#the denial is either so strong

[ickmick]

so im relistening to tma

(i said id wait longer but... i missed having it in the background :< plus im working on digitalizing that silly jonmartin drawing so it fits to listen to tma teehee)

DENIAL (The Nile) IS A RIVER IN EGYPT!! SPIDERS DON'T DO THAT!! /ref

[controld3vil]

the one

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x targ!reader

synopsis: thrown into madness, not one person can comfort the king of his thoughts. his sister wife left to deal with her grief. his mother for chooses not to heed his needs. his brother, gone in silver of the night. yet you, left forgotten stand in front of him, teary eyed.

notes: i gasped loud this episode!!

content warning: spoilers obvi for s2ep2, themes of grief and inferiority, targcest; if you are uncomfortable, please do not interact.

The death of Jaehearys exhausted you.

Nothing prepared you for the shock and emotional consequences. It felt as though a giant sea storm had swept away your emotions and feelings of sense. Because in a way, you felt numb and unable to comprehend what you were feeling. It was either too strong or your denial in it that made you feel out of it. In the confidence of your home, the grand kingdom of your father and his grandsire before, suddenly you feel apprehensive about where you resided and the castle itself. Who to trust and not as a moment noticed in your head as your mind spirals down a rabbit hole. 

Your nephew, a kin of your own, was dead. 

He was murdered in cold blood. In the sanctum of your home, in the privacy of the royal rooms. It was your fault you were not by Helaena’s side. Oh, your poor sister, the turmoil she must’ve endured in the small moments last with her son. A small piece of purity and semblance he brought into your little life and a beacon of what you strived for every day. Yet now, it has all turned to blood and dust. Used and tossed away like the sacs of bodies they would throw off dead soldiers in the aftermath of a tiring battle. 

There you sat with a half cup of wine, undrank. You dared not step out of the chambers of your comfort. Not for long, your presence would be reminded of the council. You insist on every meeting that your presence would bestow better acquisition. In most eyes, the men divert their gaze from you.

In contrast, your wretched mother opens her mouth agape with hardly any words being supported. Your grandsire contrasts, always with an excuse that you should be needed elsewhere other than the higher discussion. How benign of you, dear granddaughter. But you are unfit for a position at court.

Otto Hightower would never speak those words directly. But you know in your heart and his intuition, the words are nearly there. You don’t need an interpreter to translate what is said by the councilmen. Even if they are unaware, you understand all that is said. A tragic incident, Your Grace. The Kingsguard are doing their best to inspect all the members in the castle as we speak.

“I will have it! They will pay for this!”

The dried tears that swept down your cheeks felt sticky and annoyingly guilt-ridden of the events that had happened. You would not allow them to witness them. They were not worthy of your sadness. In grace, you hiked your dress over your feet to climb up to the doors. From where you were, you could discern the murmurs of Aegon and his hysterical yelling, absolutely mad with anger and rage. Respectfully so, the loss of his child was an unexpected and stressful one. 

When the chambers open, the rest of the councilmen stop for a moment. Before you begrudgingly make your way to the center. “Gentlemen,” You are at fault in giving away your tearful expression, the candlelight's of the chandeliers do your angelic features justice. And no noble would dare to speak upon its beauty and sorrow. All while, your lady in waiting, trails timidly behind you, head pointed down in respect. “Your Grace,” You address, and finally for a blind second, a glint of relief flashes on Aegon’s face. Finally, he must think, someone he trusts abides in the room.

“Princess,” The Hand levels his chin, leaving a steady foot of your unforeseen appearance. Beside him, your mother lays agape in both deary and fortification. 

The Queen stumbles on the syllables of your name, quietly. As if she was citing a wrongful plea of desperation. “Is- Is Helaena?” Of course, the last she saw you was in her bed chambers, coming in to console your sweet sister and her child. Alicent was running amuck, pulling on the fabric of her dress to prevent you from witnessing her privacies before. Luckily you didn't have to witness that. 

“She is with Ser Arryk and Jaeheara.” You breathed out, soft and mellow. You can tell by the exhale of your mother and grandsire's shoulders that deflating meant that their worries were at least accomplished. And a slight corner of your eye, your brother too relaxes in caution, aware of his wife and daughter’s whereabouts. 

“Good good,” Alicent frantically nods as if trying to reassure herself that her child and granddaughter were safe. Ser Arryk was a noble knight, one who betrayed his twin to stay beside the king’s side. That alone was enough to prove his loyalty and servitude. “Thank you, my daughter.” You swallow with a gaping hole in your throat. The whole room felt the compacting of the many eyes directed at you and the Queen Mother. 

“And what might be the reason for your intrusion on this council meeting, princess?” Otto’s voice somewhat triggers a fight or flight response in you. You’ve dealt with similar situations before, wanting to be included in the war business. However this was different, the council was discussing matters of potential betrayal and the killing of your kin. You suddenly felt targeted for the offense of interrupting something crucial and overriding. 

However, you know you should have a say in this matter. “Shouldn’t I be present when the death of my nephew has been informed to me merely hours ago?” There was a snap in your voice that many of them knew. Though some such as your mother and brother were accustomed to that sound more often. 

“Perhaps it is best if the princess were with the Queen to rest away comfort and grief,” Maester Orwyle suggests only to infuse your temper. 

In a quick turn, your lilac orbs strike an alarming resemblance to vexation and hostility. “Why?” Your tone was sharp and accusing just as it was. The Queen Regent could only watch and stare mutely at your grueling pettiness. Lord Tyland and Ser Criston Cole dare not to look at you but at the maester. While Aegon, all the more slightly frustrated at Maester Orwyle’s comments, stops and waits for your dreadful retaliation like a venomous viper. Otto couldn’t look more disappointed in you. 

“The death of your nephew is a tearful one, princess. And maybe you should stay within the quarters with the Queen for safety.” The maester does not falter in his reasoning, knowing how quick and ill-tempered you are similar to your brother was to retaliation. But his expression flickers in doubt shortly after you are seen to lay your palms on the edge of the end of the table. It’s hard wooden material, clenched tightly around your hands as you glance up at the councilman with fury in your eyes. 

“I am more capable than you think of me, Maester Orwyle. And I would be damned to sit in silence and pity for this horrendous murder!” You snarl, a frown forming at the edges of your lips. You were livid beyond this. Only when you want to be present in the decisions regarding your kin, did the council decline your way. It’s insulting. “My nephew should be avenged! To whoever ordered the murder!” 

“I wholeheartedly agree,” The Hand’s inclusion is an attempt to bring a truce between the others who felt your presence as much of a disturbance. “But we should not be hasty and leave every opportunity out in the open.” 

“This is my son we are talking about,” Aegon’s hand came down with a thump on the table. He’s since calmed down but you know there is still rage in his heart. The fuel of it burning and churning for the desire to find and kill whoever brought out the murder. “We must search the grounds for traitors, find anyone who leaves the Red Keep, and capture them immediately!”

“Of course, Your Grace but we should consider what this would be for Rhaenyra,” Alicent reminds the room when she scans everyone’s thoughts and faces. On the other hand, you stand uncomfortably, with the sense of your legs growing numb. 

“That bitch queen of bastards will pay!” The King screams, pointing with an accusative finger. “She is on her throne, laughing at me for this! For the death of my son, I want her dead!” It’s like a fire has been lit in your brother’s mind. It flashes and flickers rapidly as he manages to strike and spit out outrage of his growing vengeance on the Black Queen. However quick his temper simmers and rises.

The coming morning of Jaehaerys funeral drags his body to the Sept to be burnt in Targaryen tradition. More importantly, it is to sway the people’s opinion of Aegon’s claim and blame Rhaenyra for the tragic death. Spurs of propaganda flourish in the crowds as the chariot drags the casket of the fresh body, followed by the Queen and her Regent. What felt like discomfort and suffocation for Helaena only her no semblance through the entire morning. She is grieving and mourning in her own way. No one can understand the loss of a mother of her children. It is the tragedy she has felt for the first time and it stings her to her stomach. For most of the ride, Helaena could not breathe or look at the folk people, afraid of what they might do. She’d never left the Keep like this before, presented all fragile and glorious as the new Queen officially. 

Even so, she knows you are more suited for the role. Helaena has thought of it many times where you should’ve been wife to Aegon instead of her. She knows why her mother and grandsire chose her. It was because she was compliant and willing to do her duty as a lady wife. While you had no sense of duty. More or less, so did Aegon but at least she would elevate his image as King with her kind personality. 

“Helaena,” You spoke, interrupting her thoughts amid her sewing. Your sister pauses and then looks at the piece she has been working on. It was a picture of purple lily flowers, something you had mentioned wanting to see from the grounds of the Highgarden. She thinks of you and subconsciously starts to sew a new patch of thread. She’s sweet to you like that, and you forever cherished that side of her. And it's a shame her softened voice always now came with a stutter and droop of a sob. 

Helaena wakes up from her daze and greets you with a warm yet sombreros smile. “You are well?” The question itself leaves bitterness off of your tongue because you should be asking her that. You know Helaena isn’t one to openly express her emotions and thoughts proudly. As her sister, you honor that but also can become the maternal figure she needs within seconds. 

“I should be asking you the same,” You smile, looking smug and all. And your sister’s droopy eyes slowly lighten with glee. Her small frown turns upside down and suddenly you feel your heart fill with warmth and joy. “What has the Queen been sewing all this time?” 

“Purple lilies,” She gently shows you her work and focuses on your excitement. What she appreciates is your fascination with her skill with a thread and needle. You had no talent in it, much to your mother’s display. But you would gladly watch your sister sew for hours for the fun of it. “I remember you mentioning them a while ago. And I thought it would be pretty to make for you,” 

“How thoughtful of you,” You plead with your gentle eyes, resting a hand on her thigh. You looked like you were going to burst into tears out of happiness for her nonsensical act. You act differently around her and the children, sometimes Helaena thinks you have two personalities. One with her family minus Aegon and another with everyone else. You were mushy and caring, nothing like yourself hours earlier in the morrow in the councilroom. She had heard you burst into a meeting, enraged by them claiming you as a disturbance to their discussion. Like the stubborn person you were, she knew you would rather stay and argue with them for hours. And that you, for her boy. 

The Queen hums, delighted by your soothing presence in her slightly dimmed room. The room had been cleared of children's beds and toys. Now it lies barren with little to no furniture. The curtains did not change, they were arranged simply to allow some light into the chambers to let the children wake. But now, there would be none and it is left abandoned. 

“How is Jaeheara?” The whisper of your voice is the only thing she’s heard after minutes of silence. Helaena does not reply immediately, knowing her thoughts are too invasive and terrifying to think about. The black gown she still has on feels tight and makes her uncomfortable. She doesn't want to remember the funeral. It was too much for her to reminisce about despite being hours earlier. 

She makes another loop with bright purple stringing onto her needle. “She is well and is accompanied by a Kingsguard during her lessons,” She makes sure to include the Kingsguard, knowing you have been adamant about the protection and security around King’s Landing. As of late, it felt as though the castle did not feel like home anymore. It became somewhat of a hollow skeleton of a dungeon. With many escape routes and corridors, people would walk in and out without notice. It terrifies her and knowing you, you would rather be killed than have another child murdered. 

Her response pleases you however Helaena is aware of something else on your mind. She can feel it without looking at your face to know. It’s your inseparable bond as a sister that you sometimes were astounded by. Helaena calls it a bond and maybe she is right. Your eyes are focussed on somewhere else and it gives her a moment to look at you. Your brows furrowed with a subtle curve of a scowl makes her believe you were having negative thoughts. Were you feeling guilty about Jaehearys death?

“What’s wrong sister?” Despite her knowing the reason, Helaena wants you to admit your remorseful thoughts. The veil that covered her face was no longer present and she could face you without barriers. Her lilac eyes look at you, softening at you. 

“I can’t help but think I am guilty of Jaehearys death,” You sound vulnerable, no other person would witness this side of you. Because you shielded this side of you. Your display of weakness was only meant for people like Helaena, close to you, unjudging and caring in your coping. Yet sometimes you think of your sinful thoughts of guilt to be an act of punishment. You sometimes felt you were meant to feel this way for not being present with the Queen and her children when it happened. Why couldn’t you be a good sister and protect the ones you loved?

“You should not be,” Her small palm cradles the side of your jaw, making your stare connect with her. Helaena is quiet and gentle in her expression of words. What she says always has an impact. She is a woman of few words and it makes her speech inspirational. “I- For anything, it was my part as a mother, for letting my child be murdered in cold blood-”

“No of course not!” You were quick to retaliate to her pleas. She could not be responsible for such a horrific act taken against the crown. “Helaena, you did your best to protect your children.”

“Yet I was asked to choose,” The bottom of her lips quivered, and eventually hot tears filled her waterline. “And I had no other choice!”

“You were held at knifepoint,” You grasped the hand that held your jaw. Gently and slowly to make sure and emphasize her attention to you. “I would’ve bursted into the room and offered myself if I could’ve. But you did the best you did as a mother to protect your children.” You gave her another tight squeeze. 

“I had no other choice,” Her sobs slowly brewing. And the tears flowed and there was nothing you wanted to do other than comfort your dear sister. She was grieving like any mother. You would be present for her and give Helaena all of the world, to give away her sorrow. However, it is inevitable and you best offer her your condolences and feelings of heartbreak. Because you did love her children, Jaehearys and Jaeheara. The light and beacon of Helaena and Aegon's marriage. 

Helaena’s figure dwindled as she scrunched herself forward into a curling ball. The weight of her thoughts was too much. As a parent, she believed she failed the role she was meant to play. Her cries did not stop or steady in a rapid heartbeat. Any further, Helaena believes she would’ve acted impulsively if not for you, holding onto her shoulders. You were gentle against her tragic and frail body when you allowed her head and shoulders to rest against your chest. You’re silent in the comfort you gave. Because no words could pursue more than your actions. Being the more responsible and maternal figure, you became a weeping shoulder for Helaena to spout the rest of her worries and anguish. 

You wonder what Aegon and his sorrows are. 

Criston Cole was in a predicament. He failed as a Kingsguard to protect the royal family. And because of his absence, a dead prince was left at the doorstep of the king. He’s ashamed in silence because he could not make any reason for where he was during the intrusion of the castle. His affair with Alicent was more than a passionate one. It consoled him and eased for the upcoming days of Aegon’s coronation and Rhaenyra’s horrific deeds. The knight was stuck in a situation he wished would not bring to the public eye. No one can know of his relations with the Queen Regent. Not when times were suspenseful and dire as to who to trust in the castle. 

And so, after he challenges Ser Arryk to do the impossible and slay the Black Queen within her quarters of Dragonstone, he desires to focus on his plans with the king. The afternoon following the prince’s funeral, Ser Criston smoothes out the ends of his locks, recomposing his hysterical manner against the twin knight. Of, the accusations of treason against the king and the knight’s code. He should be honoring the Kingsguard words at the back of his sleeves by now. For all that has occurred to him, Criston wants to prove to the king he is capable of being essential. 

The summer breeze is faint and noticeable to those in the Red Keep. It’s open corridors and windows, it is the perfect spot for sunlight. The Kingsguard makes his way to Aegon’s chambers, where he plans to inform his schemes of sending Ser Arryk away to Dragonstone. In hopes, it would please His Majesty of the constant restless nights he has experienced. 

But he nearly misses you. It takes a second for Ser Criston to take a step back and look back at what you have been doing. You, the princess, looking out of place in the training area of the stables. Where knights and stable boys fight and practice their combat. It was a place you’re likely forbidden to be, however, it has never stopped you. The knight knows of your ambitions to fight like your brothers. You’re eager, more confident than your siblings to practice. He had suggested once to the Queen that she should allow you use of the sword. For self-defense and hobbies. 

You practically begged Alicent to hold a sword in your hands. Your cute chubby cheeks as a small child were something he remembered sometimes. You were so eager then. He could still see it occasionally when you ventured to the training area, staring at the knights practicing their moves and defenses. 

“Are you alright, princess?” Ser Criston appears behind you and you’re suddenly aware he must’ve been standing behind you for some time. He knows you come here to think and be reminded of the past. “The morrow has been rather bleak has it not?”

“Rather too bleak,” You groan, crossing your arms and rubbing your forehead in weariness. You’re aware the Kingsguard is not allowed to probe your troubles further but you rather indulge. “The day grows weary for the wavering support of the other Houses.” A quiet nod of endearment is seen from the knight as he reminisces about why they had exhibited the funeral exactly. To spread rumors and weaken the queen bastards' claim.

“It will help us in the long run, princess,” He steps forward as you turn to stare at his gentle Dornish features. Maybe in another lifetime, you would’ve fallen for him if he wasn’t a knight.

“Is that what the Queen Regent said?” A switch and it was like your tone turned to bitterness the moment you mentioned your mother. Ser Criston feels his heartache at your sentiments to the Queen. She was your mother and loved you very much. Something you can’t seem to appreciate whenever you open your mouth in front of the council. While she has complained and spouted worries of your deterring interactions, you’ve taken glory in the distance between you and your mother. Ser Criston hopes one day you will reprimand that relationship. 

“No,” 

“Tell me, why do you value her opinion so much?” He eyes at you shaking your head with a heavy scowl of disgust. Your hatred towards your mother ran cold and poisonous, under the depths of your hard-spoken shell of a heart. Maybe some part of you did care about the Queen. If there was, Criston had never been able to witness it, you’re too stubborn. And you know Alicent cherishes him deeply. 

“She has a kind heart,” The Dornish man cannot more than understand why you probe his opinion of your mother. Were you suspicious? He’s served your mother for nearly a decade and gained her trust as her right-hand protector. Yet where was he when an intruder entered the castle grounds and left Helaena traumatized and crying? 

You snarl a mocking laugh, “A kind heart?” You’re staring at the Queen’s protector with discontent and failure. “She plots and schemes to gain the people's trust over my brother’s claim. What more is she than the Hand’s right-hand puppet.” This is an alarming accusation because Ser Criston knows Alicent does not trust her father with her boys and daughters. You were an example of that. Whoever she plots with, he knows she takes into consideration who is affected the most. She was the Queen of course. Dainty and considerate of her subjects. 

“Another advantage we have over Rhaenyra, princess,” He reminds you of the whole reason why the council decided such a thing. It’s grueling yet would sway the people in their favor towards the crown than that false liar of a ruler across the land. “Understand that everything she and the council decide is to gain more allies,” 

“By simply lying to the public and creating more web of lies for us to be stuck in,” You probe and your lilac orbs glow in a dark tone. You could not stand the ploy they had used for Jaehaerys funeral. You think it was anything but honorable, to use your nephew as a cause and leeway to denounce your half-sister. Ser Criston gives you a look, only a parent would hold when their child does something to disappoint them. And even though he was not your father, he still felt utterly responsible and devoted to you as one. He has seen you grow from a child to a woman. He’s aware of your struggle in your place at court. He was there when you desperately wanted to hold a bow and arrow, practically crying to your mother on your knees. He was also there to comfort you when you accidentally drove your dragon into a terrible accident. Criston Cole felt some kind of platonic love over you, despite you never feeling the same way. ‘

Yet he couldn’t help but agree with you. “You’re right, princess. But it is the only way to convince the townsfolk of our cause. We need their support to win this coming war.” He sees your shoulders slumped, most likely growing tired of talking back and forth of their intention to false news. You hated how everyone agreed to it wholeheartedly. 

“We need more than the support of the townsfolk to win a war,” Your lips turn to a thin line, contemplating all the reasons why you had to be on the wrong side of justice. “We have dragons, that is how we win a war.” 

Nightfall was as unanticipated as it was wanted. The funeral and rumors from the council made it unbearable to walk past servants and nobles without being reminded of it. There were many times you wished to stop in front of the people and shout in their faces. There would be no denying it all. However, you were done with it. You were tired of receiving the same piece of news and rumors. It made you hereditarily furious and petty like a child. But no violence has been spilled. Instead, you could only clench your palms, aggressively and move on with a faint scowl. A puff or two would break your cover. 

Moreover, the servant girls and maids knew what made you tick. The type of gossip you hate to talk and listen about. Since you’ve lived in the castle for the entirety of your life span. So regardless of whether they spoke of today’s events or not, people knew you were not in a great mood. More or less you were agitated, imitating, and not to be consoled.

You made it your routine to visit Helaena before going to bed. When you were younger, you and your sister often paid visits to your mother and sometimes your father if present. Queen Alicent would soothe your worries and nightmares while Viserys sat in silence, unable to speak due to the pain. Yet now, that was before you and Helaena slept in the same room. She was Queen now and had a separate room with her children. It was you who made it customary to ease her worries at night and say goodnight to her children. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, her beautiful children. Even now, after everything had happened, you wanted to honor your promise to visit the new Queen. 

The granite tiles were cold. You could feel it despite wearing soft padded shoes. Your garments were loose and free from the restraints and pains you’d worn for the day. But somehow it made you feel anxious and oddly vulnerable out in the open. Of course, it was natural to feel this way after what happened. But everything, even the times you felt the most safe was now invaded by thoughts of fear and concern. You swallowed whatever security you had and moved along the balcony inside King’s Landing. The royal rooms were all the same, but you knew which belonged to whose. You knew which rooms were your mother’s, your sister’s, which had the best hiding spots, and which had the quickest way out of the city. 

Although whose room brought you the most curiosity was the one in front of you. In the distance, where you stood, a figure of green exits out of the room and disappears into the darkness. Your mother. Alicent did not seem to be in a rush to have exited Aegon’s chambers nor did she look content coming out of it. It looked as though she had mistaken his room for another. 

Hastily your paused movements began to quicken. As you tip-toed towards the doors of your king, you twist the knob and a soft creak makes you curse out of anonymity. The bed chamber was dimly lit and the fireplace illuminated a gorgeous orange dew that covered half the room in warmth. The drapes of the windows were slightly closed, making the silhouette of Aegon, hunched over more evident. He leans in a cushioned chair by the fire and you can see his unsecured locks, shape the sides of his face. 

You quickly realize your brother’s sobbing, saddening and heartbreaking. For all the things he was, Aegon did not deserve to lose a child. You understood very much as him that Alicent had planned his coronation for a long time. Yet now that it has happened, tragedies come down like dominoes in a panic. Lucerys has died on dragonback. And now Jaehearys was murdered in cold blood. Both are innocents from the result of this pretentious battle for power between Rhaenyra. It is when you shut the door behind you with a faint click, you make yourself known to the king. 

“Aegon,” It’s a whisper with no silence. Covering his face to shield his tears, Aegon does not dare to look at you. He looks ashamed and can only stare down, lost and in failure.  You understand his dismissal of your presence. No one should see their king as weak like this. Not even his closest kin and mother. Only that his mother has witnessed this scene a multitude of times over the years of watching over her son. Still, you were not the type to witness Aegon at such a low point like this. 

Nothing. You wanted nothing from him, seconds ago only curious about his profound discussion with your mother, who did not seem to speak to him at all. Something about that makes your heart churn at the Queen Regent. You walk slowly and only when you finally face him, his gaze is still on the floor, unable to lift his head to say anything. Go away! You’re making a fool out of yourself. 

Instead, you closed the gap that separated the two of you. You clasped his neck and held it firmly in a consoling manner. His weeping only grew louder the moment he felt your touch, so comforting and soft. His hands eventually wrap themselves around your waist and he rests the side of his head against your stomach.

Only you can soothe him like this. It’s discovered to be the most effective way for Aegon to calm down, your touch perhaps was the solution to it. It was never touched upon, this consolation you had with him, there were rare occasions when the prince had become too drunk to return to his quarters to have gone to yours instead. There were times when your brother wanted to hide and be away from your conniving mother and her insults. Sometimes he’d cry, drink, or rant about her inconsolable expectations of him. Because truly you are the closest to understanding that feeling. The feeling of being unwanted and as though you were not doing enough of your duty to care. Of course, you cared, you did everything for your family. Still, it could never be enough to put a smile on your mother’s face. And more evidently that of your grandsire. 

“I’m sorry,” You let out a dreary breath, rubbing Aegon’s hair. He sniffles, allowing his forehead against your stomach. He closes his eyes and lets out a sad laugh that turns into a cry. He’s lost so much in a matter of days. No one to comfort him, and his wife silently grieving in her own time. His mother forever abandoned her efforts. And his brother disappears with no explanation. Now here you were, the one he found relying on.

“I tried so hard,” He cries out, snot and tears making his speech muffled and disproportionate. “Yet everything has backhanded and slapped me in my face!” You feel a quiver on your lips when he speaks those words. Your heart burns and aches and maybe finally, you can put away your pride and be gentle. You reach behind where his hands are secured by your waist. Sliding them down to allow you to kneel to his level. With his red-shot eyes and puffy cheeks, Aegon looks like he wants to give up everything now and then. He’s never looked so weak and tiresome. 

“I know,” You shaped his face with your palms, sliding your thumbs over his cheeks. They are dried of momentary tears when he looks so desperate to cling onto anything to save him. “And as king, it is a heavy toll. Jaehearys will know you did everything you could to avenge his death.”

“It has gone to madness,” His lilac orbs staring at you with such intensity and possibly love. Torn and twisted, you know this is a wife’s duty to be her husband. Though under Helaena and Aegon’s relationship, they have never loved each other. They were husband and wife, yes but only under law. Helaena held no love but did genuinely care for his well-being. And you had shown more devotion towards his feelings than anyone had done within days. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You can start by figuring who and who not to trust at court,” You exhale, heart beating like a bass drum when you feel his hands circle yours. “Know who your trusted allies are and destroy Rhaenyra’s support.” 

“Then I need you,” He leans forward, his silver locks tangled in between yours. His gaze was wild and desperate for any kind of refusal you might have. “I need you at court. By my side, you are as essential as any of us there.” It felt as though nothing in the world mattered next only the two of you at this moment. At this important moment, you felt a surge of adrenaline and an urge to comply with his heeds. Your eyes momentarily trail to his lips before discerning back to his eyes. 

“Because I have a dragon,”

“Because you are my blood, you are a strategist and the smartest woman I know in the Seven Kingdoms,” His dried tears make him even more angelic. Perhaps in another lifetime, you two would’ve married instead and dealt with it more easily. Your mother knew it. Your gransdire did too. Despite it all, they all disapproved of you for your lack of devotion to duty. What more can you offer than your service directly to the crown? To the council? It makes you grin in pride for his acknowledgment of you. 

“Of course, my king,” And with those words, he closes the gap between your lips. Sorrowful no way but profound in a new kind of serge to overcome the tragic delay. You were right in front of his eyes all along. You, the second-born princess of Alicent and Viserys' marriage. Quip with a sharp tongue and tactics for how long you’ve studied the art of it. You were no ordinary princess. You were a fighter, a warrior who well enough wanted bloodshed as much as him.

[lauraneedstochill]

if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

[byeoltoyuki]

Yeah, I hate you too

↳ Pairing: Jisung x reader

❧ Genre: porn with little plot, enemies to lovers, enemies with benefits, fluff, fake texts

❧ Words: +3k

❧ Warnings: fingering, sexting (kind of), anal, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, spanking, masturbation, mention of toys

❧Summary : They think you're dating. Wrong. How could you date someone you hate so badly? Right?

❧ A/N: I wrote this on a whim and definitely didn't have time to proofread it, so I'm sorry if there's some mistakes. Hope you enjoy it either way!

***

“Where’s Jisung?” Changbin asked as his eyes darted back and forth between you and the empty spot beside him. Empty spot because it took Jisung only five minutes to find something better to do than be with his friends.

You shrugged, indifferent. “How would I know?”

“Aren’t you his girlfriend?”

Now that was confusing. “I’m not.” You scoffed at the idea.

You barely tolerated each other. The only reason you had been cordial, at best, with him was because he was Felix’s friend. The said man shook his head which only fuelled your annoyance. “What?” You took a sip of your drink to try to drown your annoyance and uneasy feeling.

Felix shook his head but the smug smile remained. The little shit. “Nothing.”

“You have this look!” You pointed at his face as if he had personally offended you. Well maybe a little. Nobody should be allowed to look this pretty.

“What look?”

“Felix.”

“Y/N.”

God, you loved your friend, you really did but he knew how to annoy the hell out of you. “What.is.it?”

Felix’s eyes shone brightly. And with mischief. He leant closer, arm brushing yours. “It’s cute how you think I don’t know about you and Jisung.” And he winked. The audacity.

You gasped loudly. “I’m not dating him!”

It wasn’t your intention to say it so loud and attract Changbin’s attention back on you. He quirked a brow at you and also leant closer, obviously interested in your statement. Fuck.

Felix’s smirk only widened. “Never said anything about dating.”

Fine. You had lied. You had a situationship with Han Jisung. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he annoyed you eighty percent of the time. But he sure knew how to use his mouth. And tongue. And cock. He got you addicted and you hated him even more for that.

Before you could share a piece of your mind with Felix, your phone’s screen lit. It distracted you. So easily.

At his message, you almost dropped your phone. Count on Han Jisung to be this blunt. But then again, it probably was one of the reason you gave in so easily the first time he approached you.

His words alone brought back the same images you had been trying so hard to forget. Six days, 144 hours, 8640 minutes and still unforgettable. It was one of those nights; you were stressed with deadlines and loneliness was getting the best of you too. But then Jisung came to your place without notice, as if he owned the place, and disturbed all your plans at self-loathing. You tried of course to kick him out of your place, kicking and screaming – all he did was throw you over his shoulder and slap your ass strong enough to make you yelp in surprise. He brought you to your room and threw you on your bed. You weren’t even in the mood for sex, no matter how good it always was with him, but the look he had when he stared down at you set your body on fire.

Did he spend hours, or at least it felt like hours, nestled between your legs, feasting on you, marking you, teasing you till you were just a whimpering mess at his mercy, crying and writhing, begging for a release he wasn’t willing to give because you weren’t being nice to him. Absolutely. You hated how responsive your body was to him. Hated how he knew where to push, where to lick, where to suck, where to bite to make your toe curl, to bring tears to your eyes, to make you scream his name. He loved it, so bad, when you screamed his name.

When Jisung finally let you come, you couldn’t move, you couldn’t see and your body were spent. You didn’t think you would recover from such a powerful, mind-blowing orgasm. You told him so, knowing damn well how smug he would be, how pleased.

“What got into you?” You asked him, panting. You watched him remove his clothes, one by one, taking his sweet time. It was odd. He never took his time. Han Jisung was impatient and too eager ninety-five percent of the time. So why now?

Jisung’s smile turned wicked which set your alarms on alert. He was up to something. Something bad. And also probably incredibly delicious. But could you really do it? You tried to move your legs and winced.

Jisung crawled back on the bed, slowly, enjoying the view of your sweaty body, and all the marks he had left on your thighs. Such a beautiful woman and all for him to ravish. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” He admitted.

“And how is it my fault?” You scoffed and tried to sound unfazed. Your body disagreed. Your stomach flipped, excited.

Jisung hovered over you, his body trapping you under him, lips dangerously close yours but still not touching while his hand, his damn hand, slid slowly from your breasts to your stomach. Feather-like touches that sent shivers down your spine. But his hand didn’t stop on your stomach, it travelled to your abused, still incredibly sensitive pussy; your hips jerked in response and a small whine left your lips.

“No.” You tried to move your body to escape his touch.

But Jisung only smiled. “No? Hmm.” He teased your clit despite your protest and you grabbed his arms, digging your nails into his skin. “And it is your fault. I couldn’t erase the image of you flirting with this dude from the bar. He was awfully touchy with someone that isn’t his.” And he couldn’t resist the urge: he gave your pussy a slap. Strong enough to make you yelp in surprise, but not strong enough to hurt you.

You couldn’t believe he was being possessive. Was it the same guy you had been butting heads with for the past two years? Was it the same guy that begged you one night to let you eat you out because you looked too gorgeous in a red silky dress? “He wasn’t that touchy.” You tried to defend yourself even if he was right. He had been too touchy which had earnt him a kick in his balls later but Jisung didn’t need to know that. You wanted to see how far he was ready to go to show you who you belong to.

But Jisung saw right through you. With his free hand he grabbed your chin and forced you to look him in the eyes. “Yeah? He touched this,” And his hand reached your ass. He gave it a strong squeeze before landing a first slap. You didn’t think you could get any wetter but you fucking did. “And this ass belongs to me, Y/N. You know it right?”

You were dying to say ‘no’, you didn’t belong to him and your ass certainly didn’t. But all your fire, all your protests died on your tongue when you felt his fingers dangerously close to your other hole.

“I believe this is the only place I haven’t claimed, right?” He hummed in satisfaction.

“Jisung,” You called for him, but why? You couldn’t tell whether you were scared to try something new or if you were excited. Probably both. “I-“

His fingers slid back to your dripping pussy. He gathered your juices and spread them around your other hole. He pushed a finger inside your ass and you gasped loudly. “Oh my god.” You mewled, shutting your eyes.

You couldn’t believe it. It felt weird and new. And so fucking good.

“I knew you would love it.” He chuckled. “Always knew you would let me completely defile you, wouldn’t you?”

And he added another finger, pushing slowly, filling you, stretching you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You couldn’t possibly survive this. But you definitely wanted it. “Yes.” You admitted.

Jisung chuckled as his fingers worked their magic. “Say it. Say you want me to fuck your pretty, little ass.”

“Please,” You begged.

He pulled out his fingers, leaving you empty and open. “And?”

You took a deep breath, realizing that he wouldn’t give you what you wanted unless you said those damn words. “Please Jisung, fuck my ass. I need it. Right. Now.”

Jisung snickered and flipped you with ease on your stomach. “Was it that hard?”

“Yes, asshole.” You managed to snap back.

Jisung only laughed at your weak attempt to fight back. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. “Such a nasty mouth.” He gave your ass another strong slap. “I’ll fuck it later too.”

‘As if!’ You wanted to say. But you felt his cock pressing to your hole. You sucked in a breath, tensing.

Jisung stroked your ass, trying to sooth you. “Relax, babe.”

Even if your mind wanted to fight him, your body obeyed.

He pushed slowly, inch by inch, struggling to control himself but despite his own needs, he kept a close eye on you, watching your every breath, your every wince. He wanted this experience to be enjoyable for you too and he knew you would love it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You didn’t think you could stretch anymore. You didn’t think you could ever feel this full. But it was exactly how you felt.

With one last thrust, he pushed all the way in. He groaned and closed his eyes to savour the feel of you around his cock. So tight, so nice, so pretty.

You fisted the sheets, needing something to hold on to. Or to destroy.

He pulled out slowly only to push back in. “Fuck babe, you feel so fucking good. So good I could die. Fuck.”

Jisung took his time with you, his thrust slow and as gentle as possible. It hurt and you squeezed the sheets tightly. But it also felt divine. Quickly, you found yourself wanting more, needing more, to relieve the itch. So you pushed back and he smiled in delight.

“Someone is excited.” He commented.

You were and you didn’t care anymore. “Show me what you can do, pretty boy.” You provoked him.

Jisung halted and hovered over your back. His warm breath caressed your cheek and then your ear. “Remember that you asked for it.” And he slammed hard into you, picking up his pace.

“Shit.” You moaned loudly, unable to hold back.

Jisung showed you no mercy. Every thrusts shattered and remade you. Every thrusts brought pleasure unknown to you. You didn’t think you could feel this good. You didn’t know if it had anything to do with Jisung and you didn’t care anymore. You took everything he gave you; every push of his cock, every groan, every dig of his fingers into your skin.

Jisung’s fingers slid to your clit and you almost collapsed at the new sensation. His thrusts along with his fingers playing with your clit brought you to the edge quicker and with so much strength. You barely registered when your body tensed and completely let go. You simply split apart with a sharp cry, waves of pleasure wrecking your body.

“Such a good girl.” Jisung didn’t stop. He used your body to seek his own climax. “And I can’t fucking get enough of you. I hate you for that.” But you barely heard him, still lost to your own pleasure. “Fuck, fuck.” Jisung came with a loud groan, pulling out to paint your ass with his release.

Fuck. You clenched your thighs tightly at the unwanted memory. You squeezed your phone tightly in your grip as if it had personally offended you. Your face flushed and you cursed under your breath. You weren’t supposed to get all horny in the middle of the bar. You weren’t supposed to let Jisung affect you so badly. But boy you were.

You tried to save yourself with this message. The bar wasn’t crowded and the lights were dimmed. There was no way he could see your state or your blush. Right?

Fuck. Your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You were wet. Too fucking wet. You could ignore Jisung’s messages and suggestions, it was hella tempting since he was the one responsible for your state. Or you could leave and take care of your little problem without inviting him. That would piss him off and serve him right. You liked this plan better.

“I’m leaving.” You told Felix as you got back on your feet and readjusted your dress.

Felix eyed you with a cocked brow. “Why? You just go there.”

Something told you that whatever excuses you come out with, Felix wouldn’t believe you. Not when he was smirking like that. He knew something but you refused to delve into the matter. Nope. Not tonight. Not when your body was on fire. Not when your pussy was clenching desperately. “I’m tired.” You said and grabbed your bag.

“Tired.” Felix repeated your words with a poor imitation of your voice. “Sure thing, sweet. See you later.”

***

By the time you got to the safety of your home, your mind was plagued with images of Jisung between your legs. You couldn’t believe that your brain would think of him when you could have pictured anyone, anything. But you didn’t fight back those thoughts. You didn’t have time nor the will. Your body was too needy.

You took your heels and threw them somewhere on the ground. You hurried to get rid of your dress and your, now, completely ruined panties. I’ll make him pay another time. You threw yourself on your bed and readjusted your pillows to get as comfortable as possible.

A deep sigh of relief escaped your parted lips. Finally. You closed your eyes, Jisung’s face immediately invaded your thoughts and you let him. You let the image of him guide your hand to your breast and to your hard nipples that were begging for attention. You squeezed and pinched and let out small moans. You relaxed instantly, revelling in the different sensations.

You let your hand slid slowly from your breast to your stomach, drawing invisible circles on your skin before reaching between your legs, the place that most needed your attention. You took it slow; gentle rubs, circling your clit, letting the pleasure spread all over your body. Your fingers slipped inside your soaked pussy and you arched your back, imaging that it wasn’t your fingers but the most annoying person’s ones.

“Fuck.” You mewled.

“Now that’s a sight I’m not ready to ever forget.” Jisung’s annoying (sweet) voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your eyes snapped open and you almost jolted out of your bed. “What the fuck?!”

No. He couldn’t possibly be there. How could he?  Were you that tired that somehow you started hallucinating? But no, as you looked at him standing by your door, licking his lips, his eyes darker than ever, you realized that he was not a piece of your imagination. “What, how?”

Jisung twirled the keys to your place and smirked. “Spare keys.”

You frowned, your dizzy mind having a hard time to catch up with his words. “I didn’t give you the spare keys to my place.”

Jisung nodded. “No. you didn’t.” He put them back in his pocket, proud of the effect he had on you. His eyes quickly slid to your spread legs and you realized too late that he had a perfect view of the mess you were. “Felix gave me the keys.”

The little shit! You knew he was up to something. You would make sure to make him pay later for not minding his damn business.

“Don’t be so angry, babe.” Jisung cooed, reading your emotions so easily. “Instead, show me how you play with yourself, hm?”

The ache between your legs returned so quick it almost knocked you out. This man and his voice had such a strong hold on you. You couldn’t help but obey and forget all about your annoyance.

“Tell me, what were you imagining while having your fingers inside this sweet pussy, hm?” Jisung asked as he watched your fingers disappear inside you. He licked his lips, drooling at the beautiful sight. He wanted nothing more than replace your fingers with his and with his tongue but for once, he fought his own needs. He grabbed the chair in the corner of your room at put it right before your bed so he could have the best view.

“You.”

“Me?” He feigned surprise. “And what exactly was I doing in your imagination?”

“You were sucking on my clit with those pretty lips of yours while your fingers were stretching me nicely.”

“Shit.” Jisung groaned to himself. He could imagine it so easily. He unzipped his jeans and took out his hard cock dripping already with pre-cum. Jisung fell into rhythm with you, matching your energy as he worked his hand around his cock. “Add another finger.”

And you obeyed. “Look at me.” He ordered. And you did once again. You moaned at the sight. You didn’t think watching Jisung touch himself would fuel your own desire, your own pleasure but it did. You almost came right on the spot.

But the itch was still there. No matter how hard you played with yourself you were still unsatisfied. You couldn’t reach as deep as he could. “Jisung. Please. I need you.”

Jisung chuckled. “Do you now? I think you’re doing pretty well on your own.” But truth was, he needed you too. So fucking badly. He needed, desperately, to sink his cock inside your pussy. He needed to feel your walls around his cock, squeezing him, begging for more.

“Am not. I need you. Please.” You begged shamelessly. You took out your fingers and spread your pussy for him to see. “Look. I need you.”

Jisung gulped, his willpower slowly crumbling. How could he resist now? “Me? Or my cock?”

“Both. Please?”

Jisung ruffled his hair in frustration. “Fuck.” He left his spot, hurried to take all of his clothes and almost jumped on your bed. He grabbed your legs with so much strength, you yelped in surprise. He spread you wider for him. He let his fingers slid from your clit to your entrance, testing how wet you were. “Babe, you’re dripping. All for me?”

“All for you.”

“So pretty.” He took his cock and nudged it playfully against your pussy, making you mewl and push your hips in need. “And mine.” He plunged inside you with one powerful thrust that made the two of you groan.

You closed your eyes, feeling all of him. Hard and deep inside you. And so damn perfect. A part of you didn’t want it to feel so good but the one that didn’t care, savoured the stretch, the fullness.

“Y/N, I think I’m in love.” Jisung confessed as he pulled out slowly, letting you feel every inch of him, torturing you with how slow and gentle he was. You didn’t want slow. You didn’t want gentle. Not when you were so consumed with need and lust. You wanted him to wreck you.

“With me or my pussy?” You managed to joke and chocked when he slammed back. “Fuck.” You arched your back. He sure knew how to make you shut your mouth.

Jisung didn’t answer your question and you forgot all about it as he started thrusting. Just like you hoped and prayed. Hard. Deep. Making you hold your sheets tightly as you met his thrusts with your own.

“Harder.” You begged unable to think about anything else but him and his cock deep inside you.

“As you wish.” His grip on you tightened, fingers digging into your skin that would leave marks – you didn’t care. You let him use you as he saw fit. You let him pound into you.

The sound of his grunts, of your moans and slap of skin was slowly driving you mad. The rhythm he set got you writhing and begging for release in no time. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him against you, feeling his body crashing you under him, as you claimed his mouth in a desperate and needy kiss. You felt him smile against your mouth, damn proud of your state.

“I hate you.” You bit on his lips and he fought back with a powerful thrust. “So fucking,” And another. “Much.” And another.

Jisung kissed you back with as much needs. He was just as desperate for release as you were and so damn close. He tried to distract himself, to keep his control. He needed you to come. Right fucking now. One hand slipped between your bodies and he played with your clit as he kept pounding into you. Pinching it. Rubbing it. He left you no choice. He pushed you over the edge.

“Fuck!” Your back arched as your orgasm slammed into you. Your whole body shuddering as Jisung didn’t stop. He fucked you through your release, not slowing down even for a second. And you held onto him, strong and tight, and watched as he lost himself to his own pleasure. You watched him close his eyes as he slammed one last time and released himself.

Jisung slowly pulled out of you and took a second to admire his work. Your fucked up face. Your sweaty body. Your abused, dripping pussy. “Bloody hell. So damn beautiful.” He couldn’t stop himself from pushing back his fingers into your sensitive pussy to push back his cum inside you.

“Don’t. I can’t.” You begged and wriggled, trying to escape his dangerous fingers. You were completely and utterly spent. You couldn’t take more. But telling this to Jisung wasn’t your brightest idea. It only fuelled him more.

“But you look so pretty and yummy. How can a man resist?” And he brought his fingers to his mouth. Covered with both his and yours release. You gawked at him at you swore your pussy clenched again with need at the sight. He cleaned his fingers, humming in satisfaction.

“By the way,” He rolled to the side and pulled your body flushed against him. “I think I’m in love with both.” He admitted and kissed your head. “You and your pussy.”

You couldn’t believe him. He sure knew how to woo a woman. “Such a romantic.”

Jisung smiled sheepishly at you. “Isn’t it why you like me?”

“Tolerate you at best.” But you hid your face into his chest, refusing to show him your pink cheeks or the smile that spread on your face.

“Liar.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did. But we can do it again.” Jisung was in a mood. “So I can show you just how much I love you. And how much you love me too.”

Yeah. You liked the sound of it.

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D10- spanking & punishing

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content: DADDY KINK JK!, sub oc (doll, sugar), whiny oc, soft degredation (brat) , eventually a bit of fluff and praise (bc i'm a softie), spanking duh, edging, begging, nipple play, kisses and kissing denial, penetration missionary, cowgirl, creampie

note from cherry: this is so kewwt i love daddy jk sm

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"pleasee why won´t you kiss me!" desperate whines have been leaving your mouth for the past 15 minutes,

Earlier, Jungkook had been working on his laptop, poking his cheek with his tongue and furrowing his brows in concentration, the way he swipes through his messy hair and looks so frustrated only worsening the throbbing between your thighs,

He´s pissed off and that´s enough to want to push his buttons even further, so you dress in your cutest underwear and sit on his lap,

at first, he didn´t respond, not giving into your clear objective to try and capture his attention,

However, when you start pleading in that bratty, needy voice about how hard he is, how you can feel him grow underneath you, jungkook lifts you up, spanking you on the way to the bed

"Because you decided to be a little brat, so you get treated like one" his raspy reply has you rubbing your thighs together for the slightest bit of pleasure,

you try once more, leaning forward to try and press your pillowed lips to his pink ones,

instead, his large palm holds your cheeks in a firm, gentle grip, he scoffs,

"bad little girls don´t get kisses, turn around, ass over my lap, understood?"

the stern tone makes you whimper, nodding obediently

"words"

"understood daddy" your wobbly legs move with a mind of their own, the only goal is to obey him now, taking your awaited punishment with excitement,

once your bare ass is spread over his muscular lap, his restless hands beging squeezing, touching and roaming everywhere,

"count them for me. three each. can you do that for me, my little brat?" it´s not as much of a question, it´s an order that you knew better than to disobey,

your back arches further, hips angling upwards as he lands a harsh slap right on your soft skin,

"one.." you stumble out, immediately being cut off by an even harsher slap,

"two!"

"three! nhm- please!" eyes shut, hips wiggling in his tight grip, you plead for him, the sting in your flesh way too good to ignore,

he´s been silently watching, admiring how your skin turns a pretty shade of red underneath his rough hands, licking over his lips to stop himself from praising you, this is your punishment after all

the wetness becomes increasingly worse, dripping down your inner thighs with the remaining three slaps, finally finished with a deeper aching embedded into your smooth skin

"okay sugar, c´mere" suddenly, the strong arm that was holding you close to his lap lifts you up, supporting your knees as you fall back next to him,

"mhh, please, kiss me now? don´t i deserve it?" the needy look in your round eyes makes him smile softly, pouting in a mocking action

"no sugar, not yet, been such a bratty lil thing, you should beg f´me" his hand finds your hips again, caressing them with need, "can you beg for daddy?"

the bed dips on his sides, your knees setting in on either side of him, sitting down on his boxer covered bulge,

"please daddy, i´m sorry please kiss me? please, please kiss me daddy" upon hearing your whiny voice, he teases you further, sneaking his hands to massage your chest, tugging on your stiff buds with his long fingers,

"yeah? you want me to kiss you doll?"

soft moans stumble out of your lips, slowly grinding your hips on him in a desperate attempt to grand yourself some friction, his continued actions driving you to a mindless state, whining for him in utter need,

"yes please, please daddy please"

smirking, he presses a tiny kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hands now supporting your little grind on his bulge, coating his black calvins in your arousal

"like that sugar? or do you want it here..?" his tongue glides over your jaw, taking your smooth hands to tug his boxers down, your hips lift automatically, welcoming the warmth of feeling his heavy cock on your femininity

"no, no please lips, kiss me on the lips pleaseee please" barely audible, he groans, finally granting you a well deserved kiss,

you kiss back sloppily, coating his tongue in your saliva, his mouth is filled with your whimpers,

he pulls back, "bratty little doll, look at you huh? leaking all over herself" by now, he´s guiding his cock in his hand, slapping it against your soaked cunt,

"mhn- all needy, jus´ for you" your hands hold on to his shoulder, hips hovering over his while he aligns himself with your entrance, nodding when it´s your time to sink down on his length

" ´course, this is my needy cunt, my little doll"

you take him, his entire cock, hitting deep inside of you,

"fuck sugar, you´re so fucking tight, tiniest lil´cunt" the sultry tone of his voice makes you dizzy, already feeling way too good to register anything, your hips start moving bouncing down onto him with all your desperation,

"please! oh god- oh fuck" you whine, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, trembling from the tension that´s flowing through your body, jungkook groans into your ear, letting you ride out your frustration

"good girl, feel so good around my cock sugar" his hand moves to the small of your back supporting your steady, restless movements

"wanna cum daddy, please gonna come" your humps become more eager, squeezing your eyes shut, all that pent up need coming to weigh you down, the exhaustion in your hips being the last thing on your mind,

in the split of a second, you´re flipped under him, his hands pushing your thighs up to deepen his thrust harder into you, "oh no doll, you´re not coming yet sweets, not until i tell you to"

your mind slips entirely, holding on to that knot in your stomach with all your need to release, a stream of high pitched whimpers flowing out from beneath your lips,

"sound so good doll, you feel so fucking good" his lips linger just over yours, ghosting over them while he thrust into you steadily, making sure to stroke that spongey spot deep in your slick folds,

you whine, rolling your eyes back,

"please daddy i can´t take it i need it please, please" the words stutter out between moans, failed attempts to hold on to him get countered with his little groans, low and into your soft hair

jungkook smiles at your desperation, presses a deep, heated kiss to your relentless lips, his cock feeling heavy with each glide through your slick walls, one of his hands comes up to play with your chest, rolling your nipple in his fingers,

"yeah? wanna come for me sugar? wanna cream round daddy´s cock like the good lil´girl you are?" he rasps, feeling you clench around him, his hand moving from your chest to grip your cheeks in his hand, making you look at him, his thrust getting messy,

"yes! yes daddy please, wanna come " you´re shaking underneath his heavy strokes, trembling from overstimulation,

"good girl, come for me doll"

he curses under his heavy panting, slowing his hips once feeling your wetness pool around him, your sweet mouth eliciting needy moans,

"gonna fill you so fucking good" he says and releases his all into you, pumping his milky cum inside your cunt, before pulling out and caressing your body, going from your arms to your stomach, to sneaking under to hold your back and draw you in even closer,

you can feel the warm liquid flow out from between your legs, coating your thighs sticky,

he rubs your back, before feeling it drool down to him,

"good girl, my pretty girl.. how are we feelin´ baby?"

you smile, blissed out and exhausted, the intense high still crashing down on you,

his hands spread your legs, humming a satisfied sound at the sight

"tireeed" he chuckles, threading his slender fingers through your hair, little kisses lingering all over the top of your head

"you took your punishment so well f´me didn´t you?"

"mhmm... wanted your attention so much" you giggle, snuggling closer to his sweaty, warm body

"that´s right, what do you want as a reward sugar?" with a small whisper, he asks, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo

"hm.. many apology kisses for not kissing me"

"that´s it? so humble aren´t ya"

his hands pry your head away from his neck, kissing your lips until they become numb.

[allforhee]

— 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐒! (ONESHOT) | LEE HEESEUNG

୨୧ pairing — secretary-general!lee heeseung x delegate!fem!reader

synopsis: decelis high's academic weapon, future valedictorian, model un prodigy especially in the crisis council, and top-notch secretary-general of the mun club, lee heeseung has it all. from earning constant "best delegate-s" left and right, no one dared to go against his stances in any debate. until a student like you transfers into decelis high. as a soon graduating senior, you were a newbie to press. but with your endless love for writing, you'd managed to steal the hearts of your peers. it was your first mun, and you didn't expect much. but when heeseung finds out about an article you've wrote about his arrogant performance in a recent committee session, he is set to strike you down.

୨୧ genre — kinda angsty but with happy ending, high school au, secgen/crisis delegate!heeseung x press delegate!reader, academic rivals to lovers, dumbasses in denial, a brief moment of rivals in public but lovers in secret, one sided rivalry

୨୧ warnings — a lot of model un terms (hope you guys can understand), cursing, hurt no comfort, heeseung highkey hates reader, reader is a bit feisty and could care less but she lowkey has parental issues, featuring all the other enhypen members, aespa's winter aka minjeong, txt's yeonjun and beomgyu, stray kids’ i.n, gidle's shuhua, and ive's wonyoung, one bed trope, forced proximity

୨୧ word count — 13.3k (not proofread, but will slowly edit/make changes to tiny minor mistakes found)

୨୧ author's note — dear readers, i'm back from a long overdue hiatus with a new layout and theme! this fic is long as HELL i didn't expect it to reach this long omg. i also changed up a couple details so it will be quite different from the teaser! i’m so sorry for the long overdue wait, senior year of high school has been so hectic, and i’ve been finally able to finish this so enjoy :) omg holy shit y’all are finally reading my full length fic i’ve been harboring since what? february?

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 had it all.

the walls of his room were littered with delegate lanyards from conferences across the globe, "best delegate" certificates framed all over his house (and a couple crumpled up inside his desk to fit the space), and a collection of trophies stood in every nook and cranny.

no one at decelis high dared to go against his stance. whenever it was, whether it was a moderated caucus or unmoderated, he'd always have his country or character's placard raised high, ready to speak, or leading whatever bloc was being formed.

there was no doubt that no one had ever beat him. it was no doubt that he was decelis high's mun club's secretary-general, and those who chose to go against him either got crushed in fear or knew when to step back.

even with his "best delegate" status, he wouldn't have gone far without his best mates, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, and park sunghoon.

park jongseong or jay, most known for his cold stares in the debate room, ready to make a delegate tremble, would always chair crisis. he was decelis high's deputy secretary-general alongside heeseung. and although being heeseung's best mate, he never favored him when it came to awarding. it's just that he was naturally talented.

sim jaeyun, known for his popular slogan around the school; "jake it till you make it!", was the strongest when it came to knowing what a country or character believed in. his research skills were like a pirate on the hunt for lost treasure, he had all the facts, the data, and the proof to back up any stance. whatever heeseung needed to know, jake already had his back.

and park sunghoon. even though he was the quiet one of the bunch, his position papers never ceased to appeal to any chair. even if he wasn't as strong in speaking out during committee sessions, his fingers were his weapon. the guys would always ask him why'd he chair press and not join in the heat with them, he'd always answer with "my words are stronger than my actions." where jay would always respond with "isn't that the other way around bud?"

the four were unstoppable when it came to model un. lee heeseung was unstoppable. he was. until you came along.

you were quiet at first. everyone just saw you as the new girl who transferred for her senior year. nobody cared. until decelis high's annual mun conference, which happened to take place a couple weeks after the first day of school.

students from all over the country gathered at decelis high once a year to join in on the fun. various councils were presented at decelis mun, from heeseung's favorite council, crisis, and multiple others like unhrc, who, unsc, disec, unicef, and your favorite, press.

without a doubt, you registered yourself for press, opting that you didn't have the guts to join any other council. you feared you'd tremble listening to another delegate question your stances and ideologies.

your parents would always encourage your writing. as a child, you loved to write little imaginary stories about your life as a princess. writing stories about the love you've seen in your parents, you were set to write a book. but when your mom passed away a few weeks before your senior year of high school, and your dad constantly traveling for work, you had resorted yourself to watching the news all summer long, spiking your interest in being a journalist, where all you had to do was report whatever was going on, spit out what had to be said, and done. you didn't need to think long and hard on what your character was supposed to do next to support the storyline, no opinions, no biases.

as you stepped into your assigned council's room, you felt a gush of wind. the nervousness had gotten to you more, seeing all the socially bright journalists with their laptops open and chatting amongst each other happily.

"hi! you're a new face! oh and you're cnn! me and you will be best buddies! bbc here!" a girl squeals, she has a bright smile and a oh-so friendly demeanor. no doubt a popular trait amongst the press council.

"minjeong! don't scare her off. we're so sorry, she sometimes comes off a bit too much to new people. i'm wonyoung, the co-chair for press." she introduces herself.

"oh, hello. i'm y/n. i just transferred to decelis this year. it's my first time at press." you smile. you lost all your socialite cheerfulness over the summer, but meeting minjeong and wonyoung felt like you've been recharged. "oh and i'm the journalist for cnn?"

the girls take a glance at your nametag, examining you, before wonyoung cuts, "first time? don't worry sweetheart, we'll tell you all about it! right hoonie?"

a tall figure walks up to the three of you, no doubt a intimidating face. "y/n right? i'm sunghoon, the chair for press." he asks.

"yes yes this is her! oh we've got to tell her all about press! first timer alert!" wonyoung beams, before entangling her hand with sunghoon's. there was no doubt that the two were a couple.

"ugh, okay you two cut it off! we're journalists, we gotta be professional!" minjeong argues, playfully slapping wonyoung's arm, causing her to let go of sunghoon's.

at first, you had no idea what you were stepping into. but when chair sunghoon welcomed you to press with his icy-blue eyes and quiet demeanor, the other journalists supporting each other when it came to writing their articles, you felt right at home.

it didn't feel like it, but two days of endless debates went on, countries arguing left and right, and articles written on the current hot topic. the tension was surely rising, and your fingers were tired.

you were glad it was all over.

at every post-conference social, before awards were handed out, the articles the journalists from press wrote would be released to the conference for the other delegates to read. besides their usual gossip box, the articles the press wrote were always the fuel to the fire.

one article stuck up to heeseung. it read; "secretary-general heeseung's love for crisis interferes chair jongseong's chairing process, now who's really chairing crisis?"

heeseung swore to himself that he's never seen a girl like you. so quiet yet so powerful in her writing. hearing rumors that you've only just recently transferred to decelis high. even sunghoon himself was surprised to meet a talented journalist like you, a first-timer at press.

"it was her first time?" heeseung protested, "i mean- she's so quiet and reserved, if she had been doing press for years, i wouldn't be surprised. but this is her first time?!"

"what do you mean she's quiet? look at hoon, he never says a word in comses, but look at him chairing press. and i would never mind you tagging along in crisis, you always give out good insights." jay interrupts his thoughts.

heeseung complains, "i understand that, but her innocent face says nothing to what she wrote about me!"

"her articles were critical. they were precise and to the point. there was never a single weak spot in her articles. i think she's gonna make a run for my position." sunghoon defends.

"it's just one article hee, it won't affect your entire track record anyways." jake compliments, giving him a pat on the back.

heeseung believed what jake said was true. he did have an outstanding track record. "best delegate"s here and there, one silly little article wouldn't ruin his entire reputation.

as the clock strikes seven, social night was slowly coming to a close. decelis high's third annual mun was coming to an end. all that was left was to hand out the awards.

heeseung made his secretary-general speech as usual, a couple thank you-s here and there, before he handed it over to the chairs to announce the awards.

as he was walking down the stage, he felt a couple stares from mostly the press council linger. fixing his tie, he shook it off before taking a seat in the front row.

awards were handed, from best position papers, verbal commendations, honorable mentions, most outstanding delegates, and of course, best delegates.

the press council was saved for last. sunghoon asked heeseung if he could be given more time to rethink his options for the awards, and as his best mate, he let him. in reality, sunghoon didn't need time to rethink his options. he and wonyoung knew who was going to win best journalist. sunghoon just wanted to save the best for last.

when heeseung hears sunghoon's announcement for best journalist, it clicks.

"and the press council's best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

cheers could be heard from across the conference room. minjeong practically jumping on you when they heard your name mentioned. you rushed to the stage with a red face and a still shocked reaction, receiving the certificate along with the medal. wonyoung gave you the biggest bear hug known to man, whilst sunghoon gave you a firm handshake.

you felt the cameras flashing at you, taking pictures from what felt like every single angle. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was glaring at you from the front row.

best journalist. best journalist? his mind was running all over the place. how could he? how could sunghoon, his best friend, let such a writer like you, who wrote a devious article about him, win best delegate?

a single glance at the other delegates of the press council only angered him more. amongst them were laughs and snickers. he swore he heard a journalist say; "looks like mister secgen is upseeet!" but decelis mun only happened once a year. he wouldn't have the need to care about you every other day.

or so he thought.

heeseung felt like you were everywhere. at every lunch break, you were always sitting across his and the boys' table, laughing at nonsense with yunjin and wonyoung. during free periods, you'd be at the library, hunched over your laptop or head deep in a book. and at mun club, you just had to be there.

he hated that you were gifted like him. he hated that his friends favored you. he hated that sunghoon would always send you to their rival school's muns to participate in their press councils. he hated that you always won. he hated that you were clouding his mind every single day.

you hadn't but uttered a single "thank you," to lee heeseung. as decelis high's secretary-general, you didn't think he'd care about you. you were just a writer. you had no strength in the debate field, no reason for lee heeseung to care. but why was he being so cold?

it started when you applied for the harvard model congress. you were ecstatic to find out you'd be attending the conference. obviously, you told minjeong and wonyoung all about it. even striking up small talk with sunghoon.

"that's amazing y/n. i mean, harvard model congress? that's big!" his tooth-rotting smile bringing a cheerful mood.

"you went from winning best journalist in schools across the state to varsity level in just a few months!" minjeong squeals, as she hugs you. you were really lucky to have such caring best friends.

laughing along in the mun club room, you could feel heeseung's glare from his desk. headphones on and focused onto his laptop screen, you felt a strange feeling resonating off of him.

heeseung was fuming. the entire club applied for harvard model congress. heeseung got in. his mates did. and of course, you also did.

it was supposed to be a three day long weekend with his mates full of debate, laughter, awards, and getting drunk on social nights. but no. you and your friends would be there too.

heeseung didn't understand why everyone was so trusting of you so easily.

even jay, was friendly with you. "well y/n, i think you're going to make a run for hee's job!"

wonyoung rolls her eyes at jay. "he should be scared. you've rose up through the ranks like jake's receeding hairline."

"hey! my hair is perfectly fine, thank you!" jake cuts, huffing at the ridiculous comment about his hair.

"yo hee! we gotta work out the letter to the school so we can get a few days off. come over here, you look like you're burning holes into your laptop!" jay chuckles, receiving a smack on the arm from jake.

a quick but surprising slam! from heeseung's laptop emitted a low echo throughout the room. followed by a ruffling of him throwing his decelis almameter over his shoulder, and another loud slam! of the mun club room's door. lee heeseung just stormed out.

"oof, what's got into him?" minjeong asks, her face contorting into an anxious look.

"i don't fucking know, he's been at it since decelis' annual mun. throwing temper tantrums left and right." jay sighs, concerned for his best friend.

"well i guess that temper is living up to my article." you suggest, letting out a huff and a subtle eyeroll.

sunghoon takes a deep breath before realization hits. "now that i think of it, he's been at it since you've joined our core team." while he points at you.

"what does that have to do with me? i didn't do shit. all i do is sit, join muns, write, and win awards for us. would he rather i'd be getting verbal commendations instead?" you sigh. you've done nothing but bring pride to decelis high's reputation.

wonyoung laughs, patting you on the back. "it's not about winning verbcom or bestdel, it's about heeseung finally finding his match."

"exactly! he's gone on and on about constantly winning at every mun. he's always complained about needing more of a challenge. and no shit he's been jealous of your achievements." minjeong pipes in.

"that's ridiculous. i don't understand crisis as much as he does, i'm just a journalist on the press council! he's basically just being an ass to me, that's all." you confessed, you and heeseung were basically on different levels. he was secgen and lover of crisis councils, whilst you were just one of the head journalists and co-editors of the press division.

"maybe he likes you? i don't know!" jake squeals, lifting his shoulders in question. jay and sunghoon gives him a slap on the shoulder each, a glaring stare between the three.

"no no, lee heeseung is a cold-hearted son of a bitch with an ego to feed every other day, there's no way he can feel shit." minjeong debates, a hint of anger in her voice.

"woah girl, what's got you mad? i get you two grew up together but that's a lot to say about heeseung." wonyoung asks her.

"i know it's a long story, but y/n deserves to know. right?" minjeong asks, waiting for you to nod to continue. "every single day of my life, i was my parents' star girl. i love my parents for supporting me. but ever since heeseung moved in next door, i was demoted from best girl in the neighborhood to second best to heeseung. ever since we were eight, heeseung didn't like to lose. to a boy he'd be a good sport. but when he lost to me in a mere storytelling competition, he'd throw a tantrum. that's heeseung to me. he's nothing but an egotistical ass who has to win everything."

you sigh, hearing minjeong’s words. "and you know what y/n?" she continues, "he's never lost it since we were 13. and you, y/n, have officially made him lose his mind. again."

this year's harvard model congress was held at seoul national university, the dream university of many korean students. the seven of you stayed at a hotel nearby, settling in.

sunghoon picks up the keycards at the check-in counter, "okay so there's three rooms in total, the girls are sharing, me and jake are in one room, which leaves heeseung and jay—"

"i'm sorry sir," the hotel staff interrupts him, "but the rooms are already divided by the hotel and cannot be changed. it says here, room 745 is for miss kim and miss yang, room 746 is for mister park, mister sim, and the other mister park— mister jongseong, and room 777 is for—"

"great. thank you. alright, let's settle in and get ready for opening night." heeseung sighs, grabbing his suitcase and your shared room's keycards before heading to the elevators. you gave the rest of the group a shaky smile before following heeseung.

the moment you two entered the lift, and as heeseung tapped the keycard and pressing the button for the seventh floor, you could feel the tension.

as the lift begins to move upwards, heeseung lets out a sigh. "look, l/n. we're sharing a room by casuality, so don't make it a big deal."

you huff shakily, "a big deal? you're the one who's been avoiding me all year! i barely disturb you and all i do is win awards for decelis. what else do you want from me?" your voice slowly getting angrier.

as heeseung opens his mouth to answer, the lift comes to a halt as its doors open, signaling that they've reached the seventh floor.

heeseung holds the lift doors open, so you can exit it with ease. you were surprised with this gesture. coming from him who could care less about your presence, you were baffled.

as you both reach at your hotel room, heeseung gave you one of the three keycards given before tapping his at the hotel room's door.

and as if your romance stories came to life, you spotted an oh-so familiar trope sitting in the middle of your hotel room. there was only one king-sized bed.

"shut the front door." you sighed, looking at the clear situation in front of you.

heeseung entered behind you, "i clearly have, what are you talking abou—"

"no dumbass, it was a metaphor. i'm talking about this." you exclaimed, pointing your finger at the bed.

"great. i'll call up room service and get this sorted—"

"no it's fine, it'll be too much of a hassle and social night is in two hours. besides, we're civil adults, and we're here for only two nights. we can bear 72 hours living through this stupid one bed trope."

"fine. just so you know i'm taking the left side."

heeseung dropped his bag near his side, as he was trying his best to keep his composure. sharing a room with you was bad enough (that's what he keeps telling himself), but a bed as well? he'd rather win verbal commendation than share a bed with you.

you were unpacking your necessities before you decided to break the ice. "heeseung just so you know—"

but before you could finish, heeseung was already out the door. before the door closed, you could hear a mere; "i'll go down for social night. you do you." and a click! of the door.

you scanned the room that was once filled with such tension, spotting your room keycard on the bedside table.

you took off your sweater and switched to something a bit classier for social night, changing to a blood red dress you had packed to match harvard's colors. minjeong and wonyoung had helped you choose it a couple days prior, the conversation reappearing in your mind.

"harvard's got nothing on you with that dress! watch out best journalist!" minjeong hypes you up as you're trying it on in the changing room.

"are you sure it's not a bit too much?" you questioned, feeling insecure in the dress.

"too much? my guess is heeseung would drop dead seeing you in that dress. after all, he is in love with you." wonyoung giggles, which earns her a slap on her arm from winter.

"just own it y/n. maybe layer it with a leather jacket if you get cold?" minjeong suggests. you look at yourself in the mirror once more. maybe this would be the turning point between you and heeseung's rivalry. maybe he'd look at you and decide that he no longer hated you and instead loved y— no. enough of those thoughts.

as you touched up your makeup from earlier this morning, you headed out to find wonyoung and minjeong waiting at the lobby.

"there you are— oh that dress looks, damn!" minjeong exclaims, covering her mouth with her hand to hide the utter shock.

"i just know heeseung's going to gape at that dre—" before wonyoung could finish her sentence, she earns a smack on her arm from minjeong. "ow minie! i don't want my arm to be black and blue at social night! which starts in... thirty minutes. we should get to campus and fill in our registrations so we're set."

opening night was a blast. harvard model congress knew how to throw a goddamn banger of a opening night.

there were so many things to see. a karaoke booth, a photobooth station, a merch station, even a snack booth filled to the brim with various snacks and drinks.

after receiving your lanyards and a couple papers where you'd find your assigned councils for the next day, you, wonyoung, and minjeong, were set to let lose one last time before you were head deep into your laptops, writing articles for the next three days.

entering the room littered with decorations and other delegates, you and the girls entered the ballroom hand in hand, in awe with the decor.

wonyoung spotted the boys immediately, already saving a table for the seven of you. the three of you walked to the table, which had name plates for all your names. wonyoung next to sunghoon, jay next to jake, minjeong on your right next to you, and heeseung on your left.

sitting at the assigned seats and listening to the opening remarks by harvard model congress' secretary-general, the food was served and you all dug in.

although this was only the first of two social nights, you and the girls had to make the best of it. from abusing the “free photobooths!” booth, and filling the room with echoes of musical ballads, your first night at harvard model congress was deemed memorable.

before you knew it, you were dragged to the back of the room, as wonyoung pulled out a small paper bag—which turns out to hold a couple bottles of liquor, you grabbed your glasses and started pouring.

you could see out of the corner of your eye—the girls downing shots of tequila (in secret, cause you didn't want to get caught), and the guys coming along to take a shot or two. but heeseung looked, tense.

jake slapped him on the back, giggling, “come on man, loosen up a bit! mun isn’t all about the awards and the roles, it’s about the memories!”

“and the friends we make along the way, am i right?” jay chimed in, with a teasing tone.

before you knew it, heeseung grabbed an entire bottle and downed what was equivalent to maybe 4 shots, wonyoung squealed, arguing the fact that it was a very expensive bottle of liquor.

“dude! that’s from my dad’s cabinet, it’s at least 500.000 won!” she argued, grabbing the bottle out of his hands.

as you tried to ignore his gaze, minjeong gave you your first shot—which you downed immediately, but it only made you feel like heeseung’s gaze was burning holes into you more.

heeseung sighed, “give me another one.” holding his hand out for someone to pour him a shot. “come on, i don’t got all day.” before sunghoon poured him another shot—which he downed immediately.

you hated the feeling of his stare. it felt, uncomfortable, but you liked it? the more he stared, the more you downed more shots. before you knew it, opening night came to a close, and you were stumbling your way down the hallway with wonyoung and minjeong, before finally finding your room. and in your drunken state, you passed out.

burning pain. your eyes couldn’t handle the bright light emitting from what seemed to be all around you. as you open your eyes, head spinning, you flopped back down onto your bed, exhausted, and with the hotel room ac, you felt frozen.

but as you get comfortable onto the bed once more, you feel a sense of warmth engulf your body. it felt welcoming. comfortable. maybe a bit too comfortable for your sake. but the warmth was soothing. it was, moving?

you shot back out of the bed, trying to rub your eyes to focus back onto the warmth, but that warmth pulled you back into its embrace. as if it needed you to survive.

as you try to recollect the events of last night, your usual 7am alarm rung. what a great way to ruin the moment.

a groan echoed from that warmth you once clung to, a familiar sound, a familiar… voice?

“l/n, what time is it?” it asked.

fuck.

"chill y/n, you'll be fine." you whisper to yourself, walking to your assigned council's room. from the rest of the journalists in your gang, you had been assigned to report on different councils. while wonyoung and winter were assigned to report on the ASEAN council, sunghoon to report on the UNHRC council, you were unfortunately assigned to the crisis council. just to your luck. your mind was still stuck in what happened this morning. you met your chairs, shuhua and beomgyu, role call was held, and your first committee session began.

while you were typing away a starting paragraph for an article, a bright face comes to greet you. "oh hello, l/n y/n right? i'm jungwon, the journalist for KBS! i sit right next to you in our council room."

"oh hello! i'm y/n, reporting for the new york times, it's nice to meet you." you smile, offering a hand out for him to shake, which he accepts.

"so, you got assigned to crisis too huh?" jungwon asks as you nod, "honestly it's one of the worse councils to report on because everything is moving... too fast." he sighs.

"i don't mind the speed, it gives me inspiration to write. but everyone has their capacities right?" you try to reason, whilst jungwon gives an agreeing nod.

not long after some small talk before you could enter crisis' council room, another boy tags along. his bright smile clearly infectious as you and jungwon couldn't help but smile at his bright appearance.

"annyeong! nice to meet you i'm sunoo!" he smiles, his blonde hair reflecting the lights in the room.

you shake his hand as a boy with blonde hair and black streaks tags along behind him before slapping the blonde’s arm, "i'm nishimura riki, you can call me riki. can’t believe i flew all the way from tokyo for this."

“yah! your writing is fine riki, your good shots will steal the show.” sunoo assures him, before looking back at you, and smiling.

riki sighs, before turning on his camera “i wanna get the redhead over there, heard he’s super good at mun or something..”

you blink as you realize riki was talking about none other than—heeseung.

"oh him? yeah he's my secgen." you tell him, the sentence floating out of your mouth. jungwon and sunoo turn to you with gaping mouths.

"wait- what? he's YOUR secgen? THE lee heeseung?" jungwon exclaims.

you furrow your eyebrows, "um, yeah? what's the big deal about him?"

sunoo's face lights up, as he prepares his words. "girl, he's the most highest ranking student in the high school mun circuit! his countless awards and times he's chaired makes him a legend. he's a literal model un weapon, even delegates with the veto powers are scared of him." he explains.

as you open your mouth to respond to his comment about heeseung, one of the chairs of the crisis council exits the room to greet you.

"ah hello journalists, you're here. i'm yeonjun, the head chair for crisis. we currently have unmod going on right now so you're just in time. we'll give you guys a couple opportunities to interview the delegates, but please be mindful." he explains.

you and the three boys smile back at him, before he opens the council room door and lets you in.

"delegates! i'd like to introduce to you all the journalists from the international press institute council, who will be observing our committee session. we have yang jungwon from KBS, kim sunoo from associated press, nishimura riki from NHK, and y/n l/n from the new york times. please treat them with the upmost respect.

a couple delegates say their greetings, and even explaining the current debate going on, as the four of you smile back at them. the crisis council was a popular council, and you can tell that from the amount of delegates in the room.

as you return your laptop back into your messenger bag and pulling out a notepad, a pen, and some sticky notes, you look back up only to lock eyes with heeseung. his gaze was deadly. you give him a slight smile, which he responds with an eyeroll.

the only thing you hated about being a journalist was the interviews. you needed to research, but having to interact with people you don't know? you'd rather kill yourself. it just happened that heeseung's stance was interesting enough for you to pass a post-it note to him, which he threw away.

so you were surprised to see him walk towards you during break, as you had thought he had rejected your interview offer.

"l/n, you wanted to interview me?" he'd asked you, no bad tone in his voice.

you looked at him surprised, kinda shocked, "umm, yeah? are you okay with that."

"i'm good. just, make it quick."

you open your notes to find your question you wanted to ask him, "um, do you mind if i record?" you asked, which he nodded. "okay, so as the delegate of colombia, what steps would you take to face the ongoing drug trade happening in your country? as a journalist, we have not seen you speak up much lately, so i'd like to know your thoughts."

"um, thank you for the interesting question, well i think—"

it was unlike him to treat you like this. unlikely for him to keep his cool. as you try to remember the words he was saying as you hold out your phone to record him, nothing was catching on. it was as if words went in one ear and out the other. 

he was so professional. the way he walks, and the way he talks—the way his lips move when he talks, the way he explains his stance—the way he’s saying the words—the way his lips move to pronounce it, oh and the way he-

“l/n? are you done? i’m wasting my precious break time here.” heeseung asks you, breaking you out of that trance.

you compose yourself, hitting the stop button on the voice recorder app, “oh yeah, sorry, i was thinking of another question to ask you—got carried away…”

heeseung rolls his eyes at you, before thanking you and scurrying away.

what had gotten into you? you’ve never seen heeseung in that way before. he’s always been just a secretary-general to you. who also happens to hate you. you think. 

but as the unmoderated caucus comes to a close, you return back to your council room, ready to write an article on heeseung’s stance. after all, you still had a day’s left worth of committee sessions, as well as a press conference held at the crisis council. 

the press council room was chiming with the clicks and clacks of keyboards, journalists writing articles left and right. you were in the middle of writing once again another filler article, as you had no idea what to write for your mandatory article. as you look through your gallery, observing pictures you took earlier for your articles, you can't help but notice heeseung in his element.

as you're typing a possible title for your mandatory article, you hear from beside you, "hey, what's going on with you and heeseung?" sunoo asks, as you turn to him in shock, as you were in the middle of writing an article.

you laughed nervously, "what? nothing's going on between us. he practically hates me." you sigh.

jungwon pulls his chair over to you, placing his laptop on your table in the process, "i don't think so. not from what i saw last night."

you gasped at what he said, "and what i saw this morning! i could practically feel the tension emitting off the two of you as you were interviewing him. i've never seen a man so intrigued before." riki chimes in.

"this morning? nothing happened, i was interviewing him on his stances and whatsoever for a possible article! that's all to it!" you defend yourself, trying to get back into your article.

"y/nie, sweetie, i've seen way too many kdramas to tell that the way he's looking at you, is a look of love~" sunoo teases, smiling as if he knew something more.

jungwon and riki laughes at your expression, which seemed to resemble a disgusting look, but underneath that, you felt a sting in your heart. not a bad sting, a good sting.

"but hey you two seemed pretty cozy last night, i wonder what that was for?" jungwon asked.

riki gasps, "hey i took a picture! wait let me find it..." as he pulled out his camera, going through the camera roll. "here! you guys were dancing together a lot, and he basically was carrying you back to your room. what, did you guys get drunk or something?"

you choked on your water, as the events of last night start piecing together. "i remember taking a couple shots, he did too, but all i remember after that is falling asleep on my bed... i assumed my friends helped me to get back but now that i think of it... they were pretty drunk too."

taking another closer look at the pictures riki happened to capture, you saw two beaming smiles, and from the looks of it, it looked like you two were having fun. you've never seen him smile this much, let alone around you. the other picture resembled like a married couple. it was as if heeseung was trying to pick you up, but by the looks of your drunken states, it wasn't really working.

"wouldn't it be really funny if you guys accidentally fucked or something? that would explain the tension!" jungwon jokes.

you shake your head, before putting your face in your hands, "no way, not in a million years. our tension is, well, our tension! it's what happens normally!" you try to defend.

"no you're right won, they totally fucked. i mean the floor you guys are on? most of the rooms have king or queen sized beds. what would you guys be doing other than that? snuggling into each other till the sunrise?" riki assumes, scoffing afterwards.

your eyes widened in shock, as if jungwon cut your brain opened and took out the events of what happened this morning. you put your head in your hands once more before beginning to cry.

riki saw your reaction, "hey i didn't mean it that way! i mean it's- um... great? if you fucked? but if not then that's like, totally okay! i mean sex isn't for everyone—"

sunoo cut him off, shooing him away, "stop making it worse, ki-yah! y/nie? will you tell us what happened?"

you sniffed, not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears, maybe it was the frustration? you grabbed a tissue to compose yourself, "i don't know... all i remember is i woke up this morning, in his arms, and i just jumped out and got ready. we didn't even talk about it. all of a sudden he's back to his old self and he's being mean to me again."

you take a deep breath, sunoo rubbing you on the back, trying to calm you down. "he's been like this ever since i transferred. i was just the new girl who was a press prodigy, that's what they called me back at decelis, and i don't know, he's hated me every since. no reason whatsoever. i've tried to win his attention by winning muns and stuff but, it doesn't matter. he looks at me as if i disappoint him."

jungwon and riki both comfort you as well, before jungwon has a strike of realization. "you know, it's not that i wanna stir up delusion in your mind, but it's quite common for guys to hate someone because they like them. what if he has a crush on you?"

riki realizes as well, "yeah what if? what if all this time he's been trying so hard to hate you because he actually likes you?"

hearing the words likes you come out of their mouths makes you shudder in fear. no way he likes you. right?

before you knew it, your chair returns to announce that press conferences are due to start soon. and up first? was the crisis council.

stepping foot into the crisis room, with the information in mind, you start to notice the tiny little characteristics that match with the fact. the fact that the lee heeseung might as well have a crush on you. as you, sunoo, and two other journalists were guided to the front of the room, your chair explaining to the crisis delegates how the press conference was going to work, before giving the floor to the journalists.

you keep your head hung, distracting yourself by re-reading the questions you’ve written on your notepad, peeking through your hair, trying to take a glimpse of heeseung.

heeseung was in his element as always, head deep in his laptop, a couple volunteers passing by to give him a post-it note, filled with scribbles of other delegates wishing to be on his side. but as per usual, his critical self crumples the notes and puts it aside to his pile of other crumpled notes.

sunoo, on your left, nudges you in the arm, trying to snap you out of it. the moment you lift your head to look at the delegates and compose yourself, you catch heeseung looking at you.

with your bloodshot eyes, your usual smile fading, heeseung can’t help but notice what happened. you were fine last break. your eyes which used to be sparkling with curiosity had been traded for puffy eyes and a fake smile.

he wanted to come up to you, wanted to ask what’s wrong. but as your chair introduced the journalists, he’d wonder if it was just an impulsive thought.

each journalist had to share 10 minutes worth of press conference time to ask questions, a tight amount of time. as the journalist on your far left begins, the clock begins to tick. being the last journalist to ask, you begin to feel worried.

but as the mic is passed to you, and mere two minutes left on the clock, you scramble to compose yourself and your questions. “this journalist would like to open the question to the floor, with the excessive drug trade impacting the economy of your countries, what is an effective solution you’d have to decrease the drug circulation, but at the same time, would not damage your economy?”

placards were raised, and amongst them, were heeseung’s. you could see the colombian flag on his placard raised high, but as the journalist of the new york times, your work came first. therefore, you chose someone else. “yes, delegate of the united states?”

the delegate of the united states stood up, and you finally saw the name on his nametag. yang jeongin. he smirked at you, sending a wink. “thank you madam journalist for the intriguing question, as the drug trade across our country begins to increase…”

as you held your hand forward holding your phone out to record his answer, continuing to talk for the next minute. it felt like a lifetime. but in the corner of your eye, you could feel his gaze burning holes. heeseung held his placard high, glaring dead straight at jeongin even if he was still speaking. but as you thank jeongin for his answer, you open the question once more to the floor.

you hear a screech of the chair as heeseung, the only one holding his placard up, stands up to answer. but you don’t discern anything he says. you just stare at him. before you knew it, the clock rang, signaling that time was up.

sunoo nudged your arm once more, trying to snap you out of it. “you okay?” he asked, worry written all over his face. you nodded to tell him you were okay.

as you were escorted out of the room to head to the hotel restaurant for lunch break, you couldn't help but feel the same feeling of heeseung's gaze at the back of your head. you ignored him, walking out with sunoo by your side.

but you were stopped briefly by someone, none other than the delegate of the united states. "hey, that was a very interesting question you asked earlier at press conference. i was wondering if you need my insight on anything? given as i'm usa and you're the new york times." jeongin suggests, his usual smirk returning from before. sunoo winked at you, before leaving the two of you alone in the hallway.

you blink at him, "oh! yeah, i was thinking about gaining insight from, well our country's side of the story. so what can you tell me?"

your notepad flips open along the click of your pen, ready to jot down his words, before out of the corner of your eye, that sharp gaze returns. the burning stare heeseung emitted was back. you gulped and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "hey, um jeongin? could we find somewhere a bit more quiet so i can record the interview? i need to make sure everything is clear because i need to submit the questions to my chairs."

jeongin smiled, "of course sweetheart, i know just the place." before he took your hand and led you away. unbeknownst to you, heeseung was fuming.

as the two of you walked away, heeseung couldn't help but wonder. what's so great about yang jeongin anyways? compared to himself, his track record was not all that. yeah he may have won most outstanding or honorable mention a couple times, but never best delegate. consecutively.

heeseung felt a tap on his shoulder, before briefly turning around. jay was standing there with a cup of coffee. he grabbed it out of his hands before immediately drinking out of it.

"that's! hot coffee..." jay protested. but to heeseung, his rage burned hotter. "what's got your panties in a twist?" jay asked, sipping his own cup of coffee.

"nothing, just pissed at a delegate. per usual." heeseung lied. as the two begun to make their way to restaurant to eat lunch.

jay chuckled, seeing his pissed face, "dude, i've known you for over eight years, you don't get pissed at a delegate for no reason. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, everyone here? they're basically professionals. mun legends. i wouldn't have afford this shit if i wasn't good at it. the awards and prizes helped fund this hobby."

heeseung sighed, "it's not just a delegate. it's someone else."

"it's y/n, isn't it?" heeseung snapped his head to glare at jay, as if he grew three heads. "chill dude, i can tell. you're painfully in love with her."

"no no no, you don't get it, she's a menace to my track record. do you remember back at decelis mun before she transferred? her article basically ruined my record the next five muns? i basically had to avoid chairing so the rumors wouldn't be deemed true." heeseung argued, reminiscing the times.

"but you'd argue she's a damn good writer, isn't she?" jay defended, "i mean no one from decelis has won consecutively aside from you. and she comes in to make the decelis name proud. aren't you glad? you're secgen after all. you're just in denial."

heeseung sighed, looking at his cup of coffee, once full, now empty. "i'm not in denial! i'm just stressed with a couple delegates in committee session, unmoderated caucus was, stressful."

entering the restaurant, their eyes landed to the corner booth, where you sat face to face with jeongin. jay turned his head to look at heeseung staring deadset at the two. "well, whatever floats your boat man, i'm gonna get some lunch. unsc might as well go to crisis next comses." jay pats him on the back, joining sunghoon, jake, wonyoung, and minjeong.

heeseung stood still. he couldn't help but wonder. is this what love feels like?

"so, yang jeongin, what can you tell me about the united states' stance on the current illegal drug trade? i assume that the country is fully aware of it happening?" you ask, pressing record on your voicenotes app.

jeongin looked around, before reaching over and pressing the stop recording button on your phone. before you could protest, "okay cut the crap, what's going on between you and lee heeseung?"

you looked at him strangely, not expecting the sudden confrontation. "well, nothing? i don't know what you want me to say, this isn't part of the interview."

jeongin dug into his food, "screw that shit, i wanna know why your secgen is all on my ass. i mean i looked at you once at comses earlier, and he looked at me like i lit an orphanage on fire."

you almost choked on your pasta, "what the hell, dude. he's just like that. he hates my guts so much he has to make me feel uncomfortable everywhere i go. i literally bring home decelis as many awards as he has in the past two years. i don't get him."

"nah, i don't think that's hate. he looked at me as if he was clyde and i was trying to steal away his bonnie. that's a look of love."

you sighed, "the thing is jeongin, he doesn't care. i've done everything to pique his attention, best journalist awards left and right, i was supposed to run for deputy secgen but he didn't let me. he said i wasn't a true decelis muner yet. i mean 8 muns in the span of a couple months? and i've never lost a single one? he probably hates me because i chose the lamest council."

jeongin swallows his food before he comes to realization, "hey weren't you the journalist who wrote on heeseung back at decelis' mun? i remember felix-hyung, my friend, that he went feral over it. he was chairing unicef, and in the chairs' room, he overheard heeseung talking about your article. how it was going to ruin his track record, or something."

"i mean, i do remember briefly. wonyoung, my chair, said i was allowed to write about the chairs or staff, even if they were filler articles. i wrote about heeseung and jay out of interest, i didn't know their history." you confessed, feeling quite bad about the outcome. "i didn't want my article to end up being gossip or shit talk, i just wrote what i wanted to."

"freedom of the press, am i right?" jeongin laughed, "speaking of the devil." signaling heeseung heading towards your table.

heeseung stood at your table. "yang. l/n." before scooting next to jeongin's side of the booth. you couldn't help but move your eyes between the two. after what sunoo and the boys told you earlier, and jeongin's confirmation that basically people could tell, you sit there in silence.

heeseung clears his throat, "well i'm not seeing much interviewing going on, delegates."

you scoffed at him, "it's none of your business heeseung. we're all delegates, it's lunch break. you don't have to boss around all the time."

"our decelis guidebook strictly confers to not confide in the enemy. and here you are, with the enemy. you know if you spill precious information regarding us we'd be dead?" he scolded you.

a laugh escaped your throat, "the enemy? jeongin is far from the enemy to me. matter of fact, heeseung, you've been more of an enemy to me rather than a secgen."

jeongin whispered, "keep it down y/n, it's okay."

you stood up in anger, "no it's not okay! i've been trying my hardest to do everything i can, i've won consecutively since my first mun at decelis, i've done everything you ask for. i've done nothing but make the decelis name proud, but i just can't happen to make you proud. what do i have to do next? i do everything and all i do is fall at second best. if you hate me so much then kick me off the goddamn team! wouldn't want me tarnishing your precious track record by having a traitor on the team, would you? all this over a stupid article i wrote months ago." you walk away from the table, returning to your room.

heeseung was speechless, the rest of the room was in awe, normally delegates would be able to stay professional. even if there was a break up or something. even wonyoung and minjeong looked at heeseung in anger, meanwhile jake, jay, and sunghoon looked at him in disappointment. jeongin stood up and left the booth, avoiding any more anger out of heeseung. "if i were you, i'd apologize. that girl has done nothing but try to please you and make you proud. start there." jeongin added before leaving.

out of habit, heeseung hung his head low in embarrassment. this was worse than the time you wrote that article about him. as he stood up to confide in the boys for advice, he spots a small leather notepad in the corner of the booth. it was yours. he'd have to find you, face you and give it back. it wouldn't hurt to read a bit of what's inside, right?

running back to your room, you couldn't dare return till next comses. the fact that an entire room full of delegates and chairs had heard you scream at heeseung's face. and returning back to the bed you woke up from this morning, limbs tangled with heeseung, didn't really help.

hiding your face in your bedsheets, tears flowing freely, you couldn't help but smell the familiar cologne he had left behind. the smell stung your nose, and made your eyes water more. the scent that once plagued you, now had lulled you to sleep.

a blurry facade appeared, the sound of heavy noise music remained muffled. your feet were cold on the hotel floor, destination? room 777. you were swaying side to side, but thankfully you were able to hold on to a pillar, which was moving with you.

"we shouldn't have drunk this much, right l/n? i'm not even sure i'm prepped for comses tomorrow morning." the pillar said.

"you have it easy, lee. you don't have to write 4 pieces worth of mandatory articles and observe other council's committee sessions." you replied, a clear slur in your voice.

it, who turned out to be heeseung, laughed, and it was like music to your ears. "i thought you journalists just copy-pasted shit off google or something, didn't get why you'd have to sit in the back of council rooms."

you scoffed at him, "well, as secretary-general, you should've known better. if only you noticed what i've been doing all this time to get your attention, maybe you would've understood."

"you think i haven't been paying attention? i've had my eyes on you ever since you wrote that silly article about me back at decelis mun. 'who's really chairing crisis?' you do know me and jay have been friends since primary, right?" he argued.

"that i know know, lee. the fact that you caused all the fuss over an article that was purely for mun, and had no ill intention is just stupid. i just wanted to be able to express myself." you confessed, feeling underestimated.

he sighed, pressing the up button on the lift, "it's not that i fussed over an article, it's that you wrote about me. i don't see many people brave enough to write about a secretary-general." before he could continue, the doors to the lift dinged and opened, allowing the two of you to walk in.

"i mean," he stuttered, clicking the number seven on the lift's buttons, "you amazed me. i've never met a person who could express themselves so much through their writing. no one paid attention to me enough to write such a critical piece about me."

you smiled at him, "so i'm special? i was the first to write about you, right?" he chuckled at your cheeky comment, "yes you're a first. i wouldn't mind if you kept writing about me."

"but why'd you hate me? i've done so much for decelis to make you proud, but you still have a way to butcher me. i just wanted to impress you." you'd sighed into his chest, the world beginning to spin.

luckily, heeseung had caught you before you fell, right on time as the lift reached the seventh floor. he basically carried you out, trying not to drop you.

"if i hated you so much, i wouldn't be helping you get back to our room, nor would i be making sure you get back safely." he assured you, holding you in his arms.

you groaned in protest, "but you do, don't you? i'm never enough for you, after everything i've done. all the things i did—"

you were shut up by his lips on yours. out of the blue, with no warning signs, he had kissed you. out of habit you kissed him back, lips molding against each other as if you had been waiting for years, as if you couldn't live without each other. all hatred you held against him dissipated. your arms crawling towards the back of his neck to pull him closer, his own pulling on your waist.

he pulled away to take a breath, but you couldn't breathe. he was your oxygen. you connected the two of you together, chasing his lips, his touch, his presence. it was the sweetness, the flavor of love and lust hanging. you’ve been craving his attention, hell, even his touch for months.

but your lungs craved oxygen, forcing you to pull away, hiding your face in his chest. as you were taking in the moment, he chuckled, "i wouldn't have done that if i hated you, would i?"

waking up with a jolt, the memories of last night came rushing in. you thanked yourself that the two of you hadn't fucked, but the idea of kissing him and liking it gave yourself insight. you wondered if heeseung remembered too.

opening your phone and seeing the time, you rushed out of your room as you were late to your next editorial meeting. it being the last committee session of the day, all you had to do was submit your mandatory articles of the day, and you'd be done. running back to your council room, knocking slightly on the door, you rushed back to your seat.

"journalist, you're late. why is that?" shuhua asked, beomgyu beside her, taking notes.

you sat down and composed yourself, "i'm sorry chairs, i slept in during break. it won't happen again."

the chairs nodded at you, letting it pass. the room discussed about how press conferences was, reminding the journalists of the upcoming deadline, but your mind was in the gutter.

you touch your lips, and you feel the lingering taste on your tongue. you were shocked out of your trance with the knocks of the chairs' gavel hitting the sound block. with only an hour left to finish your mandatory article, you begin to type.

social night was an mun tradition. after a full day of committee sessions, all councils, no matter what their council was, it gave a chance for all the delegates to mingle amongst each other.

free from the deadline of your first mandatory article, you had the whole night to party it out before tomorrow, where you had to finish your final mandatory article.

social nights usually had themes, and tonight, harvard model congress' was inspired by bridgerton, along with masquerade masks were in array. you had packed a a black dress, which belonged to your mother. she’d always tell you to save it for a special occasion, a moment you wouldn’t want to forget. and for tonight, as you miss your mom's touch, you wear your dress with pride.

walking to the venue, and right before you could even enter, you’re immediately greeted by wonyoung and minjeong. "oh my god sweets are you okay?" wonyoung asked, holding your face, clear worry in her eyes. "we heard and saw what happened at lunch, good for you to finally confront the bitch." minjeong commented, which earned her, once again, another slap on the arm by wonyoung.

you nodded at the two, holding their hands, "i'm fine, don't worry. i just needed to get it out of my system, that's all."

"to think of it, i haven't seen him since. normally when you pass by the crisis room, you'd hear his voice bouncing off the walls..." wonyoung confessed, "that's very unlike of him."

minjeong scoffs at her comment, "who cares? he's been downplaying y/n's achievements for the past couple months, i wouldn't be able to stay quiet if i were you."

you sighed at the two bickering in front of you, "guys, i just want tonight to be about us. this is harvard model congress for god's sake, i want to make the best out of it. so can we stop the heeseung talk and have some fun? please?"

the two nodded at your request, not pestering you any further. you all walk into the venue, being handed masquerade masks. the venue was decorated to the nines, and it felt like a ball straight out of bridgerton. the three of you were guided to your delegation table, which seated you, the girls, jake, and sunghoon. but heeseung? he was no where to be found.

"where's heeseung? it's not like him to miss out on social night." jake asked you.

you sat down on your assigned seat, and the seat on your right, which was supposed to occupy heeseung, was cold and empty. "why are you asking me? he hates me, remember?"

jake shrugged, "i don't know, i just reckoned that since the two of you are sharing a room, you'd know where he is."

minjeong scoffs, "who cares? y/n got ready at me and wony's room anyways, so no, we don't know where he is."

"jay said earlier today that he's been looking for him. wonder where he went. and if he found him..." sunghoon tells the table, sipping on his glass of water.

stuck in your trance, you were snapped out of it by a screeching of a chair, one, being jay, and the other was right next to you. heeseung. he was in his usual suit and tie, a couple buttons on the top were unbuttoned. you glanced at his tired eyes, hidden underneath the masquerade mask.

"dude? where've you been?" jake asked jay, slapping him on the shoulder.

jay sighed and drank a gulp of his water, "looking for this asshole over here." while pointing at heeseung, "took me a while to find him literally on the rooftop. i swear seoul uni has the most crazy hideouts. i'm not even sure i can even find my way back."

"how'd you find your way there anyways?" sunghoon asked heeseung.

he sighed, "don't know. just, found it." his demeanor slipping away as you begin to see the raw brokenness. you didn't hurt his ego that much, right?

as the clock struck seven, waiters all around the room began laying out the meals. you took a glimpse of the dinner courses in front of you, not really having an appetite for anything. but you still tried to eat, tried not to waste your food, tried to seem okay in front of him.

heeseung, on the other hand, was trying his best not to combust. sitting next to you was hard enough, but the fact you were wearing such a beautiful dress had him awestruck. he also lost his appetite. he couldn't help but stare at you.

after dinner, your friends stood up and ran over to the dance floor, and you were unfortunately dragged along. a remix of many famous hits were played, before you sang your hearts out to iris, by the goo goo dolls. you felt someone tap you on your shoulder, which to your surprise you see jeongin.

"could i have this dance?" he asked, hand out for you to grab, iris still playing in the background.

you nodded and grabbed his hand before you two danced foolishly to iris, heels discarded, his suit as well, just dancing your hearts out. but you had your limits, you were tired and excused yourself to grab some water. before you felt a nudge on your right, as heeseung leaned towards your ear. "can we talk later? don't say no just yet, just follow the green post its."

he walks away, as you look at him in confusion. feeling bad for what you said at lunch, you decide to meet him and see what he has to say.

following the pins of green post-its he left behind, you find yourself at the hidden rooftop jay was talking about at dinner. you open the door to be shocked at the view. the stars twinkling in the night sky. and stood there near the edge, was heeseung.

you broke the silence, clearing your throat, "you wanted to speak to me?"

heeseung looked at you and your dress, his mind going places. "yeah. i did. i'm not expecting an apology. i deserve it."

"but why'd you hate me so much, heeseung?" you whined at him, sick of his jokes.

"the thing is l/n, i don't!" he shouts, walking towards you, "it's not that i hate you, it's that i hate the way you make me feel. i hate the way you're so good at writing, i hate the way you win everything to make me proud, i hate the way you know my weaknesses, i hate the way you never gave up. you're on my mind every fucking day."

you walk up towards him, pulling his suit to pull him down, and him not expecting anything, you slap him across his face.

heeseung immediately pulled back, "ow! what was that for?"

"that was for not telling me about how you felt. you didn't have to bottle it up, you know?" you scoffed.

"and you didn't have to either!" he protested back, pulling out a familiar journal. your journal.

you grabbed it from his hands, "how'd you find this? i didn't even realize it was missing..."

heeseung sighed, "you know for a smart writer like you, you're very forgetful." a smile beginning to emerge.

"what did you read, heeseung? tell me." you asked, afraid that your secrets would spill out.

heeseung walked towards you, "enough to know that you're too stubborn to even tell me the truth. if you'd been feeling this way for months then you should have told me."

you gasped at him, "i would have told you about it if you weren't such a dick all the time? and then you kissing me last night just added more fuel to the fire." not realizing what you said, heeseung cupped your face, which was full of confusion.

"you remember last night?"

you blinked. "everything."

he laughed, "then you'd know i wouldn't hate you as much if i was doing this, would i?"

the familiar taste of his lips returned as he kissed you. you held onto his hands as he caressed your face. the oxygen you once craved had been fulfilled. you strung your arms around his neck, clinging onto him for dear life. you could feel the burst of sparks just surrounding the two of you, a moment you both craved.

the wavering facade between the two finally faded, unleashing the raw desire the two of you had, rushing through your veins.

you pulled away, heeseung leaning his forehead onto yours, before he gave you his best smile. you blushed out of nervousness and proximity the two of you held, not used to this view.

"you still hate me now?" you joked, smiling at him. his eyes softened, before he laughed, and kissing you once more, not wanting to let go. and as the stars glimmered under the night sky, you forgot time ever existed. forget the committee sessions due tomorrow, it was the two of you against the world.

surely, waking up on the final day of the conference would give you a sense of peace, right? wrong. you had spent so much time last night making out and talking with heeseung that you forgot your final mandatory article was due soon. waking up from the bed the two shared, limbs tangled once more, this time, you weren't ashamed.

you kissed heeseung's forehead to wake him up, and despite heeseung's wishes to stay in and make out some more, you declined and got ready.

"can't you just stay? a bit late to the first comses of the day won't hurt your awards." heeseung groaned, asking you to return.

"i was late at yesterday's comses post-lunch, so i think i'm going to be a good girl and come early to this one." you replied, fixing your tie.

heeseung basically stood up and tried to pull you back to bed, "come on, just be my good girl. i promise you will be awarded with all of my kisses in the world."

you shook your head, "missing out on a couple kisses won't be the death of me. come on, you need to prep for comses too."

heeseung moaned in complaint, "no, i'd break my streak for you, i don't care. i just want to stay in with you, away from everybody."

you were able to crawl your way out of his touch, "nope! i'm not letting you lose your streak just over me. come on, get ready. i'm going down for breakfast."

"can i at least have a goodbye kiss before you go?" he pouted, and the way his eyes resembled bambi, you gave in.

you tried to just give him a quick peck, but his touch was so fragile and welcoming, that if you didn't stand your ground, you'd probably be pinned down till the rest of the day. but you didn't want that, so you let go of his touch, assuring him that you'd spend more time with him after the conference.

now, here you were, back in your conference room with a giddy look on your face. you couldn't help but dream of last night. even sunoo, riki, jungwon, along with wonyoung, minjeong, and sunghoon, were even surprised to see you better all of a sudden.

"okay is this some weird process girls do the cope with sadness, cause if so how do we fix her?" sunoo asked, concerned.

wonyoung was staring at you like you were beaming, "it looks like pregnancy glow."

riki basically spit out his coffee, "wait so they actually fucked?"

minjeong snapped at riki, "who fucked?"

"we had speculation that, y/n and heeseung fucked the first night, hence why she was out of it the next day..." jungwon explained to the rest.

sunghoon, the only person out of the group who happened to know heeseung the best, commented that; "no there's no way he fucked her. if they fucked, they wouldn't have been here."

"could you stop speculating that me and heeseung fucked?" you snapped at the group. not out of anger, but annoyed that you couldn't concentrate.

"sorry, but did you?" riki enquired, earning him a riki! from the group around him. "what? i just wanna know."

you sighed, standing up and packing a couple things, "who cares if we fucked or not? just leave us alone." as you head out of the council room, heading to the crisis room for some final details.

contrary to how you first felt when you walked into the room, your heart felt full of hope. that this time, heeseung wouldn't be staring at you with hatred, instead of love. you hoped you wouldn't distract him.

as you walked into the council room, you nodded at chair yeonjun, before taking a seat at the prepared seats for the journalists. you sit down, open your laptop as you're typing your final mandatory article. you tried to glimpse towards heeseung, but you were returned with the same feeling as yesterday. the sharp gaze was back. maybe it's because he's in is element? mun is important to him... you thought, and busied yourself to writing your article. since it was your final committee session, you just had to submit your article and return for the closing editorial meeting. quickly clicking submit, and the chairs deeming the final committee session over, you wanted to sneak a quick kiss before returning for your meeting.

you stood up from your seat and walked towards heeseung. he stood up and saw you, walking your way. instead of being greeted by a hug or a kiss, he brushed past you to talk to his fellow delegates. you felt a pang in your chest, the way heeseung ignored you like that. you thought everything was okay. the kisses you shared, the conversations you had. you looked back at heeseung only to see him busy talking with the other delegates, barely sparing you a glance. you left the room quickly, not looking back.

unbeknownst to you, heeseung saw you leaving, his heart barely surviving after treating you like that. you deserved better than him. he couldn't have it all.

the final editorial meeting of press councils should be a joy to you. no more deadlines, no more press conferences. but you were stuck in your head. repeating the interaction over and over in your head, you didn't understand a single thing.

after the comments and input from both the chairs and the journalists, chair shuhua decided to pull out the gossip box. you'd been informed prior about the gossip box filling at social night, but since you ran off with heeseung to make out the night away, you didn't have time to fill it in.

as shuhua and beomgyu begin to read the entries, earning laughter all around the room, a certain entry snaps you out of your trance.

"oh this is a good one! new york times from press and colombia from crisis actually fit really good together! hope the enemies finally turn into lovers! wait is this about y/n and heeseung?" chair shuhua asks, causing the whole room to look at you.

you looked at everyone strangely, "what? there's nothing."

chair beomgyu shook his head, "no no no, i don't think there's nothing. come on spill the tea, something must've happened the past three days."

everybody was waiting on your response. waiting for you to tell everyone what happened. you just wanted them to shut up. "okay well. we kissed."

the group of six who were pestering you earlier, gasped loudly. earning you a rumble of no shit's, wait actually's, and a loud jinjja?!

you couldn't help but sink back into your seat, still upset about the way he treated you earlier. "yeah, but he's treating me like shit again today, so. that's that."

the entire room aww'ed in disappointment, before the chairs read out a couple more entries, and adjourns the final editorial. you stand up to clean your table, taking out a pen to begin signing each others' placards. signing everybody else's, photo sessions were in array, and after you were finally allowed to have some free time before awarding ceremony.

awarding ceremony was one of those moments where you have hope, but at the same time you don't. you start rethinking choices you made during the conference, wondering if you made the right option. you headed your way to where the press council was sat at, where you met a couple other delegates, even bumping into jeongin, wishing each other a good luck!

you sit down between wonyoung and minjeong, which earned you an endearing hug from the two, assuring your problems with heeseung didn't matter. stuck in your head, you didn't notice the boys' absence in the room. and awarding had begun. the secretary-general of harvard model congress came up and made their speech, thanking all the delegates for participating and giving their best. chairs from other councils begin to come up to give their awards.

meanwhile, outside of the room, was heeseung cornered by jay, jake, and sunghoon.

heeseung, not caught up with the situation, looked at the three with confusion. "what did i do?"

jay scoffed, "what did you do? you managed to fuck it up again? what did i tell you?!" shaking the life out of him.

heeseung shook his head in confusion, not knowing what to do, when sunghoon came up to him, "look man, your little feud with y/n has to stop. i don't get you anymore. i thought you'd be good at this after helping me and wonyoung get together..."

"nah dude you're in denial. what do you mean you two basically confessed to not hating each other and then made out a bunch of times, only for you to leave her and ignore her like so? that's crazy." jake protested. that was the truth.

"i don't know what to tell you, but me and jake have got to get back for unsc awarding, but please think about it? i know you feel scared of this whole love thing, but i assure you, it's okay to feel this way." jay says, leaving with jake, which left sunghoon with heeseung alone.

heeseung didn't know what to do. for the first time in his life, everything was out of his control. he craved you and needed you, but he felt like he didn't deserve you. it was as if a crisis was happening in his own mind.

as he hears the cheers of the room with every award that is given out, his heart races. he hears the announcement where jay and jake both won best delegates, which they had been double delegating in.

sunghoon kept trying to comfort heeseung, not knowing what to say to him. "look, i may not understand the way your mind works, but i assure you that you deserve her. you've put yourself through it all for decelis, and the track record that we have wouldn't have been what it is now if it wasn't for you. i don't know what plan you're cooking up, but whatever it is, win her back." heeseung looks at sunghoon with sheer nervousness in his eyes. "press and crisis are left, so whatever you want to do? do it now. before its too late."

leaving heeseung alone outside the room, sunghoon walks back in, returning to where the press journalists sat. he saw you picking on your nails out of habit, nervous for the next awards. as your chairs walk up to the podium, sunghoon just hopes heeseung would do something.

as names begin getting called out, sunoo winning best pre-conference video, then riki and jungwon winning verbal commendations, wonyoung and minjeong winning honorable mentions, you held on tight to the tiny string of hope left. it was probably between you and sunghoon left. as you look around the room, heeseung is still nowhere to be found. you had hoped that maybe with this win, you'd make him proud once and for all.

"the final two journalists were a tight match. these two shown impeccable talent in their articles and presence the past three days." shuhua announces. "it is with our great pleasure that the most outstanding journalist goes to, park sunghoon!"

wonyoung, who was on the stage prior, basically screams in joy. you high five sunghoon before he winks at you, knowing you'd win best journalist. but a part of you still thinks you won't.

beomgyu gives sunghoon his award, before adjusting his mic. "this final journalist has pure talent in her writing, and have awestruck the both of us with her work. without further ado, we would like to present that the best journalist award goes to none other than... l/n y/n!"

relief. that's all what washes towards you. yes you've heard your name and the words best journalist go along too often, but every time it happens, it always feels euphoric. as you walk up the stage to receive your award, earning smiles from the other awardees, you couldn't help but look to the crowd.

you see jay and jake basically jumping up and down in joy, but heeseung was still nowhere to be found. a pang of disappointment burns in your chest as you walk down the podium with your certificate in hand. an array of congratulations! are heard, as you sit back down for the final awarding. crisis.

zoning out, after feeling the euphoria of your win, your mind drifts off to heeseung. how would he feel? was he proud?

as chair yeonjun announces the awardees, you are cut out of your trance with every round of applause. you see jeongin win most outstanding, and you cheer for him.

as yeonjun clears his throat for the final award, he begins his speech. "this final award goes to a delegate who really deserves it all. although this mun may have not been his best run, he deserves so much more than the title: prodigy. i'd like to present this best delegate award to none other than... you know what? lee heeseung get up here, get your award, and get your girl!"

with pure shock, you watch as heeseung bursts through the doors, run up to the podium, quickly shake his chairs' hands, grabs his certificate, and runs down. and he's running to you.

he drops his certificate on the floor, before engulfing you in the biggest hug he's ever given in his life. spinning you around, you squeal in excitement. he whispers in your ear an array of i'm so proud of you's, before putting you down, and kissing you in front of everyone.

you cling onto him, parting your lips allowing him to kiss you deeper and deeper, and the feeling of sparks flying around you made it feel like it would last forever. your ears muffle all the cheers surrounding you, only focusing on heeseung, and heeseung only.

he puts you down and rests his forehead on yours, exactly like how he did on the rooftop the night before. "how'd you pull this off?" you ask him, still on cloud nine.

"eh, had some help from chair yeonjun. didn't expect the bestdel though." heeseung laughs, holding you by the waist, tighter, and tighter.

you held his face closer, wanting to feel his touch, "why'd you do that? why'd you run?"

"y/n. i love you. i never knew how to say it all this time, because it's a feeling unlike any other. to the point it made me feel as if my life was in crisis. but that's when i realized i never had it all. not until i found you."

taglist; @riekiss @sesameoil721 @desistay @capri-cuntz @beomluvrr @shawnyle @tya0 @heexoolio @sunghoonsgff @spiderhanzzz (crossed out = i can't tag you)

back to my masterlist?

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction.

© 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐄, est. 2024 | do not plagiarize, modify, translate, or repost my works on any platforms.

[fangswbenefits]

Devotion

Summary: You give yourself to Miguel, and he's about to show you what complete devotion looks and feels like.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 6.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Reader POV. V*rginity loss. Cr*ampie. F*ngering. C*mplay. Org*sm denial. After care. Edg*ng. Br*eding k*nk. Mentions of pregnancy.

Part 1. Previous Part.

Thank you so much to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish 🩷

Miguel had scooped you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you to his bedroom, slowly placing you on his bed.

He then leaned in to place a kiss to your temple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head back, hoping to have his lips on yours once instead. 

The truth was that you were absolutely smitten by him. Relationships are often complicated. People are complicated. Miguel was a complex person, and yet, you felt drawn to him.

You could still remember the first time you realised your feelings for him transcended those of a regular friendship.

It had begun with him looking after you in the lab. It had been innocent and fleeting enough, but the heart works in strange ways. The way he was so adamant about you having to take care of yourself awoke in you a feeling that you were seldom presented with:

Affection.

His lips hovered over yours, snapping you from your thoughts, and you brought a hand to the side of his face. "Please kiss me…"

Even through the darkness that engulfed his room, you could still spot a faint smile.

And he did as you requested. 

Your back arched nearly instantly, seeking more of him. Even though your body had barely recovered from your orgasm, you felt desire flare inside you at an alarming rate.

He quickly deepened the kiss by parting your lips with his experienced tongue, and you eagerly let him in, moving your hand to the back of his neck, yanking him closer.

Nearly losing balance, Miguel placed both hands on either side of you for support, settling in between your legs.

A moan rose in your throat, and you broke the kiss at the feeling of your clit throbbing, as the underside of his cock settled between your folds.

"We can stop."

You stared into his crimson eyes. "Do you want to stop?"

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "This isn't about me."

Oh.

Desire had clouded your mind, almost making you forget that you were still very much inexperienced. But you still craved the fluidity and eagerness of couples who already knew their way around each other's bodies… with no virginity in the way.

Truth be told, if there was anyone who you'd give yourself to, it would be Miguel O'Hara.

You wouldn't utter these words out of fear of sounding ridiculous at best, and desperate at worst.

"I want more…" you whispered instead, rolling your hips and causing his cock to slide along your clit.

He moaned, but gripped your hip to a halt with strong fingers. "Are you on birth control?"

The question caught you momentarily off guard, and you blinked. "What?"

"If you want to continue… I have to know."

"Yes—Yes, I have an implant."

Hormonal imbalance had been the sole reason, though. Irregular periods accompanied by terrible cramps had taken a toll on you. 

Pregnancy had been the farthest thing on your mind.

Miguel groaned lowly before burying his face in your neck, lips caressing your flushed skin, which caused your hips to jolt into him.

He immediately hissed from the sudden friction, and began to match your tempo deliciously slowly.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan embarrassingly loudly with each slide of his cock against your clit.

He quickly grazed his thumb across your lower lip, releasing it from your teeth's grasp. "Please… let me hear you…"

The plea mixed with his gentle touch was enough to have your mouth part in a whimper. 

"Louder."

Your eyes fluttered shut once the tips of his fangs began to poke your skin, and you couldn't hold back the loud moan that erupted from your throat.

Wet sounds and sticky sounds echoed all around you, as you began to drip, adding more and more layers of your own wetness around his cock. 

Ambient lights were suddenly switched on, an orange and yellow gradient filling your field of vision.

Miguel brought his lips to your cheek. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sank your fingers into his soft hair, arching your back slightly, your nipple piercings digging into the taut muscles of his chest.

In reality, you were terrified. Miguel seemed to be on the thicker side than what you had expected, and you didn't see yourself taking more than one of his fingers, so his cock definitely overwhelmed you.

Would it hurt? Would he be gentle? Would you even enjoy it?

The preconception that having sex for the first time was a painful ordeal was engraved into your subconscious. Growing up, you had heard some scary recounts of first times from your friends. 

But you were still clinging on to the hope that Miguel knew what he was doing. 

So you took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure…"

He shifted to press a kiss to your forehead. "You can tell me to stop if it gets too much," he murmured. "And I will."

You had no doubt he would. 

But it still made your heart speed up, and an uneasy feeling spread throughout your body rather quickly.

He reached over you to grip one long pillow and eased it under you until your back pressed against it, angling your torso so your eyes could be met with the sight of his cock dripping precum. 

Now you understood why he had turned the lights on.

Then, you heard a click and stared as he removed his dimensional travel watch, placing it on his bedside table.

Oh.

Your soaked folds were wrapped snugly around him, and you gasped as you spotted your swollen clit peeking from under his cock.

"Does that feel good?" Miguel asked, voice strained. 

You could only stare in complete and utter fascination, as he kept dripping more and more precum, the droplets eventually running down along your folds.

"Yes… you're really…" you paused briefly, completely transfixed with the amount of precum. "Is it normal for you to…"

Miguel's eyes followed your line of sight, and he chuckled upon realising what you meant. 

"With you, yes."

His bluntness had your walls clench instinctively around nothing in anticipation.

He then raised his hips and you watched as strings of precum mixed with your wetness dangled from his cock, before he kneeled at your side, slowly dipping the mattress.

You were about to protest at the loss of contact, but he immediately silenced you with a hungry kiss, drawing a couple of whimpers from you.

The taste of him had become so familiar to you by now, that it served to soothe your frustration and impatience.

Your hand tapped around blindly until it found what it was looking for.

Wrapping your fingers tightly around his hard cock, you tugged gently, and Miguel quickly broke the kiss with a delicious hiss. "Fuck…"

The heat pooling between your legs was becoming unbearable and, with each throb of your clit, uncertainty gave way to burning desire.

"Miguel… please…"

He pecked your cheek. "I need you ready for me."

You pouted in response. "I am."

He then brought his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "Can you take more than one of my fingers, then?"

Your heart faltered once you felt one hand trail down from your neck, caressing your hardened nipples, before traveling down until it reached your swollen clit.

"Can you, sweet girl?"

That term of endearment had begun to grow on you, and it almost made you moan out your answer.

"I think… I think so," you said, trying to muster your confidence.

He then pressed a kiss to the pulse point on your neck.

You watched as he traced your clit with his middle finger, coating it in your wetness. The view was hypnotic and you stifled a moan as he rubbed at your entrance once, before plunging the finger inside.

As if seeking an immediate anchor, you gripped his cock tighter, feeling beads of precum steadily spreading across your hand.

"Easy, cariño… not so tight."

This wasn't even considered dirty talking, but it was enough to have you buck your hips against him, and he eased inside easily, burying himself knuckle-deep. 

Crimson eyes watched your every reaction attentively, and you gasped as the heel of his palm pressed down on your throbbing clit.

"Tell me how it feels," Miguel cooed, sliding in and out of you at a torturous pace. "I need to know."

You hummed in response, trying your best to ride his finger through throaty whimpers.

He paused abruptly. "Use your words."

You snapped your half-hooded eyes to him. "It feels good… really go-" the word died in your mouth as he began pumping into you once again.

He unclasped your fingers from around his cock. "I know you're eager, but if you keep touching it like that I won't last…"

You were sticking out your lower lip in a silent plea, but decided to bring your precum-soaked hand to your breasts, letting the warm liquid drip onto your nipples, earning an approving growl from Miguel.

"Do you think you can take a second one?" he asked, bending over to swipe his tongue across one nipple. "You set the pace."

The sight of him tasting himself on you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced, and you immediately nodded, just so you could feel his tongue again.

Suddenly, you felt a second digit probing at your entrance, and you couldn't keep your chest from heaving rapidly at the stretch.

Miguel shifted closer to you, catching your eyes in his. "Relax, cariño… you're doing great."

You tried. You really did try to stop your walls from tightening around his fingers, but your body was moving involuntarily at the sudden intrusion.

He placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. "Nearly there…"

A raspy whimper parted your lips and you allowed yourself to relax ever so slightly, until he was buried as deep as he could.

The discomfort of the stretch turned into impatience, and you rolled your hips, seeking more and more friction.

"More…" you mumbled desperately.

Your eyes dropped to the mesmerising motion of both fingers sliding in and out, glistening with your wetness, as your swollen clit peeked from between your folds.

Wet sounds filled your ears and your head fell back once his palm pressed against your clit. Miguel immediately took advantage of this angle, and had his lips on your neck, sacking gently.

The familiar coil in your lower abdomen warned you that you were nearing the point of no return. The delicious friction mixed with his thick fingers fucking you at a steady pace.

"You're so close…"

You bit down on your lip so hard you feared drawing blood. At this point, you didn't trust yourself to utter any words, and chose to lose yourself in the blissful moment.

Miguel took your hand in his and had your fingers wrap around his cock once again with a hiss. He was so thick and hard and warm and leaking so for you.

"Let me fuck your hand…" he growled into your neck, snapping his hips. "Just… squeeze harder…"

You eagerly gripped him tighter, feeling strings of precum sliding down your wrists as he matched his hips with the tempo of his fingers inside you.

"Miguel… Miguel…" you managed to moan as you neared the precipice.

His lips were on yours all of a sudden, and you crumbled under his touch, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue found yours.

You were so close.

So deliciously close.

"You’re doing so good," he praised you over and over again.

Your back arched reflexively as the blissful turbulence of an orgasm began to wash over you.

And then, it was gone.

Your peak never came and your moans immediately died in your throat.

Confusion took a violent hold on you, as you slumped into the pillow and mattress underneath you.

Miguel had removed himself from you entirely, and you were left clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his touch.

"Miguel…why?!" you protested, as you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

You dropped your hand from his cock to grip the sheets, hoping to rein in your frustration in between sobs.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding truthfully. "I want you to come around my cock, cariño…" he added, before kissing your quivering lips.

You wanted to be mad at him for denying you of your pleasure, but he managed to gain a nod from you instead. 

The mattress dipped around you and even through closed eyes, you could tell he was positioned right between your legs.

He then brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. You felt slightly taken aback, not expecting him to do this.

"You taste really good."

You laughed nervously. "I do?"

His lips tugged upwards. "Don't take my word for it, then."

He brought two glistening digits to your lips and you immediately took them in, savouring yourself on him.

You sucked on him for a moment, enjoying how he looked so smitten by it.

He pressed your tongue flat with his fingers, before sliding out, saliva dangling from the tips.

"You're so hot."

That compliment threw you for a loop, and you immediately looked away, not quite feeling like you deserved it.

He cradled your face with his hands. "Look at me."

Slowly, but surely, your eyes met his as you tried to even out your laboured breaths. 

"You are. You are beautiful."

Your heart clenched and you were left speechless at how genuine he sounded.

You felt like you could cry from this. You didn't cry easily, but his words always found a way to tug at your heartstrings like no one had ever managed to. 

He craned his neck to press a soft kiss to your wet lips, and you felt his cock resting against your throbbing clit.

"Are you sure of this?"

"I am. Please, Miguel…"

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm not going to last long," he whispered softly. "But neither are you."

The jab at your stolen orgasm had you pouting at him.

He groaned in response. "Try to relax as much as you can, okay?"

You swallowed hard with a determined nod. "Okay."

You felt his cock slide along your soaked folds, grazing your clit, before you felt a small pressure at your opening.

Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain and discomfort.

But Miguel kept his hold on your face with one hand. "Please look at me…" 

You took a deep breath and mustered the strength to stare into his crimson eyes. 

"I've got you," he promised, brushing his knuckles across your heated cheek.

And you believe him.

Even when you felt the tip being pushed slowly into you, your breath caught. Your gaze faltered and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp. You felt his other hand press flat against your thighs, and you spread your legs as much as possible, hoping it would be enough to ease him in.

"Breathe…"

You slowly let out a shaky breath, realising he had stopped.

"Are you okay?"

No.

You wanted to be, but you could feel yourself tense up and you brought your hands to claw at his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin flex as he adjusted himself.

But you still nodded. You wanted to be done with this. First times can be tricky, but you would have to keep your fear of pain at bay until the worst had come and come.

He pushed his hips into you again, and the stretch had you holding your breath again, as a sharp sting tore through your entire body.

You didn't dare breathe.

Your chest became so tight it ached, and you felt the familiar tension in your eyes, as the first tears began to blur your vision.

"Stop… please…" you begged, tapping on his back.

He immediately halted, his face softening. "Do you want me to pull out?"

You shook your head, the motion causing one tear to slide down from the corner of your eye. He captured it with his lips, a silent reassurance that he would take care of you.

Deep down, you feared he might be turned off by your hesitancy. You were sure he wanted to go deeper and faster, but the discomfort was gripping you hard.

"How much…" you sobbed, staring down at the length of your body to find where the two of you were connected. "... is it almost there?"

Miguel smiled warmly at you. "Nearly there, sweet girl."

Your lungs expanded with a deep inhale and you sighed through your nose. "Go…"

You dug your nails into his skin as he slid deeper inside, drawing a sharp gasp from you. This time, you had to bite down on your lip again, feeling Miguel's unwavering stare on your face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. Not now. Not when you were so close to being filled to the brim with him. No amount of pain or discomfort would take that away from you now.

He was being so gentle and caring, assuring that you were the priority here. 

And you wanted this to be on equal grounds, soon.

His pleasure would be yours.

Your pleasure would be his.

He was kissing every single tear away, whispering praises, and you knew he was fully buried inside, once he stopped moving again.

This time, you felt him shudder under your touch, breath coming out in shallow pants.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and shaky.

"Yes."

You would be soon. 

The pain hadn't been as bad as you had expected and once you began to relax, you could feel the remnants of it slowly fading.

The two of you remained still for a few more seconds, with only the erratic breathing keeping you company.  

"I'm not going to last long," he confessed, burying his face in the curve of your neck. "Can you relax a bit more?"

You tried to drain the tension from your muscles, and you immediately felt his cock twitching inside you.

He was so deep...

"Please move," you asked, ready for what was to come.

Miguel inhaled sharply, and you felt him drag it out slowly, earning a few pained whimpers from how thick he was.

Before you could take a deep breath, he slammed slowly into you.

Your clit was swelling up again and you knew he had bottomed out again when you felt his balls press into you.

But you needed more. You needed to feel more.

"Can you go faster…"

He dragged his fangs along your shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Please…" you begged.

Miguel set a slow pace at first, and you heard the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him, which had him groan with each thrust.

Your gaze was on how his cock reappeared only to disappear back inside you, visibly struggling to move past your tightness. 

"So good… fuck…así… no pares," you heard him mumble mindlessly each time he pushed all the way back into you.

You managed to snake one hand in between your bodies, and you immediately gasped as the tips of your fingers slid past your clit only to finally touch his slippery cock.

His pace quickened slightly, and he removed your hand with his, pressing down on your pulsing clit.

"Just… just like that…" you whimpered breathlessly.

You arched into him, your pierced nipples digging into his chest, and he suddenly stilled.

"I need you to come first," he rasped, drawing circles around your clit. "Please… please…"

There was something incredibly riveting about having Miguel O'Hara begging. Such a strong and serious man, was now on top of you, completely taken by how you milked his cock, and how close he was

His thumb left your clit, and he pulled his torso away from you and moved back, pressing your legs together with both hands and pushing your knees into your chest.

The new position nearly pushed you over the edge, as your walls pressed further around his cock. His thumb was on your clit in an instant, and you moaned and whimpered, gripping the sheets with both hands, holding on for dear life, as he skilfully brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me… clench around me, cariño," he urged desperately.

You heard the sound of fabric tear as your grip tightened around the bedsheets, plunging you into a blinding orgasm. Your vision blurred and you arched your back, feeling rhythmic contractions ripple across your walls, gripping his cock hard.

As your chest heaved rapidly with a rush of adrenaline, you felt him slam into you only twice before reaching his own peak.

"Mierda, te sientes tan bien… carajo," he mumbled in between groans, as he buried himself as deep as possible, finally spilling himself inside.

Even through the numbness of your orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you with a burst of warmth.

Beads of sweat poured from your skin, and you felt completely spent by the time he finally slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips once he was fully out, and your walls involuntarily clenched.

You felt him slide his cock along your folds a few times, the added  friction on your oversensitive clit making your jolt.

He released his hold on your legs, and you let them flop down, feeling something beginning to seep out of you.

"Wait here," he said as he slid out of bed and pressing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips. 

You remained still for a few seconds, before curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to slide your band in between your legs. 

A warm liquid began to coat your fingers and you propped yourself on one elbow, watching in awe as your clit and folds were covered in his cum.

You dragged a small quantity from your entrance and brought it to your lips, eager to finally taste it.

Its saltiness and warmth invaded your mouth and collected it with your tongue, slowly swallowing all of it. 

"Does it taste good?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you found Miguel standing next to you, fully naked. He was a complete marvel of muscle and beauty, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as his burning gaze bore into you.

He had a towel in his hand, and slowly kneeled on the floor, tapping his finger to your jaw to have you fully face him.

Miguel was so very handsome. It was almost criminal. Sweat-damp strands of thick hair covered his forehead and you brought your free hand to brush some of them aside.

"Does it taste good, cariño?"

You smiled innocently, removing your fingers from your mouth. "You can taste it yourself."

Miguel's lips met yours and his tongue slipped past them hungrily. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pushed some of his cum with your tongue into his.

He eventually broke the kiss and you felt the soft fabric of the towel being softly pressed to your forehead.

Some drops of cum coated his gorgeous lips and you found yourself unable to look away from his face.

"Let me take care of you."

Affection and devotion.

You nodded as exhaustion slowly weighed down your body. 

His lips curled into a faint smile and you mimicked him. "What?"

"You're so… perfect," he drawled out, sliding the towel down the side of your face and neck.

You giggled. "Is this a post-sex thing?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking very serious all of a sudden. "You're doubting me?"

Your smile faded slowly. "Oh, I just… I… don't think I'm perfect. No one is."

Miguel pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to your breasts as he continued to pat the sweat away.

"You are to me," he mumbled.

You had heard so much about love over the years, and thought Tom had been the personification of it in your life. Even after what had happened between you two, you never doubted he was the one who had gotten away.

But now?

You weren't so sure anymore.

And it wasn't because Miguel was so easy to offer you compliments and praises. That was easy to do. It was much harder to be stricter with those one cared about, and Miguel didn't hold back from grounding you when you needed the most. 

After all, he managed to get a hold of your heart with the way he took care of you.

Just like he was doing so now.

He reached in between your legs, and you jolted from the surprise.

"Was I too rough?" he asked, uncertainty dripping from his low voice.

You shook your head. "You were perfect."

His crimson eyes met yours and you smiled warmly, allowing him to clean the cum mixed with your own wetness. 

"You said no one is perfect."

"I'll make an exception for you," you said, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, and your vision darkened as your breathing steadied. You faintly felt more cum drip out, which Miguel quickly wiped, and vaguely wondered how much was still left inside you.

But your thoughts were cut off by your drowsiness, feeling exhausted and as you lay limp on the mattress.

You were almost dozing off when you heard his voice. "Want to take a shower?"

A grumble left your throat. "Later… I'm so tired."

"I'll carry you."

For the second time that night, Miguel took you in his arms with little to no effort, and sauntered into his bathroom, occasionally pressing loving kisses to your face.

You had looped your arms around his neck for support and groaned lightly as he stepped into the shower, tepid water hitting your skin gently.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, yes…" you said, fighting through a yawn and landing on your feet and easing your hold around him.

Miguel silently washed your back witj both hands, and you were able to feel more cum drip from inside you, blending in with the running water.

You pressed your forehead to the tile as he moved the wet piece of cloth in between your legs, and you flinched away.

"Did I hurt you?"

"It's just a bit sore…" you breathed out, reaching down to touch your numb clit. "It's fine… don't worry."

You then turned around to face him and tip-toed to place a wet kiss to his jaw.

Adoration didn't even begin to cover how you felt about this man.

Maybe he would be your first 'I love you'.

Maybe.

- 2 months later -

Miguel shot his laser-like string of web to the side wall of glass that led to his apartment. 

The window was open, and he smiled to himself.

You were home.

He flung himself upwards, the opening presenting itself as the perfect entryway, and he swung through it, landing gracefully on the tiled floor. 

His digital mask vanished, and he ran a hand through unruly hair.

Immediately, his senses were hit with the familiar smell of freshly cooked empanadas, and he immediately smiled as you entered the kitchen, specks of flour resting on your cheeks.

"Hey, you," you greeted sweetly.

"Hey."

He closed the gap between you two in an instant, taking your face in his hands.

"Are these empanadas all for myself?"

Your eyes fell to his lips. "Depends."

He dusted off some of the flour with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. "On what?"

"Payment."

"Oh, really?"

You hummed, bringing your lips so close to his, he could feel your breath fanning them lightly.

"What sort of payment, sweet girl?"

He could almost taste you, and his heart jolted in his chest. 

It seemed that he was doomed to having your presence have this permanent effect on him. No matter how much time passed, he could not get accustomed to the hold you had on him 

"One kiss."

He quickly complied, tasting your sweetness.

You were quick to break the kiss, however. "And… promise you won't be upset."

At this, he felt a faint scowl settle on his face. "What did you do?"

The reply to his question came in the form of Peter B. Parker waltzing into the kitchen, with an empanada stuffed in his mouth.

He waved and tried to speak, but his voice only came out muffled and intelligible.

Miguel's scowl deepened and he glared at you, earning an innocent shrug.

"Peter and MJ are visiting, and I thought it would be nice to invite them over," you said endearingly, offering him a napkin.

Peter beamed. "Thank you! And Miguel… not a surprise to see you here," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.

MJ walked in with Mayday clinging to her shoulder. "Hey, Miguel!"

He inwary winced, already anticipating an upcoming headache. In all honesty, he just wanted to spend some time with you after arriving from a mission, and now…

"MJ," he greeted flatly, before patting Mayday on the head, her curls bouncing lightly.

She stuck out her tongue in response before breaking into laughter.

"He's not even using doors anymore, Peter," MJ started with a devious smile. "It's serious."

Peter nodded, taking Mayday into his hands. "Definitely serious."

Miguel's scowl deepened further and he watched as you laughed nervously.

The two of you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. Miguel would rather keep it that way.

Why?

Because this was the result, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Oh, wipe that frown off your face, Miguel O'Hara," MJ scolded. "Everyone knows about you two, already."

"What?"

Peter quickly brought Mayday to him. "Here, hold her. It will calm you down!"

Miguel reflexively took her in his arms, but kept his gaze on MJ. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, joining your side, as you began to clean off the counter. "All the missions together… always coming in together… spending time at the lab," she continued, listing off everything with each finger. "Peter and Jessica told me all about it."

Anger flared inside him briefly, but it quickly plummeted as defeat took over.

"Just a coincidence."

MJ shrugged. "Sure."

Mayday sat on his shoulder, tugging gently at a few strands of his hair, giggling. He winced in pain and removed her from him in an instant, holding her far away from him.

You turned to him and moved to grab her from his grip, pressing her adoringly against your chest. "Don't worry, Mayday. He's just a little bit grumpy, but he's a cutie, too!"

His scowl softened at the sight of Mayday melting into your touch.

You really were a natural at this...

"You're the cutest, though," you whispered in her ear, and she immediately gave you an ear-to-ear grin.

MJ was glaring intensely at him with a knowing smile, and he cleared his throat.

The last thing he needed was them realising how he yearned to be a father, with you carrying his children.

"You're so good with Mayday," Peter praised, stealing another empanada from the plate, and earning a death glare from Miguel who considered hiding them away. "Imagine Mayday and Jessica's kid having another friend to play with!"

Your eyes widened lightly. "Oh! I… I think…"

Miguel wanted to catapult Peter through the window, but he wouldn't do so in front of his wife and child. He always found a way to be inconvenient, and even though Miguel agreed with him on this, he couldn't let it show.

Out of spite.

MJ motioned for him to cut it off, and the two of them walked out, leaving a babbling MJ with you.

You chuckled. "They're good fun, right?"

No.

But he wouldn't dispute that with you, because this was what you did. You adored making people around you feel included and your love language definitely spoke louder.

As you rocked Mayday against your chest, lulling her into a peaceful silence. 

"Actually, I have something for you," you whispered with a smile.

Miguel's brow quirked again. "Please don't tell me Hobie Brown is about to burst through the ceiling."

His remark caused you to stifle a giggle. "No, but he might pop up later today."

Miguel's face hardened again.

"I'm kidding, Mr. Grumpy," you said, pointing to an envelope on the table. "Open it."

He glared suspiciously at you before shifting his attention to the piece of paper. Once he unsealed it, he peered closely at what was inside.

A small plastic rod.

His eyes widened and his lips parted.

That was…

"Yeah. I had my implant removed," you said, standing close to him. "The spider-doctor told me to wait out for my next cycle, but…" You began rubbing Mayday's back as she dozed off with a yawn. "Pregnancy can happen earlier than that if we try…"

Miguel was too perplexed to say anything.

You were indeed aware of his breeding kink, and he would gladly give you as much time as you needed. Even if you ended up deciding not wanting to have children, he would be more than fine with that decision.

He was too in love with you to push you beyond your comfort zone.

And yet… here you were, willingly fulfilling his wishes.

"Say something," you said, nudging his arm with yours.

He swallowed, finally meeting your eyes. "You didn't have to…"

You nodded. "But I want to, Miguel. And I know you want it, too."

There was no denying it. The past few months had been torturous at times. Each time he fucked you raw and spilled inside you, knowing fully well nothing would come of it. Witnessing his seed going to waste would torment him.

He pressed his hand to your head and pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Te amo."

You lifted your head to stare at him. "I love you, too."

- A couple of weeks later -

Miguel stormed into the lab later that afternoon, needing a refill of his serum.

But he didn't expect to see you still there, sitting on a chair, and tapping at the screen in front of you.

"What happened?"

Your head turned and he was met with tired eyes. "Oh, I was wondering if you could draw some blood."

Alarm bells chimed inside his head right away and he was quickly in front of you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"I'm okay, Miguel," you assured him with a faint curl of your lips. "Just want to check something."

You sounded off.

So he quickly gathered what he needed to comply with your request, always eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

He came to sit next to you and motioned his fingers so you'd lay out your arm for him.

"Did something happen?" he pressed again, pulling the sleeve of your lab coat upwards.

You shook your head, gaze dropping to his hands. 

He wasn't convinced in the slightest, but decided to give you some space, offering a respectful silence.

Hi fingers tapped your skin, tied a latex glove just above your elbow as a tournique, seeking a bulging vein. 

"It's funny…" you said with a sigh. 

Miguel lifted his eyes briefly, finding yours staring right back at him. "What is?"

The faintest tug at the corner of your lips had him relax slightly. 

"The first time I met you… you also drew my blood for testing," you said, and your tone told him you held the memory of it fondly. "And now, here we are again."

"Under different circumstances, I'm sure."

"Better ones."

He was unsure of what you meant by that, so he dropped his eyes to your arm again. Once he found what he was looking for, he punctured the soft barrier of skin, watching as the vial in between his fingers filled with liquid.

As he withdrew from you and pressed a pad to the wound, a weird feeling began to loom over him.

Could it be that...

He eyed you curiously, hoping for you to confirm his suspicions, but you remained silent.

"Apply some pressure," he asked, and you nodded, your fingers replacing his.

Scooting over to the analysis machine, he placed the vial inside and watched the liquid being sucked inside.

"Why do you need your blood tested?"

You shrugged, but he could sense you were holding something back.

By the time the first results began to appear on the hovering screen, he scanned them, looking for an outlier. 

It didn't take long for it to show up.

Miguel's heart lurched as the confirmation hit him, and he checked it twice, but there was no mistake.

< hCG (mIU/ml) - 145 >

The human chorionic gonadotropin was colloquially referred to as the pregnancy hormone, and its level could inform how far along a pregnancy was. 

This value had Miguel guess you were around three weeks. 

"Why didn’t you tell me right away?" he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He felt you looping your arm around his, resting your head on it. "I figured it would be more romantic than peeing on a stick and showing it to you," you chuckled softly.

In all honesty, he wouldn't care either way. 

How could he?

In front of him was the proof that the bond he shared with you was now bearing fruit.

"... besides… this is your field, right? Genetics," you said, tightening your grip around him. "It felt right for you to find out this way."

Miguel felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, upon realising just how you never missed anything. Down to the last detail. Everything you did always held a purpose, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.

"I…"

You shifted until you were in front of him, and quickly laced your arms around his waist, placing your chin on his broad chest, eyeing him with absolute adoration. "Come on, Miguel… don't tell me you're surprised it happened so quickly."

He truly wasn't.

He had bred you over and over again over the past few weeks, always making sure you would lay still after each time, a pillow under you, not allowing any cum from going to waste.

You had protested at first, but he excelled at providing after care, and those sessions soon turned into opportunities at exploring your intimacy to the point you were eager to be filled over and over again.

His sweet girl…

"I think I love you," he blurted out, immediately realising how ridiculous he sounded. 

Your chuckle reverberated across his skin. "You think? I hope you're more sure than that. There's no turning back now."

His arms circled you, pulling you into a tighter embrace as his gaze met yours. "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Everything."

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has been with this story from beginning to end. It means a lot. I hope you were able to connect with these characters in one way or another 🩷 I will be missing Miguel and sweet girl so much... this story wouldn't be anything without your vital support, and I will forever be grateful! Ruby~

Masterlist

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

[astuteology]

PLACEMENTS THAT MAKES SOMEONE UNABLE TO MOVE ON🤡

⚠️ This may or may not resonate with you. All of the observations below are what i have seen many many times, reoccurring.

Edit: so people are getting confused about these placements. Is it coming from the planet or the house?

I'll clear it up for you all. See what sign are they in for example; Sun in aries is exalted while sun in libra is debilitated. Mercury in 3rd house is strong while mercury in 12th is weak.

~

Sun in someone's 5th house: rejection from them can take a big toll on your mental health, which can make you obsessive and unable to stop thinking about them.

Edit: if the sun is debilitated, it's coming from the sun person. If the 5th house consists of more than 2 aspects or planets, its the 5th house. In this case, sun is the core personality right.. if the sun is weak, it creates insecurities and egoistic nature. So if the 5th house person rejects the sun in any way, since sun is the owner of the 5th house, the sun goes crazy. Now if the 5th house is weak, let's say you have mars, saturn, uranus or pluto in the 5th natal, then you are likely to go crazy for the sun.

Venus in someone's 5th house: kinda same as the above but this placement makes someone come back again and again hoping for a different answer this time around. This placement can turn creepy pretty quickly.

Edit: venus feels very warm and good in both 5th and the 7th, also in the 12th if the sign and the placement are strong without any affliction. If one has Scorpio or aries venus, and the 5th house rejects them in any way, venus here goes insane.

Venus in conjunction with someone else's ascendant: this can make the either party be in denial about the breakup or the rejection. They tend to become stalkers and stalk every inch of the other person's social media. Even follow them home. Pretty scary if it's unrequited.

Edit: venus loves to be friends with ascendant in astrology. Venus being afflicted, let's say it's in Scorpio sign or it's in retrograde or it's making a close relationship with Saturn or mars, venus here goes kooky. If the ascendant person is insecure, let's say it has pluto, a weak lilith or neptune, the ascendant goes nutty. And if both the parties have this... scary.

Mars in the 12th and venus in the 8th: again, if the person is insecure, this can and will turn pretty nasty. They will blackmail you. May even post your private pictures online without you knowing or kidnap you. They can not deal with the break up or the rejection. Something about you rejecting them in any way triggers Something in them that makes them want to put you in your place (the 'place' is upto them).

Edit: mars is not friendly with the 12th and venus is not comfortable in the 8th. Afflictions on either side, creates this dynamics.

Venus in someone's 12th house: yes it can mean unrequited love BUT this can make a person became very depressed after getting rejected or after going through a breakup. In worst case scenario, the person can emotional or physically blackmail you, even threaten you.

Edit: venus feels nice and good in the 12th, since venus prefers giving unconditional love and support. But if one has weak venus (retrograde, martian plutonian venus, etc) venus gets empty here, and it hates being emptied. Same goes for the 12th, let's say you have Capricorn there, or you're 7th or 5th lord is in the 12th. In both the cases of venus and 12th house, the things i mentioned above, happens.

Mars in someone's 8th house: literally the worst of the worst. If either party already had a very low self esteem before meeting the other person, after that person goes away, this can make them come after you and hunt you down. Physical abuse is very much possible. There's no 'moving on' here.

Edit: mars DOES NOT like to stay hidden and in secrecy. So it disturbs the 8th house. The more afflictions here, the more mars becomes psychotic here.

Sun in the 8th house: they keep on coming back omg. They don't understand the word "no". For them, "no" means keep trying. Even if you say you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, they still think they have a chance. They are deaf, they can't hear no.

Edit: sun hates the 8th house when it comes to love and relationships. So if sun is afflicted and it feels uncomfortable in the 8th, or if venus is the lord of 8th or have libra or taurus in the 8th, the 8th house feels kind of seen here and it doesn't like that, because sun and venus are enemies. One likes to stay hidden, other wants to dig deep.

Moon in the 8th; they will try to bring you down in front of people. The types to make fun of your personal conditions just because they think it's gonna make you appear weak. It's just embarrassing and pathetic. You trusted that person with your personal things and this is what they give you just because their fucking brain can't handle the rejection. Moon in the 9th; bad mouthing. Will probably spread false rumors about you and will try so fucking hard to make people believe them, now if the other people already had something against you, they will believe them. Moon in the 1st and the 12th; will appear all good and nice in front of you, until one day you'll hear someone ask you about your personal life, which will get you thinking.. "how do they know?".... well... now you know who tf told them. They will tell your secrets to everyone they meet and turn the person against you.

Edit: moon hates 6th, 8th and the 12th house. Moon is a strong energy and it prefers to stay inside. You know the emotions you show, you rather feel it inside than show it to the world because yk how people can be. If moon or the house gets afflicted, let's say moon is in conjunction with Saturn or any of the above mentioned houses have north or the south nodes, they create toxic energies that i mentioned above.

Mars conjunct ascendant or mars making heavy aspects with the ascendant: although gentle and light, but this has the power to annoy you to your core. This aspect boosts the energy of the either party in the company of the other one which makes them dependent on the other gradually. Now if you have avoidant attachment style, I have a bad news for you.

Edit: see mars loves to be the leader and loves 1st house as well but without any grounding aspects, it gets out of control. Abuse happens here too, whether its verbal or physical. Depends upon the aspects and the planets here.

Mars venus conjunction and square: only GREAT when two sided, a "traumatic scene" when one sided. Now what do I mean by that? You see... we want to touch the person we feel a spark with, right? And if both party feels it, it's an electrifying thunderstorm that takes you to the deepest of the oceans and highest of the clouds. Now if the attraction is one sided... when you DO NOT want the attention, the help, the whatever from that person and here they fucking come again and again in front of your face. They are going to do disgustinggg things (don't even get me started on this).

Edit: mars and venus, masculinity and femininity, yin and yang, it's natural for them to be attracted to each other. Any change in the planets, takes away that attraction.

Mercury or neptune square ascendant or sun: Omg this is fucking annoying. The PERSON that you REJECTED because you DO NOT want to do ANYTHING with THEM and you POLITELY said NO but THEY DONT UNDERSTAND THAT SO THEY KEEP SOLVING THIS LIKE IT'S SOME KIND OF AN EQUATION UNTIL THEY GET THE ANSWER RIGHT. LHS=RHS. They keep on digging deep. They're gonna ask your friends, your family, anyone associated with you about your whereabouts, you number, you address because they don't think there is a valid reason that you rejected them. Now if you HATE when someone continously tries to butt into your life... I am sorry. Good luck with that anger cause they won't be hearing "no" anytime soon.

Edit: mercury is a curious planet, neptune is the planet of illusion, sun is the core personality and ascendant is the physical body of the soul. Square means there's a friction, and the solution is compromise. Now everyone is different, with strong moral authority and strong personality, so one may not want the connection, and the other is desperately after them. If mercury doesn't want to build a connection with sun or ascendant, the sun/asc goes mad, it kinda hurts the ego. If neptune doesn't want to get involved, the sun/asc creates their own perception of the neptune, since it's an illusion. If ascendant/sun does not want a bond with either mercury or neptune, both mercury and neptune tries to dig deep into it. Both can't accept. Both want to know why. It's gonna be hard for any of these placements of see the reality. Saturn NEEDS to be with either of them.

There are more, but this is it for now. Thank you!🤍

Edit: i'm genuinely so sorry for any confusion you had. Hope i cleared it!

[blackpilljesus]

I saw this from the female separatism subreddit & the responses are some of the biggest reasons for separatism et al (or extinction if I'm being candid here). Moids cant be reformed they are fully aware of the hell they force women to live in. MaIe achievement & happiness is rooted in female exploitation & life. Their glory days are based on our horrific days. No amount of love, kindness or facts will change maIes and we cannot happily or even neutrally coexist with them.

Main points across answers:

Many want to experiment but not permanently be women

They dont want to be in constant danger or lose their autonomy at the hands of maIes for merely existing

They dont want to deal with childbirth (& periods)

They dont want to have to share spaces with species much stronger than them with ulterior motives

It makes me go crazy seeing people give moids benefit of doubt for their evil like "maIes just dont understand", "we need to teach maIes", or claiming that maIe violence is a result of maIes struggling with (expressing) their feelings. I get that women love maIes and it can be hard to imagine that people can intentionally be so evil but it is what it is. MaIes have no problems expressing themselves, abusing women is what maIes choose to do because they enjoy & benefit from it - that is their expression.

MaIes see the same news of women being abused, raped, and killed like we do except rather than be disheartened or alarmed they're either apathetic or satisfied. It isn't aliens that's committing GBV it's maIes & maIes have no problem reminding women of this when women anger them (such as rape threats & threatening women they'll end up on the news/true crime). The victim blaming, denial, and derailment of misogyny is part of the game to keep the system alive, they know the events occured & are a systemic occurence they just dont care. Hell not only do they not care, they rejoice in it or get off on it.

MaIes set up environments that work in their favour which simultaneously ensures that women will lose. They know women are set up to live in damn near impossible conditions for us. It's normalised for women to defenselessly share personal & private spaces with beings much more stronger than them with ulterior motives for us, it's trap. It's interesting how these moids aren't saying that they'll just cover up and *poof* harrassment gone, or they'll just pick a nice guy & they'll be okay. MaIes know the net negative they are towards women.

MaIes know that childbirth is a painful process & what do they do? Demand it happens and make it even MORE painful for women. MaIes that impregnate women do not love or care for them. Pregnancy itself is dangerous & sometimes lethal, often comes with a range of health issues, to cause someone to be in that condition especially in a environment where abortions are illegal is reckless & unloving. Now imagine how sinister & full of hatred one has to be to impregnate someone and abuse them on top of that. Many women risk their health & lives to reproduce with a Y and they get abused by said Y instead of being taken care of. Deranged.

Realising that maIes are aware of the evil they inflict is one of the things that radicalised me. It isn't a miscommunication or ignorance issue, their violence is intended. They want control. The cruelty is the point. Instead of wasting time & energy trying to change maIes or hope that they "understand" one day, focus on yourself & other women (who prioritise women). Moids aren't oblivious to female pain they enjoy it. A lot of women treat maIe evil like it's a mistake on maIes part but it's calculated terrorism. I know that this will go over many womens heads as they refuse to hold strong negative sentiments about moids as a collective so if you're not a woman like that, take this post as a sanity check. You aren't crazy, it isn't all in your head.

[the-world-of-nai]

pick a sign; a message you need to hear right now✧.*

pile 1 -> pile 2 pile 3 -> pile 4

I RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THE SONG OF YOUR PILE BECAUSE THEY ARE REALLY SPOT ON THIS TIME AROUND!!

pile one

you have a strong energy. some of you could be in a situationship/friends w benefits, or entering one soon. you are someone who takes pride in their appearance. you could also be popular or have some level of fame. if that is not the current case, then it is coming in the near future. it's advised that you have more fun in life. dream more, think bigger, and have more fun. i see that you may have some mental fog right now because you overthink things quite a bit. you may feel like you are not smart, or do not make smart decisions. i advise you to get rid of this insecurity. go out and party with your friends. focus on your healing. focus on the dreams and hopes you had as a child. they will guide you.

zodiac: aquarius, leo

song: basics - twice

pile two

you are in a stable, self-focused energy. i see you have been building up your wealth. either your investments have paid off and you are now rich, or that is coming in the near future. it is advised that you do not make any sudden decisions at this time. resist the urge to be impulsive. take plenty of time to rest, relax, recharge and better understand your own emotions. emotional stability is highlighted here. i see this pile has been working on themselves. money is coming in like crazy. and what's more is a twin flame relationship. if you are already with someone, i see this person could be the one. if you are single, get ready for someone coming in very soon. continue to stay in this emotionally mature, self-nurturing energy and you will attract great things in your life!

zodiac: pisces, gemini

song: radio - lana del rey

pile three

wow.. the energy of this pile is heartbreaking. i am sorry for whatever it is that you are going through. i see some of you could be going through a breakup, conflict with loved ones, etc. lots of conflict here. i am seeing something about divorce, so some of you may be divorced or your parents have just been divorced. i see that you may be depressed, extremely sad and heartbroken. if that is the case, i am so sorry. you may be feeling stuck in life and like you do not know how to move forward. spirit is saying that the troubles in your life stem from those around you. they are causing you grief and anxiety. it is advised that you direct all of your energy into yourself, your career and creative hobbies. take advantage of this loneliness by becoming the person you always dreamed of being. keep the faith, keep your head held high. it may help you to delve deeper into spirituality at this time. this is just a bad chapter, things WILL get better so DO NOT GIVE UP!

zodiac: taurus, pisces, aquarius, leo

song: epiphany - bts

pile four

you may be in denial of something in your life right now. i see that you are the type of person who will lie to yourself about your current situation so that you can avoid making the necessary changes. you are either in a toxic relationship, or you are a toxic individual. toxic individual can mean many things, but in this case i am getting that you exhibit self destructive and toxic behaviors, yet you do not change them. you may lie to other people often, you may smoke a lot or sleep around a lot too. you could be this way because of a significant relationship in your life that came to an end. you may be the type of person who enjoys conflict in relationships because that is normal to you. it is advised that you address these patterns and heal them if you want to be truly happy in this lifetime.

zodiac: capricorn, taurus, gemini, libra, aquarius

song: love foolish - twice

[ultimateloserboy]

Bill Cipher Analysis Post ‼️

(I could be wrong about some things since the book is fresh, feel free to expand this post or correct me! May be a little edited as well!)

To start things off: William Mischief Cipher, (yes thats his actual name) is a dream demon from another dimension. To be specific, the second dimension.

Despite Bill being a literal shape— and also a demigod— it’s implied that Bill had a human-like childhood. He had a normal mother and father, he went to school, and overall seemed to have a normal life. The problem, however, was that he was born with powers completely unknown to his dimension.

Bills world was 2D, meaning there was no up or down. It’s hard for us to grasp the concept of his world, and its implied Bills dimension felt the same way about us. They couldn’t grasp the idea of other, less flat dimensions— but Bill could. Not only did he understand the concept, he could physically SEE the other dimensions— which drove him crazy with confusion and frustration.

It’s also implied that Bill was born with physical powers others in his dimension didn’t have— for example, there’s a line in the book where he remembers being bullied in school for having the ability to conjure fire.

It’s implied that Bill tried to tell everyone about the other dimensions, but they didn’t understand. The other people of his homeworld considered him troubled and insane. There’s a poem written in code on the silly straw page of his book detailing how he was fed medicine to keep his “visions” away, but would only drink it out of a silly straw. This poem implies he was a baby at the time of taking his medicine, implying further that his powers were terrifyingly strong even from an early age. This— paired with the fact he could shoot fire from his fuckin hands— made him dangerous as a child, because (at least from what it seems) any childish outburst or tantrum could accidentally turn dangerous from his lack of understanding or being able to control the powers he was born with. He was a walking time bomb.

“Eye doctor of a different kind who wants to make his patient blind / The doctor says three sips a day will make the visions go away / Fussy eater, baby billy, wouldn’t drink unless its silly.”

(((The doctor was taking away Bills ability to see the other dimensions, rendering him somewhat blind. Bill fussed about his medicine as a child and would only drink it out of a silly straw.)))

Eventually, Bill tried to bring his world into the third dimension— or at the very least, show them it exists to prove that he wasn’t insane. It’s unclear what exactly he did to try and accomplish this— but it went wrong and started a terrible fire that left only him alive.

It’s unclear whether or not he started the fire itself on purpose or on accident, but either way its implied that he absolutely didn’t understand the permanent consequences. It’s something that deeply traumatized him. It’s blurred out of his memory, and in denial, he pretends everyone is still alive. It’s up to the reader to determine whether or not he can be forgiven for this, but out of everything Bill has done on purpose and out of malice, this doesn’t seem to be one of those things. It seems he genuinely wanted to free his family from the confinements of his dimension and to this day he still pretends that’s what he did, even if that’s not the case. The regret of his actions is something that goes on to shape his character today.

“Twisted out of shape after the kill— the ghost of his family haunting him still” (((Silly straw page)))

Bill has lied about this day on multiple occasions, and has also lied about how he feels towards it. He’s terrified to face the guilt— so he either pretends he did it on purpose and doesn’t care, pretends something or someone else did it, or pretends it didn’t happen all together.

While talking to Stanford, he calls himself a monster. This is what he truly thinks of himself. However, he pretends to be a different person than himself. His entire life past the day of his dimensions burning has been a lie of pure denial.

On top of denial, he refused and still refuses to grow up. After running off into a crumbling dimension with his “henchmaniac” friends, he started acting like a rebellious teenager. Unlike most villains with a specific intent to hurt, he went throughout the universe with the sole intention of having as much fun as possible. However, with his terrifying power and uncaring nature many casualties happened on the side. He’s guilty for them, and even finds some of them funny, but hurting people wasn’t and isn’t his MAIN intent. (At least not most of the time. He IS known to hold grudges, or dismantle someone’s face for fun, but those things aren’t part of his overall goal. Not saying they aren’t shitty, but his main intent is important to understanding his character and complexity.)

His main goal is to distract himself from his past with as much chaos as possible while also seeking attention from anyone he can get it from. He talks about Stanford and says he needs Bill to boost his ego, but really it’s the other way around. Bill considers himself a product to sell, he caters to people by using false charisma, pretending they’re the ones that need him when in reality he’s starving for their praise. He is desperate for someone to speak highly of him because his mind has nothing good to say, all the words he says out loud are compensation. He believes deep down that nobody will love him if they know who he truly is and what he’s done— and he’s not really wrong. And look! He couldn’t even admit that’s how he feels about himself so he pretends he’s giving advice! (He does this SO MANY fuckin times in the book..)

It appears in the book that the more he regrets or suffers from his past actions and traumas— the more he hurts and destroys the things and people around him as a distraction— all under the ruse of “partying”. So, in an immature attempt to absolve himself of guilt, he stacks more guilt onto his endless cycle by continuing to hurt those he loves again and again— pretending not to care but truthfully caring so much that he’d do ANYTHING to drown out the feeling. Ironically, his way of drowning out his feelings is by causing more harm. He is an endless, pitiful paradox.

It’s often misunderstood that he is a uncaring, but that’s what he WANTS you to think. That’s what he WISHES he was. His guilt and remorse doesn’t absolve him from the things he’s done, but the fact that it’s there is a GIANT and IMPORTANT part of his character. He CAN feel empathy, sympathy, sentimentality, and ESPECIALLY regret. He may be a considered a sociopath, but this doesn’t mean he’s not a person with feelings as well.

He’s so distraught over losing Stanford that he drinks himself into a state of temporary amnesia that made him fall into a ptsd episode— his memory is so bad he ends up thinking he’s talking to his mother who’s been dead for probably millions of years.

This doesn’t excuse what he did to Ford AT ALL (I felt a little sick looking at the knuckles page..) but you can’t truly understand his character without understanding that he is LYING when he is cruel to Ford. And no, just because it’s a lie/front doesn’t mean he’s absolved from saying or doing something horrible, but it DOES mean he is unique and complex.

It’s perfectly reasonable to not forgive Bill for what he did to Ford, because it’s not really forgivable— but I also think it’s fair to explore the complexities of “evil” characters. SAYING A CHARACTER REGRETS THEIR ACTIONS DOESN’T MEAN I THINK THEY DESERVE FORGIVENESS!!! Especially in Bill’s case, considering that he PRETENDS to not be sorry, which makes him terrible even if he doesn’t mean what he’s saying. He might as well not be sorry at all HOWEVER!! It’s still important to distinguish him from a sociopathic stereotype— so I have to acknowledge that he’s a little sorry anyway, even if that regret is hidden away and doesn’t help literally anyone.

He values his own comfortability over the people he loves. Meaning he’ll always be cruel instead of apologizing because even if he’s truly sorry, he can’t handle the fact that he did something wrong in the first place— He’ll just play dumb.

At the end of the day, though— Bill is much more complicated than “Guy that just wants to explode people with his mind and take over the world”— I mean yes, he’s also that— but he also has hella bad ptsd and possible other mental issues that I’m not qualified to diagnose. He has a mother who he misses and a pain he carries with him.

None of the pain he harbors will ever justify the pain he’s caused— So no, I don’t think he’s ACTUALLY forgivable (though I may joke). However, in my opinion, I do think he’s redeemable! He’s going to live (or at least be in purgatory?) for millions of more years. He already got a punishment of literal death and has the empathy (somewhere) to continue forward and start fresh. He has thousands of years to heal from his trauma and wallow in what he’s done.

The Pines family may never forgive him, but out of the child-cartoony love in their hearts they offer him not forgiveness— but live and let live. (Well, at least Mabel does.. love you sweet girl.) If he goes around them they’ll beat his ass like in weirdmaggedon, but if he stays away, they will too. At the end of the day, he’s been stopped and they’re happy. If he is alive, (((or is going to be??))) he might as well heal.

And, well.. even if you think he doesn’t deserve that somewhat happy(?) ending, a redemption arc for him has been hinted at for years. Sorry, man. Respect to you and all but like… friendship is magic and the evil demigod is gonna start working at your local wendys once he’s outa space arkham. It’s just the way kids shows go, man.

(((Edited note: I apologize for my original wording when it came to “sociopath”— I wasn’t aware of its actual medical use and I should’ve done my research on that! I’ve changed this post to be more accurate in that regard, so if old reblogs look different it’s because they’re the original version.)))

[wandasaura]

BENEATH THE SUN

summary — with your back beneath the harsh summer sun, natasha had you right where she wanted you; on your knees, taking only what she thought you deserved

warning(s) — dom/sub dynamics, strap-on usage, face fucking, deep-throating, slight exibitionism, hair pulling, makeshift ponytails, slightest allusions to pet play (just the name puppy), gagging, daddy kink, praise kink, degrading, face slapping, mild choking, slight cockwarming if you squint, orgasm delay/denial, mentions of butt plugs, multiple organs, overstimulation, subspace, mommy kink, dry humping, finger sucking, oral fixation, aftercare, natasha being hot and sweaty, men/minors dni

authors note — for @oceaseaa who so desperately wants more strap-on fics, you can thank her for this

Natasha’s thighs were meticulously toned beneath your gentle hands, firm and defined by muscles that glimmered beneath the sheen of perspiration that created a sparkling layer across the expanse of her uncovered skin. The gleam of sunlight that fell across her bottom-less frame allowed her olive-toned skin to become alight with intimate delicacy, and your mouth wandered the depths of her deep maroon shaft, wide eyes maintaining intense connection with hers that creased and twitched with addictive pleasure. The taste of her arousal coated the strap-on secured around her waist by soft cotton strips, hours of pent up excitement having led to this simple moment, but release was still far from her mind as strong hands made a make-shift ponytail out of your tousled hair and pulled you closer to her groin, the rounded tip of your nose that she so frequently peppered with soft kisses brushing against her bikini line for only a second before she relented, allowing you to pull away and gasp for breath that came out hoarse and jagged. 

Her afternoon workout had seen an abrupt end when you slipped out into the backyard in the skimpiest bikini you owned; one that neither Wanda nor Natasha had known even existed in your wardrobe. The vibrant colors did wonders for your skin, and beneath the harsh glow of mid-day sunlight you’d been irresistible. To Natasha’s benefit, she’d chosen that morning to play a little game with you while Wanda was at the gallery, meticulously planning yet another showcase that would be open to the public in only a few days, but her plans had been derailed the minute you crept behind her with soft touches, trailing your fingers across her shoulder blades, tracing every inch of muscle and soft skin tantalizingly. The strap hadn’t been all that hidden, not with how tightly the black athleisure shorts fit her waist, however you’d gasped in startled shock when she flipped your position easily, maneuvering you onto your knees before you could fully fit the image of her plan together. You’d moved since then, taking up residence by the pool, grown accustomed to concrete digging into your bare knees and beams of sunlight burning tanlines into your skin. but still there had been no ounce of sweet release for either of you. There wouldn’t be until Natasha was ready to end her deliciously evil game. 

You gagged, drool pooling at the corners of your lips when she thrust upwards into your mouth, your tongue warm against the underside of her strap, your breath hot as it came through your nose and fanned against her exposed skin. Your hands braced themselves on her hips now, attempting to put distance between your bodies, but her grip on your hair didn’t falter for a second, drawing you in closer, reminding you of your place beneath her. A choked cry fell off of your lips when she held you down firmly this time, the length of her favored strap deep within your throat, so deep that the faintest bulge was visible and unable to help herself, Natasha relinquished her grip on your hair, one hand cupping your cheek, while the other traveled down to your throat, squeezing just tightly enough to feel your muscles contracting beneath her touch, trying desperately to avoid gagging anymore than you already had. You’d be sore tomorrow, but for now, the pain was blissfully pleasurable. 

“So pretty with my strap deep in your little mouth.” She mused softly beneath the delicate glow of daylight; the first time she’d spoken to you since earlier that morning when she’d asked if you wanted a taste of her coffee, a new creamer swirled into the caffeinated beverage that admittedly made it more pleasurable to drink, although you still wouldn’t jump at the chance to have one of your own, stealing sips of hers was more than enough. “Is this all I needed to do to shut you up? Just needed to get you on your knees for me, puppy?” She laughed tauntingly, and your eyes pinched shut when the hand laid softly against your cheek became tellingly firm. Within seconds the blow you anticipated arrived, sparking hot pleasure against your skin that traveled down to your untouched core, only spiraling that coil deep within your belly even tighter. 

Desperately you ground your hips against nothing, tears spilling down your cheeks as you blubbered and writhed within Natasha’s cruel grip. She laughed menacingly, a faux gleam of sympathy twinging her features, which only made you cry harder. Her hands returned to your hair, pulling you off her strap entirely this time, allowing you the faintest second of total relief before she was dragging the strap against your lips, its sodden entity drenched in a tempting concoction of saliva, tears, and sweet arousal. She slapped it against your open lips teasingly, laughing at the wet sounds that filled the air and mixed with your whines and cries of desperation. There would be no relief in your future, but you remained unaware of that as you shifted against jagged concrete warm from the kiss of sunlight, wincing at the sting that nipped at your knees and shins achingly.  

“The only thing that would make this better is if that little ass was filled with a pretty plug. Tell me puppy, did you think to put one in before you came waltzing out here like a little slut?” Natasha cooed, a stark contrast to the cruelty that laced her prior actions. A soft pout adorned your lips at the mention of your plug collection upstairs, and you shifted on the concrete as you felt that twinge of emptiness in your puckered hole. It wasn’t often you played this way without one deep within you, pressing at your walls and creating a desperate ache in your core, but now it was void, a reminder of how you failed to prepare if Wanda or Natasha weren’t there to talk you through the motions, to bend you over, lather your ass with lube and talk you through the initial sting of metal stretching you open. You were so incomplete without them, so dumb and eager. You needed them, and they knew it. “Thought you could be a big girl, huh? You thought you didn’t need your Daddy telling you what to do? Guiding you through it? How stupid. Look at you now, puppy. On your knees, at my mercy, covered in drool and tears. Don’t worry, you’ll be okay, you just have to make me cum first.” 

A soft whine fell into the air as you dared to lean forward on your own accord, your tongue poking out from between abused pink lips, tracing a tender line against the strap that filled your cunt so addictively well, and yet hadn’t even prodded against it since being freed from the confines of Natasha’s athleisure shorts. From the shaft to the tip, you caressed the toy with your tongue, hoping that it would soothe the cruel anger building in Natasha’s belly, but it only drove her further to the brink of harshness, and without warning, she pried your lips open with a harsh grip on your cheeks and forced her length into your mouth again, this time not wasting time with soft teasing and languish thursting. She fucked your throat with power, slamming her hips upward until she could feel the base of the strap pressing into her clit with a delicious power. She’d been prolonging the inevitable. She’d been holding out on her own release in favor of driving you mad, but her patience had snapped, and no longer was she interested in the long game she’d set out to play. 

Low curses and desperate groans fell off of her lips as she forced your head down, pushing deeper and deeper into your throat until that coil felt taut enough to snap at a harsh gust of wind. “So fucking desperate, sucking me off where anyone can see. You’re my little whore, aren’t you puppy? My little whore to use whenever I please?” You could only moan around her strap,  the vibrations not doing much to spur on her pleasure, but the simple sight of you so drunk on her was enough to send her over the edge, the arousal that coated the strap previously welcoming a new moisture as her walls fluttered around nothing and her pebbled bud of delicate nerves ground harder into the base of the toy that was kept in place by thin straps sodden with sweat. “Fuck.” She groaned, throwing her head back as her grip loosened, an orgasm tearing through her core as her hips bucked wildly. “Good baby, so good for me.” 

You whined at the gentle praise, slowly pulling your mouth away from the strap, lifting it up with shaking hands to get a glimpse at her sodden cunt, puffy and red from hours of foreplay that had her mind whirling with desperation. Your tongue, sore and abused, swept through her folds tenderly, collecting wetness that coated your tongue with a heavenly thickness. You hadn’t noticed that the sliding doors had opened again, hadn’t noticed that Natasha’s hands fought tirelessly to pull you away from her oversensitive core, too distracted by the pleasure of finally having control over your movements as you sought to rip another orgasm from Natasha, your brain a jumbled mess of desperation to bring her nothing but world shattering pleasure. 

Desperately your hips ground against nothing, your clit pulsating against the fabric of your skimpy bikini that was sodden with arousal that would remain untouched until the next day when Wanda took you earnestly on the kitchen counter. Your fingers slipped into Natasha easily, and the woman didn’t have the energy to protest anymore, dropping her hands at her sides as she relinquished to the pleasure you ripped from her body. Only when you attempted to pull another, a third, from her overtired body, did you realize that at some point, Wanda had returned home. 

“Hey, hey. That’s enough, malyshka. That’s enough.” Her voice was soft, albeit firm as it fell over top of you beneath the sharp beams of sunlight that had twinged your back a delicious shade of pink. Her hands covered in layers of paint pulled you back into her chest, her body sinking into the concrete as she collected you into her arms, able to see the daze of submission from across the backyard without even meeting your eye. “Give Daddy a break, baby. Daddy needs a break. You did so good, so good, my angel. Was Daddy a little too rough with you, hm? Did she break that pretty little brain? So desperate to please, so eager to be good. You’re just my little baby, aren’t you? You’re good, so good, but you need to give Daddy a break.” 

You melted into Wanda’s chest, soft gaze shifting from Natasha who laid on the lounge chair heaving for breath, over to Wanda who smiled softly down at you with emerald eyes that glimmered with affection like a million tiny rhinestones. Your eyes were glazed over, sparkling beneath the sunshine, and softly, you pulled her hand between your legs, a whine filling the air as you ground against her fingers, your core sticky and hot beneath bikini bottoms. She tutted regretfully, although she wasn’t really sorry, and pulled her hand back, allowing her moisture-sodden fingers to gleam beneath daylight before she brought them to your lips. “No baby, no cumming today.” She hummed, well aware of what Natasha’s intentions had been, even if your impatience had derailed the majority of her plans. You were truly stupid if you thought that Natasha hadn’t filled her in on her game plan for the day the second she had constructed it over breakfast, but with your brain a melted puddle of submission, Wanda didn’t fault your eagerness. 

A cry fell into the air as you kicked your legs petulantly, looking up at your Mommy with a desperate gleam in your eyes, her fingers still caught between your lips as you sucked them clean of the ropey evidence of your arousal. “None of that. You were such a good girl, so good. Why don’t we get you both inside, hm? Get some aloe on your back, clean up those pretty little knees, get some tea for your throat, hm? How about you let Mommy take care of you?” 

“Mommy.” You mumbled softly, nuzzling into her neck, taking in the lingering scent of her perfume that had become mixed with the odor of paint. 

“Yeah, Mommy’s here, malyshka. Mommy’s right here.” She cooed, softly pulling her fingers out of your mouth, needing them back if she was ever going to get you inside and away from the sun that had scorched tan lines into your skin. She eased your whines of protest with a chaste kiss that effectively distracted you from the loss of weight against your tongue. Somewhere between Wanda pulling you away from Natasha’s sensitive core and the tender kiss that melted your brain further, Natasha had caught her breath and come back to herself, and with a tender brush against your cheek alerting you of another presence, she leaned down to kiss you too the second Wanda pulled away. 

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you inside. Mommy will make you her special tea, and I’ll put some aloe on your back, hm?” She didn’t give you any room to protest, softly guiding you to your feet and leading you inside with a wordless display of her dominance. You followed along willingly, marveling at the sight of her simple beauty, much to her amusement. 

She loved this softer side of you, adorned that she could be the one to provoke it, and even though your throat was going to hurt like a bitch tomorrow, for right now, everything was perfectly okay.

[wittlesissyb4by]

Babydoll

He thought it was what he wanted, he really did. Ever since Christian was little, he enjoyed playing with dolls. Not so much because he liked to do what girls do–well, he did–but more that he wanted to be the doll. They got to wear pretty dresses and have their long blonde hair put into bows, their cutesy shoes switched out, and they got to be pampered and adored by someone else.

Speaking of pampered, Christian seemed to always gravitate towards the dolls that needed diapers. The ones that would squirt fake wets and messes so he could change them. He remembered begging his Mother for those toys.

His Mother knew that Christian would most likely not grow up to be a very strong, masculine boy. She knew her son was not like the others, he’d taken far too much interest in all things feminine, but she also never saw anything wrong with that. She would oblige him if he asked her to paint his nails, or put make-up on him, or make his hair curly. She thought it would be a phase, something he’d grow out of when he got to high school.

But college came and went and Christian was still living in her basement. She could hear him at night, making loud, pathetic mewling sounds. Watching god knows what on the internet and doing god knows what to himself. She found countless diapers in the trashcan that Christian did a pisspoor job of hiding. When a bra or panty set went missing, she knew the first place to look was in Christian’s room tucked into the back of his closet. She never said anything, though. She let her boy partake in his little fantasies and work himself raw. She’d change his sheets that only had a hint of piss soaked into them, as if most of it ended up somewhere else and this was only what leaked out when a certain item had reached capacity.

Christian had spent most of his life jerking off to sissy and abdl and feminization porn. He’d watched countless hypnos that made his brain rot, he even put his own penis in a cage sometimes and learned to cum like a ‘gurl’. But all of that was only when he was in the throes of hornydom. He’d dream of being a pretty little doll for someone, to get put in diapers and dresses and makeup and be ‘forced’ to live life as a little sissy bimbo. This, obviously, didn’t do much for the ladies, so he never had a true girlfriend.

So one day, Christian decided after 5 days of depriving himself of orgasms, that he was finally going to come out to his Mom. He was going to tell her about how he’s a sissy, how he likes to wear diapers, and be treated like a baby. He was tired of keeping all of this shoved down and tucked away for so long.

It felt so freeing to finally tell her. To let her know everything about what her son was secretly doing. But, apparently, it wasn’t much of a surprise at all. She hardly blinked an eye, and instead just smiled like a mother patiently waiting for her child to correctly solve what 6+8 is, and congratulating him for finally getting it.

“So you want me to treat you like a little sissy baby?” she asked, clarifying.

“Well, no…” he said. Or, at least, that’s what he wanted to say. Instead, he was awestruck by the idea, by the possibilities. He could finally get what he wanted! He could have someone treat him like the sissy baby gurl he’d always wanted to be! “Yes!” He said for real, “Very much yes!!”

His mother only laughed. “Are you sure that’s what you want? I mean, when will it stop? How long do you want to do this?”

“Forever.” He said, a single word sealing his fate. If he knew what he knew now, he would have never uttered that word.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Okay…maybe he shouldn’t have said that one either.

So started Christian’s journey into sissy depravity. His mother pulled out all the stops, showing no mercy. Like a stern parent raising her child once more, she kept him in line using discipline, time outs, and a new one most mothers can’t use: chastity denial.

She watched as her son slowly transformed into a babbling, drooly mess. She wasn’t sure if it was the hypnosis she’d been making him watch, or all the childish TV shows. He wasn’t allowed to play his video games any more, something he threw quite the little tantrum over. Instead, he was given blocks and rattles and (if he was good) some of his favorite dollies. She didn’t have to cook much, Gerber took care of all his meals. She’d shovel pureed prunes and peas into his mouth and wipe up the contents to shove back in. She didn’t think she’d ever be changing Christian’s poopy diapers again, yet here she was.

But after only a few short months, she started to notice even more of a change in him. He became more reclusive, more whiny, more tearful.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” she asked, drying Christian’s eyes with his food splattered bib.

“I on’t wanna be uh baby anymore!” he cried.

But his Mother showed no sympathy. “Awww!! Well that’s too bad, hunny! This is what you wanted! Remember? You wanted this to be forever.”

Christian looked up at her with his little doe eyes, like he knew he’d made a grave mistake.

“I guess this is as good a time as ever to tell you…” Mother said, clearing her throat, “I’ve arranged for you to have a little…procedure.”

“Puceedur?” Christian could hardly get the words out, his brain was so numb.

“Yes honey. You know those little princess parts between your legs?” 

He looked confused.

“The ones inside your pampers.”

That seemed to make sense to him, anything involving diapers was easy to get his head around.

“Well you see honey, this procedure, this operation is going to take those away!”

His eyes went wide, but he still looked hazy. Like he could only slightly understand the gravity of the situation. It took several more seconds to finally sink in.

“B-b-but…I on’t wanna lose my princess parts!!”

His mother just shrugged, arms crossed. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that, dear. You wanted this, and I’m just supporting you.”

She pulled a bottle from the bag, shaking it with her finger over the nipple, then brought that nipple to Christian’s lips.

“Drink up, honey!” she said softly, “This has all the ingredients to help you become the wittle baby gurl you’ve always dreamed of being!!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was a custom caption for one of my lovely followers on Substar! If you'd like one of your very own, simply subscribe to Silver or higher tiers!

[skzms]

*⑅୨୧* sharing is caring

꒰ა♡໒꒱ chapter 5 ꒰ა♡໒꒱

lee know x f!reader x kim seungmin can be read separately! previous parts are only referred to, and somewhat explained! (though I recommend the rest of the series hehe it's been a journey)

summary: you had fucked them all, seungmin realizes. all of them. well, all of them except him. why not him?

word count: 6.2k

warnings: voyeurism & exhibitionism; unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it & pee after sex, guys); oral(m receiving); fingering (m receiving); edging/orgasm denial; some tears; some degradation; puppy as a nickname (but no pet play); sub!seungmin, dom!reader and dom!minho; seungmin is touch-starved and self-conscious and swears a lot

author’s note: part 5!!! we did it folks!! though, spoiler alert, there will be a bonus chapter for this one 😏 I love me some dom!seungmin but I wanted to do something different. so have touch-starved sub!seungmin. also no drama in this one!!! I know some of you may have wanted more, but honestly, this one was always planned to just be a smut part, and the series doesn't really have an end, so I hope you forgive me 🫣

this may be the last official part BUT I am still thinking about doing a few smaller bonus instalments so stick around!! I'm not ready to let go of this series yet either. but either way, i wanted to say thank you so much for all your support! I never thought so many people would love this horny little series but here we are. to anyone who has reblogged, left a comment, sent an ask - I love you dearly and I hope you stick around on my blog. okay, enough blabla, on with the smut!!!

series masterlist // skzms' general masterlist 🔖 taglist closed! this was the last chapter. if you're not on the taglist and want to see future instalments, follow me @skzms

It took Seungmin a while to realise what had been going on. But when he did, he felt red-hot shame burn through him because how had he not noticed?

For some reason, he didn’t think to question it, that one day when you were sitting on the kitchen counter while Minho was cooking. Hyunjin had casually stepped in between your legs, bringing a mixing spoon of cookie dough to your lips for you to taste. He didn’t question it either when Hyunjin turned around while still between your legs and brought the same spoon close to Jisung’s lips, teasing him by pulling it back just enough to make him chase it.

He found it a little odd, that one day when you were play fighting with Changbin, and he effortlessly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, his hands splayed over the back of your thighs. But he didn’t question that either, thinking you two must’ve just gotten closer.

He had also noticed Minho’s hands lingering on Felix’s waist more than they usually did, Felix’s coy little smiles ramping up, even more so when both you and Minho were in the room. But he didn’t think about it too much, not even when Jisung and Felix suddenly seemed a lot less shy about cuddling.

The one person he should’ve known was out of the ordinary was Chan. Alarm bless should’ve gone off in his head when he so effortlessly rested his hands on your hips to push past you in the crowded kitchen. Or when you arrived at the studio, and he shifted you past his strong chest with both of his hands on you, straight into Jisung’s waiting arms, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

No, it took him until tonight, a night of casual drinks and movies at the dorm, when they were teasing Jeongin about being the baby of the group, and you scratched the back of Jeongin’s head with a coy smile, and made a snide remark about how he was not as innocent as he seemed. The way Jeongin leaned into your touch, leaning closer to you with a lazy smirk, the way he licked his lips as his eyes flickered down to yours – and the only reaction in the room was dog whistling. Not shock or confusion, not even stares from Minho and Jisung – no, they were watching the exchange with smirks of their own.

Seungmin wanted to sink into the earth and disappear.

It had been happening right in front of his eyes. You had fucked them all. Maybe even you, Minho and Jisung had fucked them all together.

Everyone … except him.

Something twisted deep in his gut and his heart started thumping in his ears. He didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the sleep deprivation, but his chest felt like it was about to cave in. He stood up abruptly and fled to the kitchen, ignoring Felix softly calling his name from behind him.

He pushes the door open and tries to take a deep breath, pacing up and down while his mind goes a hundred miles a minute.

All of them. All of them. Chan? Why would Chan do something like that, does he even understand how easily this could backfire on the group? And Jeongin? He had never seen him so confidently flirting with anyone. The way he had looked at you made heat curl in the pit of Seungmin’s stomach. Did you fuck Changbin, too? Did he touch you everywhere? And sweet Felix?

Steps approach the kitchen, and he leans against the counter, chest still rising and falling unevenly. He fixes his eyes on the floor when he hears the door open.

Fuck, who did they fuck? Did Minho … A shudder runs down his spine. Did Minho sink himself into any of his members? Touch them with his stupidly veiny arms, wind his hand around …

He’s distracted by your face popping into the edge of his vision, all furrowed brows and big eyes.

“Minnie?” you ask sweetly and he blinks. What did you call Hyunjin when you sat on his cock?

He hesitatingly makes eye contact with you as you peer at him uncertainly. God, you’re so fucking pretty, he’s not even surprised they all wanted to fuck you. It’s not like he’s never thought about it, especially since that one time he’d walked in on you blowing Minho in the shower. The two of you hadn’t even seen him, but he saw you. Heard Minho’s raspy moans bouncing off the tiles. Saw the water dripping down Minho’s chiselled chest, into the smattering of pubic hair, where you were kneeling, manicured nails digging into his thick thighs, your back sloping beautifully, rivulets of water running down from your hair. And your ass, all round and soft and delicious … .

Suddenly, you’re touching his arm in what he’s sure is meant to be a reassuring gesture, but he can feel the pressure of your fingers, and he feels like he’s about to explode. His head jerks up, trying to put some distance between your plush lips and his own face, but it’s then that he realises that Minho is standing right next to him, his chest almost touching Seungmin’s other arm.

“Hey,” you murmur, and his eyes focus back on you haphazardly. “Is everything okay?”

The shame burns deep in his chest, but he can’t not ask.

“Did you fuck them?” His voice is hoarse, and he sounds a lot more broken than he means to. Goddammit.

He sees you throw Minho an uncertain look.

“W-who?”

Seungmin scoffs.

“All of them. Did you fuck all of them?” he asks, his voice now a little more stable, at least. Good, he doesn’t need to make even more of a fool of himself in front of you.

You’re quiet for a second. He feels Minho place a calming hand on his shoulder. His entire body shudders, he no longer knows why.

“It was all consensual,” you say quietly, uncertainty in your voice. “Nobody’s feelings are getting hurt, or anything.”

“You even fucked Jeongin?” He asks incredulously, and your eyes widen. A smile steals over your lips, and he wants you to smile that way when you think about fucking him-

Wait, what.

“Yeah, that was just me, though.”

White-hot something, right down Seungmin’s spine.

“Oh, of course,” he says bitterly, lips curling up, “and the others, you all fucked?”

Minho finally speaks next to him, and his voice reverberates through Seungmin’s entire body.

“Hey,” he murmurs, and Seungmin’s head snaps over embarrassingly fast, “we didn’t do this to make you uncomfortable. It has nothing to do with you, we just had consensual sex with members who were interested.”

Seungmin’s eyebrows furrowed in upset.

“It has everything to do with me, if you fuck everyone except me!”

Minho fixes him with a stare that makes his belly do a flip.

“Seungmin, we promise you, it doesn’t …”

“Why don’t you want to fuck me?

…

Fuck, he did not just say that. The silence is deafening, the sound of someone laughing in the living room painfully loud. It feels like they’re laughing at him.

“What?” you breathe out, and Seungmin’s head feels like it’s about to explode. Maybe he can fix this.

“Like, it’s fine! I guess, I just … is there something wrong with me? I know I don’t look like Hyunjin, but … why don’t you want me?”

That is not fixing things, that is grovelling. Pathetic grovelling. He wants to slap himself. But then Minho purrs out his name, and it makes a shiver rack down Seungmin’s spine.

“Seungminnie, we didn’t think you’d want us.”

Seungmin’s brain comes to a grinding halt. Huh?

“Huh?” he repeats, this time out loud, and Minho chuckles next to him.

“Every time you walk in on any of us making out you make the most disgusted face,” he says with a smile in his voice, “and you’re not exactly known for being horny, like Felix or Jeongin. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk about sex.”

“Is that why you knew you could approach Felix?” Seungmin asks quietly, but he can’t help but look at you and Minho curiously.

“Felix came to us actually,” you chime in, “quite boldly at that.”

“Huh,” Seungmin says again and cringes, “what about the others?”

You shrug.

“Hyunjin and I was a spur of the moment thing, Hyunjin told Jeongin about said spur of the moment thing, Chan and Changbin happened to catch me and Jisung screwing in the studio, …”

You trail off a little awkwardly, but Seungmin just nods. How did he miss all of that? He thought he was perceptive. He doesn’t know what else to say, so he just stays quiet.

“It just hasn’t come up with you, and you’ve never shown any indication of wanting anything like that,” Minho says gently, “especially not with us.”

Seungmin’s head snaps back to him, and this time he doesn’t even hide the bewilderment in his face.

“What do you mean? Have you looked at yourselves?” he scoffs out, blushing slightly when Minho’s eyes widen, “How could I not want you.”

The air shifts when his eyes meet yours, and you lick your lips, your gaze slowly tracing across his features as you take a step closer. So close, Seungmin can smell your perfume now, and he wants to bury his nose in your neck and inhale it from the source.

“What exactly do you want, Minnie?” your voice is velvety, and he feels a fire kindling in his abdomen when you say his name like that.

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. What does he want? And even if he knew, how could he ever just ask for it like that?

Minho’s hand squeezes his shoulder, and Seungmin leans into it slightly.

“Do you want Y/N?” he asks with a small, knowing smile.

Seungmin just nods dumbly as he looks at you, all big eyes and glossy lips and soft skin. Of course, he does. You smile at him and allow one of your fingers to trace over his arm.

“Do you want … me?” Minho asks, even more gently, and Seungmin looks back at him, back up at him somehow, Minho towering over him even though Seungmin is technically the taller one.

Seungmin doesn’t need to think about the answer to that question, but he does have to remind himself that he can say it. You two had fucked the others. There’s no judgement. Minho wants this, too. Probably. Hopefully.

Minho opens his mouth as if to say something, but Seungmin interrupts him hastily.

“Fuck, yes,” he stammers out and looks back up at Minho with wide, embarrassed eyes, “I … want you, too.”

But it’s worth it, to see Minho’s eyes change. There’s fire now where there wasn’t before, and Seungmin has never felt so entirely seen. He thinks his knees might buckle.

“Okay,” Minho says with a smile, “that’s good to know because we both want you, too.”

Seungmin thinks his heart might give out. Minho is so nonchalant about it.

“The next question is: How you want to do this? Do you want to be in control? Or should we take the reins on this? Consensually, of course,” Minho asks, his voice still smooth and unbothered.

Seungmin just blinks at him dumbly.

“I don’t … I wouldn’t know how to …”

Minho just nods and hums.

“Let us take charge then, we have experience with that.”

Seungmin’s pretty sure he’s getting hard just from listening to Minho talk like that. But then your soft fingertips are on his jaw, and you turn him back to you, and he wonders when on earth you got this close, close enough to feel your breath on his face, to hear the twinkle of your earrings. Suddenly, Minho leans into his ear and Seungmin gasps.

“I have an idea of what you might like, puppy,” Minho whispers, and Seungmin makes an altogether ridiculous sound. It makes Minho chuckle in his ear.

“Bingo,” he mumbles, letting his hot breath ghost over Seungmin’s ear.

“You’re evil,” Seungmin chokes out, eyes still locked with yours as you pull yourself close to him and grind your hips over his. He’s definitely getting hard now.

“Aw, is Minho being mean to the little pup? Too good at reading you? Knowing exactly what you need?” you tease and Seungmin’s whole face starts burning, though the shame only makes him harder, and his hips bump yours, rolling his growing erection into your abdomen.

“Fuck you,” he groans out as his eyes slip shut with a tiny moan. He feels your giggle against his lips and Minho’s against his ear, and he briefly wonders if this is how Jisung feels every day. But all thoughts of Jisung get wiped from his head when your lips brush his.

“We’re trying,” you whisper before you finally kiss him, and it’s unlike everything he’s ever experienced. Granted, he didn’t exactly have a ton of experience, and Minho wasn’t wrong when he said Seungmin wasn’t known for being overly sexual, but Minho didn’t know of the aching want that lived in his chest, the want to be touched and tasted and completely taken apart (or be the one doing the taking apart, Seungmin wasn’t picky). Your lips, your hands, they feel like a balm on that burning ache.

And yet, he’s hesitant, almost afraid that you will pull back and leave him high and dry, laugh at him for ever thinking he could be the one you want. He wouldn’t survive that, no, not when your lips are the sweetest thing he has ever tasted.

As if he can read his mind, Minho wraps his arm around Seungmin’s waist, places a chaste kiss right under his ear and whispers a barely perceptible, “let go.”

The shudder that races down his spine allows you to push your tongue into his mouth, and something in Seungmin cracks open. He groans, hands racing up your body until he’s cradling your face, pulling you closer and closer. Minho breathes out a quiet fuck next to him and though Seungmin barely dares to believe it, it sounds like approval.

He only pulls back when his lungs are burning, and he wonders if he looks even a fraction as pretty as you do with your swollen lips and wide eyes. He’s still panting when Minho’s palm slides up to his face, turns his face to him, and crashes his own lips to his.

Minho’s lips are harsher, his plump top lip brushing over his in a way that makes him dizzy, his tongue licking into his mouth from the beginning, taking exactly what he wants from Seungmin and Seungmin loves every second of it. He’s so lost in Minho’s kiss, he doesn’t notice your hand sneaking down between your bodies until you start palming him. The sudden friction feels so good, he can’t help his jaw falling slack as a strangled moan tumbles from his lips. Minho pulls back with a chuckle.

When Seungmin’s eyes finally come back into focus, he sees you grin at him wickedly as you rub him harder, and he bucks into your palm. Minho is watching you intently, fingers digging into Seungmin’s waist.

“Can we … can we go to my room before fuck before someone walks in?” Seungmin pants out, and you laugh again before you grab his hand and drag him down the hallway, Minho right behind him, his hands already tugging Seungmin’s shirt out of his pants, brushing his fingertips over Seungmin’s bare skin.

As soon as the door closes behind the three of you, Seungmin is trapped between your soft body in front of him and Minho’s hard body behind him, and he swears he’s in heaven. Minho’s hands are pushing under his shirt, running all over his burning skin as he pushes the fabric up and your hands are tugging at his waistband. It’s so much, to be touched like this, and his head is buzzing so loud that he can’t do much of anything except throw his head back and gasp. But you and Minho don’t seem to care as you undress him, Minho ripping the shirt over his head at the same time as his belt buckle clinks open under your insistent fingers. Minho’s teeth sink into his shoulder as you shove down his pants, and his hand shoots to tangle into Minho’s hair, trying to pull him closer and closer.

But then you sink to your knees and Seungmin whimpers out pathetically. You laugh out melodically from where you’re perched in front of him.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” you chuckle, running your hands up and down Seungmin’s naked thighs, watching in fascination as goosebumps break out all over his skin. “Has it been that long since someone touched you?”

Seungmin feels a wave of embarrassment rushing through him at your words. He nods tentatively, his hands coming to cover his now burning face.

“Hey,” Minho purrs into his ear, and Seungmin almost jumps. Don’t be mean, don’t be mean, don’t be mean, I can’t take it, not about this he chants in his head, “it’s hard meeting people with our job, I get it.” Oh, thank God. He bites back a relieved whimper.

You hum in approval as you pull Seungmin’s briefs down. He’s rock hard and leaking, and he hisses when the cold air hits him. It’s like he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his skin as you drag your palm up the bottom of his length. This moan he can’t hold back, body shivering in Minho’s arms.

“Oh, you’re a big boy,” you say coquettishly, and Seungmin nearly passes out. How can you just say these filthy things so casually?

But then your lips wrap around his cock and slowly, torturously so, take him into your mouth. His knees would’ve buckled, if it weren’t for Minho’s strong hands on his hips. You bob your head and let your tongue swirl around him, and he moans out pathetically.

“Shh, puppy,” Minho murmurs into his ear, hands slowly caressing his torso. “Let her take care of you.”

You don’t take him all the way into your mouth, not even particularly deeply, instead focusing on swirling your tongue around him, licking over his head and his slit – but his legs are already trembling.

“I think you should look down, Seungminnie,” Minho murmurs, “you’re missing out on a real sight.”

Seungmin swallows and blinks his eyes open, taking a steadying breath before looking down. And thank God he did because the view of you, so pretty with your lips stretched around his cock, makes his knees weak. The image sears itself into his brain, and he knows it’ll be making him cum for the next weeks, no months.

Seungmin can feel Minho let out a heavy breath behind him, and one of Minho’s hands detaches itself from Seungmin’s hips to come to the back of your head. Minho runs his fingers through your hair lovingly, your eyes locking with his over Seungmin’s shoulder, before he grips you and gently guides you up and down on Seungmin’s cock.

It’s too much, and Seungmin’s head lolls back onto Minho’s shoulder again. The pace Minho sets makes heat pool in his abdomen at an alarming rate. The heat is all consuming, all his pent-up need churning in his abdomen, desperate moans tumbling from his lips.

“I … Fuck, I’ll …”

When he’s about to tip over the edge, Minho lets you pull back.

Seungmin’s throbbing cock falls, hanging between his legs all wet and angry, and the release his body so desperately needed crumbles and vanishes.

“Fuckshitfuckfuckfuckwhatthefuck,” Seungmin whines out. There’s a guttural desperation in his voice as he curses and curses, his body feeling like a live wire.

Minho presses a hot kiss to his neck, and gently shushes him again.

“You can’t cum already, silly puppy,” he chuckles into his ear and Seungmin’s brain goes a little fuzzy with the degrading nickname, “we’ve only just started playing.”

Both of his hands are back on Seungmin’s body now, running over his hot skin. When he brushes his thumb against his nipple, Seungmin hiccups out another quiet fuck.

You get up off the floor and come to stand in front of him again.

“Dirty mouth,” you say as you lean in. But Seungmin’s head is still resting against Minho’s shoulder, eyes half shut as he tries to catch his breath. Your eyebrows furrow and you exchange a look with Minho.

“What’s this? I suck your dick so well you nearly cum in five minutes, but I don’t even get a kiss?” you scold and Seungmin’s head shoots up, staring at you with wide eyes. He shakes his head frantically.

“That’s no way to treat your mistress, puppy,” Minho agrees from behind him, and Seungmin whimpers, desperately trying to lean forward to connect his lips to yours.

“No, no, no, ‘m sorry, I didn’t realise,” Seungmin stammers out, his eyes racing all over your face, until they get caught in yours, so big and deep he feels like he’s getting lost in them.

“Please,” he breathes out, and you finally lean in and let him connect his lips to yours. He kisses you eagerly, desperately, intent on making up for his mistake. All of his hesitancy from earlier has gone out the window, his large hands winding around your waist and pulling you closer before one slips under your shirt and runs all over your soft skin. He wants more, more, more, he feels insatiable.

“Can I …?” he mutters against your lips as he plays with the hem of your shirt and as soon as you nod, he pulls the fabric up and over your head. He tugs you closer until his naked chest is pressed to yours, and he hums happily as he reconnects his lips to yours. He hears fabric rustling behind him, and then he feels Minho’s skin on his back, and he keens out at the feeling.

“Touch-starved little puppy,” Minho murmurs and turns him around by his hips. Seungmin just nods, pulling Minho into his lips by his jaw greedily, Seungmin’s tongue now then one that slips into Minho’s mouth and makes the latter moan dirtily. Seungmin’s cock brushes against Minho’s clothed hip, and he wants to weep. His hands race to Minho’s belt, but Minho stops him, grasping both his wrists in his strong hands.

“This is about you, baby,” he says quietly, and Seungmin blinks at him. “Why don’t you sit on the bed?”

Seungmin looks back at you for confirmation, and when you nod, he complies. He almost feels drunk, his head spinning with arousal and excitement as he ambles over to his bed and sits down at the foot of it. He shivers slightly now, the loss of the heat of your bodies making his chest contract.

The two of you don’t move for a second, only staring at each other, until Minho takes a step forward, pulls you into his body and cradles your neck, kissing you so deeply, Seungmin’s belly does a little flip. It’s so intimate, Seungmin almost feels like he shouldn’t be watching, how Minho squeezes his eyes shut, how your nails drag down Minho’s chiselled chest, how Minho grabs your ass and pulls you against him. But you look so good together that he can’t not watch. His dick twitches when Minho hastily undoes the button on your pants, pushes down the zipper and shoves his hand into your panties. The way you keen into him makes Seungmin lightheaded. Minho chuckles into your lips when you gasp out.

“Fucking hell, you’re really getting off on this one, huh,” he murmurs, just loud enough for Seungmin to hear. You raise your eyebrows at Minho before your hand falls to his bulge and squeeze.

“So are you, honey,” you say sweetly, and Minho rolls his eyes and pulls his hand from your panties, bringing them to his own lips.

Seungmin watches mesmerised as Minho cleans your slick off his fingers as he eyefucks you. His neglected cock dribbles pre-cum onto his sheets, and he wishes he could film the scene in front of him.

But then you notice him, and all at once he remembers that he’s not watching porn, but that this is really happening, and it sends him for another tailspin. You walk over to him, slowly pushing down your pants before you push him backwards with one single finger on his chest. Seungmin goes down without a fight. He would do anything for you at this point. You’re hovering over him like an angel, and when you grin, he knows he’s in for it, and he can’t wait. Without even kissing him, you sit back on your haunches.

“Why don’t you spread your legs a little wider for me, puppy,” you purr out, and your hands wrap around his ankles. Slowly, you push his legs back until they’re folded by his side and stare down where he’s now exposed to you. Seungmin’s face is burning.

“Hold them there, baby,” you say gently, and he does as you ask, wrapping his shaking hands around the back of his thighs.

“Good boy,” you mumble, and he has to bite his lip so he doesn’t whimper.

You get up only enough to pull your panties down your legs before you climb over him, your legs on either side of his, your core hovering right over his hard, leaking cock. This time he can’t hold back the needy whimper.

“Fuck, what are you doing,” he mumbles out and promptly blushes even harder when you chuckle at him.

“I’m gonna sit on your pretty little cock, puppy, what else would I do.” You pump him a few times before you line him up with your dripping entrance and sink down slowly, until he’s sheathed all the way inside of you. The wail that pushes past Seungmin’s lips is insane, and his hands fall from his legs to fist the sheets.

You don’t move, and he’s torn between begging you to please move and saying a prayer that you don’t because he’s throbbing again already, just from the sensation of your silky walls wrapped around him so perfectly. He wonders if you can feel it.

Minho’s broad shoulders appear behind you, looking down at Seungmin with his deep, penetrating stare that goes straight to Seungmin’s crotch. Minho’s hands gently swipe over your shoulders, brushing down the straps of your bra, making a beautiful show of it until he finally unclasps the back and throws it aside. Seungmin’s eyes fall to your tits, and he licks his lips instinctively. Minho smirks at his reaction. He snakes his hands around your waist and grabs both your tits, kneading them in his hands, watching Seungmin’s every reaction. Then he takes your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger and pinches them and your reaction is instant, back arching as you let out a pretty little whimper and clench around Seungmin enough to make him whimper as well.

Minho does it again, and you clench again, and it feels so good, Seungmin’s hips want to jump off the bed. But he can’t, you have him entirely pinned underneath your weight. His fists tighten on the sheets until his knuckles turn white.

Minho lets his hands glide down your body reverently, until his chest is pressed against your back and his hand dips between your spread legs. His lips nip at the skin of your neck as his pointer finger glides between your folds and finds your clit. He starts rubbing leisurely circles onto it that make you sink your nails into Seungmin’s legs, your cunt clenching around him so regularly he thinks he’s going to lose his mind. How is he going to tell you that he will actually cum just from this?

But then Minho’s fingers dip lower and glide around the base of Seungmin’s cock where he’s deep inside you, and Seungmin’s eyes roll into the back of his head.

“Oh my … fuuuuuck,” he wails out, his hands nearly ripping the sheets underneath him. And then you start rocking your hips over him ever so slightly, and he curses again.

“Feels so good,” he whines, all self-control out the window, “‘m so close, please, let me … let me …”

“How close?” You ask breathlessly and Seungmin’s cock throbs, his head thrown back. Almost there, he wants to answer, but he can’t string words together anymore.

But again, it seems like you know because – you stop, your hips stilling entirely. The moan of disappointment he lets out is visceral, his mouth falling open as his release slips away from him again. He wants to cry.

“Oh god, why, oh why, fuckfuckfuck,” he babbles out and you just shake your head.

“You haven’t even made me cum yet, pup.”

He’s going to die, he’s sure of it. His thighs are shaking, whole body shaken by tremors of his unspilled pleasure. When Minho speaks, he hears him like he’s underwater.

“Hey, Seungminnie,” Minho pipes up from where he’s stood behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. Seungmin’s head is still too dazed to reply, so he just hums. “Have you ever played with your cute little ass?”

Seungmin pries one eye open to stare at Minho, trying to assess if he’s joking. When he sees Minho’s sincerity, he feels stupid. Right, Minho and Jisung. Way to make it obvious you’re a borderline virgin, Kim, he chastises himself.

“Only … my fingers,” he mumbles out and Minho nods.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?” Minho asks and Seungmin scoffs.

“Don’t you think you’ve embarrassed me enough for one night?”

“What do you mean?” Minho asks gently and Seungmin sighs.

“I already nearly came twice, …” he trails off and Minho chuckles.

“Pup, that’s because we’re doing it on purpose,” he reassures, and Seungmin feels slightly better, “we just want to make you feel good. Are we making you feel good?”

Seungmin’s eyes slip shut when you grind your hips down and clench around him.

“So … so fucking good,” he sighs out.

“Good. Then be a good pup and make Y/Nie cum, and then I’ll give you your reward,” Minho purrs and Seungmin feels like his brain is leaking out of his ears. He just nods and wordlessly points to his bedside table.

“What?” Minho asks.

“Lube,” Seungmin just says, and Minho barks out a laugh.

“Fuck, you’re needier than I thought.”

Your hips resume their grinding movement as Minho roots around his drawers and Seungmin’s mouth falls open with pleasure. Your movements speed up as you start lifting yourself off his cock and drop back down.

When he finally flutters his eyes open, he’s met with the image of you riding him, your own eyes screwed shut as you fuck yourself down onto him, your fingers raking over his calves. It feels weird, his own passive role in this, but at the same it’s overwhelming him, just how good it feels to be handled like this. His legs are starting to burn from how they’re folded in on himself, but somehow it’s only adding to the pleasure running through his body.

You ride him harder, little moans tumbling from your lips and Seungmin sees Minho watch you intently, his eyes glued to your scrunched up face, his cock straining against his pants. He can’t watch for long before the pleasure gets too much again, and his head falls back.

Seungmin can feel Minho’s fingers run over the sensitive backs of his thighs before he hears the lid of the lube bottle pop open. When Minho’s slick finger runs over his rim, he gasps out. It feels so much better than it has ever felt when it was just him and his own fingers.

Minho pushes one finger in slowly and Seungmin moans lewdly, his hands looking for purchase on your body. Minho fucks his finger into him in time with you bouncing on his cock, and Seungmin’s world slowly starts to lose focus, all his nerve endings on fire.

Somehow, he manages to snake his hand in between your bodies and presses his thumb against your clit, letting you grind against it as you ride him and your whimpers climb in pitch, your cunt clenching around him so hard he’s seeing stars. And then, without a warning, you suddenly fall apart, hips twitching as you just take your orgasm from him, riding it out with a fucked out smile on your face. He doesn’t see Minho turn your head to his to press a messy kiss to your parted lips as he works a second finger into Seungmin.

Seungmin himself is barely coherent anymore, the sensation of you cumming around him, Minho’s fingers making him feel so full and the over stimulation of the two orgasms you had so brutally ripped from him – he doesn’t know what kind of noises he’s making at this point, but he no longer cares, the only thing he can think of is the all-consuming heat that is building in his abdomen.

“Fuck, please, shit let me cum, this time, please,” he hears himself plead, and he wants to cry, he’s so fucking desperate. As a response, Minho crooks his finger into Seungmin’s prostate, and Seungmin moans so loud he’s pretty sure the whole dorm can hear.

“Please, please, please, I can’t take it fuck I can’t fucking … oh god,” he keeps pleading, his eyes unfocused as he stares up at you. There’s wetness on his cheek, and it’s only then that he realises that he’s crying.

Suddenly, you lift yourself off his cock and lean over him, caging him against the bed. Your weight on top of him is reassuring, and he leans up to kiss you, sighing happily when your fingers thread into his hair.

“Such a good puppy, such a pretty puppy,” you murmur against his lips and he whimpers.

Somewhere behind you, Minho’s hand wraps around his cock as his fingers crook inside of him again. Minho’s fingers keep rubbing at his prostate as Minho slowly jerks him off, and Seungmin can feel himself leaking all over Minho’s hand as he barrels towards his orgasm, pathetic whimpers tumbling from his lips as his legs twitch helplessly.

“Please,” he whispers in your mouth, and you shush him gently.

“It’s ok, puppy, you can cum,” you murmur, and that’s all it takes for Seungmin’s entire world to explode into white as he cums. The pleasure is so intense his body is thrashing on the bed underneath you, and he keeps spilling and spilling and spilling into Minho’s hand, more than he ever had before, and then his vision goes fuzzy at the edges.

…

“Seungmin, puppy, can you hear us?”

Minho’s voice sounds like he’s underwater again, but Seungmin hears him. Somewhat. His throat is dry and raw, so when he tries to speak, all that comes out is a raspy affirmative.

“Hey, there you are,” he hears you whisper gently. He can feel your hand carding through his hair, and he hums, leaning into the touch.

He hears the door to his bathroom open and some water run. Then, Minho appears in his line of sight with a wet towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other.

“Here, drink,” he orders, and you help bring the bottle to Seungmin’s lips. He gulps it down greedily as he feels something wet and warm wipe at his stomach. You move to climb off him, but he whines slightly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You chuckle, but press a sweet kiss to his lips.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you whisper to him as you slowly move to lie down next to him. He pulls you closer with the arm that’s still around your waist.

His heart rate is calming down, and he finally feels like his brain is working again.

“Jesus Christ, what did you do to me?” He breathes out and feels you chuckle against him.

“Felt like you needed it,” you say gently, and Minho nods. When Seungmin meets Minho’s eyes, he blushes crimson. He’s topless but still in his jeans.

“Fuck, you didn’t even get undressed,” he laments and grimaces, one hand shooting up to hide his face. Fucking pathetic. But Minho gently grabs him by the wrist und forces Seungmin to look at him.

“Hey,” he says sternly, “what I do or don’t do is entirely up to me. You don’t owe me anything, okay?”

Seungmin nods tentatively, and Minho reaches a hand out to ruffle his hair.

“Plus, it was really fucking hot,” he adds, and Seungmin blushes more.

“Just because I don’t talk about sex doesn’t mean I don’t need it,” he mumbles out, and Minho just nods at him.

“Noted,” he just says.

You make sure Seungmin has recovered completely before you leave him with a kiss to his forehead and slip down the hallway back to Minho’s room.

As soon as the door closes behind you, Minho pushes you against it, his lips on yours. His hands slide under your shirt and run all over you while he licks into your mouth dirtily. When he pulls back, his face is flushed and his eyes are wild.

“Do it to me,” he pleads, "I've never wanted to sub, but now I do. Do it to me."

yeah, you see now why I need to do a bonus chapter 😏 minho kink exploration coming soon 🤪 also disclaimer lol

series masterlist // skzms' general masterlist // ko-fi

🔖 general taglist: follow and turn on notifications for my library account: @skzms-library 🔞 I monitor ages over there, just like I used to do with my taglist. I will block minors and ageless blogs, and you'll have to message me again to get unblocked. so just have your age in your bio before you follow!

[yelenasdiary]

Drabble || Distracted

Pairings: Kate Bishop x Fem! Reader

Summary: Kate can’t stay focused on the movie the two of you are watching.

Fluff & Smut. 18+ ONLY! Men & Minors, DNI!!

Warnings: Needy! Kate, Fingering (R Receiving), Vaginal touching (idk if I need this warning?), Orgasm denial. This is not proofread or corrected! | K

AC: just a little idea I had, enjoy! X

A cold, stormy night in NYC, you and your girlfriend were snuggled up in Kate’s bed watching yet another action packed film. Kate had won rock paper scissors for the second time tonight, allowing her to pick the movie and after a long week at work, you didn’t mind her movie choices.

Kate’s attention to either films was lacking. Her mind not being able to ignore the fact you were lying beside her in one of her oversized shirts, no bra & just panties. It drove her mind crazy. She just wanted to turn the movie off and have you riding her tongue with her name coming from your lips. The loud cracks of thunder would surely drown out your moans, she thought.

You felt her hand gently rubbing the inside of your thigh, you chose to ignore the thought that maybe she wanted a little more, not wanting to ruin the comfort of the night. It has been a little while since the two of you were able to have sex. With Kate training with the Avengers and being away on missions, then there was you who had plenty of admin work to deal with along side Pepper Potts, it left little to no time for intimacy.

Kate tried to read your body language, you didn’t stir or move her hand away nor did you look up at her to question her actions. She moved her hand further up your inner thigh and slowly you spread your legs just a little wider for her without realising.

Your eyes closed as you let out a soft moan when Kate’s thumb brushed over your clit, she bit her bottom lip at the sound she missed. You shift ever so slightly closer to her, wanting more but the movie had an interesting story line and you were sure it was almost finished.

“After the movie baby, please, I promise” you said softly when Kate added a little pressure to your clit, making you moan softly once again. “I can’t wait” the brunette whispered, her lips pressing softly against your cheek, “just let me make you feel good, please” she begged. Got you loved how needy she was for you.

You gave her a soft nod, allowing her to slip her hand into your panties, her lips moving to neck. She toyed with your clit and ran her fingers through your folds, “you’re so wet” she mumbled into your neck.

“I missed you” you replied with a soft smirk, your eyes struggling to stay focused on the movie in front of you.

She toyed with you just a little longer before she pulled her hand out from your panties and brought her long, slender fingers to her lips, moaning ever so softly at the taste of you. “God, I’ve missed you too” she said before sliding her hand back down into your panties.

Slowly, she slid two fingers into your pussy, curling them almost instantly. “K-Kate!” You moaned softly.

“It’s okay baby, just watch your movie” she hushed you, allowing you time to get used to her fingers again. “I just want to hear those pretty moans you make for me” she added.

She started off slow, thrusting her fingers in and out of your wet cunt, each thrust making you wetter. Your focus on the movie was non existent, your moans got louder as her thrusts sped up. Kate’s soft lips left light hickeys on your neck, she hated she couldn’t leave strong ones unless you came her the okay. You didn’t want to lose your job over her neediness to calm you as hers.

“B-baby! Don’t stop” you moaned, throwing your head back, giving Kate even more access to your neck. “You’re so wet for me” she said softly, soaking up the whimpers that left your lips, “clenching my fingers so hard baby, you’re close, aren’t you” she added in a tease. All you could do was nod, as you desperately bucked your hips to match her thrusts. “W-wanna c-cum” you whimpered.

“I know baby, just a little longer. You can hold it for me, can’t you? Just a for a little longer” the brunette said before crashing her lips onto yours, deepening her fingers. You gripped onto her bicep harshly, doing your best not to cum unless she said but the way she curled her fingers at the perfect time, it was near impossible.

“You’re doing so well baby, want you to make a mess for me, can you do that?” Kate asked, pulling away from the shortly lived heated make out session.

“P-lease Kate, ne-need to cum! W-wanna make a m-mess for y-you” you managed to pull the words together between moans.

“Cum for me beautiful” Kate whispered, leaning closer to you, “cum for me” she added seductively.

The tone of her voice mixed with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt pushed you over the edge, you came also screaming her name when you felt her thumb begin to toy with your sensitive clit. Your hips began to roll against her fingers as you rode out your high, your nails digging into the skin on her bicep, she smiled softly at you. “That’s it baby, keep riding my fingers” she whispered.

“We’re not done yet” she added.

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