#the way they are so gentle and caring with eachother drives me up the wall

[n0anix]

woah more of them who would've guessed

[mayghosts]

Pilot: High Infidelity

Summary: Caitlin and reader get into another argument, what happens when readers fav place to mourn is occupied by a familiar face? reader is pink!

(TOC) (next)

Warnings: yelling and toxic relationships

AN: Eeeee im super excited for this one, I havent really figured it out in full yet but il it will be good ❣️ expect ch1 by 6/17

Almost six years. For six years you have been dating Caitlin Clark. People would always say "your love is amazing" and that we "are absolutely adorable together." However the two of you haven't really been amazing and adorable for a while.

“Fuck you Cait! Go fuck some random girl and call me when you get your shit figured out!” slamming the door on your way out, you could feel your eyes well up. You honestly didn't care. It wouldn't be the first time this hallway has seen your tears or heard you and Caitlin screaming at eachother.

Another break. Caitlin wanted another break. Probably so she could go fuck some random girl. You would've left by now, broken up with her for good, if it was anyone else, but when it was good it was so good. When it was bad Caitlin would just ask for a "break" and go no contact for a few weeks. Hard to break up with someone when you can't even reach them. Checking your texts, you noticed Cait had already blocked you. Classy.

Out of the dorm building, and into the breezy march air, you slumped into the drivers seat of your car. Letting your head rest against the steating wheel as you let it all out. "Fuck!" slamming your fist against the seat you sat back up. You felt absolutely hopeless. Putting your car in drive you backed out of the parking lot, driving a few minutes back towards your dorm before pulling into to the Menchies parking lot across from your dorm.

The Menchies has seen all of your highs and lows, especially your lows. You don't really know why its always the 24hr fro yo spot that gives you peace of mind, maybe its the pink and green tiles that line the walls, the sticky floors that make squelching noises whenever you take a step or the gentle buzz from the florescents. It was probably just the fro yo, and the saftey from running into anyone you know and having to talk about Caitlin.

However, the Menchies was unable to provide you any peace of mind tonight. Walking into the store, your puffy red eyes immediately found an equally disheveled Kate Martin. Great.

[bubbletaeeee]

G!P Dom!Ryujin x Sub!Fem!Reader

Requested: yes ❤️‍🔥

Warning: suggestive, smut, mature, G!P, pure smut

Content: Smut!! A little fluff

* Ryujin has a heart of gold and she loved praising you but sometimes she could catch you by surprise out of nowhere and get a little rough with you

* She’s just a LiIiIiTtLe overprotective, maybe a bit jealous too

* And it would show once you got home, she’d take you from wherever they were just to go and show you who owns you

* She has a big dick and she definitely knows it, she’s so smug and such a big tease

* She’ll tease you anywhere, get you wound up by touching your thigh or grinding against you a little when she stood behind you.

* She wants you to call her daddy and will demand you tell her how much you love her fucking you and how much you love to be used for her pleasure.

* “Come on baby girl, tell me how much you love daddy’s giant cock inside of your little pussy” “you love me pounding into you like this don’t you?” “Who’s your daddy, sweetheart?” “Louder for me, who do you belong to?”

* Sometimes she gets hard or horny for no apparent reason, just looking at you can turn her on, she wants you all the time. But of course not just for sex, she loves the romance too.

* Except sometimes she’ll sit you on her lap casually like a sweet gesture, like couples do. Even around people, but secretly she’s making you take her cock, subtly having you grind or thrusting up into you. She whispers into your ear for no one else to hear, “you’re being so good for me babe, I want you to cum for me”

* She also loves pinning you against walls, the feeling of having you under her control turns her on so so much.

* This girl can go multiple rounds she wants to overstimulate you to hear you whine and whimper.

* Watching you try to walk afterwards makes her proud.

* She’s also very touchy, if she’s near you, she must be touching you. If it’s a sweet hug or just holding your hand. Anything. She just wants contact with you

* Sometimes you go out of your way to make her jealous by acting a little touchy with the other members or something just to see how rough she’ll go with you.

* She will 100% punish you well

* Ohhhh she loves spanking your ass as punishment, and facefucking you. Hearing your moans and gags drives her insane.

* If you’re the horny one, she’ll make you beg for it. And purposely take her time to tease you until you get frustrated and demand she fucks you already. And then she’ll get real rough and spread your legs wide, pounding into you at a fast pace, “is this what you want princess? Hmm?” “Use your words for daddy” “you just love being daddy’s little whore don’t you?”

* And don’t forget, she must mark you up, leaving hickeys on your neck and chest.

* She loves when you give her blowjobs, she’ll run her fingers through your hair and tug a little harshly sometimes, but she’s cheeky and will push you a little just to hear you gag.

* The look after she cums with her juices all on your lips makes her want to ruin you. Use you like a little fuckdoll

* But of course aside from the punishments and roughness. She can be very sweet and slow, mostly in the mornings. She might get a little bit of a morning hard on, and she obviously needs you. But she’ll be gentle with you and praise you nicely, no teasing or very little. ~ just the way to start the day for both of you.

* Ryujin is very sweet when it comes to aftercare, she’ll ask if you need anything and clean you up if needed, probably have you take a shower with her to lovingly take care of eachother.

* Her smile is the death of you, when she looks at you all loving and passionate with that cute little smile it drives you crazy, you can’t help it wrap your arms around her neck and let yourself fall into her embrace

[whoreshijima]

So me and @m-mortimer did a lil collab :) all we do is thirst at eachother so here enjoy our one braincelled thinking and horniness 🤍

Thank you Izzy for allowing me to post this ilyvm and Your smart brain :))

WC- 2.9k

CW// daddy kink, reader has a vagina, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, slight mention of breeding, FaceTime masturbation, choking, mentions of fem receiving oral, basically no prep fucking

Every time Ushijima goes away, he promises to call you everyday, even if it’s for two minutes before bed or as he’s eating his lunch on the small breaks he gets. You appreciate it so much, the way he thinks about you constantly. But sometimes it gets to be way too much, way too long. He’s been away for three days now, three days too long. Ushijima called you as often as he could, simply missing the sweet tone you’d greet him with, the smile on your face as you answered the call. He loved every part of you, from how you dance whilst making dinner as he watched through the screen. Or how, like right now, you’re trying to hide your whimpers from the microphone and how you’re trying to keep your face straight, keeping the casual chatter about what you’re going to do that day.

It started as a simple FaceTime call from his cheap hotel bed, like any other day he’s away. But the grumbling deep voice on the other end of the phone, mixed with three days without his touch, made you shivery and needy. You didn’t know Ushijima was thinking the same thing. The slight mess of your bed hair and bare skin around your shoulders and chest from the small cami you were wearing made his breath catch in his chest, blood rushing south instantly.

“I dunno I might go grocery s-shoppping” you mumble out, cursing yourself for stumbling over your words as your fingers ghost over your clit, the slickness from your arousal easing your movements between your legs. Ushi can hear the sheets shuffling, the way your legs spread to give you more space to slide your fingers deep inside yourself, the wet sounds not breezing past your boyfriend's ears without notice. “Get us some f-food for when you come home?” You can’t hide the way your breath catches in your throat as you catch the spot deep inside you, the spot that Ushijima knows makes you scream and gush around him. “W-what would you like to eat?”

If Ushijima could answer honestly, he’d want to eat you. Spend hours between your legs as he swirls his warm tongue around and over your clit, strong hands pinning your legs to the bed as he spits and devours your cunt. There’s nothing better than the idea of you cumming over his mouth, writhing and wriggling under his firm grip, as two fingers curl and scissor inside you, knowing that he’s prepped you enough for his cock. Prepped you enough so that the stretch around him doesn’t hurt you as much as it should.

Just the thought of him being between your legs, cunt stretched so beautifully around him as he pushes inside you, your soft, plush thighs wrapped around his waist as he bucks his hips up into your swollen cunt. Imagining the way your warm walls surround him as he pins you to the mattress, a large hand wrapped around your tiny throat, completely at his mercy, has him pushing his hips into the mattress.

“Erm, chicken of some type?” Lower. His voice was definitely lower, almost a snarl as he talks to you, the pressure of his cock against the mattress making his eyes roll to the back of his head briefly.

“S-stir fry?” You turn your head to meet his gaze through the screen, your eyes are glazed over. Your glossy ones meet his lust filled stare, his lips are parted in small gasps and grunts. You know exactly how his other hand is gripping the sheets, knuckles turning whiter and whiter everytime the head of his cock catches against the bumps of the sheets and mattress. Neither of you bothering to hide from eachother, you let out a whine, letting your mouth hang open as you speed your fingers up against your clit.

How you wish you could see his swollen, leaking cock right now. The way it twitches with every grind forward, how the pre cum beads at the head of his cock before dripping down the shaft. But the way his face is scrunched up as he closes his eyes, the few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and how the hand holding the phone is shaking ever so slightly drives you insane. You can hear the squeak of his hotel mattress everytime he moves against it, the steady sound obvious to anyone near his room. The gentle banging of the headboard against the wall would make anyone think he’s Railing someone hard, but it’s just him, desperately rutting against the bed.

Ushi growls out a “Fuck baby” and that’s all it takes for you to arch your back and cry out for him, fingers rubbing speedily at your swollen clit and leaking pussy. The lewd sounds of your sweet slick dripping out of you mixed with the sweet Mewls you let out, driving ushi over the edge. His hips roll one, two times before he grunts out, body shaking as he cums, spilling all over his boxers and the sheets underneath him. His cock is throbbing over the thought of cumming inside you, marking you as his. Breeding you and filling you up with his cum. He lets out a shaky breath, staring into your eyes as he watches your arm moving fast in the view of the camera.

“Cum for me” he growls, voice low and gruff as he commands you to cum. And you’re not one to disobey him, your fingers move faster as you grind up into your touch. A high whimper leaves your mouth as you reach the point of orgasm, swiftly followed by a loud and needy moan, directing it at your boyfriend. Your body shakes and twitches as you ride it out, a layer of sweat adorning your skin.

“Fuck...” you whisper, finally going limp against the sheets and pillows “I miss you... so much” his gaze has softened as he smiles gently at you. He so desperately wants to reach through the screen to stroke your cheek with his thumb, hooking his fingers under your chin and pull you in for a deep kiss. To feel how your spit mixes together, and how it drips over your chin after he’s fucked you dumb on his cock.

He chuckles deeply, it rumbling through his chest “Oh just you wait till I’m home baby”

He was late. Which was a first, because there was no skirting around anything with him, either five minutes early or exactly on time. Maybe it was the nerves making you work double speed, looking at the clock every other second, turning on your phone and forgetting to actually look at the time and having to turn it on again, revisiting the last message he’d sent you - a blunt text telling you he was just getting a taxi from the airport and that he should be back in about thirty minutes.

Forty minutes ago. The skin around your thumb was raw with how you’d been nibbling at it, but not from nerves, if the dampness of your underwear and the tension in your core was anything to go by. No, you were ridiculously turned on, from what? From everything, from nothing, from him and that goddamn look he gave you two nights ago, paired with a few choice words that sparked lightning up your spine just remembering them.

“Baby.”

In that blunt, dark voice of his, croaky from sleep and strained from moaning your name, lips swollen from how hard he’d been biting it to stop himself grunting and snarling as loud as he usually did. God - that was what you were waiting for, the sounds of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, of his mouth, of his fingers, of his cock.

You shivered, a wave of lust clouding your mind for a split second, daring to slide a hand between your thighs, trembling and tensing already, and all you’d done was think about him. 3 days, 3 fucking days and you were reduced to this quivering mess on the couch at the thought of Ushijima coming through that door and finally - finally giving you what he’d promised during that call.

A muffled vibration and ding sprung you from your thoughts, from your quick spiralling down into a puddle on the floor, ripping your fingers from your underwear to pick up your phone, heart stopping and breath catching at the singular word on the screen.

Here

It was a fucking word and yet, a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your body and you struggled to stand, shaking with adrenaline and panting heavily, the implications of the word taking a toll on your body and if you were in your right mind - you’d probably slapped yourself and remarked on how desperately pathetic you were acting. But it had been 3 days, 3 agonising days of waiting and texting and barely being able to talk to him outside his strict schedule and your shifts at work.

And now? He was here, he was here and you could hear the elevator ding at the end of the corridor and the back of your neck heated, and all you could see was the front door and your hand gripping the handle, and something thumped to the ground and -

He was here. Ushijima - he was stood right there, at arm’s length, neck pillow tucked under one arm and duffle bag slumped at his feet. That must have been the thing that fell to the floor, but you don’t really care because he’s staring at you with the dark, dangerous look on his face and it should have struck playful fear into you but all you could do was whimper,

“Toshi,”

You sounded so much better saying his name in real life, fresh and feeble and sending blood draining from his head so fast, one hand shot out to grab the door frame. Ushijima strained, against everything, knuckles turning white and he probably could have cracked the woodwork, cock unbearably hard and aching within seconds of seeing you. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t been half hard the entire time after your call, unable to get the vision of you with your head tossed back and your eyes scrunching in pleasure, cumming deliciously from the frantic movements of your fingers beneath your pyjamas.

“Again,”

You squeak, he’s never sounded like that before, never been so low and so gruff, on the verge of snapping, avoiding your eye because if he could see the wrecked gaze you fixed on him -

“Toshi - please,”

His shirt ripped from the force with which he tore it over his head, one arm getting caught in his desperate attempt to strip and he very nearly tripped when his foot caught in the strap of his duffle bag, dragging it over the threshold before untangling himself,

“Again, say it again baby,”

He’s on you before you know what’s going on, kicking the door shut but neither of you hear it click, too consumed in each other to really worry about the fact his bag is preventing you two from having complete privacy. But you can’t think, you can’t form a single thought apart from,

“Toshi - Toshi more please!” Ushijima’s mouth swallowing your words almost instantly, one of his hands cupping the entirety of the back of your head, tilting you just so and allowing him to lick into you, feasting on your lips and tongue like a man starved and for a second, you realise he probably is. And so are you, god - you’re hungry for everything he has to offer, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying desperately to shove his sweat pants down, hissing when he accidentally bit your lip too hard but he’s dipping to your neck and delivering an even harsher bite -

“Fuck,”

Your legs give out, like they usually do under his rough assaults of your neck but you often have a bed or a couch behind you, nothing cushioning you from the hard wood floors of the hallway except for the fat of your ass and his arms encircling your head and shoulders.

“Here - I’m fucking you here, I can’t wait,” Ushijima follows you down, mouth barely leaving yours, form engulfing yours, hands trapping yours. He spreads you out on the cold floor, snarling when he gets a face of your chest from how violently you arch at the temperature and the painful nips left over the skin of your collar bone.

Ushijima isn’t much of a talker when he’s got you trembling underneath him, but the comments that are spat unfiltered from his mouth do absolutely nothing to curb the bright hot lust making you loose all semblance of control,

“Fuck - you’re soaking, did you wait for me? Did you make yourself cum again after I ended the call? No? I didn’t - I’ve been waiting for two days to do this, to touch you like this, put my hands on your body like this - fuck baby you’re so needy - no, here, look at me,”

You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes and thrown your head back, feeling thick fingers digging into your jaw and forcing you to look at him, dark eyes tracing every inch of your face while he dragged the other hand down your torso, short nails catching the loose fabric of your dress. It was a short moment of clarity; him looking at you, you looking at him, eyes softening so something akin to affectionate love before it was overwhelmed with predatory intent, that soft touch of his hand shoving your thighs apart and sinking into your underwear,

“M’not - I can’t wait, I can’t - let me,”

“Yes! Yes! Toshi please!”

You two sound ridiculous, desperate and clawing at each other, your smaller fingers shoving his trousers down over his ass and your entire body jolts when his cock dropped heavily on to your cunt, hot and angry and hard as fucking steel, throbbing against your clit and you clench around nothing, the anticipation too much to contain.

Ushijima is in no better state than you, fumbling with his footing with snaps of his jaw and he’s entirely too rough with the way he pumps himself, grinding against the silk of your cunt in a feeble attempt to try and prep you, to make the breach less painful, less of a stretch but you need that, you do and it’s driving you crazy, and it’s probably driving him crazy too,

“Go - Toshi, please, I can’t - fuck me please!”

The strength that emerges from the man astounds you every time, hoisting your thighs high up his waist and then apparently changing his mind, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and looming over you, sinking into you with once, debilitating thrust of his hips. And the noise that left him, oh god - it was borderline animalistic, debauched and wrecked, and one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever heard.

He’s got his hands either side of your head, clawing against the floor for purchase, immediately starting a brutal pace, the slap of his skin on yours echoing throughout the apartment, drowned out only by the high pitched squeals coming from your mouth and the filthy way he was talking down at you,

“Taking me so well baby, so fucking well - m’so proud of you, didn’t need any prep - fuck! So tight, so goddamn tight f’me -,” he doesn’t soften, not when the sounds of your pussy creaming around his cock grows louder with every sharp snap of his hips, shoving your legs into your chest and forcing harsh shouts from your throat,

“Yes! Daddy - missed you so, so much - harder, please! I’ll be s’good for you, so good just - hah - harder!”

Neither of you realise that every sound your bodies produce, every squelch and click of your cunt, every growl and deep snarl from his chest, every needy squeal and plea from your lips can be heard all the way down the corridor. The front door was still open, propped from where the duffle bag had prevented it from closing, the light from the corridor providing a perfect spotlight for the unsuspecting neighbour who dared venture out to see what all the noises were.

The vision of Ushijima’s back rippling and rolling with his bringing his hand to close around your throat, prompting a garbled hiccup and tears to spring in your eyes, and your little feet dangling uselessly over his shoulders probably should have rendered them silent, shocked and rooted to the spot.

But the quiet gasp was caught by the hulking creature on top of you, quirking his head and making eye contact with them for a split second before simply resuming his quick, paralysing thrusts, harder even than before - drawing a high pitched wail from your throat and there was no mistaking the fluid splashing on the floor, mingling with white and smearing over his balls, slapping against your ass.

A leg struck out, kicking the door shut and locking the duffle outside, looking as sorry for itself and your neighbour, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, still reflecting the vision of you cumming harshly on Ushijima’s cock, and him simply continuing to fuck you through it, the sounds of you two muffled but no less poignant against the calm stupor of the corridor.

And so what if it carried on, moving through the apartment and quiet possibly earning a complaint from the complex security but neither of you could hear the phone ringing over the bed creaking and slamming against the wall, too consumed in each other, too wound up in the sounds you could pull and the reactions you could bring forward. Damn - if him only being gone for three days turned you both into needy desperate animals, then how the hell would you cope with his next match that required over a week away in a completely different country?

Please follow Izzy she’s a genius and the reason for me being horny @m-mortimer

[tenskittens]

Not Enough - part 1.

Smut <3 Fluff <3 Angst (lots of angst) <3 sex, foreplay, ass, outdoor reader x Johnny pairing. Mentions of johnten pairing.

Not Enough - part 1 - the first part of the JohnTenReader saga.

Wordcount - 2.5k.

You chose to study at NCIT because you had heard that there were great opportunities in technology, and you knew coding was your strongest skill when you were younger. A few years into your time there, you realised that, whilst you were alright at computers and tech - especially for a girl, as some of the younger guys would frequently point out - you were nothing on the natural talent that seemed to have been bestowed upon most of the guys here. In fact, you’re pretty sure you only got a place on your course for some sort of diversity purpose, and the fraternity lifestyle you had ended up being dragged into certainly wasn’t helping your case. Going into your final year, it’s your last summer - you’ve been contemplating leaving the frat house - and the chaos that came with it - once the new semester started.

“Hyung, we’re leaving!” yelled Ten down to the rest of the house, dragging Yangyang out of the door with him. You knew he was yelling goodbye to his closest “friend” in the house, John Suh, and didn’t actually care about the rest of the frat boys hearing him. Ten just wanted to make John jealous because he was taking Yangyang out to one of the more inclusive bars in Itaewon. He initially planned on going out with Johnny tonight, just the two of them. But Johnny wasn’t really down for it today - he had thought he was supposed to be going out to a restaurant with just him and Ten, and when Ten suggested Itaewon John just presumed that it meant everybody else was invited out, too. These two were always getting into these complicated misunderstandings in their entangled feelings, and you’re pretty used to dealing with it by now. But actually, Ten was just as annoyed that Johnny wasn’t out with him tonight. He loves Yangyang, his closest Dongsaeng, but he wanted to spend tonight with Johnny. This whole situation was just a misunderstanding, but neither Johnny nor Ten realised this. “Bye guys!!” yelled Yangyang, excited for this rare occasion that he got to spend with Ten, now that Ten and Johnny were both all-but-dropped out of NCIT.

Once Yangyang and Ten had left, the house was quiet. The others were mostly working on assignments and projects, as they tend to do in the late evenings. Doyoung and Taeyong were probably upstairs bickering about the most efficient way of writing a code, Yuta almost certainly glued to his screen typing out a written assignment - the only one of the group also studying a language alongside computer science. Haechan, Jaemin and Mark were probably out at the student union Dream bar. That left just the two of you - you and John Suh - alone in the frat house.

“What’s up, Johnny?” you ask, putting on a slightly dramatic pout to try to invoke some sort of response from your most-likely-stoned-over best friend and boyfriend. “Nothing, y/n, just don’t ask” replied Johnny, sort of bluntly which took you by surprise. You wait in silence for a moment. “Except, look, I did my hair and makeup to go out with Ten and he just goes and turns our date into a party night and then I don’t even end up going and -” Johnny is interrupted.

“Date??”.

You both shoot your heads around, and sat in the corner of the living room, slumped against a beanbag in a hoodie that disguised any level of his presence, was Jae.

“Yeah bro, you know, was supposed to just be us guys tonight nothing out of the ordinary I jus-”. Jae interrupted again.

“John, you know how often i’m lurking in here and nobody notices me? You don’t need to cover this shit up with me”.

You and Johnny look at each other, and back at Jae. You wonder how much he knows. To the others, you and Johnny were basically a married couple, and Ten was your best friend. What they didn’t know was that, of everybody in the house, the most involved pair was certainly Johnny and Ten, and you didn’t mind that. You were best friends with both of them, and romantically involved with Johnny, but nothing made you happier than knowing how happy Ten and John - the two polar-opposite NCIT dropouts - were when they were together.

“Y/n, come outside with me a second?” asked Johnny, seeming genuinely stressed and upset.

Stood on the roof of the frat house, lined with bottles and scattered with cigarette ashes and joint ends, Johnny opens up to you.

“Y/n, Ten was so mad that I’m staying with you tonight, but I was so mad that he went out with Yangyang. There’s some shit going on here and I don’t feel comfortable and, you know, I really like you y/n but it seems - agh, whatever, that’s not true” - Johnny rests his hand against your cheek and looks down at you. “Y/n, I like you both, but its so hard keeping this shit with Ten a secret and shit like this always happens and y/n I’m so sick of coming to you being stressed and -”.

You raise your hand to Johnny’s cheek too, and brush his hair behind his ear.

“John, you’re so beautiful, you’re so fun. You’re the best friend - and boyfriend - that I could ask for”. He places a kiss on your forehead, and you look at him with wondering eyes, gazing into his dark irises and losing yourself for just a second, stood there under the night sky feeling safe in the arms of Johnny Suh.

What Johnny wanted to tell you, you know, is that he can’t really handle dating both of you anymore. But the thing is - you know that, and you understand that. Right now, though, you don’t want to accept that. You just want your best friends. Johnny seems anxious, and he mutters something you don’t quite hear, although you know for sure you heard an “I love you” slip from his soft, gentle lips. But Johnny isn’t one for romance - not for more than a few minutes. His vulnerable side is only ever present for you and Ten, and it’s always suddenly replaced with his intense energy and both caring, yet intimidating, control.

You didn’t realise John’s hand had moved to the band of your panties, and he had been playing with the lace for a while now. You tune in as you feel his passionate and dominating lips crash down on yours, pulling you in tightly and resting his palm across the small of your back. He drags his sharp, manicured nails across the line of your underwear, shocking you compared to the softness of the hands that were holding you close and tight. You’re feeling vulnerable and lost, knowing that you’re so close to having to let go of the man you love the most, and all you want to do is feel close to him. To submit yourself to him, and to be under his control and to feel his passion and his love, is all that can comfort you right now. Johnny feels the same - you both need eachother.

“Y/n, are you okay with this here?” Johnny asks you. The rooftop is pretty secluded - nobody was around and it was very unlikely anybody would appear up here at this time. It’s not necessarily the most comfortable of places, but the slight risk of being outside, practically in public, sort of turns you on even more, and you can tell Johnny is desperate. “Mhm, please Johnny, just have me” you whisper breathlessly, looking at the ground and avoiding eye contact with Johnny out of shame for how desperate you are for his touch. “Look at me, y/n,” Johnny commands. You look up at him, and he crashes back onto you, moving his hand back under your pants and roughly taking hold of your thigh as he holds the back of your neck with his other hand. You can feel how much he needs you, and you need him.

“So wet, y/n. So needy and yet so patient for me. Such a good kitten”. You shift under him as he finds your clit, gently feeling for where he knows he will get the strongest reaction from you. He’s right - you’re dripping for him. You’re just imagining him taking you against this wall, pressed up against the cold, rough bricks as you support yourself with the pipes running alongside the building. You already need him inside you, but he’s just playing with you - teasing your folds carefully and attentively, occasionally pausing to place kisses on your neck, breathing deeply onto your neck, his breath against your ear making you shudder. Each delicate kiss is followed by the movement of his fingers as he edges closer towards being inside of you, teasing you strongly enough to encourage you to play games with him in return.

You shift your stance to allow Johnny to grind himself against you, and you ensure your thighs place a decent pressure against the bulge in Johnny’s joggers. Johnny moans in pleasure and annoyance as you move against him, and - possibly to stop you from edging him closer to his own orgasm - he pushes his fingers deep inside you, causing you to draw in a sharp breath. He stays there, and looks at you with deep and wanting eyes. You return the action by grinding up against his bulge, which also moves his fingers deeper into you. Johnny takes this opportunity to curl them up, hitting your spot and letting out a mischievous “mhmm” as he does.

“Y/n, are you playing with me? You can’t win, you know that” Johnny announces playfully, with a tone of seriousness that reminds you who is in charge. Johnny rhythmically curls his fingers towards your spot, his thumb playing carefully with your clit, driving the little moans to slip out from between your lips, the sound landing in between the two of you and filling the atmosphere with a sense of vulnerable pleasure.

“Johnny, please, just fuck me here” you beg, the words tumbling from your mouth. Johnny’s eyes darken and he takes on his dominant tone once again. “Y/n, you’re so pathetic, look at you falling apart under my fingers”. He continues to edge you closer, grabbing your ass hard with his other hand, pressing your face into his chest and leaving you in blackness, lost in the pleasure and your quickening breaths as he curls his fingers over and over. You can feel how his other hand keeps you steady but, at the same time, he is ensuring that your leg continues to slightly ride against his bulge. Johnny needs you - his y/n, who wants him more than anybody else has ever wanted him. But he still feels hurt, and Ten crosses his mind again for a split second, frustrating him enough to pull out of you and flip you around, pushing you against the walls so he has full access to your ass. You take a moment to orientate yourself, looking over your shoulder to see Johnny stood there, his hair now sweaty and the veins in his arms pulsing. He looks so naturally beautiful, looking down at you with lustful eyes. You can tell from his expression that he’s feeling distracted and frustrated, and you don’t care. You just want him to take out his feelings on you. You want to feel vulnerable for him. Johnny feels your ass, pressing his thumb against your entrance. He bends over you and wraps his arms around your stomach, stroking your nipple for just a second before stopping, and simply holding you. With his head resting on your shoulder, he tells you “I do love you, y/n. I do”. You both stop there for a moment, heartbeats pounding in unison. Johnny is still holding himself, preparing to take you. “Do I get to come then, Mr Suh?” you ask playfully. And with that question, Johnny snaps back into his dominant position, guiding himself carefully into your pussy whilst still gently teasing your ass. He’s always gentle with you to ease you in, but you’re quite used to his size now so you push yourself back onto him. This catches him by surprise, clearly, as he lets out a tense moan and mutters “fuck you, y/n”. That was all he needed to know that he could take you harder, so he grabs your hips and fucks you, and you both moan together each time he pushes all the way into you.

You gasp for air, feeling johnny is now also moving his hand hard against your clit and driving you further and deeper into a blissful, well-deserved orgasm. You can feel the warmth of his precum, the extra lubrication heightening your senses as he doesn’t stop fucking you. “Fuck, y/n, I’m going to c- fuck, y/n, fuck” Johnny loses control of his words as he comes inside you, the feeling driving you to do the same, as your knees shake and you grasp onto the metal pipe that is stabilising your position. Johnny pulls out of you, and for a second stops to once again hold himself against you, feeling your hearts once again. But Johnny knows he doesn’t want to let you down, and he knows you haven’t finished yet. Within moments of his own orgasm, Johnny’s own lips hit your throbbing and sensitive clit, lapping up the sweet honey that you’re creating, and passionately licking and kissing around your clit. Your breath once again quickens as you feel yourself about to come - and John teases your ass again, just enough to send you over the edge. “Fuck, Johnny, there - yes, please Johnny”. “Sweet kitten, come for me” Johnny commands, and you come undone over his face, knees collapsing as your eyes roll back in bliss. He places steady kisses on your clit, your thighs, and up towards your nipples. He kisses your neck, past your ears, and finally places a kiss on your forehead. Right back where you started, you stand in the comfort of Johnny’s arms, under the stars.

You both stand there for a minute, breathless and warm, Johnny keeping you steady as your orgasm continues to pulsate gently through you. A tear rolls down your cheek as you think about how this can’t last for much longer - you know things are going to end one day. But you don’t want to lose a single part of Johnny, not as your boyfriend and especially not as your friend. You love him, and he loves you too.

“Y/n, shall we head back inside?” Johnny asks you, feeling you shivering from the cold nighttime air. His breath is warm, and his voice gentle and steady. “We should probably get some sleep”, he tells you. You shrug and hold him closer, but Johnny turns you around to head back inside. And when he does, standing there, right behind you and looking at the floor with a tear trailing down his cheek, is Ten.

Ah, fuck.

Read Part II here.

[muffindaddystyles]

Love Brings Patience.

A/N: Just an angsty "3am thoughts and listening to hozier while doing" it blurb. Enjoy!! ♡♡

It thunders outside loudly, but she didn’t flinch. The mass of blues and viridescent ivory painting the sky -- a call for rain, as when there’s blessed pour of shower after every winter sick – but it’s monsoon —- there’s none of the sympathy that these boofy clouds could slip into Y/N's pocket as she lays on her bed watching through the glass roof of the home ... they built together.

With so much, love, trust, faith and passion for eachother that anything in the world was unable to come between them – until it did.

Pinning against them and keeping them apart.

Everything will be okay, in the end. It’s not okay. It’s not the end.

It’s just beginning. Beginning to suffer alone and without him, his emotional and physical support, his cheery smile that’d race her heartbeat like chariots of Hades and his gentle need to saturate the distances between them wherever they’re, his loving gleamy eyes never skimming past her and he'd dot soft grateful kisses to her raspberry cheeks and kiss her temple as if she’s the goddess that resides in his home and it’d be a sin not to cherish her.

He loves too much. He did. He does. He loved her beyond everything that it killed him, he was sobbing that night – drenching the lilac carpeted floor with the water droplets dripping down and Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the roar of lightening against the creaky windows of their home or the feebleness of his voice that sobered her into dust.

“Been hurtin' ye'fo’ years .. by being away from you fo' months and coming back to just give y'memories and hopes for me early arrival —-.. what .. -- what kinda lover does that?” He hiccupped. His wet fringes didn’t let Y/N fetch him and dip her hand in his soul to touch it and tell him where he belongs, he always belonged to her – and your path is always destined to ones, who you belong to.

“-- ... makes ye' -m..m—makes you wait and takes the test of yer patience, like you’re not human –...” But, this isn’t what love brings? Wait and patience and sacrifice —- the yearn to have the love of your life in your embrace while you pace through the alleyway of airports.

Love brings patience.

“... darlin’ ye' deserve the same warmth of a body, same attention and love that everyone out there’s getting ..” His sniffles sharp and breathless as he pointed out the window to indicate the world and she doesn’t know how in just one night he became so silly, because her world is him — only him.

Her whisper came out broken, “And what about you?” Her caring question for him made him push the heels of his palms to his sockets and rub the stubborn fat tears away.

“It’s hurtin’ me to. Makes me not breath at nights, stayin' away from you -- ‘m never focusin’ –- ‘s just you, Always you in the pocket of me heart – the back of my mind —-- can’t escape it. My stupid stupid heart tries to see you in strangers faces ‘n —--... my arms pulls at cold sheets to get to your warmth but it never comes, whatever I do.” His chest tightened and it’s repeating the same shortness of breaths he used to get while crying to himself in those hotel rooms, the puffy lips gasping for oxygen and Y/N' was rushing towards him grabbing his jaw to inspect him but he’s slip shutting his eyes and gesturing her he’s okay.

Murmured sadly, “And lovie’ it hurts.” So, loving her hurts him? What kind of love is that? A piece of failure when it should be what they tell in fairy tales.

She failed him.

She was shuddering letting his hand slip from her sweaty palms when he stood up with a worn out sad face, head hung down with the burden of guilt and selfishness.

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore.” She was on her knees. Lips wobbled glum. She tugged on the bottom of his trousers crying dolefully without any word.

“Not wanting to hurt me by hurtin’ me more?” She cried hugging his leg and not letting it go.

His bestowed assertion made her shudder as he stepped away and to side, “I don’t w'na hurt us anymore.” His heart cracked and promised to him that it'll never heal up how much he'd beg later.

He was crying into his wrist leaving their apartment. Closing his ears with his palms to shut down the loud reckless sobs that echoed till hallway.

That cruel summer night still haunts her every moment and it’s been two weeks, and she wishes that he'll come running towards where she’s shrinking into the bed and jump over her as he used to —-- covering the little distance from the kitchen towards the bed and always made them bounce with the glee of his soft giggles.

How merciless could he be?

Leaving her alone in their home, where every piece of furniture holds his memory; the pink vinyl that’d play their favourite French songs, the squared tiles of their kitchen walls that he wrote different recipes over, the glassed roof through which they'd moon gaze snuggled into eachother and he'd be more happy to stroke her skin and love on the softness of it rather than the twinkle of stars – because he does it when he misses her, not when she’s right in his arms kissing his cheeks to happy affection, his cat who’s homesick because her momma is there or not – it’s not a much difference.

Everything is just ghosts of his memories making the edges of her heart bleed and cracking them dry.

She misses him. She misses him terribly and no day goes by without his thought swimming and tickling her mind.

Telephone rings. It keeps on ringing and she ignores it closing her eyes and tries to surrender herself to darkness of sleep, but then it kept on cutting through the tranquillity of their home and she’s plucking the yellow receiver and speaking something – embarrassed when her voice doesn’t even reach herself.

There’s loud annoyed groaning, vigorous disturbance and a high pitched squeaks before Mitch's monotone voice startles Y/N, “Can you please take him home? He's proper waffled .. broke his —-.. Harry! Can you sit down? Christ. Look you’re looking like a clown in front of all these nurses —-- Y/N?” He sighs and Y/N turns the curly wire around her finger out of anxiousness.

Fidgety on the tips of her toes.

“Where are you? Nurses? Broke? Is Harry okay? Tell me Mitch what’s happening!!?” She’s yelling into the receiver snatching the notepad when Mitch mutters grumpily, “Harry’s in hospital.”

Her heart drops to floor at that and she stares at her feet letting it sink before blinking the tears away and asking him for locations.

The time she reaches it starts raining and she covers herself with the cardigan she sneaked from his wardrobe to feel his presence, his scent and his brush of touch to her skin.

When she’s stumbling inside the rushy lobby filled with people waiting for their turn and her blurry gaze moves in every direction to find Harry sitting on the steel benches, wearing loose tailored curdory trousers and a baby blue sweater she knitted him as a gift for his birthday.

His apple-ish cheeks rosy and his button of nose scrunching up as he sits clumsily on the bench, poking Mitch's bum every other second to laugh at some kid who has his hand struck in a pot.

His own wrist bandaged up and around his neck, his pupils glassy foam and his condition dishevelled and ruffled up. It tears her up and she breathes in a sniffle – wiping her nose and padding towards him.

When his eyes rakes up a huge dimply smile is adorning his weary features and he’s waving her with limpy fingers shyly.

He’s drunk, drunk.

He pouts cherry-ly. Brows flinching together and he position himself straighter with Mitch's help when he takes in the dampness of her cheeks, “Why’re y'cryin' lovie’?” Darn that pet name. He slurs and his words mumbish.

“You’re hurt...” She points at his wrist. He looks down as it isn’t obvious and Mitch rolls his eyes, “Not hurt.” He shakes his head and when looks back up he’s grinning.

“Was just takin' hugeee steps downstairs -- ye'know me clumsiness and it’s kinda Mitchy's fault too ... told him to grab me tightly —-... ‘cos ‘m sensitive lil petal —--...” Y/N's biting down a snort at his squeaky high pitched voice and Mitch’s cutting him with thin smile.

“Been biting my ears off about you. How was I supposed to keep my balance when he clings to me so hard as if I’m summat his lover....” Y/N's eyes widen when Mitch grabs Harry from armpits and slinks his one arm around Y/N's shoulder as if Harry’s some parcel and he didn’t like it.

“Take him, home.” He mumbles and she stutters, “Wait ... hey! How? Mitch come back you mummy head.” She calls for him but he just walks away and Y/N’s left with no option but to take Harry with her.

“Be careful.” She whispers walking down the slope at exit of hospital with Harry clinged to her, “You came here on car?” She nudges his cheek with her shoulder but he just snuggles his face into the nook of her jaw.

“Mitch took it?” She groans. Swiping the rain droplets away from her forehead and steps behind under the shelter, “No ... it’s parked right here.” He mumbles against her sweet spot making her shiver and she makes them do a lil jog to the car and Harry’s giggling squeaking nonsense in her ear.

“Harry if y’refuse to leave me .....” She warns him trying to squirm out of his embrace as he sits in the passenger seat holding her so she sighs and tries to stick to more gentle coaxing way.

Shaky fingers gliding up his cheek to cup it and stroke the blue bags under his eyes, screaming that he having restless night for week now, “Petal if you don’t leave me how ‘m supposed to drive?” He gazes her peculiarly –- caressing her knuckles, stares his own motion and gives her the most puppy eyes that melts her on the spot, “Then hold me hand?” Now, could she say no to him? Never. She hates herself for it.

“’kay you could hold my –-- lemme —--... just --.. good boy.” She takes her hand out of his grip and pats his thigh before rushing to driver’s side.

She knows that how much he needs reassurances when he’s drunk and how much his love language of touching her peaks to sky.

She fulfils her promise and let him hold her hand, enjoying the little happiness because she knows it’s temporary and in the morning she'd be met by empty bed and hollow arms.

“I missed home.” He smiles wetly. Eyes closed as he stays on hugging her walking inside and whines when she squats down to untie his laces.

When she make him sit on the sofa and tries to leave for the kitchen, he’s lurching forward to grab her wrist and plead into her arm with moisture in his eyes, “No.No.No lovie' don’t go. Don’t go, pleaseeeee.......” She pets his sweaty curls kissing his forehead and murmurs against his hair while he loops his elbows lazily around her waist.

“Not going anywhere bub. Bringing you water.”

“No water. Just you. I missed you. Missed you so much. Missed you too much.” He’s rambling knuckling at his eyes and her belly fills with butterflies that flap till her heart and makes her feel woozy.

Though, she overcomes the bitter sweet feeling and brings him water how much he whined.

He has his hand planted softly at her thigh and gasps loudly and dramatically finishing the last droplet, and puckers his lips making funny noises against the rim of glass and she takes it away from him giggling, “’kay it's enough.”

He shuts his eyes for a moment and when opens them back it’s sea of pinks and the tears are shining at his waterline and he croaks out hoarsely, “Y/N ....?” Sobered up. He's feeling awful and in constant need to take her in his arms.

“Hmm?” She hums giving him a nervous smile and he straightens up taking both of her hands in his's, “I don’t want to be away from you anymore, darlin'. It’s worse than being temporarily away from ye'. Terrible. Terrible. I feel sick all the time as if there’s a dagger twisting into my heart ‘cos I know ‘m never fallin' in love with anyone except you ... but I don’t think you deserve me —.. I -- I —... I just think you —--- it’s killing me baby. Take me back please, baby take me back." He sniffs the tears and she’s crying with him; calling out his name and when he doesn’t listen she’s cradling his face delicately in her palms and making him look at her.

“Harry, my sweetheart. I love you. Isn’t that enough to assure you that I deserve you and only you – no one else.” He's blinking furiously and she bobs her head not flickering her loving gaze away from him.

“I love you too, will you take me back now? After what I did?” His insecurity and doubts about himself floating back.

“You left for best. Realised that we couldn’t live without eachother, didn’t you?” She pecks the corner of his lips and he leans in for a chaste kiss, their teeth clanking from smiling wide and happy and he giggles when she pushes herself off from him.

They crawl to their bed together and she flumps on his chest and he moans squeakily, “Ow.”

“Oh my, Har ....” She gasps. Shakes her head and flicks him on forehead when he grins bashfully.

“G'na take care of me?” His chin doubles over adorably as he tries to see her and brush her hair away.

“Gonna take care of you, petal” She patches a soft kiss to his chest and erupts into loud giggles when he teases her nonchalantly, “G'na help me wipe my arse.”

“Harry! Your other hand’s perfectly capable of wiping yourself clean!” He brings her closer with his uninjured hand and kisses her tenderly -- to show her all the love they missed on these few weeks.

“I love being home.” He murmurs into the kiss. Playing with her tresses round his nimble and traces kisses all over her face.

“Promise me you’re never doing silly again.” She pouts and he plucks at it – smooching a kiss to it later.

“Promise.” He tries to hook his bandaged pinky to her's and she laughs into his neck – shakes her head and kisses his cheek hugging him tightly.

[skzafterdusk]

kim seungmin + “I Love It”

This was requested from the Dean Title Track Prompt List I posted where you can pick an SKZ member and a song for a drabble fic

Word Count: 2.9k (idk if that’s considered drabble length)

Tag: kitchen sex, college!au, photographer!Seungmin

Summary: You and Seungmin rent a high-rise apartment for his birthday weekend. And, well, birthday sex...’nuff said.

You and your boyfriend checked into the apartment earlier this morning, wanting to spend some time together before he headed to the one class he had on Fridays. It was no burden to him, of course; an intermediate portrait photography course that he’s been so engrossed in.

But that only meant, shortly after you guys settled into your home for the weekend, Seungmin was pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaving you there alone.

You had taken painstaking care looking for the best apartment to rent, wanting something with tons of natural light that you and Seungmin got drunk on, but also a view of your fabulous city, Seoul. This was the gift you settled on for his 20th birthday which, unfortunately, fell on a weekday where both of you would be too busy with classes. 

The view, as you hoped, was incredibly lovely. From the wall of windows in the living room, you were able to see the sun as it continued to rise over the city. It was so calming, in fact, that you decided a nap would be in order after you took the time to unpack Seungmin’s and your stuff. The close you brought, the fruits and vegetables you washed, your favourite ground coffee sat next to the coffee machine.

It’s almost as if you guys actually lived there. Having a dream be a reality for so short of time could definitely be the spark to motivate you once you had to go back to the real world. 

And so, a couple hours later, you finally went to the bedroom, laying on top of the covers so as not to disturb anything too much, and allow the unfamiliar serenity of the new place lull you to much needed rest…

Maybe you’ve been slowly coming to for some time now, the room just as silent as it had been when you fell asleep. But even with your eyes closed, the presence of another life redistributes the quiet, makes an empty space feel more full.

And it’s the familiar sound of a light shutter that makes you blink until your eyes flutter open.

The room is much warmer than it had when you initially fell asleep. Even in the shadows of the bed frame, Seungmin seems to radiate the glow like the sun that is clearly setting from the windows behind you.

And, much like you had expected, Seungmin’s white camera is in his hands, a soft smile on his lips as he inspects the photo before looking up again.

He’s crouched down so your faces almost entirely leveled, close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice.

“You just looked so peaceful and beautiful,” he explains. “Wanna see it?”

You lift yourself onto your elbow so you can lean forward as he shows you the camera screen. And there’s a grin on your lips before you even notice.

Despite the subject, it’s still a wonderful composition, the sun a vibrant and warm orange spilling rays through the floor to ceiling walls behind the bed. The burst floats above your darker silhouette, but your relaxed features are still distinguishable.

“I love it,” you say. Your hand is already reaching for his face, wanting to kiss him while the serenity of the moment is still present.

You both drink in the moment, both are slow to press your lips to eachother’s and even slower to pull away.

“Happy Early Birthday, Minie.”

“What do you have planned for me this weekend?”

With that question, you readjust yourself, sitting up. Seungmin follows suit, coming to sit next to you on the bed while you explain the plan for the night.

“I figured we would cook our meal for tonight. So we’ll need to go to the market to buy meat. And we can get you a cake, as well.”

With the plan set, you both went about freshening up, Seungmin wanting to rid himself of the simple clothes he’d worn to university for the day, and you adding the smallest of makeup just to make yourself more put together.

Going to the market together reminded you of when you’d first started dating, Seungmin insisting on cooking for you because you were both young college students that didn’t have the means to always eat out. When you got back to his dorm, that was when you discovered that maybe his cooking skills relied more on ambition than technique. 

Even though it’s been a year and a half, it feels like so much has gone down since then. From sharing classes to being on opposite sides of campus, from late night study dates or photography adventures, you’ve grown to know Seungmin to a point where imagining him not in your life is kind of impossible.

“I’ll start prepping the vegetables,” he states matter-of-factly once you guys are back at the apartment. By now, the sun is further behind the city. You need to turn on the ceiling lights for proper illumination, and you’re seeing this space in a (literally) new light.

“Hey,” Seungmin calls to you, putting a hand on your elbow. You realize, then, that your mind had begun to wander, staring at your reflection in the window across the room. “What are you thinking about?”

It was a commonplace question for the two of you. Similar in the way that both of you tended to stay in your own heads, you both understood that all it took was a simple question to bring you back and converse with each other. You’d be lying if you hadn’t spent some nights just appreciating that aspect alone.

When you look at him, you smile wide, quickly popping up to kiss him on the jaw.

“I’m just really happy we met.” There is no other way to put it, even if it comes out bluntly. Even though the confessions of being in love with eachother have come and gone, it wasn’t common for you to just say those words. It was said in different ways; in the way he told you to worry about an assignment late and focus on yourself now, the way you asked him about whatever project he was working on in his photography class. Sometimes, like now, though, the words just need to be said as plainly and complex as they are.

“I love you.”

With his hand still on your arm, he pulls you into his chest. “I love you,” he repeats.

The moment passes easily and smoothly, and soon the kitchen is filled with a cacophony of sounds: meat sizzling in a pan, the overhead fan whirring to combat all the steam and smoke wafting the air. A jazz playlist blares from his phone on the island. Everything is so picture perfect, you think absently.

Seongmin must think this, as well, as he holds his camera up to his eye. You don’t even know when he retrieved it, but now he’s having a shoot of his own, taking shots that you can’t fathom look all that nice, but they’re endearing.

You turn the stove off as the meat finishes cooking, impatiently grabbing a piece to taste.

“Hey! Already starting without me?” teases Seungmin as he puts his camera down.

You scoff. “Head chef always gets to taste first.” At the playful pout on your boyfriend’s lips, concede easily. “But siux chef gets to taste, too.” And you feed him a piece he eagerly takes.

You don’t even bother taking the food over to the dining table, nor do you bother with using plates and dishes. Possibly you didn’t realize how hungry you both were, but there’s something so nice about just standing there, talking in between bites, laughing about random anecdotes.

“Is it time for birthday cake?” Despite phrasing it as a question, you’re already rounding towards the refrigerator where you’d put it once you got back from the store.

There’s arms suddenly wrapping around your waist, his chin hooking on your shoulder from behind.

“We have all weekend for cake. Kinda want you for dessert.”

Despite his words, you scrunch your nose up, looking at him awkwardly from where his face is. “Your reasoning is flawed, sir. You can have me all weekend, too.”

And, really, he shouldn’t look as adorable as he does when he raises his brows and widens his eyes. “Really? All weekend? It really must be my birthday.”

Your elbow is light to jab him from behind at his cheesy words. But he only gives enough room for you to turn in his hold. Your hands slide to rest on the back of his neck, your fingers having a mind of their own as they start to play with the hair there.

“And you ‘kinda’ want me? You’re gonna have to know for sure, Min,” you playfully reprimand. 

His eyes darken, smile falling from his lips. It’s an expression that commands attention, and you obey effortlessly.

“I’m still hungry, (Y/N),” he starts, his voice low. “How about I eat you, instead?”

You hum. “Cannibalism. Sexy.”

Luckily, he doesn’t pay much attention to your words, only swoops down to pull you into a heated kiss that leaves you breathless. He’s quick to lick his tongue along your bottom lip, dives in when given the slightest entry. Even though this is nowhere near your first time, your body always ignites with desire at how strong his passion drives him forward.

You lock your arms around his neck when his grip on your waist grows stronger, begging your body to be flushed against his. Pesky clothing aside, you can feel the heat of his body, the way his chest heaves with yearning for oxygen that comes as second priority to just consuming you.

But when he does break away, it’s to switch your positions, the island digging into your lower back as he goes back in. He tilts your head, licking into your mouth behind your teeth. He swallows the moan his actions illicit. They taste sweet going down, if it wasn’t obvious by the way he does it again and again.

You beg him softly. “Do something, please.” Sometimes he makes you impatient, makes you need him now. And just as you obey him, he never denies you what you want.

A normally gentle man turns quite wild, his hands heavy as they work to rid you of your shirt and bra. Your chin tucks into your shoulder while his lips trail down the other side, biting and kissing at your exposed skin. Your half-lidded eyes catch that reflection you admired earlier. The night now almost completely blackened with a sunless sky. Even though a world lives outside that window, all you can see is the scene it showcases.

You with your man buried in your neck, his fist clenched to the edge of the counter beside you.

Just as quickly, he brings you back to this moment in your own skin when he brings his lips back to yours. Now it’s your turn to work on his shirt, immediately going for his pants next. Without much fanfare, you wrap your hand around his hardening length, feeling a chill run down your spine at the harsh gruff it sparks from his throat.

“Later,” he says after some time of you languidly squeezing him up and down. “Worry about that later. Hop on the counter.”

You listen wordlessly, pulling yourself up until you’re sat on the edge of the surface. You start with your pants as Seungmin goes to a bag sitting on the floor next to you, where he pulls out a bottle of lube.

The moments slow, or maybe you’re just so focused on your boyfriend, but every move he takes, you register it in anticipation. Even as he fills your space, somehow crowds around you, you can hear the click of the bottle cap, 

What doesn’t cross your mind is how closely he’s watching you, as well. Surely, some of it is making sure that he takes care of you, but it’s also just because you can be much more expressive than you are verbal. And it’s so delicious to watch the way your brows twitch when he slides the first finger in, quickly following with the second. 

On some other nights, he’d take his time. Maybe you can save that for tomorrow, or when you make it to the bedroom for the night. Right now, however, his thumb is already on your clit, pleasure shooting through your nerves in the best way possible. It’s the type of pleasure that brews underneath the surface, and you can feel the way it bubbles up in your core.

He opens you nice, spreading his fingers inside you while rubbing circles on your bundle of nerves. When he curls his fingers inside, you jerk forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers carding into his strands and fisting there.

He groans at the way you clench around him, the way you feel so wound up. Should he let you cum now, with his fingers alone? 

“Cum, baby. Cum for me,” he whispers into your ear. You nod senselessly, feeling your walls fight to suck him in so you can never let him go.

When your orgasm finally comes, soft whimpers tremble from your open mouth. He removes his fingers slowly, knowing you’re still sensitive.

Slowly, you come to, sensing the world around you. The jazz music still lulls on, quiet sounds of brass and string instruments. 

But you don’t want to come down so soon. So you lift your head from where it rests on his shoulder. His gaze is still lustfilled, and your muscles jump, still wanting more.

“Fuck me, please?” It comes out as a question, though you both know it’s a given. One of your hands slither between your bodies, going back to your earlier action of stroking him. He’s already hard, and your mind drifts to the thought of him fucking you. 

In that moment you take over, mind still foggy from your orgasm. You fumble for the bottle of lube, unceremoniously putting some on your hand and wrapping it around his cock to slick him up.

With his eyes clenched shut, he rests his forehead against yours, taking a second to breathe before letting you guide him inside, taking him in entirely.

And your body never gets used to him, never gets used to how he seems to encompass you, makes you forget where your body ends and his begins. He must be magical to make you incoherent in this manner.

His thrusts start off slow and hard, almost like he’s savouring the feeling of you around him. And it’s tantalizing, the way his cock feels. Your body just wants to inhale him in any way possible. So you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer so he can just grind into you. The moan you let out is long and sweet to his ears, makes him want to hear more, taste more.

You kiss as best you can, one hand digging into your waist to keep you steady, while the other makes its way between your bodies. 

“Fuck, fuck-” you moan out at the feeling of his fingers rubbing at your clit. It’s painful the way the pleasure gets dragged through you again. But you love it, love the way it confuses your senses to the point that you can’t help but breathe out an airy laugh.

“(Y/N),” groans out Seungmin into your ear. “Shit you feel so good.”

His thrusts become irregular, and soon you find yourself trying to hold off, counting down the breaths until he finally cums, fucking into you so hard that you know you’ll be able to feel him.

And when that happens, your orgasm cums out through the trembles of your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He kisses you breathlessly as you both come down, still connected and basking in the moment of you intertwined.

When you pull back, you grin. “Happy Early Birthday,” you say again. You’re sure he’ll hear it a few times this weekend.

He smirks, finally pulling away. It always feels weird at first, to be empty. But he still remains close, and it’s enough.

“Happy, indeed.” His gaze stays on you, searching. 

It’s your turn to inquire, “What are you thinking about?”

He gives a heavy sigh, and you ready yourself for some heartfelt words that will sound incredibly cheesy.

“I think I want cake now.”

You shove his chest automatically, giggling just as he does. 

“How about we shower first. You never like the feeling of bodily fluids drying on you.”

He turns his nose up. “Why do you have to call them ‘bodily fluids’? That just sounds nasty.”

“Should I just say you need to clean your dick, then?”

Your legs feel like jelly when you slide down from the counter top, but you regain your strength quickly, walking back to the bathroom down the hall. Seungmin follows close behind, complaining about your phrasings.

When he grabs you from behind, your peripheral catches the reflection coming from the window in the bedroom. To feel so free in this way, you know this kind of life you could easily acclimate to. And just as you suspected, this is the plan for the future: to love him as he loves you, to be in your own world with him as everything around you keeps going.

Val’s Note:

Somehow this ended up being perfect timing since our Seungmin’s birthday is coming soon! It seems like the Seungmin smut tag is lacking, and I understand why. He’s normally just this adorable guy, even when he’s not meaning to be. But we’re not about to just fly by him during this era in particular??? Hello????

If you’d like to make a request for the Dean Title Track fic, you can do so, here!

[horrorslashergirl]

Polyamorous Slasher 18+

You know the saying “Why settle for one when you can have two?”

First off, what is Polyamory? The practice of, or desire for, intimate relationships with more than one partner, with the consent of all partners involved.

I think we all slasher fans thought of the possibility of been between two dangerous man with a desire to kill. Of course we do! These are some of my favorites Poly!Slashers.

Chromeskull and The Collector

Ahh yes, my favorite Poly if I do say so myself. It’s funny how this two got no conection what so ever, but in our fandom they ended up together. Sadistic, brutal, with a sense of humor, maybe? These two work like clockwork, not to mention that undeniable attraction between this two hunks of men.

Talk about very dirty dreams with this two because if I have to compare their style of killing with their attitude in the bedroom...Ohoho booooy...Talk about a twisted, bloody Christian Grey way, but with more knifes.

Me, personaly I have a weakness for pegging and the thought of getting this two bend over and taking them from behind is basicaly food for brain. Bonus points if you are just the watcher, seeing this two fuck eachothers brain out.

Best thing about this two Poly is that these two killers can disguise themselfs in plain sight. Unlike other slashers these two lead on normal lifes; they go to job, pay their bills, own a car. You name it.

Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees

Two giants, one playing hard to get, the other such a baby. I know, weird combination, but you know what they say. Opposite attracts. What is the best about this Poly is that Jason will give up first, for your sake, not Michaels.

Michael is a stubborn asshole who isn’t one to care much. Don’t expect the cuddly stuff from him. If you want rough manhandling or you are up for some steamy, against the wall sex, well that’s Michaels style. Jason is so much of a baby, or gentleman considering how big he is. Jason will do the aftercare and giving you sweet ol’ loving.

They are smart. Michael knows how to drive, Jason will do the hard-working chores along the house. You are pretty much settled with these two. The hard part is when you have to stop their fighting.

Usually happens when Michael bullies you and Jasons protective father like figure comes out.

Brahms Heelshire and Billy Lenz

I hope you got lots of patience and a mother like attitude, because this two gremlins are tiering and will give you a headache, not to mention how bratty they are.

Brahms was thought to act like a gentleman, despite his brutal killer attitude, while Billy is basically feral and will cuss the living daylights out of you. You will do everything in the house; cook, clean etc. They will help, if you can get in charge and that happens if you can make them feel like children. Be that strict mother who spanks the death out of their asses.

In the bedroom, it can be quit messy and a lot of tangled sheets. They don’t care where they finish or how hard they get with you. They are feral brats who chase their own pleasure.

They might show their gratitude on the aftercare, if they don’t end up on the floor fighting.

The Sinclair Twins (Bo and Vincent)

Talk about opposite poles, but yes nothing is better than this two brothers taking care of you, Bo’s pretty rough and aggressive and Vincent so gentle and caring. Rough fucking with Bo then sweet, sensual sex with Vincent? Hell yes!

It’s a pretty tiering rollercoster with this two, because lets face it, they need a lovable little thing and you might be just up their league.

You are their muse, baby, especially to Vincent. The hardest part is to put up with Bo’s bipolar personality, but hey, no work no gain.

One for two Ghostface (Billy Loomis and Stu Macher)

Another two slashers who are hiding in plain sight. The original Ghostfaces are the best. The one way too serious for his own good, the other a goofy joker. It is always fun with this too, and I am not talking about sweaty hardcore killer roleplay.

Horror movies, netflix and getting drunk. Perfect way to spend the weekend and always exciting.

This two can be pretty jealous of eachother, and sharing goes fine until one gets too touchy, but that’s why you need to reconcile both sides.

So, what other Poly!Slashers do you have in mind?

[sleepingrenjun]

nervous | ML

the gorgeous banner was made by the one and only @hyuckiebabie

Genre ♡ angst, badboy!Mark Lee 

Length ♡ 16.9k

Pairing ♡ Mark Lee x reader

Warnings ♡ character death, violence, making out, mild swearing, mild alcohol consumption, kinda mafia, uhh shitty parents? Basically just angsty badboy!Mark, it’s rather tragic I do apologise.

Playlist ♡ nervous playlist

Summary ♡ You find yourself falling deeper and deeper into Mark’s fiery touch despite the dislike you once felt for him. But Mark Lee is dangerous and nefarious despite his gentle desire to love and protect you; the two of you are star-crossed and you will forever be damned into the very pits of hell.

-

Your clothes were beginning to stick to your skin, the rain blurring each and every neon sign into one big mess of colour against the onyx canopy of the sky above the city. The faint sound of cars screeching along distant streets could only just be heard over the music blaring through your earphones. You stumbled ever so slightly against the sudden outcry of wind as you rounded a corner and looked up through your lashes to see the refreshingly familiar street which housed your favourite late night coffee shop. You looked down again in order to give your cloudy eyes a break, eyeing your slightly scuffed, and now very soggy converse as you trudged a little further until you made it to the door of your beloved safe haven.

 You used your right shoulder to help you push the heavy door open, relieved to see that the lights were still on. You pulled your earphones out, shoving them into your tote bag unceremoniously.  

 “Oh hey, y/n,” you looked up to see Donghyuck smiling sleepily at you from his position behind the counter as he raised his golden hand in a small wave.

 “Hi Hyuck,” you threw a lopsided smile in his direction before carefully drying the soles of your shoes on the mat which lay before you.

 “It’s a little late for you, is everything okay?”

 “Yeah, yeah, I just got caught up with uni work, I guess,” you tell him as you take your phone out of your soaking wet hoodie pocket, before tapping on the screen, thus confirming that it was indeed later than you had realised, 10:53pm. He hummed in understanding as he continued to steam-clean the tea cups which sat on the polished granite in front of him.

 Donghyuck studied at the same university as you and so he understood that sometimes the workload would cause you to spend hours on end in the dusty, old university library situated on the top floor of the main building. His major was in English literature, and if he wasn’t in the coffee shop working then he could often be found studying with his nose buried deep in a coffee-stained book with his exhausted round glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Donghyuck was lovely, in every sense of the word. His strawberry blonde hair looked gorgeous against his honey-stained skin. He was warm and flamboyant and just, quite simply, alluring. His raspberry-stained lips were soft and full, just as his cheeks were. Donghyuck was the type to wear tight black jeans paired with an eccentric, ill-fitting jumper and a pair of beaten up doc martens, yet he wore it so well.

 You weren’t exactly friends, but you had a sort of routine. You confided in eachother more often than you liked to admit, but only inside the safe environment of his workplace, you didn’t really speak at any other time. Every Thursday, without fail, you would stop by to order a latte from the lonely coffee shop that he worked at. You were studying fine art, which meant you had to spend a lot of time at the university, whether it was using the studios for various workshops, or losing yourself in copious amounts of books in the library in order to help you write extended essay after extended essay. With that said, it was usually between 7 and 8pm when you stopped by to order your coffee on your way home, hence Donghyucks concern.

 “The usual?” he spoke up after a moment of tranquility.

 “Mmm, please,” you hummed in response as you fiddled with the slippery metal of the rings on your fingers while you waited for the coffee you had been looking forward to for several hours prior. You took out your money and left the correct amount by the till and then proceeded to make your way quietly over to your usual round table before flopping down languidly, the table was situated by the window, allowing you to watch the world outside go by peacefully as you tapped your nails along the surface of your phone screen restlessly.

 The coffee shop was warm and cozy, the smell of coffee beans welcoming anyone into the glowing space. Your weekly visits were something that you looked forward to now, although you did sometimes make an appearance at other times, Saturdays, for example. Occasionally you popped in for a cup of tea in the morning and engaged in polite conversation with Taeyong, the owner of the place. Taeyong was delightful, in a different way to Donghyuck, though. He was sharper and had a witty sense of humour to match the bubblegum shade of his hair. He was kind and wise beyond his years and so much more – but you didn’t have the same unspoken understanding with him that you had with Hyuck. Perhaps that’s why you looked forward to Thursdays, Donghyuck understood you without even trying, as did you with him.

 Donghyuck slid the disposable cup onto the table in front of you, snapping you out of your daze.

 “Thanks,” you smiled up at him before you realised that he was, in fact, now sitting opposite you at the table, with a coffee of his own in hand.

 “What’s on your mind, princess?” he asked you with a cheeky smile as he leaned back into the chair before sipping a little of his coffee. You chuckled at the nickname and hummed as you thought of how to reply.

 “I’m just exhausted, Hyuck,” you said as you let your head flop softly onto the rough wooden surface of the table before closing your eyes gently.

“Uni deadlines are exasperating; my parents are driving me mad and I just really need to sleep” you breathed out drowsily as you peered up at the boy through half closed eyes.

 “Yeah, I feel the same. Uni has me really stressed too,” he cupped his steaming coffee with both hands and leaned across the table, “what’s up with your parents, though?” he squinted at you, genuine curiosity adorning his friendly face.

 “Just the usual, you know,” you sighed after taking a long gulp of coffee, not feeling up to explaining everything to him at 11pm on a Thursday. Donghyuck vaguely knew about your relationship with your parents, if you could even call it that, although you liked to avoid bringing your friends into that side of your life; you weren’t proud of it.

 “Care to elaborate, princess?“ Your reply was soon cut off by the sound of the front door opening suddenly and the fierceness of the storm outside immediately filled the peaceful room, the sound of the ‘open’ sign hitting against the wall alerting you to the fact that you were no longer alone in the coffee shop.

 You looked up in surprise and proceeded to try to fix your composure at the realization that the person who had entered the premises was none other than Donghyucks best friend; Mark Lee. The two were polar opposites. While Donghyuck was late nights by a crackling fire and cups of steaming hot chocolate, lazy afternoons spent surrounded by blankets and makeshift pillow-forts and summer evenings spent reading during the golden hour. Mark Lee was everything that Donghyucks general aura protested against – he was burning hot embers and cigarettes, sunrises and motorbikes screeching along empty streets at 4am. Mark Lee was cold yet hotheaded and harsh and a lot to take in. You had only seen him from a distance, picking Donghyuck up from the university on the back of his bike. The two were so different but they were the best of friends and it baffled you.  

 “Hyuck, what the fuck is taking you so long? Let’s go-,” he voiced as he ran his hand through his damp hair and shook his head a little, completely ignoring your presence. He was clearly irked about something, his eyes were dark, black almost, and he was clutching his bike helmet under his arm tightly. Hyuck looked across the room to the vintage clock which was perched just above the coffee machine behind the counter, before muttering a profanity to himself and looking up at you with apologetic eyes.

 “Shit sorry y/n, I completely forgot, I was meant to close up 10 minutes ago,” it was nearing 11:15pm now.

 “Oh yeah, it’s fine, I should probably get back home anyways” you offered in acceptance before tearing your eyes away from the two boys in front of you to look out of the window at the storm you would have to brave once more. Mark cleared his throat as he made eye contact with you for the first time,

 “are you two done now or…?”

 Mark opened the door, a subtle hint that he was leaving and that Donghyuck should hurry up if he wanted to accompany him to wherever the two were off to at this hour. You scoffed as you took in his appearance, his damp, jet black hair was falling into his eyes in soft curls, his tanned skin was wet, and the neon yellow hoodie he wore under his signature leather jacket had darkened by at least two shades from the rain, as had the black skinny jeans which were tightly clinging to his legs.

 “Will you be okay to get home?” Hyuck asked you as he turned off the coffee machine and motioned towards the door with a light tilt of his head. You nodded and replied with a “yeah” as you swiftly picked up your takeaway coffee cup and headed out the door which mark hadn’t managed to hold open for you. Hyuck followed you out after turning the lights off and grabbing his own helmet, locking the doors behind you. You nodded towards Donghyuck, turning away from the boys you clutched your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm as you walked in the direction of your shared apartment.

 “See you, y/n.”

 You turned your head and waved in return at Donghyuck who was smiling at you as he put his jet-black helmet on whilst he leaned on the back of Marks motorcycle. Mark offered you a smirk as he took a long drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the floor and putting out the glowing stick with a swift movement of his foot, his tattered black converse catching your eye. You continued forward in the torrential rain and not a minute later you could hear the revving of the engine as Mark and Donghyuck pulled away and sped past you, Mark deliberately not avoiding the growing pool of floodwater on the street next to you, splashing dirty water at you in the process. “Fucking fantastic,” you groaned in exasperation.

 -

 It was the following Tuesday when you next saw Donghyuck with his best friend in tow. You were packing up your things after a long day in the library, sneezing and sniffling every so often; you had managed to catch a rather bad cold after walking home in the pouring rain last Thursday. You had just turned around after placing your last book in your beaten-up bag when you heard Donghyucks contagious laughter coming from your left, he and Mark were walking towards you and away from a small group of three boys you often saw Hyuck hanging around with between classes, you weren’t sure of their names. Mark was once again holding on tightly to his helmet as he mumbled something to the velvety boy beside him and ran his other hand through his disheveled hair.

 You fished your phone out of your pocket and turned it off airplane mode before stuffing it back into your pocket and looking up, just in time to hear your name being spoken from a few feet away.

 “Hey! y/n!”, Donghyuck exclaimed, looking surprised to see you, “you got home okay then? On Thursday?” he queried, stopping before you, causing Mark to roll his eyes at his friends genuine concern.

 “Yeah thanks, Hyuck. What are you guys doing here?” you chuckled in reply, it wasn’t unusual for you to greet him in the library as you both spent a fair bit of time there, Marks appearance, however, was a little less common.

 He was obviously there to pick Donghyuck up, probably just to take him home or to a party or something; what was unusual was that he didn’t usually come inside. If you ever saw him at the university, he would be leaning against the outside wall, by the doors, often holding a cigarette in one hand and his phone in the other. He was a couple of years older than you, only a year older than Donghyuck, and although you knew that he had graduated from the same institution that you attended, you didn’t know what his major was, not that you particularly cared. Your train of thought was interrupted by Donghyucks reply,

 “Oh, Mark just needed to talk to Jaemin about something,” he gestured towards his friend, who was clearly already bored with your conversation.

 Just as you were about to speak, your phone started ringing. You took a deep breath once you saw the caller ID, before picking it up and holding it to your ear.

 “Dad?” you breathed out, his timing could not have been worse. You had a complicated relationship with your parents; your father was controlling to say the least, and it frustrated you to no end.

 “So, you finally decided to pick up the phone then?”, he greeted you harshly. “I’m sorry, I’m in the library, my phone was off,” you offered him an apology, hoping it would suffice. You looked down at your shoes and wrapped your free hand around your waist, turning away from the two boys who were waiting patiently before you, hoping to gain some privacy for what would most likely not be an enjoyable conversation with your father.

 “You’re always sorry, it’s not good enough y/n,” he complained, “anyway, I called because I need to ask a favour from you.” He only ever called you when he needed something, and he certainly wasn’t one for pleasantries, he always found a way to try and make you feel bad about yourself – although you’d grown a sort of immunity to it now that you knew what he was trying to do. You remained silent, signaling for him to go on, “your mother and I are hosting a dinner party tonight” you place your hand on the back of the chair in front of you, “and we expect you to attend, can you be at the hotel for 7pm?”

 Your grip on the chair tightened to the point that your knuckles were beginning to turn white, you looked at your watch and groaned softly so that he wouldn’t hear, it was already 6:47pm. “Dad I don’t think-“ you started, knowing perfectly well that you wouldn’t be there on time – it was nearly a 40 minute walk to your parents’ hotel from the library.

 “Great! See you then, don’t be late!” he cut you off, not allowing you the time to tell him that you wouldn’t make it for 7 before he ended the call. “Jesus Christ,” you exclaimed as you let your iron grip on the chair go, moving the same hand to push your hair out of your face.

 “Is everything okay?” you turned around to see Donghyuck and Mark both staring at you in confusion.

 Your parents frustrated you a lot. They could never be bothered to make time for you but the second they had the opportunity to use you to their advantage, they would milk it. Your father loved to patronize you and put you down while your mother loved to brag about all the wonderful things you were supposedly doing, she loved to make you sound like their perfect child, when really, they were nothing but disappointed in you. They were disappointed in your art major and disappointed that you chose not to intern at your fathers’ company – you wanted as little to do with his illegal activities as possible - so disappointed that they actually felt the need to lie about practically everything you did.

 “Oh, yeah I just-,” you paused, trying to clear your head and come up with a way of fixing the mess you were about to get into, “sorry but I have to go, I have to be somewhere in like 10 minutes and it’s a 40 minute walk so-,” you rushed out, panicking as you grabbed your bag, flung it over your shoulder and proceeded to walk quickly down the hall towards the staircase. You didn’t make it very far however, as Donghyuck managed to grab your wrist and turn you around.

 “Hey, wait!” he exhaled deeply, “do you need a lift? Mark can give you a lift, right?” he suggested, turning to his friend in question.

 Mark looked as horrified as you felt at the thought of being perched on the back of his bike, “yeah, not happening,” he exclaimed, “she doesn’t even have a helmet or anything-” Donghyuck cut him off by thrusting his own helmet into your arms unceremoniously “now she does!” he retorted cheekily, throwing a smug smile in Marks direction.

 “No, Hyuck really-” you started, the idea of being in such close proximity to the stranger not sitting right in your stomach.

 “Donghyuck, what the fuck?” Mark exclaimed in obvious annoyance at the lively boy who had seemingly already made the decision for you both as he sauntered off down the hall, leaving you alone with his best friend.

 -

 Mark didn’t speak to you as you made your way down the stairs side by side. You felt your heartbeat speed up as you walked through the automatic doors and saw the back of his motorcycle come into view. The model was sleek and rather elegant, the matte black of the main body suited Marks nefarious persona perfectly and the egg-yolk yellow accents made it all the more beautifully daunting.

 “Ever ridden a bike before?” Mark exhaled at you, already knowing the answer to his foolish question.

 You shook your head, “I haven’t. But you already knew that”.

 Mark nodded his head in response before putting his helmet on and climbing onto the bike in front of you. You mirrored his actions and secured Donghyucks helmet into place with shaky hands; the jet-black helmet was a little big for you, but you managed to fight against the strap until it was tight enough that you felt somewhat protected. You shuffled into the small space behind Mark and had barely just lifted your feet off the ground when he revved the engine and kicked off, sending you surging forward into his firm back in order to not fall off.

 Mark snickered at your immediate reaction, “you might want to hold on, sweetheart,” he told you in amusement as he turned his head towards you slightly. “I’m gonna need directions,” he announced as he turned back to the road and pulled out of the university car park, the sudden acceleration encouraging you to grab onto his shoulders firmly in an attempt to balance yourself.

 “Yeah, okay. Continue down here for a bit and then take a left just before the gym.” You instructed as you assessed the road before you.

 “Alright,” he responded casually, veering off to the right to overtake a car, causing you to stiffen even more.

 Sitting on the back of Marks bike was rather unnerving, but it was also thrilling and rather freeing. You could feel the wind in your hair and you were able to let yourself go a little. You closed your eyes for a moment and embraced the carelessness you felt bubbling up in your stomach; if your parents ever found out that you’d been on the back of a boys motorbike they would be livid, but in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You leant forward and informed Mark about the next turn he needed to make, to which he responded with an okay and as if sensing your sudden carefree nature, he applied a sudden pump of pressure on the gas and sped up even more. He was trying to scare you, to irritate you, and it was working. The wind in your hair suddenly felt too cold, too loud, and the traffic surrounding you too fast.

 “Mark,” you warned him as you moved your hands from his shoulders to wrap them tightly around his waist. “Hey, slow down!” you shouted in his ear once you realised that he wasn’t letting up.

 “Relax, baby. You’re alright,” he chuckled over his shoulder, sounding completely unbothered.

 You tightened your grip around him and closed your eyes as you tried to calm down, no longer finding the experience enjoyable. You could feel the soft flesh of his toned stomach through his shirt; the vibrations of Marks laughter as he felt your grip tighten and your forehead press softly into his shoulder. He was warm and deadly and you could feel your hot blood rushing through your veins. You breathed him in slowly; his aroma was cigarette smoke and peppermint; his shirt stained with the faint scent of his cologne and cinnamon. You hated to admit it, but Mark Lee smelled heavenly despite being the embodiment of Hades himself, and it was intoxicating.

 “Sweetheart, you need to look so you can direct me,” he said blatantly, you opened your eyes briefly before closing them again with a shake of your head.

“Take the next right and then pull up on the left just before the hotel,” you breathed out.

 Mark was soon slowing to a halt and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding in. “Thank fuck that’s over” you exclaimed before releasing your grip around the devilish boy in front of you, feeling slightly embarrassed that you’d been holding him so tightly. You swiftly removed your helmet and thrust it into Marks arms with a mumbled thank you before turning on your heel and heading towards the front door of the building. You faintly heard Mark calling your name, but you weren’t really listening as when you reached the door you felt your stomach drop, your dad was waiting for you and he was furious.

 Ten minutes later, you were seated next to your mother and opposite to your father, you were trying to settle the growing pit of nerves in your stomach as you knew you would be confronted by your dad soon enough. Around an hour into the meal, one of your parents’ guests decided to ask your mum about how you were getting on at uni, they were trying to make polite conversation, although your mothers response irked you rather.

 “She’s doing great! She’s loving her classes, aren’t you honey?” she directed at you with a knowing look in her eye. You simply nodded and replied a polite “yes, it’s great.”

 The same guest then went on to ask what it was you were studying, to which your parents simultaneously responded with ‘law’, as if rehearsed, which it most likely was. You knew your parents had never been happy with your decision to study fine art, and you couldn’t say you were surprised to hear that they were lying about your major, but it pissed you off, nevertheless. You clenched a fist underneath the table as they continued to brag about how well you were supposedly doing at law school. The evening continued like that for the next hour; your parents telling their ‘business partners’ about all the achievements you had made and how proud of you they were. Your family was built on a mound of lies.

 You knew that they were careful about what they told you about their business, but you were alert enough to be aware of the fact that the deals they made were not what might be expected of a typical hotel chain. They lied in front of you to try and cover the illegal activity that was going on, and while you weren’t entirely sure what that involved, you had an idea.

 Your parents walked with you to the entrance of the hotel when the dreadful dinner party was over, and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming.

 “You’ll never guess how our y/n arrived here earlier, love.” Your dad gestured to you while speaking to your mum.

 You looked down at your feet and fiddled with the hem of your jumper in anticipation. Your dad was business suits and stainless steel while your mother was sterile surfaces and fake smiles and you hated it, you hated them and the stupid lifestyle they had dragged you into. Nothing about it was real, nothing about it was fair.

 “She arrived on the back of a boy’s motorcycle,” he informed her with disgust evident in the tone of his voice, his facial expression unsettlingly straight. Your mother gasped in horror and you had to hold back from rolling your eyes at her dramatic reaction. “y/n what the hell were you thinking?” she asked you with a raised voice, anger evident.

 “I needed a ride, it’s a forty-minute walk otherwise!” you responded honestly. You weren’t going to let them manipulate you into apologizing to them.

 “Imagine what the guests would have thought if they’d seen you arrive in such a bedraggled way!” she screeched at you, to which you just responded with a shrug; not having the energy to argue with her.

 “You will reply when your mother addresses you, y/n.” Your father seethed through his teeth at you, anger taking over his stout features. You turned away from them in an attempt at getting away from their suffocating presence, talking back to them was not going to get you anywhere. But before you could walk through the now half open door, he grabbed onto your wrist harshly, “if you pull another stunt like this, there will be consequences, y/n, and stay away from that boy, he’s bad news.” He spat the coarse words into your left ear no louder than a whisper.

 You could feel your eyes beginning to water a little, “don’t touch me.” You breathed bitterly before yanking your wrist out of his forceful grip and slamming the glass door behind you.

 You finally let yourself go once you were outside, the tears flowing freely and silently down your cheeks. You were tired, exhausted even, of trying to mask how much their actions hurt you. Nobody at your university had a clue, not your roommate, Lisa, none of your art class acquaintances, not even Donghyuck, who you often found yourself confiding in when things got a bit too much and you found yourself on the verge of a breakdown.

 You were looking forward to getting home, your apartment was cozy and warm and just what you needed after dealing with your exasperating family. Your parents had bought you a 2 bed flat on the top floor of a crumbling apartment building, which you had the pleasure of choosing. After being brought up in a mansion-like house that didn’t even look lived in, you opted for something small and homely so that you weren’t rattling around in it. Two weeks after moving in, it still felt a little empty to you and so you advertised for a roommate – that was when Lisa came into your life. The two of you had your differences but you loved each other, you supposed she was probably your best friend, not that you were one to give people titles. Lisa was away on a two-week trip to Florence with a few of the people from her major, meaning you had the place to yourself; you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

 “Dinner party went well then?”

 You turned around and were met with the sight of Mark leaning against the wall next to the door of the hotel, he was somewhat hidden from view, his dark clothes melting in to the ebony of the sky. He held a cigarette between his lips and a lighter in his left hand, he took a long, slow drag before plucking it from his lips with his free hand and blowing the smoke in your direction.

 You stifled a cough and rolled your eyes at his actions before continuing in the direction of your apartment, “why are you still here, Mark?” you asked him as you lifted a hand to wipe the tears away from your rosy cheeks, curious as to why he’d hung around for you.

“I thought you’d want a ride home,” he shrugged as he caught up with you, lifting the cigarette again and this time leaving it hanging from his pink lips, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

 “The last thing I need is for my parents to see me on the back of your fucking bike, again.”

 Mark chuckled dryly in response, “did your dad give you a hard time?” he cooed, clearly finding your upset state funny. When you didn’t show any signs of amusement, his cheeky smile turned into something more sincere.

 “I heard what they said to you, you know,” he gave you a pitiful look, “I’m sorry that they treat you like that.”

 You raised your eyebrows and bit back a laugh, “cut the crap, Mark.” He looked a little taken-aback by your curt response, giving you a questioning look as he slowed to a stop beside you. “Don’t act like you suddenly care,” you sighed at his obliviousness, turning to face him.

 Mark Lee was not known for his kindness, caring nature. He was known for being cold and troublesome, he was like a snake; constantly shedding his skin and becoming a different version of himself. One minute he was dangerous and sinful and all things devilish and red, yet the next, he was soft like the feathery wings of an angel with kind eyes; and it was impossible to tell which version of himself he would present to you each time you met.

 You looked at him, really looked at him and took in his appearance. His soft dark hair was falling in his eyes with a slight parting in the middle, his sun-kissed skin rich and deep under the soft, golden light of the street lights you were bathing in. Your gaze fell to his cherry-stained lips and to the glowing stick he held between them, soft clouds of smoke occasionally leaving his lips as he exhaled. The heartbreaking truth was that Mark was attractive, you found him attractive and you didn’t know how to stop the way your breath hitched when you looked into his dark eyes. He was looking at you, observing you in the same way you had been observing him, and it was unnerving. His eyes flitted between your own and your lips briefly before he pulled his gaze away from you and towards the now-familiar motorbike which was sat just a few feet away from where you were stood.

 “Come on, let me take you home.”

 You didn’t talk to Mark as he drove you home aside from directing him to your apartment, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. You were exhausted, and you found yourself feeling a little numb as you clutched Marks waist tightly and pressed a cheek into his back as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to think about your father seeing you on the back of Marks bike. If he saw you, then so be it. You were utterly sick to your stomach of the way they pried and warped you into what they thought was the perfect child, the child that their fellow businessmen and women would want to hear about. They objectified you and they underestimated you and it royally pissed you off.

 You found yourself almost enjoying the feeling of betraying them, perhaps you’d take it up as a hobby. Perhaps you’d befriend Mark just to get under their skin, you’d undoubtedly relish in that feeling if you were a little more like the boy who you currently had wrapped in your tight embrace. But you weren’t like that, you were good and caring and you had so much love to give yet nobody to give it to. You couldn’t intentionally play someone like that, it wasn’t within your capability, nor was it your true desire. You didn’t want to use Mark, no matter how perfect it would be or how much it would irritate your parents. So, you pushed your delirious thoughts aside and tightened your hold on Mark as if to thank him for not asking too many questions or rubbing in your ill-fated situation. In response you felt a tight squeeze on your left thigh as he reached back to comfort you subtly, and that was all that was needed for you to begin to feel a little better.

 Mark pulled up outside your apartment building after what felt like forever. You heaved your heavy body off the padded seat behind him, your worn shoes scuffing against the edge of the pavement as you did so, causing you to stumble forward briefly before a strong hand gripped at your waist and pulled you back. You turned around at the sudden feeling of Marks arm wrapping around you, only to notice that you were standing a lot closer to the raven-haired boy than you’d anticipated. He had leaned off his bike a little in order to reach you and you now found yourself brushing up against his jean clad thigh.

 “Easy there, princess,” you could feel his hot breath on your cotton-candy stained cheeks and you struggled to appropriately place your gaze. You’d never been this close to him, face to face anyway, and you found it unsurprisingly intimidating. You observed and noticed his perfectly placed eyebrow piercing, the two silver balls gleaming even in the dark of the night. Marks eyes were deep and dark, black almost, a heavenly contrast to his honey-stained skin. They were half lidded and verging on sultry as he blinked and brought his eyes to meet with yours, his tongue briefly darting out to wet his lips before he gently brought the hand which wasn’t wrapped around your waist up to eye level. He hesitated briefly before he lifted his hand and started to unfasten the strap on the helmet you had borrowed from Donghyuck, “here, let me get that-”.

 Your breath caught in your throat as his hand brushed against your soft skin, the rough texture of his calloused hands contradicting your own smooth, milky complexion. You looked into his eyes as they were concentrated on removing the heavy helmet; he looked so innocent like this, so pure and refined. It was almost like the fire inside him had been dampened momentarily and the ice around his heart was beginning to melt, of course that wouldn’t last. You knew that the next time you saw him, it would be like this hadn’t happened. He would go back to smirking at you or blanking you entirely. It would have been a moment of utter serenity if it weren’t for your caged heart beating at ninety to the dozen inside your chest. You were nervous. Mark made you nervous.

 Once he’d lifted the helmet off, he realised he was still holding you and quickly moved his hand from your waist to rub the back of his neck, you became suddenly all too aware of your close proximity and took a small step back, clearing your throat and crossing your arms in the process. He roughly planted said helmet into your arms with an “I’ll see you around” before he kicked off and left you standing by the side of the road, looking a little flustered.

 Needless to say, the second your head hit your pillow that night, you were out like a light.

 -

 You entered the coffee shop two days later, Thursday, at your normal time of 7:15pm. Only this time you had more of a purpose; you, of course, were looking forward to your latte, but you had also brought Donghyucks helmet since Mark had left it with you.

 “Donghyuck!” you greeted the familiar face as you made your way towards his position behind the counter. “Here” you lifted the heavy black helmet onto the counter for him to take. He thanked you as he took it from you and went to put it in the back room.

You took the chance to look around the room, noticing a few familiar faces, mostly students huddled over their laptops or buried in a pile of dog-eared books. You spotted your usual round table and smiled at the site of the empty chair sat by it. You would soon be just like most of the other customers in the coffee shop, head down and engulfed in a heap of Gustav Klimt books, your chosen artist for this semester.

 “Hey, have you seen Mark around?” you were brought out of your thoughts by the return of the radiant boy in front of you, who was now busying himself with making your coffee.

 “Not since Tuesday, why?”

 “I haven’t seen him since then either, he normally drops me off for my shift today, but he didn’t show,” he replied sounding a little concerned for his troublesome friend. “I’m sure it’s nothing,” you hummed in response.

 You thanked Donghyuck with a warm smile as you paid him for your coffee before taking it over to your table and getting your notebook and a couple of books out of your scruffy bag. The next hour went by relatively quickly, you alternated between writing notes and actually annotating the books in front of you; you had a bad habit of defacing books. Whether it was folding pages or actually drawing on the pristine pages, you enjoyed making them look used and a little haggard.

 You had been so engrossed in your work that you hadn’t noticed Mark’s brief appearance in the cozy coffee shop, he was only present for about 30 seconds before Donghyuck excused himself and stepped outside to talk to his friend. You had your head down when you left through the heavy doors, you weren’t listening as they hushed their conversation at the sight of you, and you didn’t notice when Mark, who was sporting a bruised cheek and a bloody lip, cast his gaze over to you from behind his friends’ shoulder.

 You were living in your head as you walked home that evening, thinking up your future, where you wanted to live, and what you wanted to be doing. You’d just decided that you liked the idea of settling in Paris or somewhere similar when you felt the first sign of rain hit your cheek. You cursed to yourself as you pulled your hood up over your head in an attempt to shelter yourself from the inevitable downpour. You were never prepared when it rained, you usually just wore a hoodie and jeans to uni and you had never got into the habit of carrying a jacket or an umbrella around, you should probably change that, though; it rained a lot in your city.

 Not even two minutes after the rain started, you heard the screeching of tires on the wet road as a familiar looking bike skidded to a stop alongside where you were walking.

 “y/n get on!” Mark yelled over the deafening downpour surrounding you, taking his helmet off as you jogged over to him.

 You weren’t sure why you decided to listen to him, especially after he tried to scare you the last time. Perhaps it was because you knew you’d be home in a fraction of the time if he took you, walking would be at least another twenty minutes. Or maybe part of you actually liked the idea; somewhere deep down in the burning embers of your soul, you quite enjoyed the cryptic boys’ presence. He was everything you had stayed away from up until now, and although you would never admit it aloud, you found yourself reveling in the risk of it all.

 You tried to refuse his helmet, saying that he needed it more, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Just put the damn thing on,” he argued, only moving off once you were sat behind him with his helmet sat snugly on your head.

 Your arms curled around him in the same way you had recently become accustomed to. He was soaked through to the bone and cold, so cold, it seemed Mark wasn’t one for dressing according to the weather either. While you were at least wearing a hoodie, he was only wearing a t-shirt, a white one at that. His muscular back suddenly became painstakingly obvious through his soaked shirt and you tried to focus on the road ahead as you rested your chin on his left shoulder.

 Not even 10 minutes later, you had arrived at your apartment building.

 You jumped off the bike as soon as it had stopped moving, keen to get inside and rid yourself of your drenched clothes as soon as possible; a hot shower sounded absolutely wonderful right now. You expressed your thanks and looked up at Mark to return his helmet to him once you’d wrestled to get your wet hair untangled from the strap, only to see that he had his head hung low and turned away from you.

 “Hey, Mark?” he hummed in response, seeming somewhat distracted. “You good?”

 “Huh? Yeah, I should really go-”

 “Why won’t you look at me?” you hesitantly reach across and hear a sharp intake of breath from him when you grip at his jaw, turning his head to face you for the first time that night. Your breathing faltered at the sight of his black and blue cheekbone and your eyes scanned the rest of his face to discover that his lip was also rather swollen and coated with dry blood.

 “Mark…” you whispered as you ghosted your hand over the tender skin, blinking down at him as his hand gripped at your wrist.

 “It’s fine, y/n,” he gritted his teeth, still not looking up at you.

 “Who did this to you?” you thumbed at his puffy lip gently, the question more rhetorical than anything else.  

 You had never seen the boy before you look so worn out. In fact, you weren’t sure if you had ever witnessed someone being hurt like this before. You blinked twice and moved your hand away from him in order to brush your own disheveled hair out of your eyelashes as you realised that the rain was only becoming heavier.

 “Come inside,” you said unexpectedly, surprising both yourself and the bloodied boy sat before you. You tugged at his sleeve, “just let me help you, as a thank you of sorts”.

 “I really shouldn’t, I-,” you didn’t let him finish, you instead found yourself dragging him away from his beloved black and yellow bike and into shelter.

 He followed you up the stairs until you were on the top floor, you had your key in one hand and his bike helmet in the other. He didn’t speak as you walked up the five flights of stairs, the only sounds were your sopping wet shoes squelching each time you took a step and the shaky breathing coming from the pair of you.

 You stepped into your small apartment with Mark in tow, switching on the lights as soon as you were in the door. You placed your stuff down alongside Marks helmet on the long wooden coffee table in your little living room before disappearing into Lisa’s room to find something for Mark to change out of his wet clothes into. When you walked back into the living room, he was still standing there, hands clasped together and rocking back and forth on his toes lightly.

 “Here, I think this stuff should fit you.”

 Lisa sometimes had boys over, usually they were just one-off flings but sometimes they’d come often enough that she had managed to accumulate a growing pile of their clothes. You’d found a pair of loose black shorts and a large light-grey hoodie that looked around Marks size.

 You directed him to the bathroom so he could change, before turning to your own room and stripping off your drenched clothes, changing into a pair of sweats and a loose fitting shirt as quickly as you could. You grabbed some wet cotton wool and a bag of frozen peas to help take down the swelling, you didn’t have a first aid kit in your apartment, so this would have to suffice. You found Mark sitting on your sofa when you returned, his head leaning on one of his hands whilst he texted someone on his phone with the other. He heard your fluffy sock-clad feed padding against the hard wood floor as you neared him, looking up and instantly turning his phone off and placing it next to him once he realised you had reappeared.

 You knelt down in front of him, placing the frozen bag on the floor beside you and turning your attention to the injured boy.

 “Stay still,” you could feel Marks eyes following your every move. You dabbed at his wounded lip, trying to help take the edge off the sting he must be feeling. You steadied yourself by placing your free hand on his shoulder, causing him to turn his attention to you rather than whatever he found so interesting behind you.

 “Where’d you get the clothes from?” he gestured to the hoodie he was now wearing.

 “Oh, they’re from Lisa’s- my roommate’s ex, I think,” he nodded at your reply.

 “Don’t move,” you whispered as you held his head still and wiped away the remainder of the blood. “It’s not like they’d be from my ex, given that I don’t have one. Or a current boyfriend, for that matter.” Your weak attempt at a joke fell flat as you suddenly realised the implications of what you had just said. Your eyes grew wide, “that was stupid, I don’t know why I said that. I just-”

 Your ramblings were cut short when Mark gripped your arm and took the bloody cotton wool from your hand, dropping it to the floor while keeping his half-lidded gaze on you. He moved your hand to hover just above his heart, resting it there. You kept your eyes on his hand as it covered yours, not daring to look up at him for fear that you may crumble. You felt like putty in his hands and all he was doing was touching your hand. Your face flushed as your hands began to tremble subtly.

 “Do you feel that?” you did. You could feel his heart beating rapidly, just as yours was. “Baby?”

 You dragged your eyes up to meet his and nodded delicately as you let yourself tug at his hoodie a bit, trying to cease the nerves rising up from the pit of your stomach to the very tips of your fingers. Mark lowered his head until his forehead was brushing against yours from his elevated position on the sofa. You could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke coming from his lips, which were now barely three inches from yours.

“What are you-,” he rubbed his nose against yours and murmured a barely-there “shh,” as his eyes fluttered shut.

 Mark pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips and moved his soft grip from your hand to angle your face up towards him, bringing his other hand up to cup your jaw before moving to plant a slow peck on your plump lips. “y/n?” you hummed when he pulled back a couple of inches, keeping your eyes closed. You didn’t want him to stop and you hated yourself for it. You tugged at his hoodie again, hoping he would understand your signal for him to continue. You didn’t have confidence in words, opting to not say anything and instead moving your left hand up further to reach the nape of his neck, pulling him into you.

 The feeling of having another’s lips pressed against yours was unfamiliar and yet, strangely addictive. Your breathing was getting heavier in sync with his as he left long, drawn out kisses on your lips, alternating between your bottom lip and your top. You found the angle was getting a little awkward and so, with the help of Mark, you sat up on your knees, only staying like that for a moment before you found yourself situated on his lap with your legs on either side of him.

He barely paused for breath before capturing your lips again, this time prodding at your entrance with his slick tongue. The sensation was effortless with him, your lips slotting together over and over again with such ease and precision. His tongue massaged against yours as he relocated his calloused hands to rest around your waist, squeezing the soft flesh as your shirt rode up slightly.

 You let out a soft whimper as his cold hands touched your hot skin and you threaded your fingers through the damp locks of hair at the back of his head, your other hand clenching and unclenching, taking fistfuls of his hoodie as you tried to make the feelings in your chest evaporate. The air was hot and sticky, and you gasped into each-others open mouths, you couldn’t get enough of him.

 Kissing Mark Lee made you feel more alive than you had ever thought possible, it was both heavenly and sinful, and he took all your breath away as if it was nothing. He tasted sweet and smoky and he was enthralling for he was the devils incarnate, yet the most celestial being you had ever laid eyes on. You hated him, you wanted to hate him. But he was radiant and god-like and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, for Mark Lee was magnetic and you will forever be drawn to his sacrilegious self.

 You were panting and breathless as you took his lower lip between your teeth and looked into his amorous eyes, but he winced, and you found yourself pulling away from his swollen lips as a coppery taste lathered your tongue. You were flush against him; your immediate proximity making you blush, given the circumstances. “Sorry, I forgot- about your lip I mean,” you stammered out, feeling rather flustered.

 “I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” Mark leant forward to press his lips to yours again messily as he dragged his hands along your thighs, he couldn’t seem to sit still.

 “Mark,” you tried to pull away again, you knew he was using this situation as a distraction. He hummed as he ran one hand up your side until he was cupping your jaw, trailing his wet lips down the side of your neck. “Mark, stop.” You said firmly just as he nipped softly at the flesh under your ear, pushing him tenderly by his shoulders until he was far enough that you could look at him properly.

 “Did I do something?”, his panicked eyes searched your own for an answer.

 You sighed, “no,” as you slid off his lap and made yourself comfortable on the sofa next to him. “I just- why?”

 “Why what, baby?”

 “What did you do to deserve this?” you asked him tenderly as you crossed your legs and turned to face him, tracing your fingers from his harsh eyebrow piercing to the soft skin of his cheekbone. Under the soft light of the lamps in your living room his bruises were faint and indistinct, but they were still there. The black and blue painted on his skin somehow looked pretty, it was a deep contrast to his normal warm tone, but it didn’t exactly look bad – just sore.

 “Can we not talk about this, please?” he groaned as he dropped his head into his hands.

 “Just tell me what happened!” You argued, your voice raised a little in exasperation. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to talk to you about it. Everyone knew about Marks reputation, he was known for sporting the odd black eye and not holding his tongue when he should. But as you were sat next to him, you realised that you didn’t actually know why.

 “I can’t-“

 “You can, please-”

 “No, you’re staying out of this y/n,” Marks voice was deep and hoarse as he spoke loudly to you, letting you know that his decision was final.

 “Why won’t you talk to me? Doesn’t this mean anything to you?” you breathed out, as you covered your face with your hands in frustration, letting your elbows rest on your knees, you looked up at the boy before you. “Is this an act of pity or something? Did you only come in because you felt sorry for me?”

 “What? No I-,” his phone ringing cut him off before he could speak further. Mark cursed once he saw who was calling him, “I’m sorry, I have to go, I’ll see you around.” He grabbed his stuff from the table before rushing out the door to answer the phone, leaving you alone and bathing in the now strangely silent room to process everything that had just happened.

 -

  “So, tell me about Florence!”

 Lisa was finally home from her time in Italy, and she’d somehow managed to persuade you that catching up over a drink or two was a good idea. You’d never been the type to drink to get drunk, not that you hadn’t been drunk; it just didn’t happen very often. You were more of a coffee lover, that’s where you and Lisa were different. While you would spend your free time slaving over a book with a steaming mug of coffee, she would spend hers sharing secrets with strangers over a bottle of beer.  You supposed your dynamic wasn’t so different to Donghyuck and Mark, like earth versus fire, air versus water; you were somewhat dependent on eachother, the perfect contradiction.

 “It was incredible, the architecture was phenomenal, as was the art and gosh you would’ve loved the culture!” She gushed excitedly after taking a long gulp of her fruity cocktail.

 If you didn’t know her personally, you might have been jealous of Lisa. Upfront, she seemed unmistakably perfect, her hair was thick and shiny, her skin was clear, and she flourished in social settings. But you did know her, well enough to know that her happy exterior wasn’t always genuine and that she too found life to be rather stressful at times, she was just better at relieving that stress than you were; hence her tendency to party and pick up boys every now and then.

 The two of you talked back and forth about her time in Florence and your time without her, although you failed to mention anything involving Mark, the last thing you needed was Lisa breathing down your neck about something that you weren’t entirely sure about yourself. She raved about the museums and galleries she’d visited and made sure to recite each and every individual piece of art that she’d enjoyed; yes, you were jealous. You were jealous of her freedom and you were jealous of her carefree nature, you wished you could be like that. Perhaps if it weren’t for your family, you would be a little more like Lisa. You thought back to a few days prior when you were sitting behind Mark, clinging to him tightly as the two of you rode through the rain; that was the most unburdened you had felt in a long time.

 You were snapped out of your train of thought by Lisa standing up from her seat next to you at the bar, “I’ll be back in a minute,” she signaled to the bathroom before traipsing away from you, leaving you with your thoughts and a half empty glass of vodka and lemonade.  

 As you waited you found yourself casting your gaze around the busy room; the bar seemed to be teeming with students like you, apart from the odd older guy. You spent a lot of your time observing people and their actions, it was almost like a hobby, being a bystander. There were booths filled with youngsters, chanting and laughing and having the time of their lives, there were bar stools filled with friends downing shots and getting plastered, and then there was you. You, who would rather be at home, curled up and watching a movie with a bowl of shitty popcorn. So, when you were approached by a sleazy looking man who seemed to be rather under the influence, you were somewhat bewildered.

 “Two shots for this lovely lady and I!” He hollered to the barman over the blaring music as he gestured roughly towards you. He reeked of alcohol and sweat, a rather nasty combination which could absolutely not be considered attractive.

 “Oh, no I was just leaving-”

 “C’mon, just one drink!” he interrupted you, sending a ratty smile in your direction.

 “No really, I’d rather not” you raised yourself off the tall stool you had been perched on, reaching for your bag as you desperately tried to remove yourself from the situation. This was why you didn’t like going out, you were terrified of exactly what appeared to be happening right now. You felt vulnerable as soon as he appeared next to you, your instincts quickly telling you that the man before you was bad news.

 He grabbed your wrist firmly, making you wince at the abrupt action. “Don’t touch me,” you seethed as you tried to pry away his painful grip on your wrist.

 “You’re a fair handful,” he slurred as he moved closer to you, moving his other hand to clutch around your waist under your shirt, making you feel uneasy. You could feel tears of panic begin to sting at the corner of your eyes as you looked around frantically in exasperation at the fact that nobody seemed to be aware of what was going on. He pressed himself against you and you were struggling to get away from him as you felt him begin to trail his hand to your backside.

 “Get your fucking hands off her,” a familiar voice threatened from beside you, although you couldn’t quite figure out who it belonged to.

 He didn’t comply. You felt sick.

 He was suddenly ripped away from you as a large hand grasped at the neck of his shirt and a swift punch was thrown, and then another two. “I warned you,” your eyes widened at the scene which was playing out before you.

 “Mark, stop!” you shouted as soon as you recognised the dark mop of hair that you were now well-acquainted with. Of course, he didn’t listen to you.

 The drunk man tried to retaliate but was soon rendered defenseless as he took one final hit to the face and staggered backwards with blood dripping down his chin, “sorry man, didn’t realise she was yours,” he laughed as he spat blood onto the floor and disappeared into the crowd.

 You looked away from the man who was swaying away from you and, sure enough, standing before you was Mark Lee in all his grandeur. He was dressed from head to toe in black and his bruised cheek was mostly faded now, barely visible unless you were really looking for it. His knuckles looked red and sore as he splayed his hand out to check for any broken skin.

 Your devilish savior ignored his distasteful comment as he diverted his attention to you, “are you alright?”

 You shook your head, “I just need to get out of here”. You felt claustrophobic, like you couldn’t breathe. And, god, you were itching to shower and scrub off the feeling of that man’s grimy hands on your body.

 You pulled your gaze away from Mark for a second, just long enough to see Lisa walking your way from the bathroom. “Y/n? What’s going on?” she asked as she looked between you and Mark, who was standing so close that you could feel his hot breath on your neck.

 She undoubtedly knew who Mark was, everybody at your university did. He was striking in both appearance and in demeanor, although not always for the right reasons. And so, she would most likely be wondering what someone like him would be doing speaking to someone like you. The two of you were so drastically different; if he was the devil then you were the purest sinner to walk this earth. He was dripping in warning signs, he radiated bad news, yet you found yourself being drawn to him like a moth to a flame, and it would appear that he too found himself unable to shake you from his mind.

 “Nothing, it’s fine.”

 “Why is he here?” she nodded to the boy standing behind you, sending you a look of questioning.

 You heard Mark scoff under his breath as you glanced round to him, trying to think up an excuse to leave the bar that wouldn’t lead to a lengthy conversation with Lisa later.

 “Something came up, I’m sorry. I can’t stay,” you offered her with pleading eyes, praying she would understand your need to leave, even if she didn’t know the reason behind it.

 “Alright, be safe,” she responded with a sigh and a quick hug, and with that, you turned on your heel and walked quickly out the door.

 You could feel Marks presence behind you as you walked along the pavement with your head hung low, your feet dragging and scuffing along the stone as you sifted through the multitude of thoughts that had gathered in your head. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence for a while, you breathed in the cold city air and exhaled heavily through your mouth as you tilted your head to gaze up at the dark sky which was faintly painted with the warm glow of the city lights.

 You could breathe clearly out in the fresh air, the sticky heat of the bar finally cooling on your skin; it wasn’t a particularly nice feeling but it was better than being coated in the sensation of a strangers touch.

 Your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your trance-like state, you reached into your pocket and fished it out, stopping dead in your tracks as you read the message on your lit-up screen.

 [dad]

One of my business associates just saw you leaving a bar with that boy, remember what I told you, y/n.

 You rushed to turn around as you looked back along the long stretch of street in search of someone looking at the two of you, but you saw no one. You were nearing the canal just to the west of the city centre and the street lighting was limited, not giving you the best view of the road you’d just walked down. Mark looked at you in confusion as he lifted his hands to rest on your shoulders and looked into your fiery eyes, “is everything okay?”

 You shook your head and shrugged off his hold on you, already beginning to walk again, more hurriedly this time. “You have to leave, Mark,” you told him firmly as you breathed in shakily.

 “What, why?” he questioned as he crept up beside you, easily matching your determined stride.

 “Please just- it’s for your own safety, I can’t be seen with you,” you told him truthfully, knowing that it sounded a little harsh. Your dad was, however, a powerful man, and you didn’t doubt for a second that he would do whatever he deemed necessary to get what he wanted; and if he wanted you to stop seeing Mark, then he would not hesitate to dispose of him in some way. All for his stupid business and riches. All your parents seemed to care about was their reputation, as long as their names, yours included, were untarnished, the company would keep raking in stacks of money and numerous money-making deals. And they would do whatever they had to, get rid of whoever they had to, in order to keep it that way. They’d been like this for as long as you could remember and there was no part of you that would ever be able to challenge your father’s threats. Because that’s what they were; threats. And he meant every word that he said.

 “Y/n, what the hell are you talking about? If this is about the bar or the other night then I’m sorry I-,” he shut up when you turned to face him once more and gripped both his hands in yours, lacing them together intimately. His brows furrowed as he looked down to your interlaced fingers and then back up to your eyes.

 “Please, Mark.”

 “I don’t understand?”

 You sighed up at the dangerous boy before you, trying to think of an appropriate way of telling him that your father probably wanted to kill him just for being near you. “My dad doesn’t – he doesn’t like you”

 “Your dad? I haven’t ever met him, though?” his face twists as he processes the information, struggling to fathom how your father could possibly have an opinion on someone who he’d never even spoken to before.

 “That doesn’t matter, you don’t exactly-,” you paused and chewed at your bottom lip, tilting your head to look at your feet and lowering your voice to a whisper, “- have the best reputation.”

 He squeezed your intertwined hands comfortingly as he sighed, dragging your hands up to rest around his neck gently before circling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

 Mark wasn’t particularly proud of his not-so-perfect character, he knew that people talked about him, he knew that he didn’t do himself any favours by consistently sporting some form of bruising or blemish and getting himself into fights. But Mark was soft, too. He had a heart of gold when it mattered; he was like the purest form of oxygen in a smoky room, he never failed to show his good side when his loved ones were in need.

 “I’m not all bad, you know, princess” he chuckled soothingly, his breath tickling against your face.  

 Your fingers played with the soft tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, “I don’t want you to get hurt-,” you started, stopping to think quickly. You weren’t sure where these feelings were coming from. You’d barely known Mark until a couple of weeks ago, the two of you having never payed eachother any great amount of attention before, but Donghyuck had introduced him into your life and now you couldn’t seem to shake him from your mind.

 “-because for some reason, I care about whether you get hurt or not,” you laughed breathlessly, rolling your eyes as you looked up to the sky once more, perhaps searching for the answers to all the questions swimming around in your head at the moment.

 “Can I kiss you?”

 You shook your head, chuckling nervously at his question, it was so very Mark. He managed to completely ignore your concern, instead opting to act on his own thoughts. “Have you listened to anything I’ve said?” you said in exasperation, feeling somewhat frustrated.

 “Yes, I have, but I don’t care, y/n. I’m not going to leave, your dad doesn’t scare me, and you make my heart beat far faster than I’d ever care to admit - I know you feel it too. So please, y/n, let me just have this,” he pulled you closer by your waist as he let himself wear his heart on his sleeve momentarily, pleadingly looking into your eyes.

 “He’ll kill you, you know,” you warned faintly.

 “I can take care of myself.”

 “I know I just- I think you’re underestimating this. He’s powerful and he warned me to stay away from you. Hell, you barely even know me, Mark, I’m really not worth this-,” you gasped as you felt one of his large hands squeeze your waist and he used the opportunity to shut you up completely, mumbling a soft “stop talking,” before pressing his lips to yours in one swift motion.

 You stayed like that for a moment, your body flushed against Marks chest as he held you tightly to him, as if he were afraid that you would disappear if he wasn’t too careful. He soon pulled back just far enough to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed. You admired his dark lashes fluttering against his satin skin and the way his lips were full and wet from your kiss, he was breathtaking. You couldn’t deny your attraction to him, your heart practically begging to be released from its cage whenever he was close to you like this; he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

 “This is dangerous,” you whispered, encouraging him to open his doe eyes as he parted his lips a little in thought.

 “You look so good right now, I just- I can’t,” he stumbled over his words, his voice breaking under your gaze. “God, I like you so much.”

 You would have giggled at how he sounded like a schoolboy if he hadn’t kissed you again, gliding his right hand up your body until he was cupping your velvety skin and pulling you closer still. He kissed you with so much feeling and emotion, you barely recognised him as the boy you had first met anymore. His cold, harsh exterior completely melting away under your gentle touch. He let himself groan as you kissed him back with just as much ardour, letting your tongue gently pry his lips apart as you tried to convey your feelings for him. You let yourself momentarily forget the posing threat from your dad, enjoying Marks successful attempt at distracting you from it.

 His touch was fiery-hot, his hands leaving a burning trail in their wake as he touched you delicately, as though you were a doll who might break if you fell into the wrong hands. He pulled away once more and grasped your hand in his before leading you away from the canal and towards his home.

 -

 Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of a hushed voice nearby, propping yourself up with one hand and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with the other. You blinked groggily several times before you managed to keep your eyes open for long enough to sit up with your legs dangling off the side of the unfamiliar mattress, the cool air of the room making your hairs stand on end. You looked down at your cold legs and noticed that you were only wearing an oversized shirt with your underwear – the shirt, you recalled, was Mark’s.

 He’d brought you back home with him last night, you didn’t really feel like going home and explaining the events of the night to Lisa. Your brain was still half asleep and hazy as you tried to recall all that had happened yesterday; you could remember Mark offering to sleep on the sofa, but you also recounted that you’d asked him if he could stay with you, his presence alone helping you feel at-ease. He made sure to keep his distance, to keep to his side of the bed, even if he was itching to reach across the sea of sheets to hold you. He made you feel warm and safe and at-ease and that scared you a little – how quickly he’d earned your trust, if that’s what you could call it.

 You couldn’t make out the muffled voice coming from next door, but you imagined he was probably just on the phone to someone. You stifled a yawn as you reached for your phone, which had been thrown onto the carpeted floor by the mattress in haste before you knocked out fast asleep last night. The time was only just gone 7am, you wondered who Mark could be speaking to this early, a friend possibly? A parent? It was when you thought about things like this that you realised just how little you really knew about him. You knew that he liked living more dangerously than most, that he had an unhealthy love for driving his motorcycle too fast, too late, and too often, you also knew of his friendship with Donghyuck; but after that, you struggled to find anything you could add to the list. You barely knew the boy.

 “Sorry, did I wake you?” he called from the doorway, startling you out of your tired thoughts. You looked up and felt the air leave your lungs as you saw him; he looked ethereal. He was leaning with his left shoulder against the flakily-painted frame, his navy-blue hoodie was too big and his honey-coloured collarbones were only half hidden by the drooping neck of his bed-attire. His boxers were fitted to his thighs and you had to pull your gaze away to stop the inevitable blush that would otherwise creep up your neck. He’d probably already noticed your staring, anyway.

 “Yeah, but it’s okay,” you said groggily as you stretched your arms back to relieve your aching shoulder-blades – you must have slept on them funny.

 You made the effort to stand up but were swiftly turned back around as Mark placed his warm hand on the small of your back and guided you back to the plush mess of bedding and blankets. You lay back down on your side, with your head facing the door and your back to Marks side of the bed. The sheets smelled of him, you realised. A little musky perhaps, like cinnamon and spice. His aroma was warm and comforting as you pulled the duvet up to rest just beneath your chin to try and keep out the chill of the room, your hands clasping together just below the covers. You felt the bed dip as he sunk into the pillows beside you, his breathing was shallow and yet you could somehow still just make it out over the quiet sounds of the city outside waking up.

 “Do you mind if I- can I lay with you?” he asked you, sounding unusually shy, although maybe it was just his lack of sleep.

 “You lay with me last night, Mark” you chuckled.

 “No, I mean-,” he cut himself off, shuffling around behind you until you felt his arm reach around your waist tenderly. His chest was radiating his body heat, just a couple of centimeters from touching yours. “Like this,” he whispered in your ear, softly pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear as he grasped your clasped hands in his blindly.

 “Oh” you replied, barely there. He made your brain go mushy and you were still so tired, having not gone to sleep until late. You wiggled yourself backwards a little, just enough so that you could feel his heartbeat on your clothed back as arm tightened around you. “Let’s just stay like this forever, it’s so nice,” you murmured, letting your eyes fall shut as you basked in Marks warm embrace.

 A few hours later, you find yourself back in your apartment. You’re nestled into the warmth of your sofa with your legs tucked into your chest and a pillow hugged tight to your chest. Lisa was sat next to you, in an equally relaxed position, her fluffy socks tickling at your side faintly.

 “He gave you a ride? Twice? On his bike?” she repeated fragments of what you’d told her back to you. You’d told her more than that, but her eyes grew wide the second you had mentioned Marks name. You nodded in response, “yes?”

 She breathed out heavily, “he’s hot too, do you know what you’re getting into?” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you laugh and throw the pillow you were hugging at her. She shrugged, “hey! I’m just saying, the attractive ones always cause the most trouble”.

 You didn’t reply, instead you placed your head in your hands and lulled to the side, looking up at her and sighing like a lovesick puppy. “I really like him, Lisa,” you mumbled, the atmosphere turning more serious, “I just don’t wanna get hurt”.

 “You have to see past that. Live a little, y/n, let yourself loose for a bit,” she told you. You knew that she was probably right, and that she was only encouraging you to do what she knew best. It was easy for Lisa to say that, she was renowned for her extroverted, care-free personality, and you did sometimes envy that. But maybe it was time to take a leaf from her book, you didn’t know what would happen with Mark, you just knew that there was a strong connection between you two that you couldn’t ignore anymore. You couldn’t keep fighting against it. No matter how much you willed yourself to hate him, you never could. He was so much softer than you thought, there was more substance to him.

 He was bright and full and carefree, almost the exact opposite to you. He was a little similar to Lisa, actually, just more devious. More devilish. You could see that his harsh front was beginning to melt around you, though. You seemed to have some kind of effect on him, and he hated that. You loved it. You found yourself wanting to get to know the boy hidden beneath all those layers of toughened-up skin. “Maybe I will,” you replied, with a knowing smile on your face.

 -

 Your lips parted as you panted, out of breath as you pulled back for air, throwing a quick glance to your buzzing phone, signaling yet another call from your father; you ignored it. Marks lips trailed lazily down your neck as he kissed faint flowering bruises into your soft skin, his teeth occasionally nipping and biting at the juncture of your neck. You closed your eyes in bliss and threaded your fingers through his curly, raven hair, tugging at it to signal your enjoyment.

 Your father had been texting you and leaving you voicemail messages frequently over the past week. At first you were concerned for Marks safety, but it seemed that his threats were empty as nothing had come of them yet. And so, you found yourself seated in Marks lap for the third time that week. He let out a low groan as you tugged at his hair once more and shifted slightly in his lap, “stop moving, baby,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist tightly as he squeezed you into his embrace.

 A knock at the door of Marks small, one-bed apartment stilled the pair of you. He lifted his head up to look at you with a cheeky smile, “what?” you looked down at him with wide eyes.

 “You’ll see,” he replied as he placed a soft kiss on your plump lips before picking you up off his lap and placing you down on the warm blanket-covered sofa, you crossed your legs and looked up to him in anticipation.

 He padded over to the front door, just out of your line of sight, you heard him open the door and engage in conversation with the visitor. You glanced around the room and took in your surroundings, observing, as you always did. You’d been in Marks apartment two or three times by now, he seemed to keep it relatively clean, everything seemed to have its place.  You squinted as you noticed a sliver of silver on the bookshelf in the corner of the room, it seemed to be an expensive looking watch, a rolex, perhaps. It looked to be of that sort of style. You wondered briefly how Mark would come by such an expensive watch but didn’t think much of it, perhaps it was a family heirloom?

 Your gaze trailed down as you noticed a hard, black case protruding from its space under the shelf. It didn’t look like a briefcase, in fact it looked to be rather heavy-duty and you wondered what on earth Mark would have one for, you’d only ever seen things like that when people were housing weapons or something similar. You knew this because your father liked to keep cases full of handguns around your house, not that you were supposed to know, you were merely a curious child who went snooping where you shouldn’t have.

 “Hey, so pepperoni or cheese?” you snapped your gaze from the case over to Mark who was just emerging from the hallway to the front door, two greasy pizza boxes in hand. A warm smile lit up your face as the delicious smell of pizza filled the room, “you ordered pizza?”

 “Yeah, I figured you’d be hungry, you do like pizza, right?”

 “Of course,” you hummed, shuffling over to make room for Mark to sit next to you.

 You spent the next two hours sharing the food between you and talking, laughing like normal youngsters should. It felt good to finally be in each other’s company without watching your back or worrying about the future. You had the television on in the background, it was playing an old black and white film that you weren’t really paying attention to, and you felt at home.

 Mark placed the empty boxes on the coffee table once you’d finished with them, pulling you into him and tangling his legs with yours as you rested your head on his chest and listened to his quickened heartbeat. “What do you do? You know, when you’re not causing trouble”

 He visibly tensed at your question and looked away from you as he thought of what to reply “I work for a company, just running errands. It’s nothing special,” he shrugged, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You mind if I smoke?” you shook your head.

 “That sounds a bit boring,” you yawned into his chest, feeling the vibrations of his chest as he let out a soft laugh. He leaned over you momentarily to reach for his pack of cigarettes before leaning back again and fishing his lighter from his pocket.

 “Yeah, I guess it is,” he replied as he caught a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter up to encase the stick in a flame, leaving behind a glowing tip. He took a long drag, letting his eyes flutter shut in bliss for a second before blowing the smoke out, angling his head up so as to not blow it in your direction.

 “Why don’t you quit?” you coughed a little, fanning away the smoke that had snaked its way down to you.

 “Smoking or work?”

 “Work,” you chuckled, glancing up at him and tracing a finger along his jawline. Admiring the way his jaw flexed as he exhaled another plume of smoke.

“It pays well”

 “You get paid well for running errands?” you raised an eyebrow at him, not quite believing his reasoning.

 “Yes?”

 Before you can say anything else, Marks phone rings from its place on the floor by the empty pizza boxes. “Shit I better get that-,” he lifted the cigarette from his lips and stubbed it out in the ashtray on the table after taking a final, lengthy drag from the glowing stick.

 “It’s okay, I should probably head home anyway,” you cut him off, it was getting late and you didn’t plan on staying the night, you had a 9am lecture the next morning.

 “Alright, baby. Get home safe,” he stood up, pulling you up with him and pulling you in to press a peck on your supple lips, and then another slightly more drawn out kiss before you dragged yourself away from him, not wanting to get carried away. He tasted like wispy smoke and peppermint again and you could so easily get lost in his lips, the effort to pull away proving to be gallant.

 “I’ll see you later,” you blushed up at him, fiddling with the sleeves of your jumper. You turned your back and walked towards the exit, hearing him pick up his phone and answer the incessant ringing. His voice was muffled through the thin wall of his main corridor, and although you knew it was wrong, you found yourself listening.

 “Hey, Sicheng. What’s up?”

 “No, not yet. Hey, can we talk about this later? Now’s not a good time, man.”

 You could picture Mark furrowing his brows in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, smiling softly to yourself as you slipped on your shoes.

 “Yeah, y/n just left, actually”

 “Yes, Sicheng. I know”

 “I’ll do it soon, I swear”

 Your ears perked up at the mention of your name and you suddenly felt like you were invading his privacy by staying and listening to this conversation. You didn’t feel comfortable hearing information you probably shouldn’t have been privy to. And so, you slipped out of Marks warm apartment as quietly as you could and walked home at a brisk pace, eager to jump into the comfort of your own bed and fall asleep.

 -

 “That’s all for today, don’t forget your deadline next week!” you stood up from your seat in the lecture hall and stuffed your laptop and notebook into your scruffy bag before walking down the stairs to the exit. You’d just finished a two-hour lecture on the history of fine art, the one part of your major that you didn’t absolutely love. It’s not that you didn’t find it interesting, you just felt that it dragged on sometimes; half an hour felt like twice as long in that class.

 You left the room as quickly as you could, already imagining how good your Thursday latte would taste once you made it to the coffee shop. You were too wrapped up in your own thoughts to notice the boy walking in your direction until you bumped into a firm structure, far broader and taller than your own.

 You looked up and smiled as your eyes were met with the pretty sight of Mark’s curly black hair - messy as always, yet still so perfect. “Hi” you grimaced up at him through your lashes.

 “Hey, princess-” he chuckled, “-mind if I join you?” He didn’t give you time to reply as he took your hand in his and pulled you out of your lecture building. “I’m guessing you’re heading to Hyuck’s café?”

 “Yeah” you replied quietly as you glanced down at your intertwined hands, a rosy blush spreading its way up your neck and onto the apples of your cheeks, you tried not to smile too much. You hated the effect he had on you. He had the ability to turn you into a blushing mess at the drop of a hat, and he made it look so easy, it’s like he didn’t even have to try. You wiggled your way out of his grasp, remembering that you were in public. The last thing you wanted was for one of your dads associates to report something back to him, again.

 “How was your day?” he peered across to you, ignoring the way you had separated yourself from him.

 “It’s been alright, pretty standard. How did you know where to find me?” you replied in question, wiggling your eyebrows up at him, “stalker” you giggled, watching as he opened his mouth to respond, shutting it before he could say anything. He looked like a fish.

 “You mind if we take the bike?” he nodded his head towards the striking motorcycle just ahead of you, it wasn’t parked very carefully. He had obviously just pulled up and jumped off in a rush.

 “Oh, it’s okay I can just walk-”

 “Nonsense, baby. Hop on,” he picked up his helmet, placing it on your head and fastening the strap under your chin. “Perfect” he smiled once he was done, admiring how you looked in the soft light of the early evening for the first time. His smile was sad, though you didn’t really think anything of it.

 The two of you usually crossed paths when the sun had set, and the stars were visible for the night, it was nice to see Mark in the golden hour of the day for once. His skin was glowing as he bathed in the light, his black curly hair a stark contrast as his messy locks fell against his forehead and into his eyes. He looked breathtaking, although you supposed that shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you anymore; Mark always looked breathtaking, ethereal even. It was as if he was sculpted by the gods themselves, his beauty truly not of this world.

 You rode through the city, the warm air blowing your hair over your shoulders as your arms automatically wrapped themselves snugly around Marks toned core.

 You found yourself in a state of serenity when you were close to him like this. His warmth and his intoxicating aroma were the deadliest of all combinations. Truthfully, if Mark was an erupting volcano, you would most likely swim towards his lethal inferno. You didn’t understand why you felt this way; he had some unknown, invisible control over you and you were sure you were already addicted.

 “Oh, crap,” you heard under a hushed breath from in front of you. Mark was looking from side to side in a frantic motion, his sudden state of distress immediately alarming you.

 “Mark?” he muttered something that you didn’t quite catch, ignoring your questioning plea. The air around you turned static at the revving of an engine or two coming from right behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck raised into goosebumps and you called out his name once more.

 “It’s fine, baby- shit-” you heard a sharp intake of breath and you lifted your head slightly so that you could rest your forehead on Marks shoulder, letting your eyes screw tightly shut.

 The bike swerved violently to the right as you heard the first gun-shot ring out, it’s deafening sound leaving a painful ringing in your ears. “What the fuck was that? Was that a gun-shot? Holy crap, oh my God-” you stopped yourself and were now verging on terrified as you buried your face further into his warm body. “Mark? What’s going on?”

 “Just hold on real tight, okay?” he briefly glanced back to your quivering, hunched over figure, placing a reassuring hand on the lower part of your thigh, hoping to send you some form of comfort – it didn’t really work. “We’re gonna be fine”

 He seemed determined to get you both out of this mess unscathed, urging his bike to reach dangerous speeds as he steered you both through the bustling traffic of the city, weaving between cars and turning down backstreets, trying desperately to lose your unwanted companions. His entire body was tensed - you could feel it. The adrenaline that was rushing through his blood was causing his veins to pulsate and protrude and his arms were firm with concentration, his grip on the handles of his motorcycle never wavering.

 Another shot rang out. The bike juddered speedily along a small one-way street as you both felt the impact of a bullet nestling itself into the framework; luckily not hindering your getaway speed. “For fucks sake” he cursed as he noted the damage to his precious motorcycle.

 You were muttering a mantra under your breath as you prayed to the Gods that you didn’t believe in; you prayed to Ares and Dionysus and Hades. You chanted and begged to Marks Godlike entity, willing the gunfire to end and for you to be able to have him in piece. You just wanted to be with Mark. That was all. You wanted to enjoy his presence without constantly feeling the watchful gaze of someone lurking in the shadows. You’d been on edge about it ever since you’d received that text, maybe this was your punishment. Perhaps you’d have to endure this as your comeuppance, your retribution for disobeying your fathers’ wishes. What you didn’t realise, however, was that your father wasn’t your greatest threat.

 The wind only grew colder as you sped along the quiet streets, it seemed that Mark was leading you out of the city and away from the bustling streets. The cloud of polluted air covering the city faded until you could only smell fresh, salty air and the never-ending traffic blurred into the soft sound of waves crashing against the sand of the nearby beach. Mark had brought you to the sea.

 “They’re gone” he called over his shoulder as you slowed to a halt at the empty end of the beach. You didn’t dare move from your place behind him, holding him so tightly you feared you may be suffocating him, but he didn’t complain. He instead hung his head low and released his grip on the handlebars, opting to drop his head into his hands and let out the breath he’d been holding in for the past fifteen minutes. “C’mon”.

 You took the hand that Mark offered you once he’d stepped onto the rotting wood of the boardwalk next to you, letting him help your shaking form stand up. You looked up at him with fearful eyes, you didn’t know what to think. Who were they? Had your dad sent them after Mark? After you? You weren’t sure if you wanted to know, you were just glad to be standing back on your own two feet and by the safety of the ocean. You felt safe with Mark, regardless.

You let him guide you down the grassy dunes and onto the soft white sand, neither of you exchanging any words for quite some time. You were in shock, perhaps. You weren’t really sure where to begin. The two of you took your time drinking in the lengthy stretch of sand before you, hands loosely linked together in an attempt to reassure one another that you were both okay.

 It was Mark who spoke up first. He let out a shaky sigh after you’d been walking aimlessly along the beach for several painfully silent minutes. “I guess I should probably start talking, right?” he let out a nervous laugh and lifted his free hand to rub at the back of his neck, something you’d picked up on as a nervous habit of his.

 You looked up at him, the look in your eyes enough to tell him that he should explain himself.

 “The company I work for, the errands I run aren’t exactly legal” he started, not even able to look you in the eye as he spoke. “I’m so sorry you’re caught up in this, y/n,” his voice breaking as he spoke.

 “What do you mean? I’m not caught up in anything. We lost them, Mark. We’re alright.” You stopped walking, tugging on his hand until he turned around and stood in front of you. The almighty, Godlike figure you’d first met suddenly looked like a trembling mess, his tough gaze breaking under your scrutiny.

 “God, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you.” Mark whispered softly as he looked into your eyes, his pupils flitting around your face, he seemed uneasy. You weren’t entirely sure you’d heard him correctly, though. Mark loved you. He loved you, and you were too stupid to see it. “Why did it have to be you?”

 As you looked up at the raven-haired boy, you realised something. Or rather, you understood something. You understood what it felt like to have something that you never wanted to lose. In the few fleeting weeks you’d known Mark, you’d grown to care for him. His towering frame made you feel small and helpless but being in his presence somehow also made you feel powerful and free. When you were with him, it felt like nothing else mattered, he was everything; he was the air that you breathed, the drug that you were addicted to, the celestial being that you didn’t know you craved so badly until he’d first kissed you. You needed him, and perhaps you did love him, even after only a short time, you’d grown so attached.

 He plucked his phone from his pocket and looked at the text he’d seemingly just received, swiftly putting it back in his pocket before you could see, “Not now, God. Not yet.” He muttered frantically, he was manic, the look in his eyes unlike anything he’d ever expressed to you before.

 “This wasn’t the plan, this wasn’t meant to happen. I’ve fucked this all up and I cannot express how sorry I truly am-,” he cut his rambling off when you reached up to cup his face in the smooth palms of your hands, stroking your thumbs lovingly over his cheeks. He was a wreck, a trembling cage of beauty in your hands, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss his fears away.

 “They gave me an assignment and I don’t know what I was thinking when I accepted it,” he searched your eyes in panic, lifting his own large palms to cover your dainty hands, pulling your hands down to rest on his broad chest. “They’ll kill me if I don’t deliver, I always complete my missions, I-” he heaved out a deep breath and gave himself a moment to think. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

 “Baby, it’s okay. We can figure this out together, alright?” you were calm as you spoke, although your heart was racing ninety to the dozen. You were scared, yes. But Mark made you feel safe, you had nothing to fear when you were with him, that much you were sure of now.

 You grasped his hands tightly in yours as he held them against his own chest, the thundering beat of his heart hard to miss. “I love you.”

 “Let me love you, Mark,” you trained your eyes on his lips and leaned into him, melting into his embrace completely the second your lips met his. You kissed him so delicately, letting your feelings mold into every fibre of his being with each and every peck, each time your lips met becoming more and more heavenly. He wrapped you up in his arms and you couldn’t possibly be any closer to one another no matter how hard you tried; your chests were pressed flush against each other, your hands touching every inch of skin as your tongues met in a passionate dance.

 “Don’t shut me out any longer,” you gasped as you broke away for air momentarily, before reattaching your lips to his in a drawn-out kiss. “I can’t get enough of you, Mark,” you panted, digging your fingertips into his shoulders in utter, blown-out bliss.

 Marks hands travelled from yours to meet around your waist, your lower back, your hips, your neck. He was touching you everywhere, like it was the last time he would touch you, kiss you, like this. His lips sucked on yours and his kisses were feverish and open mouthed, his thigh propped between your legs as he tried to keep you both steady. He finally settled one of his hands to rest between your ear and your jaw, pulling away to admire your wind-swept state in the heat of the moment. “You’re beautiful, y/n. You know that?” you could see tears beginning to form in the corners of the gorgeous, doe eyes you’d fallen into so deeply, his gaze leering so heavily into your own.

 He pressed a final, barely-there kiss to your supple lips before dropping his head into the crook of your neck languidly. His hot breath stuttered against your neck, your hairs standing on end as you bathed in his being. His hold on you felt like molten lava against your skin, his very touch burning hot onto your sensitive skin, leaving red trails wherever his fingertips travelled.

 “I love you, please forgive me,” he sounded distraught.

 You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words, and another shiver once you felt the cold metal come between your bodies, although you didn’t have time to react before you felt it, before you heard it. The sound in itself would have been enough to make you faint, it was piercing and deadly and you were gone. The gun between you fell to the floor as Mark shook violently in horror at your now limp body, which had now fallen, crumbled lifelessly into his arms. Your heart. He’d shot you straight through your heart, he’d put a bullet through all your love for him.

 “I’m so sorry,” he was hysterical, yet unnervingly tranquil at the same time.  

 “They told me I had to kill you. Your fathers’ company is our biggest threat and I-,” he paused, shaking his head as the tears began to cascade silently down his cheeks. “I had to do it. I had to make him vulnerable, I had to put work first.”

 “I didn’t have a choice, I’m so fucking sorry, y/n,” he lowered himself to the ground and sobbed as his arms thrashed into your unmoving body, his fists clenching at your blood-soaked clothes. The colour drained from your skin and in turn, Marks face paled in trepidation, his heart felt heavy, yet so incredibly empty. He loves you, but he’d shot you. You were dead.

[bottomlwjrights]

MO DAO ZU SHI REREAD:Thoughts™️....and Stuff

Chapter 43

Oh im trying so hard to stay calm as im about to read this but im so excited i love these chapters

Im really trying but even wwx making the effort to analyze lwj’s face is driving me nuts

Id just like to point out these chapters are titled “Allure”

Oh no this is like what he did when they were writing in the library

“Both his features and the hand at his forehead were impeccably fair in color. He looked as if he was a piece of fine jade”

Wwx was describing how lwj smells and how the sandalwood scent was warmed up by the wine and then said “the scent could almost be described as intoxicating” im gonna scream

“Now that Wei WuXian was near enough, the scent intertwined with his breaths. He couldn’t help but bent down further so that he was even closer to Lan WangJi. Vaguely, he thought to himself, Strange… Why is it starting to feel a bit hot in here?” Ohohoho

“Wei WuXian finally noticed that his heart was beating a bit too fast.” Shut uuuuuup

Okay im gonna lose my mind, i love wen ning

Also he left a man shaped dent in the ground when he fell

“Won’t you be a good boy?” Wwx calling lwj a good boy is canon so suck it i guess

Wwx brushing his fingers along lwj’s eyelashes is tender

Wwx, @ wn knealing in front of him: what the fuck are you doing? Stand up

Wwx obviously believes wn to be an equal to him, kneeling when he kneels, kowtowing when he kowtows until wn finally decides to stand in front of him

Wow anyways loved that ningxian moment

God....i feel so bad for wn...

Jin Ling....please...

This scene hurts me

Goddamn is wn someone who takes the blame for everything

Do NoT kiCk My BoY

Just a note, wwx does come to wn’s defense here, pulling lwj back and telling him to calm down

Wwx really doesnt like it when wn kneels to him

“Lan WangJi scrunched his brows and covered his ears. He then turned around with his back toward Wen Ning. Facing Wei WuXian, he used his own body to block their eye contact.” Lwj acts like such a little kid when he’s drunk oh my gosh

“Just as he was about to leave, Wei WuXian stopped him, ‘Wen Ning, why don’t you… find somewhere to hide first?’ Wen Ning paused for a second. Wei WuXian added, ‘One can say that you’ve died twice already. Go get some good rest.’” I dont care what anyone else says this is sweet “go get some good rest” 🤧

Lwj really took off his forehead ribbon for wwx without skipping a beat wow....

Oh and how wrong wwx is about it not holding any significance, he just doesnt know it yet

Trying to stay calm, trying not to scream about lwj taking off his forehead ribbon for wwx and then tying his wrists together with it

Knfnckc lwj reaching to take off wwx clothes again slnfckfk

“You said that you’ll listen to me, didn’t you? Be a good boy and take it off.” Twice in one chapter? Im being fed 

“Lan WangJi stared into the distance as he tugged at the ends of the forehead ribbon, contently swinging them around.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺 thats so cute

Ooooh lwj decided to show people when wwx said it would look bad on lwj if someone else saw them because he doesnt care if it makes him look bad hes gonna publicly claim wwx as his

Only ljy would hurl himself across a table to cover up a bottle of wine lmao

Lan WangJi is So shameless, holds up wwx’s hands tied with his forehead ribbon in front of his son and the other Lan disciples who know exactly what that means

Chapter 44

Chicken wing chicken wing

God im never gonna get over lsz shoving the chicken wing back into ljy’s mouth

Oh pls....lwj shoving wwx on the bed...

Oh!!! I forgot that after wwx said ow, lwj checked his head... he really didnt wanna hurt him

I really vibe with lwj being so concerned and gentle

“Sitting on the bed, Lan WangJi hugged his knees and clutched the hand that Wei WuXian had just licked to his chest, not moving at all.” I 🥺🥺🥺🥺

My god lwj was scared that he was gonna wipe it off 😭😭😭

Okay this is so so so cute, i dont care what anyone else thinks

“Hiding behind the screen, he showed only half of his fair-skinned face, peeking silently at the direction of Wei WuXian.” This tears me up

“You caught me”

“he enunciated each word with heavy emphasis and sounded anxiously eager” jakfncjfof gOD

Aw :( you’re not gonna lick me??? :(

Anyways lwj likes to be licked my wwx 👀

“Again clutching the hand that had been licked, he faced the wall silently.” Goddamnit this is so fucking cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Listen they should play chase or hide-and-seek post canon, like itd be so cute and sweet, somebody should hop on that 

“As he spoke, he held up one of Lan WangJi’s hands, bent down, and kissed between two of his slender fingers.” Listen im trying to not freak out but this is incredibly tender

“Wei WuXian’s lips pressed onto his distinct knuckles. Softer than the touch of feather, his breaths wandered to the back of his hand, and he kissed again.” This entire scene is too much

Hand and wrists kisses are so tender good god im gonna scream

“Over the clothing, he kissed where his heart was” jajfnkc so sweet!

“Suddenly, however, as Wei WuXian stared at those soft, pale-red lips, he didn’t know what had taken over him, but he suddenly went and kissed them.After the kiss, he even licked them, as though a kiss wasn’t enough.” AHHHHHHHH

I know that lwj wanted to deescalate the affection, but did he have to do it by knocking himself out???

“Even though he was drunk, even though he wouldn’t remember anything when he sobers up, I still shouldn’t have done something so outrageous… It’s too disrespectful to him.” This is important

God i love when characters touch their own lips after a kiss it’s such a good trope 

“In the future, it was best to not make Lan Zhan drink anymore” this is also important

Okay this was one of my favorite chapters to read so far

Chapter 45

I physically cannot handle lwj gently picking wwx up off the ground and putting him into bed right now

“... Wei WuXian could see Lan WangJi’s still-indifferent face. He immediately felt more awake...” i cannot

This entire scene is too tender for me, lwj rubbing ointments on wwx’s wrists...

Thinking about how wwx and lwj shared both their firsts kiss and how they’ve never kissed anybody except eachother

It makes sense that people including wwx would assume that lwj is straight bc thats what people do even in modern times (bc homophobia and heteronormativity) but also how tf does anyone think lwj is anything except gay

“It’s possible that he’s never even had such thoughts before…” “But judging from Lan Zhan’s habit of self-restraint, he’s probably really careful about not crossing any lines.” false.

Lwj just letting the juniors socialize, because hes good

Wwx once again taking any chance he can to bestow knowledge and wisdom upon the juniors, this time jl

“After the mention of Lan WangJi, Jin Ling looked to Wei WuXian in a strange way. He wanted to say something, but held it back, ‘You and HanGuang-Jun… Nevermind.It’s your own business. Anyways, I don’t care about you guys at all. Have fun being cut-sleeve. The disease is incurable.’”JIN LING 

“I already know the meaning behind the GusuLan Sect’s forehead ribbon. Now that it’s already like this, then stay by HanGuang-Jun’s side properly. Even if you’re a cut-sleeve, you should be a modest one. Don’t go about messing with other men, especially people from our sect! Or else, don’t blame the results on me.” Kandkckdkdn i can NOT

The scene kills me wow

As my reading buddy asked, why does wwx not mention wn when talking about how jc and lwj know who he is? Like does he not think thats pretty significant? especially bc thats one of the things that tipped jc off

LWJ IS SO SASSY 😨

Also pls stop picking on him about his memory

Ahhh the damsel of annual blossoms...

God i love wwx.....

Did lwj write the book that lsz read this from......

“Although still expressionless, an unusual glint hid beneath his eyes. He looked as though he was laughing at him.”

GOD “Wei WuXian’s heart skipped a beat and then thumped faster and faster.”

Lsz is the one to tell wwx about the meaning of the forehead ribbon

The lan juniors blushing thinking about what wwx means to lwj

Once again, wwx describing lwjs appearance in depth, talking about how dashing he is

“Along with that overly-pretty face of Lan WangJi’s, now that they met again, Wei WuXian’s eyes had momentarily been blinded by his looks, failing to immediately recognize him.”

“Softer than even the touch of catkin blossoms carried by the wind, the object made Wei WuXian’s cheek itch....The ends of his forehead ribbon danced in the breeze, gently brushing against Wei WuXian’s face.” Wow....i love this imagery with all my heart

The way that somethings are worded in this novel is just so beautiful

Lxc and the others lan sect disciples reactions....

Yanno the lan disciple who whispered “a man” definitely wasnt making things better, considering lwj definitely had a crush on wwx at this point

“He seems a bit too excited. It seems like he really loves HanGuang-Jun a lot. Look at how happy he is…” WHICH LAN SAID THIS

Wwx is so mortified by this entire situation because he kept violating something sacred to lwj, doing something so intimate like touching his forehead ribbon without his consent and he didn’t even really know that he was doing it 

[helpinghanikan]

Forgot the tie

Avengers (And Matt Murdock) x Reader

Sum: Even for heroes not everything will go right, even the fun things. (A Coitus interruptus story)

AN: Obviously I’m going through something, that something is exams. When the beast is slain hopefully my stuff will get better, until then this is what I got. 

Steve Rogers:

           At first it seems like a dream come true to have a man that has an unlimited amount of stamina. Then it became a game of balancing risk and reward.

           Starting hours before the big event. His hands gently touching your hips, a gentle kiss on your cheek and a whispered “do you have work tomorrow?” in your ear. It doesn’t matter if you nod yes or no, either way he’s leaves you alone for the moment. It isn’t until later, when you’re both settling in for the night, that he makes his move.

           It shouldn’t be surprising that America’s golden boy was mostly vanilla. Best described as a soft dominate you had no fear of saying no to. That being said, you still had a safe word.

           One that was considered halfway through the night. When you reach to the bedside table for water and his hands pull you back into position. Kissing your back and moving your hair. Pulling your head to look at him and kiss, a non-verbal beg for “just one more, please, one more.” That one more never just stays one.

           “Ice cream, Steven, Ice cream…” You finally pant out. The safe word was used almost every time. Not out of pain or fear, but out of exhaustion. When your legs are shaking from trying to stay in one position and your hair is sticking to both of your bodies from sweat and grease. Steve moving the hair to get to your mouth for one last kiss, a distraction for his hips to stop moving and he gather himself.

           Next morning you’d wake up late, take a shower and the sheets would be changed before you had to.

Tony Stark:

           Despite the tabloids and reputation, it was rare you could get him out of that black shirt. Having to play the part of the lovely arm candy that distracted any cameras for him to make a quick exit from any celebration in public. In private playing the part of the lovely partner sliding between gently reminding and full on yelling for the bastard to take care of himself.

           What little time was left between them you had to patient, had to be understanding. Sitting on the edge of counters, catching him as he passed. It wasn’t hard to trap in your arms, wrap your legs around his center and refuse to let him go without at least a kiss.

           Most of the time he escapes quickly after a quick peck. Making a comment about “later” with a grip to your hip or side. Leaving you hanging on the counter.

Thor:

         First rule of being walked in on; do not stop. If you stop, then you become the couple that got caught having sex. If you don’t stop, and pretend not to notice the intruder, then they become the person who watched a couple have sex.

           Your agency wasn’t willing to splurge on cabins for this stupid retreat. Instead forcing everyone to bring their own tents, and if you forgot, then you had to share. Your coworkers were clamoring to get to share a tent with you and your legendary man. To a point there was actual jealousy on your part.

           It was what brought you to drag your man away from your adoring coworkers. Pulling him into the tent you were forced to share and zipping the tent door behind you.

           Bracing both hands on his shoulders to balance, you were so focused you would have never heard the unzipping behind you. Thinking back, the only indication that there was an intrusion was Thor’s eyes flickering slightly to the side. His hand going against the back of your neck, pressing you into him.

           Your tent mate didn’t bother zipping the tent back up. Leaving a cold draft that pressed you harder into your man’s chest.

 Bucky Barnes:

           He’s grinning at you like a naughty teenager. A hand on your knee while driving, making it’s way up your thigh by the time you pulled into the lookout point that wasn’t nearly as popular at four in the morning.

           The car hadn’t even stopped rumbling before Bucky was on you. Holding your face in both hands, pushing you back against the passenger side door.

           It was a cute idea to stop at a look out point, make out and do more in a confined space. Having to scooch your butt down on the seat, making enough wiggle room for your legs to intertwine. Bucky’s hand so much colder then usual after being exposed to the night. Too much pressure on your breasts as he tried to pull the bra cup out of the way.

           “Sorry,” He groans into your mouth. Both your teeth clicking against eachother as he tries to wrap your legs around him. “I forgot there’s not a lot of room in cars. Hold on,”

           “I’ll wear a skirt next-oop!” It was just the little noise that finished your sentence. Bucky’s hands behind your knees shutting you up faster then a kiss. Your knees spread and pressed into your chest. Groaning into his mouth at the sudden pull and press of your legs. Fantasies of exotic positions always are easier when you don’t think about the training that it would require. “Fuck, stretch…”

           Bucky didn’t have time to respond to even acknowledge that your legs couldn’t naturally stretch that far. A few little knocks knock above your head stopped any of that from being expressed.

           Before you can ask who it was Bucky reached past your head to roll down the window. A stream of light going directly into Bucky’s face coming first. Next, a friendly officer’s voice: “Alright, kids, zip it up and-.” His voice cut off at seeing the grown man staring back at him.

           “Everything’s zipped and haven’t been a kid for a while, sir.” Bucky says, cringing into the direct light.

           The light when down into your face. You giving the same cringed face at the direct light. “Do you need to see my ID, officer?” You ask.

           The poor man sighed as his flashlight clicked off. “No, just save it for home. Okay, guys?” He says, disappointed that there was a distinct lack of teenagers to yell at.

           “Yes, sir.” You say while Bucky does a mock salute.

           The window rolls up as the cop leaves, Bucky, skootching back enough for your legs to fall back into a comfortable position.

           “Did he recognize you?” You ask.

           “I don’t know, do you think we’d be arrested if he did?”

           “Yeah, then he’d ask for a picture. That would be some serious bragging rights.”

Natasha Romanoff:

         It’s been actual months since you or Nat had seen each other. This was a common occurrence; she disappears in the middle of the night. Leaves behind a note and a lip gloss coated kiss on your knuckles.

           For weeks everyone knew that Nat was gone, also knowing better then to ask about it. Just letting you stir your drink alone during lunch.

           It was a pleasant surprise when Steve came in one morning. Casually saying “I’m pretty sure Nat has a signal now. If you want to, I’m sure she’ll appreciate a call-.” If Steve weren’t such a wall you might have taken him out.

           “Hey, Pretty,” Nat says when her face appears on screen.

           “Hey yourself, Beautiful,” You say back. “It’s been so long, I miss you.”

           “I miss you too, traveling for work is part of the job, though.” She quickly turns her to the back of the room. Looking to the heavy door behind her as though to mentally will it to lock tighter. “I mean I really miss you.”

           You roll your eyes but still smile at her. “It’s only been a few weeks and you’re already like this.” It just happens to be a coincidence that your shirt is starting to unbutton. From under your chin to your naval, open to expose whatever bra you wore that specific day. “What are you going to be like when you get back?”

           The same strange occurrence happened on her end. The night shirt she was wearing pulled down far to the side. Showing an exposed shoulder and collarbone, the pajamas were purposefully loose. If she pulled it any further your get a look at the perfect breasts.

           “Just wait until I get back, Pretty.” She says but her face has completely stopped moving.

           “Babe? Are you-I think you froze? I think my WIFI is getting funky.” You say, tapping the mouse pad a few times.

           “No, it’s me. I’m not exactly in the best place for a signal right now. I’m sorry.” She says. “Just consider this technology a tease, Pretty. When I get back, then we’ll have real fun.”

           “You better, otherwise Sam is starting to look really handsome.” You warn.

           “That not funny,” She says, although you could hear the smile in her voice.

T’challa:

           T’challa was seven hours ahead of you, meaning you had to do major math if you didn’t want to wake him up. The safest time was to hit him up on your lunch break.

           ‘I miss you,’ You text off, a quick reminder that he had someone across the sea.

           It was very sporadic if he responded. Sometimes right away, ‘I miss you, too. Are you busy next week?’ or he wouldn’t respond until you were already in bed. There was an internal fear that he was saving those texts you wrote while half awake, more then a few were random declaration of love and want for cuddles.

           ‘At meetings like these, I miss you too.’ He responded.

           You had him. Skootching back in your office chair, lunch disregarded, and fully delving into your phone.

           ‘Important prince meeting? Are you wearing the black dress?’

           It took a second before he responded to that.

           ‘It’s not a dress. It’s a cutaway coat and pants, not a dress.’

           It takes a few steps before reaching your office door. It’s thick frame shutting with a chunk noise, announcing to the office to stay out.

           ‘Can you step away? Can I see?’ It took you months before taking this step. Knowing that if it were an important meeting he wouldn’t have responded until late at night.

           Another few seconds.

           ‘I’ve already tried.’ He texts.

           Formal wear for the office was just a regular pencil skirt and button but. Easy to manipulate just enough. Opening the first few buttons, pulling the undershirt down a little further to show the shadow of cleavage. Lifting the phone high and snapping a shot of the exposed collar bone you show by pulling the shirt further to the side.

           ‘Good thing I can.’ You send with the picture.

           Sending pictures was usually a one-way street between the two of you. What little he shared was always without any identifying markers; no face or birthmarks, and never anything that was unclothed. It was the same rules for you, never show your face or any moles. Worst you had sent were of underwear and even then, your face would be cropped out.

           It’s likely he didn’t respond as he had flipped his phone over at the sight of your picture. Sneaking a peek every few seconds before taking it completely off the table. Doing his thing of cupping it with both hands to hide the view from anyone near him.

           Stepping around your desk it’s easy to roll your skirt upwards, kicking yourself for not wearing a garter belt instead of regular tights. Skirt up past mid-thigh, sitting with your knees together and getting the picture of your exposed thigh and tight skirt in the next shot.

           ‘I like your coat and pants. I’ll wear the dress for us.’ You text back.

           It’s another few seconds before you get a response. Not from T’challa, but from Shuri. A picture of the office space they were both at. Picture pointed forward from her perspective. Pointed across the table toward T’challa on the other side. His hands cupping his phone like you had predicted, looking down at it with the serious face he has to keep on for meetings.

           The only thing that made your eyebrow raise was the reflection behind his head. A glass window showing almost everything that was in front of it. Including the back of T’challa’s head and his phone screen. An almost perfect image of your thigh displayed just above his head.

           ‘I like your skirt,’ Shuri texts with a smirking smiley face.

           It’s amazing your phone hadn’t broken being dropped onto your desk.

 Pietro Maximoff:

         It started as a romantic, cute moment that went wrong real fast. Starting with your hand on his bicep and a question in your ear. Escaping from whatever social obligation you had dealing with, hand in his, almost jogging. Even when he wasn’t running, he would walk too damn fast.

           You had never vocally told him it was a bad idea, but Pietro had revenge fantasies for a while. Always casting less than a friendly glance towards the toaster his sister had decided was a good match.

           It was why you only rolled your eyes when he led you to this specific door. Vision’s office, his little space, and he didn’t bother to lock it. The grip on your hand was tight, practically ripping you through the door before you get out “Are you serious?”.

           Pietro tries, he really does, but he gets excited about something he’s no better than a rowdy kitty cat. Moving faster than you can track, walking you backwards with a sever danger of tripping. His paws going everywhere with too much claws and too sharp teeth, but he’s just too happy to make complaints at. Just gently moving his hands to more appropriate places he could grab.

           Vision’s office could be describe as that over paid history professor. A lot of books, a lot of hard wood and dark colored leather furniture. All surrounded by the crown jewel of a thick wooden desk that was probably heavier then both of you. It’s edge hit a little above the small of your back, something that’d you’d have to do a little hop to get onto.

           Instead those paws held either side of your hips. Spinning you around and down way too fucking fast. He was very excited, a hand between your shoulder blades, moving you into position. The thunk your head made from hitting the heavy desk straight on was worse then any pain that came with it.

           Pietro immediately leaned over you, too scared to touch after causing this much harm to touch you. Hands, instead, hovering over your head while you cover your face. Trying to hide from an assault that wasn’t actually happening.

           “What the fuck?” You are asking between bursts of “I’m sorry!”.

 Peter Parker:

         Studying never involved studying for long. It was that rare night Peter used to catch up on his homework, for a smart guy he was turning things in late. Most mornings you’d let Peter use your back as a table, quickly jotting down the answers from Nate’s homework.

           Starting at either end of the couch, his legs stretching out for his feet to rest over your legs. Asking questions, he probably knew the answer to but cheated by looking at the sheet anyway. Doing this so often you lunged across the couch dramatically, reaching for the paper he held over his head.

           “You aren’t going to be able to use it on the test!” you said, pressing against him to reach over his head.

           “I’ll write it on my ankle, I’ll cheat!” Peter says, laughing that he was the one holding something out of reach for once.

           The big guns came out after you taunted him, stating that he didn’t even know how to cheat. Coming close enough to his face that it too him a second to register that you kissed him. A closed mouth press against his jaw, another one under his ear, followed by a nip he squirmed at.

           “No, this cheating.” He said, trying to hold the paper farther as if you still cared about it at all.

           Innocent high school grinding was always a little painful and really annoying. From your underwire stabbing into your chest to not being sure where to put your hands. This would have been more comfortable in pajama pants. Instead your jeaned legs are tangled together, the fabric chaffing your thighs. Underwear protecting the worst of your areas from the pain of the clothes.

           Forgetting the paper Peter let it fall to the floor. Putting his hand on your sides below the breasts. Making out was nothing new to either of you, but kissing was one thing. Over the clothes touching was another.

           Slowly inching upwards towards heaven, he went slow like this every time. Not that you were any better. Only once had your been brave enough to direct his hand, after a better then usual date, putting his hand over your breast. He frozen for a second, gently squeezing as if he was surprised.

           After that night he was braver but never reached right for his goal. Instead inching upward. Having to map out your ribs and side boob before reaching home.

           He was close to it, too. Finding the shape of your thinnest bra that you just happened to wear that night. Like any teenager he slid upwards, pressing against your mound like he was trying to find the right shape of it.

           Thank the Lord the coffee table was moved before the studying started. That flat palm against your breast pressed way too hard for a second, his other hand on your hip working to throw you right off. Stupid carpet way too thin to break your hard landing. Back hitting the floor so hard the ‘oof’ that came out was the same sound level as the door opening.

           “Hey, guys,” Aunt May says, using her foot to close the door. “Hope you’re hungry.”

           “I- You said you’d be home at nine.” Peter stammers, sitting with his knees to his chest. You taking up the position of pretending to read over the study sheet.

           “I got off early,” Aunt May has that smile like a cheery thirteen-year-old who learned a secret. “Do you want me to come back later?”

           “No!” You both practically yell in unison.

Stephen Strange:

         This thing was bought as a joke. From the combination of Black Friday sale and a won gift card from a friend’s bachelorette party. A red and white dress that barely went mid-thigh, matching stockings and garter belt that were surprisingly comfortable. It could probably be worn again if you happened to find a long enough dress or skirt.

           You had only showed it to your friends as a joke, in the ‘I’m gonna win at Halloween’ way. She only a little laughed at it’s presentation. “I just assumed it was for your man, didn’t he used to be a doctor?” she had said, laughing more at how your face changed then the outfit.

           He was sitting on the end of your shared bed. Holding two papers that was nothing but numbers and symbols to you. A quick look over some new information hidden in the corners of books before bed time. Sliding between the two as though they were self-referencing eachother.

           If he hadn’t known you were in the adjoined bathroom he would have looked up when you entered. Instead just scooching to make room for you. Expected the nightly tradition for you sitting down next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder and reading the papers that still don’t make any sense.

           “Stephen,” You said, stepping out from the doorway more.

           “Hmm?” he doesn’t look up, just making the noise and slightly tilting his head.

           Taking a few sides steps to be a little closer you put both hands on your hips. Perk the hip out a little, pretend like you’re the model that showed this thing off, and try again.

           “Paging Dr. Strange,” You say.

           It still takes him a second to look up at you. Head turning before his eyes left the page, a look of surprise with a twitched eyebrow.

           “We need go over the last patient’s operation,” You say.

           Unfortunately, the outfit did not come with a script. Instead having to make a guess about what to say or what to do. Thanks to the thicker walls you got a few minutes to test out a sexy voice, upon realizing that it just made it seem like you needed a cough drop it was best to stick with your normal one.

           The papers are tossed to the desk across from the bed. Not caring that he might have missed. Sliding back onto the bed as you walked forward, knees spreading apart for you to set a knee between them and lean forward against him. Arms around his shoulders, breasts pressed further against his chest. His hands don’t keep a firm grip on your sides, hovering just above so you wouldn’t be able to feel his shaky fingers.

           “You know I never mess those up, Nurse,” He says, looking over your face. Smirking at the outrageous red lipstick and eyeliner that no professional nurse would wear. “Are you saying I’m losing my touch?”

           He get’s braver, a hand sliding over your backside. Pressing against to both fondle and support your balance on one knee and heels.

           “Well, based on his reaction to ten milligrams of…adrenaline,” You push his chest forward until he is laying flat on his back. “You just might need an evaluation.”

           “Being dead is not the same as a reaction.” He says, staring up at you.

           “What?”

           “Eight milligrams of adrenaline would give him a heart attack or hemorrhage. Ten and he’s not going to make it.” Stephen is doing that thing where he twitches his head slightly while talking. Reading the little notes in his head he made years ago.

           “It doesn’t, that doesn’t really matter, Stephen.” You say, while still straddling him.

           “No, but not even an intern is that stupid.” He says, holding your hips.

           “Okay, wow,” even in those comical heels it’s easy to slide off him.

           “No,” He reaches out, but you’ve already stepped out of his reach. “Sweetie, I didn’t mean it like that!” he calls. But the bathroom door had already shut behind you.  

Matt Murdock:

           It was a pretty commonly known fact that when you lose one sense the rest will get stronger. That was why you never had to announce yourself when you got to Matt’s door or that he would always belly-ache about the amount of pepper you use in cooking. It was also why he was always more of a giver then a receiver.

           “Too much…Angel…Too much…” He speaks slowly, breathing out in puffs towards the ceiling. As though he were talking to the angels up above instead of the one right below.

           You were a sadist, Matt told you this every time. Even though he knew that if he really told you stop you would do so immediately. A safe word isn’t commonly used for such a vanilla couple as yourself, but it came in handy when Matt tended to babble when overstimulated.

           He does everything but grab your hair. Grabbing his own hair, the bottom of his shirt, covering his mouth and groaning deep into his hands.

           You had threatened to completely stop if he covered his face from you. You had taken him in as far as you could when he tried to retort. Calling you a sadist again but only getting out the “say” in the entire word. The rest lost towards the ceiling, in a surprised yelp. Your name following as he tried to moan instead of talk and annoy the neighbors.

           It was an awkward thing for Matt to admit that he didn’t last long. It was something that you both had to figure out yourself and force him to admit. Not that you were complaining about the other ways he got things done, even if you did come in second during the race.

           The real issue was getting the dramatic bitch to sit back and enjoy it. Not just for himself, or even for you, but for the both of you.

 Carol Danvers:

         There are a hundred romantic ways to describe the woman over you. About how her blond hair looks twined in your fingers. How her mouth makes an oval every time, having to work just a little harder to get the rolling back eyes to match.

           Now though? In the same poetic fashion; it was like trying to fuck a star.

           At first it was beautiful, the woman above you, bursting into a kaleidoscope of flames and colors. Without thinking you had reached out towards the flames. With so many colors that your woman was sitting on you had reset your brain. Whatever primal part was operating your brain assumed that that many colors couldn’t possibly be a bad thing.

           While carol would never intend to hurt you, she was busy in her own little world. Riding it for all it’s worth before you yelped.

           Panic set in at the same time for both of you. Carol falling off the bed in an effort to get away from you, the usual composed soldier scrambling on her hands and knees towards the kitchen.

           It was tingly at first. Becoming a burning that you couldn’t get from a regular fire. More like a sunburn, then a sunburn under a hot shower. Then add salt to that same feeling. Holding your hand close and groaning at the pain, burying your face into the pillow and crying into it.

           “Babe, babe, I’m so sorry,” Your woman is next to you again. Kneeling next to the bed and trying to coax your hand towards her. “I’m just too hot, I’m sorry.”

           You can hear her chuckle at her own little joke. Releasing your hand to the ice she applies.

[bohemiansweede]

The Caregiver

The Caregiver

Fanfic

Pairing Roger Taylor Reader

Warnings Smut 🔞

Agegap

A/N Please like and reblog or if you want leave a comment

Thank You

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- Oh Thank you so much Y/N, Mrs Lewis is my last one for the day but I really have to...

- It's ok Linda, I cover up for you, honestly.. It is ok.

I was so nice to everyone that I often forgot about myself, tonight it was my turn to cook on the chelter and before that my laundry really had to get organised... And the dishes, omg... Well it seamed that I had to do that one another night..

- You are such a rock Y/N.. How can I ever thank you? Mrs Lewis is a sweet old lady, you just have to be there on time and shop after her list, otherwise no problem.. Oh.. Right.. Almost forgot.. The bus.. Make sure you time it in.. It runs just once in an hour

- Ok, got it.. Have a nice dinner now.. Don't think about me, I smiled little sarcastic and headed out towards the bus stop

Jeez.. Well... I had nothing against helping people, the opposite frankly, I loved it, but it was a loooong time since I gaved myself some me time... And by that I should probably mention that it was about time that I had a good lay too..

With a cringy noise and a sigh, the bus stopped right by my feet

I asked the driver just in case where the closest stop was to the grocery store

The list was not that long but she was very specific what she wanted, down to the exact pound of cheese the special sausage at the butcher, her favourite olive oil, etc etc

I went in at butchers first and took it of the list, next was the post-office, I sighed.. There were tons of people inside and I just needed a few stamps for the letters. Just the thought of the fucking bus me freaked out.. Perhaps I should take the groceries first..

I went out again, it was a good choise to take my coat because it was cold today, but I still wore the shorter skirt from the lunch with Linda and that I regretted now

I grabbed a basket in the store and started to fill it.. The note was slightly wrinkled and it was little hard to see.. Usually I didn't have any problems with my eyes but..

- Ohh.. I.. ohh.. sorry..

I fell forward on my knees and almost grabbed a strangers legs

- Are you alright miss?

He reached out his hand

I looked up and saw straight up in a pair of gentle blue eyes

- Typical me... Ms Clumpsy..

I picked up the list from the floor which now also was dirty and wet

- Shopping for Mrs Lewis?

Guess she was well known

I brushed my knees of and took the basket which he had picked up from the floor

- Thank you, ehh.. yes.. Yes I am

- You better not be late then

He smiled and winked at me

I just stood and stared after him like my feets were glued to the floor, he was the most attractive man that I ever seen, maybe in his late 40's, the hair had just begun to turn grey and he had wrinkles around his eyes when he... Fuck.. The bus...

I sped up and went from isle to isle and grabbed my things.. There.. Just the olive oil then..

Of course on the top shelf

- Hello again.. Let me get that one for you dear

- Ohh.. H.. Hi..

My heart skipped a beat

He was soooo handsome and.. Yes... Hot.. Could I say a man in my dad's age was hot?

- We have to stop meeting like this.. I'm Roger

I took his warm strong hand in mine, wonder if he was married.. kids

- Y/N

When the olive oil was in the basket I went to the cashier, I had pretty good time.. Until I froze...

- Shit...

I grabbed the stuff and ran out, the post office was still occupied with people and the bus would leave in 10...

- Fuck...

The little kind old lady would turn into a witch.. A monster or maybe worse...

A car pulled in next to me, and when the window went down I saw him...

- Looks like you need a ride love.., did you miss the bus?

How happy I was to see this man right yet again

He asked if I was new at this job, and I explained that it was not even my job, he said he was sure of that Mrs Lewis was going to be satisfied with me anyway and I didn't have to worry

- I wait in the car while you go in to her

- But.. The bus stop is...

- No, I don't want to hear it... I am right here ok?

I don't think Linda or anyone had delivered groceries that fast before, I even managed to borrow her phone to cancel the chelter dinner... I had totally different things in mind

- Y/N.. I.. I was wondering if you wanted a cup of coffee?

- Coffee?

I didn't want to laugh but he sounded so cute and little nervous

- Yeah.. I.. Well.. There is not much coffeeshops around here and and.. Ehh.. Well.. Damn... Thing is.. I can literally be your dad.. but..

I silenced him with my finger on his lips, he swallowed hard and let out a shaky breath

Then I could not hold it anymore, he was like gasoline on my body that had cached fire, I crashed my lips onto his and at once he opened his mouth and met my tongue, I moaned in his mouth and his fingers tangeled in my hair

- Ro.. Roger.. Let's go... home

- Mmmmm... I would love to.. But... You have let go of my shift gear hunnie...

We both laughed, the situation was kinda weird brutal.. comic.. sexy

His lips was still burning on mine, I couldn't stop looking at him now and then during the drive

He did a slight left turn up on a gravel road and I saw a huge mansion

- You live.. He.. here?

- Yea.. I do.. Every other week I am alone..

There was my answer, divorced.. kids

He stopped the car right outside the door and gaved my knee a gentle squeeze

- You don't change your mind dear?

- No... Not a chance...

He grabbed his bags and went straight the kitchen

I was totally amazed by the fireplace and how beautiful everything was.. Really tastefully decorated..

I suddenly felt his strong arms around me..

He kissed my hair and my neck and his warm breath made my skin prickle with tiny dots

- You are so beautiful hunnie.. so young.. Almost untouched..

- I am n..

- Ssscchhh... I want to discover you... It is MY first time with you..

He took my hand and I followed him upstairs into the bedroom

We stod across eachother and my heart was beating so hard that he must have heard it

He cupped my face with his big hands and kissed me, the kiss was more passionate yet hungry

I tried to unbutton his shirt but I just fumbled, he noticed what I was doing so he took over

- Let me take care of you now darling... It is your turn to relax

He did not know how right he had

As he enjoyed every moment, he took his time undressing me and exploring my body, he was so different, he was a gentleman he was older.. he knew what he was doing..

Every inch of me was covered by tiny tiny kisses and nibbles

- Roger.. I whimpered.. please..

- I know I know.. Soon...

I could not hold it anymore and he knew it, he kissed the sensitive skin above my breasts while he cupped them, I felt how hard he was towards my leg and he groaned a little when he finally circled my nipple with his tongue

- Ahhhh God ... Ohhh ..

It felt like electricity in my whole body, I grabbed his head and even if it felt so good what he was doing I needed more, I pushed his head down.. further down.. to my dripping core

He looked up at me and gaved me a mischievous smirk

That totally changed everything

He grabbed a pillow from next to me and tucked it under my butt, then he grabbed my thighs and pushed my legs wide apart

He took his palms under my ass so I opened up more for him, this man was an oral expert.. Shit... He sloppy kissed my pussy and dragged his flattened tounge up and down along my folds, I arched my back and tried to grab the sheets but he pinned me down

He then circled my clit so fast that my eyes rolled back in my head he sucked it in his mouth almost nibbled on it

- Ahhh shit Rog Fuck... Ahhhh damnit..

He continued to lick with a rapid pace and it was not long until my walls started to collapse

- Shit Omg I... Iam... Ahhhh Gooood... Ahhhh

I squirted on his tounge and he was quick to drink the full amount of me

- Mmm... You taste delicious mmm...

- Omg.. It was... Do you want me to...

- No... I said I wanted to take care of you...

He smirked and kissed his all the way up to my lips again..

- Now.. I didn't exactly plan this.. Are you...

He frowned a bit

- Yes, I am safe, I am on the pill..

- Glad you said that... Cause cannot fuckin wait any longer

I felt how his erected cock trailed near my entrance, after the tip was inside me it just took a few seconds for me to adjust to his size

- Omg hunnie, you feel so fuckin amazing.. Shit..

His head fell back and his pace increased, his hips snapped and I bucked my body up to meet his

- Ohhh Roger... Fuck.. Ahhh... Harder... Harder... Ohhh...

He took a grip on the bed frame and the other one he teared apart the sheets, sweat was dripping from his forehead down on my neck

I felt that he was close and I was not far behind myself

With almost pornographic sounds we came undone together, he emptied himself deep inside of me and my final contractions maked sure there was nothing left

- Ohh God.. You were amazing.. Truly amazing...

- Roger... Wow.. I... I have no words...

- Not so bad for an ol...

I smacked his upper arm

- Don't say it...

We laid tangled together for a bit, I could sense that he was thinking of something

- Are you sure you don't know who I am love?

I froze a little, what have I missed

- Should I... I mean... I am not from here...

He chuckled a little..

- Well... I don’t know if I should be honoured or nervous.. It was long time ago since nobody didn't know who I was

I was even more confused

Well... He was in late 40s.. Maybe he had put on some weight?... Hair.. Was it the hair? The glasses?

- I am hungry love, do you want something to eat?

- Sure.. OK...

He kissed me softly and he gaved me a bathrobe that I could borrow

I took a glimpse in the mirror.. I looked totally fucked, and I was.. but I happy too.. There could absolutely be something with this guy whoever he was.. Politics? No..

And kids? Fine.. As long as it is ok with the ex...

I bounced downstairs and heard him hum on something for himself in the kitchen

On the way there I passed a big wall... A wall full of gold disc's platinum records...

WOW... Really...

I palmed my forehead and did an eyeroll.. I had totally missed out that it was him

In the corner of my eye I saw that he was watching me and he walked in my direction

- I... I'm sorry... I didn't tell you

- And I'm sorry I didn't recognise you...

- Sssscchhh... You know what.. Mrs Lewis doesn't know either..

He kissed me softly

- So.. are you staying?

- I am not leaving.. Well.. Maybe just for posting a letter

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Enjoy more reading in my

[simplygojo]

killer queen - chapter nine

Series summary : Y/n, a native to London England, gets asked by the legend himself, Freddie Mercury, to help manage the band. Obviously she accepts, and it ends up being the best decision she ever made. Quickly she becomes close with each member of the band, Roger Taylor specifically…

Chapter Summary : Y/n and the band finally arrived at the farm and begin recording the album. Roger has to wake y/n up after she passes out in the sound booth, and they have a late night together once again...

Word Count : 4.7k

Pairings : Ben!Roger Taylor x Reader 

Warnings : Swearing, SMUT

a/n - SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG!!! I had to deal with family issues so I had no time to write, but it’s here now!! Also, if you’d like to be on the tag list OR request something, then please send me an ask!! luv youuu <3

                                              Killer Queen Masterlist

            You felt someone gently shaking you as your eyes slowly fluttered open. You sat up and looked around, eventually right into Rogers beautiful eyes. “Love, we’re here.” He said softly giving you a small smile. This made your heart jump just a bit. You had all finally arrived at the farm, Roger looking completely out of place in his fur jacket and designer sunglasses. You all stepped out of the car, bags in hand as you walked towards the small stone house, which looked as if it was seconds away from falling apart. “Well, this is, nice.” Roger said, obviously forcing his positive statement. “Well I think it’s positively marvelous.” Freddie chimed in as Prenter carried Fred’s bags behind him. “Alright, I’ll show you all to your rooms.” Prenter said as he rushed inside the small home. You walked inside the home behind Roger, and it stank like a barn. “What a lovely smell.” Deaky said, causing the group of you to let out a chuckle, except Prenter. “Okay Freddie you’re upstairs, the biggest room of course.” Brian you’rel to the left, John to the right.” Paul began to walk away and you and Roger looked at eachother. “What about us?” You said, evidently not pleased. “Oh yeah, you two are in the basement.” He said walking upstairs to show the rest of the boys their rooms. 

            “I swear to god if he doesn’t show us where the bloody hell our rooms are I’m gonna kill him.” Roger said, dropping his bags on the ground and sitting at the kitchen table. “That man gets on my nerves, there's just-” Roger interrupted you “Just something about him.” You nodded in agreement. “Glad it’s not just me.” You said, even though you knew Freddie was the only one who liked him. Deaky was the only one who didn’t despise him, the rest of you did. “So...about last night…” You began as you walked towards where he was sitting. He smirked as he watched you walk and looked you up and down. “What about it?” He asked. You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Hey, I’m serious. Brian and them can’t know about it, or if it happens again…” “You think it might happen again?” He said hooking one of his fingers through your belt loop as he stood up in front of you. “I said IF.” You said, walking away from his grasp, but he quickly pulled you back from your belt loop and placed both his hands firmly on your hips, holding you in place. “Roger.” You said sternly, but the look he gave you made your heart flutter. He gave you a sarcastic pout as he leaned closer to you. “I know you’ll give innn.” He whispered in your ear, then placed a soft kiss on your jawline. You subconsciously closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. “Says who.” You countered. He placed another kiss further down your neck. “Me.” He said, the lust obvious in his voice. You sighed in pleasure as you felt his gentle hands trace the skin on the dips of your waist. You rolled your eyes and brought your hands to his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands moved to the small of your back as he pressed you against the kitchen table, you wished you could repeat last night right here right now, but you knew better. You pulled away quickly and looked at him. “That's enough, the boys will be back soon, and there can be no distractions while we’re here.” You said softly as you separated yourselves. “Oh love, then why the bloody hell did you come?” He teased again but you shot him a stern look, making him stop immediately. “Because I am the only one who can keep you boys in check, keep you on task, and keep you focused.” You explained, merely moments before Paul walked back in the room with Brian and John. “Okay you two, your rooms are this way.” He said in his high pitched voice. You and Roger grabbed your bags and followed Prenter downstairs. The two rooms beside each other both had water stains on the walls and bales of hay in the coroners. “It’s bloody freezing.” You said glaring at Prenter who in response just shrugged. “It’ll get warmer as the day goes on.” He said as he walked back up the stairs. After Prenter left, the two of you looked at each other and then each claimed a room, placing your bags on the bed. “Well this is gonna be fun.” You said sarcastically. “I can’t believe that Prenter has to come with us.” Rog said. “He’s such a prick.” You added. “Come on, everyones upstairs, let’s join them.” You said as you walked up the stairs with Roger behind you. The two of you walked into the kitchen area as Deaky and Brian were arguing about how many cows they saw on the drive up. “Bri, I know what I saw, I saw 47 cows, there’s no way there was only 31. You probably fell asleep” Deaky said which made Brian stand up. “I did not fall asleep!” He yelled angrily. You let out a laugh. “What the fuck are you arguing about?” You said. “Y/n, we did this thing on the tour that when we were driving for a long time, Deaky and I would have a competition to see who could catch how many cows we passed.” “It’s to pass the time really, we both hate long drives so it’s like a game of sorts.” Deaky added in. You and Roger both laughed. “Bloody hell you are both losers.” Roger said as he walked over to the coffee machine. “Rog will you make me one too please? I’m gonna go see Fred.” You asked nicely as you went to go up the stairs to Freddie’s room. “Of course.” Roger replied as he got out a second mug. Brian and John looked at each other in confusion and then looked at Roger. “Well that was awfully nice.” John said and Roger turned around. “What was?” He asked as he filled one mug with coffee. “There was no bickering, no snotty remarks.” Brian said. Roger rolled his eyes. “Are you joking? Guys she just asked for a coffee.” He said as he filled up the second mug. 

              You walked upstairs and knocked on Freddie’s door. “Fred?” You said as you walked into the room. He was sitting in the coroner of the room with a paper and pencil in his hand. He didn’t say anything as you walked closer to him. You caught a glimpse of a tear rolling down his cheek and you kneeled in front of him. “Fred what’s wrong?” You asked him. He gave you a small smile and leaned back in his chair, quickly writing something down on the paper. “I’m writing a song for Mary.” He whispered. “And it’s really good.” He said smiling again. You let out a small chuckle. “That’s great Fred. Well I just came to see how you’re doing. How about we start recording tomorrow?” You said as you stood up and walked towards the door. “That sounds excellent y/n.” You smiled and left the room, walking back down to the kitchen where Roger was waiting for you with a coffee in his hand. “For you.” He offered. You just smiled and took it from his hands. “Thank you.” “I don’t even get why you need s coffee y/n. You slept the whole three hours here.” Deaky teased as he stood up from his seat and walked to the window. “Well shit, it’s raining.” He said. Roger laughed, “Have you not been hearing the rain on the roof this whole time?” He said with a laugh as he sipped his coffee. Deaky rolled his eyes and sat down at the round table. 

            “Anyone want to play cards?” Brian asked as he took a deck out from his jean pocket. “Yeah sure.” You said taking a seat to the left of Deaky, Roger sitting to your right and Brian sitting across from you. “So what are we playing?” You asked after you took a sip from your coffee mug. “It’s called Brag, a bit old but my Grandad taught me it when I was a boy. The three of us play it all the time.” Brian said gesturing to Roger and Deaky. “Why haven’t I been invited to these card games?” You asked. “Well, girls don’t really play ca-” “What Bri means to say, love, is that you don’t seem like the type to like cards.” Roger said immediately correcting Brian. You crossed your arms over your chest. “So it’s because I’m a girl?” You said, your anger flowing through your veins. “No no no!” Deaky said to try to correct them. “No you know what, it’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, but you obviously cared. “I’m sorry y/n, I didn’t mean it li-” “Bri, I really don’t care, just explain the game and then let’s play.” You said putting your coffee mug on the table and interlocking your hands together. Brian explained the game, and you were determined to kick all three of their asses. After four rounds, Brian had won twice and Roger had won twice. “Fuck this I’m gonna make a grilled cheese.” Deaky said as he walked over to the kitchen. “Make me one!” You called. “You done y/n?” Roger said almost sounding cocky. “Not even close.” You told them. The next round you won, then you played again and won, then again, and again. After five more rounds, you winning every single one of them, Brian stood up. “Deaky now I want a grilled cheese too.” “Yeah let's take a lunch break.” Roger said as he put his cards down on the table and joined the boys in the kitchen. You had a proud smile on your face. ‘I showed them’ you thought to yourself as you stood up to join them in the kitchen. 

            The day went on slowly, as you all felt like you had nothing to do. Once dinner passed, you were sat in an old armchair reading a book, while the boys were sat discussing song ideas for the album. The only reason you were all here was to make music, so that’s basically the only thing you wanted to do. You finally got up, marking your spot in the book and walked over to the table. “Alright, I think I’m going to get an early night.” You said to them. “Alright, night y/n.” Brian said, looking at you for a moment, before he continued to write lyrics down in his notebook. You gave them a small wave before walking down into the freezing cold basement. “Fuck it’s cold.” You whispered as you wrapped your arms around yourself. You quickly changed into a huge sweater and some joggers before you crawled under the thin covers. You forced your eyes shut as an attempt to go to sleep. You heard Roger and Deaky say they were going to head to bed now as well, but Brian said he wanted to finish his lyrics. You heard the stairs creek eerily as Roger walked down them. He went straight into his room, you heard him looking around for his clothes. After a moment the noise stopped, and you heard his footsteps slowly approaching your door. “Y/n.” He whispered. You sat up and opened your eyes, your room was pitch black, all you saw was Roger’s silhouette standing in the doorway. “What Rog?” You asked as you reached around the bedside table for the lamp. You pulled the metal string to turn it on, light filled the room as you noticed Roger was now standing at the side of the bed. “I will never be able to fall asleep in this temperature. It’s too bloody cold.” He said wrapping his arms around himself. “Okay, what do you want me to do about it?” You said, a bit annoyed that he was bugging you. You watched as a smirk grew on his face. “Well I can think of some...activities that can warm us up.” He said. You fought the smile that was trying to creep onto your face as you rolled your eyes. “Rog, I said no distractions, remember?” You protested. “Oh but y/n it’ll do the opposite of distract me, it’ll help me...uh...release my urges so tomorrow I can focus on music.” He explained as he sat on the end of the bed. You had a stern look as you scanned his face. “No.” You said, laying back down and pulling the covers over your body. “Fine then, but mark my words, I will convince you during this trip.” He said dramatically as he stood up. “Good night Roger.” You chuckled and he smiled wide. “Goodnight love.” You closed your eyes and pulled the covers right up to you chin as an attempt to keep warm, but you eventually fell asleep.

            The next morning you woke up to the boys arguing in the kitchen. You put on some fuzzy socks and walked up the stairs. “I put my heart and soul into this song.” You heard Roger say with his back turned to Brian and Deaky. “Morning boys.” You said sitting beside Brian. “No one is disputing that.” Deaky said pointing his fork at Roger. “What are you guys eating? Can I have some?” You asked once you noticed the plates sitting in front of Brian and Deaky. “And you don’t like it because you want your songs on the album!” Roger said, turning to face the three of you. “It’s not that Roger.” Deaky countered. “Then what is it?” You sighed and stood up. “I guess I’ll make something  myself.” Brian looked up from his plate and looked at Roger “I’m in love with my car? Maybe it’s not strong enough?” Brian asked, Deaky shrugging in agreement. Meanwhile, you put two pieces of bread in the toaster and snagged the last two pieces of bacon and sat back down beside Brian. Roger scoffed at Brian. “What does that even mean ‘not strong enough’?” Just then Freddie walked in. “I know I’m late. What did I miss?” He asked. “They’re arguing about Roger’s car song.” You said rolling your eyes. Freddie shot you a look of understanding and nodded. “Is it strong enough, that’s all I���m asking. If I’m on my own here than I apologize.” Brian said in defence. To no surprise Roger was still being aggressive and pointed at Brian. “How does you new song go then hmmm?” He taunted as he grabbed the paper sitting in front of Brian. You paused as he read the lyrics. “You call me sweet, like I’m some kind of cheese?” He read and you laughed a little. Brian nodded “It’s good.” “Wow!” “Is that, you know, let's read yours. When my hand’s on your grease gun. That’s very subtle isn't it?” Brian said, which made you lean over and look at the rest of Roger’s lyrics. “It’s a metaphor, Brian!” Deaky straightened his back and chimed in. “It’s just a bit weird Roger, what exactly are you doing with that car?” You rolled your eyes as you got up to get your toast that popped. You spread some butter over it and brought it back over to where you were sitting as Freddie spoke. “Children please. We could all murder eachother but then who would be left to record this album?” “Statistically speaking, most bands don’t fail, they break up.” Deaky said, picking at food on his plate. “Deaky why the hell would you say something like that?” You said scowling at him. Freddie pointed at Roger. “Roger there's only room in this band for one histerical queen.” Freddie picked up a box of cigarettes and walked out. “You know why your angry Roger?” “Why?” “Because you know your song isn't strong enough.” Roger gave a small nod, but you could see the volcano of rage about to erupt. He picked some of the food up off the counted and threw it at Brian. “Is that strong enough?” He yelled. “Rog…” You began, as an attempt to calm his rage. Instead, he cleared everything off the counter with one sweep of his arms. “What about that?” He grabbed the coffee maker and held it over his head. “Not the coffee machine!” You, Brian, and Deaky all said in unison. “Enough!” You stood up and glared at all of them. You walked over to Roger, and gently took the coffee machine out of his hand, placing it back down on the counter. “Today is the start of the album, how about we set up the studio with the equipment, yeah?” You suggested, Roger and Brian nodded. “Okay, good, I’m going to get ready, I expect all of you to be grabbing your instruments from the van when I’m done.” You said sternly before walking back down to your room. You put on a pair of blue jeans and a white long sleeve shirt before quickly brushing your hair and then running back upstairs. 

            Just as you had asked, all three of the boys were bringing in their equipment into the studio. You were about to follow them, but you heard someone, most likely Freddie playing piano. You walked towards the sound, which led to a small living room with a brown grand piano in the middle of it. You stood in the doorway not making any sound as you heard Freddie sing lyrics you hadn’t heard. At the end of the lyrics his voice cracked from the emotions that must’ve been flooding his mind. It sounded beautiful, and you hoped that Freddie would present it to the band. “That’s really good, Fred.” You said after a minute of silence. “Oh god y/n, I didn’t know you were there.” He said, startled. “Thank you dear, I think it’ll be magnificent.” You chuckled as he walked over to you. “Anything you write is magnificent.” He laughed. “It is isn’t it?” You nodded as the two of you walked out of the living room and towards the studio. “Fred we’ve been here for over twenty-four hours and I’ve barely seen you. Everything okay?” You asked him. He didn’t answer for a moment but gave a small nod. “I’m just figuring some things out.” He said vaguely, although you had a feeling you knew precisely what he was talking about. “Well, you know I’m always open to talk, if you want to.” You offered before the two of you walked into the now set up studio. “Well there they are.” Deaky said. “Wow it looks good guys.” You said as you walked into the middle of the room, where a mock recording booth was set up. “Alright listen, I want to record a song.” Freddie began, as all of you gathered around him. “I have already got Brian to write a guitar solo for it, and I’ve been working on it for a while. It will be our biggest and best song yet.” He explained. “Alright then, lets do it.” Roger said, nodding as he twirled his drumsticks. Freddie gave each of the boys a sheet that he had written and they all began to practice their own part. You took a seat on one of the chairs as you watched them all play. Your eyes focused mainly on Roger, you loved watching him play the drums, he did it with such passion. As you stared at him, your thoughts began to drift to your night before the trip. You wanted it to happen again, and again, and you wanted it to be normal. You wanted him to share his warmth with you when the two of you tried to sleep in the freezing cold. You wanted to tell him that he’s constantly on your mind, and how much you crave him. But you knew you couldn’t, not while the album has such a close deadline. Roger finally noticed you staring and gave you a wink and a small smile, to which you simply rolled your eyes and looked away. Finally the boys decided that they’d just begin recording some of the other songs, and work on what you all called ‘Fred’s Thing’ once all the other songs were done. For the rest of the day, they recorded Brian’s song called 39. You brought in some sandwiches around 3pm and then made grilled cheeses around 7:30, making sure that the boys took some breaks in between takes. After they ate their dinner, they continued to record while you remained in the recording booth the whole time, laying down on a small couch in the back. You eventually fell asleep, your legs curled into your chest and your hair covering your face. 

            After who knows how long, Roger had finally decided to wake you up, he shook your shoulders gently. “What?” You said harshly as you opened your eyes. Roger laughed, “A bit rude there love, but we’re going to bed now. It’s midnight.” He said making your head shoot up. “Bloody hell it is not!” You shouted sitting up quickly, which only made Roger laugh harder. “Yeah, come on.” He said helping you up from the couch. The two of you walked back to the barnhouse together, your hands brushing his every so often. “I’m just gonna clean up, you head to bed.” He said, which made you let out an ugly chuckle. “What was that about?” He asked, offended. “You? You’re gonna clean up? Since when do you do that?” You asked him laughing a bit as you sat on the kitchen counter dangling your legs off the side. “Since now! Brian, Deaky, Fred and I all decided that we’d rotate dishes each day so you’re not doing them.” He admitted, turning on the tap to fill up the sink. You smiled wide and looked at him. “That’s very sweet Rog.” You said as he walked up to you, standing between your legs. “Well I’m a sweet guy y/n.” He said, his voice slightly louder than a whisper. Roger put both of his hands on either of your thighs and slowly slid them up towards your hips, this made you felt a heat grow between your legs. “Rog, we shouldn’t-” “I get that we shouldn’t y/n, but I’ve been craving you constantly.” He said in a whisper as his hands moved from your thighs to your waist. “I know you’ve been craving me too.” You gave him a look of disbelief. “I have not.” “Y/n, I saw how you were looking at me today. I’m not trying to force you, but I would never say this unless I knew you wanted it too.” He said as he was merely inches away from your face, “Come on love.” He whispered in a low raspy voice, making the heat between your legs almost unbearable. 

            “God Taylor, you’re the worst.” You said before wrapping your hands around his neck, pulling him closer to you. His hands quickly snaked around your waist pulling your body flush against his as the two of you kissed, allowing his tongue into your mouth. Your hands combed through his hair and his trailed up your shirt to roam your body. His lips felt warm as they trailed from your mouth down to your jawline, then to your collarbone, nibbling and gently suckeling on the sensitive skin on your neck. You felt his hands play with the belt loops of your pants, as if he was daring to take them off. “You fucking tease.” You breathed, reaching down to unbutton them, and he quickly slid them down your legs, the counter was frigid against your thighs, causing you to shiver. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll warm you up in no time.” He growled in your ear, causing a shiver of pleasure to run down your spine. You looked him in the eyes for only a second, but you noticed that dark glaze over his eyes, just like the time before. “Are you going to take off your pants, or am I gonna have to do that for you?” You said, which just made him smirk, he pulled his jeans down his legs and you could already see the tent that had formed in his boxers, which only made you want him more. You pulled him back in for another kiss, this time it was more heated. His hands were on your hips, guidning them as you rolled your hips into his tent, deepening the kiss. Finally, he decided that he needed you, he needed you now. His right hand left your hip and swiftly snagged your panties down your legs and onto the floor. He slid his boxers onto the floor as well and pulled your closer to him again. “Rog, we’re just gonna do this on the counter?” You whispered, and he nodded. “What if someone hears us and comes downstairs?” You asked, resting your hands on his shoulders, the dark glaze left as he looked at you, almost with puppy dog eyes as he spoke. “It’ll be fine y/n, they’re exhausted, and you’ll just have to stay quiet.” He smirked at you and you smiled back. “That may be hard.” You whispered back and then resumed kissing him. He pushed you back gently, so you were laying down on the counter, which was the perfect height for you and Roger. He slowly put himself in, which made your fists squeeze up into balls. He looked down at you and put one finger over his mouth, ensuring you stayed silent. Roger began thrusting slowly and gently, this made it easy for you to stay silent. He put one hand on your lower stomach to keep you from squirming as he started to move faster. You felt yourself struggling to not make noise as his pace gradually sped up, his hand pressing down harder and harder on your stomach. Your throat burned as an attempt to keep quiet. “Rog.” You breathed as a signal for him to either hurry up or cover your mouth. His hand moved from your stomach and reached to cover your mouth strongly, while his free hand moved to your hips, to assist him with the thrusting. You squeezed your eyes shut, as you needed to relieve some kind of sound. But before you could do that, he pulled out and pulled you up so you could finish it all off. “Can I finish on-” You interrupted him buy hopping off the counter and sticking it in your mouth, which brought him to his finish. You swallowed everything he had let out, which impressed Roger. 

            “God you’re somethin’ else y/n.” He said wrapping his arms around your waist. “So I’ve heard.” You whispered back with a proud smile on your face. He looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen before, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked a small smile playing on your lips. He shook his head and laughed quietly. “I’m just tired now y/l/n.” He said as he put back on his boxers and held his jeans in his hands. “I’m going to bed now.” He said before walking downstairs towards your rooms. You stood behind the counter dumbfounded, he was avoiding something, and you just wanted to make him admit it. His attitude after made you feel like he had just used you, but you figured that he was just tired. Just as you went to follow him downstairs you heard someone walking from upstairs. “Shit.” You whispered, and before you could make a run for it, Deaky had walked down the stairs. “Y/n? What the bloody hell are you doing? It’s one in the morning.” He said, frustrated. Luckily you were standing behind the counter so he couldn;t see that you were butt naked, but your shirt remained. “Uh, I-Um, I wanted some water.” You said, hoping he wouldn’t come any closer. “Okay well can you get it quietly? I’m trying to sleep here.” He said before turning around and walking back up to his room. “Jesus.” You whispered in relief before grabbing your pants, turning off the lights and running down to your room. After you had changed into your warm pajamas, you crawled into bed and began to drift off to sleep. Roger was completely right, you were craving him, and you felt like maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t be able to stop.

Series Taglist & Some New Friends: @triggeredpossum​ @toger-raylor​ @antoouu​  @s-e-l-e-c-t-i-v-e-listener​ @creativedogs​ @wvnhedas​​ @rockyroadthepastryarchy​   @coltonthekanima​ @anna1523​ @fandomshit6000​ @shutup-sorry​ @a-crowd-of-newsies​ @butterfliesflewaway​ @ultrunning​ @unicorntrooper​ @digicharr​​ @howmanymoregalileos​ @sargent-barnes​ @sincereleygmg  @ultrunning​ @illfoandillfie​ 

[hellishvu]

Bandaids on Scrapped Knees;

— haha guess who posted! i cant confirm i’m back back but i’m trying slowly and posting this is massive! progress so i’m very happy with myself. i cant wait to get ideas back into my head and feel that happiness once again ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

☆彡 mating can be new and scary but with the help of the pack, it is forever called home.

Mating. It was important to all kinds. Where you get claimed by the people who you can call special and family. The amount of people in a pack didn’t mean much to you. You knew that you always wanted to have a pack where you felt close and felt safe. So when you finally met the 4 people, the 4 who were the love of your life. You couldn’t be more excited to mate.

They all were bubbling with feelings of wanting to be claimed by you. With scheduling with all of you it was hard to put in time to go on the dates and set the mood of mating. As time grew they all grew impatience besides one, Namjoon.

Namjoon has had his fair share of being in different packs. He had always lied about how many he’s been in because pack-hoping wasn’t common where he lived till he moved far away. The city of opportunities and set dreams of becoming something bigger. Namjoon loves the city and he never thought he’ll catch himself falling in love, his walls were up and he hid his insecurities with his intelligence and following the rules by the books.

“Aren’t you exicted to mate?” Hoseok smiles while Yoongi plays with his cup circling his spoon with his coffee. They all sat on the couch looking out of the window of the cold breezy morning. The frost beginning to form around the windows.

“I’ve been dying to.” Seokjin sighs feeling his neck of the hickes you left on his neck before leaving for work. Yoongi got up from the couch walking to his office of music finding inspiration when he sees the first snow fall of the year.

“What if he doesn’t want to mate with me? ” Namjoon quietly says obviously feeling the eyes on him once he had said that. They treated him with open arms when he was first invited into the relationship. Kisses were shared and feasts were made just to congratulate him on joining the family.

“Joon you know he wouldn’t do that.” Hoseok places his hand on Namjoon’s bare knee rubbing it seeing him nod a small smile forming.

“Why would you think that?” Seokjin frowns scooting closer to Namjoon. Yoongi coming from the studio after writing and recording the tune he was humming. Seeing the caring looks towards Namjoon plopping himself next to him.

“What’s going on?” Yoongi asks setting his coffee cup on the end table. Namjoon trying to form a sentence but Hoseok beat him to it.

“Joon is worried that Y/N won’t mate with him.” Yoongi tried to process the sentence and once he had he looked at Namjoon with a confused look. They weren’t attacking him, they just wanted to know why they thought you wouldn’t mate with him. They all thought he was leaving a big detail out on a reason why you wouldn’t want to.

“Because I’m newer and...”

“And?”

“And I was in anoher pack, mutiple ones. They treated me like a toy, and I felt nothing but fear there. It was the main reason why I moved here. What if Y/N doesn’t want a pack hopper?” Namjoon asked looking at all of them at the end. He wanted some form of comfort like a small smile anything that told him that his one chance of a happy pack wouldn’t be ruined.

“Namjoon we all can’t find our pack on one try.” Yoongi explains holding his left leg against his body. Namjoon listening closely wanting advice from the other members of the pack. He knew that once these amazing people could calm him down from just about everything. Namjoon knew he found his pack, the one he wanted to spend it forever with.

“Yeah of course, thank you so much for this time off. I appreciate it.” You walk into the home with your phone against your ear. Seeing all your pretty beauty’s all together. Them still in their sleeping clothes from when you left them.

They all got up to hug you, kissing their forehead but you couldn’t help and see that Namjoon didn’t join. He sat on the couch uneasy when he figured the mating was going to start sooner or later.

“Go on and get ready. We can start our mating today.” Seeing them all lead to their rooms, opening and closing their door. Seeing Namjoon finally alone by himself. You sat down next to him placing a hand on his thigh.

“What’s wrong?” You asked looking under his face to see his facial expression. You place your hand under his chin raising his head to see him form a small smile.

“I’m scared about the mating.” Namjoon confesses, sifting criss cross on the couch while you had your full attention on him.

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been in many other packs.”

“Are you scared this isn’t the right one?” Namjoon jumps back with shock. He couldn’t imagine himself with any other pack.

“No! No it’s just what if you don’t think I’m worth it?” Namjoon says trying to read your face of any disgust or angry. He saw none, the only face he saw was gentle compassion.

“Angel you know I would never think you aren’t worth it. You are so special and gorgeous. So intelligent and so out of this world. Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you!” Giggling into his shoulder Namjoon places his hands on your shoulder not being able to hold his laughter either.

“You are worth a million stars. The entire moon, angel. No matter how many packs you were in before, you’re in this one and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Placing a kiss on his hand, before getting up leading him to his closet to change into the special occasion.

Everyone came out of their rooms waiting for you to finally show up. Fashionably late you like to say when you walk out looking like a 100 bucks. Wearing your most favorite outfit that made you feel confident almost like you ran the world. The guys called out for you to turn and give a twirl.

“Okay okay! Let’s go!” You open the front door seeing all of them quickly get in your car from the colder degree of outside. Them racing to get shot gun like they were 10 years old once again.

“Haha!” Seokjin teases when he clicks his seat belt in the front. The others still enjoying being next to eachother. Driving through the city to the restaurant something fancy but not too overwhelming.

You all sat down at the restaurant breathing in the fresh cooked meals and your ears were full of the chattering of the other guests. Sipping on the water provided, sitting in the middle of them. Cracking jokes and sharing stories of eachother.

The night felt right in so many ways, the way they all were laughing and smiling feeling the world was good. The world that included all of you. Smelling the delicious food not wanting to rush the mating even if Yoongi got inpatient.

“You’ll be fine waiting another 5 minutes kitten.” You fed him making him close his mouth slowly chewing. Placing a kiss on his lips seeing Hoseok getting into the wine section sharing it with Seokjin. The cheers of them while they giggle into eachother arms.

“Don’t get drunk you two!” Namjoon grabs the wine from the table setting it farther away from them. Hoseok sipping on it giving a glare of curiousity towards you.

“You look like you want to eat him up.” Yoongi snickers, Hoseok shaking his head out of trance of feeling himself get ready to mate. His body his alpha self was almost begging you would just mate with him already.

“My alpha thing acting up.” Hoseok brushing them off with his hand still trying to catch a peek at you. While eating the given bread from the restaurant.

Once the bill was paid you all left, opening the door for them to go back to the car to go to the special grounds. The place was full of flowers accenting the winter snow.

“Wow this is not extra.” Yoongi snickers walking around the small forest, Hoseok smiling widely the small world of just love.

Namjoon was busy staring at you, your eyes wondering around the beautiful forest. Meanwhile he felt the breeze touch his face, his nose turning a little cold. Seokjin touching Namjoon’s shoulder pulling him close. “You feel it too?” He asks while Namjoon continues to look at you walking towards the two.

“Feel what?” Namjoon looks down a leaf falling on the top of his shoes. “Euphoric.” Seokjin whispers pulling Namjoon’s hand towards the pack. Hoseok settling down from the joy of the scenery.

“Are you guys ready?” Asking trying to remember all of their faces in this moment. The way their eyes scrunch when they smile, how they were dressed, and how they smelled. Even if you all lived together in each scent you smelled each of their own scent still linger.

They all nod, Namjoon feeling the shutters of anxiousness lower. Just enjoying the moment one step at a time. You take out a small box, opening to see small necklaces of a glass heart.

Placing them all around each of their neck’s. Marking them on their neck, some tears were shed and others hummed in satisfaction. Getting to Namjoon he stood tall, gulping when you placed the necklace. He felt his hand being held by Seokjin and Hoseok. You marking his neck was so pretty, his fingers touched the mark still feeling your lips.

“We are one. We are a pack.”

[overobsessivewhumper]

Whumper-less whump #1:

This one is about burning through hot water, so if you don't like that, you won't like this. But all in all this is rather harmless and rather tame whump...

I didn't use any of my ocs since none of them fit this, or are good, and i didn't want to make new ones.

"Just go make tea A."

Ouch. That one kinda hurt.

"Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

I get up and smile at B and C and make my way to the kitchen. I fill the watercooker almost the the top. Don't want to have to make water twice. I flip the switch and lean against the door. I can see B and C from here they look really happy, smiling and laughing at eachothers jokes. Still no reason for B to be so passive to me... They barely aknowledged me today. I sigh, absently listening to the water starting to boil in the cooker.

To be fair, I probably shouldn't be here anyway... C is B's friend, not mine. I barely know them. Plus, B hasn't seen them for almost two years. They're bound to want some propper catching up time. I should have just left the house to give them some time alone...

I stop looking at them from afar when i notice that i'm being weird again. Instead I decide to get out three teacups and teabags. I watch the last few seconds of the water boiling in the cooker, dully noting once again that we should probably get a new one.

Once the water is cooked, i take the cooker over to where the tea cups are standing. Just as i'm about to pour hot water into the cup for B (rooibos, their favorite), a bit of hot warer spills out the back of the cooker and onto the hand that is holding the handle. The sudden burst of heat and pain in my left hand instinctivly makes me drop the cooker. It hits the counter and hot water spills all over it.

Unfortunatly, hot water also spills all over my right hand and forearm. I jump back, biting down a string of curses as hot pain spreads throughout my arm. Pulling back the sleve on my right arm, i hastily try to rub off the water with a kitchen towel.

"A? Are you alright in there?"

Shit. I can't ruin B's first day in ages with C with my stupidity.

"I'm alright! Everything's fine! Just droped a teacup."

Wow. That sounded rather steady for how shaky i'm feeling right now.

"Oh. Okay. Be careful not to cut yourself on the shards dear."

"I sure will!"

That came over a little agressive... huh... Biting down a little too hard on my bottom lip, i turn my attention back to the matter at hand. Slowly I sit down on the floor and lean against the wall. Even slower then that I start to unwrap the towel from my arm. The skin covering the area of my hand and arm has turned an angry red and has developed blisters, some rather large ones and smaler ones. There are spesifically three rather large ones on the palm and back of my hand. Oh, and it also hurts... God, it really hurts. It hurts so bad.

But it can't be that bad, right? I'm not an expert, but as far as i know, fire can get alot hotter then just a bit of hot water, so this is probably just a... first degree burn? That's what i thaught you called them... Yeah... seemes about right... And i think i read somewhere that it's good if you feel pain in the burnt areas. And i most definativly can feel pain. So it has to be one of those first degree ones right? One of those burns that doesn't even need to be mentioned.

But how do you make a first degree burn hurt less? Cold water, right? I'm pretty sure cold water is a good idea. Carefuly, only using my left hand, i get up and move over to the sink. I turn the cold water on as strong as possible and wait. When it's as cold as it will get i quickly stick my hand under it. Instantly I'm torn between the rather small amount of relief the freezing water presents and the increasing discomfort of having a full powered steam of water hitting the blistered skin, which is not very suprisingly extreemly sensitive to all kind of pressure. I quickly bring my left hand up to my mouth and bite into the sleve of my shirt. No need to worry B with this by making pained noises. This is nothing to worry about. After a while i start to feel pretty cold. That probably just means it's working. So that's good.

I switch off the water and pick up the kitchen towel from the floor. I wrap it as tightly as possible around my hand and arm, and cover the rest of the blistered skin by pulling my sleve over them. My arm still hurts like hell and i'm shivering quite a bit, but that's probably normal.

So i start cleaning up the mess and make a second pot of hot water. And this time i even manage to pour it without any more stupid slip ups.

Keeping my towel wrapped arm as out of sight as i can, i bring the tea to B and C and place it on the table and sit down with a smile. B stops talking and turns to me.

"What took you so long? Was something wrong?"

I smile again, hoping they can't see through me.

"No, no. Everything was fine! There just where alot of teacup shards to pick up..."

B nods, but does not look convinced. But they still pick up their teacup and drink from it.

"Thank you for the tea, A."

They smile at me. C also smiles.

"Yeah, thanks!"

After a while the attention is away from me and back to their conversation. I don't really listen to what they are talking about. Bit hard to focus when you're in pain. I really want to go get the pack of painkillers we have in the upstairs bathroom. But B would ask where i'm going. And anyway, my legs feel extreemly weak all of a sudden. I doubt they could hold me.

"Are you okay A?"

"Hm?"

Both B and C have a worried expression plastered on their faces. Damn... i didn't want to make them worry... C speaks again.

"Are you okay A? You didn't answer B's questions... and you really are shivering quite a bit..."

I need an excuse, and fast!

"It's... just... cold in here?"

"It is rather cold, but are you sure you're alright?"

B's voice sounds so gentle and comforting and suddendly i just want to be held by them and comforted, let them take the pain away. But that's stupid of me. It's not like this is a bad injury. The pain probably isn't even ghat strong. I'm just weak. C moves closer to where i am sitting and looks down at my hands

"Why is your hand wrapped in a kitchen towel?"

Shit.

"Um... i..."

B now has their hand on my upper arm gently.

"Did you cut yourself?"

"You don't have to hide that from me A..."

I just look away.

"B's right A... you shouldn't feel like you have to hide that you are hurt. Even when i'm visiting."

Still looking away i hold my right arm out in B's direction. I feel how they gently take my arm in their hands and start to unwrap the towel. For a while there is silence. Then i hear B gasp.

"What is it?"

C walks over and also looks at my now unwraped hand. They also gasp.

So much for not worrying anyone.

Gently B brushes back my sleve and removes the rest of the towel. I still don't look at either of them.

"A..."

B's voice is gentle and kind, not dissapointed how i excpected it. This makes me turn to them.

"A... Why didn't you say something? You must be in so much pain!"

B cups my cheek and gently rubs their thumb across it. I suddendly wonder why I was even trying to hide my pain in the first place.suddenly i feel a little bit silly.

"I... didn't think it was nececary... you two where having fun and i was just butting in... And anyway... Not like it's a bad burn..."

B's eyes widen.

"Not a bad burn? A... this is atleast a second degree burn! And don't you ever think that you'd be butting in by telling me that you're hurt."

A wave of cold comes across me again and i shiver. C turns to B again.

"I'll get a blanket from upstairs."

B nods and they leave. Gently B moves their orher hand to my back and rubs circles on it. I lean into the comforting touch as much as possible.

"Should i call an ambulance?"

I shake my head.

"Seemes a bit overkill..."

"Maybe... but we're going to see someone about that arm. As soon as possible!"

I nod. No need to argue with B about that. They can be rather stuborn.

C comes back shortly and throws the thick comforter over by back. Not long after this C is in the car driving us to the nearest hospital, whilst B sits in the back with me and holds me tightly. I let my head rest on their shoulder and lean into their warmth. And despite the pain still not getting any better, i feel just a little bit more calm and safe now.

[daarkink]

Video Help - Harry Styles Smut.

Hey here is a long smut (the longest I had time to write!) As always feedback and the thoughts you got about Harry are always welcome! My ask box is always open! <3

Word count: 1310.

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Harry was leaving. He was going to be away for three months on tour. It wasn't the first time he had to go, leaving you behind, so you both had the same routine every time. You spent as much time together as you could, mostly exploring and memorizing eachother's bodies to remember for the time you were going to be separated.

And you were doing just that. After a day spent at home, doing nothing but enjoying eachother's presence, you ended up in bed.

Harry hovered over you, slowly taking off your oversized shirt, coating your skin in kisses as he made his way up. Pulling the shirt over your breasts, he let himself suck on your nipples making them even harder and bite down on them, earning a sound of aproval from you. You sat up a bit so he could fully take it off, giving your lips a sweet peck once he removed it.

He made his way down again, following the same steps backwards, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He gave it a playfull pull with his teeth, making you whimper in anticipation. Hooking his fingers on the sides, he pulled them down, always slowly, just like he did with the shirt.

Every single one of his movements was thought out, caring, gentle... there was no need to rush anything. But you wanted more, so you pulled your hips up, helping him get your undies off and also trying to get him closer to where you needed him the most. You would be lying if you said his slow pace wasn't driving you crazy.

"Eager, aren't we, love?" Harry finally spoke up after what felt like hours. He parted your legs and got close to your centre. You could feel his hot breath making you dizzy.

"Please, H. Do something..." You said, exasperation present in your voice.

He chuckled and gave your clit a little kiss, almost non-existen, but you felt it, making your hips jump. He wrapped his arms around your legs, preventing you from moving. You whined again.

"Harry, fuck! Please, do something." You were loosing your mind.

"Hmm, I like it when you beg." He said, smirking. "Look at me, babygirl."

Just as you did he attacked your pussy, making your eyes roll back and your back arch as you almost choke on air. His arms locked you in place, making you unable to make any movement. He gave a hard suck in your clit making you moan loud, in almost a pornographic way.

You were already close and Harry knew it. The way your breathing got more erratic and how your hands couldn't find a place to settle were the signs you were almost there. He took your hands, putting one on his head so you could grab his hair, just like he loved, and he laced your fingers with the other, holding it just over your tummy. He sucked one last time on your clit, sending you over the edge. He didn't stop his actions through your orgasm, trying to make it as long as possible. At some point you couldn't handle the feeling of his mouth on you, so the hand that was tangled in his brown locks tried to get him away from you. But he was much stronger, holding you down harder.

"H, I-I ca-an't!" You said in between breaths. If he didn't stop you were going to pass out.

With one last "Hmm", that made your body jolt with oversensitivity, he pulled away, finally letting you breathe. He looked at you, completely spent in front of him, chest heaving hard, your eyes still close... you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

When you opened your eyes, you focused on him, lips puffy and his chin glistening with your juices, a smirk playing on his lips. Suddenly, he leaned down kissing you passionately, making you taste youself. You started pulling on his clothes, he got the hint and pulled away, taking them off.

He separated your legs with his knee, getting himself inbewteen them, making you feel his cock almost at your entrance. His movements were fast now, full of lust and desperation.

"Are you ready, love?" He asked, kissing down your neck.

"Yes, Harry, please..." You responded in barely a whisper. The effect this man had on you was crazy.

He moved further down your neck, finding your sweet spot right away. "I won't be gentle..." He emphasized his statement by sucking a dark red mark on your neck, making you moan.

"Fuck me, H. Make me feel it for days." And just as you finished he entered you in one swift motion, filling you up to the brim, making you both moan in pleasure.

He didn't wait for you to adjust to his size, snapping his hips fast. You clung onto him, your nails scratching his back, making him hiss.

"Harder, baby..."

He wrapped his hand around your throat, applying just a bit of pressure but mostly to let you feel the weight of his hand on you, and thrusted harder, hitting spots inside you that you didn't think it was capable.

The force of his hips hitting yours was making you move up the bed, now your head was almost off it, hanging from the edge. Just like you were.

"Fuck, Harry! I'm cumming!" Your voice was rough because of his hand squeezing your throat but you loved the feeling.

He brough his free hand down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. You were screaming and with just one particularly hard thrust you reached your climax. So good good no sounds came out, just your mouth open, not really breathing and not because of Bill's hand on your throat.

He felt your wall contracting around his shaft, making him close to his own release. He pulled out and moved up, until his cock was on your lips. He gave his cock a few more pumps and finally came, getting his cum inside your mouth, a bit spilling on your chin and upper lip.

As he got up you moved your hand to get the bit of cum that didn't make it in, but a hard and demanding "Stop!" made you put your hand down again, not wanting to disobey him. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, opening the camera and aproaching you again. He kneeled on the floor next to your head. He pressed record. His fingers gathered his cum from your chin, and pushing his fingers in your mouth. You closed your lips around them, sucking on them, licking them clean. He pulled them out and moved to your upper lip.

"Keep your mouth open, babygirl." This time he pushed his fingers in all the way, making you slightly gag around them.

"Hmm, such a good girl..." He stopped the video and kissed your lips, caressing your forhead.

He got up again and walked to the bathroom, getting a cloth to clean you. When he returned you were well placed on the bed, you hair around you on the pillows, making you look like an angel. He smiled, and cleaned you up slowly, knowing you were too sensitive.

He got rid of the cloth and joined you on the bed, snuggling you closer to him.

"Harry?" He hummed to let you know he was paying attention. "What was that video for?"

"Hmm, just for when I'm away and I need a little help." He kissed your head, while he drew patterns on your arm and back.

"Mm, okay. But if you show it to anyone I will kill you." He chuckled at your threat.

"Never, my love. You are only mine. Now sleep."

And just like that, safe in his arm, your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, you fell soundly asleep.