#this lowkey sucks but hey

[chouchoudelioncourt]

what the FUCK is up yall

[stillwatervoid]

Now nothing’s the same | Alternate!Mark Grayson x Male!Reader

Summary: You know it isn't your Mark the moment he steps into your room. The blood on his suit isn't his. The way he looks at you isn't right. The things he whispers aren't things your Mark would ever say. Yet, you let him stay. And more.

Pairing: Alternate!Mark Grayson x Male!Reader

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, frottage, overstimulation, rimming (R receiving), belly bulging, unprotected sex, spit as lube.

Tags: any Mark variant, Reader is lowkey not okay, and he’s a virgin (so prob unrealistic sex?), Unrequited love (for original Mark), Top!Mark, Bottom!Reader.

w.c: 12.2k  |  a/n: English isn’t my first language. This is the first time I write smut so it probably sucks, but hey, I wrote 12k? How did that happen? Yikes… Feedback is appreciated—as longs as is respectful. Also, I wrote this with no particular Mark in mind, so feel free to imagine your favorite variant! The only exception is Mohawk Mark, since his unique hairstyle would immediately reveal he's not the mainstream version at the very beginning (unless you prefer to imagine the reader being dense and oblivious to that glaring detail...).I guess it doesn’t really matter. IMAGINE ANY MARK! And enjoy!!!

Ever since the news broke about cities around the world being destroyed by multiple versions of Invincible, you’ve been hiding. It’s the only logical thing to do—for someone powerless like you, there’s nothing else to do. You can only wait for the nightmare to end, for the heroes to rise victorious. For Mark to rise victorious.

So you stay in your home, clutching your phone, waiting for something—anything—to change. A day passes, and Mark still hasn’t answered your messages. He’s busy, you tell yourself, burying your face in your pillow to stifle the ache in your chest. Of course he’s busy. How could he not be? His hands are full with the weight of the world on his shoulders—fighting, saving, surviving. The news keeps reporting on the Invincibles’ rampage, updating the world daily. A stupid text message—of course Mark doesn’t have time to reply.

(You try not to think about how Mark has been pulling away from you, slowly but surely. How, ever since you confessed your feelings and ruined everything, he hasn’t looked at you the same. How you should’ve kept your heart locked tight, your love buried deep, just so you could keep him close. But you didn’t, and now nothing’s the same.)

So you wait, trapped within your four walls, your chest heavy with worry for your friends—your hero friends—who are out there risking their lives. You cling to the news like a lifeline, watching as the Invincibles tear through city after city, leaving thousands dead, all while they smile like it’s a game.

So you wait, and pray. Anxiety coils tight in your chest, pressing against your ribs until it feels like you might burst. But eventually, hunger forces you to move. You drag yourself to the kitchen, hands trembling as you fumble with the bread. You barely register the motion, your mind drifting to every terrible, unlikely scenario where Mark—your Mark—doesn’t make it. The thought alone makes your throat tighten.

It’s not good. You shouldn’t be this negative. But there are so many Invincibles, and if they’re anything like the Mark you know, then even the strongest heroes must be struggling. People will die. People you care about. And you try—God, you try—not to think about who, who, who.

Maybe that’s why you don’t hear him.

Not that there’s any particular sound to warn you. No footsteps, no creak of the floorboards. Just the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of the curtains by the open window.

One second, your eyes are on the bread on the counter, and the next, an unexpected voice brushes against your ear.

“Found you,” he whispers.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and you freeze, the knife slipping from your hand and clattering to the counter. Your breath hitches as you turn your head slowly.

(Vaguely, you think about Mark fussing over you like a mother hen, that familiar crease forming between his brows. “You really shouldn’t leave your window open like that,” he’d chide, voice laced with exasperation. “Anyone could get in.”

But you’d just laugh, brushing off his concern. “It’s a sixth floor, Mark. And you’re the only weirdo who does.”

I’ll always leave my window open for you, you wouldn’t say.

I’ll always be waiting for you to come, you couldn’t say.)

And then, there he is.

“Mark?” you breathe, relief crashing over you in an overwhelming wave. You don’t notice the differences—how his suit is wrong, smeared with fresh blood and viscera that drip onto your clean floor. How his eyes are too wide, too unblinking, something wild lurking behind them. You don’t see any of it. All you see is Mark standing there, safe, alive. “Oh my god, Mark.”

You rush to him without hesitation, arms outstretched, wrapping him up in a desperate embrace. You’ve been so worried, so consumed by the gnawing anxiety of losing him, that just hearing his voice, just seeing him, shatters any rational thought.

For a moment, he stiffens against you. But then, his arms lock around you with a force that nearly knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s too tight, too much, an intensity Mark has never held you with before. That should have been your first warning. But as soon as he hides his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, you forget about everything that seems wrong. You forget about the blood, the wild look in his eyes, the way his grip feels almost possessive. All you can focus on is the way he inhales deeply, as if he’s been starved of this—of you.

You shudder, heart pounding for reasons you can’t quite explain, and then he sighs, low and satisfied, the sound vibrating against your skin.

(“You smell really good,” Mark would murmur, crowding into your space, his nose nearly brushing your neck as he inhaled deeply. “Like, really good.”

You’d shove at his chest, face flaming despite yourself. “Christ, Grayson, you’re not a dog. Back off.”

He’d laugh—that stupid, sunshine-bright laugh that always made your pulse stutter—and lean against the lockers with infuriating ease. “Just being honest… Hey, you could tell me what perfume you use. Maybe then Amber would actually like me on our next date.”

Your chest would tighten, eyebrows knitting together before you could stop them.

“Can’t help you there, pretty boy,” you’d say, slamming your locker shut harder than necessary. When he raised an eyebrow at you, you’d flash a razor-thin smile. “Turns out it’s natural. One hundred percent me.”) 

“It’s you…” Mark whispers, his lips brushing against your neck. You hold your breath, trying to suppress the goosebumps rising on your skin, but it’s futile. His voice is low, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He squeezes you tighter, his arms like steel bands around you. “Oh, it’s you.” 

“Mark?” you ask hesitantly, confusion laced in your voice. “What is it? Are you hurt?” 

You try to push yourself away, hands pressing against his shoulders to create some space—because you can’t do this. You can’t handle him holding you like this, his voice hoarse and low against your neck, his breath hot enough to make you weak. You’re friends. Only friends. He’s made that much clear, and this—this isn’t fair.

But you barely manage to put a few inches between you before he whines, a sound so raw and desperate it catches you off guard. In an instant, he pulls you back in, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his grip unyielding.

“Mark?” you whisper again, voice trembling.

“Not yet,” he replies, his tone pleading. “Let me hold you one more minute.” 

And you don’t have the strength to refuse him.

Yet, as the seconds tick by and he keeps clinging to you like a child afraid to let go, you can’t help but notice the things you’ve been ignoring.

Why is Mark here? Why would he suddenly show up at your apartment when he’s supposed to be out there, saving the world? Why would Mark—the same Mark who’s been keeping you in this strange, distant limbo for weeks, who barely speaks to you beyond polite conversation, who’s been looking at you with a mix of discomfort, guilt, and something else you can’t quite place—be holding you so desperately right now?

Then your attention drifts to his clothes. His suit, but not really his suit. The blood—the thick, dark blood that, now that you’re truly paying attention, doesn’t belong to him. And it’s a lot, pooling around your feet, staining your floor, soaking your clothes.

A sickening weight settles in your stomach, curling, twisting, nagging at the back of your mind. Your arms go slightly limp around him, hesitation creeping in where relief had been just moments ago. Your brain, which had felt so light, so grateful just a minute ago at the sight of him safe, suddenly flashes back to the news. The destruction. The Invincibles terrorizing the world.

And you wonder.

Finally, he exhales—a slow, steady breath, like someone bracing themselves. Then, he lets go, his hands lingering on your arms as if he’s reluctant to break contact entirely.

“Y/N…” he whispers, a wide grin stretching across his face. It’s an unusual smile, unnatural, amused when it shouldn’t. “Here’s where you’ve been hiding, huh?”

“Hiding?” you ask, unsure. “Well—I can’t really do anything else, can I?”

Mark smiles spreads. But his eyes—there’s something in them you hadn’t noticed before. Wide, almost frantic, something raw burning behind them. The dark circles under them make him look exhausted. His hair is a mess. And yet, his expression softens as he studies you, gaze tracing over every feature like he’s trying to memorize you. It’s so intense, so intimate, it nearly steals your breath away.

“What—What are you doing here?” you ask, glancing away, flustered. “Is it—is it over? The fight?”

He coos, a gloveless hand reaching for your chin to tilt it back toward him with a grip that’s firm, almost possessive. “Oh, it’s over. There’s nothing to worry about anymore,” he says, voice light, too light, too nonchalant for someone who just came from a battle. Mark doesn’t speak like this after a fight—he’s never so casual, so detached.

(Mark’s hands would dig into his hair, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m just—I keep fucking up.”

“You’re not,” you’d tell him, hand pressing warm circles between his shoulder blades. “You save people, Mark. Every single day—”

“Bullshit!” He’d jerk upright so fast you’d recoil, chair screeching against the floor. “More people die than I save!” He’d pace, fingers twisting in his hair. “Stop—just stop telling me I’m not fucking up! Stop trying to—to make me feel better! You don’t understand how I feel!”

Your chest would tighten, fingers curling into empty air where he’d been. “I know I don’t.”

“Then stop!”

“However—” you’d stand up as well, eyes locking onto his as you caught his face in your hands, palms pressing gently against his cheeks. Mark would freeze, his breath hitching, wide eyes locked onto yours. “However, I know the world would be worse without you in it. Just thinking about the possibility of not having Invincible on our side—it scares me. Because you’re the only one strong enough to protect us. The only one who can stand up to the worst threats.”

Your thumb would brush over his cheekbone, touch impossibly gentle.

“And I’m sorry you have to carry that responsibility, Mark. But you’re not failing. Not to me.”

His expression would crumble, his eyes glistening with unshed tears before he’d pull you close, burying his face in your shoulder. His breath would shake, and you’d feel his fingers dig into the fabric of your shirt.

Your cheeks would burn, heart stuttering, but you'd swallow your feelings and offer only the comfort a friend should.

“I’m sorry,” he’d murmur, voice thick. “I’m sorry.”

You’d breathe in, closing your eyes. “Don’t be.”)

Your cheeks burn as he tugs you closer by the chin, forcing you to look straight at him. Your hand instinctively reaches for his wrist, but you don’t pull away. You should. But you don’t. Yet, you can’t stand the weight of his stare, so intense, so close, it feels like it’s peeling back layers of you, exposing everything you’ve tried to suppress.

“Nothing to worry about?” you force the words out, trying to ignore the heat flooding your face and the fluttering sensation in your stomach. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” he nods, his voice low and steady. Then, without warning, he leans closer again, his face burying into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply like he just couldn’t get enough. “Oh, shit. How I missed this.”

“Mark?” you ask quietly, voice trembling despite your efforts to steady it. His breath is hot and electric against your skin. The warmth blooming in your face spreads down, coiling through your body. “What are you doing? Jesus—this isn’t like you.”

“Oh, really?” he hums, lips ghosting over your pulse. The brush of them—so soft, so deliberate—makes you shudder. “Not even a little?”

“No…” you exhale, shivering when his arms snake around your waist, squeezing hard enough to make you squirm. “No. Mark. What—what are you doing?”

Your hands reach for the counter behind you, gripping the edge tightly, desperate for something to anchor you. But Mark—his scent, his body pressed so tightly against yours, his breath burning against the most sensitive part of your throat—makes it impossible to focus, impossible to think. It’s like everything around you is spinning, and you can’t make sense of any of it.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks, his tone amused and teasing, like this is all some game to him.

And that finally makes you scowl, the heat in your cheeks now burning with a mix of anger and humiliation. You inhale sharply, trying to regain your senses, but an ugly feeling of shame and hurt settles heavily in your chest.

You lift a hand and push him, or at least try to, your strength no match for his. Still, he complies, pulling away with a reluctant sigh, an annoyed expression flickering across his face as he finally tears himself from you.

“This isn’t funny, Mark,” you say, glancing away, unable to bear the intensity of his stare. “Stop it.” 

“Stop what?” he complains, his fingers digging into your waist as if he’s reluctant to let you go entirely.

“That,” you snap, gripping his wrists and prying his hands off. “You can’t just—just ignore me for weeks and then suddenly show up and treat me this way. It’s—it messes with my head! It’s not fair, Mark!” your breath comes heavy, your chest rising and falling as you struggle to form the words. Your eyes drop to the floor, and you add quietly, “Just stop.” 

He’s silent for a moment, and you can feel his gaze burning into you, searching, analyzing. His head tilts slightly, as if he’s trying to piece something together.

“We’re not… together?” he asks after a beat, his voice incredulous, like the idea is absurd.

The question makes you flinch, and a fresh wave of anger surges through you.

(“I’m sorry,” Mark would mutter, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes avoiding yours. “I just—don’t see you that way.”

You’d glance away, your lips pressed together in a tight line, trying to hold back the sting of rejection. “I’m sorry too.”

“It’s just—there’s someone else I wanna try it with.”

“I get it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know,” you sigh, wanting Earth to swallow you whole and disappear forever. But this is Mark, and you couldn’t bear living without Mark. “We’re still friends, right? This doesn’t have to change anything.”

He’d smile at you, his eyes creasing at the edges in the way you adored. “Yeah—Friends!”)

“Of course not!” you snap, voice rising. “You made it very clear you—you love someone else!”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you take a step back, putting some much-needed distance between you and his overwhelming presence. Was he mocking you? Playing some cruel joke?

But then again, as you pace around the kitchen, trying to hold yourself together, your eyes flicker to his odd suit, to the blood clinging to him, to the confused, almost baffled look on his face. And you think again—why is Mark here? Why, really?

Is he even Mark—

“But Y/N—” he whines, trailing after you like a lost puppy, his voice pleading, “—I would never, and I mean never look at anyone else but you!”

You frown, shaking your head. “I can’t even believe you’re saying this to me right now,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady. “Did you hit your head too hard fighting those lunatics?”

You don’t notice the way he tilts his head at your words, don’t catch the way his eyes darken, flashing with something unreadable.

“If you don’t have anything better to do, then just leave,” you huff, bitterness lacing your tone. “I don’t wanna—humiliate myself any more than I already have. You had your fun. So go away.”

You turn on your heel, heart pounding as you stride toward your bedroom where your phone is charging. There’s a gut feeling gnawing at you, a sensation you can’t shake, and you need confirmation. You need reassurance.

Is the Mark standing behind you even your Mark at all?

Your gut twists violently, but you can’t shake it. The second you step into your bedroom, your hand fishes for your phone, fingers trembling as you scroll through your contacts and press the button.

But Mark hasn’t left. He follows right after you, moving with an easy, unhurried stride, and when he realizes what you’re doing, a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face.

“O-ho?” he hums, amusement dripping from his voice. “My, my, Y/N, why’re you calling me?” 

His hand moves, effortlessly covering yours, fingers warm and firm over your knuckles. The phone rings—once, twice—and Mark leans in, his breath brushing against your ear, voice low, teasing.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You don’t need anyone else.” 

Your breath hitches. The sound of the third ring barely registers before he plucks the phone from your grasp with unnerving ease. You don’t even resist—your fingers tremble as they slip away from the device. Not that it would have done anything, anyway. The fifth ring echoes into silence, then clicks to Mark’s familiar voicemail. Useless.

The air in the room shifts, heavy and overwhelming. You watch, frozen, as he casually places your phone on your desk, just far enough out of reach.

Then, the moment your eyes meet his, you know.

This isn’t the Mark you know and love.

Mark hums, content, utterly unbothered as he slides back into your arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He sighs, pleased, like he belongs there, like nothing’s wrong.

Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe it’s fear, or disbelief, or survival instincts.

Because you let him.

Your arms fall open, letting him settle more comfortably against you, his weight pressing into you as he nuzzles closer. His warmth, his scent, the way he holds you tight—it’s all too much. And you—weak-kneed, breath unsteady—let him.

“Are you going to kill me?” you can’t help but ask eventually, voice quiet, barely a whisper.

He makes a confused sound in his throat, the vibration brushing against your skin and sending a shiver down your spine. “Hmm—not yet.”

Not yet. You should be terrified. Every nerve in your body should be screaming for you to run, to fight, to do something other than stand there, frozen, pliant in his grip. You know he’s dangerous. You know he could snap your neck without a second thought.

Yet—a curious thing happens in your brain.

You’re not afraid. You can’t be.

Because when your eyes settle on this Mark—and he looks exactly like the Mark you know, the Mark you have feelings for—something just… doesn’t click the way it should. Fear doesn’t come. Disgust doesn’t rise in your throat. Dread doesn’t tighten its grip around your chest.

Because he looks so much like Mark. And duh—he is Mark. But not yours, and that alone should be enough to make you want to bolt. Yet—as he nuzzles into your neck, his hot breath tingling against your skin, his solid body pressing into yours with a firmness that feels both grounding and overwhelming, and the way he called you ‘sweetheart’—it all makes you want to give in to him.

The feelings you’ve buried—the ones you’ve shoved down since the day Mark rejected you, since the day you forced yourself to be okay with just being friends—are clawing their way back to the surface, stronger, faster, more consuming than ever.

“Oh yeah, you don’t have to worry though,” he says, his lips brushing against your pulse in a way that feels deliberate, calculated. “It’d be such a waste to kill you so fast. I came here for you, after all.”

His lips trail along your neck, slow and purposeful, and despite everything—despite knowing this isn’t right—you sigh, shivering at the unfamiliar, intoxicating affection. He moves upward, lips ghosting over your skin until he reaches your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“Mark…” you breathe, eyes fluttering shut, body melting under his touch.

“Ohh, I know, baby,” he mutters, voice thick with amusement, dripping with smug satisfaction. You can feel the smirk curving against your skin. “I know everything you like. I know every inch of you. Let me show you.”

Your body betrays you.

Your mind knows better—knows that this Mark isn’t yours, that the weight of his body pressing into yours should send alarms blaring through your head. But when his fingers skim your waist, when his breath fans hot against your skin, when he sighs like he belongs here—your body doesn’t fight him.

It welcomes him.

Your hands twitch at your sides, uncertain, but you don’t push him away.

“I can’t believe this universe’s Mark wouldn’t date you,” he muses, fingers wandering, exploring, curling behind your back before cupping your ass and squeezing. A choked sound catches in your throat as heat floods through you, your knees nearly giving out. “I mean—look at you.” His voice dips, teasing, triumphant. “Barely resisting.”

You bite your lip, swallowing a sound you refuse to let escape.

He laughs then—open, mocking, and so, so cocky. “And here I thought I’d have to fight this Mark over you, but—” his grin widens, wicked and pleased. “I don’t think I have any competition, sweetheart.” His lips brush against your jaw, his grip tightening possessively. “You’re all mine.”

He starts to push against you, forcing you to walk backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress. You fall onto the bed, breathless, your heart racing as he looms over you, his eyes dark and hungry.

“Just mine, okay?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with possessiveness. “I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you—not even him. Not even this universe’s pathetic version of me.” He scoffs, his hands gripping the hem of your t-shirt and tugging it off with a harsh, almost desperate motion. “Loving someone else? When I have you? He’s a fool. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. Y/N—you have no idea how much I’ve missed you, how much I’ve—” 

He groans, biting his lip hard enough to leave a mark, his eyes raking over your exposed skin like he’s starving and you’re the only thing that can satisfy him. You shiver, a deep blush spreading across your face. It’s too much, too fast, and you feel utterly exposed as his gaze devours every inch of you. His expression twists, a mix of desperation and adoration, as if he’s memorizing every detail of your body, committing it to memory so he’ll never forget. His fingers twitch, hovering over your skin but not touching, like he’s savoring the moment, stretching it out just to make you squirm.

It’s too intimate, too intense, and for a fleeting second, you forget that he’s dangerous.

“Stop staring,” you weakly complain, turning your face away.

“Oooh, oh-ho-ho, yeah, baby, you’re just like I remember...” he laughs, his breathing uneven, his voice shaking with a wild, almost manic energy. “Yeah—I’ll never let him have you. Never let anyone else even look at you. You’re just mine—holy shit.” 

And then he dives.

His lips crash into yours, claiming rather than kissing, his entire body pressing you down into the mattress, forcing your legs open. It’s desperate, feverish—starving. His tongue pushes past your lips, stealing your breath, and you moan into his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as you struggle to keep up with his messy, frantic rhythm. He kisses you with a ferocity that leaves you dizzy. He groans and growls against your lips as his hands roam your body, gripping and groping every inch of exposed skin. His fingers brush against your nipples, teasing and possessive, and you can only take it, breathless and overwhelmed, your mind spinning as he claims you in every way he can.

“Yeah, baby, keep making those sounds for me,” he murmurs against your lips before diving in again, swallowing every breath, every whimper like it fuels him. “So, so good. Fuck, you have no idea—it keeps me going.”

Your breath stutters as his fingers pinch your nipple, hard enough to make your back arch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. His free hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat as he grinds his hips down. Your legs part without a second thought, welcoming him, urging him closer until he’s right there, pressing into you, slotting himself between your thighs.

“That’s it, spread wider for me,” he pants, voice dripping with dark approval. “You’re still so good, fuck.”

Your lips burn, swollen and tingling from his kisses, and when you blink up at him through your lashes, you catch the glint in his eyes. His pupils are blown wide, the usual warm brown of his eyes swallowed by something feral. That smirk—all sharp teeth and predatory hunger—should terrify you. Because the Mark you know has never looked like this before. This unhinged and unsteady. It’s a sharp, gut-wrenching reminder—this isn’t your Mark. This isn’t the sweet, awkward Mark who you fell for, the one you trusted. This Mark is wrong, a twisted mirror image, and you should be fighting him, shoving him away, clawing your way out even if it’s futile—

But then he leans down and presses the softest, faintest kiss to the tip of your nose.

And your mind blanks.

Because holy shit—Mark, the man you’ve been pining over for months, years, is kissing you. And it feels so good, so intoxicating, it messes with your head, scrambles your thoughts into something dangerous.

You know it’s wrong. You know this isn’t him. It’s like pouring your feelings into a stranger, a shadow wearing his face. But fuck—this Mark grinds against you, slow and deliberate, and you feel him, the hard press of him against you, thick and aching with want.

You gasp, body tensing, startled by how badly he wants you.

“Ohh, baby,” he whines, voice thick with desperate need, like he’s been starving for this moment for lifetimes. His fingers dig into your hips hard enough to leave bruises, marking you as his. “Let me—” His hips roll again, dragging his thick length against your own, and you choke on air. “Let me make you feel good. Let me make you come, please, baby, please.”

Teeth scrape along your jaw before finding that sweet spot beneath your ear—the one you didn’t even know was sensitive—and you arch off the bed with a broken moan when he sucks harshly at the skin. His lips, his tongue, his teeth—he maps every inch of you like he’s memorized you, like he already knows every single weak spot before you even realize them yourself.

“Please? Please?” he keeps begging, voice so raw, so desperate, so utterly pathetic it makes you dizzy.

And you—you’re still too caught off guard to react properly. Because Mark—your Mark—never looked at you like this. Never even wanted you like this. But this Mark? He’s rutting against you like an animal in heat, his massive cock straining against his suit as he whimpers your name, making your head spin.

It’s wrong. It’s so, so wrong. Because Mark rejected you. Because you told yourself you’d be fine with just being friends. Because this isn’t even him—just the evil, dangerous version of him.

(Mark would slip into your open arms, his body heavy with exhaustion.

“I just—I’m scared,” he’d admit, voice muffled against your shoulder. “Scared of turning into my father. Scared of hurting people. And after everything with Angstrom…” his voice would trail off, fingers twitching against your back like he’s afraid to hold on too tightly.

You’d run a soothing hand along his spine, grounding him. “What do you mean?” you’d ask, gentle, coaxing him to keep talking.

“He—he talked about me like I was a monster,” Mark would whisper, voice tight. “Like there’s a version of me out there who destroyed everything. A version of me who’d kill everyone I love. A version of me who’d… destroy you.”

A slow, quiet exhale would leave your lips. “But you’re this Mark,” you’d remind him. “You’re my best friend. And you’d never do that.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then, slowly, Mark would sags against you, burying himself deeper into your warmth.

“Yeah,” he’d murmur, barely more than a breath. “Never.”)

But when you move—when you grind up into him, your body answering before your mind can stop it—he makes a noise, something between a groan and a sob, and it’s so wrecked, so full of relief it makes your stomach twist.

Your arms loop around his neck, dragging him closer, pressing your bodies so tight together you can feel his heartbeat hammering against your own. And when his teeth sink into your throat, sucking so hard you know it’s going to bruise, a sharp, broken sound escapes your lips.

The room burns around you, filled with the obscene sounds of his desperate whines and your shaky gasps, the slick friction of fabric between your joined bodies.

“Yeah—” you gasp, nails raking down his back as pleasure coils tight in your gut. “Fuck, Mark, just—Do it. Do it.”

He groans, deep and guttural, a sound so full of possession it sends a sharp pulse of heat down your spine. Then his teeth sink into your neck again—hard enough that you know he’s breaking skin. And when his tongue licks the wound, sucking the blood like he owns you—you know he’s got you.

Your mind fractures into white-hot static as every rational thought—the blood crusted on his suit, the madness in his eyes, the thousands he’s slaughtered, the fact this isn’t your Mark—dissolves into primal need. Nothing exists but the electric pleasure coiling tighter in your gut with each desperate grind of his hips.

“Mark,” you sob, voice breaking as your body arches against him of its own volition. Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him closer. “Oh god, Mark. Fuck. Mark.”

A guttural snarl vibrates against your throat as he claims your mouth again, his tongue pushing past your lips in a violent mimicry of what his hips are doing against yours. The growing dampness between your thighs should shame you, but all you can focus on is the delicious friction, the way his teeth scrape your bottom lip when you moan too loud.

But it’s still not enough.

Not with these fucking clothes between you, not with the way you’re both rutting against each other like wild animals, frantic and insatiable. It’s maddening. You need more.

Your nails claw at his back, at his suit, needing to feel his skin the way he’s feeling yours.

“Get it off,” you manage to gasp between feverish kisses. “Please, Mark.”

With a dark chuckle that sends shivers down your spine, he rears back just enough to grip his suit’s collar. The fabric shreds like tissue paper beneath his strength, revealing sweat-slick skin you immediately map with trembling fingers. His pupils blow wider at your touch, chest heaving as he crushes you back into the mattress.

“Oh yeah, Y/N...” he purrs, his voice thick with satisfaction as his fingertips trace the dark marks blooming across your neck like bruises. Proof that you belong to him. “Bet this universe’s Mark never made you feel this way, did he? Never touched you like this?” his grip tightens suddenly, making you gasp. “I’m the first, aren’t I? The only one who’s ever had you like this?”

You whimper, nodding without thinking, legs locking tight around his waist, keeping him close, keeping him there.

His grin stretches, wild and triumphant. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing,” he murmurs, his hand trailing down with agonizing slowness—down your neck, across your heaving chest, brushing over your sensitive nipples, gliding down your stomach... Until, finally, his fingers settle between your legs, pressing against the thick, aching bulge in your sweatpants, squeezing just enough to rip a needy moan from your lips. “Look at you,” he breathes, eyes wild with possessive hunger. “So fucking perfect for me. So ready to be mine. Does your Mark know what a desperate little thing you are? How easily you fall apart under my hands?”

His smile tilts, both awestruck and predatory. Then, he leans in until his lips brush yours, his hand working you through the fabric with rough, perfect strokes that have you trembling.

“So hard just for me,” he murmurs against your mouth. “He could never make you feel like this. Never touch you like I do.” His teeth graze your bottom lip. “He could never compare. I’m better, I’m stronger—”

He peppers kisses along the corner of your mouth, your flushed cheeks, tender and teasing, a sharp contrast to the way his pace quickens—faster, rougher.

“—I could make you feel even better,” he purrs, pressing his lips against your ear, voice so low, so filthy it makes you shudder. “Make you scream my name, so loud and clear, maybe the other Mark could even hear you.”

Your breath stutters, a deep moan slipping from your lips, body twisting under his touch.

“Ohh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” he chuckles, breath warm against your neck, teasing, taunting. “You’d love to let him watch. Love to let him see you break for me. Let him realize what he’s lost—what he’ll never have again.”

His voice dips lower, sinking into something darker, something twisted.

“You’d let me fuck you in front of him, wouldn’t you?”

Your body jolts, heat flashing through you in a violent rush, shame curling in your stomach like a vice.

“N-no—!” you gasp, eyes squeezing shut, face burning with humiliation. “No, I wouldn’t—”

But your body betrays you. Trembling, surrendering, completely giving in—your hips rut desperately against his hand, your pre-cum soaking through the fabric, staining it.

“Liar,” Mark breathes against your swollen lips before crushing them again in a kiss that’s hot, rough, and bruising. “I can feel how much you want it. How much you need it.”

His thumb presses cruelly against the head of your cock, rubbing slow, torturous circles through the fabric, making you see stars. Your whole body jolts, a strangled gasp tearing from your throat.

“Maybe I should drag him here,” he whispers, grinning against your lips. “Make him watch as I fuck you so good, you forget he’s your Mark Grayson. Make him see how perfectly you take me—how you were always meant to be... ours.”

You shake your head frantically, words lost between your ragged gasps. “No—”

But your back arches, cock throbbing obscenely against his palm. The more he whispers these filthy fantasies, the harder you get, hips stuttering, desperate and eager, seeking more, more, more, as his words sink deep into your brain, filling you with something forbidden, something wrong—something you like.

The pressure builds unbearable. His fingers move with ruthless precision, stroking, squeezing, dragging you to the edge, pulling sounds from you that should be humiliating—but you can’t stop.

Then you think about it. About your Mark. The one who’s still out there, fighting, struggling, exhausted and worn down. You think about what would he think. What would he do if he saw you like this. You imagine your Mark’s confused face watching—the horror in his eyes as he sees you come apart under his doppelgänger’s touch, moaning and whimpering like some cheap slut desperate for any version of him.

“Mark,” you sob as waves of shame and pleasure crash over you. “Mark, Mark—”

Mark exhales a breathy chuckle, eyes dark with fascination. “Oh-ho-ho. That’s it, baby. I’m here. I’m right here.”

And then it hits you.

White-hot pleasure blinds you completely as you spill in your sweatpants like some untouched virgin, his name tumbling from your lips in a broken prayer. Your body arches violently, convulsing as your legs clamp around his waist like a vice. Your hands claw at his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him, to this moment, to reality itself.

“Jesus…” he exhales, almost in awe, his grip tightening possessively. “My god… so perfect.”

You’re reduced to a trembling, gasping mess—shaky legs, toes curling, vision whiting out as the aftershocks rip through you. Mark watches it all with a smug, hungry smirk, his eyes locked onto your face, drinking in every twitch, every quiver like he’s trying to memorize it, to brand it into his mind.

“Yeah—let it out, Y/N,” he whispers, voice thick with satisfaction. “I did this to you. I made you feel this good.”

(“Does that feel good?” Mark would mutter into your ear, his hands still working awkwardly at the knots in your back.

You’d groan, face mushed into the pillow. ”Yup. Feels good. Really good.”

“I still can’t believe you’re making me do this,” he’d grumble, brows pinching together.

You’d stifle a laugh, eyes fluttering shut. ”You lost the bet, Grayson. Now keep massaging my back. My muscles are still wrecked from all the damn work you put me through covering you at Uni.”

“William never complains.”

“Because William sucks at covering! The only reason you’re not suspended is because I’m just too good at lying—Oh! Yeah! Right there, don’t stop,” you’d sigh, melting into the mattress. ”Oh my god, yes…”

His hands would freeze, fingers pressing hesitantly into your skin. ”…Can you stop making those sounds?”

“What sounds?” you’d murmur, half-dazed.

Mark would be quiet for a beat, then resume with a sigh. “Never mind. How about this? Does that feel good?”

“Mmmh, holy shit—yes!”)

Finally, you sink into the mattress, chest rising and falling in desperate, uneven breaths as your climax wears off. Your head falls back against the pillows, glazed eyes barely tracking Mark’s movements. His fingers leave the bulge in your sweatpants, moving to your waistband, fumbling briefly before tugging your sweatpants and underwear down, inch by inch.

“Just let me take care of you,” he mumbles, dazed. “Always gonna take care of you.”

The cold air bites at your oversensitive cock as he yanks it free, his pupils blown wide as he stares at what’s his. Before you can even process the exposure, Mark flashes you a wicked grin before his lips wrap around your cock, hot and wet and devastating. Your hips jolt, body convulsing at the sensation. His tongue swirls, savoring, exploring, a deep groan rumbling in his throat as he tastes you. The overstimulation is unbearable, electric. A strangled, pathetic cry rips from your throat as your hands fly to his head, fingers tangling in his hair, trying—failing—to push him away.

“Mark!” you jolt, thighs snapping shut around his head, trembling, squeezing, clutching. “Oh my god. Oh my god—oh my god. No—”

A deep, satisfied groan rumbles through him, vibrating against your cock and making you yelp. His hands pin your thrashing hips down, holding you there, making sure you take it.

“Mark—”

“Mine,” he snarls between filthy, wet sucks. “Gonna taste every fucking drop.”

The overstimulation borders on painful as he works you ruthlessly through your sensitivity, your cries growing increasingly broken. And yet, somewhere beneath the overwhelming pleasure, a traitorous part of you preens at being so desperately wanted.

Wanted. By Mark. Not your Mark, not the one who’d gently rejected you, but a Mark all the same. A version from some twisted reality who’d torn through dimensions just to claim you. And it sickens you—the satisfaction curling in your gut, the twisted pleasure of knowing that somewhere, in some reality, Mark has always wanted you. Craved you. And if he’s here, willing to ruin you, to unravel you with nothing but his mouth, then who are you to stop him?

His tongue works you over with filthy precision, hot and wet and perfect in ways you’d never dared fantasize about. You writhe beneath him, sheets twisting in your fists, as your gaze drops to where he’s sucking you off—Mark Grayson, on his knees for you, eyes close in joy. The sight alone punches a broken noise from your throat.

“F-fuck—!” you arch violently, tears spilling as pleasure crests into near-pain. “Fuck, I can’t—Mark, please, I can’t—!”

Finally, he lets you go with a slick, obscene ‘pop.’ He pants, breath heavy, lips red and wet as he leans over you. You’re gasping too, your chest rising and falling in erratic bursts, your body trembling like you’ve run yourself into the ground.

Mark watches you, gaze trailing over your flushed skin, your wrecked, tear-streaked face. And then he grins.

“I love you like this,” he murmurs, voice rough. His thumb swipes at the wetness on your cheek. “Love it when you cry.”

(“I hate when you cry,” Mark would say, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. ”I hate it even more when it’s me who made you cry.”

You’d slap his hand away, face twisting into a scowl. ”Shut up, Grayson. How dare you—how dare you act upset.” Your voice would shake, anger sharpening every word. ”You can’t even say sorry. Can’t even fake an excuse for why you’ve treated me like this, ignoring me for months… And don’t try to deny it—William noticed too!”

He’d wince, eyes darting away. ”I can’t—I can’t say it.”

“That you’re sorry?” you’d scoff, disbelief dripping from the words.

Mark would bite his lip, shaking his head desperately. ”No! Of course not. It’s—the reason.”

“The reason you’ve been pulling away?” you’d snap, swiping the back of your hand across your wet cheek. Then, it would hit you—heart lurching. ”Is it… because I confessed? I thought we were past that. That we’d still be friends no matter what…”

Your voice would crack, gaze dropping to the floor.

Mark would flinch, shoulders slumping in defeat. ”It’s part of the reason.”

“I don’t understand,” you’d murmur, voice breaking. ”You said it didn’t matter. You promised it wouldn’t change anything.”

“I don’t understand either,” he’d admit, hand scrubbing roughly through his hair. ”Just—just give me time. I need to… figure some things out.”

“You won’t even tell me?”

Mark would press his lips into a tight line, guilt flashing across his face as his gaze caught on your tear-streaked cheeks. ”I can’t.”)

A helpless sob rips from your throat as he surges forward, capturing your bruised lips in a desperate, feverish kiss. He moans into your mouth, deep and needy, and you can taste yourself on his tongue—hot, salty, intoxicating. The realization only makes you burn hotter.

Then, a moan rattles in your chest as his free hand trails lower, fingers teasing where you’re most sensitive. Your gasp is sharp when one presses against your entrance.

“W-wait—” you huff, shaky hands pressing against his broad shoulders. “No… I’ve never—never done this…”

Mark freezes, his expression shifting from surprise to something terrifyingly euphoric. “Oohh, Y/N can you get any more perfect for me? My god—not even in my universe were you a virgin.” He chuckles, low and dark. “Were you saving yourself for him? Hoping he’d finally see you the way I do? He’s such a fool—But I will make you feel good. I’ll make you feel so good.”

As he speaks, his hands roam, gripping your thighs with an iron hold before pushing them up—forcing you open, leaving you vulnerable beneath him. Your face flushes with embarrassment and arousal, your hands instinctively gripping the sheets tightly at the sheer obscenity of the position. He flashes a playful grin, his breath warm against your ass, causing you to gasp and breathe unevenly.

“What— What are you doing?” you stammer weakly, squirming uncomfortably, peering down with shame as Mark leans over your hole, a wide smirk across his face. You realize a second too late was he’s up to. “Wait, wait—Oh my god!”

Your back arches, mouth letting go a deep, throaty groan and your eyes rolling back when Mark inserts his tongue, licking and lapping at the inner walls of your hole, sucking and nibling and kissing. Your head throws back against the pillows, skin burning so hot you swear you’ll melt into the sheets. The sensation is overwhelming—Mark’s hot tongue delves between your cheeks with shameless enthusiasm, licking and probing with obscenely wet sounds that make you squirm uncontrollably. You writhe in delicious contradiction, torn between pulling away and pressing deeper into his merciless mouth.

“Mmh, look at you—” Mark pants between greedy licks, his voice thick with arousal. “That’s it. Let me hear how good I make you feel.”

You’re beyond responding, your hips stuttering and your asshole clenching and unclenching with the unfamiliar, yet intoxicating sensation. The pleasure is so intense you bite your lip raw trying to contain the filthy sounds fighting to escape. It’s useless, though, because Mark keeps eating you out and it only takes a few minutes of this sweet torture until you start whimpering and mewling like a little whore.

“F-fuck—!” the curse tears from your throat as your toes curl and back arches off the bed. Your cock stirs back to full hardness, dripping pathetically against your stomach. “Fuck—Mark, my god! Don’t stop, fuck—Oh my god—”

You’ve never been touched like this before—it never even crossed your mind, not even in your wildest fantasies. But damn, it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Who would have thought that being pleasured like this could feel so incredibly good? You might just climax right then and there with Mark’s warm, skilled tongue working its magic, and you’d die happily. Your erection is unbelievably hard, leaking pre-cum onto your stomach, but you don’t dare touch yourself because you’re too busy gripping the sheets for stability.

But then Mark pulls away, and you moan and whimper with need, trying to tighten around him in an attempt to draw him back.

Mark smirks and chuckles, and you feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment at your own lewdness.

“God, baby, you’re so perfect for me,” Mark rasps, pulling back just enough to loom over you. His lips glisten with your taste, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “Look at you—already falling apart just from my mouth. Think you’re ready to take me, sweetheart? Think that pretty little hole can handle my cock?”

You hadn’t noticed before, too lost in the haze of pleasure—but Mark’s hips have been moving restlessly the whole time, fucking the air with desperate, instinctive thrusts as he devoured you. Now, as he looms over you, you can feel him, hot and throbbing, grinding against your thighs through the thin fabric of his suit. And fuck—he’s massive. Even through the material, you can feel the sheer size of him, the way he twitches with every needy thrust. And yeah—his mouth has left you slick, loose, ready to be filled—but shit. Viltrumites have monster cocks, and it scares you.

And yet—and yet, as Mark moves against you, teasing, testing, making sure you feel the sheer girth of him even through fabric, all you can feel is hunger, a desperate need.

So, huskily, with glazed eyes, you whisper, “Yes, Mark. Yes.”

He doesn’t make you beg twice. One hand tears the remaining suit away like tissue paper, his cock springing free—thick, veiny, and already leaking. The flushed tip bobs against your thigh, leaving a sticky trail as your breath catches.

“Fuck, Y/N—” Mark’s voice breaks as he strokes himself, his wild eyes drinking in every tremble of your body. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. How many nights I dreamed of this moment. You—here, with me again.” His breath shudders, his grip tightening. “Had to find you. Had to make you mine again. I missed you. I missed you.”

His feverish rambling sends your pulse into overdrive, and for one fleeting moment, you wonder about that other life—what version of you could make a man this desperate, this feral with need? What was their relationship like? How did it end? How did Mark end up here, in your universe, searching for you? But then Mark’s strong hands are spreading your thighs wide, his body settling heavily between them, and all coherent thought evaporates in a rush of dizzying arousal.

Shit, shit—Mark Grayson, the boy you’ve been in love with since eighth grade, is about to fuck you. And shit—that thought alone makes your cock ache, your hole clench with anticipation, even as your mind screams that this isn’t your Mark. Your real Mark is probably fighting for his life somewhere. Maybe even dying. And here you are, letting his evil counterpart have you—willingly.

That makes you a horrible friend. You’re disgusting. A traitor. You’re giving in to every dirty fantasy you’ve ever had, every longing you’ve buried for years, all because this Mark—the wrong Mark—looks at you with the hunger you’ve always dreamed of seeing in your Mark’s eyes.

It’s sick. It’s twisted. You’ll never be able to look your Mark in the eye again. Guilt twists in your gut, heavy and suffocating.

You should stop.

You should have never let it go this far.

But then—

“Shh, baby, I got you,” this Mark whispers, shattering your spiraling thoughts. His voice is soft, almost reverent, as he lines himself up. “I got you. Gonna make you feel so good.”

You shiver, heat flushing your skin as his cock presses against your entrance, thick and hard and real. Instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist, locking behind him, pulling him in.

Mark groans, deep and satisfied, his fingers pressing into your thighs as he grins down at you.

“Fuck, yes,” he hums appreciatively, running possessive hands along your trembling thighs. “You’re so good, Y/N. So good.”

His fingers dig deep enough to leave bruises as he drinks down every gasp, every shudder of your oversensitive body like a man starved. And just when desperation coils in your gut—when the teasing pressure at your entrance becomes unbearable—Mark sheathes himself inside you in one brutal thrust.

“Fuck—!” your cry shatters the air as your body bows taut, back arching off the bed. The stretch burns, his thickness forcing you open in ways that make your vision whiten at the edges. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”

He’s massive, painfully so. You can feel every ridge, every vein as your body struggles to accommodate him. It’s too much—you’re certain he’ll split you in two.

And yet... The fullness is intoxicating. It burns. It aches. But it also satisfies something deep within you, a primal need you hadn’t even realized was there. Tears prickle at your eyes as you clench the sheets, overwhelmed by the sheer reality of Mark Grayson buried inside you.

“Fuck...” Mark’s voice is guttural, dripping with satisfaction as he bottoms out. “God, you’re tight.” His hips grind deeper, wringing a broken whimper from your throat. “Taking me so perfect—fuck, you feel incredible. Like you were waiting just for me.”

And then, slowly, oh so fucking slowly, he begins to pull back out, dragging a wrecked moan from your lips. Your fingers clutch at his shoulders, desperate for something solid, something to hold onto as he sets a rhythm, each movement sending heat curling through your veins.

“That’s it,” Mark pants against your neck, his breath scalding as he inhales your scent like an addict. “Just like that… you’re perfect. Nobody else could take me like this.” His teeth graze your pulse point possessively. “Only you. Only mine.”

The next thrust is deeper than the last, stealing the breath from your lungs and making your hips jolt up instinctively, a surprised sound catching in your throat.

“Oh god, Mark,” you whine, nails digging into his back, voice breaking on a breathy moan. “Ah—ngh—fuck—”

The agonizingly slow drag of his cock has your vision swimming, pain and pleasure blurring into one overwhelming sensation. He’s so thick, so long, so heavy inside you. Every time he pushes in, it feels impossibly deeper, stretching you, filling you—until it makes your stomach bulge slightly, a small bump appearing in the flat plane of your abdomen.

Mark groans, eyes going wide, his hand settling at the base of your belly. “God, look at you,” he breathes, awed. His fingers press into the bulge, tracing the outline of himself inside you. “Fuck, I’m buried so deep in you. Right here, Y/N—you feel that? That’s me claiming you. Oh-ho-ho, goddamn, look what I do to you.”

His dark chuckle vibrates against your skin even as awe colors his voice. He punctuates each word with a punishing thrust, fingers digging into the visible outline of himself inside you like he wants to brand the shape of his possession into your flesh. And you can’t look away either—because holy shit, this is the first time you’ve ever felt anything like this, and it’s almost too much. Too intense. Too consuming.

Tears streak down your flushed cheeks as your legs tremble violently. The initial pain has melted into overwhelming pleasure, your body adjusting to his impossible size with desperate, shameful eagerness.

“More,” you rasp between gasps, arching up shamelessly. “Faster. Harder. Please—”

Mark chuckles darkly, burying his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deep. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice thick with hunger. “Gonna make you feel good. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

The dark promise in his words should terrify you. Instead, it sends another pulse of white-hot pleasure straight to your aching cock. Then he moves—harder, faster—tearing the air from your lungs, leaving you breathless and reeling. Your body clenches around him, every nerve alight as a broken whimper escapes your lips.

“Mark—Mark—” you mumble his name between gasps, unable to form anything else. “Mark, ah—Mark—mmh—fuck—”

A sharp cry rips from your throat as Mark shifts his angle, hitting a spot inside you that sends a violent shudder through your entire body. Heat surges down your spine, forcing you to arch off the bed, toes curling, every nerve alight with raw, electric pleasure.

“Fuck! There! Mark—ngh—fuck!” you moan, biting down on your lip so hard you taste the faint tang of blood. Mark growls, his movements deep and unrelenting, each thrust pressing you further into the mattress. The bed creaks beneath the force, your skin burning where his grip tightens. “There! Keep going! Fuck, it feels so good—Mark!”

Then—through the haze of heat, through the sinful sounds of skin against skin, of your wrecked moans and his low, animalistic groans—something intrudes. A sharp, buzzing vibration. Your ringtone.

Your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, flickering toward your desk—just a few feet away, where Mark tossed your phone. You’re aware the screen glows, the sound ringing in the background, before another brutal thrust wipes all coherent thought away. Let it ring. Nothing matters except the way Mark’s splitting you apart, remaking you as his with every snap of his hips.

The phone rings and rings… then stops. And you don’t even notice when it goes silent, too preoccupied with the drag of Mark’s cock inside you, the way your nails sink into the broad expanse of his back, leaving behind deep, angry marks.

“Perfect,” Mark rasps against your ear, his voice wrecked and reverent, “Taking me so fucking good, Y/N. Made for this. Made for me.”

Your thighs shake violently around him, toes curling as his filthy praise reduces you to nothing but lustful moans and pleading whimpers.

Then—your phone starts ringing again.

This time, Mark notices.

He stills inside you with a low snarl, his body tensing as he straightens slightly, casting an annoyed glance toward the device. But when he reaches for it—his cock still buried deep inside you, making you whimper—his expression darkens with wicked amusement as he reads the caller ID.

“Well, well,” he purrs, looming over you once more, planting one hand beside your head while the other dangles the phone just inches from your flushed, dazed face. “Take a look at this.”

Your stomach drops at the familiar name flashing on screen. It’s Mark—your Mark—calling you.

“Should we answer it, baby?” he muses, tilting his head as his lips curl into a smirk. “Let him hear what you sound like when you’re properly fucked?”

“No—!” you gasp, wrecked and breathless, your heart hammering against your ribs as you reach for the phone, desperate to snatch it from his grasp. “Mark—”

But he’s quicker.

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, lifting a single finger in mock reprimand, effortlessly keeping the phone out of reach. His other hand tightens around your hip, keeping you pinned. “You need to get your shit together first, Y/N. Wouldn’t want him to know what you’re doing, now would you?” His eyes gleam with wicked delight. “With that pornographic little voice of yours—so wrecked, so needy for my cock…” He leans in, his breath fanning over your ear. “I bet he’d figure it out immediately.”

A shudder rips through you.

Your vision blurs—tears welling at the edges, cold fear twisting deep in your gut. But worse—worse—is the way your body betrays you. The way you clench around him involuntarily at the thought. At the sheer humiliation of it.

Of your Mark listening on the other end. Unaware. Oblivious. As his variant fucks and ruins you.

“See? I know you,” he murmurs, his voice syrup-thick with satisfaction as he strokes your cheek with unnerving tenderness. His free hand cups your face, his thumb dragging over your lips. “I know exactly what kind of fucked-up little thing you are.”

His grin widens as he watches your lips tremble, your breath coming in quick, uneven pants.

“I’m glad you’re the same here as you were in my universe, Y/N. I adore you like this.” Then, his tone dips lower, velvet wrapped around something dangerous. “Now—try to keep him distracted while I take my time with you, yeah?”

Before you can react, he thrusts—sharp and sudden—just once, but it’s enough to steal the air from your lungs. A strangled gasp escapes you, body reacting on instinct, pulse hammering as he stills once more.

Mark leans in, his breath hot against your parted lips, his amusement dripping with warning. “Otherwise, he’ll keep calling,” he murmurs. “And I don’t want him interrupting us.”

Your stomach twists in knots of anticipation and dread. The phone is still ringing, still just out of reach—Mark’s name flashing on the screen, a second away from being answered. And all the while, this Mark remains inside you—hot, solid, pressing deeper with each second of silence.

“Okay...” you breathe, forcing air into your lungs. “Okay.”

Mark’s smirk turns predatory as he brushes a featherlight kiss to your nose before tapping the answer button, offering you the phone back—and as soon as you grab it and press it to your ear, he immediately resumes his slow, deliberate thrusts that make your toes curl.

“Y/N? Y/N!” The real Mark’s voice—familiar, concerned, kind—crackles through the speaker. He sounds breathless, frantic. “Are you okay? You called and I couldn’t answer but then—but then I called back and you didn’t pick up, and I’m—I’m worried—”

You squeeze your eyes shut, teeth sinking into your lip, fighting so hard to keep quiet. But the Mark above you doesn’t make it easy, his hips moving with cruel precision, his smirk deepening as he watches you struggle.

“…Y/N?”

“I’m here,” you choke out, voice miraculously steady despite the way your body arches into each thrust. The not-yours-Mark’s eyes glint with dark amusement as he increases his pace. “I’m... okay.”

Your voice wavers. You can’t help it. A shaky sigh escapes when he ducks his head to nip at your throat, his hot breath raising goosebumps across your oversensitive skin.

“Thank God,” your actual Mark exhales, the relief in his voice almost painful to hear. “Listen, Cecil just— he lost track of a variant. Said he was heading your way, Y/N.”

The not-yours-Mark stills inside you, his expression shifting to something dangerously intrigued. “Oh?” he murmurs against your pulse.

“Y-yeah?” you blurt too loudly, praying the real Mark didn’t hear him.

Your fingers dig into the sheets as the not-yours-Mark begins moving again with renewed purpose, each thrust calculated to wring helpless sounds from your throat while you struggle to keep your breathing even.

“Yeah,” your actual Mark replies through the phone, his voice strained. “I’ll—I’ll come your way. Or the GDA will pick you up, but—it’s dangerous to stay in your apartment! Please, just—just leave. Right now.”

You choke back another gasp, barely holding yourself together. No—you can’t let Mark come here. You can’t let the GDA get involved either. The humiliation would be unbearable—agents witnessing you like this, being taken apart by the same monster who probably leveled cities and slaughtered thousands before claiming you in your own bed.

“No!” you blurt out, voice cracking under the weight of too many emotions. “No, nngh, fuck—you can’t!”

You’re losing control. This Mark—the wrong Mark—is hitting your prostate with every brutal thrust, his teeth sinking into that sensitive spot on your neck while his fingers twist your nipples mercilessly. Stars explode behind your eyelids as another lewd groan escapes you. Virgin or not, there’s no way you could stay quiet under this assault. You realize with dawning horror that he doesn’t want you quiet—he wants you loud, to moan, to let your Mark hear you. To let him know.

That yeah—he’s here.

And yeah—he’s fucking you.

For a moment, there’s only silence on the other end of the call.

Then finally, Mark speaks again, slower this time. “This—this isn’t negotiable, Y/N,” he says, though there’s something off—a hesitation, a shift in his tone as your breath stutters audibly. “Are you… okay?”

No. You’re not okay. You’re overwhelmed, wrecked by pleasure more intense than anything you’ve ever known, losing your virginity to a twisted version of the man you love. Hot tears of shame spill down your cheeks as a sob tears from your throat.

“...Y/N?” Mark’s voice sounds distant now. You can barely hear him over the rush of blood in your ears, over the slick sound of skin meeting skin, over the obscene, broken whimpers falling from your lips.

“Mmmh, fuck,” you gasp as the pressure builds unbearably inside you. “Fuck—Mark—”

“That’s it, baby,” not-your-Mark whispers in your ear, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “You wanna come, don’t you? Wanna scream my name?”

The dam breaks. “Yes! Fuck, yes, yes!” Your voice shatters with each punishing thrust. Dignity forgotten, you arch desperately against him, meeting every movement as you beg mindlessly. “Mark—I can’t—oh god, please, please...!”

The line goes silent for an agonizing moment, the static crackle carrying more weight than words ever could. You squeeze your eyes shut, shame and guilt and disgust warring with the pleasure coiling tight in your belly—but it’s too late now. Far too late.

“Y/N...?” his voice comes through the receiver—your Mark’s voice—strangled and low, thick with realization.

Your stomach drops. He knows. Oh god, he knows. He fucking knows.

Not-your-Mark lets out a pleased hum against your neck, his fingers lazily plucking the phone from your trembling hand while his hips snap forward, forcing a needy moan from your lips. The wet sound of skin on skin is unmistakable. There’s no way your Mark could mistake what’s happening.

Not-your-Mark’s eyes glint with something wicked as he presses the phone to his ear, smirking.

“Too late, dickhead,” he says, just as breathless as you, his voice dripping with smug victory as he punctuates each word with another brutal thrust. “He’s already mine.”

Mark’s furious roar bursts through the speaker. “You—!” you close your eyes, mortified, tears falling down your cheeks because this is the moment Mark realizes you’re a horrible friend. “I’LL FUCKING KILL YO—”

But the sound is cut off with a sickening crunch as not-your-Mark’s fingers tighten, phone shattering, fragments falling like dust.

“Oops,” he pouts mockingly, tilting his head with feigned innocence before his expression darkens. His hand snakes around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but firm enough to claim. “Now where were we, sweetheart?”

When he slams back into you, you arch off the bed with a broken scream, your legs spreading wider of their own volition. He chuckles darkly, hands sliding under your thighs to fold you nearly in half, opening you up so completely that each thrust punches the air from your lungs.

“Fuck,” he growls, pace turning erratic as his control fractures. “Look at you—taking me so perfect. Tell me. Tell me how much you love this. How much you love taking my cock.”

“I love it,” you gasp without thought, your mind obliterated by pleasure. “Fuck—I love it. I love you.”

A deep, guttural moan tears from his throat, his grip on you tightening as he nods frantically. “Yeah? Love me? Fuck— I love you too, baby. I love you so fucking much.”

And you know he’s not your Mark. You know your real Mark is probably flying at full speed right now, minutes, or even seconds from bursting through your window. But Christ—hearing those words, in Mark’s voice, from his lips, with his face twisted in raw, desperate worship—it makes you dizzy. It makes you happy.

“I love you,” you say again, fingers twisting into his dark hair, dragging him down until your panting mouths brush. “I love you. Always have—fuck—since—since before you even got your powers, Mark!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes! Ah—fuck, yes!” The words dissolve into moans as you kiss the corner of his mouth, your lips sliding messily against his. “When you were such--a nerd! Loved you since we were kids. Love you now. I always will—”

He groans, swallowing your words with a feverish kiss, his hands squeezing your cheeks until your mouth falls open, surrendering completely. Tongues tangle, breath mingles, and he moans right into you—

“I love—” he pants, his movements growing erratic. “I love you, Y/N. Fuck—Gonna take you home with me. Gonna keep you forever. Steal you from that idiot...make him see what he threw away—”

Then—suddenly—his hand wraps around your cock.

It’s been untouched this entire time, leaking wildly against your stomach, and the moment his fingers curl around it, a sharp, broken whimper escapes you. Your hips jerk helplessly, legs trembling as pleasure rips through you.

“Fuuuuck,” you sob, shuddering against him. “Don’t stop—don’t stop. I’m gonna—”

“I got you, baby,” he growls, stroking you faster, fucking into you harder. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good. Gonna take you away. Gonna own you!”

And God help you—his words don’t sound like threats when you’re drowning in white-hot ecstasy. In this moment, you’d let him drag you through dimensions, would beg him to claim you completely—because he wants you. He loves you. He craves you in a way you’ve always ached to be craved. And right now—you’d let him take you. You’d let him do whatever the fuck he wanted.

“Ah—ah, Mark—” Your body locks up, stomach tightening, hole clenching around him as the pressure on your cock becomes unbearable. “I’m gonna—fuck—I’m gonna come—”

“Yeah, baby, let it out,” he growls against your lips, his hand working your cock in perfect sync with his punishing thrusts. “Come for me. Now.”

You shatter with a strangled scream, body jerking violently as you spill across your stomach in thick, hot stripes. Your vision whites out, every muscle locking and spasming as pleasure tears through.

Mark groans like a man possessed, his thrusts faltering as your hole flutters and clenches around him. “Fuck—fuck—” He slams into you one final time, burying himself deep, and then he’s coming too, hot and thick, filling you to the brim. His grip tightens as he grinds himself deeper, prolonging every last spurt, wringing every aftershock from you until you’re trembling and spent beneath him.

You can’t move. Can’t speak. All you can do is lie there, trembling, as he keeps pumping into you, dragging out your orgasm until you’re sobbing from oversensitivity. His hips grind against yours, forcing every last drop into you like he’s determined to make sure you remember this.

When he finally pulls out, you whimper at the loss, your body limp and wrecked. Sweat and come cling to your skin, your chest heaving as aftershocks wrack through you. Every inch of you is marked—bruises blooming where his fingers, his teeth, his lips claimed you.

You barely register the mattress dipping as he lays beside you, his arms wrapping around your exhausted frame. A soft, lingering kiss presses to your forehead, his voice a soothing murmur against your damp skin.

“Shh, shh, Y/N,” his fingers trace lazy circles against your back. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of everything.”

Even in your dazed, post-orgasmic haze, you understand what “everything” means.

It means your Mark—your universe’s Mark—is on his way. It means a fight is inevitable. It means blood, destruction, the clash of two forces that look the same but could never be. And when that moment comes, you’ll have to face him—face the shame that will devour you whole.

Because how dare you?

How dare you moan his name for someone else? Whisper desperate I love yous to the wrong version of him? Come undone beneath a man who wears his face but isn’t him?

And after you told him it was fine—that you were fine—staying just friends. After you swallowed every aching, desperate feeling just to keep him close. But in the end, you gave in. You let temptation pull you under. You let yourself have him—or the closest thing to him. And now, there’s no taking it back.

You know you’re wrong.

You know time is running out.

And you know that when he says he’ll take care of everything, this Mark intends to kill your Mark—just as your Mark wants to kill him.

But your body betrays you—mind foggy, muscles lax with satisfaction, the afterglow pulling you under. As consciousness fades, this not-quite-Mark draws you closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. His breathing steadies, his solid frame surrounding you in deceptive safety.

(And vaguely, you think about your Mark. About how he’s been pulling away from you, slowly but surely. How, ever since you confessed your feelings and ruined everything, he hasn’t looked at you the same.

“I promise I’ll tell you,” he’d say, a week ago, his eyes avoiding yours in a way that pains you. “I promise I’ll tell you the truth. All of it. And—”

Then he’d looked up, and something in his gaze pinned you there—fervent, almost feverish.

“I’ll—” he’d stop himself, cheeks coloring faintly, and yet he wouldn’t relent his steady gaze. ”I’ll tell you the reason I’ve been acting like such an asshole to you. And I hope...you can forgive me after.”

“Why not now?” you’d ask, puzzled, fingers curling into your palms. ”Why not when I’m asking you, Mark? Right here, and right now.”

He’d flinch, his eyes closing for a fleeting second before opening them again. ”Just—gimme one more week,” he’d rasped. “One more week and—I promise I’ll tell you everything. I’ll—confess everything.”

And as he’d turn around, his broad back to you as he’d take off—not before glancing at you with troubled eyes, an intensity in his eyes you can’t quite place—you’d only guess he’s gonna say he hates you. That he’s gonna say, now once and for all, he can no longer be your friend.

And how you should’ve kept your heart locked tight, your love buried deep, just so you could keep him close. How you should’ve never, ever opened your big mouth and let your feelings spill out.

But you did, and now nothing’s the same.)

“I’ll take care of it,” Mark murmurs again as you drift away, his voice a dark promise. “Never gonna lose you again. Never.”

The last thing you register before sleep claims you is the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek.

And in the final flicker of consciousness, a single thought drifts through your mind— You wished Mark had told you the reason.

Now, he never might.

[laumier]

LOOSE 𓂃 𓈒 ࣪ LHS.

resumé. heeseung getting you to let loose, making you let him take care of you.

! [slight dacryphilia, reader is ovulating, pet names, maybe a creampie idk :p, fingering, not proofread]

lala’s note. this is a thought that i have daily.. also ser’s idea. but i can’t write so this lowkey sucked butt.

the apartment was filled with silence. well, not completely. the sound of the tv in the living room played as you stood in the kitchen, cutting up ingredients for dinner.

there was tension in the atmosphere. one that even heeseung could feel, but he wasn’t sure of what it was. you’d been avoiding him since you both woke up.

you were out of bed before him, which was quite unlike you. even if you were awake before him, you always remained in bed, waiting to wake him up with kisses.

you wouldn’t even let him touch you. or come near you—you put a distance between the both of you and he couldn’t take it.

he knew he didn’t do anything wrong, so what was the problem?

“baby?” he called from behind you, making you jump slightly.

you hummed in response, continuing to cut up vegetable and throw them into a bowl.

he pushed himself off of the kitchen walk, walking toward you.

“what’re you up to?” he asked, his hands coming to rest on your sides, the warmth of them on your exposed skin making you shiver.

“dinner,” you replied flatly, trying to inch away from him. “making dinner.”

his grip on you tightened, pressing his fingers into your sides as he leaned down towards your neck. you could feel his lips hovering over your skin as you attempted to lean away from his touch.

“babe—“

“heeseung, i can’t do this right now.” you let out a shaky breath, continuing to move around the kitchen with him attached to you.

“ ‘heeseung’ ?” he repeated, his brows furrowing. “what happened to ‘baby’ ?”

you didn’t respond, still shifting away from him every time his hands inched higher.

“what’s going on with you?” his hands tightened as he spun you around to face him, making you drop the utensil you were using.

you avoided his gaze, “hee, i need to finish—“

“i feel like i can’t even talk to you without you avoiding me. did i do something wrong?” he said, hand smoothing over your hair gently.

you didn’t say anything, your eyes still everywhere but his face.

“hey,” he gripped your face, squeezing gently. now you had no choice but to make contact, shivering once you met his gaze.

you could’ve melted right there. his big brown eyes staring right into yours, expression soft with concern.

“you wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked again, his face inching closer to yours. you bit your lip hesitantly, suddenly leaning into him now.

“every time you touch me, i just—“ you whispered, your breath hitching.

“when i touch you?” he repeated, confused. but he soon realized what you meant, his hand tightening on your side.

you blinked up at him like a lost puppy, eyes now watery, shimmering in the dim light like you had no other thoughts behind them.

“oh, honey,” he said softly, his lips hovering over yours. your tummy fluttered as he got closer to you, the need to feel him against you growing stronger.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

your lips parted to respond, but you couldn’t. your head was too empty at this point.

he pressed his lips against yours, his other hand still gripping your face, pulling you closer to him.

“you don’t have to say anything. just let me take care of you.”

══════════════════

as you settled into the sheets beneath you, you could feel heeseung’s lips everywhere as he slid himself between your thighs.

he nipped at your neck lightly, pulling a whine from your lips.

his hand came to rest at waistband of your sweats, tugging at them gently. you shifted, trying to squirm out of them, making him chuckle.

he pulled them down just enough to reveal the plush of your thighs, seeing the wet patch that clung to the center of you.

heeseung ran his fingers over it slightly, making you tremble.

“fuck,” he groaned, pressing his finger against you.

you whimpered quietly, hand coming down to meet his, trying to tug your panties down.

“patience, baby.”

you whined again, annoyed this time. but he didn’t say anything, knowing that you were just worked up.

his fingers finally hooked around your panties, tugging them all the way off along with your sweatpants.

the cool air hit your center, your legs closing around his hips before he spread them again.

his fingers met your heat again, gliding them through the wetness that clung to you.

“hee, please—“ you whispered, gripping his forearm tightly. “just wanna feel you inside..”

his fingers pressed deeper, almost against your hole but not quite pushing them in yet. “i know, but i don’t wanna hurt you, princess.”

his voice was soft and gentle, a stark contrast to what he was doing to you right now.

he toyed with you for a bit, his fingers continuing to glide through your arousal before pushing them in.

a strangled moan left you as your head fell against the pillows below you. the pace of his fingers was agonizing, stretching you slowly.

“faster,” you breathed heavily. “please.”

“i really don’t wanna hurt you, babe.” he replied, eyes still filled with the same concern from earlier.

you spread your legs, trying to feel more of the ridges in his fingers glide against your walls. you moaned once he pushed them all the way, before pulling them out, his digits soaked and glistening.

they pushed back in with a squelch, your thighs trembling with each movement.

“so wet for me, princess. just for me.” he kissed your cheek, curling his fingers in all the right places.

your whines became more desperate as your stomach started to tighten, some of that arousal skipping past heeseung’s fingers and onto the sheets below you.

“please, hee, i’m gonna—“ you gasped softly, your eyes fluttering shut as your orgasm hit you sooner than you thought. but he didn’t stop.

his fingers kept working inside you, still going at the same pace before he pulled them out, spreading your release over your swollen lips.

he stayed there for a moment, fingers still running over you before you made a noise out of impatience.

“alright, alright, i hear you.” he chuckled moving away from you to peel his shirt off. before he could even get to them, your hands were on the waistband of his pants, pushing them down.

“such a needy girl,” he hissed, letting you pull them down his thighs, along with his underwear. his length hit his stomach softly, the base of it already hard and twitching.

you bit your lip in anticipation, looking up at him through your lashes, eyes still sparkling.

“fuck, don’t look at me like that—“ he groaned, leaning in once more, his lips finding yours. you slipped your tongue into his mouth as he hovered over you again, length brushing against your thigh.

you reached down to grip him, feeling the thickness of him as your hands moved to stroke him.

he hissed, moving his hips in sync with your hand.

“hee.. just put it in, please..” you murmured against his lips. he gave you a nod, hands meeting yours as he gripped himself, positioning between your legs.

he pushed the tip through your folds, groaning as he watched the slick gather onto it.

you continued to hold onto him, helping him push into your hole, fitting himself inside with one thrust.

you both moaned at the fullness, his cock already twitching inside of you.

your hips moved against his, silently telling him to move.

he pulled back, before burying himself to the hilt, his hips flush against yours. he kept doing so until he gained enough stamina to pound up into you.

“oh, f-fuck, hee—“ you let out a drawn out moan as his hips smacked harshly against yours, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the room.

he grunted against your neck, pressing a small kiss there. “this what you been wanting all day? for me to settle the ache between those legs?”

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t—just a small nod as you cried out for him.

heeseung leaned back slightly, his hand gripping your shirt to pull you towards him, meeting his thrusts.

“just like that, angel,” he hissed, his eyes focused on where you were connected, your slick covering his length every time he slid out of you.

“look at the way you’re taking me.. so good.”

your eyes closed as you felt tears well up into them, your back arching from the sensation below you. though it was overwhelming, you couldn’t help but open yourself up to him, thighs trembling.

his eyes scanned your body, then landing on your face as he saw you sniffling, tears falling down your cheeks.

he groaned again, his hips stuttering.

“feels so good, hee. ‘s so big,” you sobbed, more tears pouring as his thumb came to swipe them away.

“yeah?” he cooed. “it’s so big but you take it so well, princess.”

his hips only sped up, angling them to hit a deeper part inside you, your back arching once more.

more of your arousal continued to spill past where heeseung was buried inside of you, making everything so much easier for him.

he shifted you legs up higher on his waist, trying to get as deep as possible. he placed his hand against your stomach, feeling where he was hitting the most.

you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut again.

“feel me in there, baby?”

you nodded, more whimpers and whines spilling from your lips as you felt that knot low in your tummy again.

“babe, i can’t.. i’m gonna—“ your breathing became uneven as he pressed down on your abdomen, hips continuing their brutal pace.

“you can,” he whispered against your lips. “make a mess for me.”

the bed creaked quietly under you as he continued to rock his hips into yours, making you coat his cock once you came.

you cursed silently as he fucked you through it, the slight overstimulation making your eyes well up again.

“d..don’t stop,” you gasped, locking your legs around his waist before he spilled into your with a groan, his hips still moving.

both of your releases now mixed together, white coating him as he moved faster.

heeseung moaned, “you feel like heaven, baby, fuck.”

you hummed in response, squeezing around him just to feel his hips stutter again before they stopped completely.

he breathed heavily against your neck, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath. his skin was flushed, glistening with sweat.

you hissed, feeling the stickiness between you as you tried to close your legs around his waist.

he chuckled, before slipping out of you, rolling to the side.

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in to his chest as he kissed your head.

“promise me you’ll say something next time?” he mumbled into your hair.

you nodded, humming in content as you snuggled into him.

“don’t get too comfortable,” he said, softly. “gotta run you a hot bath before bed.”

[shawtuzi]

i’m currently reading the reverb series by the amazing, talented, incredible @chrollohearttags and now i can’t stop thinking about musician!eren *cries*

cw include: no plot whatsoever literally just nasty sex, reader is kinda obsessed w him, drug usage (weed), riding, reader has megan knees, pussydrunk eren, unprotected sex (wrap it up yall), multiple orgasms, eren lowkey falls in love w reader shes that good man idk

the sound of skin slapping and your whiny moans could throughout eren’s tour bus—not even the rap music playing in the background from the stereo could tune you two out unfortunately.

“f-fuck m’nutting againnn!” you squealed out, your hand slapping against the blacked out window. eren took an extra long hit of the blunt perched between his fingers, his brows scrunching in pure bliss. his free hand was gripping onto the fat of your ass, whatever strength he had was being used to help move you up and down.

he couldn’t help but moan when you smushed your lips against his, inhaling the bitter smoke from his blunt. “your dick is even better than i imagined w-when i—hah! touched myself,” your words were slurred as you spoke, a tiny giggle following. all eren could do was nod and bite his lip. my mans was lost in the sauce, pussydrunk as fuck!

you drained his balls three times; once from head and the other two from riding him like a fucking madwoman. you didn’t even give him a break to catch his breath either, no no you were determined to leave this man a drooling mess! that way he’ll be more likely to give you call whenever he’s in your city again hehe

“you’re fuckin’ crazy,” his voice was low when he spoke, boarder line growling out the words. his head pathetically fell backwards with a lil thud, this gave you the perfect opportunity to start kissing and sucking at his neck. normally he’d tell you to back the hell up and not leave any evidence, but hey, with pussy that good you could do whatever you wanted with him.

you warm, gummy walls hugged his dick so nicely he was actually about to start tweaking out. “w-why *huff* why’re you fuckin’ me like that, goddamn girl,” eren grunted, swatting your ass three times. you slowed down your pace until you stopped completely, his balls now sitting snugly against your ass.

you cocked your head at him, a dopey smile making its way onto your lips. “well ain’t it obvious ren? i’m your biggest fan,” you pointed to your left breast where eren had signed his name in sharpie, it was a tad streaky now due to your current activities but it still looked hot as fuck. “and as your biggest fan i wanna see you every time you touch down in my city ‘kay?” you began to circle your hips and that had eren’s lashes fluttering.

eren damn near dropped the blunt when you reached behind you to squeeze at his swollen balls, which were already more than ready to fill you up with his cum again. oh yeah! did i mention he’s hitting it rawww? yeah you’re that good.

“yeah, yeah i’ll hit you up. on my life i will,” his sentence trailed off as you pushed your chest into his face, suffocating him in literally the best way possible. you plucked the blunt from his fingers and took a couple hits before setting it aside—you’d be damned if he forgot how to work his limbs and burn you!

“i really mean it when i say m’your biggest fan—mmph! i-i jus’ happen to fuck good too,” you adjusted your position before bouncing on his dick once more. you left out the part where you quite literally practiced this exact encounter on your favorite dildo.

eren’s nostrils flared as he looked at the mess between your bodies, it was beautiful. he never knew someone could make such a mess out of him yet here he was, drool nearly slipping past his kiss bitten lips as you brought him closer and closer to his fourth orgasm of the night.

“i just wanted to take care of you after your show, you work so hard renny ‪‪❤︎‬.” renny? you had nicknames for him already? fuck, he was so close to cumming what was even happening anymore?

eren felt like the air got punched out of his chest when you halted your movements, you looked at him with what he could’ve swore were hearts in your eyes. “did you hear me renny?”

eren’s adams apple bobbed when he swallowed, he licked his lips and nodded. “yeah i heard you, baby. so sweet for taking care of renny like that,” he couldn’t even believe what he was saying right now—this had to be his dick talking for him.

his head tilted back when you starting moving again, this time you had a little swivel in your hips that had his abs clenching. “god i’m finna—” eren bucked his hips up desperately to reach his high, it was just in his grasp. when he came it was earth shattering to say the least, and you just kept on going, milking him for everything he was worth.

thick, opaque globs of his cum dripped from your pussy and onto his thighs, creating an even bigger mess. “so good ren,” you muttered, licking up his neck until you reached his lips. “sure fuckin’ is,” eren hummed into the kiss, his tatted hand coming up to wrap around your throat.

sometime later . . . .

“what the actual fuck is taking him so long in there? he never takes this long with the other ‘fans’,” jean sighed, beyond irritated as him and the rest of eren’s security waited outside of the rocking tour bus. loud moans could be heard from inside, along with the occasional slap.

“fuck it i’m calling him,” jean growled, whipping out his phone to chew eren thee fuck out. surprisingly the call went through, unfortunately for jean eren wasn’t about to stop what he was doing in that moment to give him his full attention, hence why skin slapping could be heard on the line. “what do you want,” eren’s words were slurred as he spoke, almost as if he was actually fucking drunk!

he currently had you in backshots, both of your hands being held back by his larger one. his emerald eyes zoomed in on the way your pussy pulled him back each time he pulled out, what a pretty little sight.

“you need to hurry it the fuck up, we have a flight to catch in an hour! wrap it up er—”

“i don’t wanna hear none of that,” was all eren said before hanging up and tossing his phone to the side. no fucking way was eren about to stop now, not when his new, pretty lil fan girl was so close to cumming!

[st7rnioioss]

omgggg can you please do bestfriend chris guiding inexperienced reader on how to ride for the first time

BSF!CHRIS GUIDING INEXPERIENCED!READER HOW TO RIDE

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, p in v, unprotected sex (nuh uh!!), kissing, mentions of hickeys, lowkey hate this💔

“shh- hey. it’s okay, you’re doing so, so good..” chris mumbled, his hands stuck on your hips while his thumbs traced mindless circles over your soft skin, admiring your pretty form on top of him.

your face was contorted with pleasure, eyebrows knit together and eyes pinched shut while trying to adjust to his size. you were sucking him in, his tip already kissing your cervix as you sat on top of him, your walls fluttering around his thick stretch.

“mhh- chris.. i- i can’t-“ your voice cut through the constant praise and sweet murmurs from chris, your nails digging crescent-shaped moons into his shoulders.

he let a soft groan fall from his lips, running one of his hands up your back in a comforting manner, attempting to soothe your nerves and pain just a little. your pussy was already drooling around him, and all it took was a couple right words and a pair of fingers.

“yes you can, sweetheart.. fuck, such a pretty sight. can you believe i haven’t made you do this earlier, huh?” his question was mostly rhetorically asked, not really expecting an answer from you because of the already fucked out expression plastered on your face. gosh, you haven’t even started yet.

“um.. n-no..?” you shook your head weakly, your eyes batting back open to look down at him, his head thrown back against the headboard of his bed, your response earning a chuckle from him.

“i- i think i’m ready..” your words were mumbled, but chris nodded, clearing his throat as he tightened his grip on your hips.

“i’ll help you, okay? then you’ll try.” you nodded in response, his hands slowly guiding your body to move in a back and forth motion, his eyes flickering to your face to see your reaction, if it made you feel good.

still clawing at his shoulders, your jaw fell slack, letting strings of moans fall from your parted lips. chris was nearly about to cum from just the sight, almost not believing a second of what he was seeing—his best friend since forever, riding him like that.. well, grinding.

“yeah? y’like that?” he chuckled dryly, looking up at you through his lashes from his halfway-shut eyes, nearly leaving marks from his tight grip.

whines fell from your lips as you ground on him, your clit brushing perfectly over his pelvis. chris’s grip on your hips became tighter, gently attempting to lift you, helping you ride him properly this time.

“o-oh.. oh my god-“ you moan, pinching your eyes shut at his tip kissed at your cervix over and over again. “f-feels good..”

chris could tell you were close already from how you basically squeezed around him, your cheeks flushed and lips parted into a perfect o-shape.

“so beautiful.. can’t believe i’m the only one who gets to see you like this,” he smirked up at you, deciding to loosen his grip on you, causing your movements to still. your eyes flutter back open in confusion, his fingers making their way to your waist instead.

“w-what are you doing?” you whined, your hands running down across his chest, eyes glued to his.

“come on. keep going baby, you can do it,” he lightly ran a thumb over your bottom lip that was stuck in a pout, dragging it down just enough to part your lips.

but you couldn’t. at least that’s what you had convinced yourself. “chris.. i can’t, please! it hurts..” you whined and pleaded, but chris just shook his head in return.

“oh, poor thing.. don’t be whiny, just do what i did, yeah? i promise it’ll feel better in a second,” he cooed, his hand cupping your face to lean in, pressing a kiss to your lips while his hand snaked to the back of your head, keeping the kiss simple but firm.

pulling away with a faint smile, you nodded. with your hands still on his chest, you tried moving your hips until you found a somewhat nice pace and motion. pretty moans slipped from your lips that echoed with the lewd squelches from your leaky cunt, eliciting a groan from chris.

“juuust like that.. that’s good-“ he murmured with a strain to his voice, his fingers gripping your waist almost leaving red marks, complimenting the ones he left earlier down your neck and collarbone.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head before batting them shut, eyebrows knitted up in pleasure as you desperately tried your best to keep going, to keep up your face.

but it was getting hard, your thighs aching from the unfamiliar stretch, from both the uncomfortable position and how snug chris was stuffed inside of you.

“chris! g’nna… c-cum..” you babbled between whimpers, letting go of his chest to hold onto his shoulders again, your movements turning sloppy and haphazard.

“g-go ahead.. y’look so adorable, doing just what i’m telling you to,” a choked moan fell from his lips, before taking the plush and swollen lip between his teeth.

when the waves crashed over you, letting loud and careless noises slip from between your lips, he helped you ride out your high, before you both stilled your movements. chris wrapped his arms around you, letting you collapse onto his chest.

“so pretty.. y’think you can keep going for me, angel?” he whispered while playing with strands of your hair, his lips grazing your ear before his hands sneaked back down to your hips.

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: that fucking cheetah print jacket you fucking hottie!!! anyway- not over the fact my fic was in an edit.. im literally sobbinggg its so funny to me. love you freaks!:33

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @unknvhx @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668 @starkeysturniolo @miolos @user1smvtysturniolo @lizzyzzn @sturnslutz @decimatedxdreams @chrissturnioloswife88 @sturn777 @sturniolonationsblog @frankoceanfanpage @priscillaog

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[dollyhao]

sevika lowkey wants to wife you up (nsfw, strap (r! receiving), biting, also really sweet, mama being mama 🤷🏾‍♀️)

sevika’s been coming to the brothel just to see you for the last six months, coming to see you like every 3 days and you two spend an amazing time together. it’s not always sex either; it started off that way but you guys really connected.

sevika’s been wanting to ask you to quit your job and let her take care of you but she hasn’t asked yet. you’ve been talking about quitting your job because your hearts just not in it anymore and its effecting your mood.

when sevika finally comes visit you after almost a whole week of not seeing you, she’s ready to finally ask you.

she waits patiently for you to come into the room that you two frequent the most, she watches as you face lights up at seeing her she stands as you approach her with a grin and your arms open, “sev!” you jump into her arms and she holds you tight. “hey princess,” she places you down on the bed, kneeling inbetween your legs as you look down at her with a softer smile.

“why haven’t you come see me?” you ask quietly, running your fingers through her hair. “i was busy,” she says plucking your shoes off your feet. “ya missed me?” she smirks up at you leaning closer to your face.

“i thought you weren’t coming back…” you gaze into her eyes then at her lips. sevika doesn’t respond right away, she sees how much you believed that and she just can’t have that. she leans in to kiss you, pushing you to lay down. she straddles your waist pulling her cape off while your hands cup her face. you moan feeling the weight of her on you, she pulls away from you. “let’s take this off baby,” she pulls at your flimsy dress and you sit up so she can pull it over your head.

still straddling your now naked body, she kisses down your neck biting at your collarbone. you suck in a breath at the pain. she continues kissing and biting you up, leaving marks while she situates herself between your legs. clients aren’t allowed to mark up the girls but sevika has no intention of letting you stay here after tonight.

she kisses your lips again biting your lip as she grinds into you. you let out a sigh at the strap in her pants that’s rubbing against you. “sev, don’t tease, take it out,” your hand trails inbetween your bodies trying to reach into her pants. sevika kneels over you, “so impatient,” she responds pulling her top and sticky pants off. you bite your lip, gazing up at her large, naked form. you sit up to press fevered kisses inbetween her breast.

she grabs your chin pulling you away from her hot skin, “on your knees.” you giggle, immediately turning on your knees and arching your ass in the air. sevika’s hands are placed on your ass but you shudder at the cold metal that shes been avoiding touching you with. she parts your lower lips smirking at the sticky mess that’s dripping down your thighs. she presses the tip to your entrance running it up and down your slit, making you push your hips back with a whimper before finally pushing into you.

your mouth falls open she starts a slow but deep pace. you let out gasps and moans as you feel sevika going deeper with every thrust and it only intensifies when she speeds up, “oh-ohmygosh sevvy,” you can’t handle all the wet sounds of your cunt swallowing up her strap, you reach your hand around to grab on to the hand that’s holding your waist and her cold one trails down your back, making you arch more before she grabs your hair pulling it as her hips snap against yours.

“how does it feel?” she bends to whisper in your ear. your brain is mush as moan out with drool dripping down your chin, you try to nod your head but sevika’s holding your head still with her grip. she’s stopped moving her hips with the strap sitting snug in your pulsing cunt. “words, baby.”

“yes yess, i-i love it mama,” you let out before sevika presses a kiss to your temple. “ya wanna quit ya job baby?” you turn ya head to look at her now that she’s back to kneeling, you nod your head with tears of pleasure forming in your eyes. “ya want mama to take care of you?” she pouts at you as she pushes you on to your side, she puts your leg over her shoulder holding herself up over your face.

“hm? want me to get you out of here?” “please,” you kiss her lips again as she opens her mouth, sticking her tongue in your mouth letting you run yours over hers. your body starts to tremble and you throw your head back whimpering out sevika’s name. sekiva bites you chin and kisses down you neck as she trails her hand between your bodies and rubbing circles against your clit. “such a good girl, imma take the best care of you baby. i promise.” she pants out as your hands grip on to her biceps. you cum and let out obscene moans that only sevika could ever make you make.

[d3stinyist1red]

Yandere town?? Live convenience store cashier or mall owner or police officer and paramedics or anything both platonic and romantic like the elders try to get reader married to their children etc

YASSS QUEEN 😛😛😛

Yan town who literally is obsessed with everything you do, like u could be drinking water and they'll praise you for drinking it

Yan town who literally has the biggest fanclub of you, they exchange pictures, and items that used to belong to you

Yan convenience store cashier who literally has the sluttiest clothes in his bag just in case you come in

Yan police officer that gets called everytime you try burning the town down, biting his lip while saying "N/n, your being a very naughty girl!~" He playfully slaps,and runs his fingers up and down on your arm.

Yan medic who is lowkey a baddie, litteraly whenever he hears that you have a cut, he puts on the most lil skirt possible, and literally brings out things that nurses would only use if your on fucking life support, acting as if your gonna die just because of a tiny ass cut

yan platonic elderly woman who begs you to marry her son. Her son was very attractive and rich, waving at you shyly as he thinks about the ways you could stroke and suck him off

Yan business man who tries to get you to be his secretary, begging you on his knees and shit. He literally kisses your feet anytime he is in a 5 mile radius of u

Yan farmer who literally is pushing 20 and acting like a middle school boy who barely hit puberty, humping at your shoe and everything. He gives you free fruits tho! Though, he does try to trade with you. Your panties for the fruits of course!

Yan cowboy who let you ride him and save his horse. He literally tells you to get on his horse with him, your in front of him as he guides the horse, his front leaning against your back. He tries to hide his huge boner, and how he's slowly thrusting it against you.

Yan loser who no one likes💀 if ur the angel of the town, he's the devil. He's a total weirdo, whenever he sees you, his hands immediately go for his pants, trying to patt his dick down. "H-hey, do you wa-wanna help me wit-with mini me?"

Yan platonic unc who tries to get you to go on a blind date with his niece. You finally went, and his niece was down bad for u. His niece wouldn't even eat his food, staring at you the whole time with heart eyes, and giggling at you

Yan old man who lets you be his sugar baby. You don't even do anything, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty, and he will give you the money. Very cutesy very demure

[fireflyinks]

hi girlyyy I love ur hamzah fics sm u write him so good it’s crazy! I was thinking abt their new vid with the heartbeat thing and I was wondering if u could make a fic about that!!

keep up the workkk💗💗💗💗💗

heartbeat

hamzah x reader smut

18+ MINORS DNI

a/n : YOUR GIRL IS BACKKKKKKKK!!!!!! sorry this video isn't really new anymore but I'VE BEEN SO BUSY. i hope your all like this, it's not great but hey, at least I posted!!!

contains : smut obvi, riding, lowkey getting caught (EMBARRASING!!!), no y/n, kinda dom reader!!! (everyone say "THANK YOU VI", established relationship, heartbeat kink (idk if that's a thing lmao) and probably more idk it's smut read at your own risk

--

I sat in bed, contemplating interrupting Hamzah and Martin while filming. They’d been going for hours, and I had grown tired of hearing the two scream on the other side of the thin white walls. I knew Hamzah wouldn’t care if I interrupted, the slushies loved when I made appearances in videos, but part of me knew that my intentions weren’t purely innocent. 

I stood up, walking out of Hamzah and I’s shared bedroom. Just as I walked through the door, I watched as Martin walked out. 

“Bathroom” was all he said. I nodded shortly gliding into their filming room. 

“Hey baby,” I spoke softly. Hamzah looked up from his phone, smiling at the sight of me.

“Hi sweetheart.” 

Walking over to where Hamzah sat, I wrapped my arms around him as I looked at the paused game screen. I looked at the numbers on either side of the screen, remembering that they were doing a heartbeat monitor video. 

As I pressed a kiss on the side of Hamzah’s neck, I watched as the numbers on his side of the screen went up after a few seconds. He blushed a bit, interlocking his fingers with mine. His heartbeat traveled from 73 to 96 quickly. 

“Are you nervous or something?” I teased, watching the monitor. 

Hamzah pressed his lips onto mine, his hands finding their way to my hips as he pulled me onto his lap. As our mouths moved against each other, I glanced at the screen again. 116. 

I began grinding my hips down onto him, feeling as a ten began to grow in his gym shorts. He guided my hips with his hands, a firm grip on either side. Hamzah groaned lowly at the sensation. 

“Guys, can you at least wait until we’re done filming?” Martin spoke, unimpressed. I smiled against Hamzah’s lips, pulling away and glancing at the screen once again. 125. 

“Sorry Martin…” I giggled, walking out of the room briskly. I could feel Hamzah’s eyes still on me as I left. 

After about 30 minutes, I could hear Martin finally leave. I got out of bed, quickly making my way to the filming room. Hamzah smiled as he saw me walk in. 

“Sorry, Martin is the biggest cock blocker of all time.” 

I straddled his lap in the chair, “It’s okay,” I pressed our lips together, letting his tongue explore my mouth. I grinded my hips down on his again, feeling myself get more and more soaked. He was still as hard as he was before, and what were once groans were now whimpers from the neglectance he was experiencing. 

“Fuck, that feels so good…” He praised against my lips.

After a few moments, I looked back at the screen. 120. I wasted no time taking off my shirt and letting Hamzah unclasp my bra in one quick motion. I rubbed my thighs together, he was far too good at that. 

He slipped his gym shorts and boxers off as I stood up and slid my lacy panties off as quickly as I could manage. I held his member up as I sunk myself down onto it. Hamzah all but whimpered as he bottomed me out. 

“Oh my- fucking hell. You suck me in so good, baby.” 

I started moving, bouncing up and down at a rate that shouldn’t be possible. Words try to escape my mouth, but I can’t seem to get anything coherent out. He was big, bigger than anyone I’d ever had before. Though this wasn’t even close to being our first time, his size still surprised me. 

Continuing to move up and down, my legs begin to shake with pleasure. I rest my knees on either side of his thighs, and I feel as Hamzah’s large hands grab onto the back of my legs. 

“It’s okay, you got it. Keep going baby, keep making me feel good with that pretty pussy.” 

His words are enough to push me over the edge, and I can tell he’s close too by the way his eyelids look heavier than usual and his mouth is formed into a “o” shape. 

“I- I’m gonna-” 

Hamzah nods rapidly, “Me too. Come baby, come with me.”

And I do, my fluids soaking his member as he fills me up perfectly. Once we’ve rode out our climax, I sink back down and sit there for a moment. 

I can’t help but look back at the screen, 81. 

[prkhaven]

FORBIDDEN EYES -s.jy-

Dragged out to a party, you wanted nothing more than to leave, playing seven minutes in heaven leads you being crammed in a closet with the very Jake Sim.

pairing— popular!jake x quiet fem!reader

genre: smut minors do not interact, seven minutes in heaven au, p without plot

wc: 3k

warnings: party setting, alcohol consumption, profanity, reader’s friend sucks, kissing, lowkey down bad jake

smut warnings: unprotect sex (uh oh), p in v, quickie, slight dirty talk, creampie, hand over mouth, usage of nickname (hun)

You stood off to the side, away from the sea of sweaty people grinding their bodies together as music filled the stuffy house leaving no room for your own thoughts.

Through the crowds of people, you tried to look for any of your friends who brought you out here in the first place only you leave you behind in a flash.

You grumbled not believing you allowed yourself to be dragged out this when you told them numerous times you didn’t want to come.

“Looking for someone?” You turned to the accented voice and that’s when you saw Jake, displaying his infamous sweet smile

Out of 10 randomly chosen people, those 10 people will know exactly who Jake is. Captain of the soccer team, surprisingly very intelligent despite his carefree attitude, and most of his small friend group that made a name for themselves.

You knew who Jake simply was and it was the exact opposite of you. You didn’t respond to his question as you continued to look for your friends.

The questioning gaze he shot you cut through you like a knife but you didn’t dare face him, unaware of just how strong his undeniable power could be over you if you looked at him.

“I can help you find whoever you’re looking for” He tried to insinuate the conversation again but you only shook your head walked off, not wanting to stay any longer

Jake rapidly blink at the now empty space in front of him before letting out a scoff as his eyes trailed over you with a slight smirk before going after you. “Hey!” You somehow managed to pick up the same voice you were trying to get away from through the loud noises of the party

When you thought, you had escaped him, you were turned around and met with Jake’s body as he pulled you towards him and held a protective arm over you. You heard a loud thud from behind and you peered over your shoulders to see someone crashed into a wave of people causing them to fall down like dominos.

Your eyes widen as you and Jake’s eyes met as he gave you a tight smile and gave a squeeze to your shoulder before letting his arm fall to his side to let you go.

You shivered at the sudden coldness from when his arm unwrapped itself from around you and you stopped yourself from thinking about that anymore.

“Good thing I was able to catch up to you before you became one of those people” He puckered his plump lips to the people who slipped trying to get back on their feet

He expected to get sine type of reaction out of you from his comment, literally anything would have satisfied him but you only stared at him with an unreadable expression and it was driving him insane.

Just because you were quiet didn’t mean you weren’t known about, especially to Jake. He’s seen you walking around campus multiple times and his eyes always followed you until you were out of his sight as he deemed you, pretty mysterious girl, that he tried numerous times to talk to but always failed in the end.

“Hun! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” One of your friends suddenly appeared after not seeing her the moment you entered the party, as she wrapped her arm around your arm but she piqued seeing Jake

“Jakey? What’s your deal with my friend?” Your friend narrowed her eyes to him as he weakly raised his hands up to show his innocence

“Just watching out for her” His gaze shifted onto you before walking away from the two of you without another word

Your friend dusted you to remove Jake’s presence off of you, “Hun you have to be careful of guys like Jake. He’s always up to no good” Your friend pouted, shaking her head, “I’m speaking from experience”

But instead of paying attention to your friend’s rambles, you zoned out as you unconsciously searched through the numerous crowd of faces until you found Jake’s piercing gaze already on you.

A smirk plastered on his face as he gave a wave towards you, as an acknowledgement, to let you know that just how you looked from him in the crowd, he always looked for you too.

You frowned when you caught his face but your eyes never left his once.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The night was still young according to your friends’ words as they squealed dragging you with them to a separate room in the house away from the party.

Right when you entered the room, it was silent and peaceful. The room blocked out the unbearable noise of the party and you hummed in happiness until your eyes settled upon the circle formed in the middle of the room, your eyes immediately soloing out Jake who let out a grin seeing you.

“You finally made it” Heeseung, another one a part of Jake’s infamous friend group spoke as he motioned for you and your friends to sit down with them

You saw how Jake shot his eyes towards the empty space next to him to you but it was filled by the very friend who warned you to stay away from Jake. “Jakey!” Her voice squealed as she sat uncomfortably close to him

Jake’s eyes darted from you to your friend but you turned your heel to sit across from him in between his other two closest friends, Jay and Sunghoon.

They gave a courtesy greeting as you sat down which you quietly returned, already hating the position you were in.

“Alright! Let’s get this party actually started!” Heeseung called out as he brought out an empty bottle and placed in between the circle

“Are you in middle school Heeseung? What is this?” Sunghoon sharply commented and Heeseung scoffed

“Relax it’s either do the dare or take a shot” Heeseung explained as he brought out a bottle of pure vodka next to hi

With the sudden view of the alcohol, it rose out cheers and claps of joy as Heeseung quickly spun the empty bottle anticipating who would be the first one to be picked.

Your eyes watched the spinning bottle, feeling your heart racing as the bottle spun and spun before slowly coming to a stop right in front of you. Your friend next to Jake gasped seeing you being the first one to be chosen for it.

“What’s it going to be… Dare? Or shot?” Heeseung asked as his hands held the vodka bottle and you gulped, eyeing the bottle

No response came out of you as you still looked to the bottle which made Heeseung raise an eyebrow in amusement, “Choosing to take a shot on the first round. Interesting” He chuckled as he poured you your shot and handed it over to you

You grabbed the shot as you looked ahead of you, seeing Jake’s worried expression but you looked away, mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable burn in your throat but when you were going to bring it to your lips, a hand suddenly grabbed the shot from you.

You looked to see Jake’s friend, Jay, down the shot in your honor, hissing at the burn. “Aw come on Jay, it was for her!” Your friend grumpily told but he didn’t pay any mind to her and handed the shot back to Heeseung

“Alright Jay’s stepping in as the gentleman he is” Sunghoon clapped his hands loudly at his friend who gave a shove to him behind your back to shut him up

Heeseung looked to you before telling you to spin the bottle for the next round. You leaned forward and weakly spun the bottle before going back to your spot.

As the bottle spun, you leaned your body to Jay who instantly noticed and brought his head towards you, “Thank you for taking the shot for me” You quietly spoke and Jay kindly smiled and waved it off as nothing

“You didn’t seem to want to take the shot or the dare so I decided to step in” Jay returned your soft tone with his own

You gave a small smile and a soft nod of your head before straightening out your posture, seeing the bottle im the corner of your eye slowing down in your opposite direction.

Jake’s fisted his knee as he looked between you and Jay, not able to hear the short shared words. How was it possible that Jay received more attention than he ever could only ever imagine getting in the span of not even 30 minutes in meeting you.

“What’s it going to be Jake? Dare or shot?”

The mention of his name brought him back from looking at you who finally leaned away from Jay and straightened out your body to look at him as the bottle pointed towards him.

“What?” Jake’s confused response as he looked around caused a light ripple of chuckles and Heeseung pointed to the bottle that pointed to him

“Dare or shot?” He was asked the question once again and he snuck a glance to you, who didn’t look away from him once

“Dare” Oo’s filled the room and Sunghoon quickly jumped in, wanting to give his best friend the dare

“I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with someone in this room” Jake felt his heart drop as he stared at his friend, bewildered at the dare given

Sunghoon only smirked before sneaking a glance towards you before leaning back on his hands staring to Jake. “Your choice though”

Hearing the offer of him being allowed to choose who to do seven minutes in heaven made his mind wander to you, the only person clouding him.

Your friend on the other hand was oblivious and batted her eyelashes, seeing Jake get up from his spot as she expected him to offer a hand to join him but her jaw fell slack seeing him walk over to you and offer his hand to you instead.

You looked to Jake’s hand before looking up to his gaze that only focused on you. “Will you do seven minutes in heaven with me?” Jake asked and you hesitantly nibbled on your lip

There was a moment of silence, anticipation filling the air of what your response was going to be to his offer and gasped filled the room when you softly clasped your hands with his as he helped you to your feet then guided you to the closet in the room.

The moment the closet door closed, the timer started. Jake underestimated just how small the closet was as there was barely enough space for the two of you to move freely.

The only source of light was the one shinning from underneath the crack of the closet door. But Jake somehow was able to see your face clearly, as the front of your body was against his.

Jake nervously gulped feeling your tits pressing against him and you slightly moved in the crammed closet and he closed his eyes silently, asking for forgiveness for the sinful thoughts in his head. “Jake?” Your soft voice calling out his name, shot fire throughout his body and burned him

He weakly hummed not trusting himself to speak. “How come you asked me to do this with you?” Your question made him open his eyes to face you

As his eyes found yours in the dark, he could still feel the intensity of the moment and it turn his mind into mush as he softly grasped your cheeks with his hand and brought his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over you. “Push me away if you don’t want this” He murmured and he expected you to shove him away but little did he know, you didn’t want this to stop

Your lips were quick to meet with his and he let out a shocked noise before having his eyes close, melting into the kiss. Everything faded to dust and it was only you and Jake in the entire world.

You wrapped your arm around his head to bruise your lips even tighter together causing Jake to wrap his arms around to hold you close.

This was all he ever wanted to experience and he knew he couldn’t possibly let this go, he was going to make sure he super glue himself to you. “Jakey” You breathlessly let out as he leaned away from your mouth and peppered your jaw and neck with his kisses

“Keep saying my name like that” He murmured in your neck as your hands found their way to the fluff of hair

“Jakey. Jakey” You repeated and Jake’s hold on you tightened as he could feel his mind slipping off hearing your siren voice chanting his name

Such desperation and need filled your bodies as Jake slotted his leg in between you and grazing your clothed core making you let out a loud gasp, gripping his hair as he continued to nibble on your skin.

You slowly rubbed yourself on his offered leg, feeling your panties stick even more to you from the friction and you were panting loudly as you felt the delicious rub against your covered self.

Jake felt your rubbing self on him and smirked as whispered loud enough for you to hear, “Rubbing yourself on me with such desperation makes me think you want me to take you right here, right now”

You weakly nodded your head, mind reeling in the minimum pleasure you were feeling, “Yes, take me right here Jakey. P-please” Your broken out voice went straight to his aching cock and he couldn’t believe that you were asking, begging, for him

This was only supposed to be a simple round of seven minutes in heaven but instead it was going to go down in history in his books as the best seven minutes in heaven to ever exist.

He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose with a deep chuckle, “Anything you wish for hun” The usage of the nickname your friend uses for you made you shudder as it lolled off his tongue with such ease

Jake was quick to bring down his pants just enough for his cock to spring out as you turned to have your back towards him and dropped your panties and pants all in one shot, not wanting to waste the limited time you had left.

“Fuck” He gasped, even under the little to no lighting in the crammed closet, your pussy still glistened “The prettiest ever” Jake rubbed your ass in admiration as it pressed firmly against him

“Jakey please” You whined and Jake shushed you quickly as his chest hit your back as he brought his lips to your ear

“Gotta be quiet hun unless you want everyone out there to know I’m splitting you open with my cock” His hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear and you shivered at the thought of possibly being caught

You whined loudly and that caused Jake to cover your mouth with his hand as the other one helped eased his cock into your gaping hole. You gasped loudly in his hand from the intrusion, gripping his wrist harshly.

“Sucking me so good. Promise I’ll properly take care of you but right now we’re in a bit of a rush” Jake blabbed feeling the clench of you as you gripped him like no tomorrow

“F-fuck” Jake breathlessly let out only sinking halfway in before giving shallow thrust to help bottom him out later instead of right now, not wanting to be interrupted

You moaned in Jake’s hand as his hips met with your ass from behind. The stretch from his cock made you fall apart and you let your obscene noises fall out and onto his hand that still covered your mouth. “D-didn’t know you could be so fucking loud” Jake groaned as he soon found a fast pace that allowed you both to feel such heights of pleasures in a short amount of time

“Jakey!” Your muffled cries of his name only made him snap his hips harder into you, trying to chase the high for you to come together

His freehand rubbed your clit in fast circular motions causing you to claw his bracelet on his wrist in desperation.

“Come for me, come for me” The words against your ear made your clamp down tightly as you creamed his cock with your juices

His frantic thrust only became messier until he finally bottomed out inside of you as his warm seed filled your insides. He let out gruntled sigh as he emptied himself.

Jake let go of your mouth and held your body in his arm as he noticed your knees bucking from the wave of release.

He finally heard your soft whimpers and he hated how he had to make sure you stayed quiet instead of being able to properly hear your beautiful noises.

Jake soothed the side of your hips to help you relax as he kept his cock buried deep inside you not wanting to leave the warmth you provided for him.

He gulped trying to regain his breath, panting heavily as he could feel the slight twitching of his cock as you still remained your grip on him. The arm that didn’t hold your body up rested against the wall to hold himself up.

He could stay buried in your warm hole forever but the screeching of the closet door opening and the aggravating voice of Park Sunghoon filled his ears, “Time’s up-”

Jake quickly reached behind his back to the handle of the opening closet door and slammed it shut before anyone could see what happened inside the closet.

He didn’t need anyone else seeing you like this, it was something for his eyes only from now on.

You peered over your shoulder in fear but Jake gave you a reassuring smile as he continued to hold the door shut with his hand, “Don’t worry” He gave a feathering kiss to your cheek before poking your side making your squeal and jolt causing a slight friction in between your jointed selves.

He chuckled softly at the glare you sent him as he could feel his heart swelling because of you, “Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to take you out on a date”

——

[zzbubblegumbitchzz]

you trust me, yeah? // Quinn Hughes

is the line a little blurry or do i just like the way you sound?

AN: just a little part 2 of this story. This can definitely be read as a standalone.

WC: 1.3k

CW: weed/shotgunning, lake house shenanigans, thigh riding, Quinn's yappy, Trevor ruining a moment, a lowkey shitty ending bc I suck at those.

none of the photos are mine, i found them on pinterest. all credit to the owners.

Off season meant hanging out with the people you hadn’t seen all season or rather an excuse to get high and drink and be rowdy kids. Not being watched by a national sports league. You don't really smoke, never tried it. They never judged you for it, always offered if you ever did wanna try, they'd take it so easy on you and would never rush or push you into more than what you were comfortable with. Quinn made sure you never felt left out.

This is the time. you're gonna smoke weed today! you thought to yourself as you walked down from your bedroom. 

When you finally get to the yard, everyone's outside circled around a much too large fire pit. You're finally comfortable and there's no reason to be nervous. All your friends are right there. Quinn is right there. 

As the night goes on and more people are working their way inside to play some drinking games, you and Quinn are left outside with a half smoked blunt and a weak fire going. You'd take a deep breath, Quinn immediately catching onto your nerves. "Hey, what's wrong pretty?" Quinn always got a lil more affectionate when he was high. You weren't complaining though. After the last time, you wanted nothing more than him.

You'd shake your head and mumble “nothing”. He'd cock his eyebrow, not believing what you said. So you'd just quickly talk it out. 

"Iwannasmokeweedbutimalittlenervous" and you'd take another breath and stare at the fire. All to hear his sweet chuckle, "there's this thing that we could do, where you don't have to take a hit off the blunt. I could take the hit, give it to you and see how you feel." 

You're more confused now. What is talking about? How can you get high by not smoking it? He'd see the confusion on your face, "you trust me, yeah?" and you'd nod.

He'd pull you into his lap, and you're already bright red. Nervous, shy, hoping to all fuck that he can't feel how fast your heart is beating.

"Open your mouth a little bit." he'd relight the blunt, take a rather big hit, grab your jaw and pull you close. Close enough that his lips were on yours and blew the smoke into your lungs. He'd pull away a little, hand still holding your jaw. “See? Not too bad.”

You're both high, though Quinn’s way less high than you are. You're sitting on his bed together, pressed into each other's sides. The weight of him keeps you somewhat still. Some stupid movie he picked is playing and you aren't actually paying any attention to it. It's just background noise at this point.

You're hot and he is so close.

It's a problem that's been happening since the last night you were left alone with Quinn. Watching his hands and they way his arms flex and picturing back to the way they felt on your body. But right now his hands are the last thing on your mind, cause your eyes are stuck on his thighs, exposed by his stupidly small shorts. The fuzz of your brain moving quicker than your subconscious has you speaking something you never would've told him prior.

"I wonder if I can get off alone on someone's thigh."

Quinn’s brows scrunch, and he looks down at you a little wide eyed. "Huh?" You sigh a little. 

"Ya know," you say, biting at the inside of your cheek. "I just wonder if I could grind my pussy on a thigh and get off doing that and like just that. No actual sex, just that I guess."

He chokes on nothing. "What?" he mumbles again, but he's leaning down to you, listening fully now.

"Like, taking my pants off, then getting up on someone's thigh, rubbing against it and using it to get off." You lean back against his side and sigh.

Quinn can't even hide his boner anymore. His mind suddenly stuck on the image of his pretty best friend perched on his leg, begging, pleading him for something.

"Bet that'd feel good," he says softly, rubbing his hand on your shoulder. "Feeling a wet cunt on me. Helping you grind on my thigh." 

You don't even catch what he's said.

"Guess I'll never know," you pout.

His arm sneaks down behind you and around your waist and he's pulling you towards him. He leans down to your ear, whispering "Come here."

Your head snaps towards him, you furrow your brows. "What did you say?"

Quinn's pulling you into his lap, hands settling on your hips. His hard cock's pressing aginst your shorts.

"I said, come here.” His voice low, eyes searching your face. "We're best friends babe, already seen you spread for me. Just wanna see if you can do it'" He’s tugging at your shorts. "Can you take these off for me?"

You do, quickly. Body heavy, almost like you're in a dream and this isn't real. By the time you're snapped back to reality, his shorts are up, leaving his thigh fully bare, waiting for you. He raises his eyebrows at you, smirking. "Well, are you gonna try?"

"Shut up Quinny," you whisper. Your hands settle on his shoulders and you take a breath before moving down to his thigh, sitting on it. You whimper at the feeling, then fall into a fit of giggles. As you go to open your mouth Quinn grabs your hips and pulls you forward, your pussy sliding up his thigh and back to the position you were just in. "Oh my god."

"So fucking wet," he whispers, looking up at you with eyes, suddenly darker than they just were. "How long have you been this wet, baby?"

"Um - Uh. Not super long," you whisper, unsure of if he knows you're lying. As if he cant feel, just how wet you actually are. 

You move against him again, letting your cunt slide on the bare skin, you moan softly. 

"Oh, yeah?" Quinn asks, hands resting on your hips. Grip tightening each time you moan. "Feel good?"

"Uh huh."

He groans and uses his hands to guide your movements. Moving his thigh up every so often to add a little more pressure to your already aching clit. 

"Quinn, wanna-"

He stills your movements. "Wanna what, pretty? Wanna cum?" 

You can't form any words, just trying not to let the tears fall from his sudden stop. His fingers rub circles on the side of your thigh, and he pinches just to hear you moan. Making a mental note of that. "Asked you a question sweetheart, you want what?" 

"Wanna cum," your voice came out small.

He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, "go on, then. Let me see you cum, again."

His hands move off of your hips, and move to behind his head. Eyes trained on your body. Very obviously committing your wrecked state to his memory.

He’s sighing happily when he feels you move against him. "Doin' so good, don't gotta ask. Just go for it, alright?"

Nodding eagerly, you keep moving. Eyes closing as you're nearing the edge. 

His grip on your chin takes you by surprise, "eyes open, wanna see your pretty face fully when you come undone on my thigh. Wanna see how pretty you look when you make a mess."

"Oh, there we go, Atta girl. Come on." his eyes locked on yours, watching your mouth hang open. His finger finding a home against your tongue. “You gotta be quiet, don't want anyone else to hear you. That's for me only huh? Yeah it is. Gonna let me have it? Course you are, you're my good girl.”

He’s pulling you flush to his chest, hand settling on your lower back. “Did so good, pretty. I lo-” He's interrupted by his door handle rattling, forever thankful that even in his stoned thoughts he knew to lock the door. 

“Quinn! Where is y/n? I need her to settle an arguement.” Trevor’s voice slurs outside his door.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Naughty Boy

Post Prison! Spencer Reid x Unit Chief! Fem Reader

Synopsis: You and Spencer are trying to have a little fun in secret until Emily walks in… Spencer decides to make it a little more interesting underneath your desk.

Category: Smut

Warnings: established relationship, power dynamics, reader and spencer keep their relationship private so it’s a bit of forbidden love trope, kissing, smut warnings: lowkey sub!spencer, and also lowkey perv!spencer, spencer has a boner, straddling, stroking, cunnilingus, getting caught, exhibitionist kink? fingering, cumming in pants, use of ‘sweet boy’, ‘good boy’ and ‘naughty boy’, spencer lowkey pathetic- idk that should cover it

Author’s Note: hey lovelies! lowkey this one kinda sucked but i wanted to write a smut oneshot 🤭 got this idea watching a sitcom lmao anyways post prison sub spencer supremacy 🛐 debating on writing a part two to this one where reader punishes spencer hehehe let me know! please enjoy this one!! <3

A lot of changes happened since you’d become unit chief of the BAU. It wasn’t your intention of becoming unit chief but Emily Prentiss believed otherwise. She passed down the tassel to you since you’d had so much experience on this team for years. And she also knew Hotch would’ve wanted it, too.

After Barnes tried to take the BAU down, Emily was given back her job and hiring authority. Feeling as if you’d earned the spot, she promoted you. Of course, you were a little anxious taking charge at first but Emily assured she’d stay every step of the way and even offered to take over when you felt the power to be a bit too much.

You and Spencer’s relationship had become more balanced since he got back from prison and you felt the need to keep your relationship under wraps for as long as possible. Nobody knew you two were together, you both were very careful when it came to your relationship. You’d only been dating for a year and a half since he got back from prison where he’d finally confessed his undying love for you and that he’d show you just how much he loved you when he got out.

You’d both been pining after each other for years before the fact. And since then every moment you’d shared together has been wonderful, despite keeping it hidden from your colleagues. It was for the better, especially now that you were a higher power. If it wasn’t strictly forbidden before, it definitely was now that you were unit chief.

You were lucky that you’d chosen someone that was usually good at keeping secrets. You both never arrived to work together, you both left work at separate times and only ever spoke in a professional manner to one another. Of course, nothing too far as to not speaking to each other entirely. You were surprised that no one had suspected a thing for the year and a half you’d been together.

Today, you were in your office, filing everyone’s paperwork and signing off on them one by one. You’d just finished JJ’s when there was a knock on your door. “Come in.” You spoke and behind the door had been your loving and doting boyfriend.

“This a bad time?” Spencer asked as he waited for your okay to come in. “No, no, not at all. Come in.” You smile and turn towards your already closed blinds. If you hadn’t already closed them, it definitely would’ve looked suspicious if you closed them now.

As soon as he shut your door, you stood up from your seat with a sly smirk and walk over to him. “So, what can I do you for?” You ask. “Oh, nothing, I just—” Spencer rests his hands on your hips. “I just missed you.”

You smile as you hold him close. It’d been a minute since you had a moment together. Cases were often disrupting already what little time you two had together.

“I missed you too, my love.” You say, looking into his eyes with a loving smile. “Why don’t we go out for dinner tonight? I’m working on the paperwork now so I won’t have to stay here too late tonight.” You suggest and he smile right back at you. “I’d like that. We could use a date night.”

You pull him closer to kiss you on your lips and as you pull him flush against your body, you feel it. It’s definitely unmistakable that he’s hard in his pants.

“Uh, baby?” You ask, pushing him a bit. “Yeah?” He asks as he leans his head down towards his collarbone. “Are you… hard just from a few kisses?” This wasn’t the first time he’d gotten an erection just from a few simple kisses from you. He pretty much gets turned on by anything you do. And you secretly love it.

“I can’t help it, Spencer admits into your neck. “You’re gorgeous.”

You blush at his words and smile, “Aw, thank you, my love.” His mouth stays on your neck, sucking on your pulse point. You pull him towards your chair and push him into it, getting on top of him and straddling him with a smirk etched on your face as you lean down and kiss him on his lips.

He tries to speak into the kiss, pushing you away for a brief moment. “Wait, wait, wait.” He says and you look down at him, your index finger tapping on his plump pink lips, staring down at them. You had a bit of an oral fixation when it came to Spencer Reid. Whether it was for yourself or for him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I just don’t want us to get caught, that’s all.” Spencer stated and you smile, “I know, sweet boy. But you let me worry about that, okay? Right now, I just want to take care of my boy.”

You run your hand towards the front of his slacks and palm his hard cock through his pants. He moans a little too loud and you are quick to clasp your free hand over his mouth. “If we want to this to work, you’re gonna need to be a good boy and be quiet, okay?” He nods vehemently into your palm.

You stroke him a few more times through his pants and you check and see that your sweet boy’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. You wonder how long you can keep him on the edge, how long you can make this until he’s shouting that he can’t take it anymore, how much he’ll—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

You and Spencer look at each other in horror before you quickly usher him underneath your desk and fix yourself up to the best of your ability, sitting in your seat. Surely, you could’ve explained that Spencer was just in here for a moment but you acted quickly and couldn’t risk whoever was coming in to talk to you to see what you two were doing. You two didn’t exactly have the best poker faces in the world.

“Come in.” You say, attempting to sound as normal as you can. The door opens and in walks Emily. “Hey, Y/n. Care if we talk for a moment?”

“Of course, come right in.” Emily nods, shutting the door behind her and sitting in the chair in front of your desk.

As Emily begins to talk with you about your most recent case paperwork and begins on giving you pointers on how to handle it quickly, Spencer is crouched underneath your desk and he has a perfect view up your skirt.

You’re too distracted with Emily being in the room to feel how his hands — his gorgeous hands — glide up and down your calf and they begin to reach in a higher place and you flinch as his nimble fingers touch your underwear.

Your eyes widen as Emily furrows her brows at you and seems to notice you’ve flinched. “Are you alright?” She asks and you nod, “Oh, yeah, super. Just too fidgety today,” You hold up your mug. “Too much coffee.”

Emily continues her advice as you feel Spencer removing your underwear down your thighs. You don’t see how he stuffs them in his pocket. He bunches your skirt to the best of his ability and you look down just for a brief moment to see that he’s become in a trance as he gawks at your wet pussy.

You’re so lucky that your desk is too high up for Emily to see what you two are doing. This is so wrong. You should definitely try and stop him but the fact that he could be caught underneath your desk — it just turns you on even more. Who knew you were such an exhibitionist?

“Another thing that I recommend that you do is—” You hardly listen to Emily as you try your best to give your undivided attention to her but it’s really difficult when the man you love is underneath your table, lapping at your pussy with his useful tongue.

You feel everything as he begins to suck on your clit and sticks his fingers into your hole and you try your best to keep a straight face. You bite your lip and try and keep yourself as hunched over as you can to not draw suspicion.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Emily asks, once more. “Uh, yeah,” Your cheeks redden. “I’m… just not feeling very…” You feel as he rolls his tongue in a figure-eight on your bundle of nerves. “Well at the… the moment.”

“If you need to go home, I can take over the rest of the day.” Emily offers and you think about it. You definitely need the time to punish your sweet boy for being needy and impatient, so maybe going home would be a good idea.

“Uh, that’s probably a good idea.” You say. “Why don’t you let the rest of the team know?” Emily nods and leaves the room and you wait for the door to shut to finally gasp and whimper.

As Emily exits the room, she walks away from the door and shudders. Yeah, she knew what the hell was happening. The team pretty much knew you two were together already. You guys didn’t have the best poker faces in the world.

“Oh, you naughty boy.” You back your seat up a bit as you run your hands through his hair. He takes his mouth off of you for a second to breathe. “I like seeing you in an authoritative position. It’s sexy.” With that, he dives back in, running his tongue through your folds again.

You take your hand through his locks, pushing him impossibly deeper into your pussy. “Oh, my God!” You exclaim softly, eyes rolling back as he finishes you off. “Come on, cum for me. Please. Please. Baby, please.” He pleads in your pussy, moaning and sending vibrations through your body as he sticks his fingers back inside.

You bite your lip to contain your moans in your office and you feel yourself gush over his face and look at him, his eyes blown with lust and love. “Did I do good?” Spencer asks, wiping his mouth of your essence and you smirk.

“You did.” You admit. “Now, that Emily’s gone, maybe I should finish what we started.” Spencer looks down and shakes his head, “No, I, uh, actually don’t need help with that anymore.”

You furrow your brows, look down and sure enough, Spencer’s slacks are a shade darker near his crotch. You should’ve expected this, he’d cum at the slightest touch.

“Somebody definitely wants to get punished tonight.” You tease, dragging a finger to his chin and he holds his arms up in surrender. “Hey, sorry I wanted to look good for my boss.”

You shake your head with a chuckle. He can be so impossible sometimes.

So, you tell him to exit the office as discreetly as he can with his blazer over his crotch to hide the evidence and to call in for the rest of the day, making an excuse that there’s a bug going around so you can edge him for hours on end when he gets to your apartment.

[multicohn]

summary: fans don’t like lando’s new girlfriend because how scary and emotionless she looks, but he could care less.

warnings: mention of fans not liking the reader

pairing: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: fluff, short one shot, established relationship

face claim: none

author note: lowkey kinda sucks. i don’t have much motivation to write rn but i wanted to upload something 🥲

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the couple had only been dating for only eight months before lando decided to reveal his girlfriend to the public. y/n had no problem with keeping it a secret since they were both unsure if their relationship would even work given the busy schedules they had, but through a lot of communication they managed to make it work. however, fans weren’t very happy since y/n always looked emotionless or angry on screen and in photos despite lando having a giant smile on his face that could rival all might’s ( my hero academia reference ) when he’s beside her. his fans were very vocal about how they felt about her, but neither of them cared.

the british grand prix was only a few days away and ever since they started dating, lando had dreamed of having her being by his side. however, y/n ( had exams that weekend / couldn’t get time off work ). he tried not to show that he was upset, brushing it off with a simple; "well, there's always next year", but y/n knew him too well and knew how much this race meant to him. any other race would have been understandable, but this was the british grand prix.

when lando arrived on thursday, he was immediately greeted by cameras, microphones, and merchandise being shoved at him from every direction.

"you look a little down, lando. not a fan of the weather?" it was quite cloudy that day and the rain was starting to pick up, but it was far from the reasoning behind his mood

"just didn't get a good sleep"

"oh?"

y/n had gone to bed much earlier than usual, saying she needed all the energy she possibly could for tomorrow. lando inquired about what was so important, but she refused to tell him. he had stayed up last night and wondered about what was happening; was her exam worth much more than he realised? / did her job have a special work thing going on that he doesn't remember?

lando sighed deeply as he made his way inside the hospitality area. his hand itching to grab his phone and text y/n despite knowing that she would be busy.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

y/n had lied.

she knew how much this race in particular meant to lando and she wasn’t going to miss it, but the thought of surprising him made her lie about school / work.

unfortunately, her plan slightly backfired as she was going to surprise lando when he finished his practice session, but the weather delayed everything.

shrugging it off, y/n entered the garage to find her boyfriend dressed in his race suit with a windbreak over top and looked to be dozing off in a chair.

“lando” y/n tapped his shoulder gently as she sat down beside him

“oh, hey baby” he commented while staring at her sleepily

. . .

he suddenly shot out of his chair making those around them jump in fright at the sudden movement.

“y/n?” lando rubbed his eyes. sure that his brain is still asleep and making him hallucinate

“yeah?”

“am i dreaming?” she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the tv where they were showing fans who were in colourful ponchos or raincoats

she almost laughed at seeing someone’s poncho decorated with george russell’s face.

however, all emotion left y/n's eyes as her face popped up on the screen before it shifted towards lando who was just dazing at her lovingly.

if they were in a cartoon, his eyes would've been hearts.

she heard some people let out “awes” and they started cooing at the couple making the edges of y/n's lips twitch upwards. she turned to her boyfriend and placed a hand on his cheeks before caressing softly.

once they were no longer on screen, y/n leaned forward and kissed her boyfriend gently.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[natalicss]

Guilty Conscience

choi seunghyun x american pop star!reader

summary: you’ve been out of the public eye for five years. at the 2025 grammys, you’re making your comeback. unbeknownst to you, your ex boyfriend has been making his own comeback to the industry.

warnings: angst, american!reader, lots of mental health talk, depression, anxiety, toxic music industry, toxic industry IN GENERAL, breakup, i kinda rushed this so it sucks lowkey

word count: 5.5k

nat’s notes: hey y’all!! i wanted to get this out as soon as possible so HERE I AM!! this is my first t.o.p fic so i hope yall enjoyyyy. i kept it angsty because ive been writing too much happy shit. you’re welcome. hope you guys enjoy, if you don’t…idk don’t tell me. i’m not promising a part two to this, but…never say never - xoxo former belieber

You sat at the vanity in your greenroom. You watched as your hair dresser and makeup stylist worked their magic, elevating your features in the most beautiful ways. Meanwhile, your stylist rambled on about your outfit, talking about how it fit your body in all the right ways, and how difficult it was to tailor it the way you wanted. A joke thrown out about how high maintenance you are. You don’t really respond, smiling faintly as you look back at your reflection. 

Part of you couldn’t believe it. You were sitting in a greenroom, wearing custom designer wardrobe, getting your makeup and hair done by familiar faces, and within the hour you would be standing on a stage in front of thousands of people, all of whom had no idea you were there. Part of it felt normal. A familiar pattern easy to slip back into as if no time had passed. But that’s the thing, time had passed. Five years. Five years since your last tour. Five and a half since your last album. Five years since you disappeared from the media. Five years since your mental health had taken a detrimental turn and you needed to take care of yourself. Five years since you and your ex boyfriend broke up and never saw each other again. 

Your own decision to go off the radar for so long had nothing to do with your breakup, not really. The media had been cruel, talking about you in ways it hadn’t before. Talking about your greatest insecurities, nit-picking at every move you made on and off stage, spreading rumors about your romantic life (all of which were false, but fans didn’t care), people you thought were your friends had turned out to be frauds. The world of fame of glamour that was usually just that suddenly felt ugly and dark. You had to escape. Your breakup had only been collateral damage, both you and your ex wanting the same things, but somehow you both paid the price. 

The day you met him was a silly one. You were on a world tour, years ago. You had just made your big break, winning awards left and right, promoting a new album, traveling to places you’d never been. When you had a show in Seoul, you were ecstatic. The show itself was absolutely epic, and would go down in your music career as one of your best shows. Everything about it was perfect. From your vocals, to your dancers, to the lights, to the band, and to the crowd, it was legendary. 

It was after the show, you were drinking water as your manager excitedly told you someone wanted to meet you. She said it was a big name, and you urgently moved to follow her to find who exactly had come to your show. And there he was. Choi Seunghyun, but in that moment you knew him at T.O.P. You tried to maintain your excitement, but you were pretty sure he saw right through you. 

There was no intention behind his introduction. He had wanted to meet you after Kwon Ji-yong had played your song for him. She’s the next big thing, for sure, he’d said as he gestured to your album on his phone. Ji-yong had continued to rave about you, which only led to Seunghyun looking you up himself. He’d quickly become enamored. With your charm, your wittiness, your creative process, all of which was shown in your interviews and your videos. You were a force to be reckoned with, just like Ji-yong said, and Seunghyun had to know you. He had to see how your mind worked. All of his curiosity was purely about music, about the industry.

So, the two of you became friends, following each other on socials. And you’d be the one to text him first, thanking him for coming to your show. You liked to think that text was what sealed your fate. Your fate that you’d eventually fall in love with Seunghyun. A whirlwind romance. Unexpected, but it made more sense than anything else ever had. The media had not known about the two of you (a choice you both made, and later were grateful for). The softness he held for you and nobody else. The warmth of his voice when he called you daily. The mischievous twinkle in his eyes when he’d surprise you by showing up at your shows. Your hands in his hair as you helped him dye it different colors. Your voice when you sang him your newest love songs inspired by him. Your laugh when he’d wrap his arms around your waist and lift you in the air.

A whirlwind romance that ended in fire and ashes. 

You don’t know where exactly it had all gone to shit, for lack of better words. Was it the distance? Was it the scandals the two of you had faced at the same time? Was it the pressure of society weighing you both down? You weren’t quite sure. You’d been there for Seunghyun during his darkest days. You’d stop your life to live with him as long as he needed. You faced his guilt, his anger, his grief, his anxiety, all with him even when he pushed you away. It never deterred you. Seunghyun, at the time, could never understand. Why would you want to be burdened by him and his actions? Why wouldn’t you leave him? He had tried, begged you, pleaded you to leave him be. He knew you deserved better than him, but he was too selfish at the time to end it himself. He didn’t want you to leave him. 

And when your own world started to crumble, Seunghyun tried to be there with you.The media had pulled you apart at the seams. The fans that once adored you now treated you like you were a wicked witch. The fellow musicians who were your friends now stood back and watched as you struggled for air. They let you drown in the cruelty of the media. And what had you done? The truth was, well, nothing. You’d done nothing wrong, and somehow that was the worst thing you could have done. You were good, too good, so surely something must be wrong with you. 

And as Seunghyun watched the light drain from your eyes, a guilt riddled in his chest. He’d tried to be there for you, but his efforts fell short. You were both drowning. Your own worlds were suffocating you both. He could not save you, for he could not save himself. But you could not save you, either, for you were too busy saving him. When he realized this, the selfish feelings he had were suddenly burning him alive. He could not keep you. Not when you paid the price. 

That was five years ago. Five years ago, Choi Seunghyun had broken up with you in his home in Seoul. Five years ago, you begged him with tears to stay. You were too selfish to let him go. He had to be the selfless one, because if he wasn’t, he knew the world would lose you permanently. He’d rather you’d hate him and live than love him and rot. 

His efforts pulled off. You spent the next five years healing. Therapy, medication, meditation, yoga, music, spending time with family or friends, and just about every other coping mechanism you could try. You did it all. Two years ago you started writing music again. A year and a half ago, you’d started producing. A year ago, you started working with your team to start talking about a comeback. And now, here you were, at the Grammy’s, about to announce exactly that. You were back, ready to face the spotlight after so long of praying it’d never find you again. 

The setlist was simple. It’d start playing an old song of yours, your first hit that started your career, before glitching out. Then, the set would open up to reveal you under the flickering lights before your biggest song started. You were shaking, unable to focus on anything other than directly ahead of you. You didn’t even want to think of the song you were about to play, because of course your biggest hit would be a song about Seunghyun. It was the first song you wrote about him. It was upbeat, fun, energetic, sensual, and hit every mark that reminded you of Seunghyun. The song had skyrocketed your career even farther than anything you’d seen. You were already building a name for yourself, but this song had became the song that people associated with you when you were mentioned. If only they knew who you thought of.

Still, you held your head high as you heard the cue. You could hear one song start, causing the crowd to go quiet. It only took a moment before they began to scream in realization. You sucked in a heavy breath, watching as the lights began to flicker, the set began to move, the audio began to malfunction, and the crowd got louder. It all came to a head as everything went quiet. A spotlight shined on you as you smirked at the camera. The crowd goes ballistic. Screaming, cheering, gasps of surprise coming from the guests of the night. You soaked in the cheers, the exact shot of energy you needed. You looked around, your confidence growing as you finally felt something you hadn’t in a long time. You felt like you belonged.

“Did you miss me?”

Choi Seunghyun was going about his own day. He’d been busy, of late. Interviews, working on his own music for the future, photoshoots. He’d been out of the public eye for so long, and he still was unsure of it all. Still, he was finding his footing in a world he once loved so much. His first step was acting. The perception had been mixed, at first, but now he was seeing the positives again. Something he hadn’t seen in years. 

He was in between meetings, taking a quick break. He was sitting in an office, alone, scrolling through his phone absentmindedly. Part of him loved seeing all the positive feedback, the love he’d gotten for his new role, the support for the future of his career. But part of it still settled uneasy on his chest. Seeing comments about his past reminded him of the guilt he’d tried so hard to move on from. Ignoring it was difficult, but he managed to do well most days.

Then, on his instagram explore page, he saw a familiar face. Yours.

He clicked on it.

There you were, standing on a stage. For a moment, he thought this was an old clip, but he knew it wasn’t because your hair was not that length the last time he saw you. He looked at the caption. Y/N MAKES COMEBACK AT THE GRAMMYS. PERFORMS HER BIGGEST HITS ALONG WITH NEW SINGLE.

He’d never admit how quickly he opened YouTube. 

Seunghyun felt all of the air in his longs dissipate as he stared at his phone screen. As the music of the song you wrote for him began to play. You looked different. Your eyes filled with a familiar light, something that hadn’t been there when you packed your things from his home. You looked healthier. Lighter. The weight of the media no longer crushing your bones like before. As the song started and your dancers moved with you, Seunghyun was mesmerized. The same way he was when he’d visit your shows. The way you move so effortlessly. The flirtation in your lyrics, when you’d lean against another dancer and let them sway your hips. The way you still sang it was better than the recording, in his opinion. He still new every word. He found himself mouthing them as he watched you command the stage like you never left.

For a moment, he felt jealous of you. The way it seemed like time hadn’t affected you like it did him. The way you seemed so…okay. He wasn’t okay. He had changed so much over the years, even more so when he finally bit the bullet and said goodbye. He wasn’t the same man he was. But you still looked the same. You had the same smile. The same choreography. The same dancers. You just looked…better.

“Did you miss me?” 

Your voice rang in his ears, the words feeling like a mockery of how he felt. Teasing the way he sat there staring at the screen with conflicted emotions swirling in his chest. He couldn’t help but wonder if you had seen him. His return to the industry. He’d wondered if you saw the articles months ago, or if you’d seen him in Squid Game first. He’d wondered if you saw the interviews he’d just done, or if you’d somehow manage to dodge anything relating to your ex lover. Maybe you were the luckier one out of the two of them. 

A familiar ache in his chest continued to build as he watched your performance. As you danced on stage with dancers he’d recognized from as far back as when he met you. As you sang to a crowd of your musical peers who’d either had your back or stabbed it. As you commanded the stage with a new level of confidence he’d hadn’t seen you wear in years. He felt that ache. He felt the way his heart pounded against his ribcage. How his lungs suddenly felt like they couldn’t hold enough air. How his eyes burned because he couldn’t blink. He could only stare.

As the song ended, the cameras cut to the various artists there, cheering and screaming loudly for you. A sense of pride washed over Seunghyun. This was the praise you’d deserved. To be recognized by some of the biggest stars in the industry. To be admired by the people again. It was all right there for you, waiting for you. Something he was sure you didn’t expect, but he did. 

As your dancers started to move away, you started walking to the second stage in the midst of the tables of guests. One dancer hands you a jacket to cover up, and you come to a microphone. A slow song starts playing. Seunghyun closes his eyes tightly as he realizes this was one of the last songs you’d released. It was a breakup song. A song filled with his promises he broke and your shattered heart left in between the lyrics. He had hardly listened to it since it was released, the memories of your breakup coming in every time.

You had stared at him with doe-eyes, but he refused to look at you. He couldn’t. Not when he finally had just enough strength to let you go. He knew one look at your heart broken face would have him retracting, falling to the floor and hugging your body as he begs you to forgive him and forget what he’d said. But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t keep you, no matter how much he wanted to.

You’d been living with him in Seoul for a while. Mostly to help him with his struggles, a choice you made without him asking. Your undying loyalty for him trumping any other option. The media’s cruelty towards you had started sometime after. You put on a brave face, at first, but as time passed by and their criticisms were more so filled with hate, your facade cracked. Seunghyun watched helplessly. He couldn’t save you. Not like this. He’d tried, but no words and no comfort were there. He was so broken, so lost within himself in the worst ways that he couldn’t even reach for your hand as you sobbed next to him at night. 

But you, you always did. You wiped his tears when he cried to you. You whispered sweet nothings to him to reassure him that he was deserving of good things. You made his favorite meals, or ordered them if you didn’t know how. You surprised him with small gifts. You loved him so seamlessly, so effortlessly, so loudly…Seunghyun didn’t understand why he couldn’t be as good to you as you were to him. 

And then, as he stood a few feet away from you, looking out a window, the guilt seemed to chew at his organs. The deafening silence felt cold. We can’t do this anymore, he had whispered to you. Your breath hitched, your soft eyes suddenly swimming with something else.

“Why?” Your voice came out in soft concern. “Seunghyun, what happened?” You were more worried about him. Because of course you were. Your love for him, your loyalty, it all seemed to matter more to you than anything.

Seunghyun closed his eyes tight as he tried to erase the way your voice sounded. “We aren’t good for eachother.” Was all he could say. His own voice would betray him if he said more.

You shook your head. You got up from the couch you’d previously been sitting on, walking closer to your boyfriend. He refuse to look at you. He was staring out at the city. A city he almost despised now. A world he had grown a resentment towards after it tore you apart. Him? Fine. He’d take his guilt and he’d drown in it again and again until it melted off his skin and left him nothing but bones. But you? You were different. You were better. You deserved better.

“I can’t help you,” He says softly, a quiet confession. “I can’t be the partner you need.”

It was almost naive of you, the way you only batted your eyes at him and shook your head. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t happening. This was some sick joke. Or maybe Seunghyun saw something in the media about him that made him feel insecure. You weren’t sure, but you knew that this couldn’t be it. Not like this. You reached for his arm, your fingers delicately touching his skin. “Seunghyun-” You flinched as he pulled away from your grasp. He’d never done that before, not even when the two of you got into your fights.

“This isn’t a discussion.” He said. His tone turned harsh, a way for him to get through this without shattering at your feet. It was another thing he didn’t do often with you. Sure, when you fought sometimes things got loud, shouting at each other to try and get your thoughts heard and understood. But the sting felt harsher here. You felt your eyes starting to burn as tears built up. You were so confused. This morning, the two of you were wrapped in each others arms, nothing more than tangled limbs and kisses with swollen lips. You two were smiling, your hands tracing each others bare skin. You two were happy, you thought. How could so much have changed in this short amount of time?

Seunghyun felt like he was going to throw up. Every part of his body screamed at him to shut the fuck up, change his mind, wrap you in his arms and throw the both of you back in the bed and stay there until your lips were bruised and your hands were molded to each other. Despite every urge, every instinct, every thought telling him to stop, he didn’t. He looked at you now, clenching his jaw hard as he watched the fat tears roll down your face.

“This isn’t working out. We aren’t working out.” He gestured to the air between you. Air that was usually warm and comforting had now became cold and suffocating. “I can’t do this anymore.”

You watched as he turned away from you, walking in the direction of your shared bedroom. Another emotion ate at you now. Rage boiled under your skin as you started storming after him. “What the hell is happening!?” You threw your hands in the air as you walked into the room. Confusion, frustration, it all swam in your expression as you looked at him. “You can’t do what anymore? I haven’t asked anything from you!”

That was true, and part of that was the problem. You never asked anything from him, because you knew how much he had on his own plate. Instead, you took what you could from him, accepting the little-to-no affection he’d give you most days. You accepted the uglier versions of him. The darker versions people in the industry hadn’t seen before. You accepted the days you’d go without seeing Seunghyun, knowing he was out somewhere coping in awful ways while you sat in your home and waited. You accepted the tears that he’d shed over his mistakes. You accepted the anger that came out at sudden moments, all swirled in with guilt. You took it all without a single complaint, and you loved him so deeply and so openly it hurt him more. Because he couldn’t do that for you. He couldn’t show his love for you in the ways you needed it. You were just to blind to see it.

Seunghyun ran his hand through his hair. “I know. I know, it’s not like that, okay? I just can’t-”

“Can’t what?” You walked closer, your eyes wide with desperation as you looked at him. You studied his face for anything at all. Something to explain this. Something that’d give away his thoughts. You wanted to understand. “What did I do? What can I do? Please, just talk to me. Please.” You begged. Your voice croaked as you tried to fight back your own sobs. “I’ll do anything. Just tell me what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”

This time, Seunghyun is the one that’s fighting back his sobs. He swallows painfully has he shakes his head at you. His heart was tearing apart. “Y/N,” He whispered. You stared at him, watching as he slowly shook his head. Somehow that spoke more words than anything either of you could say. It wasn’t up to you. He’d made his choice.

That felt like a lifetime ago, and yet he still remembered it like it was yesterday.

The breakup song wasn’t a ballad. In fact it had an almost upbeat tune behind it as you sang. Different emotions swirling in every lyric. Anger, desperation, bargaining, all of the same emotions you’d felt the very night your relationship fell apart. You sang alone on the little stage, moving around to sing at the crowd, but oftentimes your eyes remained on the camera in front of you. It felt as if you sang to him directly, all these years later. Reminding him. Reminding him how you would have stayed if he had asked. How you were always his even if he was not always yours. 

He clenched his jaw as he watched. Every time the camera switched to focus on the crowd or your band was a blessing. A second of freedom from the raw emotions you’d seemed to dig up when singing this song. It was like you were reliving it too. Just like he was. Both of you still stuck in that bedroom. Your voice still pleading for understanding. His body still yearning. His eyes avoiding you. His words shattering reality.

And when the song finally ended, Seunghyun couldn’t breathe. He wanted it to be over. He could click away, he knows that. But he doesn’t. He watches as the crowd cheers your name, and the cameras focus on the darkness of the room. A mystery lurking behind the scenes as people wondered what song you’d perform next.

The unfamiliar intro of another song began. Almost all vocals, the dancers crowded around your body, and you’re staring directly at the camera. The crowd goes wild as your dancers crowd around you, their hands dragging all over your body as you pose. A  beat hits, the lights go out. Seunghyun watches. Another beat, the lights flash on, and you start singing again. A new song, your first song in five years. You start a new complicated dance routine, your body moving naturally with every line.

Seunghyun listened closely to the words. His mouth went dry as he began to register the words. Your comeback song was filled with confidence, but it had a meaning behind it. Seunghyun started to blink, tapping his phone to rewind ten seconds to listen again. Seunghyun felt like throwing up. He very well might. You singing a song about loving someone, despite the way the both of you are, well, not very good for each other. Felt oddly on the nose. The sound of the song was much more your style. Pop with electronic flares, music with fun beats and catchy chorus’s that fueled your dancers. Sensuality flowing through you.

It dawned on him, then. Realization. You were back. You weren’t hiding from the industry, and in a way, you weren’t hiding from him. Whatever had changed between five years ago and now…he knew it was clear. You’d found yourself, just like he’d hoped. You were ethereal as you moved around the stage. You were confident, strong, sexy, absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but smirk, his chest swelling with pride. 

He’d always been proud of you. You’d always been freakishly talented. Your creative abilities amazed him. It’s what drew him to you in the first place. Even after all this time, you hadn’t lost that flare. That spark. He saw it, even now, as you struck a pose in the center of the stage, finishing the song. Everybody cheered. Everybody was on their feet, clapping and loudly yelling in appreciation. It had been a surprise for all of them, and seemingly everybody loved it. You were breathing heavily, and he could see it. Underneath the emotional layers you wore on stage, he could see the nerves that had seemed to finally relax. He could see your eyes studying every face. Your lips curling up in a wide smile.

You’d made it. Just like he knew you would. 

As the video ended, Seunghyun reopened instagram. It was still sitting on the same post. A news source that had already started making articles to explain how big of a deal this was. He could see comments piling up in excitement. You were breaking the internet, though that didn’t surprise him at all. A gentle, sad, soft smile on his face, Seunghyun double tapped the screen. A heart was on the middle of his screen, covering you for only a second, before he clicked his phone off. He looked up as someone walked in, telling him it was time for the next meeting. He stood up, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, nodding politely.

You were basking in after parties. 

Your music friends invited you out immediately, knowing you hadn’t been to one of these events in so long. You accepted, feeling deserving after making a comeback in a very loud way. Everyone was congratulating you, telling you how proud they were, how they couldn’t wait to hear what was next, and just about every other compliment imaginable. You let yourself accept them. It was praise you were no longer used to, but you’d be damned if you didn’t let yourself have it all for one night.

So, here you were, at some expensive hotel rented out by some super star for the party, dancing your heart out in a short sparkly dress, holding your third or fourth glass of champagne. You were having the time of your life. In your hiatus, you’d taken a lot of time for yourself. To learn to love yourself, to have more confidence in you and your choices. You took time to learn that the media was always going to be cruel; you just had to choose if you’d let it eat you alive or if you’d rise above it. It seems you’d finally learned how to do the latter. 

You’d also made the choice to stay off social media. You’d had side profiles to watch things, but you’d made the choice to focus on real life. It was an effort to keep the critiques and harsh words to a minimum for the last few years. Your team posted photos of your choice, let you pick the captions, they posted stories and such for you, but overall you remained off line. Until tonight, I guess. You had ended up sitting on a couch after dancing to way too many songs with your friends. You hiccuped, opening social media apps to see the reviews thus far.

Twitter, X, whatever, had been an expected mix. People mostly excited seeing you around again, looking happy and alive. Enthusiasm over the new music coming later in the year. There were the random haters, but you knew now to scroll past if it wasn’t meaningful or progressive in any way. 

Tiktok was already swimming with edits. You giggled at the comments, knowing how absolutely wild fans could get on there. You didn’t stay there long, worried you’d start overthinking the way you looked in certain frames. Silly things you can’t control. You were confident in your appearance and your stage presence now. Something you lacked before. But the nerves still ate at you, even if only slightly. It was progress, something that’d take time and more performances to work through. You closed the app to move on to another one.

Instagram comments flooded your page. You hadn’t posted anything yet, but people were already raving about you. Part of you was surprised. Sure, you knew some people would be happy, but the overwhelming amounts of love you were receiving was still unexpected. Even with years of therapy and self-help, you weren’t sure many people would care about you anymore. It felt nice to be proven otherwise. To prove the dark parts of you that still lingered wrong. 

You were looking at posts about you. From fanpages to news articles. Some included clips of your performance, some just random stills. You were smiling softly. People wanted more from you. They were ready for the single, the album, even a tour if thats what you chose. It all sparked a familiar joy in you. A familiar excitement that had been buried under years of torment from the media. But you weren’t letting it control you. Not anymore. 

Then, by chance, as you scrolled through the recommended posts on your explore page, you saw something.

Liked by ttt and others

You blinked, thinking it was the champagne making you read it wrong. You read it again. And again. And again. ttt. T.O.P. Choi Seunghyun. Suddenly you felt remarkably sober.

Admittedly, you stopped keeping up with him after Still Life came out. Your friends and people around you told you it wasn’t good for you, and they were right. You’d spent years waiting for him to come back to you. Waiting for him to check in. Send a postcard. Anything. You couldn’t fully heal while holding out for him. So you had to stop. You had to pull away even when every part of you hated the idea. 

And now you were staring at his instagram username like it’d just kicked you in the stomach. It felt that way too. 

You clicked his name. The air kicked out of your lungs as you looked at a photo of him with purple hair, painted nails, wearing a teal sweatshirt with the number 230. You’d heard he’d been in Squid Game, but you’d chosen to avoid it and Netflix entirely for the foreseeable future. 

This leads you to a spiral, in the middle of an afterparty, googling your ex boyfriend and seeing all the things he’d been up to while you were gone. From his wine company to dearMoon to Squid Game. His interviews were filled with remorse and nerves. You hated how you still felt empathy for him. You hated how deeply you related to every sentence. You hated how even after all this time it felt like the two of you spoke the same language. 

But you also had felt a smile form as you read his hopes for the future. As you saw photos of him. Clips of him doing press for the show. He was slowly coming out of the shell he’d been forced into. And he was still beautiful. Still soft and warm in the ways you remembered. You’d wanted this for him for so long, so of course you found yourself looking at photos of him with a level of fondness that felt unfamiliar now.

And as you stared at the video and series of photos of Seunghyun on Squid Games’s instagram account, you pondered your next move. What were the chances he’d see it? Slim, considering the post was a few days old. What were the chances fans would see it? Less slim, considering they’d be watching your moves now. So, you did the logical thing. You liked the image, a heart forming over Seunghyun’s face for a moment. Then, to cover your tracks, you liked a few more Squid Game posts. You’re just a fan of the show, you could say if people talked too much. You even were sure to follow Lee Jung Jae to make it more passable. Sure, your team and your friends would know the real reasonings, but it wasn’t obvious to anyone else.

Other than Seunghyun, of course, who saw it a few days later.

[polkadotzzzz]

pretty sheriff!

18+, mdni, power bottom caitlyn, sub top reader, strap on, nipple play, cheating, brief mention of vi.

a/n: i lowkey hate this,,,,,,,but enjoy the crumbs while i work on requests

i can't stop thinking about caitlyn and her young little assistant that she brings everywhere to important meetings, fancy dinners, fundraisers. she stays stuck by the side of a young girl who has dreams of being more than she ever could be, but little did everyone know that this 'assistant' has the strong sheriff of piltover making such whorish sounds for her.

"s-so pretty" you stammered, pushing your hips deeper into her. the silicone cock was dripping with caitlyn's arousal.

the moans that left caitlyn's lips was downright pornographic. her slick tight walls squeezed taut around the toy, and you couldn't help yourself as you plunged even deeper for her, trailing your hands down to her ass to spread her open, watching her hole wetly flutter around you.

she was so stern, so level-headed. never in a million years would you have believed this would happen. it's so dirty, so forbidden, so horrible of you, especially since her spouse was slaving away at work all day........

"p-please!" you whimpered loudly with each thrust the harness pressed into your sensitive clit sending sparks of pained pleasure up your spine her nails dug into your shoulders, creating small indents in its wake.

"so shameless" oh, so perfect. caitlyn breathed out guiding your movements, bucking her hips up to meet yours. "fucking a married woman, aren't you ashamed sweet girl? i'm so much older than you."

you tried you really could, but you couldn't speak. all you could do is moan and slobber all over her tits. you've always enjoyed her breasts, heavy to the touch and nicely shaped. they were always accentuated in that stupid sheriff's uniform and could never stop staring at them, and finally you've got the chance to touch.

caitlyn's raw bitten lips part with a soft gasp as you tug at her nipple with your teeth, sucking on it afterward to soothe the sting. had you known she'd enjoy that, you'd have had your mouth on them sooner?

blooming red marks littering her body varied in stages of healing. they weren't yours. they were never yours. the whole point of this was to not get caught yet seeing those marks the hickeys her spouse had left just the night before triggered something within her.

you wanted to mark her up too── no you had to mark her.

"hey now──" her hands delved into your hair with a wince as you dug your teeth into the collarbone. it stung, drawing a droplet of blood. "what has gotten into you?" she scolded, not giving any care to your glossy eyes. "biting me?"

"you like it when she does....." god, you can even recognize your own voice as so soft and meek and jealous.

caitlyn rolled her eyes. "of course i do", she spat, slightly smug, slightly teasing. "violets my wife, i love her."

this is just a game for her, working you up, spitting cruel words, putting you on desk duty at work, not letting you look up from your papers. for one moment, she switches from the generous heir to the spiteful domineering woman. she did all this because she knew you'd never leave her side.

"keep going", her cool breath hits your face, "before i get bored with you."

and god do you keep going even as your muscles ache, and your breath starts coming out in your pants, you keep snapping your hips into the vevelty walls because you don't want this to end. how would violet react to seeing her spouse being fucked on their bed? caitlyn enjoys your little show of power, but she thrives even more on the thrill of control you give. all it takes is a brush against your jaw or a finger tracing the drool sliding down your chin, and you were putty all for her.

the front door downstairs opens.

your heart stutters, your hips halting your breath from getting caught in your throat.

violet wasn't supposed to be home, yet not for another three hours. no, no, no, no, no──

your head was yanked back, harshly, sneering lips pressing towards yours. you whimpered, falling against her breasts, kneading needily at them like a stupid dog slobbering all over her lips using way too much tongue drooling all over her.

caitlyn broke the kiss to laugh. she didn't care that her wife was currently trekking up those very stairs. right at that moment, she couldn't care less.

caitlyn forced her tearing eyes to meet her, smirking when a droplet rolled down your cheek. it was satisfying and gratifying she could cum from watching you cry.

the door opened.

"cupcake! i──"

violet came to a screeching halt in the doorway, a million different emotions crawling onto her face: shock, sadness, hurt, betrayal, lust.

oh

caitlyn adjusted her position, locking her legs around your waist, tugging you closer and you whimpered loudly as the harness dug into your sensitive clit. fat tears are rolling down your cheeks now.

caitlyn chuckled slowly in pure amusement, nothing else.

"keep going dumb girl, make me cum, make my wife watch as you fuck me"

[shinig6mis]

you are awful at video games.

you know this. tomura knows this. the entire internet probably knows this by now, considering you’ve spent countless nights on his stream getting absolutely obliterated in every match, no matter how much he tries to coach you. and he does try, though half the time it’s through gritted teeth and muttered insults, hands twitching as if resisting the urge to just snatch the controller away from you and do it himself.

but you’re having fun, and that’s all that matters, right?

wrong.

tonight, you're sitting cross-legged on his gaming chair, wearing one of his oversized hoodies (because he said it was cold and refused to turn the heater on). tomura is beside you, sprawled on his bed, hoodie pulled up over his head as he watches you struggle through a level you should've cleared twenty minutes ago.

his stream chat is ruthless.

how is she this bad

pls put her out of her misery

tomura blink twice if you're in pain

he sighs loudly, letting his head fall back against the mattress. "you're killing me, princess. literally dying over here."

"i'm trying!" you whine, gripping the controller tighter. "the combos are confusing!"

he peeks at the screen just as your character plummets off the edge for the hundredth time. "jesus. do you want me to suffer? is that your plan?"

"shut up," you mumble, brows furrowed in concentration. "i'm focusing."

he scoffs, rolling onto his side to face you. "you’re embarrassing me in front of everyone."

"oh no! what a tragedy." you stick your tongue out at him before turning back to the game, missing the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for just a second too long.

he clicks his tongue, tapping away on his phone as his chat continues roasting you. he’s about to make some smart ass comment when he notices something that makes his fingers tighten around his phone.

someone in chat just said you were cute.

he stares at the message, then at the dozens of others popping up after it.

she’s actually so adorable

lowkey wanna wife her

im down bad for ur noob bestie tomura

a slow, simmering irritation builds in his chest.

he’s used to his chat being unhinged. they say dumb shit all the time. but for some reason, the idea of random faceless losers thirsting over you is making his jaw clench.

you're his best friend. his pain in the ass. his.

not theirs.

he doesn’t say anything at first, just subtly adjusts the camera angle so you’re barely visible in frame anymore. but his chat immediately notices.

tomura MOVE

why u blocking the view bro

he’s gatekeeping her lmao

his eye twitches. "shut up."

"who are you talking to?" you ask, not looking away from the screen.

"no one," he mutters, fingers tapping aggressively against his phone screen as he bans a few particularly annoying users from chat.

but it doesn’t stop. they keep talking about you, and the more they do, the worse his mood gets. he watches, silently seething, as you laugh at something, completely unaware of the way his grip tightens around his phone. you’re just so oblivious, so utterly clueless to the fact that he’s sitting right there, trying not to be a jealous, possessive freak over something as dumb as this.

it’s fine. it’s whatever. he doesn’t care.

except he does.

and when you finally beat the level, turning to him with a beaming smile and expecting praise, all you get is a grumpy huff as he yanks the controller from your hands.

"my turn. you suck."

"hey! i just finished that level!"

"yeah, after thirty minutes."

he ignores your protests, shoving his headset fully on and gripping the controller like he's about to unleash hell. his fingers move expertly over the buttons, and within seconds, he’s speeding through levels like they’re nothing. his chat is going insane, but he barely pays attention, too focused on demolishing every enemy in sight.

meanwhile, you slump against his shoulder, pouting. "you’re so mean."

he stiffens for half a second before relaxing, pretending not to care about the way your warmth seeps into his side.

"and you're awful at games," he grumbles, but his voice is softer now, barely audible over the sounds of combat filling the screen.

he doesn’t push you away.

and when you stay pressed against him, he doesn’t complain.

© 2025 shinig6mis | do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my work.

[hoshigray]

Just want to start and say hiiiii I love the work you put out and I can't get over how amazing they are. Since you said your inbox is open I was thinking about Life Guard Choso and a little lips to lips action by the pool side at night. Include anything else you see fit I don't mind☺️.

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: omg tyyyy !! and yippee, a choso request :DD haven't written for him in a long while

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: lifeguard! Choso x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing; making out - sexual acts in a public place; hotel pool room - breast fondling + sucking - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (m! + f! receiving) - praising - implied v + p insertion (ends with cowgirl) - implied unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - cameo: Nobara (best friend) - Choso having a lil crush on reader, and lowkey being horny on the job, lawl - reader lowkey being flirty and taking the lead role.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

“Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…!”

As lifeguarding night shifts go, last night’s had to be the most bewildering Choso has ever endured.

He sits on the lifeguard chair, observing the indoor pool area inside the hotel where he’s working during spring break.  Luckily, there weren’t many customers coming to use the pool during his shifts — especially the night ones. So, all Choso had to do was watch the hours go by, go to his lunch break, and occasionally come back if he was called in for the night shift. 

What sounds like a manageable task turns out to be otherwise because someone is sitting at the edge of the pool and captures Choso’s observant brown eyes from time to time. It’s you, sitting at the edge with your feet submerged in the water as you converse with your friend — he picks up their name is Nobara – about the joys of your spring break adventures for the past few days. 

Your frequent giggles and sweet voice are difficult for him to ignore, sneaking glances under his cap to see you, shooting himself internally for taking advantage to look at you in your cute one-piece swimsuit that hugged your curves nicely. And then the warmth of his blood swiftly changes to freezing temperature when your eyes land on him, averting his gaze back into the water before him.

The ripples of the water have him thinking back on the night shift last night, his cheeks reddening as he recollects the memories…

It was a lonely shift as Choso was the only person in the indoor pool area. It wasn’t until the hour touched two hours behind midnight when the door opened and came you. As someone who’s been lowkey crushing on you for the past few days, this immediately became the worst-case scenario for the young lifeguard, forced to gawk and examine your graceful swimming and two-piece figure. 

He’s been doing that for a solid fifteen minutes, suffering in silence while his eyes scan the curves of your thighs and legs and follow the droplets of water trickle down to your cleavage. Eyeing you with such indecency, what an inappropriate thing as a lifeguard.

And it comes back to bite him on the ass when you walk out of the pool and approach him to his chair, startling the pecan brown-haired hotel worker. “Hey there,” you say so charmingly, practically inviting him with just the greeting. “I can’t help but think you’re lonely here just watching me swim…Would you humor me and accompany me? Would feel bad I’m the reason you’re here doing your job at such a late hour…”

Choso knew he should shoot down the offer as he was still on duty. However, judging by how it was nearly an hour and a half from closing the pool and that most of the other hotel workers were gone, a tiny part of him was pinching him to accept the proposal of his mini-crush. It’s just a swim, in the water and out, right…?

That’s what he kept telling himself as he was following and talking with you in the pool; although every time you referred to him by his name, swam circles around his rigid body, or tittered at his words, that statement was demonstrated worthless. The lights from inside the water illuminated your frame lured Choso in with every minute, your eyes sparkling like the broken surface tension of the water.

“Hey, Choso,” God, he couldn’t believe you were calling him by his name; it sounded too dreamlike to be reality. “Have you ever given someone CPR?”

“Uhh, yeah, like once or twice,” he replied while averting his eyes to the other side of the room as if that would help his pinkish blush not be seen by you.

“Really?” You probed, bringing your frame for the water to reach your chin. “You must know the procedure pretty well, then…Hey, let me test you then!”

Huh? “What now?”

“Okay, I’m gonna pretend to drown, and you do whatever lifeguard procedure you do to get me out of the water.” You said it with such a beaming attitude that Choso couldn’t tell if you were serious. They can’t be serious…And then, you took a giant breath before allowing your body to be completely submerged in the water, sinking to the pool floor.

Choso looked to where you were for about five seconds; you two were at around the 4th or 5th feet of the pool — there’s no way you had to be serious. But five seconds turned to ten, and you didn’t exhibit any signs of wanting to breach. It caused his jaw to drop; no shot, they’re actually serious!

With haste, Choso waddles down to your spot and drives himself into the water, taken aback in perplexity when you greeted him with a wave. He then brings a hand under your legs and one to your shoulder, breaching with you in bridal style. He voices his bafflement, “Wh–What was that idea?”

“Hahaha, took you long enough; you’re a pretty terrible lifeguard for taking your sweet time rescuing me!” You jest to him, the comment poking right through Choso’s stature and dignity. 

“I didn’t know you were serious or not…”

“Drowning is always a serious issue,” you bat your eyes at him before poking the mark across his face. It wasn’t until then that Choso realized how close he had you, your face two inches away from his, and the top of your two-piece now in his line of sight for your cleavage to capture his dangerous curiosity. He turns his head to show some modesty he has left, but it’s too late; you saw him. A twinge of your lip forms a pleasant grin, “Well, you know what happens next, right?”

He blinks and brings his face back in your direction. Surely you didn’t mean that, asking the following to make sure, “Wh…What?”

“Mouth-to-mouth, of course!” Oh, this was going way too far, the poor lifeguard holding you frozen still at your goal. “Why, you don’t want to put your lips on me? Or were you sneaking glances at me these past few days for nothing?” Another arrow that shot him down; you knew!? “You’re not quite subtle, you know. Hehe, but I find that kinda cute.” 

Choso tried to explain himself, but what only came out was stammers and squeaks. Your gaze had him internally nervous and exposed, so you had to poke him even more, “So? Are you gonna leave your drowning rescuee’s lips alone or save me?”

He gulped at the phrasing, struggling to find the words to give to you. Not you were giving him a chance because your face was moving closer to his every second he didn’t answer. And when your eyelids come down, Choso hesitantly does as well and brings his lips onto your soft ones. 

The first peck was long, yet sweetly introduced you two together. You snaked your hand up his pecs to his neck, inviting him to kiss you a second time. His restraint dissolved with every sedation of your lips on his, and it vanished wholly when his ears picked up a moan. He becomes more adventurous and chews on your bottom lip, and the whimper you let out ignites something that he’s been dying to contain for this long. 

A hot and steamy kiss that was built up to happen here and now, and Choso relishes having you like this like it’s a dream. You break the kiss with a gasp for air, panting alongside him with a smile. “Well then, do I have to tell you what should happen next, too?”

When Choso silently leads you out of the pool with him, you are pleased that you don’t have to.

“—Khhh, ohooo, ohhhmyGod, Chosoooo, your tongue feels so good!”

Choso moved you to one of the cushioned chaise lounge chairs to lie as he ripped you off your bottoms and greeted your lower half with attention. Being between your legs was far from what he ever imagined; however, with how you tase on his tongue and the wails you’re letting out for him, he can’t find it in himself to stop now. 

He licks your clit with a circle, and you squeak at the motion. “Mmmm…feeling’ good there, Y/n?”

“Ohhh, yesss, oh yessss,” you respond with a hazed expression, letting your euphoric sounds fill the quiet indoor pool room occupied by you two. “Fuuuck, lick me more, please…”

Even your requests to him were dear to his ears, obliging your folds with feverish laps and swirls. Your cries become louder, legs jolting with ever every lave and suck of your leaking fluids. But Choso holds you by the thighs, massage them to relax your body. Damn, you felt so soft to his fingers, wanting to have his hands on you for as long as he can.

You bite your lip when your hand grabs tuffs of his down brunette hair, egging him to give your clitoris more kisses and hurried licks that almost have you choke on your spit. “Oh, myGod—Mmmph! You’re so good at this, Choso…Ahhhh, oh fuck, feels too gooood…!”

Choso lifts his head to lock his chocolate eyes with yours, examining your reaction when he switches his tongue with a forefinger bullying inside your vagina. The insertion has your bold jerk upwards, squirming at the finger that’s scraping the velvety texture of your vaginal walls. He then kisses from your thigh up to your abdomen, sucking on your skin to tease. Once he comes up to your top piece, he uses his free hand to bring it up and finally releases your breasts for his eyes to survey. His mouth doesn’t waste time having a nipple inside, licking on the bud as he gropes the other breast.

“Ahhnn! Hahhh, hehe, you look so hot doing that,” you comment, making the young man sneak a glance at you before he sucks and nibbles on the nipple. His finger inside your cunt goes faster, having you whine when his thumb comes to your clit. Swipes to the delicate button erupt howls from your agape mouth, “Ohhhh, Hoooohh, Ch’soooo, right there! Keep scraping me right there…pleaseee, don’t stop…!”

He withdrew from your nipple with a soft “pop” from his lips, bringing his face inches close to yours. “Gonna cum on my fingers, yeah?” He asks to distract you from the sneaking middle finger that invades between your folds. The two digits work together to reach places you couldn’t, rubbing and scratching your inner walls with tips. 

“Yesss, yesss, I’m gonna cum…! More, more—Oh, Ohooo!” Choso kisses you again, and you happily mewl into his lips as your orgasm climbs up with the pace of his fingers and his thumb pressing and swiping on your clit. Your chasm clamps onto his digits, bringing your hands to his face to keep the kiss going as your climax hits you.

Shocks from your body prompt you to tremble under him, the walls of your slit contract around his fingers, and your hips involuntarily sway to ride out the phases of your clarity. You suck on Choso’s tongue; his groans are music to your ears while your hand travels down to his swim trunks and feels the tent of his groin.

He moans, breaking the kiss to look where your hand is. You chuckle, “It’s time to return the favor. Come on, let’s switch.”

He follows your lead and takes the position you had previously, watching you situate yourself between his legs as you bring his trunks down to have his erection spring out. He panics a little when you gasp aloud while marveling at his limb, “My, what a long thing you were hiding from me…”

Your compliment has the blush on his ears scorch him with unbearable heat, and you keep eye contact while your plump lips place kisses on the sensitive pink tip of his cock. He hitches his breath at the contact, especially at your hand, grasping his length and beginning stroking motions.

Your tongue dances around his glans and presses on the frenulum, nibbling on the rough skin while your free hand goes to his testicles, softly kneading them to provoke moans to leave his lips. “Such cute sounds from such a cute guy; keep making more for me, okay?” He places a hand on your head, a sign that you take initiative to pop his dick into your mouth. 

Bobbing your head up and down, you take in Choso’s shaft inch by inch, the warmth of your mouth doing wonders to his senses. A hand grips the cushion of the tongue chair he’s lying on, and shivers crawl up his spine when you mumble after taking it to the hilt as your voice travels through his body. 

“Mmmm…Nngohh, fuck,” he curses with furrowed brows, biting his lip when sensing your tongue lick the underside of his cock. Fuck, your mouth felt so damn good — it took everything for Choso not to rut into your mouth voluntarily. Your tight throat didn’t make it any better, and the walls enveloping his entire girth had him drooling. 

Puffed cheeks suck on him leisurely, your lips coated from the saliva covering him, the noises so erotic and out of this world. You continue to massage his balls while your mouth occupies him, alternating with your hands to go down and suck on his balls roughly.

Here is where Choso finds it hard to contain himself with every second, his thighs jerking with every sign of pleasure, throwing his head back when his dick is back inside your gummy throat. Hips subtly propel to your mouth to create more friction, and he whimpers as you happily accept him with mumbled wails and restlessly jerk him off. 

“—Kahhnn, nnmgh, shit, Yn,” your name sounds like a dazed slur, the hand purchased on your head eggs you to go faster. He almost bites his tongue when yours teases his urethra for more of his precum, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming…shiiit, ohh…!”

And you give him aid, sucking on his cock harder and bobbing frantically while you use both your hands to pleasure him more. The commotion of his lower half corrupts all of his senses, hanging by a thread to hang on and howl your name out. One last lap and harsh suck on his glans induces a choked groan, and Choso finally ejaculates into your mouth.

With the thirst pump, you instantly take him back inside your throat, drinking every bit of his load exuding from his throbbing member. He thrusts as you suck him, his orgasm shaking his being with every rut and sob. He heaves and pants, your name said in helpless prayers while you suck his soul out. And, God, does he fucking love it so.

You give him mercy and release his shaft, placing more tiny kisses on it while watching Choso’s quaking frame calm down. And when he does, you bring your body off from between his legs. “Thank you for saving me, Choso.” You crawl to place a gentle kiss on his lips with a hum, and then you relish the cute sounds he makes as your wet cunt meets his length. 

“Let me reward you by pampering you more...”

“….—op, don’t stare at him so hard!”

“Is that him?”

Choso snaps back to the present when he hears familiar voices speak — it is you and Nobara he finds that are looking at you from across the poolside. Nobara being the one staring dead at him; your best friend’s eyes feel like daggers piercing Choso’s pale skin. It made him gulp with nervousness.

Then, she cocks her head and leans to speak. “Doesn’t look so bad; don’t know about that mark on his face, though…How long was it, again?”

“Shhh, be quiet!” You slap her arm to silence her, making the mistake of looking at Choso. You two look into each other’s gazes for a few seconds, the warmth of your cheeks creeping up and having you two sever your faces elsewhere. 

Nobara saw the exchange, lifting a brow before asking you, “So, do you want me to give him your number, or would you like to fuck him again before that—Oww!!“ Another slap to her bare shoulder, she winces this time.

“Jesus Christ, shut up!”

@screampied 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are wholeheartedly appreciated ☆ dividers by @/benkeibear.