#this song is stuck in my head so have at it y'all

[everythingundertheskycomics]

Dilute.

Hippo Crush

3/4

Previous

[highlifeboat]

No question, just hope your day is going well, my friend ^_^

My day's pretty good :3 Got a day off work so I'm just chillin.

Doodling some Maximus since he is ~*~On my mind~*~ right now

Drew some Prince Froglip earlier too (I want to squeeze him like a stress toy)

Anyway I hope your day is going well too!

[shewantsitall]

Never thought I would be a Sports Girlie but like... here I am, thriving 💖

[nanenna]

Okay, so this post haunted me all day at work today. At first I was like "pumpkin or zucchini bread is pretty much the same thing and would also fit right into a hobbit garden." But then I remembered that both of those are native to the Americas and thus should probably not be in LotR. Except you know what else is a new world food?

So you know what? Hobbits totally grow pumpkins and zucchini and then make them into tasty breads to eat with their afternoon tea. No bananas necessary, they have a lovely food that fills the same role. UwU

I think that banana bread is a very hobbit-like food. I could imagine Bilbo having a slice with his tea. The thing is I cannot for the life of me imagine a fucking banana in Middle-Earth. They don’t belong there. Solution: banana bread just spawns in the Shire and no one fucking knows where it comes from

[chlorinecake]

A SUCKER FOR THE TASTE ✦— 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

▹ PAIRING — experienced husband heeseung x virgin f. reader

▹ GENRE — smut, fluff, newlyweds au

▹ SYNOPSIS — As teens, you were the uncanny duo that fell in love at first sight. Some odd years later, and you’re now a newlywed couple, spending your first night together in a fit of nerves as you navigate sex and other new feelings…

▹ WARNINGS — KINKTOBER SPECIAL, basically just pussy drunk!husband!heeseung making you squirt for hours on the night of your honeymoon, marriage themes (duh), mentions of food, dom and sub dynamics, kissing with tongue, overstimulation kink (reader cums multiple times), oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, petnames (baby, angel, pretty, sweetie), that’s all

▹ WORD COUNT: 3.3k — DAY 1

YOU AND HEESEUNG were like Romeo and Juliet; two people from totally different walks of life, and honestly, no one ever would’ve guessed you two’d end up falling for each other.

Sometimes, it’s hard to tell any time had passed between the first moment you met Heeseung with a hickey on his neck in the lunch hall to now as you sit before him on a king sized bed, ring fingers clad with beautiful bands to match as you stared into each others eyes, speaking a love song of unspoken words.

“You’re fine with waiting til marriage?” You remember asking him a few weeks after you first started dating as teens, “you won’t think I’m a prude for wanting to keep things traditional?…”

“Of course not, sweetie,” you remember him answering while cupping your face in his hands, “a girl like you is worth the wait—” He whispered in between kissing your lips, “—and so much more…”

Since that moment, you and Heeseung have stuck to your guns, not even so much as showering together to keep your purity intact until the right moment…

… That fateful day when you’d say “I do” and he the same, right before venturing off into the sunset on angel’s wings to explore another country together.

Another life, might I add, as a married couple on your extravagant honeymoon…

Everything was so magical in your head, too… but regardless of that, Heeseung was too big of a fucking dork to let himself be romantic for once.

Just an hour ago, he had told the hotel receptionist “you too” after she congratulated you both on getting married—

“Grrrrrrrrr,” he pouted, scrunching his nose at you.

“Did you just… growl at me!?”

“Yes, and I’ll do it again if you keep resisting,” Heeseung threatened playfully, pointing an accusing finger at your frame now.

Sighing, you raised your hands beside your head as a sign of compliance, parting your lips slightly as you held your head back for him.

“Alright, don't move this time, alright? We can do this!” He ordered more passionately this time, cradling a single grape between his fingers before angling his wrist backwards and launching it towards your mouth.

“Oh my gosh, I finally caught it!” You shouted with excitement, words coming out a bit slurred as you bit down into the sweet fruit, “Tastes like victory,” you continued, making Heeseung grace you with his thundering ovation.

“Brava!” He began to cheer, but the rest of his sentence was interrupted by his own burp, which only elicited a fit of embarrassed giggles from the both of you…

Two empty glasses of wine sat on the hotel nightstand beside the bed you were currently sat on, and if it wasn't obvious enough, y'all were already starting to experience the giddy effects of the alcohol dancing in your systems.

“So,” you smiled, a laugh still present in your throat as you fed him a white grape from the bowl between you two, “we're the couple that eats pie in place of dinner now?”

“Sure... but not just any pie,” Heeseung corrected, leaning closer to your ear as he whispered, “blueeeberry pieeee.”

You're not sure if it was the wine or the honeymoon high, but you can't help yourself from laughing out loud at Heeseung's behavior in this moment—

“You’re a legend for always vibing with my horrible sense of humor, y’know that?” Your husband remarked while tilting his head at you endearingly.

“Your humor is definitely one-of-a-kind, but I wouldn't want you to change a thing about it,” you returned tenderly, right before feeding him a fork-full of blueberry pie from the dish between you two, feeling your heart swell as he smiled into the bite.

The kind of smile you’d have a hard time getting out of your mind later—

“Thanks, babe,” he said, a bit of dark blue jam resting in the corner of his mouth now as his eyes sparkled with what you could bet was pure flattery.

You always liked it whenever you managed to get Heeseung all flustered before you, considering how he was usually the one to make you a blushing mess with only his words.

“You've uh...” you stammer slightly, “you've got a little something on your lip there...”

“Really?”

“Yea, just... let me get it for you real quick,” you continue, licking the pad of your thumb before leaning forward to dab at the jam on his mouth.

That's when you noticed his lips curving into a subtle smirk as he whispered in a low voice, “You got it, baby?”

“Y-yea,” you stuttered again, feeling your face heat up at his words, and if you didn't look so hot to him right now, he would've pinched your cheeks—

“Whoops,” Heeseung gasped facetiously, pouting at the streak of blueberry jam he very intentionally just smeared on your lower lip, “must be the wine making me so clumsy today...”

Your eye almost twitched at the sight of him licking his finger clean, a rush of nerves swarming in your stomach now

“I-it's okay, Heeseung,” you said while lifting your thumb to your mouth, “I've got it...”

“No you don't,” he chuckled at your shy demeanor, right before closing the space between you two, taking your face in his hand and kissing you.

And yes, you saw this coming, but it took you a few seconds to fully close your eyes, letting them flutter shut as you both sighed at the taste of each other, almost as if the contact relaxed you…

The kiss was slow at first, with you and him simply breathing against each other’s mouths as his velvety lips moved against yours.

But that pace didn't last long once Heeseung broke from the kiss to move the bowl of grapes and pie out of the way, a few of the glossy green ovals hitting the ground with light thuds as his right hand found the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him.

The kiss grew more intense from there as both your heads were tilting into each other, wet smacks filling the room now as his tongue prodded against yours with every passing second.

“God, you taste so sweet,” Heeseung groaned, desperately clinging to your waist which only made you moan in response.

You and Heeseung had made out countless times in the past, but you could tell something was different this time... you never felt this worked up with him before, and you knew it wasn’t just gonna end with a kiss—

“Can’t wait to taste other parts of you, too, baby…” he hummed, kissing along your neck while pinning your delicate wrists above your head.

And that’s when you felt it…

The twitch between your legs and the heat rushing throughout your entire body…

You were wearing a plaid pajama skirt and white top that matched Heeseung’s plaid sweatpants and long sleeved shirt, as you simply expected to only eat some dessert, discuss the rest of your honeymoon plans, and head straight to sleep right after.

Now though, you knew you wouldn't be able to get much rest with your emotions like this… at least not comfortably, that is…

You’re between his lap at first until he guides you onto your back, kissing down your neck, between your breasts, and down your stomach as he lifts your top, stopping at the waist band of your skirt given the way your body tensed up suddenly.

“Is everything alright?” He asked softly, glancing back up at you with a swollen look to his pouty lips, given all the kissing they had just done.

You knew what was happening right now..

Heeseung was doing exactly what you had asked him to do, and as much as your body craved it, your mind kept fighting it for some reason…

FLASHBACK —

“Just… don’t make it too… formal, okay?”

“Formal?” Heeseung repeated with a slight chuckle as you sat beside each other on the plane that morning.

“Well, yea… I just don’t want to make a big deal out of it—”

“But it is a big deal, baby,” he cut you off by placing his hand over yours. “We’ve been waiting a long time for this, y’know?… Not just to have sex but—” he leaned closer to you as he whispered this in your ear, “—to make each other feel good… in all kinds of ways…”

His breath tickled your ear in that moment… similarly to how his lips were tickling you now as you laid before him on the mattress, his head hovering over the space between your thighs.

“We don’t have to go any further until you’re ready, love—”

“I’m ready, Heeseung,” you said while nodding, but he waited to continue, knowing in his heart that there was still something you needed to get off your chest.

He backed away, pulling your shirt back over your stomach and sitting on the bed normally now.

“Heeseung,” you said again, drawing his sparkly doe eyes back to you.

“I’m listening, love,” is all he replied with, offering you a warm smile, “what’s on your mind?”

What’s in the way? You internally asked yourself right after, knowing deep down that you had no reason to feel so nervous with him right now…

Heeseung had never alienated you because of your inexperience with sex before, and was always very understanding of your moral and sexual boundaries.

But now, things were different; you were a married couple, and one of the many perks of that was being able to explore each others body in a comfortable way…

Turns out though, it was all just your own insecurities clouding your judgment, and you hated that you couldn’t shake the nerves bubbling in your stomach…

“It’s just that,” you started nervously, fidgeting with your manicured nails, “I… I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, I know,” your husband nodded sarcastically, trying his best to resist the urge to kiss you again—

“And…well, you have a lot more experience than me with this kind of thing,” you continued, lowering your head.

“So what?”

“What if I don’t meet your expectations?…”

“Expectations? What do you mean, ____?”

“Well, you’ve been with a lot of other girls and what if I’m not as good as them? What if you don’t like sex with me?…”

Heeseung’s heart would’ve otherwise dropped at your words, but instead, he smiled softly, taking your chin in his hand and lifting your head towards him. “You’re nothing like those girls I was with in the past, ____, and that’s my favorite part about you,”

You looked into his eyes as he continued, “I’ll be happy with whatever happens tonight. You wanna know why? Because I did it with you, and I love you with my everything, princess…”

“I love you too, Heeseung,” you replied meekly, flashing him a soft smile as he kissed your cheek.

“No expectations tonight, then… okay, baby? I just wanna please you,” he whispered, slowly guiding your body back down against the mattress with a secure hand. “I wanna make you feel so good,” he continued, placing another kiss to the center of your lips. 

Heeseung started by letting his plush lips wander all over your body again, lifting your shirt up once more to leave open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach.

“You're so beautiful,” he murmured with warm breath against your skin, caressing your inner thighs with his hands until you naturally craned them open, inviting him to your pulsing core.

Your breath hitched once you felt his nose burry between your clothed folds, but your little sounds only excited him even further, and he wasted no time in removing your panties completely now.

“Heeseung,” you whined, watching him through half-lidded eyes as he spat on your cunt, toying with the moisture there using his middle and index finger.

“Just relax for me, angel,” your husband cooed with a soothing tone, and you're not sure if it was the alcohol or the petname he just called you in his bedroom voice, but your head was starting to feel very dizzy.

And if you weren't so horny, you would've felt bashful in front of him like this... half-naked, and trembling when he's hardly even touched you yet.

The coldness of his wedding band against the warm flesh of your thigh sent shivers down your spine, and he wasted no time in inviting his fingers into your sopping hole, one at a time until your walls practically sucked him in.

He then started to leave kitten licks against your sensitive bud, complimenting the pace by pumping his wrist towards your pelvis with his digits still exploring the gummy walls of your cunt.

Admittedly, you had tried fingering yourself in the past, but it never felt as good as the way Heeseung worked wonders inside you right now, but you still needed something...

Something to hold onto… something to grab, and Heeseung could immediately tell once your nails started weakly nipping at the bed sheets, your pussy throbbing more and more—

“Hee,” you moaned, feeling his fingers curl deeper and deeper inside your tight cunt, “need to touch you so bad...”

“Yea? Wanna hold my hand, pretty?”

All you can manage to do is nod desperately, making him chuckle slightly at your neediness.

“If you hold my hands, I need you to promise to keep your legs open for me on your own... can you do that for me, love?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, and with that, Heeseung got to work on licking your slick from his fingers before finding your hands in his.

But your core was already missing the stimulation, making your hips rise up and down as if thin air would provide enough friction to ease your craving.

And that's when he licked his first stripe up the center of your pussy, and you're sure your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the sensation.

It didn't take long for the pleasure to escalate from there, either.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked you in like a starved out man. His tongue was applying pressure in all the best ways before sinking into your hole, filling you up just enough to have you arching your back on the bed.

You felt your first orgasm wash over you, but you knew your husband had no intention of stopping so soon.

You were mewling beneath him at the overstimulation, thankful that he at least slowed down the pace of his tongue, even though he was still very earnestly slurping at your juices…

“Could eat this pussy for hours, princess… you’re just too delicious…” he groaned, and you felt the bed shaking from the way he was rutting his crotch against the mattress, furrowing his eyebrows as his kept eating you out.

“Come on baby, let me hear you,” Heeseung practically begged, his tone sounding so hoarse, so drunk as the vibrations from his voice only tantalized you even further, “tell me how good it feels...”

“F-feels s-so fucking good, baby,” you moaned, words coming out in fragments given how cloudy your brain was becoming, and you're pretty sure you had your second or third orgasm shortly after as your hands squeezed his, so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

His tongue was licking between your folds so well, the textured muscle making your skin tingle all over but in the best way imaginable.

Heeseung didn't plan on any of this to happening, which is why it felt so good in the first place. It was natural, raw, and so so messy…

Your own cum was dripping all over his chin and lips, and he was loving every single second of it.

He was obsessed with it. The way your clit throbbed against his lips, the way you squirted your juices all over his face, the way your thighs squirmed while struggling to stay open, and your angelically desperate cries of pleasure as he drew out orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

He wished he could watch your face contort with need as he fucked you with his face and tongue, but he couldn't look back up at you no matter how hard he tried… He had to keep his face buried between you…

Your strength eventually gave out and your grip released his hands that soon found one of your tits, gripping the mound of flesh in a way that only drew you even further over the edge.

Your hips had even developed a mind of their own, humping against his face like a bunny in heat as he whispered filthy nothings against your cunt, as well as sweet somethings that you'd hear for the next hour or two that Heesueng spent with his pointy nose brushing against your clit.

“You're so fucking wet for me, angel...”

“Love it when you come all over my face.”

“Pull my hair, baby... harder than that...”

“So so beautiful, and just for me.”

“Keep those pretty thighs open just like that, baby…”

“You taste so fucking divine...”

“Please don't tell me to stop... just one more, baby... I know you've got it in you...”

He found just as much enjoyment being between your thighs as you did in having him there, making you cream on his tongue again and again until you finally hiccuped the words, “N-no more, Hee... p-please, I can't t-take anymore...”

But your begging only made Heeseung even greedier, letting his fingers find your clit where he applied enough pressure and stimulation to break that last orgasm out of you, leaving you a shaking mess as he kissed you down, harder than a bullet in his own pants from getting to see you like this so many times and for so long in just one evening.

A series of shaky whimpers filled the room now as your husband crawled back over you, kissing you with his swollen lips while caressing the side of your fucked-out face. “You did so good for me, baby... especially on your first night...”

“Th-thank you,” you said with a weak chuckle, still feeling your orgasms fresh in your hips and thighs as he kept soothing you with his touch, your breath shaky in your chest after hours of coming undone with him…

That's when he moved over to lay beside you, and your eyes almost immediately caught sight of the thick bulge resting behind his pants, and you couldn't help but feel a little bad now given how he didn’t get much action the whole time.

“Do you want me to...” you started timidly, moving your hand to touch him up til he stopped you.

“Not tonight... we can have fun with that tomorrow,” Heeseung smiled, making you giggle again as he changed his position to make the bulge less noticeable, “for now though, let's focus on getting you cleaned up... sound good?”

“Better than good,” you replied tenderly, kissing him on the cheek before he got up from the bed and headed toward the hotel bathroom where he planned to run you a nice warm bath.

“Wait!” Your husband called out suddenly, just as he caught you trying to get out of the bed on your own.

Running over, a confused look remained on your face as he picked you up from the mattress bridal style, carrying you to the bathroom.

“I didn't forget how to walk, Heeseung,” you giggled, keeping your hands secure at his shoulder as he cradled you into the tub.

“I know,” he laughed, helping you get your top off and over your head as the water ran in the background, “I just didn't want my precious wife accidentally stepping on any of those grapes I dropped earlier...”

It went without saying that Heeseung had always been a loser, but he was your loser, and that fact alone was the bandaid that covered up every preconceived notion of him you ever created in the back of your mind…

You didn’t see him the way other people saw him… as the former man whore, troublemaker, or hopeless goof from high school, ‘destined’ to never change…

You saw him as the adorable nerd who accepted you for the things you saw as flaws… as the guy who still wore character themed PJ’s every once in a while that you now get to call “Hubby,” “lovey,” and “mine…”

⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who read this little fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 1 of my Kinktober Event !! If you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Sweet Dreams

A/N: You read my mind anon 💕 I'm not normally a fluffy sweet gal but this idea came to me, and every time I sat down to work on it, I would get stuck reading another and then another amazing Terry fic on here 😮‍💨 shout out to @megamindsecretlair the first Terry fic I read on here was written by her and now here I am, feral and unhinged 😃

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reader

Summary: Terry has night terrors, luckily he's found you and his love for you keeps him grounded

Genre/Warning: I mean yeah it's sweet and fluffy but y'all know me. 18+, minors kindly fuck off. Oral (f & m receiving), overstimulation (boffum cause they're equally matched)

Also I had this song on repeat writing it...

Please let me know what you think ☺️

Terry’s body was so tense, muscles spasming even in his sleep. His mind was stuck on a painful loop, replaying nightmares he lived and torturing him with tragedy after tragedy. This was familiar to him. He often came to this dream-like purgatory, so he’d trained his mind to pull himself out, fighting against the waves of grief to force himself awake.

He came to with a quiet “shit” escaping from his twitching lips. His fists were balled tightly and his skin was slightly damp from the torment his mind insists on putting him through. His heart was racing and he could feel a panic attack creeping up his stiff spine. Trying to slow his breathing down and ground himself, he focused on his 5 senses to bring him back to reality. 

His eyes locked on the ceiling fan, bringing his attention to the way the cool breeze in the room soothed his heated skin. He could hear your soft breathing next to him, and his heartbeat finally started to calm down some. He turned his head to look at you and inhaled deeply, allowing your sweet cinnamon spiced vanilla scent to comfort the raging emotions inside of him.

His whole body sagged against your bed in relief. Finally able to embrace the reality of being here, in your home, in your bed, with you peacefully resting next to him. His face softened staring at you, thick lips curving upwards with contentment taking in your form. You were on your back just like him, comforter pushed down past your knees from where you kick them when you overheat in the middle of the night. In just his US Marine shirt that you seemed to drown in and a satin scarf. Pretty face relaxed in the most peaceful expression. His heartbeat evened out, all was right in his world. 

He realized he left one of his senses neglected. Taste. He glanced over at his water on your nightstand then back at you. Water would do absolutely nothing for him right now. His mouth is watering for the peace he knows he’ll find nestled between your soft thighs. Moving stealthily like a feline in the night, he crept over to your side of the bed, careful to not jostle you awake. He pushed the comforter completely off the bed, and settled in between your spread legs. You wore nothing underneath his large t shirt, and your scent was more rich here, making his hunger for you more intense. 

He watched your chest rise and fall for a moment, then kissed his way up both your thighs, his beard softly grazing your skin making you shift. His nose nudged the shirt up the higher he kissed, and he heard you release a sigh, legs shifting slightly, spreading and unintentionally inviting him in deeper into your aura. He moved slowly, half of him wanting to let you rest, the other half of him growing surprisingly needy the more he inhaled your sweet scent. 

His shirt now resting on your tummy, you were exposed to him, and he paused to admire you. He’s convinced you’re made for him. Your energy keeping him anchored while his mind healed from life knocking him down more than enough times, your beauty making the walls he built around himself crumble at just the sight of you, your body perfectly taking him in and calming his storm. He was yours completely now, and you don’t even know the power you have over him.

Eyes locked on your face, he brought his plump lips to your own, leaving soft kisses all over your mound. You moaned and shifted again, slightly raising one knee, giving him enough room to hook a strong arm underneath your thigh. His other hand came up to gently part your folds, and he softly blew on your clit to wake her up. 

“Terry…” your voice was thick with sleep, eyes still shut, your breathing was coming out unevenly now. His striking eyes stayed glued to your face, and he watched you let out a sharp gasp as he lazily ran his tongue from your hole to your now very hard clit. 

“Terry!” He smiled into you at your agonized moan, giving you another long deliberate lick, finally satisfying his tastebuds with your essence.

“Take the shirt off, I want to see you.” He gave your clit loving, wet kisses, watching you scramble to free yourself from his shirt, and your eyes finally met his once you were bare.

“Good girl.” His eyes gleamed with pride at you willingly and eagerly giving yourself to him, like you always do. He circled your clit with his tongue, trapping it between his lips and moaning at the taste of you. This is exactly what he needed, to be completely consumed by you. 

You brought one hand down to grip his head, whispered pleas leaving you as you bucked into his mouth. He spit on your pussy and slurped it up, delighted by the way your voice gets hoarse the sloppier he eats. 

“Please baby, I need more!” You sounded so sweet and desperate, your eyes begging him to push you over the approaching edge. You loved that he often ate you out for his own pleasure, choosing to spend hours if he wanted to satiating his hunger. But waking up to his handsome face now wet from you, and his muscled arms guiding your hips to grind on his mouth, and hearing his moans as he indulged himself in you, it was too fucking much. “Pleaseee” you begged again.

“S’okay baby, I gotchu” he stopped playing with you then, wanting to enjoy the privilege of tasting your cum. His tongued moved down to start thrusting into your hole, his head moving up and down so his nose would rub against your clit, and you both moaned. You arched into his mouth as his hands soothed their way up your body to play with your nipples, pulling more wetnesses and pathetic noises from you.

“I’m so fucking close baby pleaseeee” and his lips came back up to your clit, sucking it more firmly and moaning around it. He worked his jaw faster and faster, licking and sucking, and his own hips started grinding into the side of the bed, needing to relieve the pressure in his boxers from chasing your high with you.

He pulled back only to tell you to cum for him, and then he messily made out with your pussy, licking up every drop you gave him as he turned you into a whimpering, twitching, cumming mess. His hands smoothed down your curves to grip your hips as his tongue slowed back down to lazy licks. Both of your hands pushed at his head trying to free yourself as he alternated from licking your pussy to your wet thighs, and back again, making sure he got all of you. 

“Okay Terry, okaaay!” You tried pushing harder, you were so sensitive and he was working you up again. He gave you a mischievous smile, eyes darkening with intention.

“You love me?” His voice so deep with desire it was almost a growl.

“Yes! Yes you know I do baby, come on” he chuckled at your high pitched whine, giving you another sweet lick and your hands were frantically clawing at his back, your clit getting overstimulated. “Let me show you how much I do!” He paused and quirked his brow at you before kissing his way up your body. You could feel his large length pressing against you through his boxers as he held himself over you, locking you into his intense gaze.

“Show me.” He pressed his lips onto yours and you moaned at the distinct taste of you as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your right leg and arm attached to him, holding on tightly and your left leg and arm pushed against the bed, never breaking the kiss as you guided him to lay on his back. Now on top of his sturdy body, your hands smoothed over his muscles and you grind your hips down on him, teasing him through his boxers. His hands came to grip your round ass firmly, giving it a playful jiggle and nipping at your bottom lip with his sharp teeth.

Your hand grips his jaw lightly, and you turn his head, finding that spot just under his ear that always gets you what you want. You give that spot a sweet, wet kiss, and you feel his hold on your ass tighten, making you grind harder on him. 

“I’m in charge now big guy” you suck on his neck, marking him for the world to see, and you miss the content smile on his face. He’s all too happy being yours. You make your way down his body, you roles reversed now, kissing as you go a paying attention to the spots that make him softly grunt and groan with pleasure.

Once you reach his boxers, you slowly stroke the thickness there, looking up at him from under your lashes. His hands were under his head, biceps bulging beautifully, and his eyes were closed with a small smile on his thick lips. He looked so damn handsome, and so peaceful, and so unaware of the hunger he awoke within you. You tugged his boxers down so just the tip was exposed to the warm air between you two, and gave the leaking tip a soft kiss, tasting him there and causing Terry to hiss through his teeth at the feeling. 

“You gonna let me take care of this?” You asked it so innocently while pulling his boxers the rest of the way down, tossing them somewhere behind you and raking your nails back up his legs, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Mmhh” ever a man of few words he opened his striking eyes, nodding at you and flexing his abs, causing his impressive dick to jump slightly. You put one hand on his thigh, and the other confidently gripped his base, bringing his length to stand up closer to your lips, and you watched him bite his plump bottom lip to stop himself from thrusting into your hand.

“I’ll make sure you don’t question if I love you again” he saw the determined glint in your eyes and chuckled.

“Baby I was jok-“ the rest of his sentence was choked off as your hot, wet tongue circled his tip slowly. Your eyes danced playfully as you did it again, watching him squeeze his eyes shut tightly and both his hands move down to grip your sheets.  “Shit baby girl”

You hummed on his tip sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout his body, sucking a little more of him into your mouth before pulling off quickly with a loud ‘pop’. The hand gripping his base stroked up to tease his tip, and Terry couldn’t keep up with all the sensations, he was never prepared to feel your talented mouth on him no matter how often you got on your knees for him. 

“You were saying handsome?” You didn’t give him a chance to answer your cheeky question as you took him back into your mouth, further down this time, your hand gripping the length of him that you couldn’t take and twisting in perfect harmony with your sucking. Deep, almost pained, groans left his mouth as he lightly bucked into your mouth, unable to hold back anymore.

“Fuck” you felt one of his large hands twist into your hair, your scarf long since gone, and he guided you a little bit faster, “just like that, you suck that dick so fuckin good” his words were slurring slightly already and you hummed around him again at his praise.

Moving your other hand from his thigh, you cupped his balls and lightly tugged downwards, and called out your name just like you knew he would. Resisting the pressure he put on your head with his hand in your hair, you repositioned yourself so you could stroke him with two hands and focus your mouth on the tip. He was so big that there was still parts of his dick that went untouched. He thrusted more clumsily in your mouth as you gave him everything, twisting your fists and slurping his tip, your eyes shut in concentration and you moaning around him. You were about to make him cum way faster than he meant to.

“Wait-baby-WAIT!” His hands pulled your head off of him as gently but urgently as he could and you pouted up at him. His chest was heaving, his brows furrowed and his hips still thrusting into your fist that still twisted and stroked around him.

“Aww handsome” your tone was mockingly sympathetic “is my love too much for you?” You couldn’t help the cruel smile that spread across your pretty face, and he frowned back at you, still helplessly bucking his hips.

“I need to be inside you, now.” His gray eyes were dark and serious, but you weren’t phased.

“I’m still in charge, remember?” You leaned forward to lightly kiss his tip and he gave you an exasperated moan of your name. “But I do wanna feel you stretch me Terry.” With that you crawled unhurriedly up his body, giving him soft sucks and bites randomly over his muscles and smooth skin.

You positioned your dripping pussy right over his dick, rubbing your clit on his hardness and you both moaned at just how damn good you felt together. His hands moved to caress your thighs and you quickly grabbed his wrists, placing his hands above his head. He blinked those pretty eyes at you in frustration but allowed you to hold him hostage, keeping the both of you from diving right off that cliff into an ocean of pleasure. 

You smiled down at him, sliding your whole body on him teasingly, he could feel your hard nipples on his chest, you hair tickling his neck, your pussy trying to drown him, it was overwhelming but it was exactly what he wanted. You attempted to hold both his wrists in one hand, your hands were much too small but he obeyed and stayed still all the same, and you brought your other hand down to grip him, positioning him right at your entrance.

“You love me Terry?” You gave him a cute smile, and he wanted to bite your lips, wanted to flip you over, wanted to remind you that you’ve met your match. But he also loved you like this, his passionate hell cat, his wild insatiable pretty girl that wasn’t afraid to take what the fuck she wanted, what she needed. 

His piercing eyes got lost in the depths of your own for another moment before he leaned up so he could speak softly against your lips, “of course I love you baby girl” he kissed you softly and you let him, trying to hold on to your resolve and not melt against him. He pulled back, eyes going from your luscious lips to your pretty eyes, “I love you with everything that I am” his deep voice sounded so earnest, and an intense wave of love and belonging washed over you. He had no idea how much you were his, and you had no idea how deeply he felt the same way.

You finally, agonizingly slowly, sank down on his tip, feeling him start to stretch you despite how sinfully wet you were. Both of you moan, you shift up slightly to take more of him in, and his head falls heavily to the bed, neither one of you able to keep your eyes open, just completely lost in each other. Once you take all of him, clit kissing his base, you give him a torturous grind, pussy clenching around him and adjusting to his large size. He growls out your name and you open your eyes to look down at him, bringing your hand back up to his wrists. 

He glared at you, he was trying so hard to be still, “girl if you don’t fucking move.” You giggled at his serious tone, happy to see the effect you have on him. You begin to slowly rock your hips, watching his jaw twitch, knowing this wasn’t enough for him but not caring because it made him stretch your pussy so deliciously.

“Like this-“ before you could even get your teasing question out, he yanked his hands from under yours, forcing you to brace your hands by his head. His strong hands grabbed your hips firmly, lifting you so he’d have space to slam up into you. You gasped sharply, eyes rolling back in your head as he found a steady pace, the wet smacks of skin filling the room with your surprised moans.

“I fucking tried baby” his deep voice was strained, you did that to him. His head was thrown back and he was panting. The way you sucked his dick, such sweet torture, and now this? He can’t take the hold you have on him. “I really fucking tried to let you be in charge baby. You don’t know what you do to me” he continued to thrust up, hands gripping you tighter feeling how your wet pussy molded around him. You loved when he got like this, when he gets talkative when he’s deep in you, unable to help himself, and you groan and throw your hips back onto him.

You sat up a little higher, bracing your hands on his wide chest, and you both locked eyes again. You bit your lip as you began to bounce, and he smiled at that. “There you fucking go pretty girl, look at you bouncing on this dick, that’s your dick huh baby?” You moaned and nodded, eyes rolling from pleasure and twerked your hips back harder.

“That’s my good girl, soaking daddy’s dick, listen to her talk to me” and you could hear the obscene noises your pussy made. That, combined with his voice talking to you so gruffly, and the feel of his tip hitting that spongy spot deep in you, you were close. He could tell by the way your moans were broken, and how you stopped talking shit, and how you bounced just a little bit harder.

“Play with your clit baby, lemme see you cream all over me” you groaned moving one hand to rub your clit, and the other to pinch your nipple, hips becoming frantic on him. The sight of your head thrown back, loud moans of his name leaving you, beautiful bouncing curves, and the creamy wetness he could see on his dick as he thrusted in and out from underneath you, he was right there behind you.

“Just like that baby girl, I can feel you gripping me, keep going” you worked your clit harder and he moved one of his hands to grip your neck firmly. That was all you needed to let go, your hips bucked wildly and your gripped him like you wanted to snap him in half, he growled at you, eyes never leaving your form has he continued to slam into you through your orgasm.

“That’s. My. Fucking. Girl.” He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust before he stilled, groaning your name and pulling you down onto him, your head in his neck and arms wrapped around his damp body and he softly fucked the last of his cum into you.

You both fought to catch your breath, chests heaving into each others. You gave his neck sweet kisses as he lightly caressed your back. You shifted, the soreness of your thighs and core now getting to you, and your pussy clenched automatically around his dick that was still hard. He hissed and pulled you tighter against him.

“It’s too much” you could tell his teeth were clenched as he said it.

“Oh?” You propped yourself up on your arms by his head once again, taking in his stressed features, he almost looked in pain. You moved like you were going to get off him, lifting your pussy slowly until just the head was caught in her grasp. “Really? Too much?” You lightly twerked on his tip, knowing it was extra sensitive and Terry urgently gripped the back of your thighs trying to lift you off him.

“Too fucking much baby girl, I can’t-“ you left him winded as you sank back down all the way, your pussy was hotter and wetter now, completely engulfing him in blinding pleasure, and he just swears his heart is gonna stop as fast as its beating now. You’re trying to kill him, he’s convinced!

All you do is laugh, getting off on him being overstimulated. It was rare to see him like this, the lines of his neck and hard body so strained, his eyes unable to stay open, crude words leaving his mumbling mouth, his nails digging into your thighs were he’s unable to decide if he should move you away or closer, he was helplessly at your mercy.

You did that move a few more times, slowly lifting up, pussy clenching around him, teasing his tip just barely inside you, and slamming onto him again. It was driving him crazy, he didn’t think he had anything left to give but he felt it coming, and you were determined to get every drop from him. He shouted, turning to bite your arm next to his face, as he came again. It was much less this time but still enough to cause your combined essence to overflow out of you, making a sticky mess between you two.

“That’s a good boy” you teased and he huffed a wheezing “fuck off” at you, lifting your hips with weak trembling arms and pulling you off him finally with a sharp gasp at the cool air meeting his spent dick.

You rested your head on his chest as he caught his breath. You were honestly spent, sore and weak and needed to clean up, but your ego was inflated and your pussy had a pleasant ache to it now. Terry’s chest wasn’t heaving anymore, in fact you were surprised to hear soft snores leaving him. You propped yourself up and looked him over, beautiful features serene, muscles relaxed and pliant, dick softening but an absolute mess, you did good. You weren’t the only one that taps out around here, sometimes he needed to be reminded of that. 

You pressed a sweet kiss to his shoulder and got up to clean yourself, moving sluggishly as exhaustion caught up to you. Terry fell further and further into pleasant dreams that smelled of cinnamon spiced vanilla and tasted distinctly of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okie dokie 😇 I'm gonna tag people in the comments that I've seen talk about Terry, I'll probably write more for him so let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the future. Like, comments, reblogs and messages in my asks are well received and appreciated 💕

[tj-crochets]

This quilt is ironed, quilt sandwich is assembled, and it's half quilted!

I don’t currently have backing on hand for the other baby quilt top, so I made another quick baby quilt top! It’s a much more vibrant pair of greens, I don’t know why my phone is washing it out so much

[river-witchery]

I know it's just that time of year (close to xmas) so everyone is talking about cultural christianity and christian beliefs and deconstructing them. And that is all fine in theory.

But oh my gods, it is making me not want to use tumblr until the new year.

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Toothache

How does one go "You're Too Sweet For Me" to "My Baby's Sweet As Can Be"?

Synopsis: Simon Riley finds himself stuck in a situation, growing feelings for his roommate who's so annoyingly caring, domestic, sweet and too good for him. What happens when he let's himself indulge in the sweetness rather than cage himself in the bitter life he's been told is the only one he's deserving of and the only life he's known?

Apologies to this mess of a lyricfic, I couldn't help it even though this was supposed to be a relationship analysis..

MEN WRITTEN BY ANA HUANG ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. Alright back to our original programmed schedule with Hozier. ALSO SURPRISE! THIS CONTAINS 3 HOZIER SONGS as an apology for not posting these past two weeks due to me enjoying holidays, reading, prom dress picking and wanting to stab myself because of life, there's the added bonus 👀

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Also reader in this one had a lot of characterization, she's me fr, so AFAB?Reader, Fem!Reader, Short!Reader, Reader is VERY feminine with fashion, soft-girl-sunshine!Reader and Chubby?Reader. Y'all have no idea how hard it is to write without a personality and physical intimacy in romance, I tried but failed 😭

Warnings and Disclaimers: Mentions and details on sexual content ahead (is this considered smut? Idk anymore). Not detailed smut but vivid memories of sexual intercourse (especially the dialogue) with Simon. Again, this is a safe account for all ages because I'm not a MDNI acc, you are responsible for your own media consumption. DO NOT GO ON MY DMS, INBOX OR REPLY TO MY CONTENT TO TELL ME YOUR AGE. I don't need to know that and let's strive to not make each other uncomfortable. Mentions of questioning of religion or rather belief on afterlife??

Pink, bold and italic: Lyrics

Italic: recalling past events

Little snippet of an image of how I imagined he'd hold you, courtesy of the one and only @ave661

"It can't be said I'm an early bird, it's 10 o'clock before I say a word. Baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?"

Simon Riley was never a man to live the life he was taught to in the military, it was out of habit for him to not leave his room until around noon. Then there was you, his roommate, he didn't exactly calculate how much it would affect his personal life to save money through rent by willingly letting someone within the same living space.

He'd find himself with not even a wink of sleep, hearing your footsteps through the thin walls, hearing the lock on the windows outside click open.

"You kept telling me to live right, to go to bed before the daylight. But then you wake up from the sunrise."

He'd always hear you, quite frankly it was like nagging on the constant.

"Simon you shouldn't do that, you'll hurt yourself"

"Simon please go get some rest"

"Simon.."

He'd swear he'd rip his own ears out every time his name falls from your lips from how sweet and chirpy it sounded and yet deafening silence would consume him whenever you aren't around.

"You don't gotta pretended, Baby, now and then. Don't you just wanna wake up dark as a lake? Smellin' lika bonfire, lost in the haze?"

Something about you makes it so tempting for Simon to give in, I mean it would be a one time thing, wouldn't it? So soft, so pliant, he set himself up for an addiction. It wasn't healthy, he knew this, he'd convince himself of the fact that he would end up hurting you.

Just too different, it repeated like a mantra in his head. He was bitter, brooding and didn't find any sense of pleasure in living. Why'd you think he has the job he chose? It's all he knew, till you skip your way into his life, giving him the sweetness he was deprived of.

"If you're drunk on life babe, I think it's great. But while in this world, I think I'll take my whiskey neat"

Drowning himself in alcohol, a trait Simon promised himself he wouldn't ever do when he was young, setting his glass down with a small thud from the wooden table. But what would the kid version of him know about life. He didn't have healthier options of coping with what seems to be his dilemma.

But then there you were, sweet little thing coming home at the late hour in that skimpy dress of yours. Revealing too much to the eyes of those who wish to have you for themselves with just one look. Where did you go that night?

"My coffee black in my bed at three, you're too sweet for me"

Desperately trying to keep himself awake and at bay from his thoughts of you. Drowning himself in now two cups of straight black coffee to help him focus.

It was odd, you got used to the scent, was strong with a lack of sweetness but it calmed you down knowing he was around.

How he'd corrupt you, he wanted to shatter that rose tinted glasses of yours to save you from himself because being with him would change you. Selfish but he doesn't want that, you were utter perfection..

Simon further delved into his feelings, what the fuck was wrong with him?

"I aim low. I aim true, and the ground's where I go. I work late where I'm free from the phone and the job gets done"

Grumbling, Simon walks back into the apartment in the middle of the night. You heard a thud, you come out of your bedroom, yawing from you incomplete sleep.

"Si..? Are you hurt? What happened?" You asked in a soft tone, careful not to agitate someone would could possibly be pissed off.

Simon stays silent, glaring at you as his eyes was only thing visible because of his balaclava. Your soft gaze intimidated him, because why would he feel that squeeze in his heart?

"But you worry some, I know but who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate. The rest of you like you're the TSA, I wish I could go along Babe, don't get me wrong..."

The only thing Simon heard was a sigh from you and nothing more, you walk up to him, each footstep feeling louder than that last.

Something Simon didn't expect you to do was wrap you arms around his waist, tiny thing you are that your head only goes up to his chest. Your body against his, basking in the warmth in contrast to the cold weather he had to deal with coming home.

"You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain, pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape. If you can sit in a barrel maybe I'll wait, until that day.."

You took care of him that night, to his reluctance and stubbornness. Despite refusing, he had no choice, he wouldn't want a soft thing like you on his ear the whole night till he agrees. You were persuasive in your own irritating way.

Sitting on the edge of the tub of the warm bath he's in, washcloth in hand. Touch was so gentle, why was it so soft? Why's it so warm? "It's the water you fucking idiot" his subconscious screaming at him. In denial.

Why is his heart beating so fast..? He wants to stab it to stop the feeling..

"I'd rather take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You're too sweet for me"

Using both your hands this time around, one gently holding his chin with your fingers while the other wiping away at the eyeblack he had. Every scar on his face felt the graze of your finger.

The slow blinks, your eyes on his. Before any conscious thoughts consume Simon, he lifts his arms from the warm water and wraps them around you.

Your nightgown was now damp but you couldn't care less, now with the man you were pinning over, foreheads against the other.

"Si.." you softly whisper. That nickname will be the death of him, you'll be the death of him. He crashes his lips on yours, not wanting to let go till you both were panting. You were too fucking sweet, your lips, your skin, everything. He wanted a taste and he got it...

"My lover's got humor, she's the giggle at a funeral. Knows everybody's disapproval, I should've worshiped her sooner"

Another sleepless night wasn't uncommon for someone like Simon.. however this aching feeling wasn't, he doesn't know where it's from or what it's about. Not until he heard you in the kitchen, letting out a giggle even though you knew better.

"If the Heavens ever did speak, She's the last true mouthpiece. Every Sunday's getting more bleak. A fresh poison each week "We were born sick"

That sweet fucking voice, like the angels speaking to him themselves. "Oh- I'm sorry Si, did I wake you up?" You asked, turning around to the sound of his footsteps.

That tiny nightdress of yours, a reminder of the night you spent together, that morning you slept in his bed.

Lashes beautifully displayed on the delicate skin of your under eyes. Soft noises while your chest was peacefully moving up and down with every breath.

"She tells me, "Worship in the bedroom". The only Heaven I'll be sent to, is when I'm alone with you I was born sick, but I love it Command me to be well. A, Amen, Amen, Amen"

"Simon.. Ahh~" you moan out softly, your body writhing underneath him. It felt hot, sweaty despite the well ventilated room, so intimate from something that was supposed to be the farthest thing from domestic.

"Shhh, you can take it sunshine.. You don't want the neighbors to hear us, do you?" Simon whispers, callous hand covering your mouth with as little pressure possible, you whimper at his words.

Closing your eyes to lose yourself in the pleasure you've never felt before. Your body being worshiped with gentle hands and soft kisses that leave marks by the very same man who kept distancing himself from you, now he'd stop at nothing for your pleasure.

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life."

"Simon.. no more–" you whined. Scratching his back hard enough to leave marks without being aware, he'd always imagine what those pretty pink nails could do to him.

"Just one more, please sunshine.. you remember our safe word right?" Simon asks for you to nod softly, you didn't have energy to take anymore. "I told you I'll make you feel good, didn't I? So be a good girl for me and take it, hmm?"

Your eyes roll back at his praise, your legs shake with one after another wave of pleasure running through your body. This man was starved.. insatiable.. who would be able to resist such a request? Not you.

"If I'm a pagan of the good times, my lover's the sunlight to keep the Goddess on my side. She demands a sacrifice, drain the whole sea, get something shiny"

It took everything in Simon not to worship the ground you walked on that night, he wasn't trying very hard, was he? Because always.. at the end of the night, you're in his bed, his mind, his life.

Was it really a sin? To want something you don't deserve? Simon stayed up that whole night, not a wink of sleep while thinking of whether this arrangement should continue. Every bone and organ in his body telling him to be selfish, take what was something that wasn't his to take.

"Something meaty for the main course, that's a fine looking high horse. What you got in the stable? We've a lot of starving faithful that looks tasty, that looks plenty, this is hungry work"

Simon's gaze, never faltering on your sleeping figure that he refuses to go anywhere but his own arms. He tries to close his eye to compose himself, free himself from the emotions you emit from him.

His efforts were to no use, all he saw was the image of you, sweetly smiling, those doe eye staring right through his soul.

"No masters or kings when the ritual begins. There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin In the madness, in the soil of that sad earthly scene. Only then I am human, only then I am clean"

You were getting too close for your own good, Simon knew that, he'll be damned if he let's himself hurt you. So he does what any stupid man would do, avoid you like the plague. Did it mean nothing? Were you just some fling, never to be talked about again?

Fuck you Simon Riley, he made you feel loved in bed like no man ever has or ever will, completely ruining your chance of ever thinking of anything else and that was just a hook-up session? Maybe this one time you can let yourself be delusional, was there really something more? Only one way to find out.

"Oh, oh, Amen, Amen, Amen, Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life"

You caught him, fucking finally, after days of waiting and trying to get him at the perfect time. "Si.." you whispered softly, you didn't know where to start. He took a quick glance at you before looking back at what he was doing.

"Simon Riley, don't fucking ignore me. Not after everything that happened those nights" You said, it was stern but he needed to hear it. It made him stop, think about what had happened.

Before he could generate a response, "Why?" You asked. It was a vague question, why was he ignoring you? Why does he feel this way? Why does he love you yet refuse to act on it?

"Take me to church, I'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. I'll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death. Good God, let me give you my life.."

"You don't deserve a man like me, you deserve one who is like you, optimistic, sweet, fucking beautiful and alive.. A man who's not damaged, scarred, has blood on his hands and haunted by his past. A man who's not afraid to show his love for you. A man who won't put his burdens on your shoulders and a man who will take care of you instead of the other way around. That's what you deserve and I can't give that"

Everything felt like it came to a stop, were you hearing that right?

"You have no idea how much you contradict yourself, Si. How are you so sure that you haven't given those things to me already? You might not be like me but "like me" isn't what I want.. I want you, every flaw, every beautiful scar. Not once before your silent treatment have you hurt me, it's frustrating yes, but you are worthy of that. Every struggle, frustration and mistake, every bit of your love is worth all of that. I want you to see that Si, your actual true worth rather than what some psychotic fucker decided to torture you with"

"Boys, workin' on empty. Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby, I'm so full of love I could barely eat"

"Si?"

"Yes, Sunshine?"

"I love you" You whispered after smothering him in a plethora of kisses. Never has anything made Simon melt more in his life than his wife say that. Doesn't matter how long it's been, how much the both of you have been through or how much frustration the both of you were going through..

It will always stay the same, the feeling those three words give him, like the first time, every moment feels that way. Familiar, finally.. Home.

"There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree. 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be, she give me toothaches just from kissin' me"

He always thought about how unfaithfulness was such a struggle between some people, he thought about how good he has it constantly, reflecting back on what he used to have to how now this is something he never thought he'd have or deserve.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

When a man finds himself in the verge of embracing death's arms, what causes the struggle? What causes him to fight that pain, to keep on going? Not once has this crossed Ghost's mind.

No. He's not Ghost, he's Simon. Your Simon.

And you're expecting your Simon home, fuck everything else, he'll give the biggest "fuck you" to death itself and crawl home to you because he'll be damned and he'll experience everything he has in his life over and over again just to hold you again.

"Boys, when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin, I woke with her walls around me. Nothin' in her room but an empty crib and I was burnin' up a fever I didn't care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did."

It should matter, the amount of blood on his hands. Not once did you judge him for it, what the fuck was wrong with you? Giving a monster such as him a bath like he was some innocent stray kitten, although this time around it was far more messy. The dried blood caked underneath his finger nails.

Flashing him a tired smile while you wiped off the blood that made the water in the tub a hue of brownish-red. Taking your hand in his, his lips brushing against your knuckles. The way you looked at him was enough to make him cry.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her"

"Fucking get up" Simon repeats to himself, "She needs you, she loves you" despite how many times he's convinced himself you didn't due to the voice of his father in his head, it felt like a knife twisting in his heart imagining how it would be for you without him.

How much you cried the night he came home a day later, you told him yourself, practically sobbing while clutching your aching chest and him with your other arm how you weren't ready for Price to show up at your doorsteps holding Simon's belongings.

He won't let that happen.. he can't...

"My babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. If the Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me"

Simon knew it, no one would ever love him like you do. No one would show him the same acceptance, devotion, care, concern and love. It wasn't healthy to be so attached dependently to someone in love.

He couldn't help it, it felt so right, everything with you did. Never a judgmental one, at least towards him. Always first to hold him, the first to ever take away the heavy guilt that weighed his heart and shoulders down after he'd done something he knows he'll go to hell for, if it's even real

"When I was kissing on my baby and she put her love down soft and sweet In the low lamplight I was free. Heaven and hell were words to me"

Every inch was kissed, not a part wasn't worshiped. "So fuckin' beautiful, so sweet. All for me, hmm?" Simon mumbled against your skin, suckling on the soft sweetness that he so claims. All hickeys, no bruises.

Fuck, he'd not just survive but thrive on just you. No other sustenance, your supple thighs he adores to cover in purple, your neck, your lips and your skin that he often compares to sugar syrup in his head.

"When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her"

The question was, was it worth it to live an eternity of lifetimes filled with suffer to be with you in at least once? The only answer to ever graze Simon Riley's lips was the word "yes", the day that changes is the day that he'd be the biggest bull-shiter the world has ever known.

Simon opened the door to your shared home, "Daddy!" A loud squeal wakes him up from his dread of what he's seen on the field.

"How's my little sunshine been? 'Ave you been good to your momma while I was gone?" Simon asked, carrying the little girl in his arms.

"Yes! Momma said we'd go to the park tomorrow as a reward for me helping out!" Little one saying it so proudly, Simon couldn't help but smile, beaming with pride as his little girl grows up to be what he recognizes as a good person.

"Simon..? You're finally home, I missed you so much" You said, peeking out the laundry room. You walked out, quick to give him a peck on the lips.

"I love you Si.."

"I love you too Sunshine"

Also this is a very long fic.. I expect long feedback.. @connorsui 👀

Does this make sense? Idk anymore it's like almost midnight and I'm running on a few hours of sleep. GOD MY PROM DRESS LOOKS SO GOOD, I CAN'T WAIT.

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @thelightdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @fawnchives @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

Trying out new dividers as well by @anitalenia

[atzaurora]

╰┈➤ ɪɴᴛᴏxɪᴄᴀᴛɪɴɢ

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] mіძᥒіgһ𝗍 mᥱᥣ᥆ძіᥱs

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Hongjoong

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!idol!songwriter!reader x idol!songwriter!hongjoong

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒔: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: group members, good friends

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!!, unprotected sex

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Stuck in the studio late at night with Hongjoong and who knew, what you were writing in the song would turn into reality...

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: > not counted <

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: as you can see I changed my theme for my blog >.< I hope y'all like it! anyways enjoy this fanfic with Hongjoong

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕]here!

about me, my writings, request rules [𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆]

It was late at night, too late to form a straight thought around all of the work in front of you.

Being in the songwriting position alongside Hongjoong could be a blessing and a curse at the same time. You loved writing songs, putting your all into the lyrics but you hated how long you and him had to stay up sometimes just to find the right words.

Eventually the words came to your minds as you sat there scribbling it down onto a piece of paper and testing out some beats that could fit the vibe of the song. Hongjoong groaned, leaning back into his chair, his hands covering his eyes in exhaustion.

"Shit, it's so late already," he glanced at you, lowering the hands from his face. "Do you want to go to sleep? You must be tired already?"

You smiled at how he looked out for you but shook your head. "No, it's alright. Plus, we both should write the song. I don't want to leave you to it all alone."

He nods approvingly. "Yeah, you're right. But before you collapse please tell me, we can always continue tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, I know, but I'm fine, I'm not that tired." It was sort of a lie to be honest because in fact you were tired already. You turned back to face the paper.

Hongjoong’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips before he turned back to his notebook. The two of you worked in silence, the only sounds being the scratching of pens on paper and the occasional sigh of frustration. The lyrics were shaping up nicely, weaving a tale of forbidden desire and hidden passion.

As the night wore on, the words on the page grew increasingly sensual. The group had agreed earlier on doing a song a little more explicit than usual just to test it out.

Hongjoong’s voice softened as he read aloud a particularly provocative line. “Your touch ignites a fire, burning with forbidden desire…” He trailed off, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. There was something different in his gaze, something darker and more intense.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, the atmosphere in the room shifting palpably. “That’s... perfect,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Hongjoong’s eyes stayed locked on yours, a small smirk forming on his lips. “Yeah? You think so?” He leaned closer, his hand brushing against yours as he reached for a pencil. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Definitely,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. You tried to focus on the paper in front of you, but the proximity of Hongjoong was making it difficult to concentrate. His cologne, a mix of cedarwood and vanilla, was intoxicating.

As the song continued to take shape, the lyrics grew bolder, more explicit. You could feel the tension building between you, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Hongjoong’s touches became more frequent, more deliberate. His fingers would linger on yours a moment too long, his knee would brush against yours under the table.

It was becoming harder to ignore the growing heat between you. Finally, Hongjoong put his pen down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. “I think we’ve got something really special here,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Don’t you think?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yeah, we do.”

Hongjoong’s gaze was intense, his eyes dark with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You know,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, “some of these lyrics... they make me think of you.”

Your breath hitched, the air between you charged with electricity. “Hongjoong...” you whispered, your voice trailing off as he leaned closer

“Tell me if I’m out of line,” he said softly, his lips just inches from yours. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. About us.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and insistent. You melted into the kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The notebook and pens scattered to the floor as Hongjoong lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling his waist.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands roamed over your body, exploring and caressing. You could feel the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against you, sending a thrill of excitement through your body.

Hongjoong’s lips trailed down your neck, sucking and nibbling, leaving a trail of hickeys in his wake. You moaned softly, your hips grinding against him as you sought more friction. His hands slipped under your shirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“God, Y/N,” he groaned, his lips returning to yours in a heated kiss. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

You rocked your hips against him, feeling the heat between you growing. “Show me,” you whispered, your voice breathless.

Hongjoong didn’t need any more encouragement. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you over to the couch in the corner of the studio. He laid you down gently, his body covering yours as he kissed you deeply.

Your hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, shrugging off his shirt and tossing it aside before returning his attention to you. His hands slid under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head.

His lips found your breasts, sucking and licking, drawing soft moans from your lips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your body arching towards him as he continued his ministrations.

“Hongjoong, please,” you gasped, your need for him growing unbearable.

He smiled against your skin, his hands moving to unbutton your jeans. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise.

As he removed the last of your clothing, you could feel the cool air of the studio against your heated skin. Hongjoong’s eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of pure desire. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips capturing yours once more.

His hands and lips explored every inch of you, leaving you breathless and wanting. When he finally positioned himself between your legs, you could hardly stand the anticipation.

You felt his body heat radiating against your own skin, making you feel hot despite the fresh breeze from the air conditioner.

He took his dick into one of his hand, the other one holding your waist down, in a firm grip. His tip grazed your hole, drawing circles around it.

“Are you sure?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Please, Hongjoong.”

He entered you slowly, the sensation overwhelming. You gasped, your nails digging into his back as he began to move. The rhythm he set was slow and deliberate, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss. “You feel so good.”

You could only moan in response, your body arching towards his as the pleasure built. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts.

Your hips lifted away from the soft fabric, which each thrust, only for him to take your sides and press them down. "Come one, doll, stay put."

The sound of your combined moans and the slap of skin filled the room, the intensity of your connection leaving you breathless.

His cock slammed harder into you, burying himself deeper and hitting your gummy spot. "R-right there," you whimpered, grabbing onto his wrists.

As you reached your peak, Hongjoong’s name fell from your lips in a breathless cry. He followed soon after, his body tensing as he found his release.

Your liquids mixed inside you, finding their way around his length and leaking out once he pulled out of you.

The two of you lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Hongjoong’s hand brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with tenderness. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nodded, a smile spreading across your lips. “Yeah, I’m more than okay.”

He chuckled softly, pulling you into his arms. “Good. Because I don’t think I can ever get enough of you.”

You snuggled into his embrace, feeling content and happy. As you lay there in the afterglow, you couldn’t help but think that this night had changed everything.

[hades--baby]

To Die Like This

Summary: Stuck in the Tundra with a bullet in your side, blood in your eye, and the agonizing feeling that your captain was going to throw an absolute fit when your bleeding body walked through the threshold of the safe house.

Note: There's just something about Price being so tender with the girl he loves that makes me go absolutely crazy. Anyway, it's been a long time since I've written anything and an even longer time since I've actually put something out. Hope y'all enjoy :)

(This work was also cross-posted on my ao3 account under hades_baby)

Word Count: 7109

You had always loved the serenity of a snowy forest. 

They were typically peaceful and quiet, a drastic contrast to your usual life of gunfire and warfare. 

The only things that ever really made a sound was the light crunch of snow beneath the thick soles of boots, the little animals scurrying from shrubs to burrows that led to their dens, and the winter birds chirping their little songs as they hopped from branch to branch. 

The air was always so crisp with a light scent of fresh pine and bark. It lacked the smell of gunpowder and the musk that filled the tight barracks. 

Honestly, if you could have it your way, you’d die in a forest like this. 

Have your trauma-ridden life end in a place so ethereal. 

The whole military life never really gave you what you wanted though. 

You typically had to take what you could get.  

The orders you were given weren’t to your liking? 

Too bad, you’d have to follow them anyway. 

The mission you were assigned to was in the middle of the fucking Tundra where you knew your fingers would freeze and you’d never be able to keep warm? 

You’re getting on the damn plane and going anyway because you were told to. 

A lead slugger was shot into your side and you were currently bleeding through your gear and you wanted to do nothing more than lay down in the snow and let the cold take you while the little blood you had left in your system melted the snow beneath your limp body? 

Well, too fucking bad. Get the fuck up because your Captain doesn’t take too kindly to any of his soldiers dying on the job. 

Yeah. 

You didn’t really get your way when it came to being a soldier, but today might have been your lucky day. 

That little snowy death wish that had been playing out in the back of your head for the past thirty minutes was starting to look like it might come true. 

There was a small burning bullet set in your side, a nice little slash on your arm from a bowie knife that had once been stuck in another man’s chest, and there was a cheeky little gash somewhere on your head that was pouring enough blood into your left eye to make you shut it and trek around half blind. 

It felt like you were getting too old for this kind of work. 

Then again, if Price could still keep up with this shit and be chipper doing it, then so could you. 

“What’s your ETA, Frost?”

His voice over your comms had startled you. 

“I don’t fucking know,” you snapped in a breathy tone as you slammed against the side of a pine tree to brace yourself before you could fall flat on your face. The fresh powder beneath you was starting to look really enticing. 

You closed your good eye—the one that hadn’t been flooded with blood—and let out a defeated sigh, dipping your head as you tried to catch your breath and not focus on the stinging sensation of all the wounds that riddled your body. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, apologizing to your Captain for your tone. You glanced at the watch on your wrist to check your current coordinates. “I’m a klick out from the safehouse. I should be there in a bit.”

“Copy.”

Price left it at that. 

He sounded tired. 

It was the same tone he spoke in when he was stuck in his office, getting dragged down into the depths with paperwork and mission reports he didn’t even want to think about. The tone that would come out when someone tried to talk to him too soon after a mission when all he wanted to do was relax and work the knots out of his shoulders. The tone that you heard oh so often when you’d pop into his office to keep him company while he dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s and when you’d work your fingers into the knots and sore spots on his back until he nearly fell asleep in his office chair. 

Fuck. 

You needed to get a move on.

After taking a deep breath, you trekked on, using every other tree to keep yourself upright as you staggered on your tired feet. 

Blood was seeping through all of your gear, some of it dripping into the pristine white powder beneath your feet. It was tragic how the deep crimson liquid stained the gorgeous snow. In your line of work, you had seen blood stain an array of surfaces, but snow seemed to be the worst of them. It was something that was meant to be clean and pure, yet here you were, ruining it. 

A grimace fell over your face at the sight. 

After a few minutes passed by, your legs met the threshold of movement and you slammed into another tree trunk. Your temple met the bark, wood scratching against the skin of your face. You closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath and focus on not passing out while your limbs buzzed in pain. 

You could make it. 

Probably.

All you could really think about was the fact that you were definitely going to be telling Price that you didn’t want to do any more jobs in the Tundra. You enjoyed the cold climate when you weren’t working, which was almost never, but you still had a few days of leave a year where you got to fully relax (if your brain allowed). 

You liked the cold when you could cuddle up next to someone to stay warm, drink some hot cider, and watch stupid Christmas movies that had too many questionable moments that made you really sit and stare, trying to figure out whether or not you should laugh. 

You enjoyed the cold even more when you could hide away in the barracks, keeping warm with Price wrapped around you, hands tracing over your skin, heating you up quicker than a blanket ever could. 

“Frost.”

“Captain.”

He didn’t respond right away, making you wonder if he just wanted to say your callsign for the hell of it. 

“ETA?”

“Couple of minutes,” you answered. 

The eye with blood in it was starting to sting, the foreign liquid now slipping all the way to your jaw and dripping from your chin. 

“Cut it down to a minute.”

Price was starting to catch on that something was wrong. You were taking far too long to get to the safe house from where you had been coming from and your words were becoming too short and strained every time he asked you a question. Something was wrong and it was taking everything in him to not run out of the safehouse in search of you. You’d always been the type to be vocal when something went awry out in the field, so he silently prayed that your absence of issue meant that everything was fine and that you truly were just taking your sweet ass time to get to him. 

“You’re starting to sound like Gaz with all the worrying you’re doing, Pricey,” you teased, adding on the little nickname that you knew peeved him. 

“Shut it and get a damn move on.”

“Yessir.”

You started moving again just as he ordered you to do, finding some sense of motivation after hearing his gruff voice. It was the voice that had welcomed you to the 141 after Laswell had shipped you off to join the task force. The voice that had let you know that you were okay and safe when the boys had finally found you after you had been taken hostage on a mission in your earlier days. The voice that had talked you through every touch that made your body burn as he sunk his fingers into you. 

It was the kind of voice that you’d betray death for. 

A little while later, the safehouse finally came into view. 

You glanced at your watch, checking how much time had passed. 

A minute and twenty-seven seconds.

Price wasn’t going to let you hear the end of it. 

You winced in pain, feeling the skin of your arm pull apart. The soldier that had cut you had grabbed the knife he used from the middle of another man’s chest and you were starting to feel queasy from the thought of your blood mixing with his. You needed to get your gash disinfected soon or you were going to have a problem. Well, technically you already had multiple problems, but you were trying to take on one issue at a time. 

Alright, maybe it was about time you mentioned something to your captain. 

“Hey, Cap’?” you probed as you quietly trudged toward the short porch steps of the cute little cottage. “Is this a bad time to mention that I got hit earlier?”

You failed to mention how badly you were hit.

“What the hell—what do you mean you got hit?”

You stopped a good ten feet from the steps, furrowing your brows. 

There was no sign of Price having entered through the front door. The powder in front of the stairs had been untouched and there weren’t any wet footprints  on the old wood of the porch. The windows were dark and nothing could be seen from the outside. The only thing that gave any sign of someone being inside was the dark smoke slowly wisping from the brick chimney peeking out of the top of the cabin.

“I mean, I got a nice little slugger in my side and some blood pouring out of me in other places,” you said, keeping your voice low and quiet. You wondered if you were in the right place. You looked down at your watch, checking your coordinates. According to the device, you were. “Are you inside?” 

He ignored your question. 

“Where the hell’s your kit?”

“Somewhere in the forest four klicks back.”

You looked around again, hoping to find some sign of this being the right place. 

“Christ, Frost,” Price muttered. You didn’t need to see him to know that he was shaking his head at you. “How far out are you?”

“Right out front,” you answered. 

You gave in. 

The wood creaked under the thick soles of your boots as you trekked up the stairs. You shoved the door open, stumbled inside, and slammed the door shut as you slumped against the wall. You slowly slid down to the floor. The cold began to set into your bones as the distinctive heat from the fireplace on your left radiated around you. 

Price rushed into the room. 

“Well, aren’t you a right-all mess,” he said as he moved toward you.

“Shut up,” you muttered, shaking your head before tilting it back to rest against the wall. You opened your good eye as he knelt down in front of you.

“Where are you broken, love?” he asked as his eyes scanned over you, clocking every little rip and tear in your gear before you could even say anything. 

He hated seeing you like this. 

It had become one of the toughest parts of his job ever since Laswell had sent you his way to recruit to the taskforce. There was just something about you that made his heart ache whenever he saw you in pain in any way.  

He knew that it was all a part of the job. 

That there were always going to be times where he saw you like this; busted and broken.

And he always fucking hated it.

He knew he’d hate it ever since the first time he had seen you like this. It was way back when you had first joined the team. You’d only been with them for a good six months, but you had already gone on about four missions with them. It had been a busy year for the task force, but you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you were eager to keep getting back out on the field every time you got back to base. 

On their fifth mission all together, when they believed that they had the upper hand, you and Soap had been ambushed. The Scot had been knocked unconscious while you were taken captive, too many soldiers for the two of you to take out on your own without any supporting fire. 

Learning that you had been taken was worrisome on its own, but Price’s heart ached when they finally found you. 

He had sunken to his knees in front of you, using his knife to work away the zip ties that had you bound to an uncomfortable looking metal chair. Your face was bruised and bloody. Gashes from knife wounds worked their way down your arms and legs. Burn marks from what looked like cigarettes were ingrained into your plush skin. 

You looked beyond rough. 

Price had felt furious that he had let any of this happen to you, but the fury was quickly overcome with worry when you had perched your eyes open and groaned in pain. He let out a sigh of relief, finally knowing that you were, at the very least, well enough to be conscious. He had tried to soothe you as best he could and when you were finally free of your bounds, you practically fell into his embrace, your entire body slumping against his.

It was that very moment—when he wrapped his arms around you and held the entirety of you—that was when he knew that seeing you like this would always pull deadly wear on his heart. His old heart wouldn’t be able to take seeing you like this and hoped that it would be a rarity for his tiring eyes. 

Much to his surprise, it had been a rare sight. 

But that didn’t mean it was a non-existent sight. 

“Got shot in my right side, bullet’s still somewhere in there from what I can tell. Slash on my right arm from a gross ass knife that was already stuck in someone else before it got to me. And I got hit in the head and I can’t see out of my fucking right eye because of all the goddamn blood,” you explained, lifting one of your hands to try and wipe the blood away from your eye, but to no avail, the metallic liquid kept flowing. There was no use in trying to see right now anyway.

“Let’s get you fixed up then,” he said, a sense of urgency finally filling his voice. 

He had been attempting to keep his cool this entire time; to not panic so you wouldn’t panic either. But he knew that you were much too tired to even start panicking, so perhaps he was just trying to stay calm for his own sake. He found it funny that out of everyone on the task force, he had been the one to deal with more field injuries, yet here he was with his damned nerves buzzing out of his skull. 

Something like this shouldn’t have worried him as much as it did. 

But it was you. 

He couldn’t help himself when it came to you. 

Whatever was going on between the two of you had always left him in the realm of something being completely unspoken. The relationship that had sprouted was in some sort of limbo, but neither of you seemed to mind since it was easier that way. 

It was easier than having to tell the boys that something was going on between you two. It was easier than telling Laswell that there may be some sort of infringement on the team—not that she’d care unless it really started to affect how the two of you went about your work lives. And it was easier than admitting to each other that there might be something more than a quick casual stress-relief fuck. 

The two of you had shared too many moments together for that to be true. 

There were too many night’s of your bodies being pressed together and entwined, skin to skin to keep each other warm. Too many words of comfort as you soothe the nightmares of war away, finding comfort in each other’s arms. Too many gentle kisses for it to not be real. 

Your eyes were closed. 

He didn’t care much for that. 

“Frost,” he said, bumping your arm without a slash in it to jostle you awake. You opened your good eye and looked up at him, sending him a quick look of aggravation. It would’ve been amusing if you weren’t bleeding out before his very eyes. “Need your good eye open so I know you aren’t dying on me, sweetheart.”

You grunted in response, looking away from him but still keeping your eye open. 

The feeling of disquietude was starting to set in. 

It wasn’t normal for you to get hit during missions—it was actually quite rare. Soap was usually the one to take the podium for taking quite a bit of damage out in the field. Regardless of all that, you still knew what to do in such situations. You wouldn’t have been at this level of infantry if you didn’t know what to do. 

The hard part was the fact that you were in the presence of your captain. 

Moments ago, when you were trekking to the safehouse, you knew that you wouldn’t have to do any of this alone because your captain was waiting less than a klick away from you. 

The thought alone made everything feel easier. 

It was always harder doing it all alone. 

You thought back to the first and only time you had applied a tourniquet on yourself. Damn near gave up and bled out from how painful it was to cinch the band as tight as you could to keep yourself from bleeding out. You had spent years in the service of infantry. Years of wear and tear on the body, but that kind of pain was something you never wanted to feel again in your lifetime or in any lifetime. So when you felt your arm begin to fall numb from the lack of blood circulating through your veins, you knew that you had to get to Price before you would be forced to deal with it on your own. 

When he was around, you knew that you’d never have to face anything alone. 

You had learned to find such comfort in that. 

Price felt sick to his stomach as he started to get some of your heavier gear off. Your weapons were first to go, then your holsters, and then your vest. He was almost afraid to remove your thermal to see the damage the thick white jacket was hiding poorly. 

He couldn’t keep his damn head straight. 

Simon had griped with him about it a while back, saying that he needed to do better about keeping a clear head around you, but Price still managed to get work done on missions, so the younger man could never really get on him about it all that much. Simon didn’t know exactly what was going on between you two behind closed doors, but he had enough of an idea seeing how much Price doted on you even when you told him to fuck off and focus on something else for a while. 

It was the playfulness of your jabs that usually gave it away. 

That and the lingering looks you two sent each other as if you were some love sick teenagers. 

Price knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself in the field, but there was always something whispering in the back of his head that had him wearing a deep sense of worry on his sleeve every time he had to send you out on a mission. He had read your file when Laswell had recruited you. You were beyond skilled in almost everything you did and you rarely ever came back to base having to see a medic, so hearing that you had actually been hit—

“I can’t feel my arm.”

“Shite,” Price cursed, snapping out of his thoughts as he snatched his medkit and opened it up to finally help you. 

The cold had finally set in and all the blood that had seeped from your arm was causing your skin to turn pale. The gash on your arm was still wide open, but blood had stopped spilling from it, which meant he could disinfect it and get it closed without anything (hopefully) going wrong. Your side wasn’t doing all that bad, still bleeding, but not bad. He’d probably have to cauterize the wound just to feel like he could leave it be, but that could wait for after he got the bullet out of you. 

“Arm first, then your side,” he decided, nodding his head before he turned back to his kit. He turned back with a bottle in hand and you grimaced at the sight. “Gonna have to feel more broken before you feel fixed.”

“No shit,” you muttered, eyeing the small bottle of alcohol in his hand. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be snappy.”

Price set the bottle down, reached for his belt, and took it off. Something deep in you fluttered, but it stopped when he presented it to your face in a folded mess. 

“Bite down,” he said. You eyed him a little more, making him huff. “Bite down on it, Frost.”

You huffed back at him and bit down on the folded belt. You held it between clenched teeth, watching as he picked the bottle of alcohol back up. He sighed and nodded, almost as if he was telling himself that he was ready to do this. He tipped the bottle and poured the liquid over the wound. You squirmed and held back a writhing scream. He quickly clamped your legs between his knees, keeping you from squirming away. 

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he said, trying to sooth you as he set the bottle down and wiped around the edge of the wound. He grabbed a needle and thread from his kit.

You groaned through the thickness of the belt as he stabbed the needle into your skin, creating even sutures along the wound. Your eyes closed as you tried to not focus on anything specific, but the feeling of Price keeping you in place while he dug a needle kept you from thinking of anything else. 

Price hated this. 

He hated every fucking part of this. 

Digging a needle and thread into your arm while you bit onto a belt. 

He thought back to the last time he had touched you. 

It was the night before the mission that you two were currently on. Price hadn’t expected to see you until the two of you were meant to take off on the tarmac, but he found himself aimlessly wandering the halls of the barracks until he wound up at the door of your private quarters. 

He almost hadn’t knocked. 

It was late, you two had to be up early, and he still didn’t know where the two of you stood when it came to something like this. 

He knew that there was some sort of love there, but he wasn’t too sure about the type. He knew that if he was stressed about all the ridiculous mission reports and papers he had to sign off on late into the night when he should be sleeping instead, you’d be sitting there with him to keep him company. He knew that if he mentioned that something was hurting, you’d use your nimble and calloused fingers to work away the knots and sore spots that came with all the training and missions. He knew that in a moment of weakness, he could count on you to hold the broken pieces of his soul together. 

Everything in his mind told him to leave you alone and let you be for the night, but the Captain was feeling selfish and he rarely ever got to indulge in such things.

His entire life and career, he was meant to be selfless. 

To put everyone else’s needs before his own. 

And ultimately, he had been okay with that… until he met you. 

He found himself tempted to be selfish when it came to you. 

He had knocked and you had answered. 

It was all he needed for the night. 

Maybe for life. 

“Done,” he said, tying off the last stitch and cutting the thread. 

“Thank fuck,” you breathed out, letting the belt drop from your mouth. 

“Still have a few more things to do,” he said, jerking his chin in the direction of your side before glancing at your head. “I’m gonna have to lay you down flat to get the bullet out, alright?”

“M’kay,” you muttered, still feeling hazy. Your nerves were buzzing in all the wrong ways and you just wanted it to stop. 

Price carried you over to the fireplace and laid you out on the floor next to the fire in hopes of warming you up. The flame felt nice against your freezing skin. He worked quickly to strip you of your thermal undershirt. The wound on your side looked small, but the skin around it was stained red with thick blood. 

“Want the belt again?” he asked. You sighed and nodded. He grabbed his belt and folded it up again before placing it back in your mouth. Your teeth dug into the material as you anticipated whatever pain was about to come. “Ready?”

You grunted in response. 

He used a set of dull tweezers to dig into your side, fishing for the little bullet deep in your flesh. You reeled in pain, damn near shooting up on your own, but Price used his free hand to push your chest back down to keep you steady.

“I know, pretty girl, I know,” he tried to soothe, continuing to search for the hunk of lead. You writhed in pain, pressing yourself against the floor as hard as you could as if that would help you escape the pain that was stabbing into it. The ends of the tweezers grazed something hard and he knew that he almost had it. “Almost got it. Almost done.”

After a few moments, he pulled the metal fragment from your body and pulled the tweezers from your aching flesh. You gasped, shaking as you laid limp. Your shoulders slumped against the wood floor as your chest heaved. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you tried to catch your breath. 

“You’re alright,” he said, squeezing your good arm as if that would make everything better. He massaged your bicep for a moment, using it as an excuse to keep his hands on you. He was also trying to calm you down a bit more before he had to move onto the actual hard part. He grimaced and glanced over to the fireplace. “Do you trust me?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, lazily nodding your head as you felt consciousness slipping through your fingers. 

“I need you to close your eyes, sweetheart.”

“Mm-mm,” you said, shaking your head this time around. 

“I need you to trust me on this one, Frost.”

You stared at him for a long while before finally giving in and closing your eyes. You slammed the back of your head against the wood flooring as hard as you could, wishing that the impact had knocked you out because you knew that whatever he was about to do was going to hurt like hell. 

Price had always been the type to make sure that his own were safe and taken care of, but he was also the type to tell his own to buck up and take it. Whenever the boys got injured out in the field, he would always make sure that they were okay, and if they were, he’d tell the lot of them to get back to work then. 

Even with you. 

Every time you had been bruised and battered, if you told him that you were okay, he’d believe you and expect you to be okay and not broken. 

So the fact that he was telling you to close your eyes and to trust him meant that it had to be bad and that scared you.

Price waited for a few moments, making sure that you kept your eyes closed before he proceeded with what he was about to do. He grabbed the hot poker from the fireplace, the one that he had been stoking the fire with before you had made it to the confines of the safehouse and trudged in with all of your broken parts. He took a deep breath, knowing that there was a good chance that he was going to hate this just as much as you. 

“Bite down hard and keep your eyes closed, you hear?” he ordered, heaving one last warning before he pressed the burning poker to your skin. 

You did exactly as he ordered even though you were itching to scream and open your eyes to see what the fuck he was doing, but the smell of your burning flesh was enough to urge you to just squeeze your eyes shut even tighter. 

You were going to pass out. 

Or vomit. 

Or maybe scream at Price for cauterizing your wound without a proper fucking warning. 

Maybe all three. 

You eventually fell limp, no longer having the energy to resist the fiery pain that flooded over your skin. The only part of you that could move was your heaving chest as your lungs begged for some semblance of air. 

Price pulled the poker away, tossing the burning end back into the fire.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” he said, disinfecting the area around the cauterized wound to ensure that everything was thoroughly taken care of. He placed a bandage over it and then gently grasped your shoulders, his thumb massaging circles into your skin. “Gonna get you up now, nice and easy.” 

He slowly pulled you into an upright position, but you haphazardly slumped forward into his arms, forehead hitting his chest. He let your full weight fall against him. You still hadn’t said anything, nor had you opened your eyes. All you could really manage were hard, labored breaths that made your entire body quake. 

His heart hurt. 

Probably not as much as you were hurting, but still, it hurt. 

He couldn’t stand to see you like this. 

Body shaking in his arms, lungs gasping for air, kind eyes hidden behind low lids. 

He wanted to take you from this world. 

To take you from the world of hurt.

The world where you were constantly shot at and put at risk every time a new mission was assigned to the taskforce. 

But he knew that he’d never be able to take you from this world of chaos and pain. You’d surely raise hell the day you truly had to leave the force. You had always said that you’d probably die in the military. He really prayed that you wouldn’t. 

He pulled you into his lap, settling you down comfortably as he grabbed a clean wrap. He propped you up a little more so your head was resting against his shoulder, face tucked you into the crook of his neck. He wrapped your midsection, making sure to keep the bandages snug and clean. 

“Almost done,” he promised in a sweet coo. 

You opened your mouth, finally letting the belt drop to the floor. You hadn’t realized that it was still in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out as he tied the bandages off, running his fingers over the material to make sure it all laid flat and clean. 

“Gonna lay you back down,” he said. 

You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in hopes that he’d understand that you wanted to stay like that in his arms, face tucked away so he couldn’t see you cry. You just needed a moment to collect yourself. Tears pooled in your eyes, the pain setting in even more as the adrenaline started to wear off. He placed one of his hands on your back, gently rubbing circles over your shoulder blades in an attempt to calm you down.

“I’ve got you, Frost,” he muttered, pulling you in closer. Hot tears rushed faster from your eyes, slipping down, and staining his shirt as they dropped from your face. The diluted mix of salt water and blood didn’t bother him much. “Gotta check that head of yours. Clearly you’ve got a screw loose since you thought hiding all of this from me was okay.” 

“Didn’t want to bother,” you muttered hazily in broken fits.

“Helping you ain’t a bother, love,” he said, shaking his head. He slowly pulled you away from him and cupped your face in his rough hands. “How’s the head feeling?” 

“Amazing. Thanks for asking,” you said, letting the weight of your head sink into the salvation of his hands. He kept you up, calloused fingers running over your cheekbones to wipe away the stray tears still slipping from your eyes. The salty water had started to clear the blood from one of your eyes, but it wasn’t enough to fully see. You squeezed your eyes shut even more, leaning into him, and slumping in his hold. 

“Need you awake, soldier,” he said, jostling you around a bit. You opened your good eye, staring into his focused ones. 

There was so much comfort in his gaze. 

Solace. 

Made you feel warm. 

Too warm. 

Your eyes closed as you fell fully limp in his embrace. 

He scrambled to keep you in an upright position. 

“None of that now. Come on, Frost—”

God, you could die listening to that voice. 

You woke with the scent of musk and cigar smoke lingering around you. 

It was a scent that you had grown accustomed to waking up to.

There was a sense of easement that fell over you whenever the scent lingered on your sheets whenever he found an excuse to stay the night in your private quarters back in the barracks. A scent that you found comfort in whenever you woke from a long flight after a rough mission. And a scent you had learned to completely love when you invited him to stay with you for Christmas when the entire task force inevitably left for their week long holiday leave. 

You attempted to take a deep breath to take the comforting scent in, but it was cut short when you felt your skin pull against the stitches in your side.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

You jolted from the sudden presence of the familiar gruff voice, but Price’s arms cinched around you tighter to keep you from falling from his lap and onto the floor. You were comfortably curled up in his lap, his arms around your body. His brows were furrowed, eyes riddled with stress and worry as he stared at you. 

It was the same look that he always gave when he felt like he failed someone. 

Disappointed them. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered.

He stared at you for a little longer before pulling you in to hug you tight. You winced slightly, but were happy nonetheless to be close to the worried captain. You sighed and closed your eyes, letting your face rest in the nape of his neck. The smell of musk and thick cigars filled your system again. 

“You can’t scare me like that again, Frost. I don’t think my old heart could take another fright like that,” he said, shaking his head to nuzzle his face into yours. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of your hair. Even with everything you’d been through, the light scent of your usual shampoo still lingered. “Plus the boys would kill me if I ever came back with you in pieces.”

“They’d live,” you muttered, even though you knew he was right. 

The boys of the 141 would probably wreak havoc if you ever came back from a mission on the brink of death. Though, they’d never blame Price. You knew that much for sure. They’d know that your captain would do anything and everything in his power to get you back in the best shape he could manage. 

You slowly pulled away from him, staying in his lap as you tried to reorientate yourself. You had been stripped down to your base layers, your other gear laid out near the fire to dry the blood and snow that had soaked into the material. He was also down to his base layers, his gear and his silly little hat in a pile on the other side of the room. 

The two of you were comfortably resting on the rundown couch closest to the fireplace, but the sight of the fire brought a memory back to you. 

“I can’t believe you fucking cauterized my wound you bastard—”

“Had to get it shut, sweetheart—”

“And a fire poker was your first and only thought?” 

He grimaced and sat back so he was pressed against the couch cushion. His hands stayed on you, one on your hip and the other on your thigh, fingers tracing gentle circles into your skin. 

“Stitches weren’t gonna cut it,” he said, shaking his head. 

You sighed, knowing he was right. 

“I want a cigarette,” you said, going to slide off his lap in hopes of finding a pack stashed somewhere in the pockets of your gear. He tightened his grip on you, pulling you back into him. 

“Wouldn’t do you any good to have one right now,” he said.

“I want one anyway.”

He sighed and shook his head before grabbing a cigar from the ashtray on the coffee table beside the couch. It wasn’t a cigarette, but it would do. You found it humorous that a safehouse had an ashtray, but knowing the people you worked with, it almost made sense. 

The end of the cigar was already burnt, meaning he had been smoking while you were out in his arms. He placed it in his mouth and grabbed the lighter, burning the end until he was able to take a decent drag. The breath of smoke was held deep in his chest before he slowly blew it out. He made sure to blow the smoke away from your face before holding the cigar out to you. You went to grab it, but he moved his hand just out of your reach. Furrowing your brows, your eyes flicked between him and the cigar. He slowly brought it back to you, but held it right up to your lips. It wasn’t until you wrapped your lips around it did he let it go and the weight of the cigar rested against your lip. 

You took a deep drag, holding it until you felt light headed. You leaned back, only stopping when his hand braced against your lower back to keep you from tipping over. You slowly blew out, letting the smoke wisp above your head. You passed the cigar back to him and he placed it back in his mouth, the tips of his teeth chewing the end a bit. 

It was a nervous habit of his. 

Typically had to swat his thigh to get him to quit. 

He took another drag. 

He tilted his head to the side to blow the smoke away from your face, but before he could, you gently grabbed his face and turned it back to face you. He furrowed his brows in a confused manner, but you slowly leaned forward and he got the idea.

God. 

He could die like this. 

You sitting in his lap, a cigar in hand, and you begging for something that he could only think to do with someone he loved. 

All he was missing was a glass of whiskey to top it all off. 

He cupped your face and urged you closer, but stopped before your lips could touch. You were tempted to lean forward and close the distance, but you stopped yourself. Your mouth was slightly ajar, wondering if he’d actually go through with it.

He did. 

He kissed you hard and blew the smoke right into your mouth. Heat filled your system as you slowly leaned back and exhaled, letting smoke wisp away between the two of you. 

“Fuckin’ minx,” he muttered before taking another drag with a smirk on his face. “Even on the brink of fucking death.”

“You love it,” you teased. He huffed out a gruff laugh. “I’m sorry for almost dying.”

“Don’t let it happen again,” he said. “Boys would kill me in a jealous rage if they found out you died in my lap like this.”

“As if,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“You don’t see the way those boys look at you, love,” he said, shaking his head. 

“Yeah? And how about the way you look at me?” you wondered. 

His gaze met yours and you didn’t dare pull away. 

“Just like this,” he said, his lids low as his eyes flicked down to your lips and then back to your eyes. 

The fingers that had once been drawing circles into your skin had stopped, the pads of them pressing into your plush thighs instead. He had a good grip on you. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to go anywhere. 

You could stay like this forever. 

“You gonna keep looking at me like that or are you gonna do something about it?” you asked, wondering how far he’d actually go while the two of you were on a mission. 

Then again, you two were technically done with the mission and you were just waiting for evac so… no harm, no foul. 

He let out a light laugh before bringing a hand up to your face and pulling you in until his lips pressed against yours. You leaned into him, your front pressed against his own. You moved your legs until you straddled him, wincing once from the pain in your side. He pulled back, pressing a hand down to where your wound was, looking over the bandaged area. 

“I’m alright,” you assured him. You cupped his face in your hands and slowly tilted it back up until he was looking at you again. “I’m alright, John.”

He kissed you again, resting his hands on your hips with a light squeeze.

“Evac won’t be here for another six hours,” you said, having caught a glance at the watch on his wrist. “Care to kill some time?” 

“Oh, I’d love to.”

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (Epilogue)

ー☆ Epilogue

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: suggestive language, cursing, smut ー☆ Word count: 8.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: mature ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: I chose no song for this chapter, so everyone is free to listen to whatever or not listen to anything at all, however, while doing the moodboard I was listening to Power and I actually started sobbing, so uh, you can give it a listen if you wish to! I won't yap here, so see you at the end of the chapter! <3 I hope you enjoy, and as always, let me know what y'all thought of the last chapter of my beloved series. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red

@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng

@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf

@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss

@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

3 months later

            Spring was finally approaching, the weather having turned less harsh and warmer in the span of a few weeks, slowly painting nature in its vibrant and gorgeous colors that I would never get enough of. And we were lucky the air was warmer now outside, because in the confines of the limited space of my little studio of my Arts Club at university—which is more of a storage room to be fair—the smell of fresh dye and incense mingled together almost in a nauseating way, leaving me no option but to crack open the small window of the studio. Well, since it was so high up, I had to ask Mingi to open it as I didn’t want to get on a chair as I would have had to walk to the front of the room, and I was too lazy to do that. Music played quietly in the corner from Mingi’s portable speaker as he hummed along the melody of the song, typing away on his phone as his shoulders were slouched over, head lowered.

My eyebrows were furrowed in concentration as I bit my tongue, making sure the dye spread out evenly at the back of Mingi’s head, not wanting to leave spots of his previously platinum blonde hair. Around a week ago, he and Seonghwa hung out under the pretense of watching movies and having a boys' night in which they would drink beer and maybe compose some music, however, the next day when Mingi came over to have lunch with my mother and me, his hair was short. The long strands that curled prettily against his nape and ears were gone, replaced by short spikey hair that stuck up against his head, giving him a punkish look. My mother had squealed when she saw him, touched his hair, and then cradled his cheeks, gushing about how handsome he was, making me glare at the two as they forgot about my existence. Instead, I went and set the table and left them to their usual gossiping, shaking my head when my mother told him all about the new hot doctor at work she had her eyes on.

At times, those two would get lost in their own world and forget about my existence, amusing me, but also prompting me to give them a side-eye. Don’t get me wrong, I was beyond the moon that my boyfriend and mother got along really well, but at times it almost felt like I didn’t even exist—and before you would be like Mingi and say that I am dramatic, the fact that my mother seemed to love Yunho just as much as Mingi, definitely sent me into an existential crisis after the first time she confessed she loved the two as if they were her own sons. And about Yunho, well, yes, we’ve worked out our differences—which involved a lot of explaining, invoking buried memories, and a lot of apologies from Yunho’s side—so now we were all a big happy family—family as in not to be misunderstood, we all loved each other and had a nice bond. To be honest, I felt no mal-intent towards Yunho when after a month of dating Mingi we finally decided to sit down and discuss everything with his best friend, and I even found myself now confiding in him and asking him for advice in areas Seulgi—and Wooyoung—couldn’t help, because, after all, Yunho knew Mingi best. And Yunho’s girlfriend was an absolute angel and sweetheart, I took a liking to her quite quickly and found her love for literature rather adorable as she’d often quote her favorite characters from her favorite books.

Mingi snickered as I playfully pushed his head forward as I was done dyeing his platinum hair to a regular, darker, blonde with pink hues in it. I tried to look over his shoulder to see what he found so amusing but he cradled his phone to his chest and made me roll my eyes as I walked to the sink to wash the small bowl and the brush I used to dye his hair. Mingi changed the music to something more upbeat and a lot noisier than the music he, Wooyoung, and Seonghwa made, and I came to realize the speaker was playing Limp Bizkit. I couldn’t say that I enjoyed their music too much, I preferred something more indie, but I still appreciated some of their songs. I turned on the faucet and started washing the brush first as Mingi approached me and leaned against the counter, lips pursed as he tried to hide his cheeky smile. I threw him a questioning look as I rinsed the bowl out, applying a little soap in it to wash out the dye completely as Mingi finally spoke up, “Check this out, ‘Your face is a work of art, my legs should frame it.’”

My eyebrows furrowed as I gave Mingi a confused look, quickly making him pout, “Oh, come on! It’s ‘art rizz’!”

I snorted as I placed the bowl and brush aside to dry, peeling the gloves off my hands carefully to not stain my clothes or skin, “You’ve had better ones Mings, besides, shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I mean,” Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed as he pocketed his phone in his light pink jeans, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He wore a white loose sleeveless tank top today, his biceps bulged from the action and I tried not to let my eyes linger on the well-defined muscles, “I definitely like the idea you’re suggesting—”

“As if we haven’t done that already.” I interrupted with a pointed look and Mingi just rolled his eyes.

“That’s beside the point,” And then he was smirking, leaning into my space as I rinsed the soap off my hands, “wait, are you suggesting something right now?”

“I just dyed your hair, Mingi, no, I’m not suggesting anything.” I sighed, unimpressed, as I shut the faucet off and grabbed a small towel to dry my hands off in it. You see, Mingi is rather…vocal with his needs and quick in executing them, so, I cannot say we haven’t been… active, if you know what I mean.

“Pity.” Mingi pouted for a second before he moved on to the next subject, his brain sometimes moving too fast for me to be able to keep up with him, “You remember that well-dressed woman from our last gig at Outlaw?”

“I sure do, she looked rather out of place with her pencil skirt and blouse.” I hummed as I leaned my hip against the sink, facing Mingi. He grinned and then fished his phone out of his pocket again and unlocked it, clicking on something I couldn’t see. Then, he cleared his throat and raised it to a higher pitch that was definitely mocking the woman’s voice.

“Mr. Song, I am delighted to let you know that Horizon Records would love to work with Noir Zenith, and we’d like to set an appointment as soon as it fits you and your bandmates' schedule. – Hong J.” Mingi bit his bottom lip as my eyes widened, prompting me to hold onto his wrist in excitement.

“Wait,” I said, eyebrows lightly furrowing, “isn’t this that super famous and huge record everyone dreams of getting signed to?!”

And when Mingi’s smile grew into a hug grin, I felt joy and excitement fill my senses as I grabbed both of Mingi’s hands, jumping up and down as he giggled and followed along, the two of us jumping in small circles like little kids. I couldn’t believe my ears, this was even bigger than the last record they agreed to sign with for half a year—the one Hongjoong helped out with—and once their contract was over, they could sign a new one with Horizon Records.

“That’s fucking amazing, Mingi!” I exclaimed loudly as we finally stopped jumping around, my heart beating fast as Mingi nodded in excitement, his teeth visible as he couldn’t stop smiling.

“I know, Wooyoung started running laps while screaming and Seonghwa cried clinging to me for half an hour when I told them.” I chuckled at the image in my head, but quickly realized the message wasn’t fresh. Before I could go off on him for hiding something so important from me, Mingi beat me to it, a knowing glint in his eyes, “Mrs. Hong sent the text yesterday afternoon and I only didn’t tell you about it because I knew we’d meet today and I wanted to see your reaction, so, don’t be mad, please.”

And how could I be mad at him when his plump lips were jutting out and his eyebrows raised in a manner that made him look adorable and heartbreaking at the same time? I huffed and squeezed his hands before I released them, trying to play off the fact that he already knew me so well, “I wasn’t about to get mad, I’m very happy for you and the rest of the boys, my love.”

Mingi giggled and looked away, the high of his cheekbones slightly flushed, and I grinned because I could never get over the fact that calling him ‘love’ or ‘my love’ turned him into a giggling and blushing mess. It was adorable, cute, and somehow still sexy, and before I would let any stray thoughts enter my head and distract me from the plans we had, I cleared my throat, “We should eat that pizza we ordered, it’s probably already gone cold.”

Mingi hummed but didn’t speak up as I went to walk towards the white sheet we had laid on the floorboards to sit on, pizza, black nail polish, Mingi’s pink beanie, and my sketchbook scattered all over it. However, before I could take another step, my feet suddenly weren’t touching the ground anymore as I was lifted by the waist, a squeal leaving my lips as I clutched onto Mingi’s bare arms, “Mingi! Put me down!”

“No.” He giggled against my neck and I felt his warm lips press a small kiss against my nape as my hair was in a bun, then he was running towards the sheet as we both laughed, the song playing through the speaker drowned out by our loudness. He finally placed me back down on my feet when we reached the white sheet and I sat down in a crisscross position, opening the box of pizza as Mingi took his seat across me. I grinned as I grabbed a slice, my stomach growling in hunger once again, and then I took a bite of the cheesy pepperoni pizza, making Mingi chuckle as he looked less hungry and less eager to devour our lunch for today. I extended my hand for his phone and he gave it to me without a word, I typed in his password before I looked through his playlist, taking bites of my pizza in the meantime. I found a slower beat that I liked and switched the currently playing song to that and then handed his phone back after I locked it, smiling as Mingi was flipping through my newest sketchbook which had mostly drawings of him.

I didn’t expect him to flip to that particular page and I almost choked as the pizza went down a little array, making Mingi smirk as he pulled the drawing closer to himself, dark eyes inspecting his sleeping form in the drawing. Well, the drawing looked completely innocent unless you knew what happened before it, and I couldn’t help but blush harder when Mingi bit his lower lip, pizza in his hand forgotten as he traced the blanket that hung low on his naked hips, torso on display and face serene as he had been in a deep slumber. When he looked up, he didn’t look much too smug, but there was a glint in his eyes that I had become accustomed to too well. He was in awe, but he was turned on, and I couldn’t help but stuff my face more with pizza, satiating my hunger as a means of distraction from the fact that I drew Mingi post-sex not even four days ago.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a talented songwriter and composer but a good hell of a painter.” His voice was deeper as he mumbled, taking a bite of his pizza as he glanced back down at the drawing, “I want to draw you too, to capture you in all forms and commemorate you for an eternity.”

Well, what a way to make me blush harder. I grabbed another slice as I had finished the first one as a means to stall for a second, ponder over my answer, “You’re good with your words though, unlike me. I always struggle to express myself concisely, yet to you it’s easy. You create beautiful lyrics and you never fail to capture my true nature in your songs, so I think I’ll always live on in your music, Mingi, you have already commemorated me for an eternity.”

That made Mingi blink in surprise as he hadn’t even realized that before, and I smiled as he gave me a lasting look before he flipped the page, the drawing of him playing with a kitten I had found outside my porch. Now, she was our kitten and she, obviously, loved Mingi more than me—just like my mother, I didn’t try to complain about this too, “You inspire me like none other.”

“You inspire me too, Mings.” Mingi’s smile was shy as he continued flipping through the sketchbook, less filled than my other ones as I decided to dedicate this one only to him. He’d seen the older sketches plenty of times before, yet he never failed to become shy when looking through them.

I finished my slice of pizza, dusted my hands off and made sure my cheeks weren’t greasy as I leaned towards the black nail polish, shaking it in front of Mingi with a grin, “Ready to get your nails painted?”

He nodded excitedly and handed me his left hand as he still held his slice of pizza in the right one. His thick fingers were smooth and decorated with rings, much like mine, and I flipped my left hand around to place his palm in mine. After having arrived at my humble studio once we were finished with our classes for the day, Mingi got to work and painted my nails. He had bought some new nail polish a week ago and convinced me to surprise me with them, so, the nails on my left hand were now almost neon green and the nails on my right hand almost Barbie pink. Sometime along, painting each other’s nails became a habit, something we both enjoyed doing and now we could confidently call it our thing.

I concentrated hard to not smudge the skin around his nails, eyebrows furrowed and teeth clamping down on my bottom lip as Mingi’s eyes were either on me or his nails, bobbing his head along to the rhythm of the song playing. He usually chewed loudly and I was thankful he kept his mouth closed this time, knowing that it would only irritate me if he started chewing on his slice of pizza aggressively—it wouldn’t be the first time he does it just to annoy me. As I finished doing his middle finger, his phone rang and Mingi reached over to his left side as he bit on the crust of his pizza, picking his phone off the floor as the music cut off. He accepted the phone call and put it on speaker as I chuckled and watched him take out the crust from his mouth so that he could talk.

“Hey! Song Mingi!” It was unmistakably Wooyoung’s voice as he screamed into the phone, making me concerned that Mingi would lose his hearing if he had just normally picked up the phone without putting it on speaker, “What’s up, bro?!”

Mingi snickered, shaking his head as I finished painting the nails on his left hand, “I told you yesterday that I would hang out with Y/N after classes.”

“Ah, right,” Wooyoung hummed as I leaned down to press a kiss against Mingi’s hand, making him grin as he finished his slice, eagerly handing over his right hand to paint his nails, “And where are you two lovebirds?”

“In her studio,” Mingi answered as I got to work, careful as always as I painted his pinkie’s nail.

“Now that you mention, Seulgi said something about not being able to work on her assignment in the studio because of you two.”

I scoffed and before Mingi could answer, I spoke up as I leaned towards the phone, “I told Seulgi to do her assignment not two days before the deadline, and I also told her a week ago that I’d be hounding the studio with Mingi today.”

“Heard that babe?!” Wooyoung’s voice was distant just for a second, then he snickered, “She says you’re lucky she loves you, otherwise she would’ve kicked you out of your studio.”

“My own studio.” I huffed and applied another coat over Mingi’s forefinger’s nail to even out the texture, “What a bitch.”

“A bitch that is forced to listen to her best friend’s constant bitching, who’s the bitch now, Y/N?” Everyone snickered and I rolled my eyes as there was the unmistakable sound of a kiss pressed against a cheek through the phone, Mingi and I shared a look of mild disgust as I went to paint his thumb’s nail.

“Don’t start making out while you’re on the phone with me, Wooyoung.” Mingi’s voice carried disgust but there was a hint of amusement, “Anyways, what’s the purpose of your call? You never call unless you need something or I ask you to remind me of something.”

“It’s neither this time,” Seulgi chuckled through the phone, and then there was shuffling and I knew she walked away. I finished Mingi’s nails and closed the bottle of nail polish, sitting up on my knees to kiss Mingi’s cheek as he bit his lower lip, grinning at me as he wriggled his fingers happily.

“Do not be late to Aurora’s opening tonight and wear something extra fancy, Hongjoong will have our heads if we don’t honor his fiancé for God’s sake.” Wooyoung sounded mildly annoyed but it was no secret that he loved Hongjoong probably almost as much as he loved all of his friends, however, he’d never admit that to anyone. Aurora became the name of Seonghwa’s studio and small gallery, and tonight was the grand opening. Everyone was excited about it, with Seonghwa being a nerve wreck as he feared people wouldn’t show up. After having talked to both him and Hongjoong, they agreed to display a few of my paintings in the front lobby and I was giddy and curious about everyone’s reaction to them. Nobody knew what I had handed over to Seonghwa, and he had beamed when his eyes took in the paintings, he getting emotional instead of me and making me chuckle as I hugged him tightly and thanked him for the opportunity.

“You should worry about yourself, Woo,” Mingi teased with a chuckle, “Y/N and I will look impeccable, as always.”

“That is for sure,” I muttered as I sat back on my ankles, watching Mingi with a grin as we had decided to match our outfits for the night.

“Talk to you later, we’ve got some business to attend to with Y/N now.” And then Wooyoung said his goodbye and they hung up as Mingi pointed towards the pizza with a pout, “I’m still hungry, will you feed me?”

And even if I said no and rolled my eyes, five minutes later Mingi had a teasing glint in his eyes as I fed him his third slice of pizza, smart enough to remain silent or else I wouldn’t have continued feeding him or helping him drink water while his nails dried.

            Barely an hour later, when Mingi’s hunger and thirst were satiated and his nails were dry, we replaced the white sheet with a huge flat canvas that we would paint over. We had agreed on painting a scenery, something similar to the creek we so much liked to visit when the weather allowed it, but sometime along my attempts at making it look like the actual creek, Mingi’s not so painter skills came into the mix and created a—whatever that did not look like the creek. He refused to admit that what was supposed to be the water now looked like the sky, making the whole painting look like it was upside down from our standpoint, and he also kept on vehemently denying that he tried to paint a dick over the trunk of the tree I spent at least fifteen minutes on to make it look as realistic as possible. All in all, I concluded that without Mingi here I would’ve been able to finish the painting in a maximum of three hours, however, now there was no future for finding a vision in whatever we have created.

But I didn’t mind, because this was Mingi’s and my work, something we created together while laughing and talking about whatever came to our minds, the atmosphere light and joyful. I had also washed out the dye from his hair and we towel-dried it, making it look spikier than usual. I couldn’t lie, this new hair made Mingi look incredibly hot, and it took me some willpower to not jump him as he looked at me with those sharp eyes and a knowing smirk, the asshole.

“But you’ll dye it back to black soon, right?” I asked while painting clouds over the once creek turned sky now. Mingi was behind me, crouched down, and his clothes still somehow miraculously not stained. I wore my old overall knowing that I’d stain myself the second I opened a can of paint, and I wasn’t wrong at all as the edges of my pants were already stained green and white.

“I mean, do you hate this color?” Mingi asked from behind me as he dipped his brush into black, terrifying me of whatever he had in mind to do with the color once I saw him.

“What the hell do you need black for?!” I exclaimed as I grabbed his wrist, making his eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

“Aren’t artists supposed to just go with the flow?” His lips jutted out as he playfully leaned closer, my eyebrows furrowing as I was ready to oppose his idea, “You’re making me question your working etiquette, doll, I don’t find you creative enough—”

“As if!” I exclaimed only mildly offended as I knew Mingi was only teasing me, “Going with the flow and trusting your instincts is one thing, love, but having no vision or idea in mind is plain terrifying.”

“I was going to sign the top of it, but never mind—”

“Fine,” I groaned, gripping his wrist to stop Mingi from twisting away. His voice was whiney and he was pouting, not even looking at me as if he was offended. I knew he wasn’t; he was just acting up to get what he wanted. And unfortunately, it was working embarrassingly well on me, “Sign it.”

“Great!” He beamed as he leaned forward, mindful of staining his pink jeans with paint and I sighed as I shook my head, making curved lines before I colored them to make them look more like clouds. I had no idea what would become of the painting, but I certainly was eager to find out.

“Back to your hair,” I spoke up as Mingi carefully drew his ‘fix on’ signature onto the canvas, “I don’t hate the blonde but I miss your natural color, it suits you more, makes you look cuter and softer.”

“Aw,” Mingi turned back to give me puppy eyes—which he learned from Yunho, no doubt, “you like your boyfriend to be all soft and cute? I thought you like it when I get all wild and destroy—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Song Mingi.” I threatened as I sat back, brush pointed threateningly towards Mingi.

“Or what?” His crooked teeth showed as he grinned, quirking an eyebrow to annoy me further. I huffed and tried to think of a good comeback, but came up empty-handed for once so I gave him a pointed glare.

“I’ll stain you with paint.”

“Bet.”

“Bet.”

And I know Mingi didn’t expect me to actually follow through with my childish threat, but as I jerked my wrist in his direction, the remaining paint from my brush flew off and, well, stained his white sleeveless tank top. Mingi’s mouth fell open as he gaped down at himself, and I laughed, giving him a smug look.

“What, did you think I was fucking around?”

“Oh, I’ll make you wish you never did that!”

And before I could prepare myself for whatever attack he had planned, he pressed his hand against his brush and coated it in black paint then sprung towards me, making me gasp as his thick fingers drew a cold line against my cheekbone. Mingi grinned as I stared at him in surprise, but I reacted soon quickly as I pressed my fingers into the fresh paint on the canvas and returned the favor, the only difference being that I drew a circle on his forehead with white paint. Mingi blinked once, then twice, and a mischievous grin spread onto his lips which told me that I was in trouble.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, but Mingi was fast as he dug his whole hand in green paint and slapped my ass painfully hard, making me cry out as it stung even through the fabric, making me give him a deadly glare, “Song Mingi! That fucking hurt!”

“You’re a pussy.” He stuck his tongue out and I tsked, leaning down to push my whole hand inside the red paint. Mingi’s eyes widened as I gave him a victorious smirk, eyes narrowing as he jumped up to his feet, holding his arms up in defeat.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start a war—” But his futile attempts at saving his ass fell on deaf ears as I cackled and took off towards him, making him yelp as he tried to duck and run away, making us run around the canvas. We were both barefoot and as Mingi tried to jump over the canvas, he miscalculated where his long legs would land and landed on his freshly painted signature, making him yelp again as it was no doubt cold against his feet. I laughed as I easily caught up with him and felt up his chest, biting my lower lip as Mingi’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no, your white shirt is all stained now.” I fake pouted as Mingi froze, incredulous eyes looking between me and his shirt. I chuckled and clapped my hands together, deciding that my job was done here, but then Mingi was stepping back and leaving foot marks all over the canvas on purpose. I scoffed but didn’t care much, the poor painting had been long ruined. I crossed my arms in front of my chest in defiance as he dipped both of his hands in pink paint and then gave me a grin as he beckoned me over with a finger. I huffed in disbelief as if I’d hand myself over willingly to him. And he knew that because I dipped both of my hands in light blue paint and faced him again. Our stare-off was intense and calculating as we both tried to guess the other’s next step, and thinking I’d have the upper hand, I stepped in the middle of the canvas just as Mingi moved too and I raised my hands to dirty his tank top even more when he cupped my cheeks and made me squeal.

The paint felt cold against my skin and I knew it would dry it out once it started drying itself, but I was far too amused to worry about something so insignificant right now. Wanting revenge, I grasped his hair and massaged my hands well into the freshly dyed darker blonde strands, making his hair look like cotton candy due to the pink hue mixing with the light blue of the paint.

“My hair! Y/N!” Mingi whined loudly slapping my hands away, but I wasn’t finished as I dirtied his jaw, neck, and tank top too. Mingi was pouting hard and glaring at me at the same time, already sharp eyes turning sharper and full of revenge as he flushed his body against mine and cupped my ass over the fabric, gripping tightly and kneading the flesh.

“Mingi!” I exclaimed, content with being so close to him, but also annoyed that he kept going for my ass, “Leave my ass alone, you idiot!”

“You ruined my hair!”

“I told you to dye it black and not a different shade of blonde.”

“I thought you were a firm believer in people doing whatever they want.”

“I am, but you’re my boyfriend and I find you hotter with black hair.”

“Well, you’re my girlfriend and I find you hotter with my dick down your throat.”

We both paused as my eyes widened and Mingi caught himself a second later, cheeks flushing as he looked sheepish, finally releasing my ass as his hands settled around my hips instead, “Oopsie, that went too far but it’s the truth—”

He cried out as I whacked him over the head, giving him a fierce look, “Yeah? I also find you hotter gagged around my fingers—”

“We only did that once!”

“Are you afraid it makes you less masculine?”

“I agreed to let you peg me, bro.”

“I know, bro, and you fucking enjoyed it.”

“So, what’s the issue here?”

“That you keep slapping and kneading my ass, leave it alone.”

“Okay, princess, my bad.”

“You’re the princess, Mingi, not me. You’re always whining.”

“And you’re always beating me up, Y/N.”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, you are!”

I scowled at Mingi and pushed him back by the chest, by no means aggressively or harshly, but his dramatic ass pretended to stumble and then he fell back, splaying out across the canvas. I huffed and pinched the bridge off my nose as he made fake crying noises, blinking up at me slowly, “See? I’m huwt.”

I closed my eyes to compose myself and control the need to kick him in the balls for being cringy, “Don’t talk like that, oh, my God.”

“Do you hate it?” He grinned evilly as I walked off the canvas, and to look at me, he turned onto his stomach as he cupped his chin and raised his legs to swing them in the air. He looked like a mess with the paint all over his hair, face, and body, some having gotten onto his pants too now that he was laying on the canvas. I chuckled and shook my head as I eyed my boyfriend, knowing that I looked probably just as messy as him.

“I do, actually, you’re only cute when you’re not trying to be cute.” I deadpanned and Mingi huffed dramatically, letting his arms fall as he pressed his forehead against them. Eyes falling on his round ass, I knew it was my time for payback, and I moved swiftly before he could realize what I was aiming for—it wouldn’t be the first time��so I quickly kneeled next to him and leaned down, baring my teeth as I opened my mouth wide. At first, Mingi jumped when my teeth made contact with his jeans and then when I bit down hard, he yelped, soon turning into loud cries as I continued to bite his left ass cheek harder and harder. He started flailing around and I pulled back with a cackle after I made sure my teeth had sunken in deep enough. But, I had no time to react as he quickly turned around and leaped onto me, landing on top of me as I fell back onto the canvas, no doubt smudging even more whatever paint hadn’t dried yet.

Mingi got on top of me, sitting on my hips as he crossed his arms in front of his chest, pinning me to the floor. I smirked as I raised my eyebrows tauntingly at him, watching his eyes slowly rake over my body to take me in.

“That hurt.”

“Fair enough, it hurt too when you slapped my ass.”

“Well, you have no right to whine so much about it anymore.”

“I do if you keep slapping it, and I also have the right to bite your ass as revenge.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed and I giggled as he slowly leaned down, placing his hands on both sides of my head to prop himself up, effectively caging me between himself and the floor. I continued looking at him challengingly as he bit his bottom lip, eyes never settling as they searched my face for even a fraction that showed that I would back down. But I wouldn’t, and he knew that by now as he suddenly smirked too, leaning so close our lips brushed against each other.

“I think I won, doll.”

“I didn’t know we were in a contest, love.”

And then he sealed his lips against mine, shutting up the both of us in the most effective way as our lips moved slowly, savoring each other’s taste and lips. Mingi shifted above me and I eagerly opened my legs to let him settle between them as I hugged his torso, hands raking up and down his back slowly as his hips pressed firmly against mine. I smirked against Mingi’s lips when his breath hitched in the back of his throat due to my fingers tangling into his short strands now a little crusty from the red paint in it, it was no secret that Mingi liked it when I pulled on his hair. He cupped my chin with one hand as he pressed his weight on his left arm, the only cue I needed to open up my mouth to grant him access. We both sighed in contentment as his tongue slowly glided against mine, my legs coming up around his hips to lock Mingi’s body against mine.

Mingi moaned when I tangled my fingers just a little harder into his hair, letting him lap at my tongue as he explored my mouth, my body growing hotter as the seconds passed by, hands slipping under his loose tank top to feel up his warm skin. The skin of his back was smooth and I pressed my nails into it as I slowly racked it up his back, feeling Mingi shiver against my body as he jerked his hips forward, making me hum against his mouth as he pulled my bottom lip between his teeth and clamped down on it, sucking hard. I groaned and dug my nails into his shoulders, pulling my head back to be able to lean up and press kisses against his lean neck, his cologne mixing with the paint that was smeared all over us. My lips were hot as I parted them to press wet kisses against his flesh, sucking in the areas I knew Mingi was sensitive to, making him groan and jerk his hips forward again. With a hand slipping down to his hips, I gripped him firmly and prompted him to grind against me, Mingi’s head buried in my hair as I continued to press kisses until I reached his collarbones, gripping the hem of his tank top. He wasted no second as he pulled back just slightly, slipping the fabric off his torso, leaving it bare for me as I grinned at him, feeling his chest and abs up as he worked at the clips of my overall.

I kissed the skin between his pectorals and then pressed up on my elbows as Mingi made quick work of slipping the overall down to my waist and ultimately out of them as goosebumps covered the bare skin of my legs. We threw the overalls off to the side and Mingi was then moving back, down between my legs as he hovered above my thighs, eyes boring into mine as he pressed a feather-like kiss against my left thigh. I gulped and fisted my palms as heat pooled in my lower stomach, his lips always featherlight as he advanced higher up on my thighs with nips and kisses, sometimes licking at the skin teasingly. I knew my cheeks were flushed as I felt hotter by the minute and I shuddered when his lips pressed against my core through the fabric of my panties, making the breath hitch in the back of my throat. Mingi smirked and did it once again before he licked a slow strip upward, closing his eyes to hum, and I let my fingers tangle in his hair as he tapped my inner thigh, moving away from where I wanted him most.

He sat back to undo the buttons and zipper of his jeans, and I watched in anticipation as he slipped the fabric off his thick thighs and ass slowly, in a teasing manner, bottom lip between his teeth as he was half hard already, eyes hooded once he was done with his half-assed striptease. I chuckled and he was all over me again, hips flushed against mine again as I wrapped my legs around his hips, eager to feel his heavy body press me down into the floor. Mingi’s fingers gingerly traveled from my waist up to the hem of my blouse and then he brought it over my head and arms, landing in the pile of clothes to the side. And then his lips were over mine again, licking into my mouth and biting my lip messily as he slowly ground his hips against mine, making me hold onto him as it was easy to feel him in just our underwear. One of my hands went to tease at the elastic of his boxers and, despite him talking shit about it, I knew he liked it when I kneaded his ass, the skin sensitive for him there.

Mingi moaned and ground just a little harder against me, making me burn for him more as he cupped one of my boobs through the bra, pinching the bud as our tongues moved messily without much purpose or goal, too focused on how our bodies felt with the ministrations done to it. As he pressed himself up on his elbow, the hand that grabbed my boob traveled lower on my body until it was inside my panties and rubbing circles against my clit, making me moan out his name loudly, his length grinding up against my thigh as he bit my collarbone, making me screw my eyes shut as I was throbbing for him. But he was a little shit and he only teased, rubbing but never quite letting his fingers slip inside as he chuckled against my ear, making me grit my teeth at him as I gripped his wrist to keep him pressing against my clit as my hips kicked off the floor.

“You’re wet, doll.”

“And you’re not doing enough, love.”

Mingi chuckled again and I moaned as he teasingly slipped just the tip of his finger inside, his rings cold against my burning skin, my nails digging into the flesh of his ass. Mingi groaned and pulled back, making me groan in frustration as I glared at him, but he quickly silenced me with his lips as I felt him pull down my panties, I shimmied my hips to help him get over with it faster. He grinned and nipped at my bottom lip as I pushed his boxers off too, grabbing his dick to teasingly rub at his slit, making him hiss against my lips as our eyes fluttered open.

“What? Only you can tease?” Mingi’s eyes were dark and narrowed as he bucked against my hand, my pace awfully slow in jerking him off, “I could tell you to get off me and I would go on with my merry day—”

“Sure,” Mingi grinned, lips ghosting against my ear as his voice had dropped lower than usual, grabbing my wrist to stop my movements, “but you love my dick too much to pass up on it.”

I scoffed but said nothing, perhaps a little too desperate to have it inside me finally. I hated it when he teased me too much, and because Mingi knew this, he never passed up on the opportunity to get on my nerves even when we were having sex. He enjoyed it perhaps a little bit too much. But the teasing was finally over as he had gotten enough of it, eager to push in as he lined himself up with my entrance, pressing a kiss against my lips.

“I don’t have a condom.” He whispered, eyes searching mine.

“Just pull out, I’m fine.” I circled his shoulders, embracing myself as my core throbbed, eager to have his size expand my walls. Mingi hummed and then pressed another kiss against my lips as he slowly pushed inside, having to take it slow as he didn’t stretch me out with his fingers first, the burn insistent despite our active sex life. I still haven’t gotten used to it, but I didn’t mind as it only made me wetter for him, more eager to take him. Mingi’s bottom lip was between his teeth as he kept his breath labored, concentrating on not hurting me and taking it slow until I said so. I let my fingers run through his hair as I sighed, trying to relax my muscles and just melt into his arms, pressing a kiss against his cheek when he paused abruptly, shuddering.

“You’re so tight,” His voice was barely above a whisper and strained, “I’m about to burst.”

“So soon?” I asked with a chuckle, teasing as it earned me a sharp glare, “And whose fault it is I’m so tight? Your fingers are there for a reason.”

“Shut up.” Mingi groaned and then pressed in fully, a gasp leaving my throat at the sudden move, eyebrows scrunching up as he pressed in deep, making me feel fuller than before. My walls clamped down against his dick and Mingi pressed his forehead against mine as I embraced him, letting my fingers tangle in the short hair against his nape. I nodded, eyes boring into each other, and then Mingi was moving, slowly at first, pulling out only halfway before he was pressing back in, sighs leaving my lips as the pleasure was slowly building up, my hips moving in an attempt to meet his thrusts.

He secured his knees better against the canvas and pressed up on his elbows, hovering over me as his cross necklace dangled in my face, and the image was way too good and hot, knocking a moan out of me as he started thrusting faster, hips slamming back against mine as our pace got faster and more urgent, our breathy moans falling against each other’s lips as I nipped on Mingi’s bottom lip. I hooked a finger against the silver chain as his nose scrunched up, hips slamming back against mine with more purpose, more power, and eagerness as he looked down between our bodies, a grunt leaving his lips as he enjoyed the view. I hooked my legs tighter around his hips and prompted him to move faster, most of my moans were swallowed as we had to remember that we were at university still, in my own studio, so we couldn’t be too vocal. The walls here weren’t soundproof like in Mingi’s studio, yet staying quiet proved to become harder and harder as Mingi started pistoning his hips, grunts turned into low moans as he slammed his lips against mine, our breaths getting swallowed as our teeth knocked together, saliva gathering in the corner of our mouths as I pressed my hands against the small of his back, my own arching off the floor for an even better angle, keening his name when he finally reached the spot that had me seeing stars.

But Mingi was a diligent man who took his time in everything he did, even sex, and if he could prolong our orgasms, then he certainly would, so I had no doubt we’d be at it for a while, subsequently making us late to Aurora’s opening. And we couldn’t have that happening, but our brains were too fogged up and busy with something else to notice Wooyoung’s insistent texts on Mingi’s phone or my mother’s call to remind me I had to be home in fifteen minutes to start getting ready. Oh, well.

            Turns out, we got there just in time and nobody screamed our ears off—I’m looking at you Wooyoung—and Seonghwa was certainly overwhelmed when he saw the number of people that showed up for the opening. It was a mix of all age groups and people who knew Seonghwa and Hongjoong from different places, like Hongjoong’s employees or Seonghwa’s colleagues from his major, and there were even more fans of Zenith Noir that showed up, surprising all three of the guys. Seulgi and I stood to the side with grins on our faces as their fans swarmed them and gushed about the beautiful designs Seonghwa had displayed, some put behind glass to protect the expensive material Hongjoong’s team had worked on, and some even put out to be tried on and bought if someone desired to do so.

Seonghwa’s speech had been an emotional one in which he thanked everyone for their support and Hongjoong for believing in him and offering him opportunities he thought were real only in a far-fetched dream, and then I got teary-eyed when Seonghwa’s family surprised him with cake and hugs and praises, making me extremely happy for being able to chase his dreams. The matching rings Hongjoong and he had on their ring finger were eye-catching to those who didn’t know about their engagement, and it was Hongjoong who proudly announced it to the whole room while Seonghwa flushed and tried not to hide behind Hongjoong despite being taller than his fiancé. It was a sight to behold and I wasn’t surprised to feel Mingi cuddle up into my side and sniff loudly as he watched his friends with a proud smile on his lips, Wooyoung amusingly quiet for once.

When everyone was done appreciating Seonghwa’s efforts and creations, he announced with a cheeky smile that the next time anyone visited, the front lobby would be decorated by other artists’ works, but because I had a special request, tonight my works were displayed in the room adjacent to this. I felt my heart in my throat as Seonghwa led us towards the dark room, then our eyes met and I nodded with a small smile, biting my bottom lip as the light switch was flipped on, coating the room in light. I turned to look at Mingi in anticipation as his eyes widened, and he broke free of the crowd, hurrying inside to take in the entirety of the room, from being incredulous to teary-eyed and then looking like the happiest man on Earth, I couldn’t help it but let my heart swell in happiness and pride as I watched him chuckle and look at me with eyes filled with pure and honest love.

The soft sage green walls were decorated with two portraits of Mingi I had sketched out right at the beginning when I had met him, when I wasn’t so familiar with all of his features yet. Then it progressed to the moments I had captivated as our relationship slowly progressed into that of friendship, us sitting in his car, Mingi driving, Mingi laughing at making me flustered, Mingi’s sharp eyes watching me in a faceless crowd, Mingi up on stage shining like the star he is, Mingi gazing at me with yearning in his eyes, Mingi hugging me warmly into his chest, Mingi chewing on his bottom lip in concentration as he sat in his chair in his studio, working on his music, Mingi looking upset because I rudely disregarded everything that’s happened between us, Mingi angry because I was too stubborn to admit my feelings for him, too afraid to move on from Yunho, and at last, Mingi smiling so widely his eyes disappeared, nose scrunched up and his front teeth showing a little more than usual, pure happiness painting his face.

There was a low murmur amongst the crowd as everyone took in the sketches, drawings, and paintings, but I was only focused on Mingi and his reaction to seeing the stages of our relationship displayed through my eyes, my feelings, and my thoughts. And then, more towards the end of the exposition, there was an old sketch of Yunho I had done while still mulling over the failure of our relationship, and right next to it was a painting of both Yunho and Mingi as they sat next to each other, laughing about whatever was funny at that moment. I had captured the moment when Mingi, me, Yunho, and his girlfriend had gone out for dinner, and then I decided I wanted to paint it twice and gift it to Mingi and Yunho for Christmas. I suppose Mingi would get his sooner than Yunho, I’m sure neither would mind.

Seonghwa announced that I was the artist behind the creations and the room erupted in cheers and claps as people complimented me on my talent, but my eyes were on Mingi only as his blazer was glittery underneath the white light, matching my floor-length glittery black dress. He opened his arms and I didn’t waste any more seconds to approach him and let him crush me in his arms, his embrace warm and reassuring as he pressed his face into my hair, exhaling loudly as I embraced him back just as tightly, closing my eyes as my heart was racing. These past three months I spent next to him had been the best time of my life ever, he made me happier and feel safer than anyone else ever. He helped me get better at controlling my explosive emotions and he helped me slowly break down the walls I so defensively built up after Yunho’s departure. He made me unafraid to love and to receive love, he made me want to spend the rest of my life with him.

I wanted a forever with him.

“I love you, Mingi.” And it was the first time I voiced those thoughts, voice clear but quiet so that only he’d hear it. I felt Mingi freeze, a gasp leaving his mouth as he pulled back, holding me at arm's length as I smiled at him softly, “I love you.”

Mingi gulped as his eyes suddenly turned teary, and he cupped my cheeks as he lowered his head to press his forehead against mine, inhaling deeply as he nodded his head. He’d said those three words to me before, unafraid and unashamed to let me know how he truly felt towards me, and I finally found the courage to say it back. I finally was ready to let him know just how much I felt for him, that I loved him just as much as he loved me.

“I love you, Y/N, so much.” His voice trembled and he kept his eyes closed out of fear of having the tears escape them, and I hummed, resting my hands on his shoulders as I gently rubbed the skin of his neck in an attempt to soothe him.

“I love you just as much, Mingi.”

And he smiled, pressing his warm lips against mine with the unspoken promise that this would last forever, that this was what we both had been searching for. Safety, contentment, honesty, friendship, and freedom, a love that was honest and unafraid. It seemed like our future was rather promising, next to him, I could take on anything. We won’t forget to look at the moon tonight.

I love you, Song Mingi.

A/N: So, hello once again, I am so-so grateful if you made it 'til the end. I cannot believe I'm actually finished with this story and it's a really bittersweet feeling actually, because I am as happy as sad, no joke I kinda cried a little bit. I absolutely love the character and personality I have created for Mingi in this story and I love MC and his dynamic so much, that I find it so freaking hard to let go of them omg, what's happening to me?!

I just really really want to thank everyone who stuck around from start to finish, or from the middle of the story, or showed up as we neared the end of it, I am so so grateful to you all for being patient with me and showering me with love and making me look forward to posting. I was always so excited about a new chapter because I wanted it to be the best, and when I felt like it wasn't, you reassured me that it was and it made me really happy.

I started this story nine months ago, back on the 15th of December, which is funnily enough my sister's birthday so now I will never forget the date I posted it lol, and I find it so freaking crazy that this whole story came from a random brainstorming with my best friend in my car (@orshii), right as we finished our classes at university, brains fried off and ready to end everything, and yet, here I am, trying not to cry again ffs because of how much I grew to love every character in the story.

A little insight: the story at first started out as a random plot that was somewhat similar to 10 Things I Hate About You (which is one of my favorite movies) as Mingi was inspired by Patrick's character and our MC by Kat's, but as time went on, the story and our characters became their own and thus this is how Love Me Like A Rockstar was created. Back at that time I was also obsessed with this song, which played a part in the story becoming a rockstar!au beside Mingi acting like a whole ass rockstar during Crazy Form era lol, and even the title is inspired by the censored version of the song.

I think I made this note already too long, so I'll try to wrap it up. I really want to thank absolutely everyone who reads the whole story, to my loyal readers who were here for every chapter and for all of your thoughts and theories and for making me smile, really. Those who stumbled upon this when it's already finished, I hope you enjoyed each chapter and had fun exploring the world I created (this applies to those too who stuck around while it was still on-going) and I always appreciate your feedback, it's never too late! Thank you everyone, and I hope to see you back for my other stories! <3

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[artists-ally]

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien Vanssera

You all can go and blame @thelov3lybookworm for the swarm of Lucien content y'all are gonna get from me. This is probably one of the saddest things I've ever written and it took me wwaayy back to a very shitty relationship I was in so if it seem extra personal it is 💀 Enjoy, title from this song!

Word Count: 3,108

Warnings: ANGST (just for you @bubybubsters) mentions of murder (in relation to Jesminda)

Summary: Lucine has been so focused on trying to win over Elain that he's never once stopped to consider that you're the one who's always been there for him.

~~~~~

The door slammed. A breath sighed from the entryway. I went stiff. 

“I don’t understand,” Lucien shouted. I could hear him kicking off his boots, hanging his jacket up on the rack by the door. “I thought we were finally making some progress and then nothing. Absolutely nothing today.”

I remained silent, swiping off the stuck scallions on my knife. “Sorry.”

“I mean, I get that she needs time to adjust, but Cauldron, Yn. It’s been nearly a year since the war ended. I’ve been patient, more than patient, and it’s like I’ve never made an effort.”

“Told you it was a bad idea.”

“What is it about me that she cannot stand? What does Azriel offer her that I don’t? He walks in the room and she lights up. What do I have to do to get her to look at me like that?” I just shrugged, moving to the sink to wash some sprouts and potatoes. Lucien was caught in this never ending cycle of trying to win over Elain. For the past year, almost year and a half, he has been torturing himself with something that obviously won’t be. 

“Do you think she’d enjoy it if I took her to the Summer Court? Maybe she’d enjoy a trip to Dawn?” Lucien sat at my kitchen table, tapping his heel on my hardwood floor with his arms crossed over his chest. “We did actually talk for a while today. She ended up telling me her plans for her fall garden.”

“Sounds nice.”

“But I just wish she would open up a little more. Every time we talk it’s like I have to pry it out of her.” “Mhmm.”

“It makes me so nervous when she closes up like this. I can’t imagine what is going through her head. She won’t tell me. She won’t tell anyone, which is concerning. I just wish she would at least tell someone about what is going on. I’d even be okay if she told Azriel.”

“Yeah.”

“If only she would just reach out. Even an inch, just tug on the bond and acknowledge that it’s there. It wouldn’t bother me as much if she would just give us a chance.”

Lucien continued to blabber again, droning on and on about how Elain won’t do this or talk about that. I tuned him out, biting back the sting of jealousy in my throat. That familiar prickle in my nose forced me to grip the spoon harder. 

He never listened to me anymore. He’d come and ask me for advice, to see what my opinion was on what he should do, and then blatantly do the opposite. But every time he came back, I’d give him more. Just like he was stuck in a loop with Elain, I was just as guilty of the same with him. 

I was the one who had found him on the border after his Jesminda was murdered. I had been there to help him get settled, to get revenge on his brothers who forced him to watch. For decades I have been doing the same thing he has for Elain. 

The only difference is I know how to take a hint. Luciene doesn’t. 

“... and then when I asked if she would join me for a walk, she refused. I mean, she knows how important it is to get outside every now and then. She had said she wanted to garden and plant new seedlings for the upcoming winter but… I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“Yeah I bet that’s tough.”

“Tough?” So he did know how to acknowledge the things I said. “It’s excruciating. You have no idea. Have you been listening to anything I’ve been saying?”

It took all the strength inside me to not hurl this knife at his head. “What’s the point anymore?”

“What?” “You don’t listen to anything I say anymore anyways, so why bother?” I snorted, shaking my head. “I could’ve announced my pregnancy right now and you would’ve been too lost in thought about her to even register.”

“You’re pregnant?” 

I slammed my knife down on the counter and whipped to face him. “No, I’m not. But if I was, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why? We’re best friends, Yn. Don’t you think I’d wanna know if you were-”

“That is not the point of the conversation, Lucien,” I snapped. He just stared at me, waiting for an elaboration. I just sighed, “Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” “Did something happen today? You’re clearly in a bad mood.” “No. Absolutely nothing happened. Only that I had the grand opening of my restaurant today and you were nowhere to be found. You were with Elain.”

Lucien went silent. I could feel the energy shift from across the room. “Cauldron boil me… Yn I am so sorry. I thought that was next week, why didn’t you remind me yesterday?”

“I did,” I said. “I reminded you yesterday before you went up to the House to be with Elain. And the day before, and the day before that.”

“I think I would’ve remembered if-”

“Would you?” The tears were coming. Fast. It was a struggle to keep them from spilling over. “Because every time I’ve said anything, you’re talking about her. It’s always fucking her.”

“Why are you talking about Elain like that? What did she do to you?”

I just stopped moving. Stopped breathing. Stopped thinking. The chill that spread through my bones should’ve been enough to kill me. I ground my teeth together hard enough to crack. “Ever since we came to this gods damned Court all you have talked about is her. It’s like I’m not even here anymore.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Lucien stood up. 

“When was the last time you asked how I was doing? If the designs for the menus are finished? If I’ve picked out new tiles for my bathing room or if I’ve finally finished that collage I was working on? How long has it been since we’ve been out together or gone diving in the Sidra? For fucks sake Lucien it’s like I’m best friends with a ghost.”

All Lucien offered was a turn of his palms, lips parting to answer but no words came out.

“Exactly. You can’t even remember. Any time we talk it’s always about her. It’s always Elain this and Elain that. I’m fucking sick of it, Lucien. You’re constantly asking for advice on what to do with her, but have you ever stopped and thought about what you’re doing?”

“Every day it haunts me that I can’t reach her, Yn,” Lucien's brows knit together. “I come to you because I value your advice.”

“Well you can stop. I don’t have any more to give. Now, you can either change the topic or get the fuck out because I’m sick of hearing about her. Today was supposed to be my day. I don’t ever ask you for anything, and this is the one thing I wanted. And you were supposed to be there for me, your friend, your best friend. But of course, the female who won’t give you the time of day has to take priority over someone you’ve known for almost a century.” 

“Are you so selfish that you can’t be happy for me for finding a mate after so many years? Are you that jealous that I’ve decided to spend some of my time with anyone else?”

Blinding red rage coursed through me. I let everything I had been holding back for months seep through. “How dare you say that to me.”

“Yn-”

“If you interrupt me I swear to the Mother that I will break your fucking neck.” I watched him swallow his response. “If you think I am unhappy with your bond then you don’t know me at all. I want nothing more than for you to be happy, Lucien. But I would be lying if I said it didn’t make me sick to my stomach.”

“Elain is sweet. Nurturing and caring,” Lucien pointed out. "What's so bad about that?"

“Does she know anything about you?”

 “We’ve… talked about some things.”

“So does she know about your brothers?” His face paled. “Does she know about all the fights you got in with Tamlin? Does she know about Jesminda or how many years it took you to be able to hear her name and not burst into tears at the first syllable?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I think it’s perfectly fair, Lucien,” I shouted. My skin was blisteringly hot. All control was quickly crumbling. “The moment Elain came along, you forgot all about me. I am the only living being that has been there with you through everything. Through the destruction of the Spring Court, through Hybern. You begged me to come with you to Velaris, I gave up everything for you.”

“You wanted to leave, too. Don’t put all this on me,” Lucien said, waving his arms in the air. 

“I did it because of you. How dense are you, Lucien? How blind are you to not see that every decision I have made since I met you has been for your well being?”

“I never asked that of you.”

“No, you didn’t. Because you’ve never once considered that I would do it without a second thought. I care about you. I was the one you wept to every time Elain rejected you, and yet, every single time you ran right back to her. I don’t know what you see in her. I think she has made it incredibly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about us.” Lucien’s eyes went dark, his mouth pressed in a flat line, nostrils flared. 

I scoffed. A harsh, bitter laugh falling from my lips. “Did you seriously just say that to me? All I do is listen to you complain about her and how she doesn’t open up. About how closed off she is. For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, you had the balls to come here after opening day, after blowing me off, to talk about her. Want some advice? Take a nice long look in the mirror.”

“Why can you just not accept the fact that I might want to have a relationship with her? Why can’t you be happy for me?”

“Because what does she have that I don’t? What is it about her that you could possibly like more than me? Cauldron damn me, Lucien, we live together. I cook for you every day, we have breakfast and tea together.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucien furrows his brows together.

I could feel my heart start to splinter into however many pieces to double the amount of stars in the sky. All the love and contained affection I’ve had since I met Lucien has washed away in a moment. All those heart to hearts, all those late nights spent atop the House of Wind… all for nothing.

“You’re right,” I nodded, letting several tears run down my cheeks. “It means nothing. I have no reason to be mad at you for simply wanting to find love.”

Lucien sighed, a heavy, grueling noise. “Yn-”

“You know, everyone from back home kept saying that I was making a mistake, that I shouldn’t run off here with you. I think they’re right. This was all a mistake. I should’ve left you to rot on the side of the border.”

Color flushed his face and neck. Silence cursed us and I could only hear my occasional sniffle and the rapid beating of my heart. 

“Tell me this, Lucien. Do her eyes look better when they shine?”

“What? Yn why are you-”

“Does she look prettier when she cries? Am I just too much to handle or-or too emotionally unstable?”

“You’re not too much, Yn. You’re perfect the way you are,” he shook his head, taking my hands in his. I rip them away.

“Then gods dammit Lucien, what is it about her that you love so much more than me?” I screamed.

He is stunned and silent. His mouth opens and closes. No words are coming out. My chest feels like it’s going to cave in any second. 

“Yn… what are you talking about? Are you in love with me?” That flicker deep within my chest erupts into a thousand colors. I bite my lips to keep from crying out. “You are… aren’t you?”

I just shake my head. “I asked you a question first.”

“No, you can’t do this to me, that's not fair.”

“Who gives a fuck what is fair, Lucien? You have discarded me to the side like I was nothing. Did you forget that I was the one who sacrificed her life for you? What has Elain done for you? Nothing. She has done nothing but distract you from the important things in your life.”

“Like you?” Lucien said with an equal amount of venom in his voice. “You are so selfish.”

“You want me to admit it?” I snarled, my face inches from his. “Fine, I’m jealous. I am so jealous that you look at her like she hung the moon and at me like I mean nothing to you. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing you happy with her, wishing and praying to every god that it was me.”

Lucien just stands still. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Yn.”

“That you love me too!” I shout, pacing around. “You’re telling me that Elain, someone who refuses to give you anything but a cold shoulder, is going to get all the love and affection I so treacherously built back into you after Jesminda? Did you ever stop and think for one moment that there could be you and I? Tell me how the fuck that makes sense.”

“Yes, you took care of me, and I will be eternally grateful for what you’ve done for me. I can’t ever repay you for giving life back to me. But I can’t… I can’t force myself to love you, Yn. I just can’t.”

My body felt like it was on fire. And not the kind of blaze I got when I looked into his eyes. It felt like the bond I had carefully hidden for years was finally unbraiding inside my soul. But when my eyes did meet his… nothing. No burst of excitement or sense of relief. 

I felt utterly nothing as I looked at the man that has been in every single moment of my life for the past sixty years. 

“Please say something,” Lucien begged. 

I couldn’t. Not with this world obliterating feeling inside my chest. I could only stare at the floor. 

“Yn… Yn please don’t let this ruin what we have.”

“It was ruined the moment you walked in that door.” My voice was meek. 

I could see Lucien shake his head, but his features became a blurry whirlwind behind my tears. “Yn I’m begging you I’ll-”

“Get out.”

“No,” Lucien's voice cracked. “No, I'm not going to leave.” He came and grabbed my shoulders, trying to make me look at him.

“Leave, right now, or I’ll get someone who will.” I'll call for Azriel. That will really make his skin blister. He instantly let go. “I want all traces of you gone by tomorrow night.”

“You can’t do this to me. To us.”

“It’s clear you’ve made your decision on where your priorities lie. I refuse to be second place to you anymore.”

“You have never been second place to me, Yn. Never. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t valued. But I can’t love you. I’m not in love with you.”

“And that is why you have to go. Take care Lucien, I hope she was worth it.”

I don’t bother to show him to the door. He knows where it is. I don’t offer him any other farewells. He doesn’t deserve my good luck. Instead I return to my pots and pans, staring painfully at them. I have no choice but to force him away.

It might just kill me, this ache in my body. It might just engulf me and swallow me into the earth, back to wherever I came from and give me another shot. Hopefully the next one I’ll actually get what I deserve. 

As I stare at the meal before me, it’s like I’m looking at a fresh batch of pure despair. It brings me nothing but painful reminders of years ago back in the Spring Court. Where it was just the two of us. There was no Night Court, there was no emissary duty, there was no Feyre or Nesta or Elain. 

Just me and my Lucien. 

And now there was just me. 

I have to do something. Distantly I hear the door click shut, it’s groan signaling Lucien’s vacancy. As hard as I can, I throw a wooden spoon towards it. It’s gratifying, but it doesn’t dull the ancient pain inside. I throw another. And another. And another. Until there are no more wooden spoons left, and they have been fated to splinters. 

I began to throw away the food I was preparing. A pot full of potato and cheese soup goes first. The lamb in the oven goes next. Then the sweet cherry pie next to it. I stash away the cups and silverware, nearly shattering them in the process.

This was supposed to be a celebration. Of all the hard work I have put into my restaurant over the last several years. It was opening night, the line was a mile long. Even Rhys and Feyre were there to congratulate me.

But not the one person I wanted most. 

This dinner. This fucking dinner. It was his favorite. Though I suppose it still is. Something I made him when he was upset. But instead of settling my stomach, it made it wretch.

I should send the recipe to Elain, but change one ingredient. Replace the chives with cilantro. He hates cilantro. I know so much about him, he knows so much about me. 

Why… just why couldn’t it have worked?

I’ll never get to see him smile again. Or cry. I’ll never get to hear his laugh. Or braid his hair when he’s sick. I’ll never get to feel his arms around me or hear the sound of him coming in the door. If I’m not gone when he gets all his stuff tomorrow, I just might ask him to stay. 

I deserve better. Someone who will look at me like I’ve hung the moon. Who will pursue me the way Lucien pursues Elain. I deserve unconditional. 

I wish I could still deserve him.

~~~~~~~~~

Part 2

[bettyfrommars]

I need to know what you think about finding a dark siren Eddie Munson. Maybe he got hurt and washed up on the shore? You’re immediately his mate and he loves you very much even though he’s never been near a human. Very much I hate everyone but you vibes for our bloodthirsty friend.

Boyfriend From the Deep

darkSiren!Eddie x Reader

darkSiren!Eddie art here and here

Blurb 1

Blurb 2

18+ONLY, smut, some monsterfuqqing, mention of gore, mention of throwing up, visit from Murray & Hopper, mention of reader's life not going well, AFAB Reader, love at first sight, soulmates, merman!Eddie. wc: 3k

A/N: Another request I was really excited to sink my teeth into. My hope is to continue this eventually, taking inspiration from the 1984 film Splash. Looking forward to what y'all think of darkSiren!Eddie, thank you for indulging me.

---------

Eddie choked and coughed as the wave crashed over him, forcing his eyes open with a gargled gasp.  He was pinned up against a rocky ledge, half of his body on the sand and the other half in the frigid water.  All of a sudden, he felt sick, and began retching clear bile into the sea.  He didn’t like breathing the air, he wasn’t used to it, and it caught in his throat like a feather–tickling—until he coughed and retched again.  The gills on the sides of his neck sputtered, flapping open like vents, drying out, trying to conform to the new way of breathing.

It was then that he became aware of the dull ache at the back of his head, and with trembling fingers, he reached back to test the spot with a cringe and a hiss.  He checked to find that his fingertips were bloody; he must’ve knocked his head on one of the sharp rocks during the transformation.  How badly was he wounded? Would be a shame to survive the journey to human form only to die on the beach and rot like a bloated fish.  

He braced his hand, fingers digging into the sand, and flicked his hips to swish his tail to get him unstuck, but then two legs kicked out from his hips, stuck in a fisherman’s net, and it startled him, making him slam his head into the rock again.  He winced, eyes squeezing shut, whimpering a bit at the sting of the impact as the saltwater splashed up to his knees and misted his face.  

This was Eddie’s first time back to land in over a decade.  Mostly because he loathed humans.  He loved to lure them to their deaths, he loved to watch from under the water as their ships sank so that he could feed on their fear, curling the sound waves of their screams into his belly like sweet nectar. 

He twisted, trying to be free of the rough ropes that cut into his skin, but he was weak, and he wasn’t sure how much blood he’d lost.  He was stuck there now, for 7 days and 7 nights, and he thought maybe he’d just find a way to stay hidden…

….until he saw you.

It was rare for you to be up at the crack of dawn, unless it was due to the fact that you hadn’t slept at all, which was a regular occurrence.  Long, restful sleeps that lasted hours were just a myth to you, ever since you’d watched your life go down the toilet.  A breakup, a death in the family, getting fired from your job; all of it happened all at once, and you were still reeling, teetering at the edge of the abyss.

You were all alone in the world, but for your dog, Louie, and the modest cottage you were renting for a week off the Oregon coast.  The beach house was tucked back in the woods, and it didn’t even have a TV, so flipping it on to watch the early morning broadcast or some cartoons to relax your brain was not an option. The radio would have to do, and the first song that came on when you flipped the dial was Brandy by Looking Glass.  You hummed along to it as you plucked Louie’s leash off the sofa and attached it to his collar.  He was a medium, handsome, mixed-breed boy that you’d rescued from the side of the road as a puppy.  Part corgi, part border collie, part…dalmatian? You weren’t entirely sure.  

“He came on a summer's day

Bringin' gifts from far away

But he made it clear he couldn't stay

No harbor was his home

The sailor said, ‘Brandy, you're a fine girl 

What a good wife you would be 

But my life, my love, and my lady is the sea”

It was exceptionally chilly for an August morning, making you bundle in a hoodie and boots for the trek out to the beach.  Louie was practically foaming at the mouth to get out there for his run, and since your area of the beach was fairly secluded at that time of morning, you unhooked his leash where the dirt path met with the sand, and he bolted into the fog toward the ocean like a shot.  There was a wet mist lingering in the air, like salty, seaweed-scented kisses that made you squint against the bright gray hues turning blue with the rise of the sun.  A few seagulls squawked and swooshed overhead, diving down to perch on a large piece of driftwood, and you waved to them, as if they’d showed up just to say hello to you.

You faced the vast expanse of ocean and crashing waves with a mix of awe and defiance, challenging it silently with a lift of your chin.  Your reverie was rudely interrupted by Louie’s alarm bark, somewhere deep in the mist. 

You followed the sound, walking blind until you caught sight of the jutting rocks at the base of a cliff, and the shrill of Louie’s distress signal was getting further away.  Your feet picked up speed, stumbling for purchase in the soft, wet ground as you called for him, a bit of panic stroking your heart.  Why did it feel like you were about to start crying? An avalanche of unfelt emotions gathered in your throat as you called for your loyal companion.  

But there he was, finally, sitting facing the rocks, tail wagging side to side, making a fan-shape in the sand, basically ignoring you as you collapsed to one knee, cursing, clutching your chest.  

You mumbled a whole conversation to him as you snapped the leash back in place and got to your feet.  You tried to guide him in the other direction, but Louie was transfixed on something a few yards ahead, and it took your eyes a moment to adjust—but then you saw it.  A hand, slightly webbed between the fingers, appeared from around the black rock, digging into the sand, and then another hand gripped the tan earth further along, as if someone were trying to pull themself along by their arm strength alone.  The wrists were covered in jewelry that looked like they were made of shell and bone; the forearms tattooed in dotted, swirling black ink patterns.  

You were too stunned to scream, mouth hanging agape.  You urged Louie back to shield him with your legs.  You saw the long, dark hair next, pooling over bare, tattooed shoulders; it was messy and unkempt, littered in bits of fauna and a few empty clam shells, one side matted with blood.  

Before your brain could throw the alarm that this might be dangerous, you were already speaking.  “A-are you alright? Do you need me to get help?”

That was when his head snapped up, and wide, all-white eyes regarded you with malice, lips curling back to expose a mouth full of pointed teeth.  He growled at you, and Louie growled back, but then, after a second, the monster's face softened.  The milk white eyes behind tendrils of hair shifted to brown, human irises, and he cocked his head a few times at you, as if trying to understand what you had just said.

You should have fainted.

You should have turned and run screaming in the other direction.

But, for some reason, neither one of those even occurred to you.  

You came around to get a better look at him, down along where the water lapped at your boots, and took in the rest of his body; he was tangled up in a crude net from the waist down.  He wore a necklace that appeared to be made of intricate fish bones and coral, and shark tooth earring dangled from his ear.  The tattoo patterns ran all along his chest, stomach, and legs.  You released Louie’s leash, and he sat right where he was told, while you crouched down to meet Eddie’s curious gaze that never strayed from you.

“Will you let me help you?” You asked.

Eddie was in love.

He never believed the stories he’d been told about the imprinting and immediate bonding that happened when you met your mate.  He wasn’t just any Merman, he was a Siren, and as a soldier of the dark forces of the sea, he figured he didn’t have time for frivolous things like romance.

But this took no time at all.

You were meant to be his, and he didn’t care who he had to kill to keep you.  

He studied your face as you worked to free the wet knot of seaweed tangles on the net, freeing his thighs from the heavyweight, gasping and averting your eyes at the way your touch made his cock twitch and swell.  You helped him to sit up, noticing what appeared to be gills on his throat and sides along his ribs.  His flesh was similar to that of a human, but also not.  It had a thick, rippled texture, like the belly of a snake, and it seemed to glow with a soft blue fluorescence.  His muscles were tight and lean, and he didn’t even bother to shiver as a cold wind made your teeth chatter. 

You told him your name as another seagull cawed overhead, and asked what you should call him.  

His eyebrows clenched together, tilting his head a few times, watching your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you speak English?”  You asked it in a cringe way, with a loud voice, as if a higher volume could break any language barrier.  

He brought his webbed hand up to touch your face, and you jerked away at first, but then you let his scaled knuckles graze your cheek, the legs of your jeans soaking wet now as you knelt there with what could only be described as a figment of your imagination. 

He spoke a word in foreign language, his voice a deep whisper.  You remembered how solid white his eyes had been before when he thought you were a threat, but now they were honey brown, almost cat-like in nature as they softly adored you. 

“I-I don’t understand,” you breathed, unable to comprehend the time it took for his mouth to find yours, to plant wholesome kisses, to taste you.

You might’ve been in love with him at that moment too, but your jaded heart refused to let yourself believe it.  

You did, however, feel the arousal blossom at your core as his tongue fluttered against yours, whimpering with a little click in his throat like a sea lion at the way you returned his kiss.

The urge to mate you, to officially make you his, was too strong for Eddie to take into regard any of the formalities of courtship.  Once your hand found his generous girth and began to stroke, encouragingly, that was all it took.

You skittered backwards up onto the semi-dry sand, unzipping your jeans and pushing them down to your ankles as you went, and Eddie followed, bracing himself on top so he wouldn’t crush you, desperate to find your mouth again. His powerful hips bucked against you, and you held him by the neck, begging for more while he spoke to you in that foreign tongue, staring into your eyes, willing you to understand him.  

Wanting you to know that no one would ever love you as much as he did; that he would be your one and only mate until the darkness took you both.  

The position felt awkward, but there was no time to take your boots off as your hole clenched the air, desperate to be filled.  You spun around to get on your hands and knees, and Eddie buried his cock in your wet heat with one swish of his muscular thighs, throwing his head back in a bark of triumph.  

You pushed back against him, needing him to move, to stretch you and own you with each push, your fingers clawing into the sand as you whined.  

Nearby, Louie cocked his head and tried to lift one floppy ear, but then he turned his face to the sea, trying to give you some privacy.

You’d never been fucked by someone as strong as this sea monster, and your whole body jerked and vibrated under the impact of his deep thrusts.  “Yesyesyes…oh fuck!”

It wasn’t long before Eddie clapped his pelvis flush to your ass and spilled inside of you, chanting foreign words, tilting his head to the sky, worshiping you with his offering.  He stayed locked there for a while, working his seed deeper with every stroke.  When he was done, he flipped you over with a feral urgency that sent sand into your eyes and nose, but you didn’t care, because now his mouth was on you.  

Your fingers sank into his matted hair, and that was when you felt the viscous patch and remembered he was bleeding.  His big, strong legs were a bit wobbly, and the thought occurred to you, for whatever reason, that he wasn’t accustomed to using them.  

But then Louie was barking in the other direction, and you both turned your attention to see a figure appearing from out of the mist.   A middle-aged man in a pageboy cap and a trench coat; he was already too close before you knew he was there, and he dropped the walking stick in his hand, his face frozen in shock and terror.  

Eddie smelled the foul human approaching and the familiar bloodlust roared in his veins. The fin on Eddie’s back bristled as he rose to a crouch with a ferocious growl.  You shuffled as far as you could against the rock, trying to pull your jeans up and cover yourself, not sure what to think of Eddie’s reaction.

Eddie bared his mouth full of sharp teeth in a sneer at the man, his eyes going completely white again.  A storm seemed to hit the beach all of a sudden at Eddie’s command, dropping down a gust of wind that rocked the waves and sent the man stumbling off his feet as if the world tilted on its axis, trying to hold his hat on against the force of it.  A low, rumbling wail came from somewhere deep in Eddie’s chest as you tried to shield your face from the whips of sand stabbing like tiny daggers in your flesh.  Eddie appeared to be sucking the life out of the man from his distance; the human’s body lifted up in the air and bent back.  You thought you heard something crack.  

It was only a matter of seconds before the man crumpled to the ground, unresponsive, and then Eddie settled, and so did the air around him.  After a few heartbeats, there were only the crashing waves and the birds once again, and Eddie’s head snapped to you, searching, making sure you were okay.

He held his arms out and you scrambled over, burying your head in the crook of his neck, letting him cage you, letting him have you.

Louie went over to sniff around at the man on the ground, wondering if he had any treats, and then he lifted his leg and let go of a stream of urine onto his shoe.

—-----

Murray Bauman slammed the paper onto Hopper’s desk, forcing a gust of wind into his face and a couple of yellow sticky notes to go flying.

Murray waited, hands on his hips, the door to the office wide open behind him.  Hopper took a deep inhale and flicked a few bored glances from the cover of the Seaside Review back up to Murray’s severe expression.

“Is this your way of telling me you're taking a vacation?” He guessed, shifting back in his squeaky chair.

“This,” Murray jabbed his finger in the direction of the paper.  “Is what I’ve been trying to tell you about.”

In the mood to humor his old friend, Hopper bent forward, furrowing his brow, taking a closer look at the headlines.  

Murray continued, pacing in front of the desk as he did so.  “Merpeople don’t exist? Well then, explain that to me.”

To the right, at the top of a long column and a sketch, was the headline: Reclusive artist survives a Siren attack on the beach and lives to tell: Merfolk exist.

Hopper cleared his throat.  “This is a drawing, Murray.”

Murray stopped his pacing, inclining his head, adopting a sarcastic tone.  “Notice anything familiar about that likeness, Jim? Does any part of it ring a bell? The white eyes, maybe? The teeth?”

“Sure,” Hopper picked the paper up and plopped it down, further away from him.  “It looks like Elvis.  Call The Inquirer.” 

Murray flopped in a chair facing the Chief’s desk with a huff.  He’d keep talking about it even if it fell on deaf ears because he knew he was right.  “The migration of the Sirens.  Enki, Poseidon, Amphitrite, the legend of the skin-shedding Merfolk who can walk on land for 7 days during a blood moon.  Humanoids.  Cannibals of the sea—-”

“Stop,” Hopper put his hand up palm out. “Just, stop. Is any of this supposed to make any sense to me? Why are you here? What have I done to deserve this?”

Murray rested his elbows on the arms of the chair, intertwining his fingers.  “The drawing should look familiar to you, Jim, because it’s just like the one I saw when I was a teenager, and three summers ago when I was on that death-trap Alaskan cruise.  I told you all about it.  I told you that I was—-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper interrupted.  “But again, I’ll ask—why are you coming to me with this? You think I’m going to arrest a fish?”

Murray rounded his shoulders.  "I know that Sirens exist, Jim.  There’s more than enough evidence out there, and I’m going to prove it to you, if not the world.” 

[horrorisunknowntoyou]

Watching From The Sidelines P.4

[SAGAU X SHAPESHIFTER READER]

Synopsis: The game continues, but feelings of pain start arising. You are vulnerable. But this might be a wake up call for you.

A/n: Thank you so much for the support! Y'all filling my notifications with tag list request lmao. I can't write all of you, I have 4 index cards full of usernames. But I'll try my best!

TW// vomiting blood, being very sick.

Also heavy leaning to Zhongli x Reader

Song recommendations:

Gold - Imagine Dragons

Golden hour - JVKE

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It's been a few months since the game has started.

Life was going on as normally, well as normal as a business man working with literally gods chasing you.

Of course even with unlimited stamina, and unmatched skill, it's starting to take a toll on your body. You couldn't explain it, but something was hurting deep inside you.

Maybe it was the fact you haven't been 'you'.

You been stuck as m/n for months! And your kinda starting to forget who you are. Sure it's been a lot of fun to play pretend. Being smug and rich and whatever...but you kinda miss old you.

The person who played genshin for fun! Sure, your no longer financially struggling or suffering but at this point, looking in the mirror is starting to be painful.

You don't know how long you can play this game anymore.

Of course you knew the acolytes and followers are more then devoted to you, willing to do whatever to do whatever you want. To prove themselves to you and win your favor, and this point they added so much people it's starting to get annoying.

Yeah, it's fun but you don't know how much your heart can take it.

Currently your hiding inside a shed, listening carefully to your surroundings outside.

You felt this unbearable sinking feeling in your chest. At this point your tempted to call the game quits because something is very wrong.

You really don't want to though.

Hours passed, sinking in and out of consciousness, you see a person shouting at you trying to warn you something before gasping awake.

You unintentionally fell asleep in the shed, bewildered and stressed out you decided leaving the shed for air was your best bet.

As you clutched onto you stomach you felt very uncomfortable.

You took a deep breathe of air, trying to stable yourself but you can't. You don't know why? Was it you doubting yourself? Who's the person you dreamed of?

Imagines of someone speaking to you popped into your head again, disorienting you.

"Zhongli!" You yelled out, leaning on a wall coughing into your hand, noticing it shine in reflection of the sun.

It was blood.

Your blood.

He immediately appeared, startling you, he looked at you concerned.

You immediately shaped shifted to your original form.

" I-i hate to end the game, but I...I don't feel well I don't think I can continue on." You mumbles to him.

His eyes widen at this, as other acolytes appeared behind him. You started coughing again, and next thing you knew. You vomit out blood, and collapsed on the ground.

You heard screaming, crying, and feeling of hands holding you gently in their grasp.

You also saw that person again briefly, they were stroking your hair mumbling sweet nothings to you.

It felt warm.

Then everything went to black.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You felt comfortable.

Very comfortable.

You blinked slowly, waking up realizing youwere practically drowning in pillows and blankets. Staring at the ceiling above you, before eventually sitting up. You were on this huge bed, gently patting your chest. Noticing the change of clothes.

It was a simple white nightgown, most likely due to your other clothes covered in your blood.

Before you can even think, the door swung open, The archons looking at you.

"YOUR GRACE YOU'RE AWAKE!" Venti yellowed out, practically tears brimming his eyes. " I was so worried! "

"Your highness please, never scare us like that again." Zhongli says, closing the door behind him so others don't barge in.

Ei stood their silently, looking at you with sadden look.

You sigh," Zhongli... explained what happened after I blacked out?"

He nods, " Of course your grace, after...after you passed out, we thought we lost you after so long. We had to shield you and bring you back to the temple quick as possible. We got the best doctors to check up on you. "

You looked at your hands, clenching them into fists before letting go.

"My body was probably stressing out after using so much of my shapeshifting ability. And it magnifying with my identity crisis. It made me too vulnerable.

But who is that person I keep seeing? I didn't even dream of them..."

You sigh, " I apologize for worrying you all, it appears I must pause the game in the meantime. As I need to rest and heal. I had no idea this would have happened. I'll take note of it in the future. "

You tried to get up, but all three Archons immediately set you back down.

" I apologize your highness but we can not let you leave this room. " Zhongli says firmly, tucking you back in. "If you want anything, we will get it for you."

After everything, you just agree with it. "Ei take care of my business, Venti alert the others I'm awake. Zhongli you stay with me. " You quietly ordered them.

They all nod.

You were exhausted even if you just awoke. Som much things already on your mind.

"Zhongli can I ask you an odd request." You mumbles.

"Nothing is odd if it's coming from you your highness. What is your request?" He asked, sitting on a chair besides the bed to keep watch.

You gently lend a hand out, " can I hold your hand?"

He perked up at the request, " H-hold your hand? It would be an honor. " He gently grabs your hand. It felt reassuring to have, as you slowly blink. Falling asleep with your hand interlock with Zhongli's.

You didn't dream of that person again.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You been recovering well, however you practically can not do anything. Like at all.

Also no info could be found of the person you are looking for. Which is huge bummer but you'll look more into it yourself once at full health.

Besides that, due to the accident the Archons are scared you're going to vomit out blood again. They are hovering over you 24/7, like you can't be alone at all. Someone has to be with you at all times.

You couldn't even feed yourself, someone has to feed you by hand while you sat in bed.

It was humiliating.

But you couldn't do much until your strength was fully back.

But there was something you didn't expect....

That was meeting the harbingers.

You were literally in a nightgown, in bed, resting and Dottore was doing a check up on you....

HOW WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO ACT????

You knew of pantalone due to business connects and such as m/n. But the others? How the hell were you supposed to deal with them???

You just sat there, unsure as they asked how your doing and such. It was obvious they wanted to be in your favor.

All you can do is let them, as time passed and you watch the harbingers speak to each other. You paid them no attention as you slowly drifted to sleep engulfed in a warm embrace of it.

-----------------------------------------------------------

At this point, you were so sick of resting.

Besides Ei bringing you papers to read or give your signature to for your business. You practically had nothing to do!

Your been nagged to death by so many people, The Archons, Harbingers, followers etc. The list goes on and your going insane. The amount of times late at night your suffocating yourself with a pillow or punching it before being sedated by Zhongli.

You wanted to rip your hair out!

However the more you slept, the more you talked to 'that' person.

You still don't know who it is, but it's clear they were warning you of your illness.

Which confused you still, but that's a plus up. However that still doesn't change your issues.

1. Who is dream person?

2.Health is not fully healed.

3.Stuck in the temple much to your displeasure.

4. Having to pause the game.

Things are not going as you planned....

You are pacing in your room, Zhongli watching you in concerned.

"Is something wrong your highness? You seem troubled. " He asked but all you can do is pace back in forth thinking.

You looked at him.

"Zhongli, what your opinion in continuing the game? We never finished it." You faced him. He thinks about it, " I-im unsure your highness, believe me, as we want to prove our loyalty to you. You must understand we don't know how much you recovered. We fear of loosing you. "

" so if I were to wish to continue, it's assume the others would decline? "

" Most likely yes your highness. "

You sigh, running your hand through your hair, " call a meeting with everyone involved in the game. " You command yanking the doors open and swiftly walking down the hallway.

Zhongli immediately chases after you, " your highness! I understand you're displeased but your in a nightgown! Barefooted on tile! " He tries to usher you , but you only ignored him.

Others soon noticed you, common folk immediately bowed before you and stepped away. Others started to follow behind you trying to put you back to bed.

You headed to the throne room, and sat at your throne. Not caring if your dressed improperly, you wanted things done.

Aether and Paimon was visiting a noticed you walking in and the archons following behind you as well body guards. He was confused what was going on as more appeared. Soon him and Paimon was ushered in.

You held a meeting.

"As many of you know, I gotten I'll however. I feel I rested enough. I wish to continue the game. " You command, resting your head on your hand watching the others.

Chatter erupted the room.

Some disagreed to this, prioritizing your health above anything else. Other's were arguing for it, as you created the game and wished for this.

It was hotly debated between the folk.

You sat above and watched down at them, listening to their opinions. You honestly wanted to know what to do. Crossing you legs and pondered.

Zhongli was absolutely against this and he took off his coat and place it on your lap. Keeping you covered.

"Ah, thank you." You quietly say. Unknowingly as others noticed this. Them turing to face you.

"Its my pleasure your highness." Zhongli says with a smile, placing a kiss on your hand.

What was meant to be a serious debated turned into an argument over you. And now others were suggesting to give you a piece of their clothing to you.

You couldn't help but laugh nervously and blush at this stupid situation. How the hell are you supposed to manage this stupid mess? This is nothing like running a business.

God help me.

------------------------------------------------------------

Tag list:

@borbsbirbs @emuxmu @cryastre @lizzhearthz @aphxdea @leafanonsforest @mynameis-star @lunarapple @red1sg0n3 @0hsilver @travelergarnett @valeriele3 @imlost-sendhelp @local-mr-frog @cumbermovels @bidisasterforevermore @sora-but-sadder @moraxsimp69 @iruiji @ll-nty77 @yuyuzi-ling @yunareinhart @enld @code-roevember @no-name-omo @meena-in-a-nutshell @randomnatics @the-2nd-random-kid @smokey-cat @moosieman12345 @nexylaza @stellakito @byakuren100 @jcrml @guess-i-die @creation-magician @longppanoodle @angelkazusstuff @apple-ai @yandere-city

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[little-diable]

Twin Flame - Dean Winchester (smut)

Inspired by the song "Twin Flame" by Brennan Story. I love love love this fic, and I hope y'all will love it too. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Months ago Dean had broken the reader's heart, a desperate try to protect her. But he no longer manages to stay away, needing to find his way back to her.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, makeup sex, some heartbreak in the beginning, a very very happy end

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.8k words)

Well this road don't get no shorter, I would've drove the whole thing for you, my tank down to a quarter, and it'll be gone soon

„What is up with you lately, Dean?” Sam’s voice filled Baby, worried eyes watching his brother. No reply left Dean as he kept driving on, caught in his memories like a fly trapped in the web of a spider set to kill. He was stuck, without a way out, and yet, deep down inside he prayed that he’d never be able to leave those memories behind. 

Whenever he got a moment to let his thoughts wander, he had to think of her, the one who still holds his heart in her hands, even after all these months. Being with her had been something he had never experienced before, a new sensation he longed for like a man dying of thirst dreaming of any water he could drink. Loving her had been everything Dean wasn’t, it had been sweet, easy, it had been too good to be true. 

Whenever he was lying awake at night, eyes staring at the dirty ceiling of the motel rooms he and Sam found shelter in, he imagined her laying next to him, head resting on his chest, listening to his calmly beating heart. Dean still felt her weight on him, if he closed his eyes he could feel her right there with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, words that had been etched into his mind. 

“Dean?” Sam tried again, worried eyes flickering back to the dark road ahead, knowing that it would take them at least a couple more hours to make their way to the bunker. “Hey man, c’mon, talk to me, I can tell something is going on.” 

“It’s nothing, Sammy.” His voice told Sam everything he needed to know, exposing the hurt, the sadness flushing through Dean’s system. Dean’s green eyes were hazy, no longer filled with that special glint spurring him on whenever they were on a hunt, it felt as if he was no longer in the car with Sam, just a body without a soul tied to it. 

“Is it about her? Dean, you should just call her, reach out, it’s never too late.” A sharp inhale of cold air was forced into Dean’s lungs, teeth grazing his lower lip to stop his angry words from rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t call the one whose heart he had broken, leaving her behind without looking back once, choosing the life with his brother over her, a hunter just like him and his brother – a woman Dean wanted to protect from being hurt because of him.

The cold words he had spoken to her were still ringing in his ears, how he had pushed her away, nothing but a stupid spiel Dean stuck to, in order to save her from a life filled with uneasy times, with hunts that would leave their marks on her. Dean Winchester would do everything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking (y/n)’s heart, and his own. 

And my drink been feelin' lighter, 'cause I'm a lover not a fighter, and I seen that you caught fire, when you put me out

“Sammy, wake up, we’re home.” Dean’s rough voice filled the dark night, hand shaking his brother’s shoulder. It took Sam a moment to wake, hands rubbing his tired eyes. Slowly did the younger Winchester brother undo his seatbelt, halting his movements as he noticed that Dean wasn't moving. 

“What’s wrong?” Worry dripped from the tip of Sam’s tongue, watching his brother’s gaze flicker between the steering wheel and the phone Dean kept clinging to. 

“I have something to do, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Silence filled Baby, a silence so loud, Dean started to shuffle around in his seat, waiting for his brother to speak up or to start moving, already annoyed with the time they kept wasting just now. Dean was feeling antsy, nervousness filled his system, a sensation so unfamiliar he couldn’t help but curse it. 

“Dean,” Sam whispered his brother’s name, hand finding his shoulder. “Get her back, stop worrying about dragging her down with you, she’s stronger than the both of us combined, she’ll do just fine being around us.” 

Dean couldn’t reply, throat too tight, mouth too dry to produce any sounds, unsure what to say to the brother of his that looked at him with so much hope swimming in his pupils. Sam didn’t know much about the night where Dean had left her, he didn’t know of the words he had spoken, hurtful words that have left their scars on his and her soul, it’d be a miracle if she’d take Dean back. But he couldn’t breathe without her near, couldn’t live on without her by his side. 

……

“Absolutely not.” (Y/n)’s eyes met Dean’s desperate ones, body turned from him as she tried to close her door, without any luck, wood caught by the boot he had pushed past her entrance. A string of curses left her, jaw ticking in anger as her eyes found their way back to his, reading the pleading swimming in his pupils before she slowly took a step back, inviting him back in. 

Dean followed her through the all too familiar four walls he had once started to call his new home, the house they should grow old in, the house they should raise their children in, nothing but mere dreams that have evaporated into nothing but a hazy dream both could no longer recreate. 

“I always knew you’d step low, but turning up here is ruthless, even for you, Dean Winchester.” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes not daring to leave his once. Slowly he sank down on her couch, right next to her, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away. Without thinking he reached for her hand, moving faster than she had anticipated, catching her fingers before she could move them away as if he was a flame she burnt herself on. 

“I wasn’t planning on coming here, hell, I wasn’t planning on ever setting my foot back in this house.” His whispers were torn between sounds reminding one of cries for help and a voice so quiet one could have problems understanding what he was saying. An angry huff left (y/n), glassy eyes focusing on the calloused fingertips stroking the back of her hand, pushing an all too familiar sensation through her body. She was trembling, begging for whoever was listening to relieve her from the pain she had never been able to let go of, and yet she had tried to keep on moving, without looking back once. 

“You broke my heart, you left me without an explanation, just your awful words. One day you were here, and the next you were suddenly gone. It took me a while to give my life a new meaning, to adjust to hunting on my own, but I managed just fine for the past months, Dean. Why do you have to return the second I’m finally okay on my own?” Her tears started rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like a once dry waterfall regaining its impressive strength. With his other hand finding her jaw, Dean started drying her tears, heart clenching in his chest as he was once again reminded of the pain he had pushed her through. 

“I know, and I’m so sorry for being so fucking selfish, but I can’t stay away. Every second without you by my side is pure torture, you’re the only thing I can think of, no matter when or where I am. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, after watching you getting hurt because of me, because I couldn’t step back from a hunt we should have called backup for, I knew i had to get away from you. I can’t be the reason you get into any more danger. But as much as I hate myself for saying it, I can’t live without you, not any longer.” A heavy sigh left (y/n) as she looked at Dean, focusing on the pain filling his green pupils, on the lifeless expression tugging on his features. He was no longer the Dean she had once been with, no, he had changed, their breakup had left its marks on him, as much as it had left its marks on her. And yet she still longed for him, after all the sleepless nights she had cursed him for. 

“I need time to think this through, you have hurt me so much, Dean, so much. But I still love you, a lot. You can sleep on the sofa and we can talk in the morning.” Slowly Dean let go of her, pulling his hands away to give (y/n) enough space to rise to her feet. With one last glance thrown his way, she disappeared down the hallway, letting the door to her bedroom fall shut with a soft thud. 

And as Dean sat on the sofa he had once put together with (y/n), he couldn’t help but give into the tears welling up in his eyes. 

And I'd set fire onto, these boots running from the hard truth, that you don't need me the same way I need you

……

Dean woke with a groan leaving him, back aching from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to remember the past hours, how he had turned up at (y/n)’s place, how he had cried into his hands as she had parted from him. His green eyes shot open, finding a pair of all too familiar eyes already staring at him. (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wearing the same shirt she had worn hours ago. Only now did Dean realise that the shirt had once belonged to him, pushing a very welcomed heat through his aching body. 

“I made some coffee.” Her soft voice left his heart skipping beats, needing to cherish these moments should she ask him to leave in the upcoming minutes. Slowly did Dean sit up, stretching his neck and arms before he murmured a “Thank you, sweetheart”, taking the cup of warm coffee (y/n) pushed into his direction. 

“I didn’t catch any sleep, but I got enough time to think.” Dean braced himself for the words she was about to speak, teeth grazing his lower lip. His heart was racing way too fast for the early hour, and yet Dean didn’t manage to calm his system, palms growing sweatier with every second. He struggled to look into the eyes he’d see whenever he closed his at night, desperate to feel her close, pupils that were once so familiar, so loved, pupils that felt like nothing but a fever dream now. “I love you too much to push you away, but it’ll take me some time to trust you again, Dean. You have to accept that we’ll both get hurt on hunts, with or without Sammy. And you’ll accept that I’ll join you on all hunts I want to join, you won’t get a say about my decisions. Are we clear?”

He looked at her for a few more moments before his hand found the back of her neck, pulling (y/n) in for a bruising kiss. With a gasp leaving (y/n) she moved closer, arms finding their way around his neck, allowing Dean to pull her into his lap. The kiss was fuelled by their longing for one another, hearts begging them to never part ways again, unable to endure another wave of heartbreak. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, whatever you need. I love you so much, sweetheart, I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” Dean murmured his words against her lips, pulling her in for another kiss as his hands disappeared underneath the comfortable shirt of his she was wearing. Her breath hitched in her chest as Dean shuffled them around, pressing (y/n) against the sofa with him nestling between her thighs. Moans clawed through the two as Dean began to roll his hips, rubbing his hardening bulge against her damp panties. 

“Been dreaming about you touching me, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but miss you, your lips, your fingers.” A soft, throaty laugh rumbled through Dean as he pushed her shirt up to expose her chest to his hungry eyes, lips finding her hardening nipples almost instantly, leaving his marks on every inch of her warm flesh. 

“Fuck, no matter what I tried, my mind always wandered back to you. I imagined the words you’d moan, how you’d wrap your fingers around my cock. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love you.” No longer could she reply to his words, (y/n) had almost forgotten the loving words his mouth and mind were able to create in moments like this one, set on making her feel the love his heart pumped through his system. “I need to be inside of you, it’s been too fucking long. Do you have a condom?”

“No, but I’m clean, I didn’t sleep with anybody but you.” She was almost scared to ask Dean if he had touched another woman, struggling to form the question that now rang through her mind, leaving her breathless. Dean pushed another kiss against her lips before he shuffled out of his clothes, exposing his twitching cock to her wandering eyes.

“Good, you’re mine to touch only, forever mine. I didn’t touch anybody else, just the thought of it made me sick, no matter how much alcohol I needed to try and forget about us.” With her hand finding its way back to  his neck, and with her legs slowly wrapping themselves around his hips, (y/n) chased his slightly swollen lips.

The sound of their moans leaving them in unison was drowned by their kiss, Dean moved slow at first, needing to hold back before he’d cum right there and then, no longer used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his cock. Both clung to one another as he fucked her into the sofa, with one hand placed on the arm rest and the other on her waist, leaving marks with his fingertips digging into her skin. (Y/n) arched her front against his, trembling legs not daring to loosen their hold on his waist, wondering if she was only stuck in a dream, or if Dean was truly fucking her, reminding her that she was his.

And no matter how hard I try, I'll never learn to say goodbye, you say it's okay to cry, baby that river done ran dry 

“God, how I missed feeling you, feels so perfect, so fucking perfect.” With his forehead pressed against hers, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, growing rougher as her walls fluttered around him, tensing every now and then. Dean had lost count on the amount of times he had dreamt of feeling her again, of loving her just like he had always promised he would. 

“Same, fuck, don’t ever leave me again, Dean.” (Y/n) choked on his name, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves. Both knew  that they wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, it felt as if they hadn’t been able to let go for months, unable to touch themselves without thinking of one another. But both had tried to make themselves cum for weeks on end, unable to do so, since their minds painted pictures too painful, pictures they could now finally leave behind.

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart? Fuck, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.” Another moan left (y/n) as Dean’s lips found her jaw, kissing their way down her neck. It took her a moment to reply, choking on her breaths, unable to think clear with her thoughts growing hazy. 

“Inside of me, please, Dean, fill me up.” She felt his cock twitching inside of her, forcing her to add more pressure on her clit, crying his name as she came. Dean followed her down the edge, eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a “Fuck” leaving him.

Both were heavily breathing, not daring to part with their bodies still joined, just like their jumping hearts. (Y/n) murmured his name as she combed a hand through his hair, eyes finding his, “I love you Dean, no matter what will happen between us, I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.”