#trying desperately to beat it before fall though!!

[baigepueckers]

Caitlin Clark X Reader

Love and Marriage

It’s a quiet night in, the two of you curled up on the couch, the glow of a movie is on the screen in front of you. The sounds of some romantic comedy is in the background, but you’re only half watching…your attention drifting every so often to the steady rise and fall of Caitlin’s breathing beside you. She has her arm wrapped around you pulling you in close, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your shoulder like she’s memorizing every part of you.

This is your comfort zone …date nights at home, a bowl of popcorn between you and your legs tangled together under the blanket. Caitlin lets out a sigh shifting to press a soft kiss to the top of your head, and you settle deeper into her embrace, feeling that familiar warmth. There’s something about nights like this that makes the whole world fall away…leaving just you and her in this quiet, shared space.

And then just as the movie reaches one of those overly sweet sentimental moments, you hear Caitlin’s voice soft and contemplative. “You know… we could just make it official.” Her words are barely louder than a whisper, but they cut through the stillness making your heart skip a beat.

You glance up, seeing the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth but there’s a seriousness in her eyes, a weight that tells you this is more than a passing thought. “Official?” you ask, feigning confusion to buy yourself a moment to process the familiar, almost expectant look in her eyes.

She laughs softly but there’s a nervousness to it, like she’s treading carefully. “Yeah, like… you know, us… a wedding. I mean, we’ve been together for a bit, baby. What are we waiting?”

The question hovers in the air and you can feel her fingers tighten slightly on your shoulder, her eyes searching yours. You know she means it. She’s been dropping hints here and there for months now, each one a little more insistent than the last.

You remember her glancing over at your friends exchanging their vows during their wedding you attended together last month. Her hand slipping into yours and the way she’d sighed in content, squeezing your hand a little tighter. Or when you’d caught the bouquet and playfully asked “Ohhh is this a sign?” with a mischievous smile even though you’d both laughed it off.

And the other day after you’d spent the weekend visiting her family, she’d told you in the car “Honey, my parents already consider you a part of the family. We could just make it real, you know?” You hadn’t had an answer then and she hadn’t pushed, but it was clear that each little moment like that made her want this even more.

“Cait,” you murmur, shifting so you can meet her gaze. “We don’t need to rush. We’re together and that’s enough for me.” You reach up, brushing a hand through her hair, trying to soothe the flicker of hurt you see in her eyes.

She sighs but it’s soft, like she’s trying to hold back her frustration. “Y/N, it’s just…” She bites her lip her fingers lacing with yours as she gathers her thoughts. “I’ve never been this sure about anyone before. You’re it for me baby. I don’t want to keep waiting, not when I know you’re my forever.”

Her voice cracks slightly and the desperation in her words settle deep in your chest. You’ve always known Caitlin is all in with you, that she’s never questioned this but seeing her like this…her heart on her sleeve makes it all feel that much more real. She wants this with you maybe even needs it, and you realize your hesitation is hurting her in a way you hadn’t fully understood.

“Baby” you say, your voice thick with emotion as you cup her cheek, your thumb brushing softly along her skin. “It’s not that I don’t want it…I love you more than anything. But why can’t we just hold onto what we have in the moment? It doesn’t mean I don’t see you as my forever...because you’re it for me too, Caity.”

She leans into your touch but there’s still a sadness in her eyes, a longing that’s hard to ignore. “I know you love me,” she whispers, her voice barely holding steady. “But I just can’t help wanting you to be mine officially, baby. I want to know you’re mine in every way, that we’re building this life together, no question.”

The way her voice breaks when she says “mine” sends a pang through your chest. You remember her eyes welling with tears as she held your hand in the ER when you’d gotten in a bad car wreck months ago, and how she’d kept mumbling, “You’re gonna be okay, my strong girl.” over and over again, clinging to you as if her touch could keep you safe. It’s like she’s been carrying a worry, that there’s no label, yet to prove this is forever.

You look at her taking in the vulnerability, the feelings she’s sharing. She’s trying so hard to understand and to be patient but you can see it’s breaking her a little more each time you ask her to wait. The thought of watching her hope fade, of letting this tension grow between you is too much.

Silence falls as you search her face, feeling the weight of your own hesitation and your own fears, begin to slip away. And then with a deep breath you realize you don’t want to wait either. Not anymore…not if it means seeing her so full of longing.

Before you can overthink it you reach out, taking her hand and holding it between both of yours. “Okay” you murmur voice barely above a whisper. Her eyes widen and you see a flash of surprise and hope that makes your heart beat faster.

“Okay?” she echoes, almost like she’s afraid to believe it.

You smile feeling a wave of certainty settle over you. “Let’s do it, Caity. Let’s get married…I want this with you, all of it.”

Her breath catches, and her face breaks into a smile that’s all joy. Her eyes misty..you can see a dozen emotions flicker across her face relief, excitement, love..all blurring together as she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close. Her grip is strong as if letting go would mean this might vanish.

“I can’t believe you actually said yes” she whispers..a laugh escaping through the happy tears she’s trying to hold back. “I mean, I knew I’d convince you one day, but…you really want this?”

You nod, your own voice breaking as you pull her in even closer. “Yes, baby. I don’t want to keep holding back, I want it all with you.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before her hand slides to cup your cheek, her eyes full of wonder. She leans in, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s soft and tender, a kiss that speaks of everything she’s ever wanted to say. Her thumb brushes against your cheek as her lips linger against yours, gentle but filled with all the love she’s been holding in her heart. It’s a kiss that feels like a promise, like the beginning of something you both know will last a lifetime.

She leans back slightly, keeping your face in her hands as she studies you…the disbelief still lighting up her face. Her fingers brush over your cheeks. “You have no idea how happy this makes me… I was starting to think I’d have to propose every day until you finally said yes.”

You laugh softly, your heart swelling. “I don’t know why I kept you waiting so long. I think I just… I was scared of losing what we have. But I see it now…marrying you isn’t going to change anything. I just get to call you my wife.”

She nods, her thumb brushing over your cheek as she looks at you with intensity, that it takes your breath away. “Exactly sweet girl. I can’t believe you’re going to be my actual wife.” Caitlin says giggling.

A different expression drifts across Caitlin’s face and you can tell she’s already thinking ahead, her excitement too much to contain. “I wonder what kind of rings we’ll get” she murmurs, almost to herself. “I mean, you deserve something stunning…something classic and elegant, just like you.”

She glances down at your hand as if imagining the ring there, her fingers tracing over your knuckles with a softness that sends warmth rushing through you. She brings your hand to her mouth and kisses your knuckles. “Maybe a solitaire diamond for you, something timeless” she continues her eyes twinkling. “And for me…maybe something a little less traditional, something that’ll remind me of you every time I look at it.”

You feel yourself blushing as her words sink in, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “You’re already planning the rings?”

“Of course” she says, grinning and looking at you like she can’t believe you’re hers in every way. “And the dresses. Can you imagine how gorgeous you’ll look? I can picture you walking down the aisle towards me…” She trails off the thought of it making her eyes misty all over again.

The mental image of her standing at the end of the aisle waiting for you with that same look of love and certainty she’s wearing now, sends a shiver through you. You can almost see the smile she’ll be trying to hide and the way she’ll probably have to wipe away her tears as she watches you make your way to her.

“God, I can’t believe we’re actually talking about this. A wedding…with you.” Caitlin murmurs after a beat of silence.

You squeeze her hand your own excitement growing as you watch her get lost in the details. “It’s going to be beautiful babe…and knowing you, you’ll make sure it’s perfect like you always do.”

She laughs softly her eyes still bright with the future she’s so clearly picturing. “Perfect would just be the two of us, you know? Somewhere small and quiet…where I can tell you everything you mean to me. But I’ll take a big celebration if that’s what you want.” she adds her voice filled with a love so clear it leaves you breathless.

You smile feeling that same love rushing through you. You never thought saying yes would feel this right, that it would open up a whole world of dreams you didn’t even know you wanted.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/ BTR Book 2: a Jhea fanfic.

Chapter 12: Sago Palm

February 2nd, 2025 3:42 AM

Rhea’s body shifted restlessly under the sheets, her face contorted with a mix of fear and pain. She was trapped in the depths of a nightmare, a vivid and cruel imagination of her deepest fears. In the dream, she stood in the middle of a cold, sterile courtroom. The judge, his gavel raised high, pronounced in a booming voice: “Matthew Addams, not guilty.”

Gasps echoed through the room, but it was as if everyone around her was frozen. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to scream, but no sound came out. The walls of the courtroom seemed to close in around her, and when she tried to run, every door was locked. Desperation clawed at her throat, her fists pounding uselessly against the unyielding wooden doors.

Suddenly, the walls started to bleed, dark red streaks running down, and the courtroom dissolved into a suffocating void. Rhea was falling, falling endlessly—

She jolted awake with a gasp, her chest heaving as she sat upright. Her heart raced, the phantom echoes of the dream still lingering in her mind. Sweat clung to her skin, and she tried to catch her breath.

Beside her, Jey was already awake, his eyes filled with concern. “I kept trying to wake you,” he said softly, his voice thick with worry. He reached out and gently touched her arm. “You were crying out in your sleep again babe..”

She pressed her hands to her face, trying to shake off the remnants of the nightmare. “It was him,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “The judge… he said Matthew was not guilty. And I couldn’t get out. Every door was locked, Jey.”

Jey sat up and pulled her into his arms without hesitation, holding her tightly against his chest. His warmth and steady heartbeat began to ground her, chasing away the lingering fear. He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering for a moment. “It was just a dream, baby. I’m here. He’s not gonna hurt you again. I won’t let him.”

Rhea let out a shuddering breath, the tears she had been holding back finally escaping. “I don’t know why it still feels so real,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I know he is in jail right now but I feel like he’s still out there, waiting to destroy everything again.”

Jey’s arms tightened around her, his protective nature kicking in full force. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You’ve been through hell, but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me and the whole family. We’re not gonna let him win.”

Rhea leaned into him, her fingers clutching at his shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to reality. She closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. “I love you,” she murmured.

Jey tilted her chin up so she could meet his eyes. “I love you too, Rhea. More than anything.”

He kissed her softly, a promise wrapped in tenderness. When he pulled back, he said, “You don’t have to carry this alone. We’re gonna get through it, together.”

Rhea nodded, the weight on her chest feeling just a little lighter. “Together,” she repeated.

Jey shifted, leaning back against the headboard, and pulled her to rest against him. “Come here,” he said, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back. “Close your eyes. I got you.”

—

8:42 AM

Rhea sat curled up on the couch, a cozy blanket draped over her legs as the rich aroma of hot champurrado filled the room. The warm mug rested in her hands, offering a small comfort as she spoke to her mother over the phone.

“How’s my lovely pregnant daughter feeling?” her mother asked, her voice filled with affection.

“I’m doing fine, Mom,” Rhea replied, though her tone carried a hint of weariness.

Her mother didn’t miss a beat. “Talk to me, babygirl. I can hear it in your voice.”

Rhea hesitated, taking a slow sip from her mug before setting it down on the coffee table. “I don’t want to alarm you, but I do have to ask… Did I deserve any of the things that happened to me?”

There was a moment of silence on the other end before her mother’s voice returned, firm and resolute. “Demi, listen to me. No one deserves the kind of pain you’ve been through. No one. You’ve been strong, and you’ve fought through more than most people could handle. Are you okay?”

Rhea sighed, leaning back into the cushions. “It’s just my nightmares, Mom. They’ve been getting worse lately.”

Her mother’s voice softened. “Have you thought about journaling? It helped me when your father and I were going through a rough patch. Sometimes putting your thoughts on paper can help you make sense of them.”

Rhea shook her head, though she knew her mother couldn’t see it. “No, but I’ve started gardening again. It helps, being out there, working with my hands.”

“That’s the spirit,” her mother said, her voice warm with encouragement.

Rhea hesitated again before asking, “Mom… do you think Jey really loves me?”

Her mother was quiet for a moment, then let out a soft sigh. “Honey, he was there every single day when you were in that coma. He didn’t leave your side. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Rhea’s chest tightened, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. “I love him a lot,” she admitted quietly. “But I just don’t want to feel like I’m forcing him into this because I got pregnant.”

Her mother’s voice grew gentle but firm. “Demi, a real man steps up when it matters most. Jey is that kind of man, and you already know that. Trust in his love for you, just like he trusts in you.”

Rhea felt a small smile tug at her lips. “Thank you, Mom. I needed to hear that.”

“Tell you what,” her mother said. “Your father and I can come down at the end of the month to see your new home. We’d love to spend some time with you.”

Rhea’s smile widened. “That would be great. I’d love to see you guys.”

“Alright then,” her mother said, her tone lifting. “And remember, Demi, you’re never alone. We’re always here for you.”

“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

“We love you too, sweetheart. Now, go enjoy your day with that wonderful man of yours.”

Rhea ended the call, setting her phone aside as she leaned back into the couch. The weight on her shoulders felt a little lighter, her mother’s words a comforting balm to her restless thoughts. She looked out the window, watching the sunlight dance on the leaves in her garden.

No matter how dark her dreams got, she reminded herself, there was always light to be found in the love and support of those who cared for her.

Liv walked down the stairs, her fuzzy socks padding softly on the hardwood floor. She spotted Rhea curled up on the couch.

“Do you have more of that cocoa?” Liv asked, her voice light.

Rhea glanced up and smiled. “Yeah, it’s in the kettle. Help yourself.”

Liv headed to the kitchen, pouring herself a cup. She took a sip and her eyes lit up, it wasn’t cocoa. “Is this Dom’s champurrado?”

Rhea nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, he made some for me last night so I could have it this morning.”

Liv grinned. “I love it when he makes this stuff. It’s like a warm hug in a cup.”

Heading to the couch, Liv plopped down next to Rhea, pulling the blanket over her legs. She snuggled up close, and they both turned their attention to the TV, the soft glow of the screen casting a cozy light in the room.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Rhea spoke, her voice quieter. “I had a nightmare again.”

Liv’s head tilted as she looked at her best friend. “Did you punch Jey this time?” she teased, a playful smirk on her face.

Rhea let out a small laugh. “No, not this time.”

Liv gave her a nudge. “So, what was it about?”

Rhea’s smile faded as she recounted the details of her dream. “It was the trial. The judge found Matt not guilty, and I tried to run out of the courtroom, but every door was locked. I couldn’t get out.”

Liv frowned, her playful demeanor replaced with concern. “Rhea, the trial hasn’t even happened yet. There’s still time, and you’ve got the best lawyer on your side. Julian’s a shark—he helped you get your name back when Matt would not sign the papers.”

Rhea sighed, leaning her head back against the couch. “I know, but I’m worried. What if the jury actually believes him? What if they find him not guilty?”

Liv placed her hand on Rhea’s arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “That’s not going to happen. You’ve been through hell, but you’ve got everyone backing you—Jey, us, your family. And Julian’s not going to let some scumbag walk free after what he did to you.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen. “I just can’t help but think about the worst-case scenario, you know?”

Liv leaned her head on Rhea’s shoulder. “It’s normal to worry, but you’re stronger than your fears. And if you ever forget that, just remember you’ve got all of us here to remind you.”

A small smile crept back onto Rhea’s face. “Thanks, Liv. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Liv grinned. “Well, for starters, you’d be stuck drinking boring hot cocoa instead of Dom’s champurrado.”

Rhea laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Fair point.”

The two friends sat in comforting silence, their shared warmth under the blanket a quiet reminder that, no matter what lay ahead, they wouldn’t face it alone.

Rhea asked, “How’s your head?”

Liv sighed, adjusting herself on the couch and pulling back her blonde hair to reveal a faint bruise. “I’ve got a bruise, to be honest, but I don’t think it’s a concussion.”

Rhea leaned in, gently touching the bruise with concern. “I’m so sorry, girl.”

Liv gave a small smile. “I’m okay, Rhea, don’t worry. I’ve been through worse.” She paused, then brightened. “How about you come to the mall with me later? I need to replace a bunch of stuff—aside from my ring gear.”

Rhea nodded. “Sure, after breakfast.”

Liv stretched and teased, “Speaking of breakfast, is Jey gonna get up and cook?”

Rhea chuckled. “It’s my turn today. I’ll make us some steak and eggs with toast.”

Liv’s eyes lit up. “That sounds amazing. I’ll help you.”

The two women stood up, making their way to the kitchen. Rhea glanced at the speaker and asked, “Do you mind if I put on some music?”

Liv grinned. “Is it 70’s? ‘Cause Dom was telling me how Jey was playing Al Green the other day, saying you brought out the romantic in him.”

Rhea laughed. “You know it’s 70’s.”

Liv shook her head fondly. “You two are so good for each other.”

Rhea scrolled through her playlist and played More Than a Woman by The Bee Gees. As the upbeat rhythm filled the kitchen, the women began preparing breakfast, Liv humming along while Rhea danced lightly.

Upstairs, Jey stood in front of the mirror, pulling off his sleep shirt. His eyes lingered on the scar on his shoulder, a painful reminder of the shooting. He exhaled deeply, pushing the memory aside, and slipped on a fresh shirt.

When he made his way downstairs, he paused at the kitchen entrance. Rhea was singing softly to the song, swaying as she worked, and Liv was laughing along. The scene filled him with warmth.

Rhea spotted him and smiled, gesturing with her hand. “Come here, papi’.”

Jey grinned and walked over, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. “Y’all got the Bee Gees vibe goin’ strong, huh?”

Rhea leaned back against him. “Always. You know I love this song.”

Liv smirked as she flipped the eggs. “Your girl’s got good taste, Jey.”

Rhea turned in Jey’s arms, pulling him into a slow sway with her. “Dance with me,” she whispered.

Jey chuckled but followed her lead, swaying to the rhythm. “Anything for you, baby.”

Despite the scars and nightmares, moments like these reminded them both of the love and strength they shared.

—

As everyone sat down to enjoy breakfast, the door to the house creaked open. Jaciyah, dressed sharply in a blue polo collared shirt, blue jeans, and white Jordans, walked down the stairs. Jey glanced up from his plate and raised an eyebrow at his son’s attire.

“Where you going?” Jey asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

Jaciyah paused, glancing at his dad before shrugging casually. “I’m ubering to church.”

Jey raised an eyebrow again, eyeing his son skeptically. “I don’t believe it.”

Jaciyah tried to walk past without saying much, but Jey’s suspicion grew. He followed Jaciyah to the front door, and before he could ask any more questions, Jaciyah opened it. To Jey’s surprise, a girl was standing outside, waving at Jaciyah from next to her Malibu.

“A girl?” Jey asked, voice laced with disbelief.

Jaciyah quickly replied, “It’s Demi’s sister, Daya. I’ll be back later, dad! I promise, I’m already late!” Without another word, Jaciyah ran out the door to meet her, leaving Jey to stand there, more confused than before.

Jey stood frozen for a moment, his mind buzzing. “Demi?” he muttered under his breath. The only Demi he knew was Rhea. He’d met Rhea’s sister before, so this had to be something different.

Rhea heard the door close. She looked up when Jey walked back inside, his expression puzzled.

“Well, was it an Uber?” she asked, as she reached for a piece of toast.

Jey shook his head slowly, still processing what had just happened. “Nah. It was some girl named Daya… Demi’s sister.”

Rhea and Jeyce exchanged a brief, silent glance. Jey noticed immediately. Something was off, and he could feel the tension building.

He turned his attention to his youngest son, Jeyce, who turned unusually quiet. Jey stared at him for a moment before asking, “Jeyce?”

Jeyce looked up, eyes wide, and immediately began pushing his steak around on his plate, avoiding his father’s gaze.

Rhea, sensing the growing discomfort in the room, reached over to place a comforting hand on Jeyce’s. “It’s okay, Jeyce. We won’t be mad.”

Jeyce squeezed his eyes shut, clearly struggling with what he was about to say. Then, in one breath, he blurted out, “Daya is Demi’s sister. Demi is my girlfriend. Jaciyah met Daya when she chaperoned mine and Demi’s date to the Smiths listening party this past Friday, and that’s why we needed your Mercedes. And I’m sorry I lied to you, dad, but Demi is my first girlfriend ever, and she’s so cool, and I like her laugh, and she loves Motionless in White, and she’s the best person ever.”

The room fell silent for a moment as Jey and Rhea processed the flood of information.

Jey blinked, his mouth opening and closing in shock. “Demi? Your first girlfriend?” His eyes turned to Rhea, seeking confirmation, but there was no denying it. The realization slowly dawned on him, and the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together.

Rhea sat back in her chair, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she looked at Jeyce. “I think if she loves Motionless in White, she is a keeper.” she said softly while smiling at Jey.

Jeyce visibly relaxed as his parents didn’t explode with anger, and the tension seemed to ease in the room. He looked down at his plate, still feeling a little nervous but relieved at the same time. “I just didn’t want to hide anything from you guys… I like her a lot.”

Jey sat back in his chair, still processing, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips as he shook his head. “You kids grow up too fast. First girlfriend, huh? Man, I can barely keep up.”

Rhea chuckled as well. “Well, at least it wasn’t a total surprise.” She gave Jeyce a wink. “Just be careful, okay? No rushing things.”

Jeyce nodded quickly, a small grin spreading across his face. “I won’t, promise.”

Rhea glanced at Jey. “What do you think, babe?”

Jey looked at Rhea for a moment before giving a small, approving nod. “I think as long as she treats you well, then I’m good with it.”

Jeyce grinned, relieved to have his parents’ approval, even if it was a little unexpected.

“So, Demi, huh?” Jey said with a smirk, clearly still adjusting to the news. “Guess I’ll have to meet this girl soon enough.”

Jeyce nodded eagerly. “You’ll like her, dad. She’s awesome.”

Rhea shot Jey a teasing look. “I already love her.”

The moment was lighthearted, but there was a sense of understanding settling between them. Life had its surprises, and this one wasn’t as bad as they thought.

—

Rhea sifted through the clothes in the closet, trying to decide what to wear for the mall outing. Her fingers ran over the fabric as she muttered to herself, considering what would be comfortable for a day of shopping, yet still casual enough to keep things lowkey. As she grabbed a denim jacket, she called out to Jey, who was in the bathroom.

“What are you and Dom going to do while me and Liv are at the mall?”

Jey’s voice echoed back from the bathroom, the sound of a hairdryer in the background. “Well, Jeyce said something about wanting to grab a record from this old band to impress Demi.”

Rhea laughed softly, shaking her head as she imagined their son trying to impress Demi with his music taste. “Don’t you think it’s cute?”

Jey’s laugh followed her words. “My boy is growing older.”

Rhea smiled as she turned, folding a shirt in her hands. “Well, in about seven more months, you’re going to be starting over.”

The comment made Jey pause. He stepped out of the bathroom, his hair freshly styled and his eyes sparkling with excitement. He crossed the room to her and leaned down, kissing her gently on the belly. Despite her being just ten almost eleven weeks along, the thought of their baby was already so real for him. His love for her and the little one inside her was boundless.

Rhea’s heart warmed as she ran her fingers through his hair, still feeling the weight of the moment. “You’re gonna come with to the ultrasound, right?” she asked, her voice soft but with a hint of concern.

“Of course, babe,” Jey replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I can’t wait for Friday.” He kissed her belly again, his smile wide as he spoke, “I can’t wait till you get big, babe.”

Rhea chuckled softly at his enthusiasm but couldn’t help but feel the reality of the pregnancy hit her. “Really?” she asked, teasing him. “I’m going to get stretch marks, and my feet are going to swell.”

Before she could continue, Jey stopped her, his expression serious, yet filled with affection. “And I’m going to love you every step of the way,” he said, looking into her eyes.

Rhea’s heart fluttered as she met his gaze, hearing those words still made her feel cherished. “You’re incredible, you know that?” she whispered, her fingers brushing over his chest.

Jey smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he pulled her close. “It’s all part of the journey, baby. I’m here for it all.”

Rhea leaned into him, closing her eyes for a moment as the world outside felt like it faded away. They were in this together. The ups and the downs, the stretch marks and the swelling feet — it was all part of the new chapter they were about to begin.

After a few seconds of silence, Rhea pulled back with a playful grin. “Alright, well, I need to finish getting dressed before Liv comes in here and starts complaining about how slow I’m being.”

Jey laughed and nodded. “Go on, I’ll check in with Jeyce. But just so you know…” He leaned in and whispered into her ear, “You’re beautiful, every way and every day.”

Rhea smiled softly, her heart full, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning back to her closet. “You better be ready for me to be glowing with this baby belly,” she teased, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Jey winked at her as he backed away toward the door. “Can’t wait.”

As the door closed behind him, Rhea sighed, her fingers lingering on the clothes in her closet. She was ready for this next chapter. And with Jey by her side, she knew they could handle anything that came their way.

—

Rhea reclined slightly in the massage chair, her feet soaking in warm water as the nail tech worked on her toes. She glanced over at Liv, who was kicking her legs slightly, clearly feeling the music playing in the shop.

“This isn’t shopping, Liv,” Rhea teased, her tone dry but affectionate.

Liv smirked, tilting her head like a mischievous cat. “Oh, c’mon, Rhea. This is essential maintnence. You think these toes just stay cute by themselves?”

The nail tech chuckled, and Liv winked at her. “She gets it,” Liv said, pointing dramatically at the tech. “We’re queens, babe, and queens don’t roll out looking busted.”

Rhea shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Liv grinned, leaning back and throwing her arms up theatrically. “And don’t you forget it!” She turned her attention back to the nail tech. “Make sure to give me the sparkliest polish you got. I want to blind people when I walk.”

Rhea snorted. “Subtle as always.”

Liv shrugged. “Subtle is boring.” She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Speaking of which, I can’t wait to rebuild my empire, you know.”

Rhea chuckled. “What exactly does rebuilding your empire entail?”

Liv’s eyes lit up as if she’d been waiting for this question. “Okay, first stop: Victoria’s Secret. Gotta keep Dom on his toes, you know what I’m saying?” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Then, Sephora, because a face like this deserves the best.” She gestured dramatically at herself. “And finally, maybe hit up Foot Locker for some kicks. My Converse are iconic, but a girl’s gotta have options.”

Rhea leaned back, crossing her arms. “That’s a lot of running around.”

Liv waved her off. “Please, you’re lucky I’m not dragging you to ten more stores. I’m being merciful.” She paused, her playful demeanor softening slightly. “Besides, after everything, a little retail therapy doesn’t hurt.”

Rhea nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Fair point.” She hesitated before adding, “I still can’t believe the car just… vanished after the accident.”

Liv’s playful smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flash of irritation. “Yeah, that’s some real Twilight Zone-level nonsense. One minute, we’re dealing with the crash, and the next, the car’s gone like it had somewhere better to be.” She rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Dom thinks it’s some big conspiracy.”

Rhea couldn’t help but laugh. “Dom and his conspiracy theories.”

Liv grinned. “He’s cute when he’s being a little weirdo, though, right?” She sighed, her tone shifting back to her usual playful self. “Anyway, enough about that. Let’s focus on getting you into some killer outfits too. You can’t let me outshine you, Rhea.”

Rhea smirked. “Oh, trust me, Liv. That’s never going to happen.”

Liv gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. “Oh, it’s on now, babe. Just wait until we hit the stores. You’ll be begging me for fashion advice.”

Rhea laughed, shaking her head. “We’ll see about that.”

After some shopping, while in Ulta, Liv received a call from Dominik as Rhea swatched lipsticks. Some time passed on and Liv slipped her phone back into her pocket, still chuckling as she glanced at Rhea. “Looks like I’m on a mission for Dom now. Dude can’t survive without me for five seconds.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, holding up a deep red lipstick. “Of course not. He probably panicked the second he realized his hair serum was in the car…”

Liv laughed, grabbing a couple of hair products for Dom. “You know it. Guy’s as high-maintenance as I am.” She tossed a bottle into her basket with flair. “But that’s why we work, ya know? Two divas in perfect harmony.”

Rhea smirked, swatching the lipstick on her hand. “Yeah, except you’re the queen, and he’s your loyal subject.”

Liv grinned mischievously. “Damn right.” She added a few more products to her basket. “He’s lucky I even take his calls while I’m shopping for me.”

—

Meanwhile, back in Titusville, Jon and Trinity were attempting to enjoy some quiet time at his father’s beach house. The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing backdrop, but Trinity’s mind was elsewhere.

Jon sat beside her on the couch, his hand gently rubbing her growing belly. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his voice full of concern.

Trinity sighed, her eyes distant. “I’m fine, just thinking.”

Jon leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple. “What’s on your mind?”

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I’ve just been thinking about everything that’s happened. Rhea, the baby… everything feels so heavy lately.”

Jon nodded, his own expression somber. “I know. It’s been a lot, but we’re getting through it.” He glanced out the window, where his cousins Jerome and Jacob were standing guard. “We’ve got family looking out for us.”

Trinity placed her hand over his. “I know, and I’m grateful. It’s just… I worry about Rhea. She’s been through so much, and now with the baby on the way, it’s like she doesn’t get a moment to breathe.”

Jon tightened his grip on her hand. “She’s tough, Trin. Tougher than most people I know. And she’s got Jey. He’s not gonna let her go through this alone.”

Trinity nodded, her expression softening slightly. “You’re right. But sometimes, even the strongest people need a break.”

Jon kissed her hand. “And you to babe.. now let’s just try to relax..”

Outside, Jerome and Jacob stood watch, their eyes scanning the beach for any signs of trouble. Jacob crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on a couple walking along the shore.

“Think anyone’s gonna try anything today?” Jerome asked, his tone light but watchful.

Jacob shook his head. “Doubt it. But if they do, they’ll regret it.”

Jerome smirked. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

—

The soft whistling continued as Luna’s tail wagged in excitement, her nose twitching at the familiar sound. She trotted eagerly toward the bushes where the figure waited, away from the security cameras that surrounded the yard and home, an eerie calm emitting them. The day was still, the neighborhood quiet, a vast difference compared to the storm brewing in the shadows.

The figure crouched down, their face hidden by a hood and dark sunglasses. Their gloved hand gently extended toward Luna, and the dog, ever trusting, sniffed at the offering—something wrapped in cheese. Luna nuzzled the small piece, her tongue flicking the cheese before swallowing it whole.

“Good girl,” the figure muttered with a twisted smile, watching Luna lap up the treat. “You’ve been a good companion, but you were never meant to be hers.”

The sago palm—the fatal plant—slipped into the dog’s stomach without hesitation. Luna didn’t seem to notice, blissfully unaware of the danger she was in, and continued to wander away after finishing her snack.

The figure stood slowly, their eyes never leaving Luna as the dog strolled aimlessly across the yard, her usual playful energy dimming. There was no immediate sign of harm, but the figure knew the poison would work its way through her system soon enough.

“She’ll never know what hit her,” the figure whispered coldly, their lips curling into a bitter grin.

Luna disappeared out of view behind the bushes, and the figure’s attention turned quickly. They darted toward the high fence, scaling it effortlessly and landing softly on the other side. The figure didn’t hesitate, sprinting toward the souped up, four by four, black truck parked just beyond the property line. The engine roared to life with an almost menacing sound as they slammed the gearshift into drive, tires screeching as they sped down the street.

The plan was in motion, and now the clock was ticking.

As the truck vanished into the distance, the figure’s thoughts turned inward, a cold resolve setting in. They weren’t going to wait until April, not now. Time was of the essence, and their target—Rhea—wouldn’t be prepared for what was to come.

[seongsangssbitch]

The Amazing Spiderman

pt 2

Synopsis: Yunho is Spiderman the city's savior and superhero who is also a little bit of a loser and is painfully in love with his best friend Mingi. What happens when his father's experiment goes terribly wrong transforming Yunho into a monster he despises?

Pairing: Spiderman! Yunho x Bestfriend! Mingi

Word count: 48k(total) 24k(This part)

Warning: Violence, blood, and angst, detailed rough sex smut, mind control, body control, lots and lots of cursing, daddy issues, mentioned death of a sibling, bones breaking, talk of paralysis.

NOTE: It's a happy ending guys don't worry. Also posted this early cuz I need to study help

@asherthehimbo i need your fully detailed reaction at every line, love you (this is a threat)

Yunho ran back home climbing up through his window as he threw his suit aside, the tattered remains of it hitting the floor with a dull thud. His chest heaved as he fought to contain the fury boiling inside him, his voice cracking as he yelled, "We don't kill people! I'm Spider-Man! I don't know what twisted planet you come from, you filthy parasite, but here, we don't kill people!"

The symbiote remained silent, coiling within him, its presence humming with amusement, as if Yunho's outburst was nothing but a childish tantrum. Before he could even catch his breath, his bedroom door flew open, his father's face etched with a mixture of anger and concern.

"What happened?" his father demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Shut up!" Yunho snapped, his hands moving faster than his thoughts as he lunged forward, gripping his father by the collar and pinning him against the wall. His father's eyes widened in shock, but Yunho's grip only tightened, his fingers pressing down as he struggled to contain the symbiote's insatiable urge to hurt.

Can I kill him? Venatus' voice slithered into his mind, a taunting, dark whisper in the depths of his consciousness. The words sent a jolt through Yunho, amplifying his anger and feeding off his exhaustion.

"No. You. Can't!" Yunho hissed, shoving his father away with enough force that he stumbled back, glaring in a mix of fear and disbelief as Yunho slammed the door shut, locking it with trembling hands. He turned back, voice low and dripping with venom, speaking only to the creature inside him. "Listen here, Venatus. I don't care what you think you know, or what you think you can make me do—but I know how to kill you. And if you so much as make me hurt Mingi or force me to do something I can't come back from, I swear I'll throw myself off this balcony. I'll end both of us."

You wouldn't dare, Venatus sneered, a dark, mocking chuckle echoing in his mind, as though it found the mere suggestion laughable.

Yunho swallowed, stepping out onto the balcony, the cold air prickling against his skin. He glanced over the edge, his heart pounding as he looked down at the empty street below. "Try me," he whispered, his voice firm despite the tremor in his chest. He climbed onto the railing, arms spread for balance as he stared into the abyss below. His pulse quickened, each beat reminding him just how close he was to the edge.

You can't be serious...

"Test me one more time," he said, his voice steady as steel. "And you'll find out."

The symbiote's presence was silent, the amusement drained away, replaced by an edge of something Yunho hadn't felt from it before. Fear.

Yunho felt the icy rush of air against his skin as he plummeted downward, refusing to summon the symbiote's tendrils, refusing to let it take control. For a fleeting moment, there was only the void and his resolve to defy the creature inside him.

But just as the ground below seemed terrifyingly close, his fall stopped with a sudden jolt. His hand was caught in a fierce, desperate grip. Yunho looked up in shock, his heart racing as he saw Mingi leaning precariously out from the balcony above, fingers clenched around Yunho's wrist with everything he had.

"Mingi!" Yunho's voice cracked with disbelief and fear as he felt Mingi's hand tighten. Sweat glistened on Mingi's brow, his arm muscles trembling with strain. He was stretched almost fully over the ledge, his body teetering on the edge as he struggled to hold onto Yunho's weight.

"I... I can't pull us both back, Yunho," Mingi stammered, his voice strained as he gritted his teeth, his own weight beginning to slip further. "But If I... if I let go, we're both going down."

A sickening realization washed over Yunho: if he didn't act fast, Mingi would fall right along with him. Every instinct screamed at him to do something, anything, to save the person he loved most. Mingi's terrified eyes locked onto his, filled with unwavering trust.

Then, in his mind, the symbiote's voice cut through the panic, its tone stripped of its usual playfulness. Okay, deal here, spidey boy, it said, an edge of genuine urgency in its voice. I help save your boyfriend, and you don't kill us. Agreed?

Yunho barely registered the words before he mentally relented. He didn't care about anything else right now but saving Mingi. He felt the tendrils of the symbiote extend from his own arm, snaking around Mingi's torso and pulling them both back from the edge.

Once they were safely on the floor, Yunho pulled Mingi close, clutching him with a desperation he hadn't felt before. He looked down, noticing the symbiote's tendrils retracting, as if satisfied that it had kept its end of the bargain. In that moment, Yunho sensed something different—a strange, tentative understanding. For once, the symbiote wasn't an enemy—it was something more complex, something that was learning, maybe even beginning to understand why Yunho cared so much.

Thank you... thank you... Yunho muttered inwardly, hoping Venatus could feel his gratitude. The symbiote remained silent, but Yunho sensed something in its stillness—a quiet acceptance.

"What were you... why would you do that, Yunho?" Mingi's voice broke through the silence, barely above a whisper, raw and trembling with pain. The worry etched in Mingi's gaze struck deeper than Yunho had anticipated, making him swallow hard, the weight of guilt pressing down on him.

"I was... I was trying to handle something on my own," Yunho murmured, looking down at the floor, his voice thick with regret. "And I got in over my head."

Mingi exhaled slowly, a pained understanding in his expression. He reached out, his hand settling on Yunho's shoulder with a steadiness that grounded him. "You don't have to handle things alone, Yuyu," Mingi said softly. "Whatever's going on... I'll be here. I'll help you. But don't ever scare me like that again."

The words struck Yunho to his core, melting the defenses he'd been holding up since Venatus entered his life. Mingi's unwavering support, his faith in him despite the fear and confusion—it was more than Yunho felt he deserved, and it shook something loose within him. He pulled Mingi into his arms, clinging to him like a lifeline, feeling the sting of tears he hadn't realized he was holding back.

In the quiet, as he held Mingi close, Yunho heard Venatus murmur reluctantly, You know... he really is special.

He's mine, Yunho shot back firmly, a protectiveness sparking within him. And to his surprise, he felt the symbiote chuckle—a soft, almost amused sound, lacking its usual menace.

Okay, spidey boy, Venatus replied, settling back within him, almost as if acknowledging the boundary Yunho had just drawn.

They stayed like that for a moment, locked in a quiet embrace, as the weight of Yunho's secret and the reality of what he'd almost done hung between them. He could feel Mingi's heartbeat against his own, steady and calming, grounding him back into the world he nearly tried to leave. For the first time since Venatus had come into his life, he felt like he wasn't facing it all alone.

Eventually, Mingi pulled back, studying Yunho with gentle but searching eyes. "Yunho, I don't know everything that's going on with you," he said quietly, his voice calm and resolute, "but if you're in some kind of trouble—if you're... dealing with things that are bigger than you can handle alone—you need to let me in."

Yunho wiped his eyes and managing a shaky smile. "I'm sorry. I just... things have been... complicated," he said, struggling to find words that wouldn't terrify Mingi but would give him some glimpse of what he'd been going through.

Mingi reached for Yunho's hand, squeezing it with quiet strength. "Then let me help you with that," he said simply. "You don't have to carry it all by yourself."

Yunho glanced away, swallowing the knot in his throat. "I'm not sure how much you can help with this," he admitted. "It's... it's something I can't exactly control."

Mingi tilted his head, studying Yunho with a gentle resolve. "Maybe I don't have to understand everything to be there for you. Just... promise me you'll try to stay safe, alright? No more jumping off balconies."

Yunho's lips twitched in a faint smile, a bittersweet warmth settling over him. "Deal."

As Mingi released his hand, Yunho could feel Venatus stirring in the background, but this time there was no pressure, no intrusion. The symbiote felt more subdued, as though it was observing him, silently absorbing the connection he shared with Mingi. You're serious about him, Venatus remarked, a note of curiosity softening its usual icy tone.

More than you know, Yunho replied firmly. And as he sat alongside Mingi, he felt the symbiote pull back, an unspoken truce settling between them.

That night, as Yunho lay in bed, Venatus's voice drifted into his mind, softer than ever before. We're... partners, right? I help you, you help me?

The symbiote's words struck him as odd, even vulnerable. He hadn't thought of Venatus as anything other than a constant threat in his life—a power trying to bend his will. But now, Yunho felt a strange understanding between them.

Yeah, Yunho replied, surprised by the gentleness in his own voice. But there are limits. I won't let you hurt the people I love.

Fair enough, so what's the deal with your father, he's been looking at you like a prey every time you come infront of him

Yunho tensed, feeling Venatus's curiosity like a light prodding in the back of his mind. The symbiote's question lingered, uncomfortably close to secrets he'd buried deep, even from himself. He hesitated, considering how much to share. But Venatus was part of him now, a presence he couldn't ignore, and maybe... maybe an ally he could start to trust.

"My father..." Yunho started, barely able to meet even his own thoughts head-on. "He's always been a controlling man. But recently, it's been more than that. He—" Yunho took a steadying breath. "He wants to use you. To control us both. He sees me as a tool, something he can manipulate."

There was a pause before Venatus replied, and when it did, Yunho thought he detected a thread of anger woven through its usual curiosity. He thinks he can control me, Venatus murmured, the words edged with resentment.

"He thinks he can control everything," Yunho said bitterly. "Even my life. He never cared about what I wanted. To him, I'm just a means to an end."

Venatus fell silent again, but Yunho sensed something shifting in the symbiote—a kind of solidarity, almost. "You know..." Venatus began slowly, "in my world, we chose our hosts. Not just anyone could bond with us. It had to be someone we respected, someone we trusted to let us thrive. Your father... he would never have been chosen."

Yunho found himself smiling a little at that. It was strange, even surreal, to feel this kind of kinship with Venatus, this creature that had once terrified him. "Maybe... maybe we can be partners, after all," Yunho said, finally allowing himself to imagine that he didn't have to do this alone.

Then it's settled, Venatus replied, sounding almost pleased. No one controls us. Not your father, not anyone.

"You know if i were to allow you to kill one person it would be my father" Yunho said

I can kill your father? Venatus's excitement was almost palpable, a dark eagerness echoing through Yunho's mind that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Easy there," Yunho replied, his voice firm but tinged with a strange kind of humor. "That's not an invitation—more like... a hypothetical."

Hypothetical, Venatus echoed, sounding both disappointed and intrigued. But you're saying he's... a problem.

Yunho paused, looking out his window at the dark, empty street below. His father had always been more than just a problem. He was an oppressive force in Yunho's life, a shadow constantly looming over him, trying to pull the strings. But he wasn't ready to cross that line—not yet, anyway.

"Look, I can handle him," Yunho said. "I just need to keep you under control so things don't... escalate." He hesitated, then added, "And it's not like I'm willing to go to jail over him. That's the last thing I need right now."

You're afraid of the consequences, then, Venatus mused, a note of understanding creeping into its voice. But you'd want him out of your life if you could... permanently.

Yunho clenched his fists, fighting down the truth that surged up with Venatus's words. "Yeah... maybe. But that doesn't mean I'll let you do it."

Understood, Venatus replied, almost purring, as if savoring the idea. But if you change your mind... you know where to find me.

Yunho felt the chill of Venatus's presence settle back into the depths of his mind, almost like a loyal but deadly weapon waiting to be wielded. He smirked slightly, feeling a newfound confidence. He'd made it clear who was calling the shots, and for now, that was enough.

"Besides Mingi would hate me if im a murderer"

Ignore your weak ass boyfriend, Venatus said

Yunho glared at the air in anger "Shut up"

The intensity of his voice made Venatus groan

"Wow i just learned how to punish you," Yunho said and chuckled

Venatus went silent for a beat, and Yunho felt a flicker of surprise echo back from the symbiote. You're bluffing, it finally said, though there was a faint tremor of uncertainty in its tone.

"Oh, am I?" Yunho challenged, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Seems like I've finally got the upper hand on you, Venatus." He paused, letting his voice drop to a whisper. "So unless you want me barking orders every five minutes, maybe you should keep those smart remarks about Mingi to yourself."

The symbiote let out a grumbling sound, an almost petulant sigh echoing in Yunho's mind. Fine, it muttered, the reluctance clear. But I still think you could do better than that clingy human.

Yunho clenched his jaw, fighting back the urge to shout, but he held his ground, his grip over his own mind stronger than before. "Mingi is not 'clingy,' and he's more than 'just a human.' He's... well, he's my anchor." His voice softened. "And whether you like it or not, he's here to stay."

Fine, Venatus replied, the defeat in its tone almost amusing. I suppose I'll tolerate him, for now.

Yunho's smile widened, feeling a small, victorious thrill surge through him. He'd come to realize that with Venatus, power wasn't just about brute strength or control—it was about a partnership, a strange and delicate dance of boundaries. "Good. Because we're in this together. But remember... no hurting the people I care about."

The symbiote shifted again, a feeling of resignation passing through him.

Understood, Spidey Boy, it replied, almost affectionately, and for the first time, Yunho thought he heard a hint of something like loyalty in Venatus's voice.

Yunho let out a soft, breathy laugh, amused by the shift in their dynamic. He let himself relax, leaning back into the comfort of his bed as he felt the weight of the day start to lift, if only a little.

"You're a good boy, aren't you?" Yunho murmured, teasing lightly. There was something endearing about this odd, twisted creature now residing in his head. It had pushed him to his limits, twisted his perception of right and wrong, but here it was—shifting, like a child trying to be good, trying to please him.

Venatus's voice took on a purring quality, low and almost content. I am not a dog, Spidey Boy, it replied, but there was a noticeable lack of venom in its tone. The typical growl was replaced with something more... playful. But, I suppose... I do like being appreciated.

Yunho's lips quirked into a mischievous grin as he toyed with the idea. "Aww, you're like a little doggy, aren't you? Just a big, powerful puppy, following orders and protecting its owner," he cooed, his voice light but teasing. He could practically feel Venatus's annoyance simmering beneath the surface, but there was something else there too—reluctant acceptance, maybe.

The symbiote's response was a low growl, but there was no real malice behind it, just a trace of embarrassment. I'm not a puppy, you idiot, it muttered, though Yunho could hear the faintest hint of amusement in the words. I am a force, Spidey Boy. I'm far more than your pet.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Venatus," Yunho replied, his tone light and teasing. "But you can't deny, you're a bit of a softie when it comes to me."

I'll show you what happens when I get soft, Venatus muttered, a dark chuckle in its voice. Don't get too comfortable, Spidey Boy.

Yunho smiled, his mind spinning with the possibilities of where this strange partnership might take him. He knew he couldn't afford to get too attached

"Yeah, yeah," Yunho muttered to himself, settling into the bed with a sigh. "We'll see how long you can keep up this 'loyal' act, Venatus. But for now... let's get some rest."

I'm always watching, Spidey Boy, Venatus's voice echoed in his mind one last time before fading into an almost peaceful silence.

For the first time in days, Yunho allowed himself to simply breathe, his chest rising and falling slowly as he let the tension melt away. He could almost forget about the chaos he was wrapped up in—the mess of his life, his father's threats, the symbiote lurking within him.

But just as the calm started to take over, a soft creak from the door shattered the quiet.

Yunho's head snapped up, his heart skipping a beat. The door swung open, and there stood Mingi, grinning and holding two tubs of ice cream in his hands.

"Your mom let me come in," Mingi said casually, shrugging as if this were the most normal thing in the world. Without waiting for a response, he walked in and sat down next to Yunho on the bed, placing the ice cream between them.

Yunho blinked, his mind racing. Mingi? Here? His eyes widened in surprise, but it quickly melted into a smile, both relieved and grateful for the sudden comfort Mingi's presence brought.

"Wait—how did you even get in here?" Yunho managed to say, his voice still thick with surprise. The last thing he had expected was for Mingi to show up in his room, especially after everything that had just happened. But as Mingi casually dug into the ice cream, not even bothering to answer Yunho's question, Yunho couldn't help but laugh softly.

"I have my ways," Mingi said, still grinning, before scooping a large spoonful of ice cream into his mouth. "You look like you need a break. Plus, you were being... kind of a drama queen earlier."

Yunho's lips curled into a small smirk. "Drama queen?" he repeated, his voice light but teasing. "I don't think I was being that bad. I was—"

"About to jump off your balcony," Mingi interrupted, his tone turning serious, though his eyes still held a flicker of concern. "You can't keep doing this to yourself, Yunho. I don't care what's going on, but you can't isolate yourself like this. You don't have to fight everything alone."

Yunho opened his mouth to say something, but the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to argue, to tell Mingi that he had to do it on his own, that the symbiote was something he couldn't bring anyone into, but instead, he found himself simply looking at Mingi, his heart heavy.

Mingi wasn't just his best friend. He was everything. The person who had stood by his side, who had never once turned away, who had always offered a hand when Yunho was ready to pull away from the world. He was the one person who kept Yunho grounded.

"Mingi," Yunho whispered, his voice low, filled with unspoken gratitude and something deeper. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to drag you into this."

Mingi looked at him, his expression softening. "You don't have to apologize, Yunho. I'm here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, okay?"

Yunho nodded, feeling a knot in his chest loosen just a little. "Yeah... together."

As they both dug into the ice cream in silence, the weight of everything still hung between them, but in that moment, with Mingi by his side, Yunho felt a little less alone in the world. There was still the darkness of the symbiote in his mind, but Mingi's presence was a light he couldn't deny, something he could hold onto, no matter what.

As the ice cream containers lay empty between them, a comfortable silence settled over Yunho and Mingi. Mingi leaned back, stretching out lazily, but his eyes never left Yunho. The tension from earlier seemed to dissipate as they shared this quiet, intimate moment. Mingi shifted, subtly moving closer, his warmth just a little too close to Yunho's, and his breath tickled the air around Yunho's ear.

Yunho felt his heartbeat quicken as Mingi gently cupped his face with one hand, his thumb brushing over the smooth skin of Yunho's cheek. Slowly, Mingi leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Yunho's cheek. The touch was light, tender—his lips lingering just long enough to leave a faint warmth on Yunho's skin. Yunho's breath caught in his throat, and his gaze flickered to Mingi's, searching for some hint of what this meant, but Mingi only offered him a smile, soft and reassuring.

Before Yunho could say anything, Mingi kissed his neck, the coolness of his lips contrasting with the heat coursing through Yunho's veins. The action was gentle but possessive, as if marking his territory in a way that felt both comforting and thrilling. Yunho's pulse spiked, the intensity of the moment taking him by surprise, leaving him breathless.

"Min..." Yunho whispered, his voice barely audible as he instinctively tilted his head to give Mingi more access.

But just as Yunho closed his eyes, lost in the sensation, a familiar, mocking voice echoed in the back of his mind, making his skin crawl.

Look like you about to get some tonight, Spidey Boy , Venatus sneered, its words dripping with sarcasm. You gonna let him have you like that? You getting soft on me, huh? He's got you all worked up.

Yunho almost laughed in disbelief.

Shut up, Venatus , he muttered under his breath, trying to focus on Mingi, but the symbiote's voice was unrelenting, a steady stream in the back of his mind.

Mingi pulled back slightly, sensing the shift in Yunho's energy. He frowned, a look of concern crossing his features. "Yunho? What's going on? You look like you've just been distracted by something."

Yunho blinked, his mind racing. His gaze locked with Mingi's, and despite the chaos in his head, he forced a smile, though it was a little strained. "It's nothing. Just... tired, I guess. It's been a long day."

Mingi's expression softened but didn't fully buy it. His hand lingered on Yunho's shoulder, comforting, but not pressing. "You don't have to hide it from me, Yuyu. I'm here, remember?"

Yunho felt a lump form in his throat. He wasn't sure how to explain to Mingi that his mind had become a battleground—not just for his own sanity but for something that he was only just beginning to understand. "I know," he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. "I just... I don't want to be a burden. I don't want this to affect us."

Aw, come on, Spidey Boy. You're not a burden , Venatus cut in, its tone uncharacteristically warm.

Yunho couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips. The symbiote, in its own way, had become something of a strange ally, even if it still made his skin crawl sometimes. But right now, it didn't feel like the invasive, menacing force it once was. It was just... Venatus.

"I guess we're both a little messed up, huh?" Yunho chuckled softly, glancing at Mingi, a teasing glint in his eyes.

Mingi's brow furrowed, clearly confused by the strange turn in Yunho's words. He paused, eyeing Yunho with growing concern. "Who are you talking to, Yunho? Seriously, you're freaking me out."

Yunho froze for a second, his mind racing as Venatus's voice lingered in the background, unnervingly loud for anyone but him to hear. It took a beat for him to collect himself before he masked his unease with a smooth, reassuring smile.

"Ignore it, baby," Yunho murmured, his voice low and calming as he leaned forward, brushing his lips gently over Mingi's.

Mingi sighed, his body relaxing under the kiss, though his expression still carried a touch of worry. But he didn't pull away. He never did. Not when it was like this.

[M]

Rough sex skip to the next M if uncomfortable

As their lips met, the voice in Yunho's head stirred once again, more insistent than before.

Your babe's kinda cute, Yunho. It's going to make me hard. Let's fuck him. Please, please, please.

Yunho's stomach twisted in a way he couldn't explain. He pulled away from Mingi just slightly, but kept his hand on the back of Mingi's neck, holding him close. His eyes were soft but firm as he whispered, "Calm down, Venatus."

It was like an annoying, sulking presence inside him, but with every word, Yunho could feel Venatus's hunger becoming more demanding. The symbiote wasn't used to being ignored.

He tried to focus on Mingi, blocking out Venatus's voice as best he could, though it was like a nagging whisper that wouldn't quite fade away. Yunho leaned in once more, pressing a gentle kiss to Mingi's forehead, his heart beating quicker as Mingi's hands found his sides, gently pulling him back into the moment.

Yunho, please... something. I need a release.

The words stirred a heat in Yunho's chest that he didn't want to acknowledge. Venatus was always like this—pressing, demanding, pushing him to give in, to let go of control. But Yunho wasn't going to let the symbiote win. Not tonight. Not with Mingi here, holding him in a way that made everything feel right, like there was something real, something worth fighting for.

Yunho's grip on Mingi's waist tightened just slightly as he pulled away from the kiss, trying to steady his breath. "Calm down," he muttered under his breath, the words meant for both himself and the symbiote. 

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

But Venatus wasn't interested in quieting down. It was hungry, wanting to break through Yunho's restraint, to push him past his limits. Yunho could feel the shift in his mind as the symbiote's desire grew more demanding, wrapping around his thoughts like a chain.

Mingi's voice broke through, soft and full of concern. "Yunho? Are you okay?" He rested his hand on Yunho's chest, feeling the erratic pace of his heartbeat. Mingi's eyes searched his face, a gentle but clear question in his gaze.

Yunho's breath caught in his throat. "Yeah, I'm fine," he said quickly, but even he could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. He couldn't explain it. He couldn't tell Mingi what was happening inside his head. Not when Mingi was looking at him like that—so trusting, so open.

Look at his eyes, Yunho. So beautiful. Do something.

Yunho could feel the heat rising in his chest, spreading through his veins. His pulse quickened. He wanted to pull Mingi closer, feel the warmth of his body, taste him, but there was something else—something dark and restless whispering in his mind, urging him forward.

Mingi's fingers lightly traced along Yunho's jaw, and the touch was so gentle, so tender, that Yunho could hardly breathe. His body reacted to Mingi instinctively, every nerve alight with need. But then the symbiote stirred inside him, making everything feel sharper, more intense.

Do it. Take control.

Yunho swallowed hard, trying to suppress the heat, trying to hold back the wave of desire that surged through him. Mingi was too close, too perfect, his soft lips parted slightly as he waited, his eyes heavy with the same longing that Yunho could feel pulsing through him.

Yunho's hands moved almost of their own accord, sliding up Mingi's back, pulling him closer until their chests were pressed together. He could feel Mingi's heartbeat against his own, the steady thrum that matched his own racing pulse. The space between them seemed to vanish, and the air between them felt thick with something undeniable.

"Yunho..." Mingi whispered, his breath warm against Yunho's ear. His hands found Yunho's chest, pushing gently, as if testing the waters. His lips brushed Yunho's neck, soft and teasing, sending a shiver down Yunho's spine.

Yunho's hands found Mingi's waist, pulling him even closer as his lips met Mingi's in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. He felt Mingi's hands slip into his hair, tugging him closer, deepening the kiss. It was slow at first as if they were both savoring the moment, unsure where it would go but unwilling to stop.

But Yunho's mind was still a battlefield, the symbiote pushing against his thoughts, urging him to take more, to control the situation. The fight to keep himself grounded was harder than ever, the craving inside him intensifying.

Mingi's hands moved down Yunho's chest, his fingertips grazing the fabric of his shirt as if he could feel the tension in Yunho's body. When their lips finally parted, Mingi's eyes were hazy, filled with something Yunho hadn't seen before—raw desire, mixed with trust.

"Yunho... are you sure about this?" Mingi asked, his voice low but steady, his hands still resting on Yunho's chest, as though searching for confirmation.

Yunho's breath hitched at the question. He wasn't sure about anything anymore. But as he looked into Mingi's eyes—so open, so vulnerable—he knew one thing for certain: He couldn't let the symbiote control this. Not now. Not when Mingi needed him to be present, to be real.

He pulled Mingi closer, his lips pressing against his again, this time with more urgency. "I'm sure," Yunho muttered against Mingi's lips, his hands working quickly to remove the barrier of clothing between them, feeling the heat of Mingi's skin against his own.

The sensation of Mingi's body under his hands sent a surge of heat through him. His mind was hazy, every thought clouded with the need to feel more, to lose himself in the moment. The symbiote was still there, still pushing at the edges of his mind, but Yunho drowned it out with the feeling of Mingi's body beneath his, the softness of his skin, the way his lips fit so perfectly against his own.

His body feels so soft against yours, Yunho. Do it. Take his shirt off.

The voice in his mind wasn't as harsh this time. It was almost coaxing, like a familiar temptation. The heat of the moment tugged at him, urging him to follow through on the desire building inside him.

But Yunho's breath stuttered as he pulled away just slightly, his forehead resting against Mingi's as he tried to ground himself. Mingi's breath was quick, matching his own. They were both caught in this raw, vulnerable moment, and Yunho couldn't shake the feeling that if he let go completely if he followed the pull, it wouldn't be just about them. It would be about him, about losing control.

He didn't want to lose control—not now, not with Mingi, who trusted him so completely.

"Mingi..." Yunho whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He wasn't sure if it was the weight of his own desire or the turmoil in his mind, but the words felt heavier than they should. "I—" He stopped, unsure how to express everything crashing inside him.

Mingi's hands slid up his arms, his touch light and tender, as if grounding him. "Yunho," Mingi murmured, his voice a quiet reassurance, "It's okay. We don't have to rush." His lips brushed against Yunho's jaw, soft and reassuring. "I'm here."

Yunho closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He wanted to give in to this, to Mingi, to the undeniable connection between them, but there was a war raging inside him—a war between the love he felt for Mingi and the control the symbiote sought to take over.

His lips found Mingi's again, but this time, the kiss was slower, gentler, as Yunho tried to steady himself, pushing aside the darker urges within him. He let the feeling of Mingi's hands, the warmth of his skin, ground him. He didn't need to give in to everything the symbiote wanted. He had to stay present, for Mingi. For them.

Yunho's hands trembled slightly as they slipped under Mingi's shirt, the fabric pulling taut over his shoulders as Yunho gripped it. The room was thick with tension, every second stretching out into an eternity of anticipation. Venatus's voice was a constant hum in the back of his mind, urging him to take control, to let go and lose himself in the moment.

But Yunho couldn't. Not entirely. Not when Mingi's eyes were locked on his, so full of trust and desire. He wanted to be present for this, to savor every touch, every breath, every word. The symbiote's demands could wait. For now, there was only Mingi.

Mingi's fingers dug into Yunho's biceps, his grip firm but gentle, grounding Yunho in the reality of the moment. "Yunho," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "You don't have to be scared. I'm here."

Yunho swallowed hard, his throat dry. He wasn't scared—not exactly. It was more like a controlled chaos inside him, a storm he was desperately trying to navigate without capsizing. But Mingi's words, the warmth of his body against his own, helped anchor him.

Slowly, deliberately, Yunho lifted the hem of Mingi's shirt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of Mingi's belly. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through him, making his breath hitch. He pulled the shirt up, revealing more of Mingi's torso, the muscles tensing under Yunho's touch. Mingi's chest rose and fell with each breath, his heart beating fast against Yunho's palm.

"You're beautiful," Yunho whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He meant it—every word. Mingi was perfect in his eyes, a light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.

Mingi's cheeks flushed at the compliment, his gaze dropping to Yunho's lips. "You make me feel..." He trailed off, searching for the right words, but the intensity of the moment left him speechless. Instead, he leaned in, capturing Yunho's lips in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, fueled by the unspoken connection between them. Yunho's hands roamed down Mingi's back, feeling the curve of his spine, the flex of his muscles as he pressed closer. He could feel the heat of Mingi's skin, the way his body responded to every touch, every movement. It was intoxicating.

Venatus stirred within him, its presence a heavy weight in his mind.

Take him, Yunho. Show him who's in charge. Make him yours. 

The symbiote's voice was a seductive whisper, tempting him to give in to the darker desires bubbling beneath the surface.

Yunho broke the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked into Mingi's eyes. "I want to..." He hesitated, his voice strained, "I want to make you feel good."

Mingi's eyes darkened with lust, his hands sliding down to cup Yunho's ass, pulling him closer. "Then do it," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Show me."

The challenge in Mingi's tone pushed Yunho over the edge. He needed this—needed to assert some semblance of control, to prove to both himself and Venatus that he was still in charge. With a growl, he grabbed Mingi's hips, flipping them so that Mingi was pressed against the bed, his hands pinned above his head.

Mingi gasped, his eyes wide with surprise, but there was no fear in them—only excitement. "Fuck, Yunho," he breathed, his voice thick with desire. "Do it."

Yunho didn't need to be told twice. His hands moved swiftly, undoing the button of Mingi's jeans, his fingers working the zipper down with practiced ease. He shoved the denim down Mingi's legs, exposing the boxer shorts that clung to his erection. The sight made Yunho's mouth water, his own cock straining against his pants.

Without hesitation, Yunho pulled down Mingi's boxers, freeing his hard length. Mingi's cock sprang up, bobbing with each quickened breath, and Yunho's hand wrapped around it, giving it a slow, deliberate stroke.

Mingi groaned, his back arching off the bed, his hips bucking into Yunho's hand. "God, Yunho... yes..."

Yunho's grip tightened, his strokes firmer, more insistent. He watched Mingi's face, noting every flicker of pleasure, every shiver that passed through his body. It was intoxicating, knowing he had this kind of power over Mingi—knowing that he could bring him to the edge with just a few simple movements.

Venatus's voice echoed in his mind, a mocking laugh.

You love this, don't you? The power? The control? Admit it.

Yunho gritted his teeth, pushing the symbiote's taunts aside. This wasn't about power. It was about Mingi—about making sure he felt good, about showing him that he was wanted, cherished.

"Look at me," Yunho commanded, his voice rough with strain. "Don't close your eyes."

Mingi obeyed, his gaze locking onto Yunho's, filled with raw, unfiltered desire. "Harder, Yunho," he begged, his voice breaking on the last word. "Please... harder..."

Yunho's grip tightened even more, his strokes faster, more forceful. He could see the tension building in Mingi's body, the way his muscles tensed, the way his breath hitched with each thrust of his hips. It was exhilarating, watching Mingi fall apart beneath his touch.

"That's it," Yunho growled, his voice low and threatening. "Take it princess. Take everything I give you."

Mingi's eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, he came, his release spilling over Yunho's hand, hot and slick.

Yunho watched him ride out his orgasm, his own body thrumming with the need to follow suit. But he held back, letting the moment stretch out, savoring the sight of Mingi's face, the way his chest heaved with each shuddering breath.

"Good boy," Yunho murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. "You did so well."

Mingi's eyes fluttered open, the haze of lust slowly clearing. "Yunho..." he started, his voice weak, vulnerable.

But before he could say anything more, Yunho leaned down, capturing his lips in a fierce, claiming kiss again. Mingi melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around Yunho's neck, pulling him closer. There was no resistance, no hesitation—just pure, unadulterated surrender.

Yunho slid his hand down, tracing the curve of Mingi's hip, his fingers finding the tender flesh of his thigh. He squeezed gently, enjoying the way Mingi's body responded to his touch.

"Spread your legs," Yunho commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

Mingi obeyed instantly, parting his thighs and opening himself up to Yunho's exploration. The vulnerability of the gesture made Yunho's heart race, his cock twitching with the need to claim him.

Venatus's voice was a low, approving murmur in the back of his mind.

Yes... take what's yours... mark him...

Yunho ignored the symbiote, focusing instead on the task at hand. He reached for the bedside drawer, pulling out a small bottle of lube. The cool liquid coated his fingers, and he wasted no time in spreading it over Mingi's entrance, slipping one finger inside.

Mingi gasped, his body tightening around Yunho's probing digit. "So... good..." he whispered, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Yunho added a second finger, scissoring them inside Mingi, stretching him open. He watched intently, noting how tightly Mingi clenched around him, the way his body reacted to every movement. It was a heady feeling, knowing he had this kind of control over such a powerful, confident person.

"You ready for me?" Yunho asked, his voice low and rough.

Mingi nodded, his eyes fluttering closed as he bit his lip. "Yes... please..."

Yunho withdrew his fingers, quickly coating his own cock with lube. He positioned himself at Mingi's entrance, pressing the tip against his tight ring of muscle.

"Look at me," Yunho commanded, his voice sharp. "Keep your eyes open."

Mingi obeyed, meeting Yunho's gaze with a mixture of fear and anticipation. The vulnerability in his eyes made something twist deep in Yunho's gut, but he pushed it aside, focused on the task at hand.

With one swift, decisive thrust, Yunho buried himself inside Mingi, filling him completely. Mingi cried out, his nails digging into Yunho's back, his body clenching tight around him.

Yunho paused, savoring the feeling of being enveloped by Mingi's warmth. "Relax," he murmured, his voice soothing despite the roughness of his actions. "Just breathe."

Mingi took a shaky breath, his body slowly loosening around Yunho. "Harder..." he begged, his voice hoarse with need. "Please... harder..."

Mingi cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure that left his voice hoarse. He could feel every inch of Yunho's cock filling him, stretching him wider than he ever imagined possible. The sensation was overwhelming, his body tense with the force of the penetration.

"Fuck, Mingi, you're so tight," Yunho groaned, his hands gripping Mingi's hips tightly as he began to move, slowly withdrawing before thrusting back in. Each stroke was deliberate, designed to maximize the friction between their bodies, to take control and claim Mingi as his own.

Mingi's breath came in ragged gasps, his body shuddering with each thrust. The pain began to fade, replaced by a growing wave of pleasure that pulsed through his core. His cock twitched, hard and desperate for release, but he held back, focusing on the sensation of Yunho inside him, filling him, owning him.

Yunho's movements grew more urgent, his pace increasing as he lost himself in the sensation of Mingi's body tightening around his cock. Venatus's influence was strong, the symbiote reveling in the dominance, urging Yunho to take what he wanted without restraint.

But Yunho fought to maintain control, his mind a battleground between his own desires and the symbiote's insatiable hunger. He needed to stay present, to remember why he was doing this—for Mingi, for them.

His hands moved to Mingi's chest, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he leaned down, capturing Mingi's lips in a bruising kiss. The taste of Mingi was intoxicating, his tongue tangling with Mingi's as they shared the same breath, the same moment of raw connection.

Mingi's moans were muffled against Yunho's mouth, his body arching up to meet each thrust. The sensation was maddening, the friction of Yunho's cock rubbing against his prostate with each powerful stroke. He could feel the pressure building, the imminent climax hovering just out of reach.

"Yunho... I... I'm gonna..." Mingi panted, his voice breaking as he struggled to hold on, to wait for Yunho to join him in the release.

"Let go, Mingi," Yunho growled against his lips, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. "Come for me, baby. Feel how good it is... how good I am..."

The words were enough to push Mingi over the edge. His body stiffened, his cock jerking as he spilled his seed onto his stomach, the orgasm ripping through him with brutal intensity. His walls clamped down on Yunho's cock, milking him with desperate need.

Yunho felt the tightness around his cock, the exquisite pressure as Mingi came undone beneath him. It was too much, the combination of Mingi's release and the symbiote's relentless drive pushing him past the point of no return. He gave one last, powerful thrust, burying himself deep inside Mingi as he roared his own release, spilling his seed deep within Mingi's channel.

The world blurred around them, the room fading into a haze of white-hot pleasure. Yunho collapsed onto Mingi, his weight pressing them both into the mattress as they rode out the aftershocks of their mutual climax.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sound the heavy breathing of two bodies spent and sated. Yunho's forehead rested against Mingi's shoulder, his lips pressed to the warm skin as he fought to catch his breath.

"Yunho..." Mingi whispered, his voice weak but full of emotion. "What... what just happened?"

"Shush" Yunho said and leaned forward again kissing Mingi harder, he didn't know why he left control of it but he could feel Venatus forming over his body.

He held Mingi up with his strong arms, laying his boyfriend on the floor before pulling his waist up, going lower and lower.

Yunho's tongue grew longer and thicker, slithering between Mingi's legs like a serpent. He lapped at Mingi's sensitive spots, driving the younger man wild with pleasure. Mingi moaned loudly, his hips bucking against Yunho's face as he tried to get closer to that magical tongue. Venatus's influence was strong, his symbiote body growing harder and more insistent with each passing moment.

Yunho's cock swelled, growing larger and more menacing as it pulsed with need. He positioned himself at Mingi's entrance again, his eyes locked on Mingi's as he prepared to take what he wanted. Mingi's eyes widened in curiosity as he watched his boyfriend look bigger, but Yunho silenced him with a fierce kiss.

"Trust me, Mingi," he growled, his voice thick with desire. "I'll make you feel things you've never felt before." And with that, Yunho thrust inside Mingi, his cock stretching the younger man's hole wide open again.

Mingi cried out in pain as Yunho softly stroked his hands trying to relax him, his eyes locked on Mingi's as he began to move. Each stroke was brutal, designed to claim Mingi as his own. The pain soon gave way to pleasure, Mingi's body shuddering with each thrust. Yunho's cock was like a living thing, pulsing and throbbing within Mingi's channel.

The symbiote's influence was overwhelming, driving Yunho to take what he wanted without mercy. He fucked Mingi relentlessly, his body a whirlwind of dark energy and raw desire. Mingi's moans grew louder, his body writhing beneath Yunho's.

He was lost in the pleasure, his mind a haze of ecstasy. Yunho's cock swelled even larger, his symbiote body reaching its peak. He whined in pleasure as he came, filling Mingi's channel with his seed. The symbiote's energy surged through Yunho's body, making him feel invincible. He pulled out of Mingi, his cock glistening with their combined fluids. Mingi lay on the floor, his body trembling with pleasure and pain.

[M]

END

Yunho leaned down, kissing him gently.

Something clicked inside Yunho's head as his eyes widened

"Mingi?" His voice was strained, barely above a whisper, as he slowly pulled away, the weight of his actions sinking in. "Fuck, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean..."

Yunho's eyes filled with remorse as he realized the gravity of his actions. He had lost control, allowing Venatus to take over his body and use Mingi in such a brutal way. He knew he had hurt Mingi, both physically and emotionally, and he felt terrible about it.

Mingi's eyes fluttered, his breath still shallow, but his lips curved slightly as if he were struggling to understand why Yunho was so shaken.

"Baby, I'm fine," Mingi said softly, his voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and warmth, still dazed but trying to offer comfort. His hand reached up to touch Yunho's cheek, gently brushing away the tears that had started to fall, though Yunho hadn't even realized they were there.

Yunho flinched at the touch, unable to meet Mingi's eyes. His entire body felt heavy with shame like he didn't deserve to be comforted after what had happened.

"Mingi, I..." He swallowed hard, struggling to put his feelings into words. "I didn't mean for any of this. I... I let Venatus take control. I hurt you. I didn't... I didn't even realize..."

"Who's Venatus?" Mingi asked sitting up straighter as he looked at his boyfriend confused

"Mingi, I..." Yunho stammered, his voice cracking as he fought to steady his emotions. He didn't want to scare Mingi, didn't want to lose him, but there was no way around it. He had to be honest, no matter how terrifying it was.

"Venatus..." Yunho whispered, barely able to say the name. His voice wavered, and his hands clenched in his lap as he forced himself to continue. "Venatus is... a part of me. An alien... symbiote." The words felt strange coming out of his mouth, like something unreal. "Remember when my dad pulled me from your house yesterday? I'll explain it later, but he... he administered something into me, some kind of alien... and now it's inside me. It's in my head. And I can't always control it."

Yunho looked away, not able to meet Mingi's gaze as the guilt washed over him again. He swallowed hard, the words a raw confession. "Sometimes... sometimes it takes control, Mingi. When that happens, I—I lose myself. I hurt people, Mingi. I don't even realize what's happening until it's over and by then... it's too late." His throat constricted as he struggled to choke back the emotion threatening to burst through. "And that's why I—"

His voice cracked, the last word barely leaving his lips as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. He couldn't finish. He didn't want to say it out loud. The thought of Mingi knowing what had happened, knowing the extent of his actions, made him feel like he was falling apart. His chest felt hollow, and his heart thudded painfully against his ribs.

Mingi was silent, staring at him with wide eyes, blinking in confusion as he processed what Yunho had just said. He was trying to understand, but the words seemed too surreal, too unbelievable.

"Wait... you've got a... what? A symbiote?" Mingi repeated, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern. "And... you didn't tell me about this?"

Yunho closed his eyes, rubbing his face in frustration. "I didn't know how Mingi. I didn't want to tell you like this. I didn't want to hurt you with it. But it's a part of me, okay? Sometimes, I can't control it. It... takes over, and I do things I never meant to." His voice lowered, the weight of the confession hanging in the air between them. "Things I never wanted to happen."

Mingi's eyes softened, but Yunho could still see the confusion in them. He wasn't sure what to say, how to fix this. His words felt hollow as they left his lips, but the shame was unbearable.

But then, as Yunho sat there, frozen in his guilt, a voice slithered into his mind, low and unsettling.

Stop crying, angel boy. I didn't do anything brutal to him. You're thinking of me in the worst ways. I'm not a monster. I only did something Mingi allowed, and you literally let me take control of you willingly. 

Venatus's words slithered through his thoughts, sharp and unsettling, cutting through Yunho's fragile state.

Yunho flinched, his hands curling into fists as his breath hitched. The symbiote's words only made him feel worse like it was twisting the knife in his chest.

"Mingi, I'm so sorry," Yunho repeated, his voice cracking, his eyes filled with a feeling of sorrow he couldn't explain. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I just... I'm scared, Mingi. Scared of what I might do."

But Mingi's hand reached out, gently pulling Yunho's face toward him. He was calm, his voice soft, even though his heart ached from the situation.

"Yunho, look at me," Mingi said, his voice tender but firm. "You didn't hurt me. Not really." His thumb traced over Yunho's cheek as he tried to calm him, his gaze steady but filled with worry. "I... I don't fully understand what you're going through, but I trust you, Yunho. I believe you. And I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen." His voice cracked a little as he added, "But you've got to stop blaming yourself for something that's out of your control."

Yunho shook his head, the weight of Venatus's presence still looming in his mind, making him feel even more broken. "I should have stopped it," Yunho whispered. "I should have been stronger. I shouldn't have let him control me like that. I hurt you, Mingi."

Mingi's gaze softened, his fingers brushing gently across Yunho's face as he sought to comfort him. He could see the turmoil swirling in Yunho's eyes—the raw pain of someone who had lost control, someone who had hurt the one person they loved most.

"You didn't, baby," Mingi said softly, his voice steady and calm as he stroked Yunho's cheek. His words held a reassurance that Yunho desperately needed. "You didn't force me into anything. And you listened, Yunho. I know you did." He paused, looking at Yunho with sincerity in his eyes, trying to ease the weight of the guilt. "If Venatus did take a hold of you, it's not like he's a bad guy. He... he took care of me. He didn't hurt me. He made sure I was okay."

Yunho blinked, taken aback by Mingi's words. He had expected anger, confusion, maybe even a sense of betrayal—but not this. Mingi's ability to see past the situation, to give the benefit of the doubt to something that Yunho found so terrifying, was overwhelming. Yunho could feel the pressure in his chest slowly easing, but there was still a lingering doubt that wouldn't go away.

See this, Yunho? Your boyfriend gets it. I am not a monster, 

Venatus's voice slithered through his mind, cold and unsettling as it broke through the tension.

Yunho flinched at the voice, but his reaction was different this time. The symbiote's words didn't send him spiraling into panic. He could hear them, but he didn't feel the same kind of control that had gripped him before. It was like he could hear it, yet he had more power to push back.

Mingi's eyes flicked up to Yunho's, concern deepening as he noticed the way his boyfriend's expression changed, how his eyes clouded with the battle between his own mind and Venatus's influence. He reached for Yunho's hand, grounding him.

"Yunho?" Mingi's voice was a whisper, soft and gentle. "Don't listen to him." He wasn't talking to the symbiote but to Yunho. "I know you. I know what you're capable of. You're not the same as him. You've always been there for me. And that means more than anything else."

Yunho looked at Mingi, the warmth in his gaze softening the pain in his chest. It was the first time he truly felt like he wasn't alone in this—Mingi wasn't pulling away, he wasn't scared. And that made all the difference.

"Mingi..." Yunho's voice cracked again, but this time it wasn't from guilt. It was a mix of relief and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. "I don't deserve you. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize anymore," Mingi replied softly, leaning in and pressing his forehead to Yunho's. "I understand now. You're not broken. You're just... struggling. And I'll be here. No matter what. We'll figure it out together."

Yunho closed his eyes, resting his head against Mingi's. For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that everything might actually be okay. The weight of Venatus's influence was still there, still lurking in the shadows of his mind, but with Mingi's steady presence beside him, it felt like he could breathe again. He wasn't alone in this battle.

And as the words lingered in the air between them, Yunho realized something that filled him with hope for the future: Mingi truly saw him, not just the darkness inside him, but the man he was, even in his brokenness.

That was all he needed.

The silence stretched between them, heavy but comfortable, and for a fleeting moment, Yunho thought maybe—just maybe—they would be okay. But then, Venatus's voice broke through the stillness, softer, almost remorseful.

Yunho... I'm sorry, but I didn't hurt Mingi. Not in any way... 

Venatus's words echoed in Yunho's mind, laced with an unexpected sincerity. 

I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I wasn't trying to hurt either of you. I never wanted to push you away.

There was a long pause before the voice continued, quieter, more vulnerable than before. 

I'm supposed to be your ally, Yunho. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I promise I'll never do something like this again. When you allowed me to take control, I thought... I thought you were giving me permission. I never meant to drive you apart. I'm inside you, Yunho. I can't live inside someone who hates me.

Yunho was taken aback by the rawness in Venatus's voice, the hint of desperation laced with regret. For a moment, the symbiote didn't sound like the relentless force that often pushed Yunho to his limits. It sounded like something more... human, for lack of a better word. A strange, vulnerable part of Venatus was emerging that Yunho hadn't expected, and for the first time, Yunho wasn't entirely sure how to feel about it.

He took a deep breath, the weight of the situation pressing on him, but despite everything, despite the chaos and the lingering tension, he couldn't help but chuckle lightly. The sound was small, almost bittersweet, but it was genuine.

"You're adorable, Venatus," Yunho whispered softly, his lips curling into a wry smile, even as his eyes lingered on Mingi. He could feel the symbiote in the back of his mind, still there, still pulsing with energy, but for the first time, he wasn't afraid of it. He wasn't scared of losing himself completely.

Mingi, still sitting close beside him, looked at Yunho with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What's going on in your head, baby?" he asked gently, his voice still tender as he tried to make sense of everything Yunho was going through. He didn't fully understand what was happening, but he could sense that Yunho was fighting, and that was enough for Mingi. He wanted to be there for him, to support him through this.

Yunho closed his eyes for a moment, just letting the warmth of Mingi's presence seep into him. He wasn't alone. Not anymore.

Venatus's presence in his mind didn't feel as suffocating now, and the symbiote's apology, however strange it seemed, was enough to calm some of the storm in his chest.

Maybe we'll make this work, somehow.

The symbiote didn't respond immediately, but Yunho could feel the tension ease. It was as if Venatus had taken a breath, giving him the space to process everything, just like Yunho had.

Yunho turned his attention back to Mingi, his gaze soft, filled with gratitude, and a quiet vulnerability. "I'm sorry for all of this, Mingi. I never wanted to drag you into any of it. But... thank you. Thank you for not giving up on me. On us."

Mingi smiled a soft, warm expression that made Yunho's chest ache with the weight of his feelings. "There's nothing to apologize for, Yunho. I'm here. And if you're symbiote is going to be with us now i suppose there's nothing wrong with getting used to him" Mingi said and shrugged

Your boyfriend just likes rough sex but is too shy to admit it

Shush Venatus, Yunho begged his symbiote to shut up

Mingi leaned forward, his arms wrapping gently around Yunho. He pressed his forehead against Yunho's, his voice soft and sincere as he whispered, "I didn't mind that our first time was quick or had some weird alien making it rough, Yuyu. I had you, and that's all that matters to me."

Yunho's heart tightened at the sincerity in Mingi's words, the weight of everything that had happened between them falling away in that moment. He could feel Mingi's warmth, the way Mingi held him as if he were the most precious thing in the world, and it made Yunho's chest swell with emotion.

Mingi pulled back slightly to meet Yunho's eyes, offering him a small, tender smile. "You don't need to worry, Yuyu," he said softly, his thumb brushing over Yunho's cheek, wiping away a stray tear Yunho didn't realize had fallen. "It's not about how long or perfect it is. It's about us being together. And that's all that matters."

Yunho's breath caught in his throat, the mixture of relief and affection making his chest feel light, as if the weight of everything he'd been carrying had been lifted. He leaned in, resting his forehead against Mingi's, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so lucky to have you, Mingi. I don't deserve you."

Mingi chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to Yunho's forehead. "You do deserve me, Yuyu. And I'm not going anywhere."

"So, Spiderman doesn't unfortunately cum spiderwebs, huh?" Mingi teased with a mischievous grin, his voice light and full of laughter as he leaned back against the bed.

Yunho groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Mingi, seriously, stop saying that!" he groaned, clearly embarrassed by his boyfriend's unhinged questions.

Mingi chuckled, reaching out to ruffle Yunho's hair. "Come on, Yuyu. You're a superhero, you've got all those cool powers—why not add one more to the list?" His eyes twinkled with playful mischief, unable to resist making Yunho squirm.

"Dude, not everything needs to be about Spider-Man's webbing ," Yunho muttered, his cheeks flushed from the banter, though there was a smile tugging at his lips.

Mingi grinned even wider, leaning in closer with a teasing glint in his eye. "I'm just saying, it's a missed opportunity. Spidey's gotta be able to multitask, right?"

Yunho couldn't hold back a laugh, rolling his eyes. "You're ridiculous."

Mingi, not missing a beat, gave him a knowing look, his curiosity piqued. "Alright, alright, I get it. But seriously," he said, shifting his weight to sit more comfortably, "since we're on the topic, tell me everything you found out about your dad. What did he do to make you and this symbiote... unite? And did you figure out how you became Spider-Man?"

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes searching Yunho's face for any hint of answers. "I remember your dad saying something like it was all planned. Why did he make you Spider-Man in the first place?" Mingi's tone was soft but filled with genuine concern, his gaze never leaving Yunho's face as if trying to piece together the fragmented puzzle that was Yunho's life.

Yunho's expression grew more serious, the playful banter slipping away as he remembered the painful, confusing truths about his father and the twisted legacy that had been forced upon him. He sat up straighter, running a hand through his hair, his thoughts swirling as he struggled to find the right words.

"It's a long story," Yunho began, his tone turning somber, far removed from the usual lightness he tried to maintain. "You know about my little sister, right? How she disappeared when we were kids?" He paused, eyes staring ahead, focusing on a spot on the wall as if willing the past to remain distant. "The police... they didn't help us. They didn't care enough to find her until it was too late. By the time they started looking, she was already gone."

Yunho clenched his fists, the memory still raw, still burning inside him. His jaw tightened as he continued, struggling to control the anger that had been festering for so long.

"My father, though... He didn't see it that way. He became obsessed with the idea that the police were worthless. That they couldn't protect us. And so, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He wanted... he needed a hero. Someone who could save people, someone who could fight back against the things that took my sister away. He thought that I could be that hero. That I could be the perfect weapon, molded with the right morals, the right values to stand for what's 'good.'"

Yunho's voice trembled slightly, the weight of the manipulation clear in his words. "He didn't care what it took to make me into what he wanted. All I ever was to him was a tool. And he—he used me. He put me through all these... tests, training, conditioning until I became Spider-Man . The whole thing, it was all part of his plan. I never asked for this. I didn't want to be a hero. But he made me believe that I had no choice. He made me believe it was my destiny."

A dark edge entered his voice as he let the truth spill out. "And then, just when I thought things couldn't get worse, he did something else. Last night... He injected the symbiote into me. I didn't even know it was happening until it was too late. He thought it would make me stronger, faster... more powerful. But it's not just power. It's a curse. A lie. And now I'm stuck with it, stuck with him, stuck with everything he forced on me."

Yunho shook his head, the anger and betrayal evident in every word. "My father isn't just some misguided man trying to help. He's a monster. And I—" Yunho paused, his chest tightening with a mixture of guilt and rage. "I can't keep pretending that he's not. I'm not some hero. I'm not the person he wanted me to be. I never was. And now, I don't know who I am anymore."

He leaned back, his head resting against the wall as he closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. The air felt heavy around him, and his breathing was slow, deliberate.

"I remember thinking that maybe... maybe if I was good enough, he would finally see me. Maybe if I could just be what he wanted, he'd stop treating me like I'm just some... experiment, some project he could mold into perfection. But it didn't work. And now, it's too late. I'm stuck with this symbiote, stuck with this power, and I don't know how to get rid of it. I don't know how to fix what he's done."

He rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the exhaustion in his bones. There was a vulnerability in him now that he rarely let anyone see, a truth that was harder to face than any villain he'd fought.

"The worst part is... I can't stop being Spider-Man. Not now. Not after everything. I've seen what the city needs, what people need. But every time I put that mask on, it feels like I'm becoming him. I'm becoming something I never wanted to be."

Yunho opened his eyes again, his gaze settling on the person in front of him, the only one he had ever let in on this.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know how to fight this... this thing that's inside me, that's inside everything I do now. I want to stop, but I don't know how." He let out a shaky breath. "And I don't even know if I'm strong enough to stop myself from becoming the monster my father always saw me as."

There was a silence that followed, thick with the weight of his confession. Yunho's shoulders slumped slightly as if the burden of holding it all in had finally become too much. The rawness of the moment lingered in the air, a silent plea for understanding, for help.

"I don't know what I'm asking for," Yunho admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe... maybe I just needed to say it out loud. To someone who won't see me as the thing my father created. Someone who won't look at me like I'm broken beyond repair."

For a moment, there was only silence, thick with the emotional gravity of Yunho's confession. Then, from deep inside his mind, a calm, soothing voice cut through the stillness, its tone reassuring but firm. "You're not broken, Yunho. I can promise you, I won't turn you into a monster." Venatus's words weren't just comforting—they were a promise, a vow that Yunho had needed to hear more than he realized.

Yunho chuckled softly, a weak smile pulling at his lips despite himself, the sound bittersweet. He appreciated Venatus, even if the symbiote had once terrified him. In a way, it had become the one constant in his life. But as the laughter faded, he couldn't help but notice the change in Mingi's expression. His usual carefree demeanor was gone, replaced with something darker, something more contemplative. The way Mingi's brows furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line—it was like he was weighing something heavy, something dangerous.

And then, without warning, Mingi spoke.

"What if we... kill your father?" His words were deliberate, heavy with an unsettling finality that made Yunho's heart stop for a split second. Yunho blinked, his brain scrambling to process what Mingi had just suggested.

For a long moment, he was frozen, unable to speak. He had thought about it before, of course. The thought of ending his father's twisted existence had crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. He'd even considered doing it with Venatus's help, imagining how easy it would be to end the man who had shaped his life into a nightmare. But the idea of actually carrying out the act—of killing the only family he had left—had always felt like crossing a line. It wasn't just about vengeance; it was about what it would do to him. Would it make him the monster his father had always said he would become?

But Mingi—Mingi was offering it like it was a solution. No hesitation, no doubt. It was as if the suggestion had come from somewhere deeper inside of him, a side of Mingi that Yunho had never seen before.

Mingi's eyes locked with Yunho's, his voice growing quieter but no less intense. "I know it sounds... extreme, but maybe it's the only way to stop him from destroying you. From destroying everything you've worked for. You've been carrying his burden for so long, Yunho. Maybe it's time to let go of that weight."

Yunho stared at him, unsure of what to say. There was a rawness in Mingi's voice, a sense of urgency that Yunho had never heard before. His mind raced. Could he really do it? Could he really kill his own father, the man who had created him? But then, that was the point, wasn't it? His father had never seen him as a son—only as a tool, a weapon to be used for his own twisted vision. Wasn't it time for Yunho to break free from that? Wasn't it time to take control of his own destiny?

See, Yunho? I love your boyfriend too, Venatus teased, its voice dripping with a hint of amusement. Aren't you glad you brought him around? He gets it.

Yunho felt his chest tighten, the weight of Venatus's words settling heavily on him. He looked at Mingi, his heart pounding. It wasn't just the symbiote speaking now—Mingi, his best friend, the one person who had always been by his side, was offering him something more than just support. He was offering a way out, a chance to break free of the chains his father had wrapped around him.

For the first time, Yunho felt like maybe there was a way forward. Maybe... maybe Mingi was right.

But then again, could he really go through with it? Would killing his father make him the hero he'd always hoped to be—or would it turn him into the very monster his father had always feared he would become?

The silence stretched on, and Yunho's mind spun with the possibilities. The weight of the decision was overwhelming, but in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was the moment where everything would change.

Finally, Yunho took a deep breath, steadying himself. "What if... what if I can't live with it afterward?" he asked, his voice barely audible. "What if it makes me worse?"

Mingi didn't flinch. He just stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Then we face it together. Whatever happens, Yunho, you don't have to do it alone."

Yunho's voice was steady, but there was a trace of doubt lingering beneath the surface. "I would still be Spider-Man... and I'd still have this damn symbiote inside me, Mingi. Killing him won't change any of that. I'd still be stuck in this... this mess." He ran a hand through his hair, the frustration palpable in his every movement. The symbiote—the part of him that he hated yet couldn't get rid of, the constant reminder of his father's manipulation—it wasn't something he could escape by ending his father's life.

Mingi's expression hardened, his usual calmness replaced by something sharper, something driven. He stepped forward, his voice taking on a more urgent tone. 

"Killing him wouldn't just be about you , Yunho. It's about preventing future shit like this. If he's powerful enough to inject aliens into you, to manipulate your life, to create superhumans—imagine the kind of damage he could cause if that power falls into the wrong hands." His gaze darkened, the weight of his words settling like a cold truth between them. 

"Your father... he's not just a threat to you. He's a threat to everyone."

Yunho's chest tightened at the implication. Mingi was right, wasn't he? His father wasn't just some figure from his past. He was still out there, still capable of wreaking havoc. The experiments, the manipulations—Yunho had seen it firsthand, the damage his father could do. If someone more dangerous got their hands on that kind of power, the consequences could be catastrophic.

Mingi's voice dropped lower, filled with conviction. "You've been living under his shadow for so long, Yunho. But now, you have the chance to end it. You don't have to keep carrying that burden. You're not the monster he made you. You're so much more than that."

Yunho stared at Mingi, the weight of the decision pressing on him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn't feel so alone in this. He didn't have to shoulder the consequences of his past by himself. Mingi was here, standing by his side, willing to face whatever came next with him.

The thought of taking that step—of actually killing his father—still terrified him. But Mingi was right. It wasn't just about his own freedom. It was about stopping a cycle of pain and destruction that had been set in motion long before Yunho even understood what was happening.

Yunho exhaled, his voice quiet but resolute. "I'm not doing it for me... I'm doing it to make sure no one else has to go through what I did."

Mingi nodded, his eyes softening just slightly, but there was still that determination in them. "I'm with you, Yunho. Whatever happens next, we face it together."

"Phew, finally a kill," Venatus said, the words laced with an unsettling sense of satisfaction. The symbiote seemed almost pleased, its energy thrumming within him, feeding off his uncertainty and resolve in equal measure.

Yunho clenched his fists at his sides, the mix of emotions churning in his chest. "It's not just about killing him," he muttered, half to himself and half to Venatus. "It's about stopping everything he started. Ending this... legacy he left behind. I can't let him keep doing this to people."

He felt a surge of energy from Venatus in response, a pulse that was almost too eager, too hungry. But it wasn't just the symbiote. There was something else in Yunho now, something stronger—a sense of purpose. For the first time in a long while, he wasn't just fighting to survive. He was fighting for something bigger than himself.

Mingi's gaze was unwavering as he watched Yunho, sensing the internal battle but understanding the necessity of the decision. He didn't say anything more, but the silent support in his eyes spoke volumes.

Yunho turned to him, his voice steadier now, though still tinged with the weight of what lay ahead. "We do this, Mingi. We end it. We end him ."

Mingi nodded, his jaw set, his hand coming to rest lightly on Yunho's shoulder, a gesture of solidarity. "Together."

"No, not you, I'm doing it myself Mingi"

Mingi's hand froze, his fingers still resting on Yunho's shoulder, and Yunho could feel the tension building between them. He looked over at Mingi, the resolve in his eyes clearer than ever, but something in his expression softened, as though he was trying to read Yunho's silent plea.

"Mingi... I can't drag you into this," Yunho said, his voice low but firm. "You've already done enough for me. This is something I need to do alone. I need to face him on my own terms. I can't keep relying on you for every decision." He took a deep breath, pushing past the weight in his chest. "This is my battle, Mingi. My mess to clean up."

Mingi's lips pressed together in a thin line, his gaze searching Yunho's face for any signs of hesitation. For a moment, there was nothing but the quiet hum of the city around them, the weight of the unspoken words hanging in the air between them.

Finally, Mingi exhaled slowly, his eyes softening. "You know I'm not going to let you do it alone, right? If you go, I go. That's what we agreed on, Yunho. We're in this together. No matter what."

Yunho felt a knot twist in his chest, the familiar ache of wanting to protect Mingi from the mess he had created. He swallowed hard, trying to force the words out, but they came out barely above a whisper. "I'm a superhero, Min." It felt almost like an excuse, a fragile barrier between him and the reality of what he was about to do. "I'm supposed to handle this... I can't let you get hurt because of me."

Mingi's gaze was unwavering, the intensity in his eyes sharpening. "That's exactly why you don't get to do this alone." His tone softened, but only slightly, as he stepped closer to Yunho, his presence as solid as ever. "Fine. You're a superhero. But I am your best friend and your boyfriend, Yunho. And you're not going through this without me. So... I will be coming with you. End of discussion."

Yunho opened his mouth to argue but found himself caught in Mingi's gaze. There was no wavering in his expression, no hesitation in his voice—just an undeniable, unbreakable resolve. Mingi wasn't just offering to stand by him. He was demanding to be there, refusing to let Yunho face the darkness of his past alone, even if that meant walking into the heart of danger.

Yunho's chest tightened, the weight of their shared history pressing down on him. Mingi had always been there, through every battle, every mistake, and every moment of doubt. The thought of pushing him away now felt impossible, even if it was what he thought was best.

For a long moment, Yunho just stared at him, the swirling storm inside him settling into something quieter, something that almost felt like peace.

"Fine," Yunho said quietly, the words carrying more weight than he intended. "But I can't protect you if this gets out of hand, Min."

"I'm not asking for protection," Mingi replied, his voice firm with a slight hint of a smile. "I'm asking you to let me stand by your side. No matter what comes next."

And in that moment, Yunho realized there was no way he could push Mingi away. Not now. Not ever. The bond they shared, the one that had survived everything life had thrown at them, was stronger than any fight or danger ahead.

"Together," Yunho murmured as if sealing the promise.

Mingi nodded, his eyes steady, his voice carrying the unspoken promise of what was to come. "Together."

The two stood there for a moment, the weight of the decision settling in the space between them. Yunho could feel the storm inside him, the fear, the anger, and the bitter sense of betrayal, but now, with Mingi by his side, there was a strange sense of clarity, like a distant fog slowly lifting. No more secrets, no more running from the past. They were going to face it head-on, together.

Yunho took a deep breath, his chest tight as he glanced at the clock. His father would be in his lab right now—alone, as always. The thought of walking into that lab, facing the man who had molded him into something he hated, made his skin crawl. But it was the only way forward. He needed to confront him, and end it once and for all.

Mingi's presence beside him grounded him, like a steady anchor in the chaos of his mind. "We do this quickly," Yunho said, his voice low but resolute. "We don't give him a chance to turn this against us. No more lies. No more manipulation."

Mingi met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. "You lead, I'll follow."

Yunho nodded the weight of the words heavy in the air. There was no turning back now. They were walking into enemy territory—his father's lab, a place that had once felt like home but now only served as a reminder of everything that had been twisted, warped, and poisoned.

The sound of their footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway as they made their way toward the lab. Every step felt heavier than the last as if the ground beneath them was shifting. Yunho's mind raced, replaying every moment of his life leading up to this, every moment his father had controlled him, every time the symbiote had consumed him in ways he didn't understand.

The closer they got to the lab, the more Yunho felt his pulse quicken, the unease building in the pit of his stomach. But this time, it wasn't fear. It was something else. Something darker. A reckoning.

They reached the door to the lab, the cold metal gleaming under the dim light. Yunho paused for a brief moment, his hand hovering just above the door handle. He could hear his father's voice echoing in his memory, the cold, manipulative words, the promises of power and greatness. The lies. The lies he had believed for so long.

But he wasn't that boy anymore.

He took a breath, steadying himself, and turned the handle.

The door opened with a quiet squeak, revealing the lab—sterile, cold, and filled with the hum of machines. His father stood in the center, bent over a table, examining something with intense focus. The moment he heard the door open, he straightened, his expression unreadable.

Yunho's heart pounded in his chest as he stepped inside, Mingi right behind him.

"You're here," his father said, his voice low and calm, like nothing had changed. But Yunho could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes—he knew why they were here.

"I'm here to end this," Yunho said his voice a mix of determination and something deeper—rage. "I'm done being your puppet. Done being the thing you made me into."

His father's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "You've always been too emotional, Yunho. You don't understand. You never have."

Mingi's hand on Yunho's shoulder was a silent reminder that he wasn't alone. Yunho clenched his fists, his jaw set. "I understand enough now. You used me. You used my powers. You put that symbiote inside me, and I've had enough of being your experiment."

The older man stepped forward, his presence commanding, cold, and unnervingly calm. "You think you can stop me? You think you can undo what I've done? It's too late for that, Yunho."

"No," Yunho said, his voice shaking with anger now. "It's not too late. Because I'm not afraid of you anymore." He felt Venatus stir within him, the symbiote reacting to the intensity of the moment, the hunger, the anger. But Yunho controlled it this time, holding it back with the steady presence of Mingi beside him. "It's over. You don't control me anymore."

His father's eyes narrowed, a dark flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. "You really think you can just walk away from this? From me?" He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto Yunho's. "I made you. You owe me everything."

The words hit Yunho like a slap. He had believed them once, let them define him. But now? Now they felt hollow.

"No," Yunho said again, his voice stronger this time, the conviction settling deep in his chest. "You didn't make me. You twisted me, broke me, but you didn't make me."

Mingi's grip tightened on his shoulder, the silent support unwavering as they stood side by side, ready to face whatever came next.

Yunho turned his gaze back to his father, the weight of everything he had become pressing down on him. "And now, it's time for you to face the consequences of what you've done."

There was no turning back now. It was time to end it, to cut the strings once and for all. And this time, Yunho wouldn't be alone.

Yunho's father spoke, his voice dripping with venom, "You think you can defeat me, Yunho? You think you're strong enough to take me down?"

Yunho's grip tightened around the edge of his web-shooter. His fist clenched, ready to strike, the anger and the rage that had been simmering for years finally boiling over. The words his father had drilled into him— the world is broken, Yunho. Only you can fix it. Only you can make things right —echoed in his mind, but they felt hollow now. They didn't matter anymore. None of it mattered.

"You made me this way," Yunho hissed, his voice laced with fury. "You made me into this monster. And now it ends. Right here. Right now."

Without another word, he lunged, his body moving with blinding speed, the symbiote coursing through him, amplifying his strength, his speed, his desire for vengeance. His father was quick too, too quick, and his reflexes matched Yunho's in every way. They collided with an explosive force, the sound of fists connecting with skin echoing through the lab. Yunho's blows were fast and relentless, but his father seemed to anticipate every strike, his own hands snapping out to deflect and counterattack.

The fight felt like it was spiraling out of control, each punch adding fuel to the fire, each clash a reminder of all the years of manipulation, of being molded into someone he didn't recognize. He could feel Venatus urging him forward, pushing him to destroy, to end the pain. And he wanted to. He wanted nothing more than to rip through his father's lies, to take everything he had ever done and turn it to dust.

But as the fight raged on, his father's words echoed in his head, like poison in his bloodstream. "You're nothing but a tool. A weapon. A weapon that will never be enough."

Yunho's next punch connected with his father's chest, and for a moment, he saw a flicker of something—fear?—in his father's eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. His father grabbed Yunho by the collar, lifting him off the ground with terrifying strength. The air in the room crackled with power as he threw Yunho against a nearby console, the impact sending a jolt of pain through his body.

Yunho grunted, his back aching from the impact, but before he could recover, his father was upon him again, driving a fist toward his face. The blow was hard enough to make Yunho's vision blur, but he didn't falter. His muscles screamed, and the symbiote pushed him to go further, to fight harder. He gritted his teeth, pushing back with a force he didn't know he had, and knocked his father back with a brutal punch to the jaw.

But just as Yunho's hand reached for the blade he'd planned to drive into his father's heart, a sudden force slammed into him. His father's other hand came out of nowhere, pushing Mingi against the glass wall with all his strength. The impact was deafening—Mingi's body slamming into the transparent surface with a sickening thud. Yunho's heart dropped in his chest as he saw Mingi's eyes widen in pain.

"No!" Yunho screamed, instinctively reaching for Mingi, but his father was too quick.

Before he could react, his father pushed harder, sending Mingi careening toward the window. Time seemed to slow as Yunho's eyes locked onto Mingi, the realization dawning on him with a gut-wrenching clarity. His father's malicious grin stretched wide, the twisted triumph written across his face.

"Don't!" Yunho shouted, his voice desperate.

But it was too late. Mingi's body hit the glass with brutal force, the window cracking under the pressure. The world seemed to tilt as Mingi fell, his body plummeting through the air, his limbs flailing as he disappeared from Yunho's sight.

Everything in Yunho froze. The symbiote stirred violently inside him, but he could barely feel it. His mind was consumed by the image of Mingi falling, falling like Gwen Stacy in a nightmare. The echo of that sickening crack against the glass replayed over and over in his mind. His heart pounded erratically in his chest, the world around him closing in. The fight with his father no longer mattered. All that mattered was Mingi— Mingi was falling.

"NO!" Yunho roared, abandoning his father for a split second. He turned on his heels, rushing toward the broken window, the panic overtaking him.

Venatus! he screamed internally. Help me!

The symbiote, sensing the urgency of his cry, surged to life within him, thrumming with energy and fury. It surged to the surface, pushing Yunho's body into action, but nothing could clear the fog of panic clouding his mind. His entire focus, his entire being, was fixated on the figure plummeting toward the ground below.

Mingi.

Yunho's fingers shot out instinctively, his webbing shooting from his suit with a wild desperation. But the webbing missed entirely, the angle wrong, the distance too far. It was as though time had slowed, each passing second dragging on in excruciating slowness. His stomach churned with the sickening realization—he had missed. He was too late.

The terror clawed at him, growing, eating him alive. The symbiote pushed, urging him to leap, to act, but it was all Yunho could do to keep his balance as the world seemed to crumble beneath his feet. He couldn't let Mingi fall. Not again. Not after everything they had been through.

"NO!" Yunho shouted, his voice hoarse as his eyes never left Mingi's falling form.

Without thinking, he jumped, pushing himself out of the window with the last shred of strength he had. His heart raced as the wind howled past him, but still, he couldn't reach Mingi. The air was thick with the sound of rushing wind, the distant crash of Mingi's body against the ground, a sound that echoed louder and louder in his mind. It was a nightmare—a cruel, unrelenting nightmare that he couldn't wake up from.

Webbing shot from his wrists, desperately trying to find Mingi, but the webs twisted uselessly in the air, veering too far to the left, too far to the right. They missed Mingi entirely. Yunho's chest tightened, his lungs seizing as the impossibility of the situation sank in. He could see Mingi's terrified eyes, could see the desperation in his boyfriend's frantic, outstretched arms, as he fell further and further. The tears on Mingi's face were clear, glistening in the dim light, as his body twisted midair in a futile attempt to slow his fall.

Mingi was inches from the ground when Yunho's webbing finally caught up, the tendrils snapping around his body, but it was too late. Mingi's scream pierced through the chaos—sharp, guttural, and full of pain—and it was the only thing Yunho could hear. It tore through his heart, echoing in his mind like a death knell, and his stomach lurched in horror as the sickening sound of a crack reverberated through the air.

"No! No, no, no!" Yunho screamed, his voice breaking, his breath caught in his throat. His webbing had caught Mingi's back, but the damage was done. 

*crack*

The sound that would haunt him forever. He couldn't process it. He couldn't breathe.

With a force he didn't know he had left, Yunho swung down in an arc, desperation driving him faster than he'd ever moved. His heart was in his throat, his hands trembling as he reached down. He was almost there, almost close enough to catch him, but the seconds stretched on like hours.

When Yunho's feet finally landed on the concrete, his heart stuttered as his eyes fell on Mingi. His body was sprawled across the ground, motionless, a dark streak of blood marking the concrete beneath him. The world around Yunho blurred, his vision narrowing to the lifeless form before him. His breath hitched painfully in his chest, his pulse erratic and fast as he dropped to his knees beside Mingi's body.

"Mingi," Yunho choked, his voice raw, breaking as his trembling hands reached for Mingi's form. His fingers brushed against Mingi's skin, cold and clammy, and a sickening wave of dread filled him. The blood rushed to his head, and for a brief moment, it felt like he was drowning.

Mingi's body was so still, so unnaturally still, and Yunho's mind raced with horror, panic tearing through him. The weight of failure slammed into him like a freight train. His hands hovered helplessly above Mingi, the tears blurring his vision as he couldn't even bring himself to check for a pulse. The crack, the scream, the fall—it was all too much. He had lost him. He had failed.

"No... no, no, no..." Yunho whispered, his voice breaking with desperation. He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of the fear and the guilt crushing him. He had promised to protect Mingi. He had promised not to let anything happen to him. And yet here they were.

His hands were shaking uncontrollably as they hovered over Mingi's chest, fear and guilt flooding every inch of his body. He couldn't— he couldn't —let this be the end. He couldn't lose the only person who had ever truly stood by him.

He fought to steady his breathing, closing his eyes for a split second. It wasn't over. It couldn't be over.

"Mingi..." Yunho whispered again, quieter this time, as if calling out to him from across some vast distance. He placed his hand over Mingi's chest, pressing lightly at first, but then, with more urgency, desperate to feel the warmth of his heartbeat beneath his palm.

It was then that he felt it. The faintest thrum beneath his fingers. The smallest of pulses, but it was there. Mingi's alive.

Yunho's breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he just stared at Mingi's face, relief flooding through him in waves. Mingi wasn't gone. He couldn't be.

Without thinking, Yunho pulled Mingi into his arms, holding him close, as though the simple act of touching him would keep the world from falling apart. His own tears mixed with the bloodstained earth, but he didn't care. He would fight for him. He would fight to keep him alive.

Mingi's eyes fluttered open, weak and disoriented, but the pain was clear on his face. He tried to shift in Yunho's arms, but the movement only made him wince.

"Yuyu... my back hurts," Mingi mumbled, his voice a strained rasp. His breath hitched as he shifted slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, but his body betrayed him. The pain was overwhelming, radiating from his back like a fire, every tiny shift making it worse.

Yunho's heart shattered at the sound of Mingi's voice, so raw and vulnerable. His fingers tightened instinctively around Mingi as if he could shield him from the pain, as if his touch could somehow take it away. His mind raced, but there was only one thought that dominated his every move: 

Get help.

Venatus's presence surged suddenly, breaking through Yunho's panic with a jolt of sharp clarity. The symbiote's head emerged from Yunho's body, tendrils stretching out from his skin as the symbiote made its way through the air, seeking the nearby surroundings.

The familiar dark tendrils of Venatus coiled, its glowing eyes scanning the scene, feeding off the fear and tension in the air. Where is the nearest phone? Venatus's voice reverberated inside Yunho's mind. We need to call for help now.

Yunho, still cradling Mingi in his arms, didn't waste a second. His hands moved mechanically as he searched around for something, anything that could be used to call an ambulance. His mind was clouded with a thick fog of worry, but instinct kicked in, driving him forward. His fingers fumbled for his phone, his breath ragged as he finally found it in his pocket. He yanked it out, trembling, and fumbled with the screen.

Why did everything feel so distant? Why did his hands feel like they were moving in slow motion? The weight of the situation crushed him—Mingi was hurt, and Yunho couldn't fix it. Not by himself. Not yet.

But his thoughts were interrupted by Mingi's voice, faint and broken. "Yuyu, I... feel cold."

The words hit Yunho like a punch to the gut, and he felt his chest tighten painfully. The fear that had been gnawing at him, building since the moment Mingi had fallen, suddenly grew. Mingi wasn't just injured. His words were laced with more than just pain—they carried a quiet desperation. A plea for help, a warning that things could be worse than Yunho had realized.

Mingi's body felt heavy in his arms, his breathing shallow and uneven, and Yunho's heart hammered in his chest. He could hear nothing but the frantic beat of his own pulse. His hands were shaking so badly that he could barely keep a grip on his phone.

Come on... come on, he thought desperately, punching in the numbers with trembling fingers. Please, let me get this right.

But the phone slipped from his hands, and Yunho's chest constricted.

Yunho... focus. Venatus's voice rang in his mind, steady and calm. You need to stay calm. I can feel his pain, but you can't afford to panic.

Yunho nodded to himself, taking a deep, shaky breath. He reached for the phone again, fingers curling around it with a newfound determination. He quickly dialed emergency services, his mind spinning with the weight of what was happening, what could happen.

Mingi's quiet groans of pain were the only sounds now, mixing with the distant noise of traffic and the muffled chaos of the city around them. Time felt like it was slipping away, and yet Yunho felt like he was moving in slow motion, unable to fully process what was happening. The terror, the helplessness—it gnawed at him, but he couldn't let himself be swallowed by it. Not while Mingi was still breathing.

As the phone rang, Yunho's mind drifted back to the moment when Mingi had fallen—how his heart had stopped with him, how he had thought he'd lost him. But here he was, still alive, still in his arms.

Hold on, Min. Please, hold on.

Yunho's grip on Mingi tightened, his arms almost instinctively pulling him closer as though he could shield him from the world's cruelty. His eyes were blurry, tears clouding his vision, but he couldn't let go. Mingi was alive, and he wasn't going to lose him—not like this, not after everything they'd been through.

The phone finally picked up, and Yunho's voice broke through the line, desperate and shaking. "Yes, yes, please—my boyfriend, he... he's hurt, he fell—he's bleeding, his back, please, you have to send help—right now!" He gave them the details, but it felt like an eternity before the voice on the other end confirmed they were on their way.

"Help's coming, Min," Yunho whispered to Mingi, his words a promise more to himself than his boyfriend, though he needed Mingi to hear them. He needed Mingi to know he was fighting for him, that he wasn't giving up.

Mingi's eyes fluttered open again, his face pale and contorted in pain, but there was a small, fragile smile on his lips, almost as if he were trying to reassure Yunho, though he could barely speak. "Yuyu... you're... you're not alone, are you?"

Yunho swallowed hard, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill again. He wanted to reassure Mingi, to tell him everything would be okay, but the crushing weight of uncertainty stole his words. "I'm here, Min. Always here. I'm not leaving you."

Mingi's chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, each one seeming to take more effort than the last. His fingers twitched weakly, and Yunho immediately responded, brushing his thumb gently over Mingi's hand, squeezing it, as though by doing so, he could anchor them both in this moment.

A sudden hiss from Venatus broke through Yunho's thoughts. The pain... it's too much for him, Yunho. You have to stay focused. He won't last much longer if you don't do something.

Yunho felt a surge of panic at the symbiote's words. What do I do? His voice was barely a whisper in his mind, but Venatus's response was sharp and clear.

Use me.

Yunho's heart stopped for a beat as he processed the symbiote's suggestion. He'd never used Venatus like this before—not in such a desperate, life-or-death situation. What do you mean?

Merge with me. I can help him. It'll numb his pain, slow down the damage. But you have to trust me, Yunho. You have to do it now.

For a moment, Yunho hesitated, the weight of the decision pressing down on him. He had been living with the symbiote's presence inside him for so long, but this—this was different. But then he looked down at Mingi, his face pale and his breaths so shallow, and his hesitation dissolved.

"Alright," Yunho muttered to himself, more out of determination than certainty. He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath as he focused, his body still and tense. I trust you, Venatus. He felt the symbiote stir within him, its tendrils extending, slowly wrapping around his hands, merging with his skin.

As he did, he felt a surge of energy rush through him, and suddenly, it was as if the world around him slowed down. His senses heightened. He could hear Mingi's heartbeat, weak but steady, and the distant sounds of sirens growing nearer. The pain radiating from Mingi's back seemed to pulse in Yunho's own chest, but the symbiote dampened it, numbing the worst of it, letting Mingi rest without feeling the weight of every breath he took.

Yunho held Mingi tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against his, as the symbiote's power hummed through him, connecting him to Mingi in ways he had never felt before. He could feel the strain in Mingi's body, the fractures in his bones, the deep aches from the fall. But he could also feel something else—a pulse of life, faint but persistent.

"You're going to make it," Yunho whispered, his voice a low murmur as he leaned down to press a kiss to Mingi's forehead. "We'll get you through this. I'm not going to let go."

Mingi's lips parted, his voice little more than a soft rasp. "Promise?"

Yunho nodded, his eyes steady, though his heart was still racing. "I promise, Min. We're in this together."

With Venatus's help, the symbiote's healing power started to take effect. Mingi's breathing became more stable, his body more relaxed, and Yunho could feel the weight of his pain begin to lift, just a little. But it wasn't enough. Not yet. They needed to get him to the hospital, needed real doctors to fix him, to make sure he would walk away from this.

He heard the sirens growing louder, the sound of emergency vehicles rapidly approaching. He felt a surge of relief, but even as the paramedics arrived and took over, Yunho refused to let go of Mingi's hand. He stayed right by his side, watching every movement, feeling every breath, unwilling to leave him for even a second.

The paramedics worked quickly, but Yunho didn't move. He didn't care about the chaos around him, the flashing lights, the rushing people. All that mattered was Mingi, and he wouldn't leave him.

As they loaded Mingi onto a stretcher, Yunho followed closely, still holding his hand. He didn't say anything more, words felt unnecessary. There were no promises left to make, no reassurances he could give. But one thing was certain—he wasn't going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.

Yunho stood in the sterile, dimly lit hallway, his body tense as the seconds seemed to stretch into eternity. His hands were clenched into fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands as his mind replayed every horrifying moment from the fall. The images were still so vivid—Mingi falling, the desperation in his eyes as he reached out, Yunho's futile attempts to catch him, the sickening crack of Mingi's body hitting the ground.

His breath came in shallow bursts, his heart pounding in his chest, but he couldn't move. He couldn't leave this spot. Not until he knew. Not until he had some answer, some confirmation that Mingi would be okay.

His thoughts were a chaotic mess—memories of their time together flashing before his eyes. The shared laughter, the quiet moments when they didn't need words to understand each other, the promises they'd made to stand by each other no matter what. All of it felt like it could slip away in the blink of an eye if Mingi didn't make it through this.

Time felt like it had frozen, his body still and rigid, every muscle coiled in anticipation. His mind couldn't process the thought of losing Mingi, and yet he feared it with every fiber of his being.

The soft shuffle of footsteps approached, pulling Yunho from his thoughts. His gaze snapped up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw the doctor walking toward him, his face unreadable, tired, but calm.

The doctor stopped a few feet away, his expression softening as he took in Yunho's tense posture, the desperate look in his eyes. For a brief moment, Yunho saw something almost pitying in the doctor's gaze, and his stomach churned.

"Mr. Jeong," the doctor began, his voice steady but laced with the weight of the news. "He's alive, thankfully." The words hit Yunho like a wave of relief, but it was only a fleeting moment before the doctor continued. "However, he suffered significant trauma to his neck and spinal cord. We've stabilized him for now, but there's a chance he may be temporarily paralyzed."

The words hung in the air like an anchor, pulling Yunho's breath from his lungs. Temporary paralysis. He didn't know what that meant exactly, but it sounded like a lifetime to him. His heart seemed to stop as his mind raced, trying to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Is there... a chance he'll recover?" Yunho's voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper, his throat tight with emotion. His fingers trembled at his sides, his knuckles white from the force with which he was holding onto his composure.

The doctor hesitated for a moment, glancing down at the clipboard in his hands before meeting Yunho's eyes again. "It's difficult to say. Spinal injuries are unpredictable. We've done everything we can for now, but the full extent of the damage won't be clear until we run more tests. For now, all we can do is wait and see."

Yunho's chest felt like it was caving in, the air around him thick and suffocating. He felt numb, disconnected from the world around him, as though everything was happening in slow motion. He wanted to ask more questions, wanted to demand answers, but the weight of the situation kept him silent, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios.

"What do I... what do I do now?" Yunho finally asked, his voice barely audible, the question hanging in the air as if it were a cry for help. His whole world had been shaken to its core, and he didn't know how to piece it back together. He didn't know how to fix this.

The doctor's expression softened, his gaze filled with understanding. "For now, just stay by his side. Your presence is important to his recovery. And when the time comes, we'll move forward with the necessary treatments. But I can't promise anything, Mr. Jeong. All we can do is hope."

Hope. The word sounded so fragile, so intangible. Yunho nodded stiffly, his head heavy, his hands still trembling at his sides. He felt like he was walking through a fog, his thoughts disjointed, his emotions a whirlpool threatening to drown him.

"Thank you," Yunho murmured, though it felt hollow, inadequate for the weight of what he was hearing. He wanted to say more, wanted to ask the doctor to fix Mingi, to make him whole again, but the words wouldn't come.

The doctor gave him one last sympathetic look before turning to leave, his footsteps echoing down the hallway. Yunho stood there, motionless, the silence pressing in on him, the weight of it suffocating. The one thing he had clung to—the one thing he had been fighting for—was slipping away, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Mingi had always been the strong one, the one who held it all together. And now, it was Yunho's turn to be strong—for Mingi, for both of them. He would be there for him, no matter what, because that's what they did for each other. But even as he whispered to himself that it wasn't over yet, that they still had time, the fear gnawed at him, threatening to swallow him whole.

"I'm sorry, Yunho. I couldn't do much, I could only save him," Venatus's voice echoed within him, its tone tinged with a bitterness that mirrored his own. The words didn't offer comfort; if anything, they only highlighted the crushing helplessness Yunho felt.

Yunho closed his eyes, leaning back against the cold wall of the hallway. The pain in his chest was physical, sharp, as though his own heart had fractured with the weight of Mingi's fall. He had failed. In the one moment he couldn't afford to fail, he had. "Save him," he repeated softly, almost bitterly, his hands trembling at his sides.

He had done everything in his power to protect Mingi, but it wasn't enough. He hadn't been able to stop his father, and he hadn't been able to save Mingi from the consequences of the chaos that had consumed their lives. "I... should have been faster," Yunho muttered, though the words felt hollow. It was the same endless loop of regret—if only he had been faster, stronger, smarter.

Inside him, Venatus was silent, almost solemn, but Yunho could feel the symbiote's presence—its energy was still there, urging him to focus, to act. But Yunho wasn't sure how to. He wasn't sure how to fix this broken moment.

"You did what you could, Yunho," Venatus finally said, its voice softer now, the usual bite gone. "You didn't fail. You saved him, even if it's not the way you wanted."

But it didn't feel like enough. It didn't feel like saving Mingi. "He's still not okay," Yunho whispered, pressing his forehead against the cold wall, feeling the harshness of the moment pressing into him like a suffocating weight.

He could still see it, see Mingi falling in slow motion, see the panic in his eyes, the look of desperation, the way he tried to reach out to him. That split second felt like an eternity, and Yunho couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed Mingi—failed the one person who had always been there, the one person who had stood beside him through everything.

"I know," Venatus responded, its voice full of understanding, as if it too regretted not being able to change the outcome. "But you're not alone in this. You've got me, and we've got him." There was a beat of silence before Venatus added, "Don't let this destroy you, Yunho. Mingi wouldn't want that."

Yunho's chest tightened, the words hitting harder than expected. He could practically feel Mingi's presence in his mind, his quiet strength, the way Mingi had always been the calm in the storm.

Mingi wouldn't want him to give up. Mingi wouldn't want him to let this defeat him.

Yunho's chest tightened at the thought, but there was a flicker of resolve that followed, small but steady. He wiped away the tears that had started to fall again, his emotions too raw to control. Mingi was still alive. He was still here, and Yunho wasn't going to lose him—not like this.

"Let's go visit your princess, Yunho." Venatus's voice cut through the fog of his mind, its tone shifting from its usual sharpness to something more understanding, almost reassuring. It was as if the symbiote itself had sensed the break in Yunho's wall and now was prodding him forward, urging him to face what lay ahead.

Yunho took a deep breath, steadying himself, and stood up from the wall. His legs felt like they might give way beneath him, but the thought of Mingi—Mingi, alive—pushed him forward. He walked down the sterile, cold hallway, each step echoing in the quiet of the hospital. The white fluorescent lights above flickered slightly, casting harsh shadows that did little to ease the tension in his chest.

The ICU doors were just ahead. His heart started to race, his throat constricting. Every part of him wanted to run, to push those doors open and see Mingi, to see him breathing, to see him alive. The thought that he had almost lost him—no, the fact that he had almost lost him—gnawed at him, but he couldn't let that consume him now. Not when Mingi was still fighting.

Yunho pushed the door open.

The room was dim, with only the faintest glow from the monitors and the soft beeping of machines keeping a rhythm in the air. Mingi was lying in the bed, hooked up to an oxygen mask, his body wrapped in thick bandages and back braces to stabilize his spine. His once vibrant eyes were now closed, exhaustion etched on his face, but his chest rose and fell steadily, a small reminder that he was still here, still alive.

The oxygen mask muffled Mingi's words, but Yunho could hear him clearly. The humor in Mingi's voice—despite the pain, despite everything—was unmistakable.

"I had my Gwen Stacy moment... but at least I didn't die like her," Mingi joked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The words were weak, and strained, but there was that familiar teasing lilt to them. Yunho's breath caught in his throat at the sound of Mingi's voice. It was a fragile thing, but it was still there.

Yunho blinked rapidly, trying to stop the wave of emotion that hit him. His vision blurred as more tears spilled down his cheeks, falling silently as he took a tentative step closer to the bed.

He chuckled softly, despite the lump in his throat, and shook his head in disbelief. Mingi always did this. Even in the worst of times, even when the world seemed to be falling apart around them, Mingi found a way to make him smile.

"Shut up, you idiot," Yunho whispered through his laughter, his voice raw and thick with the weight of his emotions. His smile faltered only briefly, his hand reaching out to rest gently on Mingi's arm. He could feel the warmth of Mingi's skin beneath the bandages, the reassuring pulse of life in the otherwise sterile environment.

Mingi's lips twitched upward into the faintest of smiles. Even in this condition, Mingi still had the strength to tease him. That was Mingi, always pushing through, always fighting. Yunho squeezed his hand tighter, as if the simple act of contact could somehow reassure him that everything was going to be okay.

"Idiot," Mingi repeated softly, the sound of his voice sending another wave of relief through Yunho's chest. There it was again—the playful defiance, the warmth, the life in him. Yunho's heart ached with both relief and a deep, unspoken fear of what could have been.

He could hardly believe it. The fall, the cracking sound of Mingi's back, his body hitting the ground—it all felt like a nightmare now, something he could scarcely comprehend. But here Mingi was, still fighting, still breathing. And Yunho wasn't going to waste another second of this, not when he had him back.

Yunho wiped his eyes, his hands trembling as the tears continued to fall, stubbornly refusing to stop. His heart ached as he looked down at Mingi, his breath uneven with the raw emotions flooding through him. "You scared the hell out of me, Min," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. He leaned forward, his forehead gently resting against Mingi's, savoring the steady rhythm of his breathing, despite the machines surrounding him, keeping him tethered to life.

Mingi's lips parted, letting out a faint, strained sound of protest, but his eyes remained shut, exhausted from the trauma he'd just endured. Yunho didn't pull away. He didn't care how fragile Mingi looked, or how helpless he felt. All that mattered was that Mingi was alive. Yunho stayed right there, sitting beside him, as if just being near him could prevent the universe from shattering again. He couldn't leave him now. Not after everything. Not after coming so close to losing him.

"I'm not letting you go," Yunho murmured, his voice low but firm, his words carrying a weight of resolve he hadn't had before. He could feel the truth of his words in every fiber of his being. No more hesitation, no more running from the truth or the fear. He had come so dangerously close to losing Mingi, but now that he had him here, still alive, he wasn't going to waste it. "Not this time. Not ever."

The moment felt like it could last forever. Mingi's shallow breaths, his presence—the way his warmth still lingered in the room, even if his body was weak—were the only thing Yunho needed to hold on to right now. He refused to break this bond, to allow anything else to come between them. He had no idea what the future held, or what they might face, but at that moment, all Yunho could promise was to be there for Mingi, to protect him, no matter the cost.

Mingi's background had always been one of duality, shaped by the contrast of his parents' worlds. His mother, a respected judge who had climbed the ranks with her sharp mind and unwavering commitment to justice, had always been a pillar of moral integrity. His father, on the other hand, was a hardened police officer, with a reputation for discipline and respect in his field, but whose cold demeanor masked the darker tendencies that had crept in over the years. They had both been pillars of law and order, but that duality had not only shaped Mingi into a man who could navigate the complexities of right and wrong, it had also given him the courage to stand up for the truth—even when the truth was too terrifying to face.

Now, that very background was about to become crucial. Yunho knew that Mingi's parents, with their collective legal knowledge and experience, were the key to bringing down the man who had tortured him. His own father—Dr. Jeong—had manipulated Yunho in ways no one could have imagined. The man who had claimed to be a protector had turned his own son into a subject of cruel experiments, using him as little more than a pawn in his twisted quest for power.

Yunho had already made the difficult call. While Mingi was in surgery, fighting for his life, Yunho had contacted Mingi's father. He had told him everything—everything he could without revealing the full depth of their secret lives. He explained what had happened to Mingi, how he had been pushed from that building, and how the twisted experiments had nearly cost him his life. Yunho made sure the details were clear, and the evidence indisputable. Mingi's father, with his connection to the law and his deep knowledge of the legal system, was the perfect ally in this fight. It was through his efforts, combined with Mingi's own strength, that they would take down Dr. Jeong once and for all.

Yunho's father, Dr. Jeong, was now in custody at the police station, being questioned on numerous charges: child exploitation, murder, and conducting immoral experiments on Yunho and others and pushing Mingi Yunho's stomach churned at the thought. The man he had once idolized, the man who had raised him, was the very one responsible for the monstrous acts that had put Mingi in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.

Yet, in the midst of all this, Yunho couldn't allow them to know everything. The truth about his alter ego, Spider-Man, had to stay hidden. For now, at least. He knew how dangerous it would be if anyone discovered that he was more than just a man, that he was the very superhero who had tried to save the world. He had no choice but to keep that secret buried deep. The world wasn't ready for the truth, and he couldn't risk it getting out—not yet. The stakes were too high.

A few months had passed since that harrowing night, and the once sterile and cold hospital room now felt like a distant memory. Mingi had made an incredible recovery, though the journey wasn't easy. Every day, he'd made slow but steady progress, pushing through the pain and the frustration that came with his therapy sessions. Physiotherapy was grueling, a constant reminder of how far he'd fallen and how much he had to fight to get back to where he was, but with each passing day, Mingi grew stronger. Yunho had never left his side, helping him with his exercises and offering gentle encouragement.

It wasn't just the physical recovery that weighed heavily on Mingi. He had to rebuild his confidence, his trust in his body and his mind. There were moments of doubt when Mingi would get frustrated with himself—when his muscles wouldn't cooperate when his body betrayed him in the most basic ways. But Yunho, ever patient, always reminded him of how far he'd come. "You're strong, Min. We're doing this together. You're not alone," he would say, his words a constant source of comfort and support.

Today was a milestone. Mingi was finally being discharged from the hospital, ready to begin the next chapter of his life—a life filled with hope, albeit with a few scars and limitations. As Yunho wheeled Mingi out of the hospital in a wheelchair, the light outside felt brighter, more hopeful. Mingi, dressed in a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants, looked a little weary but determined. His once-skeletal frame had regained some of its strength, though he still looked fragile, like a delicate flower just beginning to bloom again.

Yunho pushed him gently, his hand resting on the back of the chair. His eyes were focused ahead, but there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he looked at Mingi, as though he could see through the surface and into the heart of the man who had captured his own.

"Ready to go home?" Yunho asked softly, his voice full of love and reassurance.

Mingi smiled faintly, though it was tinged with the vulnerability of someone still finding their way back to themselves. "Home with you, huh?" He glanced up at Yunho, his eyes soft with affection and gratitude. "I think I'm ready. Just don't make me walk too much yet. My legs are still sore."

Yunho chuckled a warm sound that reverberated in Mingi's chest. "No walking just yet. I'm in charge of this wheelchair for now."

They shared a brief laugh, and the moment felt strangely normal, despite everything that had happened. It was a moment of peace, the kind they both needed. Mingi had gone through hell, and Yunho had been there, every step of the way, just as he promised.

As they reached the exit, a soft voice echoed from within Yunho's chest. 

Venatus.

Yunho tensed slightly, but only for a moment, before responding internally. "What is it?"

The progress you two have made is remarkable. I can feel your bond strengthening, Venatus said, its voice smooth and almost soothing. Mingi is doing well. And you, Yunho, you're stronger than you realize. I'm proud of you.

Yunho couldn't help but smile, the pride he felt for Mingi and the symbiote's quiet approval filling him with warmth. "Thanks, Venatus. You've helped me get through this."

I'm always here for you, Venatus replied softly. Both of you.

They reached the car, where Mingi's mother, who had been dutifully caring for him when Yunho wasn't around, was waiting to help get him into the backseat. Yunho could see the quiet tension in her eyes, the weight of her own emotions as she processed everything that had transpired over the past few months. She wasn't entirely at peace with what had happened, and there was still a certain coldness between them, especially since Yunho had become estranged from his own mother. His decision to expose his father's crimes had shattered their family, and his mother had made it clear that she couldn't forgive him for the betrayal.

In truth, Yunho didn't know where he stood with his mother anymore. Her anger had driven him out of their home, and despite the painful ache of being disowned, Yunho didn't regret his actions. His decision to break free from his father's shadow and expose the truth was the only choice he could have made. He couldn't live a lie. But still, the weight of her anger lingered in the back of his mind.

As they drove back to the apartment he now shared with Mingi, Yunho let the silence settle between them. The car was warm, the air tinged with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Yunho didn't feel like an outcast. There was a sense of belonging here, with Mingi. With Venatus.

"I'll be there for the rehab sessions," Yunho said, breaking the silence. 

"You'll get through this, Min. Slowly but surely, we'll do it together."

Mingi's voice, though quiet, was filled with determination. "I'll get stronger. I'll walk again. Just... give me time." He paused, glancing at Yunho with a tired but hopeful smile. "And keep pushing me, alright? I'm not gonna let you do this alone."

Yunho leaned over and pressed a kiss to Mingi's forehead, his heart swelling with a love that had only deepened over the past few months. "I wouldn't dream of it."

As they pulled into the parking lot of their building, Yunho felt a quiet sense of relief wash over him. They had made it through the storm, and now, together, they would rebuild. With every step Mingi took toward recovery, Yunho would be right there beside him—fighting, healing, and moving forward. No more looking back. No more regrets.

They still had a long way to go. There would be more challenges ahead, and more battles to fight. But for now, as Mingi was wheeled into their apartment, Yunho felt at peace. They had each other. And with that, they could face anything.

Venatus's presence hummed softly within Yunho, a silent companion, and as he watched Mingi settle onto the couch, propped up by pillows, Yunho whispered to the symbiote. "We're not done yet, are we?"

Not by a long shot, Venatus replied, its voice full of quiet promise. But you've already won the hardest part. You have each other.

Yunho nodded, his heart full as he turned back to Mingi. He wasn't sure what the future would hold, but for the first time in a long while, he was ready to face it—with Mingi by his side and the quiet strength of Venatus within him. Together, they would rebuild. Together, they would be unstoppable and that was all that mattered.

Yunho was still Spiderman, saving his city day and night and being a lovely boyfriend when he wasn't busy, he'd use his powers to fight bullies in school, teach children at the skatepark how to ride the skateboard, and whatnot. With Venatus and Mingi by his side, Yunho wouldn't ever dream of ever being lonely.

Venatus was his best friend and Mingi was his boyfriend and he was just.....Jeong Yunho, the Spiderman with an alien inside him, the Spiderman that didn't cum spiderweb, the little loser who fell in love with his best friend. He was

The Amazing Spiderman.

THE END

[pokemonruby]

worst part about my dragon age experience as a brand new fan is that i got spoiled on the solas stuff halfway through my playthrough (it's a surprise i evaded it until now considering how old the game is) and my neutral stance on him elevated to pure love (also progressing in his personal storyline made me start appreciating his character) but the WORST part is that i'm playing as an elf, sure, and i knew beforehand that he only romanced elves, but WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S STRAIGHT!

[jesuistrestriste]

♡ Nice Guys Finish Last; Art Donaldson x Reader ♡

nsfw! (18+) cw: soft dom!art donaldson, sub!reader, afab/fem reader, porn w/ a little plot, penetrative sex, unsafe sex/pullout method, slight edging (reader!receiving), equal desperation, praise, general filth, art is a softie until he's not

wc: 4.2 k

*does not include challengers spoilers!*

prev. art donaldson fic : <3 here <3

It was currently 11 PM in the state of New York, and Art Donaldson was in your hotel room.

-

Earlier today, you had competed in a long singles tennis tournament for a cash prize, and had beat every other girl in the bracket. You walked away from it with five-hundred more dollars in your pocket than you had walked in with, and a smug grin on your glossy lips.

Art Donaldson had competed in a similar tournament at the same venue, except it involved doubles teams playing against one another. He had played with his typical partner, Patrick Zweig, and they, too, had beat everyone in their bracket.

Tomorrow, they would be playing against one another to determine the ultimate winner.

You had watched them play, and they had watched you play too.

After the venue had shut down for the night, you had begun to wander back to your hotel a few blocks away and coincidentally bumped into the two boys heading back to the same building.

You three talked--or rather, they had buttered you up with compliments as you all went up the elevator, and suddenly you were in their hotel room drinking cheap beer from cold metal cans.

They both flirted relentlessly with you for about an hour or two, before Patrick had called it a night (and had given up on trying to woo you) and told you and Art that he was going to sleep.

Art had given you a look and nodded towards their room's door with a small smile, silently suggesting something. Thirty seconds later the both of you were standing alone in the hotel hallway. He chatted you up and praised your tennis-playing for about ten more minutes, his blue eyes staring into yours with an earnest desire to hold your attention. You had laughed and flushed with a nervous heat while he sang your praises, and then a bout of silence came over the two of you. He looked down to his shoes, letting out a soft chuckle, and then back up to your eyes.. and then down to your lips. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above made the silence seem more tense than it already was.

After tossing the reality of this interaction around in your head, you had realized that his kind, sensitive, charming persona was effectively rendering you weak in the knees..

"You're really pretty, by the way.. i don't know if i've said that yet, but you are," he had spoken in the hallway, leaning his shoulder against the wall as a lock of his strawberry-blonde curls hung in the center of his forehead.

And that was it.

Five minutes later he was in your hotel room.

-

The both of you kicked your shoes off in the doorway, and then moved to sit on the edge of your hotel room bed. Your chest and hands felt strangely hot as the young, talented tennis player sat there next to you. After a few moments of shared bashful glances, you started to notice things about him that you hadn't before.

Sometimes when he smiled, only one corner of his lips would lift up. When that happened, it looked more like he was smirking than he was smiling, which made him seem either disingenuous or disinterested -- even though it seemed that neither of those things were true.

He smelled like generic aftershave, faint sweat, and warm skin, which was a pleasant contrast to the smell of the hotel room. While the hotel was clean, it was also old, which made the permeating scent of the carpet akin to something like the stale basement of a childhood home.

He fidgeted subtly with his hands, staring into your eyes before averting them to look around at your luggage and tennis bag on the floor.

"So.. you said you're going to Stanford this fall, right?" you say, leaning back on your palms.

"Yeah, yeah," he nods, turning his head to look back to you again with a sheepish smile, “and you’re going to Harvard?”

“Mhm,” you hum, smiling back at him, “is Patrick going with you?”

He laughs a little, his brows furrowing, “Patrick? Hell no.”

You shake your head, “why not?”

“Patrick isn’t the college type. He wants to go pro immediately.”

“Ohh.. right, i forgot he mentioned that.”

“Yeah,” Art shrugs, still giving you a soft look as he shifts a little in his spot on the end of the mattress.

“I think you’re better off at Stanford without him,” you tease slightly, a playful smirk on your face.

He smiles wider, “Why?”

“I think he’d just get you into trouble,” you chuckle.

Art laughs again, a tiny bit harder than he did before, and you’re not sure if it’s because he genuinely likes your playfulness or if it’s because he’s a little nervous.

"You don't think I can cause trouble?" he asks with a small smile.

You shake your head after letting a soft giggle bubble up and out of your chest in response.

"Nah, not really."

"Why's that?"

"You're just so.. so nice."

He scoffs lightly and gently rolls his eyes, reaching up to tuck some of his messy hair behind one of his ears. He chews a little on the inside of his cheek.

"What?" you laugh.

"Everyone me and Patrick meet thinks he's this cool 'bad-boy' and I'm just this.. meek little 'nice guy'," he chuckles, matching your body language now by also leaning back on his palms.

Your smile falters slightly when he does this, but only because now the sleeve of his gray tee shirt was brushing against your bare shoulder, and your faces were a short distance apart. If you tried, you could probably just lean in and kiss him..

"It's not a bad thing to be a nice guy," you smirk, continuing your guys' little back-and-forth.

"Yeah, but there's, like, connotations behind that idea of a guy."

"What 'connotations'?"

He lets out a stiff chuckle, averting his eyes down to his legs before he returns your eye contact once again as he speaks, "I don't know.. that I'm 'shy', or that i 'cant be assertive'.."

You smile, feeling another wave of warmth creep over your stomach just from the way he was looking at you. His eyes were soft but steadily looking into yours, and each second felt like three years.

"So you're saying that those assumptions aren't true?" you tease gently, subtly moving to lean your shoulder against his. He noticed this immediately.

"God!" he laughs, slightly offended but still playing along, "do they seem true?"

"No," you say a bit softer with a smile, your eyes unintentionally drifting down to his pink lips. He noticed this too.

"Okay, good," he leans in a little more, your lips only a handful of inches apart now ".. 'cause they're definitely not."

"Really?" you chuckle, still teasing him.

He nods, "Really, really."

You could feel your heart beating rapidly in your ribcage, and then you started to wonder if he could hear it. Your lips part, little breaths being let out as you lean in an extra two inches. He smirks, and then you feel him move his right hand off of the bed and over your thigh. Its gentle and almost hesitant; giving you the opportunity to say 'no' if you wanted to.. but you didn't. you definitely didn't want to say no.

Your breathing hitches a little and your thighs shift slightly to capture his fingers between your limbs, and he looks steadily into your eyes as his digits squeeze your flesh softly.

"I'm not that shy," he murmurs lowly.

And then his lips are on yours, hot and hungry and eager to please. Your brows furrow as you kiss him back with equal ferocity, and his other hand moves to gently cup your cheek.

His tongue lathes over your bottom lip, and you open your mouth wider so that he can slide it in and taste you better. He groans softly against your smooth, parted lips, his hand between your thighs sliding up to press his palm against your clothed heat. A shaky, barely audible moan escapes your lips as this happens, and he swallows it down as he kisses you harder.

Art's hands then move to slide under your athletic tank top, and he pulls away with lidded eyes to mumble lowly and warmly against your jaw, "can I take this off?"

You nod feverishly, breathing heavily, as you lift your arms above your head while he pulls your shirt up and over. He tosses it aside once it's off like it's trash to him, and then he's diving back in to kiss and suck and nip at your neck. You're sure that he'll leave marks, but you can't find the strength or willpower to deny how hot it would be to look in the mirror later and see all of the little red blotches that his pretty mouth left behind. A few soft "ahh"s and "oh"s slip from your parted lips as his tongue flicks over your pulse point like its a clit, and you can feel your cunt clench around nothing. Without further warning, both of his hands slide up to grope your breasts over your sports bra, and your back arches instantly.

"I want to see more of you," Art whispers against your neck, one of his hands moving back to gently grope your thigh right under the hem of your shorts, while his other starts to hook one of his fingers under the elastic band of your bra.

"Yeah, yes," you mumble and nod, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel his silky tongue lap gently over the sensitive spot on your lower neck again.

He pulls back, his lips shiny with his own saliva, and he lets out a small huff of air as he stands up from the bed and shifts to stand in front of where you're trembling on the edge of it.

Your eyes meet his, and you now fully realize that his whole "nice guy" thing was a facade.. maybe it was just a protective cloak he put on until he got comfortable..

Regardless, he looked different now as he stood in front of you, breathing heavily as his gaze drank in the sight of your body. He takes a step closer, his knees touching the end of the bed as his legs stood steadily between yours. He looks down, shifting his left knee to push your legs farther apart, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to stifle a whine.

Not a moment later, he's reaching down to pull your tight sports bra over your head. It drops from his grasp onto the floor, his breathing hitches as he looks down at your exposed chest, and then his hands are moving to roughly knead and squeeze at your soft flesh underneath his palms. You shudder and bite your lip. He thumbs your nipples.

His eyes move back up to return your gaze, and he leans down and starts to crawl on top of you, his body gently coaxing yours to lay back flat over the patterned comforter. You don't need a verbal cue from him to know what he wants and what his goal is; his body did all the talking -- just like it did when he played tennis.

"Fuck," he breathes out, his erection straining against the inside of his boxers as it presses against your bare abdomen. A lift of your hips is all the indication he needs from you to tell him that you're as desperate for this as he is right now, and so he gingerly begins to slide one of his hands down the front of your shorts. His touch dips under the waistband, and then before you can process the sensation, you realize that he's moving down into your panties too. One thing that you are painfully aware of, though, is the fact that he never tries to break eye contact while he does all this..

"Ahh.." you moan, your brows pinching up as you feel his warm fingertips brush over your throbbing, sensitive nub. He was hardly touching you, but it was enough to get the fire roaring in your guts. It was more than enough. He knew all the right ways to touch you.. and all the right spots to squeeze and caress.. which seemed crazy considering you two had never spoken to one another until about three or so hours ago.

He smiles gently, his eyes now moving to gaze down at your lips. The pads of Art's fingers begin to play with your clit, rubbing soft and incessant circles over the ball of nerves as you start to squirm on the bed. His head leans back down to kiss your neck and your hands shakily grab onto his shoulders. A laugh escapes him, coating your flesh in a bath of warm air, while he feels your nails dig into him. Even over the fabric of his cotton tee shirt he can feel this, and he winces slightly before the sting of your grip dissolves into pleasure and he starts to moan along with you.

A few more minutes of this go on, and the band in your stomach is stretched more and more until it feels like it's about to snap, and then-

"I really want to fuck you right now," Art murmurs against your skin, his fingers coming to a pause as he pulls his face from the crook of your neck to look down into your dazed eyes.

You blink a few times, feeling the numbing pressure in your pussy start to fade as he unintentionally edges you.

"yes, please.. I want you to.." you softly whimper, your hands reaching up to needily tug at his shirt.

"I don't have a condom," he whispers breathlessly, shaking his head softly as his gaze falls onto your lips now.

"I.." you pause, taking a second to breathe as you attempt to think over the predicament you're now in, "uhm.. I- well, I don't really care.. as long as you pull out.."

It's almost as if just the idea of him being able to be inside of you-- skin to skin; raw--sets him off, because the moment the words leave your mouth, he's letting out soft breathy moans and grinding his clothed pelvis against your thigh. You can feel him throbbing through the fabric, and now you're certain you can't wait much longer. Neither can he.

Your hands pull on his shirt again, forcing his face back down close to yours, "I want you inside of me.."

A groan and a grunt later, he's scrambling to pull his shirt off, and then his shorts, and then his strong calloused hands are gently tugging yours down as well. Art doesn't want to waste time on the act of undressing. Sure, he liked being tender and going slow most times, but this occasion was different. The more that he felt himself leaking into his underwear, the more he needed to feel your silky cunt grip around his cock. Maybe if he got your number after all this, he could go slow next time, but not now. Not when he's like this and you're like that.

When your panties are pulled down with your shorts, Art lets out a groan as he sees the fabric connecting with your delicate flesh via a glistening string of arousal from your heat.

"Jesus Christ," he huffs, his tongue moving to dip out over his bottom lip involuntarily. He pushes your shorts and panties down the rest of the way, and you urgently kick them off onto the room's carpet.

After he moves back up, one of his hands reaches down once again to your cunt. His fingers gently brush over your slicked-up folds, causing your body to jolt and shudder as you struggle to remain quiet. In the next instant, you feel his touch leave your body and you watch in awe as he brings his digits up to his lips and sucks your juices off of them. He rolls your wetness around over his tongue and his eyes roll back a little. He can't help it -- you just taste so fuckin' good.

"Art," you whisper, your voice dissolving into a soft whine, "c'mon.. just- I want you to-"

You're cut off when the man hovering over your form moves his fingers from his mouth and down to yours, effectively shutting you up.

"Suck," he whispers.

You do as you're told instantly, parting your lips to engulf his middle and ring finger in wet heat; your drool pools over his fingertips as your tongue swirls around them and tastes the mix of his saliva and the remnants of your arousal.

He watches with bated breath as you do this, his eyes never leaving your face, and he cant stop himself from pushing his hard, clothed dick against your bare cunt. Your eyes flutter. A string of whimpers echo out into the room from your chest, and you can feel more of your wetness slide down from your entrance.

Art keeps his fingers in your mouth as he uses his other hand to pull his hard-on out of his black boxer briefs, groaning as he taps your clit with the tip of it a few times. Each time his leaking cockhead touches your sensitive parts, your hips buck up. He didn't think it was physically possible to get as turned on as he was right then.

He shifts his pelvis back so that he can slide his dick over your sticky body, not pushing in quite yet, but just teasing your greedy hole. The feeling of your heady moans around his fingers cause them to vibrate, and he leans down close to your face on instinct.

Your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes blink open and you whimper as he uses his digits to gently force your lips to part so that he can shove his tongue past them. Art licks at the inside of your mouth, groaning while he subtly removes his fingers and brings them down to your clit once more. He slots your bundle of nerves between his index and middle finger, sliding them up and down to effectively stroke over your most sensitive area as you feel his cock prodding at your hole.

While his tongue laps over yours, his mouth eagerly swallowing the obscenely loud moans you're letting out as your climax approaches once again, he begins to slide his tip into you. Your eyes instantly open wide before your face scrunches up in pleasure and your hands desperately paw at his shoulders.

He slides in another inch.

And another.

And then two more.

And then he bottoms out completely, filling you wholly with his twitching length as he pulls his face back from your lips to gasp softly.

You look up at him as his brows furrow, and you wriggle underneath him as he lets out a soft growl.

"You're so tight.. shit, you feel so good," he murmurs lowly, his eyes on yours as he starts to slide himself slowly back out before thrusting back in. You can feel him hit your cervix. You'd let him bruise it if he wanted to.

And he wants to.

"Fuck me harder," you moan softly.

"Yeah?" he smirks, breathing heavily.

"Yeah."

He leans up so that his back is straight, and he gazes down at you while he slides his hands under your form to gingerly cup your lower back.. and then he's pounding into you without further warning.

Your back arches up from his hold, and every thrust of his thick cock into your cunt is sending explosions of numbing heat throughout your lower half.

Each movement of his hips results in a lewd squelch as his pelvis slaps into the underside of your ass, and every movement sends you closer and closer to the edge. He's groaning and moaning above you, watching your every move as you squirm around and take him properly. You want to be good for him; he can tell.

Whimpers and needy whines are forced out of you as he fucks you with abandon into the mattress, and your mind is forced back into reality once you feel his hands move from your back to your sensitive tits.

"Are you gonna cum? You're squeezing down on me," he breathes out, a loud groan cutting his words off as he tips his head back. His thrusts grow sloppier, "oh god, oh fff-u-uck.."

"Ye-- Uhh- Ahh-!" you hoarsely and brokenly moan out, unable to fully give him an answer. Your hands fist the cool sheets under you as your legs start to involuntarily squeeze together with the onslaught of your impending orgasm.

Art brings his head back up to look down at you, and he shakes his head, sliding his hands down from your breasts to your legs to lift them up and spread them apart gently but forcefully.

"Keep them spread.. I know you're close," he says softly to you, "I promise I'll let you come.. just keep being good for me.. I'm almost there.."

Once his words fill your fuzzy head, you can't help but let out an obscenely loud---borderline-pornographic---moan as your thighs shake in his hold. His cock slams into you faster, but with less and less precision. He bites his lip before his jaw slacks and he lets out an equally loud moan to accompany your filthy noises.

"You're so fucking pretty... you're so-- you feel so damn good," he babbles gruffly, his touch digging into your legs as his hips rashly thrust his throbbing length in and out of your sopping pussy.

You nod, unsure of what to say or how to even respond in the state that your body is in. You're somehow limp and tense at the same time, your body shivering as your back arches up again.

"I-- I'm gonna--!" you gasp out in a shaky whimper.

He moans at your words, fucking you deeper and messier, before he leans down over you and you can feel his broad toned chest press against yours.

"Say it.." he breathes out against your ear in a soft groan.

You moan, shuddering under him as your cunt starts to rhythmically tighten around him.

"I'm gonna cum," you whine, nearly sobbing.

"Fuck," he groans, "yeah? Say it again for me."

"I'm gonna cummm-!"

"You wanna cum on my cock?"

You nod helplessly, your arms wrapped around his flushed upper back as his cock slides in and out of you; his tip constantly brushing up against that special spot in your velvety walls hidden just a couple inches inside.

"Yess-s-!" you moan, your body absolutely writhing on the bed under his heavy form.

"Okay.. alright," he breathes out hotly into your neck, "go on and cum for me."

Before you can process what's going on, your body is overwhelmed with an overpowering heat as the last thing you distinctly feel is one of Art's hands moving down your lower abdomen to then rub circles over your swollen bud with his thumb. And that's all it takes -- You’re thrown over the edge.

"Fuck! OH MY GOD, OH--!" you cry out, your nails digging into his back as he fucks you through your climax.

He groans harshly and loudly against your warm skin before his hips stutter with the feeling of your hole pulsing around him. He keeps his digit rubbing incessant, soft circles over your clit to prolong your orgasm as he forces himself to pull out with a gasp.

His balls draw up and he reaches down quickly with his other hand to stroke over his length just as he feels his release start to rise up.

As you moan tremblingly and bask in your afterglow, you try to catch your breath as you shakily push yourself up onto your elbows just in time to watch Art squirt out a thick load over your torso. Rope after rope of sticky white fluid drips and gushes from his cock and between his fingers as he jerks himself off; shuddering deeply over you and letting out little "fuck"s and "oh my god"s and "yes"s.

After a few more shaky moments tick by, his thumb comes to a halt over your clit as he watches the last drops of his cum fall onto your stomach.

He breathes heavily, biting his lip as he watches your body shake. He loves the way his cum looks on your beautiful body.. it's like liquid pearl splattered all over you. He takes several mental pictures of the scene in front of him before he collapses on top of you with a soft grin.

You chuckle breathily, wrapping your arms around him as your warm bodies stick together in the aftermath, and he presses two soft kisses to your neck. One of your hands slides up from between his shoulder blades to run some of your fingers through his messy curls. He shivers and sighs, sliding his hands under your body to hold you closer to him.

A small period of comfortable silence is held between you two as you both work to catch your breaths, before Art is the one to break the quiet with a soft murmur into your shoulder.

"So.. can I get your number?"

"After round two," you whisper with a smile.

"Deal."

note; this is for everyone who voted for soft dom!art donaldson in that poll + the anons in my inbox asking for this sort of dynamic w/ art <3 much much much love !

divider credit: @benkeibear <3

[sttoru]

𝝑𝑒 synopsis. tired of the continuous bullying you’re receiving from the other concubines, you finally decide to stand up for yourself. the tension dulls when lord sukuna breaks the fight up.

tags. true form!ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader. sfw - angst kinda, little suggestive. mentions of bullying. violence. fighting. vile language. reader gets referred to as a ‘bitch, slut, whore’ by the concubines. reader gets referred to as ‘brat, woman’ by sukuna. not beta read bcs im sleepy. @ohimsummer, thank you for the idea LOL

you’re tired. tired of being treated like less by the others in sukuna’s harem. they’re salty—jealous—because of the shameless favoritism sukuna shows. you’re his favorite, the one he can’t seem to get enough of.

that’s exactly why you’re on the floor right now. you’ve fallen to your knees after tripping over a concubine’s foot. you were passing by to go to your headquarters, though apparently such a mundane thing can’t happen in this place without some woman interfering in the worst way possible.

“oops,” the blonde one laughs as she sees you on the wooden floor. you’re covered in food and some. . . gooey beverage. you don’t know what it is, but it’s making everything feel uncomfortably sticky. your clothes, your fingers, your skin. it’s starting to itch.

“should’ve looked where you were going,” another girl chimes in. the brunette. she feigns pity and throws a handkerchief in your face, causing the other concubines to giggle. there are three of them in total. they always stick together to bully you.

the one with green eyes speaks up as well, “now now, don’t be so harsh to the poor slut! she’s got no brain to use after all.”

the other two laugh as you try your best to stay calm. you’re always telling yourself to be the bigger person in difficult situations. you’re clenching your hands into fists, your body basically trembling in anger. you want to swing. to show them that you’re worthy of respect.

“aww, she’s gonna cry,” the blonde one pouts—a mocking pout that gets on your nerves. the laughs sounding from the trio are like nails on a chalkboard. you want to make it stop. you’re tired of keeping it civil, when they have never tried doing the same.

your eyes land on the serving tray next to your hands. the one they emptied on your head ‘by accident’. you take a deep breath and try to remind yourself that it’s probably best to go wash up. they desperately want a reaction out of you and you refuse to give it to them.

despite it all, you’re mad. you’ve gone through enough of this. all because of sukuna’s favoritsm. all because you’re you.

they’re salty that they can never be you. you’ve seen their pathetic attempts to put you down yet simultaneously try and copy your entire existence. thinking that would somehow get them in your position as sukuna’s favorite.

you’re sick and tired of it. today’s the day you show them exactly that. you’re going to show those women that you can and will beat some sense into them.

“oy, dumb slut, answ—” the blonde is interupted before she could finish her sentence. a loud bang reverberates through the hallway and everyone falls silent.

she’s the one on the floor now instead of you. you’re up, the wooden tray in your hands, the one you just used to smack the life out of her. she’s whimpering and holding her red cheek. a nasty bruise is sure to form on her skin; deserved.

“i’ll answer you, alright,” you mumble under your breath. you’re panting as the adrenaline keeps pumping. you stand over her and lift up the serving platter in the air once more—bringing it down over and over against her head, which she’s trying to shield with her hands.

the other two concubines are frozen in pure shock. you’re not thinking anymore. you’re on autopilot. the woman’s yelps and screeches are music to your ears. “hah. you sound as ugly as you look,” you spit on her, watching the blood trickle down the corner of her mouth. you lift your arms up to bring the wooden platter down on her body again, but you’re stopped.

the green eyed concubine had moved first. she grabs your wrists with one hand and smacks you across the face with the other. “have you lost your mind?!” she yells and raises her hand to slap you again. the disrespect you’re showing clearly was not expected nor is it welcomed.

“don’t you fucking touch me,” you kiss your teeth. you’re glaring at her with pure hatred. you push and slap her right back. you’re sure the blonde won’t be up for a while now—she’s done for.

you don’t know if you went a bit overboard with it, considering she’s barely conscious anymore, but you couldn’t care less at the moment.

you’re surprised when the third concubine yanks your hair. “oh, you little bitch!” the brunette grabs a bunch of your hair with both hands and tugs at it to drag you down on the floor. you wince in pain but quickly pull at her own brown locks. you struggle to keep your balance and your scalp aches.

you hate it when women go for your hair when fighting, though luckily you know your way out of it. you take a deep breath and bring her head down, lifting your left leg up at the same time. her forehead comes crashing down on your knee and she loosens her grip on your hair.

“disgusting,” you huff and take the opportunity to push her fragile body aside, making her trip over the blonde girl on the floor. you can’t help but think that your current state is quite similar to a certain someone.

the violence. the seething anger. you’ve seen this scene way too many times before. you’ve learnt it from him.

your thoughts are interrupted by someone pulling the back of your hair, causing you to stumble backwards. “a whore like you needs to be taught some manners,” the green eyed concubine sniffs and keeps a tight grip on your hair. she delivers a few punches to your face, which you actually struggle to block for a second.

the force hitting your nose makes it bleed. that only angers you further. you gather some saliva in your mouth before spitting it out right in the girl’s eyes. you take your chance and grab her hair, smashing her head against the nearby fusuma. the thin plaster the sliding doors are made out of breaks, and she falls right through into the other room.

“i think you all need to be taught how to act,” you pant and wipe the blood dripping down your chin with the back of your hand. you walk through the opening you made in the frail door, kicking the concubine right in the face as revenge for the nosebleed she gave you.

you crouch down, your fingers tangling into her hair. you yank her head up and stare her right in the eyes. there’s an eerie, dark look in yours. “why can’t you just accept that you’re nothing but trash in your lord’s eyes?” you sneer. you are pitying them instead of the other way around, like how it usually would be.

and they despise it.

“you fucking—” “bitch? slut? whore?” you finish her sentence for her with an exasperated sigh. you’ve heard those insults a thousand times before. it’s nothing new. it’s always the same nasty and repetitive comments. you slap the concubine in front of you again for good measure before standing up, “you should come up with something new. it’s getting boring.”

you walk over to the other two, who are still recovering. you add to your last comment with a shrug, trying to hit them where it hurts, “your repetitiveness explains why lord sukuna rarely calls for you at night. i bet your severe lack of creativity shows even in bed.”

“you’re just a boring and hopeless bunch,” you’re out for blood. the blonde and brunette are looking up at you with fear and the sight excites you for some reason. they’re crawling away, trying to go find someone who would save them. the servants are nowhere to be found. nor is uraume, who usually stops the petty arguments.

they’re terrified by how you’re acting right now. they’re clearly seeing sukuna in you. in your eyes and the aura you’re emitting.

you’re mirroring him, his merciless personality and all included. he’s subconsciously taking over your mind and it’s terrifying them.

your steps are heavy as you walk towards the concubines. you don’t pay attention to the blood trickling down your chin, nor do you care about the ache in your scalp from the earlier hair pulling. all you care about is getting revenge for yourself.

you could complain to sukuna and have him punish them in your place, but that wouldn’t be enough. you’re going to make sure that they don’t try you again any time soon. you grab the blonde by her arm, lifting your fist to punch her—

“oi, brat.”

your eyes widen and you snap out of your mad daze. sukuna’s voice shakes the floors with how loud it is. you whip your head to the side and see his tall figure standing at the end of the hallway—uraume being right behind him. it looks like they were the one that rushed to inform sukuna of the ruckus.

you drop the other concubine and look at the mess. the broken fusuma. the blood splatter on the wooden flooring. your disheveled hair and clothes. your bleeding nose. the crimson stained plate and spilt food that got everywhere.

it’s a complete mess.

sukuna doesn’t utter a word. he just glares right at you. you’re not sure if it’s because of your irresponsible behaviour or the mess you created. or both. he marches over to you and grabs you by the back of your collar with one big hand.

“m-my lord,” you whimper, nearly choking as you’re held up in the air like you weigh nothing, like one would do to a cat’s nape. one of sukuna’s hands keeps you up whilst the others hang limply by his side. his red eyes scan your body, moving up and then back down.

you don’t know what to say. you surely have overstepped a boundary - or multiple - with what you’ve done today. you’ve disturbed the peace in the estate and have caused damage to sukuna’s property. both to his women and the interior of his palace.

you cough up a bit of blood that was stuck in the back of your throat. you’re uncertain of how you should explain yourself. “i’m sorry, my lord. i didn’t know what came over me,” you apologise and look down at the floor below your feet. you’re too embarrassed to look the king of curses in the eyes.

sukuna stays silent. it’s nerve wracking since you have no idea what he’ll do in response to your outburst. his facial expression is blank, so you aren’t able to guess what’s going on in his head. it’s a complete mystery.

however, the tall man is secretly more amused than anything. what you’ve just done, is one of the most interesting things he has seen a human do. sukuna witnessed everything from the beginning to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. from the way you used that serving plate as a weapon to the way you managed to get out of those concubines’ grasps each time.

it’s strange to sukuna; he felt something when he saw you in action like that.

pride? perhaps that’s it. sukuna can’t pinpoint the exact emotion, though if he were to describe it, the closest word would be indeed pride. he is proud to have discovered and witnessed that untamed side of yours. you’re always full of pleasant surprises that keep even a dangerous curse like him on his toes.

it’s why he will never get bored of you. he wishes to unleash your full potential one day.

sukuna finally breaks the silence with an amused snicker. one of his hands move to wipe the blood from your nose. you cringe when he slowly licks the red liquid from his fingers afterwards—clearly ravishing the metallic taste.

“y’ finally did something, huh?” sukuna grins wickedly. he knows of the harassment you’ve been going through and he couldn’t wait to see you snap like this one day.

it’s sickening that he allows the bullying to continue just for the sake of creating drama, but it’s also worth it to him, since he’s got to unlock a side of you he knew you had buried deep inside. sukuna is a selfish bastard. you know that much, yet you like it when he looks at you with a prideful gaze and grin.

it’s so obvious that sukuna took pleasure in what he’s witnessed. he couldn’t believe how much you actually resembled him in a way.

if he were to be honest: it turned him on like crazy. seeing how you fought back against those women and how nearly deranged you became. the degrading words you spewed. . . sukuna cannot get enough of it. if it were up to him, he’d have let you continue. but for your own sake, he decided against it.

as much as he loves that untamed side of yours, sukuna knew that he couldn’t let you go too far. not because he wants to defend those other women, but because he still needs you to stay sane. going down that path of violence surely will do you more damage than good.

he’ll fully corrupt you - your body and mind - one day. just not today.

sukuna lets you back on your feet after you nearly fail to breathe. he cocks his head to the side, still having a menacing smirk on his face. he roughly pinches your cheek, “it was entertaining, i’ll give you that, woman.”

you wince as sukuna pinches the exact cheek you had a bruise on. he’s never done so before, therefore you don’t have a clue about the meaning behind that gesture. though the compliment told you that he was pleased by the ruckus more than he was annoyed by it.

sukuna still hasn’t bat an eye to the other concubines. they are waiting for their lord to punish you for hurting them, but it all seems to be in vain. they know better than to speak up about that to him. they’re easily replaceable. they know that by now. it’s as clear as day.

you’ve drilled that into their head today.

the king of curses pushes your small body towards uraume and you nearly bump against their chest with how easily he moved you around. uraume catches you in time and helps you stand straight, awaiting their master’s orders.

sukuna checks you out one more time in that disheveled state, before you go back to your formal and reserved self. his interest in you has been piqued by today’s events and he wonders when he can experience that side of yours again. he nods at uraume, “make sure she’s properly taken care of.”

uraume doesn’t waste a single second after being given an order. “understood,” they reply curtly and keep you steady so you could walk with them towards the physician’s quarters.

you look up at sukuna, trying to catch a glimpse of him before you’re taken away. he’s staring right back at you, the corners of his lips twitching into another subtle grin. he’s surprisingly pleased and content with your actions.

however it’s also not so surprising, considering that he loves it when you show any hint of resistance or stubbornness. whether it’d be to him or to his concubines.

sukuna’s facial expression turns cold the moment you’re gone and he’s left with the mess. “she took the words right out of my mouth,” he stares down at the three women on the floor who’re still unable to stand. he’s not helping them up—that’s their own problem, “y’re a pathetic bunch.”

the concubines flinch as they hear the inevitable from their own lord. hearing it from you was frustrating, but hearing it directly from the man that’s taken them in is heartbreaking. they don’t dare look up at him in such pitiful states.

“all three of you,” sukuna addresses them sharply. his arms cross over his chest, a ruthless tone to his voice. the concubines tremble in his presence, though it’s partially still because of the fear you’ve implemented in their systems.

he would’ve killed them off right then and there, though you’ve done enough damage to them both physically and mentally for now.

sukuna however, still couldn’t care less about their wellbeing. their wounds and bruises are something they’ll need to fix on their own.

he points at the floor and broken door with his head before turning around to leave the miserable trio. sukuna leaves them with an order that’s usually left to the servants;

“clean up the damn mess you caused. it better be taken care of before i return. ‘nd i don’t wanna hear a single squeak from any of you about this.”

[tender-rosiey]

Hey you lovely human :) Just dropped in to say I bumped into blog like yesterday and since then I ATE (almost) everything Gojo related (still have a couple left), like I genuinely am in LOVE with everything. If you are ever willing to take upon this idea, I was curious about how you see Gojo meeting his significant other and falling in love ? Would love to see the beginning of their relationship and how they ended up together. Thank you and since is already weekend here for me almost - i hope you have a gorgeous weekend!! ^^

creepy eyes — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: AHHH THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY OMG TYYYYY and i am so sorry that i took so long </3 ANYWAY this is how I imagine gojo first meeting his wife cause i believe that it has to be before gojo closed off and that she became a trusted and close friend of his

it’s just another afternoon at jujutsu high, the sun bathing the grounds in a soft glow, casting long shadows as students hurry from class to class.

you’re deep in thought, focused on training, when you suddenly collide with something solid—or rather, someone.

you stumble back a step, blinking up at the towering figure now standing before you. you glance up, only to find yourself staring into a pair of eyes—bright, intense, and painfully blue.

the boy is about to say something, but you beat him.

“my god, your eyes are creepy,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

there’s a beat of stunned silence.

the giant’s mouth drops open slightly, his eyebrows raise in sheer disbelief as if you’ve just insulted the most precious thing in the world to him.

“my eyes?!” he gasps, hand flying dramatically to his chest. “you think my eyes are creepy?”

you nod, grimacing at the loud sound, “yeah, they're unnerving. kind of like staring into a bottomless pit.”

satoru is scandalized. “my eyes are beautiful!” his voice pitches higher, as if stating a fact that should be universally accepted.

he tilts his head closer to you and taking his glasses off, daring you to look again. “take another look! appreciate them!”

you squint, unimpressed, and simply shrug, brushing past him, “I’ll pass.”

that’s the beginning.

days turn into weeks, and the more you try to forget about that initial encounter, the more satoru won’t let you. every time you cross paths, it’s like he has a personal mission to make you take back that one insult.

whether it’s during training, at lunch, or in the hallway, satoru somehow finds a way to bring it up.

“you still don’t think my eyes are nice?” he asks, exaggeratedly crestfallen, peering at you with that playful gleam.

“yeah, still creepy.”

“but why?” he exclaims, leaning against the doorframe or sitting next to you with a theatrical sigh. “do you not see the sparkle? the beauty? the endless charm?”

it becomes such a regular thing that even suguru can’t help but get involved. he appears at satoru’s side, casually rolling his eyes at his friend’s dramatics, though a smirk plays on his lips.

“you’re still on about that?” geto quips. “maybe just accept that she has good taste, satoru.”

“oh, shut up, suguru! she’s just blind to my perfection!” satoru retorts, crossing his arms as he watches you chat away with shoko.

and so it goes. satoru’s relentless teasing—half playful, half desperate—starts weaving into the fabric of your days.

every time you think he’ll finally let it go, he’s right there, flashing that expectant grin as if waiting for you to finally give in.

months pass. the seasons start to shift, but satoru's persistence doesn’t.

he keeps bugging you about it—less often than before, but every once in a while, he'll find an opportunity.

whether it's during class or during a mission, he brings it up with that same confident, teasing smile.

it’s a lazy afternoon when it happens.

you’re outside, lounging against a tree in the sun with a book in hand, trying to relax after a mission when satoru flops down beside you, elbow nudging yours.

his sunglasses slip down the bridge of his nose as he grins at you. “still think they’re creepy?”

you don’t even look up from your book. “yup.”

he leans in, resting his chin on his hand, giving you that pout again. “come on, you’re just being mean at this point.”

you stifle a laugh, flipping a page. “am I?”

satoru lets out a dramatic sigh, “you’re impossible, you know that? these eyes are a national treasure.”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips this time. it makes satoru blink, clearly caught off guard by the sound.

he tilts his head, eyes narrowing in curiosity as he leans closer to your face. “wait… was that a real laugh? are you finally admitting I’m funny?”

you roll your eyes, looking away from him as you smile. “don’t push your luck.”

he grins widens at the sight of your smile, and he is about to boast of his achievement when you glance at him. with amusement still tugging at your lips, you reach out and push his sunglasses up with a playful tap.

“fine, fine,” you relent, voice teasing as you give him a small grin,“I think your eyes are very pretty.”

for once, satoru’s the one caught off guard.

he blinks rapidly, a flash of surprise flickering across his face as he pulls himself away and tries process your words.

your smile doesn’t falter, but satoru’s eyebrows furrow, before he chirps, standing up, “well—it’s about time you admitted that!”

your eyes widen, as he gets loud and starts ranting about his beauty, “it is only natural that you succumb to my charms! ahaha! my eyes are only one part of it!”

confused but having nothing to say, you lean back against the bark. you don’t mention out loud that his ears are tinted pink, not that satoru would give you the chance to call him out.

but you both know that something has changed.

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do not copy or plagiarize

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[zoldsick]

── Lagneía

𓍊𓋼𓍊 summary: shanks x f!reader - as the newest member of the red hair pirates, you have a long way to go to prove yourself, not only to your crew mates but your cocky captain as well. Unfortunately, things fall apart after a little excursion and a run-in with a glowing mushroom that has you feeling...hot.

𓍊𓋼𓍊 tags: smut, sex pollen, nsfw, dubcon (it's sex pollen, ya know how it is), MDNI

𓍊𓋼𓍊 wordcount: ~8k

𓍊𓋼𓍊 Read on AO3

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

You really did respect your Captain, though you didn’t tend to show it. 

Benn Beckman was the one who had recruited you when he stumbled upon you in a gambling hall. You had been using Observation Haki to beat the dealer, racking up thousands in berri. Beckman clocked your underhanded method and cornered you outside the casino. You were nervous that he would report you to the authorities, but as luck would have it, he turned out to be a pirate. He was impressed by your advanced skills in Haki, and the two of you hit it off. Eventually, he brought you to the Red Force and introduced you to Shanks, who did not give the best first impression. 

“Who’s the kid?” Shanks questioned, barely looking up from his drink. 

He immediately rubbed you the wrong way. 

Beckman cleared his throat before you could tear him a new one, “This is Y/N. They’re who I told you about, the one gifted in Observation Haki.” 

Shanks finally looked up from his drink, lazily trailing his eyes from your feet, all the way to your face. He finally met your eyes and you struggled to maintain your composure under the immense pressure of his gaze. You lifted your chin, desperate to keep your dignity. 

Shanks kept his eyes on yours, his gaze intense as he questioned you, “And why should you be a part of my crew? Have you ever been around pirates or even worked as one? It’s dangerous work. Are you sure you’re ready for this kind of lifestyle, kid?” 

“I didn’t come here to be interrogated by some old man,” you bit back quickly.

Shanks put his hand over his heart dramatically, feigning emotional pain. 

“Listen, Red Hair, I came here as a favor to Beckman, I don’t have anything to prove to you.” You paused as the hair on the back of your neck stood up, “And if your friend hiding over there even thinks about shooting that spitball at me, I’m walking.” 

Beckman looked surprised, but Shanks only smiled. There was a clatter and some swearing before another man with dreadlocks emerged behind nearby ship supplies. “Well, shit. So much for that plan, Captain. Seems like she’s the real deal.” The man then jokingly blew the spitball at Shanks, who to your dismay, easily dodged it. 

“Color me impressed.” You look back to see Shanks smiling up at you. “You have a lot of potential. Let’s work hard together, Y/N.”

… 

While you didn’t join the Red Hair Pirates for Shanks, you became proud to be part of his crew over time. You had been sailing for around 6 months and were glad to say you had quickly proved your worth. Although there were members with better Haki skills, you knew you were improving every day with each new experience. 

You hated to admit it, but your captain occupied much of your thoughts. You often wondered if Shanks knew just how hard you were still trying to prove yourself to him. Though you saw him often, you rarely ever worked with him directly. In fact, you’d barely spoken to one another after your first meeting. You had occasionally exchanged a few words, formalities really, at mealtimes and during duty; but a part of you wished there was more. Though, you would never let him know that. 

You always put on a tough face in front of him, using words to bite back and hold your ground against the confident, and often cocky, Emperor of the Sea. Truthfully, after your first meeting you had come to admire him, and were slightly intimidated by the powerful man. 

While sailing the Grand Line in the New World, the ship stumbled upon an uninhabited island. It was a warm, tropical island, thick with jungle and vines. Shanks decided that the crew would depart and explore the island for supplies, and Roux hoped to find some edible plants and animals for their stock. 

All active members of the crew made groups and departed from the Red Force, but since you were not on shift, you’d decided to sleep in. When you awoke and found the ship docked, you decided it would be fun to explore the island as well. It was better than being cooped up all day in the barracks. 

As you stepped down the ladder a cheery familiar voice called down to you, “And where do you think you’re going, kid?” 

You jumped at your captain’s voice and looked up to see him. His hand gripped a rigging rope, holding him as he stood on the rail’s ledge, and leaned far off the ship to gaze down at you. His hair fell over his face, but his smile was still visible. 

“God, Captain. You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

“Well, I’m just trying to make sure our ship’s hawkeye doesn’t stray too far and get into trouble,” he teased. 

“I’m not getting into trouble,” you grumbled as you looked back down to continue your descent onto the sand. “I just wanted to explore the island like everyone else.” 

“Alone?” His smile slightly faltered. 

“Is there a problem with that?” You ask, confused about where this conversation was going. 

“Well, we can’t afford to lose a member with skills like yours. I’ll come with you.” 

You reached the bottom of the ladder and looked up at Shanks in shock, “That really isn’t necessary, Captain. I don’t plan on going far-”

“Nonsense. Besides, you’re not much of a fighter, you should have a bodyguard when you go to unfamiliar places. And I have a duty to protect the valuable members of my crew.” As he said this he jumped from the railing and landed next to you. 

You did your best to hide how flustered you were, “There are other members with better Observation Haki than I do, you included.” 

Shanks tsked at your objection. He looked hard at you and spoke genuinely,  “Don’t sell yourself short. I heard about how you helped the snipers take out that marine ship last week. And I heard how you helped guide the navigator through the rocky sea and fog the other day. I’ve only ever heard other crew members praising you.” 

You quickly turned away from the red-haired man adjusting the strap on your bag. You knew you couldn’t stop the blush that was forming on your face, so you turned around to start walking into the jungle. “I just do what I’m told, Captain.” You quickly dismissed him, “Are you coming, or what?” 

Shanks laughed as he caught up with you, walking ever so slightly behind you. The walk was silent as the two of you marched deeper and deeper into the jungle, occasionally stopping to inspect certain plants or animals or collect samples in your bag. He enjoyed watching you as you took in the new landscape around you. He’d always found it fascinating to watch you while you concentrated. In fact, he had rarely taken his eyes off you since you’d joined his crew. 

From the second he met you, he knew you would be interesting. Shanks would be the first to admit he tested you during your first interaction. He purposefully pushed your buttons to see what you were made of. He needed to know how strong your resolve was before he let you, a stranger, onto his ship. And boy, did you meet his expectations, surpassed them even. Your insulting response nearly made him fall for you right then and there. But he knew his place as captain. He couldn’t risk showing special attention, let alone romantic attention to one of his subordinates. It was his job to keep you safe and provide you with a place to hone your abilities. He had to keep his distance. 

Yet… here he was, an Emperor of the Sea, trailing behind you like a puppy. He was rightfully worried to see you sneaking off the ship after the assigned explorers already left. He was doing this because it was the captain’s duty to protect his crew. At least, that’s what he told himself.

As you pushed your way deeper through the vines you tried to ignore the fact that Shanks was tailing you. This was just like any other outing with any other crewmate. You felt his eyes on you the entire time as you walked, but you tried not to let it affect your movements. Was he judging you? You felt a little more self-conscious than usual about what you stopped to look at or how you collected samples. Especially when you caught him staring intensely at your hands.  

You finally reached a large plateau. Looking up, you examined the wall looming far above your head, and at the base of the formation, there was an illuminated opening. 

“Shanks,” you called out to your captain, “there’s a cave over there.” 

Shanks shoved some pesky vines out of his face and looked toward where you were pointing. There was a small opening, barely 4 ft tall, and a blueish light was emanating from the abyss. You moved closer to the cave willing your senses to reach out and explain the phenomenon. You couldn’t sense any danger coming from the cave, so it was time to be like a pirate and explore. 

“I’m going to go in.” You stated as you dropped your bag to the ground and started making your way to the entrance. 

Shanks was quick, definitely not desperate, as he moved forward and grabbed your arm, “Woah! Hold on there. There is no way I can fit in there.” he gestured towards his large stature and again at the tiny entrance. 

You considered the situation and shrugged, “Then wait out here. I won't be long, I just want to check out what’s causing the glow.” 

Shanks frowned, realizing there was no point in arguing with you. “Alright, but be careful.”

You saluted him with an exaggerated hand on your brow and firmly stated,. “No.” 

You turned away from him and focused back on the cave opening.

“Brat.” you heard him mutter under his breath. You turned around quickly, did you hear that right? He had a smile on his face. 

You stared at him for a moment, a warm feeling blossoming in your chest. You smiled back before rolling your eyes and descending. 

The walls of the cave were rich in color, with layers of lichen growing throughout the chasm. You strained your ears to listen for any unseen threats that could have been lurking beyond your sight, but all you could hear was the rhythmic drip of the cave walls weeping. As you bent and contorted your body to ease your way through the damp walls, you could see the blue light growing in intensity ahead.

Finally, you reached a large pocket of space in the cave, enabling you to stand straight and take in your surroundings. As you stretched out your back you stared in awe at the sight before you. 

Dozens upon dozens of glowing mushrooms covered the room, growing across the walls and floor of the cave. The view was nothing short of dazzling, the light blue glow illuminating the space around you like nothing you had ever seen. 

You approached the fungus carefully, although they were beautiful, you knew well that not all beautiful things were good. You drew a handkerchief from your pocket and crouched forward to grab a sample. 

Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck stood straight, and your blood chilled. You trusted your instincts and rapidly jerked backwards from the mysterious mushrooms. Unfortunately, you were not fast enough. 

The gills of the mushrooms expanded and expelled a great mist of spores. The sickly sweet-smelling mist filled the room instantly and you yelped in surprise, feeling your way out of the room and back into the tunnel. You coughed as you darted through the veins of the cave desperate for fresh air and open spaces. You could hear Shanks calling out to you and you forced yourself to push forward toward his voice. 

Shanks was anxious from the moment he heard you cry out. He felt helpless, unable to fit into the cave. He briefly considered blowing a hole through the mountainside to get to you. Thankfully, hearing your panting and clawing as you made your way out of the cave stopped him. He placed his hand above the cave opening and began calling out to you, begging you to keep moving toward him. 

Shanks wasn’t prepared for what came out of that cave. 

You stumbled out of the suffocating walls and fell onto the grass in front of your captain. You could vaguely hear Shanks, his voice filled with worry, but you barely registered it. Something was wrong. Your clothes felt tight and itchy, you felt your cheeks warm while the rest of your body developed goosebumps from the jungle air hitting your skin. And most troubling, everything from the deepest part of your core felt tight and ticklish. 

Shanks knelt down, grabbing your shoulder to lift your gaze to him. The contact between the two of you sent electric shocks to your core. Sitting face to face with your captain you could barely breathe. At this distance, every feature of his face was at your fingertips. You took in your captain's features. The jagged shape of the scars that ran down his face, the prickly stubble he grew across his chin, his eyes bright with worry, the color of his lips…  It took you a moment to realize he was talking to you. 

“Y/N! Snap out of it! Y/N! What happened in there? What's going on?!” 

The seriousness of his tone did not reach you. Why did he look so worried? You wanted him to smile at you like before. You reached up and touched his cheek with the back of your hand. Taken aback by this gesture, Shanks froze for a moment, then grabbed your hand, pressing it to his face harder. “Y/N. I need you to tell me what happened in there. You can do that for me, right?”

Your eyes widened, coming back to your senses you groaned as you tried to move away from Shanks and stand, only to find that your legs were jelly. “Capt’n. What's happening?” 

Shanks let out a shaky laugh, “Well that's the million berri question right now, kid. Tell me what happened in the cave so I can help.” 

You push your hands into your eyes, struggling to retrieve your memories, “The glow,” you whispered, “The glow in the cave. It was some kinda, I dunno, mushroom. It puffed some dust on’ta me.” you panted your words out. 

“Good girl,” Shanks stroked your hair with his hand, “Now tell me, what did this mushroom look like?”

“Was so pretty, just like the sea. Blue and glowing.” You smiled at the memory of the beautiful sight. 

While you reminisced on the memory, Shanks froze, overcome with the realization of what he was dealing with.

 It happened several years before you joined the Red Hair Pirates. Shanks and Beckman were wasting the night away at some bar when a woman approached him. He had noticed the dark-haired beauty staring at him from across the bar but had paid no attention. It wasn't uncommon for him to get stares as an infamous pirate.

The woman set down a blue sparkling drink in front of Shanks, “Don't think you're from around here, handsome.” She smiled and batted her eyelashes at him, “How about we get to know each other over a couple’a drinks?”

Beckman stifled a snicker and Shanks shot him a glare. Looking back up at the woman, Shanks politely declined her advances, “Sorry, I'm afraid I'm not looking for any more company tonight,” Shanks slapped Beckman hard on the back making him wince, “This fella’s all the entertainment I'll need for the night.”

The woman tried to hide her annoyance with a smile, “Well then, sorry for interrupting.” She sneered as she turned away, “But the drink’s still on me. Do enjoy.” 

Shanks and Beckman eyed each other and the drink skeptically. “Poison?” Asked Beckman bluntly. 

Shanks let out a hearty laugh, “Well, only one way to find out!” And downed the sickly blue drink in seconds. 

Shanks was stuck in his room the rest of the night, fisting his cock and rutting into his mattress. He admitted it wasn't his best decision. Hongo guessed that based on the color he likely ingested an aphrodisiac made from a plant called the lagneía fungi. “I've heard of petty thieves using it on pirates to steal their loot.” Hongo looked at Shanks scornfully, “Can't believe our captain fell for something like that …”

Shanks shook his head refusing to believe the evidence right in front of him. No! It can't be that. He brought his gaze back down at you and examined your face. You were flushed red, your pupils were dilated, and your gaze wandered across his body. He reached out to touch your arm and you gasped, goosebumps exploding from his touch. He really couldn't deny it any longer. 

“Alright Y/n, don’t worry. You’re going to be just fine, just try not to panic.” Shanks spoke, trying to reassure the both of them. Despite his words, Shanks himself was panicking. What was he going to do with you? Sure, it's just an aphrodisiac, but truthfully the experience was borderline torture. Furthermore, judging by how quickly its effects were overcoming you, you must have gotten a serious dosage in your system. If you were a male member of his crew he would laugh it off and condemn you to your bunk with a porno mag like he had done for himself. But how could he let you of all people suffer alone like this? 

“Am I gonna die? Everything feels weird,” tears pricked at the edge of your eyes, “like I’m on fire.” 

“You’re not going to die.” Shanks insisted, “You’re just, going to be… uncomfortable for a little while. Let’s get you back to the ship so you can lie down.” Shanks bent down and grabbed one of your arms to maneuver you onto his back. Hoisting you up, your breath hitched as your center came into contact with Shanks’ back.

Shanks took off at a brisk pace, navigating the rough jungle terrain. You tried to take Shank’s advice to calm yourself, but you were distracted by the friction created between you and Shanks as he strode back to the ship at an agonizing pace. Everywhere you were touching him felt hot and unbearable. You began to feel a familiar sensation brewing in your lower abdomen. No way, there’s no way! You panicked at the feeling and tried to create distance between you and Shanks to alleviate the burning coil between your legs, but he gripped your thigh back, securing you to his back. “Stop squirming, are you trying to fall over?” 

“Captain, ugh.” You buried your head in his back, panting from the unintentional pleasure, “Please slow down. Wait, please sto- Ah!” Suddenly the pressure built up to its peak. You squirmed and shook against your Captain’s back, fingers digging into his shoulders, unable to control your movements or your voice. With a final moan and gasp, you pushed yourself backward off of Shanks’ back onto the jungle floor. 

Shanks circled back on his heels to find you curled up on the ground, “What are you doin-”

The realization hit him. He noted your shaking legs and rapid breaths and suddenly he became aware of a slightly damp spot on his back where your bodies had just been connected. He grappled with his own arousal seeing you like this, disheveled and glassy-eyed. 

“God, Captain. I’m so sorry,” You covered your face with your hands, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I couldn’t stop myself.” 

Shanks was kicking himself mentally as he watched you before him. Here you were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, and vulnerable; yet, there he was feeling himself getting hard at the sight. He’d wanted you for so long, wanted to make you his. Shanks licked his lips. He pushed down his indecent thoughts and turned his attention back to you. This wasn’t the time. You needed to get back to the ship, and right now that’s all that mattered. 

In one swift movement, he scooped you up, placing a hand under your legs, carrying you in his arm. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck in embarrassment as he took off running. He was fast. You felt the wind on your face as he swiftly maneuvered through the trees at a great speed, his black coat flapping in the wind behind him.  It took less than a minute for him to reach the ship. Shanks bounded onto the deck and managed to avoid the eyes of the returning crew. Reaching his room, he quickly ducked in and closed the door behind him, causing maps and papers to fly in all different directions. 

Shanks walked with you in his arm over to his bed and laid you down as gently as he could. “Y/N, you need to listen to me,” he slipped his hand through your hair and gripped the back of your neck to force you to look at him. You looked up at him dazed, trying your best to concentrate on what he was telling you rather than the feeling of his hand on your neck. “You’re not dying. Those spores were an aphrodisiac,” He looked at you hard, making sure you understood what he was saying, “That’s why you’re feeling like this.” 

You groaned and tried to hide your face out of embarrassment, but Shanks held you firm. “I’m going to get Hongo, he might be able to find some sort of sedative to help you work through this. You might have a shitty night, but I promise you’re going to be alright. I’ll be right back, ok?” He said softly.

Shanks lightly rubbed the back of your neck with his thumb before turning to leave, but you sat up and clutched his shirt to pull him back, “No! Please don’t. Don’t get Hongo.” You buried your head in his shirt, “I don’t want anyone seeing me… like this.”

Shanks’ gaze softened, “Y/N, Hongo is a professional, he’ll definitely be able to help.” 

“No...I don’t…I can’t have anyone see me like this, please Captain. I-” your voice cracked, “I worked too hard to gain respect on this ship. Please. Don’t let anyone see me like this.”

Shanks began to disagree, “Hongo really would know the best way to deal with this, Y/N…” he stopped upon seeing the panic in your eyes. He sighed as he relented, “But, I’ll keep this between us for now. If that’s what you really want.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, though it was short lived. The aching between your legs was demanding attention, and you didn’t know how much longer you could restrain yourself from tending to it. 

“Y/N.” You looked back up at Shanks, “If you really intend to deal with this on your own, the only way I know you can find relief is to stimulate yourself or… have sex.” Shanks kept your gaze as he spoke. “I’ll leave you my room. At least that way you can have some privacy while you deal with this. I’ll make sure nobody comes in here. You have my word.” 

“Captain…” You found it hard to look him in the eye, you knew what you were about to ask wasn’t right, “Please. Don’t leave me.”

Shanks froze, for a moment he was speechless, he waited for you to meet his gaze and searched your eyes, “Y/N, do you really understand what you're asking right now?”

“I-” You doubled back over struggling to compose yourself, gripping Shanks silk sheets. Just imagining sleeping with your captain was enough to make your arousal unbearable. Despite your best judgment you shakily reached down and palmed in-between your legs, exhaling from the slight relief it gave you. You looked back up to Shanks, eyes pleading, “I can barely manage this right now. I can't do this alone. I'm begging you, please Shanks.” 

Shanks stared at you, mouth agape and spellbound by the proposition. He could feel his mouth watering and his pants tighten. Shanks remembered just how miserable he had been with just the small dosage he’d taken, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine the turmoil that was currently wrecking your body. He balled his fist gathering the last bit of restraint he had and whispered, “It… wouldn’t be right of me to do this. You’re not in your right mind, you’d take anyone in your condition-”

“No. You’re wrong,” you were breathing heavily, choosing your words carefully, “I couldn’t bear it being anyone else. I want it to be you… Unless,” Your breath hitched, you weren’t sure if you wanted to know the answer to the question you were about to ask, “do you not… want me?”

This was the final straw for Shanks. You had broken the great Emperor who’d tried so desperately to do the right thing. His resolve crumbled at your words and he found himself lunging toward you. He pounced over you, throwing you back onto his mattress as his lips crashed onto yours. Your senses exploded with electricity by his contact and you moaned into his mouth, eagerly accepting more. It was utterly overwhelming and you couldn't control the noises that escaped from your mouth as Shanks pushed your hand away to tend to your clit himself, shoving his hand down your pants.

Shanks briefly separated your lips and breathed heavily trailing kisses along your cheek and to your forehead, “I’ll ask you… one more time,” he muttered between pecks, “Are you sure about this?” He pulled back to meet your eyes. 

“Old man,” you huffed at him, “Won’t you shut up and put your mouth to good use for onc-” 

Shanks didn’t let you finish your sentence and forced your mouth wider to deepen your kiss as he worked to slip your pants off. Once they were off you spread your legs obediently for him, pushing your hips against his hand for more friction. With your pants out of the way, Shanks had more freedom to explore your folds. His thumb kept a steady rhythm on your bud as his other fingers dove lower. He smiled as he found how soaked you were for him. He gathered copious amounts of slick from your pussy, and used it to tease you further. Shanks moved his mouth down your neck, leaving dark spots where he sucked and teased. 

You could already feel that you were close to climax, you squirmed and whined for more. Shanks relented to your obvious request and slipped two fingers inside you. The gratifying release was instantaneous. You gripped Shanks’ arm as he massaged your walls through your orgasm. He reveled at just how seductive your body was and how your pussy gripped his fingers tightly. 

Shanks lifted his head out from the crook of your neck and glanced over to you, but you were worlds away. His whole body reacted when he finally saw you in shambles from his touch. Tears streamed down your reddened face, unable to concentrate on anything besides how good you felt, you just focused on trying to catch your breath. It was all so overwhelming, Shanks’ touch, his kisses, and his scent all around you. 

Shanks’ breath hitched as he let out a snide laugh, “Well, I guess that’s one way to shut you up, brat.” 

Shanks pulled away from you for a moment and the sudden loss of contact made you whimper. Shanks scolded you, “Quiet now, it’s not good to be impatient, Y/N.” Shanks teased as he shook off his coat and lifted his shirt above his head, discarding it onto the floor.  You watched, entranced by the way his muscles moved. His broad shoulders and massive tanned biceps patterned with scars. You felt the heat grow again as he turned back to you. 

You pouted at Shanks’ words, “It’s a little difficult being patient when you're so horny you feel like you're gonna explode!” You huffed, frowning dramatically. “Being in a hot man’s bed and watching him strip is not helping my situation.” 

You immediately regretted your words as you watched his brow rise and a wicked smile form on his face. “A “hot man,” you say. Is that what you think of me?” 

“Don’t get cocky,” you spat back, staring him down. He glared back, not backing down from your challenge. You couldn’t take it anymore. You just wanted him.  

With a mischievous smile, Shanks crawled back over to you, placing his knee strategically between your legs pushing into the wet spot of your underwear. He ground his leg as he reached his arm up to pull off your shirt, you lifted your arms to make it easier. Shanks sighed with bliss as your breasts came into view, no bra in sight. 

You gasped as Shanks’ hand groped one of your breasts and his mouth found the other. You leaned back and interlaced your fingers in Shanks' hair stroking and pulling on the red strands. You couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he devoured you. 

Shanks released his lips off of your nipple with a pop and moaned, “In all my years,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve never wished so much that I had both of my hands again.” 

You couldn't help but laugh at this statement, it was just too ridiculous. Shanks eyed you curiously, “Are you laughing at your Captain? Or, are you going to start calling me by my name like you did before?” Shanks’ mouth moved lower down your body, kissing your stomach as he trailed down, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you called me ‘Shanks’ earlier. What made you think you could drop honorifics with your Captain like that?” 

All you could do was watch him as his lips moved closer and closer to your core, you were speechless with anticipation. Shanks played with the fabric of your underwear, tracing the hem and circling lower towards your clit. You jumped from the sensation. “Though, I have to admit. I did like the sound of my name on your lips.” He continued to tease you with both his words and his movements. 

“Please, just touch me already, I can’t-”

“Call me by my name again. Then I’ll consider helping you.” Shanks was enjoying this far too much. His eyes twinkled up at you as he grazed your hip bone with his fingertips. 

You gave in immediately, your pride nowhere to be found, “Shanks. Please make me feel good. I’m begging, Shanks.” 

“That’s more like it.” Shanks shoved your underwear aside and thumbed your clit roughly. You arched your back at the sudden contact and cried out in pleasure. Shanks was completely enthralled with what was happening in front of him, he couldn't take his eyes away from your glistening pussy, soaking wet, all for him. He wanted more and demanded, “Lift your hips.” 

You immediately obeyed your captain and raised your hips. Shanks grabbed your underwear and ripped them off you. You leaned back with anticipation, but nothing came. You peered up at the red-haired man and you realized he was examining your panties. “Oh. Sorry, I know that old pair isn’t exactly sexy…” You explained self-consciously. Then suddenly, as if he was possessed, he shoved your soaked underwear into his face and inhaled deeply. Your mouth fell open at the sight. At last, when he lowered your panties from his face he stared at you intensely, his eyes drunk and lazy from your scent. 

You watched mesmerized by the man in front of you as he tossed your underwear aside, gripped the back of your thigh with his arm, and shoved it back towards your head. Before you could react to the sudden change of position, Shanks plunged his tongue between your folds and lapped up your juices. You gripped his hair as he indulged in your aroused pussy. Shanks moaned into you as you tightened your grasp and pulled his hair slightly. He felt his hard-on twitch painfully, desperate and leaking with pre-cum. It didn’t take long before you were rutting into his face, chasing another high and coming undone for a third time by your captain. 

As your spasms ceased, Shanks sat back up between your legs. You were mortified to see his face covered in your arousal. You sat up and began to apologize, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry let me just-” You raise your hand to wipe away the creamy slick from his face, only to have it shoved away and to be brought into another hungry kiss. The juices from Shanks’ mouth mixed in with your saliva as your tongues intertwined. 

You were at Shanks’ disposal, at his mercy. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone. It wasn’t enough, not yet. You needed more. Reaching down, you pressed down on the protruding tent that was rising in Shanks’ pants. Shanks pulled away from you slightly and hissed at the contact. You continued to palm at his growing member and whispered, “I want this, Shanks. I want to make you feel good too.” 

Shanks laughed weakly, “Well… if you ask me like that, who am I to say no?” He moved back to sit on his knees and fumbled with his belt and pants. You couldn’t help but smile at how he shakily tripped over his buckle with only one hand. You reached up and helped him by pulling his pants down. Although you knew from feeling him earlier, you were still taken aback by the sheer size of his cock as it nearly smacked you in the face. 

You eagerly eyed his cock and looked up at Shanks hovering above you, “Can I…” you begin as you reach up to take him in your grip, “suck it?” 

Shanks couldn’t help but let out a gasp as you came into contact with his dick. “If- that’s what you want. But only a little. I’m not confident that I’ll last long if yo-” Shanks was cut off by your tongue trailing up the side of his cock. A shiver ran up his spine, and he gripped your hair with his hand to hold on for dear life. You wanted to taste every part of him, you couldn’t hold back. 

You weren’t particularly experienced, but somehow you knew exactly what to do for him. You teased his rosy tip with your tongue, licking circles before wrapping your lips around it. You savored the salty taste and traced your tongue along the veins running down him. There was no way you could take him in his entirety, but you pushed as far as your throat could allow. You only got a few pumps in before Shanks stopped you. “Alright. That’s enough.” He sat back down on his rear and motioned for you to come to him, “This isn’t about me.” Which was true, but he knew his words were just an excuse. He easily could have come from just your tongue if he wasn’t careful. 

You got up on your knees as Shanks requested, and straddled him. His dick sat hard in between the two of you as he pulled you in for another breathtaking kiss while he used his free hand to continue to stretch you out. Finally satisfied with his prep, he broke the kiss and lifted your ass to hover over him. Shanks looked up at you and purred, “I’ll leave this part to you.” He wrapped his large hand around yours and guided it to his throbbing cock, “I don’t want to hurt you. So you need to go at your own pace.” 

You hesitated slightly at his command, insecure about your skills. But whatever shyness you felt about taking the lead was quickly dismissed by your overflowing arousal. With one hand on Shanks’ shoulder to steady yourself and the other seizing his member, you raised your hips to accommodate his height. You rubbed the head of his cock on your dripping pussy and you both hissed from the contact. Once Shanks was properly lubed by your fluids, you held your breath and slowly lowered your hips onto the tip of his cock. The head alone stretched your inner walls with an intensely painful pleasure. You felt overwhelmed by his size and the electric current that emanated from its pressure. You intended to take him slowly and acclimate to his size, but your instincts took control. You wanted to feel full. You wanted to be completely consumed by him. You hastily realigned yourself, took a breath, and slammed your hips down, instantly taking him down to his base. 

Neither of you could keep your voices contained. You let out a moan laced with the pain and pleasure of finally receiving Shanks in his entirety. The feeling was devastating. You gripped Shanks’ head pulling him to your chest as you entangled your fingers in his hair. Shanks cursed as he willed himself to stay in control, the pressure and sensation of your grip was mind-shattering. He wrapped his arm around your waist, gripping your skin to ground himself. 

You didn't give him time to recover. You raised your hips again and slammed down hard against him, receiving a grunt from him. You felt drunk, unable to control your actions, you found yourself rocking into him at an uncontrollable pace. The pain was fading away and was replaced by unbelievable pleasure. You needed more, you needed him everywhere. 

Shanks took advantage of your position above him, trailing kisses along your chest and leaving occasional bruise and bite mark. He used his tongue to tease and suck on your hard nipples. His hand wandered along the length of your back, grazing your spine with his fingertips leaving you gasping. Even the slightest touch on your body created an unbearable reaction, flooding your senses with bliss. 

Shanks’ hand continued to explore your body, ticking the nape of your neck, pinching your nipples, and finally falling between your legs. He flicked and rubbed your clit as you rode him at an alarming pace. You felt yourself nearing another climax as the coil in your core began to tighten. You chased the high as you ground against him, willing yourself to continue despite feeling like you were on the brink of collapse. 

Your climax hit you like a train, bringing earth-shattering pleasure throughout your body. You fell forward, pushing Shanks onto his back as the feeling overtook you, unable to continue. But Shanks wouldn't let you rest and you couldn’t contain your voice as Shanks cruelly thrusted up into you, compelling your senses to disintegrate as he fucked you through your peak.

Your ears deafened and rang as you laid exhausted against Shanks’ wide chest, still twitching on his dick. Shanks slowed his pace and you sat on him for a moment as you tried to catch your breath. You felt lighter than when you’d first entered Shanks’ room and your head was clearer, but the burning desire still lay unsatisfied. You tried to sit up to keep riding until your body was appeased, but found yourself collapsing again. Your legs were wobbly, unable to continue. “Shanks,” you whispered, “I think you’re going to have to take over from here. Please.” 

Shanks was still reeling from your ruthless pace on his dick. He looked up at you, astonished that you still had the energy to keep going. “So demanding. You’re making me forget I’m the captain here.” Shanks sat up and reversed your positions, laying you flat on your back as he hovered over you, “But, I guess I’ll follow your command this time, Captain.” 

Shanks pushed your legs back again and took a moment to examine your swollen pink pussy. It dripped and pulsed in anticipation, making it obvious that the mushroom was still wreaking havoc on your nerves. Shanks knew you wouldn't be able to keep this up much longer and decided to bring this to an end as soon as possible. He positioned himself above you and gripped his cock. Pushing it on you, he teased your clit with his tip for a moment before moving lower and watching in awe as you swallowed his thick cock to the brim of his balls. 

You gripped the sheets around you tightly, this felt even deeper than before, he was reaching far down inside and rubbing all your sensitive spots. He sat there a moment breathing deep with his eyes closed, feeling the deepest corners of your pussy squeeze and warm him. He was only brought back to reality when you squirmed and whimpered underneath him. You needed more friction, more movement, more anything. Your body was not going to be as patient as Shanks was wanting. 

Shanks opened his eyes and smirked down at you, “Don’t worry,” he gripped your thigh tightly with his hand leaving it stinging, “I’ll give you what you want.” 

Without warning he lifted his hips, leaving his tip barely inside you, and plowed himself into you as deep and as hard as he could. You choked on your own breath as he pulled out and hammered down into you again, and again. He set an abusive pace, each stroke hitting your deepest nerves and causing waves of spine-tingling pleasure.

Your heightened senses multiplied every feeling, every touch, and every kiss. You felt as if your body was going to disintegrate underneath Shanks. The sensation in your body was unfamiliar and frightening and it was becoming too much. You put your hands on Shanks’ chest in a half-hearted attempt to slow him down, but his merciless tempo continued to wreck your body. Twitching from pleasure, you attempted again to turn your body to run from the feeling. It was all too intense, it was too good and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

Before you could move away Shanks forced you back into position and entangled his hand with yours. His thrusts persisted as he leaned down his head next to yours and whispered gruffly into your ear, his slurring voice tickling your neck, “This is what you wanted, right? What you needed? Take it for me. Be a good girl for me.” 

You were nearly comatose from the pleasure racking your body. Just from his words, you reached another climax, and Shanks fucked you through it once again. Your eyesight became hazy and you knew you needed to ground yourself. Out of desperation, one of your hands reached out to claw his back and the other clenched his hair. You opened your mouth and bit down hard on Shanks’ shoulder. Shanks hissed harshly as your teeth pierced his shoulder, yet he found himself smiling. Your disobedience had always been a turn-on for him. Excited from the pain, he moaned into your ear, “I’m- close. So close.” 

“Come in me.” You cried out. You knew you sounded desperate, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted him to ruin you, “Please come in me, Shanks. Please… Please… Please,” tears ran down your cheeks and you lost all sense of self. All you knew was that you wanted Shanks, every last bit of him.  

It took all of Shanks’ willpower not to fulfill your request. 

Every last instinct in Shanks’ body willed him to release inside you, to truly make you his. But his reasoning prevailed. He knew that despite everything he could not do that to you in this state. So, with a few final harsh thrusts, Shanks pulled his cock out and released his warm come across your stomach. 

Shanks collapsed next to you, panting. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this. Everything around him felt fuzzy as he came down from his orgasmic high. Once he finally caught his breath again, he turned over and reached for you. 

You had passed out. 

 …

You woke with a jolt of pain as you turned over on your side in your sleep. Groaning, you shifted your body to try and stretch out your achy muscles. However, you realized that you couldn’t move. There was a weight laying across your abdomen… and your leg… and there was something pressed up against your back…

Your eyes snapped open. 

You weren’t in your room, that was obvious. But where were you? You turned slightly to lay on your back, and looking down you saw an arm strewn across your stomach. Horrified, your eyes trailed up to see whose arm it was. It took everything in you not to scream as you realized you were entangled in your captain's sleepy limbs. 

Your mind raced, desperate to remember what happened. You were exploring the island, Shanks came with you, you went into the cave and… 

It all came flooding back. 

You lay there in shock. 

What was going to happen now? What if someone saw you? Would you have to leave the ship? 

Your eyes wandered to where he lay, breathing deep in his slumber. He was shirtless and you couldn’t help but stare. Looking down you realized you weren’t wearing your own clothes, but rather an oversized off-white button-down shirt. It was obvious that Shanks lent you his own shirt. What a gentleman, you thought sarcastically as your body ached. But, you couldn’t help yourself, you turned your body to face him for a better look at the man before you, admiring his strong features. 

As you savored the view in front of you, Shanks willed his body to sit as still as possible. He had woken up nearly an hour before you had and had spent the time watching you sleep, stroking your hair, and indulging in the feeling of sleeping next to you. He panicked when you shifted in your sleep and decided to pretend to be asleep. To his surprise, you hadn’t gotten up to leave, and he could feel your warm gaze on his face. He savored this morning, never wanting it to end. 

The peaceful moment was ruined in an instant. 

Shanks’ bedroom door flew open with a loud crash as none other than Benn Beckman strode in. You and Shanks’ eyes flew open and met each other in horror before turning your attention to the trespasser. Beckman didn’t get more than three steps into his Captain’s room when he realized what he stumbled in on. 

There was a moment of silence, all three of you stared at each other, taking in the information in front of you. 

Finally, you came to your senses and flung the sheets over yourself to hide from the embarrassment. You felt Shanks’ hand lay protectively on your back as you hid, “Beckman,” He spoke sharply, “you’d better have a good reason for barging into my room.” 

Beckman gulped, “Definitely not a good enough reason for this.” 

“Right. Beckman?” 

“Yes?” 

“Leave. Now.” 

“Right. Don’t have to tell me twice.” Beckman turned to the door and stepped out of the room. You peeked out of the blankets and saw Beckman pause before closing the door behind him. He looked back at you and Shanks sternly, “I hope you two know what you’re doing.” 

And with that, he closed the door. 

You peeled back the covers and emerged next to Shanks. The two of you sat in silence for a minute, both pondering Beckman’s statement. He had a good point. What were you going to do now? Mushroom or not, the two of you crossed the boundary between captain and crewmate. Would you both ignore it and pretend nothing happened? 

Your mind was spinning down all the possibilities that were laid out in front of you. Shanks thought your ears would start smoking soon, and he spoke first. Laying you back down on his arm he spoke two simple sentences that made you relax and settle down to sleep.

“Let’s worry about this tomorrow. I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊 authors note: HUGE shout out to @nanpecan for editing this and helping me not sound illiterate

[writerpeach]

Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

---

Read on AO3

Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one." 

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could." 

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.” 

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state. 

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp. 

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask. 

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends." 

"Don't think I have." 

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina." 

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that. 

“I’m serious!” 

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly. 

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.” 

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else." 

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.  

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—" 

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin. 

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close. 

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina. 

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting." 

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now. 

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it. 

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word. 

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about." 

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.” 

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now. 

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?" 

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go. 

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie." 

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain. 

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go. 

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity. 

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire. 

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal. 

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste. 

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?" 

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you. 

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh. 

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.” 

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?” 

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with. 

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets. 

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin. 

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here. 

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once." 

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head. 

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist. 

Now it all comes together. 

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most. 

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that. 

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up. 

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes. 

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all. 

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants. 

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight. 

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her. 

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make. 

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind. 

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“ 

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned. 

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture. 

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around. 

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp. 

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat. 

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging. 

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat. 

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory. 

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it. 

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits." 

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body. 

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage. 

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off. 

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to." 

That's all it takes. 

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking. 

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have. 

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made. 

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now. 

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be. 

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words. 

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store. 

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—" 

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen. 

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words  tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it? 

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy. 

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum." 

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.” 

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over. 

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in. 

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you. 

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms. 

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention. 

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger. 

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you. 

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like. 

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay. 

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high. 

A question like that only has one answer. 

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second. 

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again. 

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?" 

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers. 

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position. 

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“ 

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs. 

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open. 

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks. 

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy. 

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame. 

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it. 

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you. 

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere. 

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on. 

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?" 

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her. 

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame. 

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie." 

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?" 

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have." 

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment. 

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.” 

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time." 

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that. 

[katsukistofu]

hug me, not it!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. todoroki x gn reader ⭑ your boyfriend has hidden beef with your plushies.

shoto beadily eyes the intruding beasts behind you with distaste subtly written over his pretty features.

the “intruding beasts” being your plushies neatly lined up against the wall of your dorm.

did he buy most of them for you with his father’s credit card whenever the two of you went on dates? yes.

does that mean he was any happier to see them in his presence? no.

they already get the privilege to sleep with you every night. how dare they gatecrash on the both of your precious private time like this? uninvited too?

it’s silly, he knows, but he always gets the tiniest bit jealous when he comes to your room for study sessions or sleepovers, even movie nights.

only to see you cuddling with that damn rilakkuma bear plush he gave you last year to celebrate your anniversary in your lap. for the millionth time. in his spot.

shoto can’t help but feel a little replaced.

he throws one last glance over your shoulder at the offending sacks of fluff, before his soft strawberries and créme hair brushes your chin as he nuzzles deeper into the crook of your neck.

“sho!” you giggle. “that tickles.”

you feel a faint smile against your collarbone. just the slightest bit mischievous enough for you to be able to tell, as he lets out that quiet, melodic laugh of his. “sorry.”

he’s not really, though. shoto peeks back over at your plushies, the barest hint of smugness visible on his lips.

mine. shoto thinks while looking at them, arms circling your waist.

unaware of the one-sided competition for your affections behind you, you’re deadset on a mission for revenge.

gently, you brush the tips of your fingers along his neck.

shoto’s ridiculously handsome as he leans into your touch with a curious tilt of his head.

“what are you doing?”

his bangs fall into his eyes as he questions you, and you feel your heart skip a beat, wondering how he’s even real.

“trying to tickle you back!” you desperately attempt to do so again under his arms and on his thigh.

other than a blink from him, still no reaction.

“love.”

you don’t seem to hear him.

“shoto, lie on your tummy.”

he complies easily, always one to humor your bouts of inquisitiveness. whenever you were focused on something, you tended to tune everything else out.

shoto stretches out on your bed with his tall frame not unlike a cat. but his head is still turned back to you, staring at you to try and to get your attention.

“love.” you’re trying to tickle the back of his knee now, to no avail.

finally, you raise your head to look at him. “yeah?”

“i’m not ticklish.” shoto deadpans.

“what, really?” you whine, stopping your attack on his leg. “not even as a baby?”

“no.” amusement dances in his gemstone eyes as he studies you. “touya always got mad when he tried to, because it never worked.”

you stifle a giggle behind your hand. “what did you do to make him tickle you in the first place?”

“exist,” your boyfriend says so simply that you have to let out a laugh.

you reach out to cup the side of his cheek, and there’s a soft intake of breath from him as his lashes flutter shut.

shoto wonders how your gentle touch always makes him feel warm all over, when he’s certain he’s not even using his quirk.

it’s strange. in good way.

“why do you like cuddling those plushies so much?” he murmurs, eyes still closed.

a flustered expression that he can’t see spreads across your face.

“um, i guess it’s ’cause they smell like you and at night it helps me sleep?”

“oh.” his eyes blink open in surprise at that, warmth starting to grow on his cheeks.

shoto takes in the sheepish grin you’re wearing, and reaches out to cup your burning cheek similarly like how you did with his moments before.

you shiver into his sweet and soft touch, and the side of his lips quirk up.

“you can cuddle them. but when i’m here, the only one that should be in your arms is me.”

[chososlilprincess]

pt. 2 of Virgin Choso!! if you havent read the first part read it here and part 3

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Virgin Choso who looks at your abandoned bag in the corner of his small living room. Standing in the little apartment he moved into recently, chewing on his lip anxiously. Should he text you? you’d realize it was gone eventually, and when you give him a call to tell him, he could pretend he hadn’t seen it. It’s not because he doesn’t want to talk to you, the opposite really, but hes scared. He’d probably be weird and act awkward if you two were ever alone, if you came to retrieve your bag from his home.

You and Yuji had been at his apartment earlier that day to help him move his furniture around. He’d heard the doorbell ring and when you had finally ascended to the top floor were he resided, Yuji had given him a brotherly hug, patting his back. And you,

You.

it’s the second time he sees you after he realised what he felt for you, and it’s getting increasingly hard to be around you. Especially when you keep putting on those adorable little outfits. He can’t focus, he can hardly breathe. Yuji, that idiot, knows that fact better than even Choso himself, seeing right through his brother. Which is why the boy had invited you today to help him. To torture Choso, to make him crack.

But Choso wasn’t weak. He could hold his composure. Even when Yuji walks past him and whispers, trying to hold his laugh, “maybe cut back on the staring a little today, she might actually notice this time,”

And now he’s here, all his furniture in the right places, but your bag in the wrong. You’d went to the gym he remembers, which is why you had it with you.

When his phone rings a minute later, his heart starts beating faster, already? he calms down a little when he sees it’s Yuji who’s calling, but his ease is cut short when he answers.

“hello?”

“hi Choso, it’s me,” its you. He can hear people talking and laughing in the background, probably you and Yuji’s new friends from your Jujutsu College. “my phone went out so i borrowed Yuji’s to call you,” you say sweetly, and before you can continue, a voice way louder than yours comes through the line, “she forgot her bag on purpose!!” Yuji shouts from next to you, before someone in the group can shut him up,

“not true…” you say awkwardly and laugh “but uh, is it okay if i come and get it tomorrow after my shift? it’s gonna be a little late though, sorry for the trouble,” he can feel that tugging in his heart, he’s excited to see you again, even if it’s only because of your forgetfulness. “it uh…it is no trouble,” he says quickly,

“thank you Choso…ill see you tomorrow,” and with that you hang up, and Choso is left with the silence of his apartment and the bustle outside of tokyo city.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

He’s sitting on the couch with your bag propped up next to him, did you really leave your bag here on purpose? why would you have done that? did you want to see him too? he sighs, wishful thinking.

He stands up from the couch and the movement makes your unzipped bag fall to the floor with a thud.

He looks to the floor, bends down to put the bag back when-

oh. fuck.

Laying on the ground is your used gym clothes, a big hoodie, some shorts, a top and also…

a pair of your used panties.

he freezes, his dick jumping at the sight alone. Theyre baby blue, with a little white bow on the waistband. fuck. no. don’t.

he picks them up.

He’s only just learned about sex, about relationships and about…pleasuring himself. And he’s already a massive pervert.

what would you think of him if you knew? if you could see him right now? desperately jerking himself off on the couch, whines and groans spilling from his lips, drool sliding down his mouth. your perfect little panties wrapped around his hard cock.

He watches as his pre cum makes a mess in them. he wants to make a mess with you. He wants to see you wearing nothing else than those same panties around him,

he takes them away from his dick and brings them to his nose. And when he breathes in the scent of your pussy, He cums so hard his mind turns blank.

And it hits him when he comes down, that hes disgusting. And your panties are ruined.

how can you make him feel like this. Without any cursed energy. without beating him into the ground. youre just existing, And that fact alone makes him feel so…weak? why does he feel weak?

He decides then that he needs to tell you, Its been building up in his chest for months. He needs to tell you that hes in love with you and that he would do anything for you.

he needs to tell you he wants to bury his face in your little cunt.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

thx to everyone whos been leaving notes<33 part 3 coming!!

[rafecameronssl4t]

can u do kinda inspired by new season where Rafe finds out what Sofia did and confronts her and calls her saying get out of his house but it’s bitchy!kook!bsf!reader x Rafe where they’re kinda more than friends and she tells Rafe a lie about Sofia and he believes her and gets super mad at Sofia

Passenger Princess || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: love this idea tysm!!

Warnings: r is manipulative, slight angst

Word count: 1,583

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

“Wanna come over?” you ask, your voice casual but your eyes lingering on Rafe’s profile, gauging his reaction. He turns his head to you briefly, pausing as the car idles at a red light. Without missing a beat, he reaches over, taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours, rubbing his thumb gently across your skin in a way that makes your heart flutter.

But tonight, his words hit you before the warmth of his touch does. “I can’t. Sofia wants to go out later,” he says, his gaze flickering back to the road, oblivious to how your expression shifts instantly. The mention of her name is like a slap, and your expression falters instantly. You let out a scoff, the sound sharp and almost bitter.

Without thinking, you pull your hand out of his grasp and cross your arms over your chest, turning your gaze out the window. The hurt and jealousy you’ve been pushing down surge to the surface, making your chest tighten.“She’s still living with you?” The words leave your mouth more accusatory than you intend, but it doesn’t matter now.

You need him to feel what you’re feeling, to understand just how much Sofia is getting under your skin. Rafe’s eyes flicker to you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he doesn’t say anything right away. He rolls his tongue against his cheek, his gaze narrowing as he presses down on the gas pedal when the light turns green. You can tell he’s frustrated, but you want him to feel more than that.

“Y/n…” he says, the soft plea in his voice making you grit your teeth. He’s clearly trying to de-escalate the situation, but you’re not having it. His voice falters slightly when he says your name again, as if he’s unsure of how to handle you when you get like this. You don’t respond, eyes fixed on the road, even though you don’t see anything.

Your mind is consumed by the thought of Sofia still lingering in his life. “I don’t understand why you’re still with her!” you snap, turning to face him, your voice sharp with frustration. Your heart races, and you know exactly where this is going. You’ve been waiting for the right moment to make your move. Then, with a practiced vulnerability, you let your eyes soften, allowing tears to well up.

You turn your head slightly toward him, making sure he sees the hurt in your eyes. You know the exact tone to use, the one that cracks just enough for Rafe to feel guilty, to feel like he’s let you down. You draw in a deep, shaky breath, letting your eyes glisten with tears. With a careful tremor in your voice, you speak softly, like you’re letting out something painful. “After everything she did to me…”

Just as you anticipated, Rafe’s head snaps in your direction, confusion and concern filling his expression. His eyes dart between you and the road, brow furrowing as he tries to process your words. “What are you talking about?” You let the tears begin to fall, looking down as though ashamed, your shoulders subtly shaking as you pretend to hold back sobs.

“What did she do to you?” His eyes flickered back and forth from the road to your tear-streaked face, searching for answers. He was desperate, each glance showing his growing frustration and need to understand. “Y/n…” he said, his voice lower now, tinged with an edge of anger that made you shiver. “Tell me—what did Sofia do to you?”

His tone was a mix of urgency and something fiercer, like he was barely holding himself back. You continued to sob, letting your shoulders shake as you turned away, keeping up the act. Rafe’s jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he stared ahead, but his entire focus was on you.

~

“Hey babe, what’s up?” Sofia’s voice rings out, saccharine sweet, and it instantly makes you cringe. The way she says it, as if she’s trying to mask something, makes your skin crawl. Rafe’s eyes flicker over to you for a split second, taking in your tear-streaked cheeks, red from how much you’ve cried.

Your heart races, a cold pit settling in your stomach. You’ve made sure Rafe is in the right headspace, pushed all the right emotional buttons, and now it’s time to watch it unravel. Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he presses the phone to his ear, his expression hardening into something unreadable.

The silence that stretches between him and Sofia is palpable. You can feel the tension in the air, the unease settling like a storm cloud. “Rafe… what’s wrong?” she coos, trying to soften the tension. You can tell she’s trying to maintain control, but you know it’s slipping. But Rafe is done. He’s had enough.

“Is it true? Is it true what Y/n just told me?” he demands, his voice suddenly low, razor-sharp. The words are a punch, sharp and deliberate, leaving no room for misunderstanding. There’s a long pause, a dangerous silence on the other end. You can hear Sofia’s shallow breathing, the way she’s stalling, trying to figure out how to save herself.

It’s almost like she’s trying to put on a mask for him, pretending everything’s fine, but you both know it’s not. Sofia’s mind races, the memories of her deal with Hollis flooding in through her mind. “Is what true?” she finally asks, her voice faltering, a hint of nervousness breaking through her usual façade. “Don’t play games with me, Sofia,” Rafe’s voice is firm now, his jaw clenched.

You can feel the weight of his anger simmering just beneath the surface, ready to burst. You watch Rafe closely, your chest tight with both anxiety and satisfaction. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to finally see her for what she truly is. And now, it’s all about to come crashing down for Sofia.

On the other end of the line, Sofia’s silence is deafening. You can almost hear her panic, her inability to talk her way out of this one. Rafe’s anger is too much, too raw. And it’s all aimed at her. Rafe can’t contain it anymore. He slams his fist against the steering wheel with a deafening sound, making you jump in your seat.

The force behind it makes the entire car shake, and his anger is now fully unleashed. His knuckles are white, his body tense with fury, and for a moment, you think he might explode. You can see the muscle in his jaw working, his anger mounting as he struggles to keep his cool. The tension in the air is suffocating, and you almost feel bad for Sofia—almost.

You got him here—you’ve got him angry at her, and it’s exactly what you wanted. “Pack your shit. Get out of my house,” Rafe says through gritted teeth, the words biting and final. His voice is low, full of rage that you can feel in the pit of your stomach. Sofia’s voice cracks on the other end. “What?” Her voice wavers, like she can’t believe what’s happening.

You can practically hear her trying to regain control, but it’s too late. Rafe scoffs, his patience wearing thin. “We’re done, Sofia. Done.” he seethes, his hand slamming against the wheel again with a force that makes the whole car jerk. You jump slightly, but you can’t help the small, satisfied smirk that pulls at the corners of your lips.

“Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house,” Rafe repeats, his voice steady now, but laced with disgust. There’s no room for negotiation, no chance of a second chance. This is it. With one last frustrated breath, he ends the call, the click of the phone punctuating the finality of it all.

[neckromantics]

Can we please talk about how often vampires are seen having infatuations with the living, simply because they’re… well, living? How Astarion's vampiric nature would have him frequently mesmerized by just how alive you are??

Pt1.

(nsfw warning. oops. It's mostly fluff tho. there is kinda breathplay in this. i didn't mean to, but-)

Astarion who, smitten as he is, rests his head against your chest during one of your regular lazy morning cuddles. He’s not so covertly listening in on the pounding of your heart. Bare skin sensitive to every brush of his fingertips as he traces them up and down the softness of your side, tapping along to each solid thud as it beats away for him. You try not to squirm too much in fear of jostling him out of whatever dreamlike state he’s fallen into, but you’ve no need to worry. Your soft breathing—the subsequent rise and fall of your belly— is only lulling him further and further into that rare state of tranquility.

After a while, he’ll relocate a little further down. One pointed ear presses tight to the tender skin of your ribs as he seeks to be even closer to the sound, and this time, you can’t stop yourself from squirming. It’s his hair that does you in. The pale curls at the back of his neck are so silky soft against your flesh that it just about tickles, and the goosebumps that start to crawl their way up your arms only get worse each time he readjusts. He sounds so drowsy when he shushes your giggles, and when you insist you can’t help it, that it's his fault, he shushes you a second time. As if the sound of your laughter isn’t precious to him all on its own.

Astarion, who often finds himself with his lips to your pulse point without really knowing how he got there. You’ll be sat by the fire having idle chit-chat, and the next thing you know, he’s pulling your joined hands up toward his mouth as it’s your turn to speak. The first time it’d happened, you thought maybe he wanted a bit of a snack or something (not that he’s really ever done so without asking, first. Even though you’ve said about one thousand times that the offer is always on the table), but when you turned to glance at him, there wasn’t an ounce of hunger in those ruby eyes of his. He was listening to you as intently as always. Even nodded to encourage you when your sentence trailed off a bit in your confusion.

You’re not entirely sure he knows he’s doing it, or why he’s doing it for that matter, but you couldn’t be more wrong.

There’s a general warmth radiating from you that, despite Astarion’s best efforts in the past, he’s always been magnetized to. But here? Where his mouth stays poised? It’s a heat like nothing else. The steady pulse of blood—of life—calls out to him like a siren song, and while the hunger is there (will always be there), there is also something else. Something more, perhaps? A feeling he can’t quite put a name to. It’s a comfort, maybe. An assurance, he reasons to himself. That steady thump of life beneath his lips is proof enough that you’re still here with him.

Anyway.

Conversations continue without a hitch now-a-days, despite his voice being a little more than muffled with his lips jammed against whatever pulse point he can find. But, you don’t mind because while you can’t see him smiling, you sure can feel it.

Astarion, who gets struck with such a strange, desperate need to feel your breath that he has to lift his hand to your lips as he sinks deep into your warmth. Mouth half-open from your previous slack-jawed whining, not even a moment passes before you’re pressing sloppy, wet kisses to the cool skin he’s offered up to you, lids heavy with lust as you try and fail to keep your eyes focused on your lover. It still baffles him how you never miss a beat—not with him, anyway—not even when he’s got the entire bottom half of your face cupped beneath a firm hand.

His own mouth can't stop exploring every inch of flesh it can reach. He says your name but it sounds more like a thank you, fangs pricking against the inside of the arm you've got wrapped around his neck as your heels dig into the meat of his ass to nudge him forward still. Your fingers curl into his hair, getting a good handful that you'd never dare to pull. It's a gentle guiding that drives him mad—the way you herd him ever closer with such a tender touch—as if he isn't pinning you into the mattress with the majority of his weight already.

While his breaths are unneeded, they quickly match pace with the ones you’re puffing against his hand. Hitching into a gasp that he can’t think to contain when your moaning sends vibrations all the way up to his elbow. Your quick gulps of air stutter beneath him as the two of you get your bearings, and your next exhale is so sharp as his hips jerk against yours that it practically whistles out between the spaces of his fingers.

Astarion doesn't think he's ever heard anything more perfect in all his undeath.

(Me quietly to myself: what kind of kink is this.)

[s0dium]

Needing you

Gojo x F!Reader

Synopsis: Gojo comes home after a near death battle, bloody, sweaty and needing you.

Warnings: Sweaty frantic sex, unprotected sex, mentions of blood, no prep, mentions of SPOILERS

~

Gojo cant keep his hands off of you the moment he appears in front of your door.

He's sweaty, there's blood splattered on his face and clothes; god knows if its his or not. His breathing is ragged, deep, and the moment you make eye contact with him, the moment you see the vulnerability in his blue pupils and wide eyes, you dont even have to ask him what transpired. You already have a pretty good idea.

He's on you the second the door shuts behind him , lips crashing down on yours, teeth occasionally clashing and spit smearing on either side of your lips. Its messy, there is no coordination, no rythm, just Gojo trying to taste as much of you as he can. But that wasn't enough to satisfy him, he needed to feel you, touch you, press his bare skin upon yours and feel that he is alive, present, here with you. 

He tears off what ever filmsy tank top and shorts you are wearing and wastes no time shrugging off his blue uniform top. Your not even paying attention to it all; too engrossed in the kiss that has turn you into a whining a mewling mess. When your head hits the pillow you take the opportunity to wrap your legs around Gojo's waist and bring his crotch down to your cunt so he can grind his bulge against the wet spot on your thin white panties. But of course that isnt enough either, he needs to feel you, be inside you. With a grunt Gojo pulls off your underwear and lowers his boxers, just enough so his dick springs out hitting his abdomen. 

You let out a whine when you feel his leaking red tip hit your clit in an hurried attempt to align himself with you. 

“Shhh shh baby” he coos, gritting his teeth when he slips into your warm cunny.

Your thighs tremble as Gojo slams into you even and over again. His lips come into contact with what ever skin it can; leaving feather light ones on your neck and deep purple marks on your boobs and chest. 

Now your both sweaty, desperately clinging onto each other, trying to breath in the scent of his white hair, kiss, memorize every nook and cranny because god knows if Gojo doesn’t come back one day. 

You jolt with sensitivity every time the tip of his dick brushes against cervix: hitting the sweet spot inside you that made your stomach blossom with heat. Even though you’ve taken him so many times before, the stretch of his dick always makes it feel like your first. 

You can feel your self being hurtled closer and closer to an orgasm that you couldn’t put a stop too. Suddenly, in a great display of strength, Gojo manhandles you so your straddling him; the new position making his cock press against your sweet spot perfectly. 

Gojo breathing on your neck falters a bit when you press your chest and stomach flush against his.

“What are you doing, baby?”  He mumbles 

“Just....wanna be close...” you practically whisper as you start a slow grind of your hips; intending to truly savor in the pleasure. 

Your both a moaning mess, it was truly a show of primal affection; skin sticking and unsticking to each other as your bounced up and down his dick, lips attaching to each other in a wet mess and breathing ragged, fast and sometimes slow.

Suddenly, it hits you. Your stomach dips and muscles tighten. Its like bolts of electricity are being ignited through your body all at once in an frightful crescendo. Theres no time to even warn Gojo as your mouth falls open and tongue lolls out.

Oh fuck!" He gasps as your cunt clamps around him. He groans something unintelligible as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy, stopping as he bucks up into your one last time, shooting his hot load into your warm cunt

You collapse into Gojo's chest, not caring for the white liquid pouring out of you. Simply pressing your ear against his skin and listening to his heart beat, one last reminder before you dozed off that he was here, alive, breathing. 

[starryhyuck]

under his desk. (m)

pairing: ceo!johnny x afab!reader

words: 7.4k+

summary: you discover your new boss has a secret hidden up his sleeve.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: talks of violence, reader is jaehyun’s sister, rough sex, slight breeding kink, sir kink, public sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking

“I need a job.”

Jaehyun’s mouth is wide open, spoon hovering over a bowl of soup, inches away from sitting on his tongue. His eyes dart up to see your anxious expression, eyebrows pulled together. He sighs, resting his spoon back down before leaning back in his chair.

“So this is why my sister finally reaches out to have dinner with me,” Jaehyun says, running a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Come on, Jae,” you plead, fingers twisted in the napkin on your lap. A large chandelier hovers over the two of you, illuminating the disappointment gracing Jaehyun’s face. “You know I would never ask you for a favor like this unless I really have to.”

He observes the serious look on your face. It’s been years since you’ve reached out to him, the two of you losing touch after you parted ways when graduating from university. Your brother set off to a successful career in finance, climbing rank until he was nearly at the top, making an enormous amount of money that he had no clue what to do with. You were the opposite, chasing your dream of writing at a huge publishing firm, only to be met with disappointment by a few odd jobs and barely enough cash to cover the bills. You never asked Jaehyun for help even though you both knew you needed it.

He has a contemplative air cast around him, fingers rubbing at his chin lightly.

“I don’t know anyone in the writing world-“

“It doesn’t have to be that,” you immediately interject. You don’t care if he can smell the desperation across the table. “I’ve given up on that dream. I just need something stable, something I don’t have to make backup plans for if it falls through.”

He sighs again. “There is something, but it’s not easy-“

“I’ll take it, Jae. Please, I promise I won’t fuck this up.”

He stares at you for a while, taking in the hunger in your eyes. He hasn’t seen you like this since you graduated, proclaiming that you would become a best-selling writer before the year’s end. Now, you’re simply a girl crushed by the weight of your dreams and chasing a solid figure in your bank account.

“Let me see what I can do.”

—

You straighten your skirt for the umpteenth time, clutching the clipboard to your chest for dear life. The stiletto heels are digging into your feet but you keep your toes as straight as possible, trying your best to look like you know what you’re doing.

The door flies open and you take a deep breath. Johnny Suh walks by you without a word, taking his seat at his desk before finally sparing you a glance. His eyebrow raises at your appearance but he says nothing else.

“Good morning, sir,” you say with a smile. “I have your morning reports here and your daily schedule. Which would you like first?”

“My coffee.”

You pause, the smile slipping off of your face. “Y-Your coffee?”

He’s not amused in the slightest. “Black, no sugar. I expect it on my desk as soon as I walk into this room.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few beats pass. “Well?”

You stumble, racing for the door and exiting his office. You calculate there is absolutely no way you could make it to a coffee shop and be back on time, instead heading for the break room. You exhale as you place an empty cup under one of the high tech machines, waiting patiently as it brews for you.

“You’re the new assistant, aren’t you?” A voice questions. Another man walks into the room, taking a cup for himself and occupying another machine. He outstretches his hand to you. “I’m Doyoung.”

You shake his hand and smile politely, offering your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, watching as you carefully take the brewed cup of black coffee from the machine and search for a lid. “How’s the boss so far?”

You chuckle dryly. “Well, it’s my first day and I already forgot his coffee, so I can confidently say it’s not going well.”

He throws you an apologetic look. Before you can exit, he speaks again. “In my experience, Johnny favors resilience over anything. If you can show him that you’re serious about this without making a fuss, then he’ll reward you for the hard work.”

You smile thankfully. After bidding Doyoung goodbye, you make your way back into Johnny’s office, grateful to have met someone willing to help you navigate this job. Jaehyun warned you it would be difficult since Johnny was a particular man, to quote your brother, but you’ve handled much worse than a snooty CEO. You’re not one to back down this easily.

You slide the warm cup across his desk. His eyes are shifted downwards, shuffling through mountains of paperwork. He doesn’t glance up at you as he takes his first sip, lips twisting in a grimace. He turns his torso and points out the windows covering the back wall of his office.

“You’ll pick up my coffee order from that shop going forward,” he instructs. You have no idea what location he’s referring to as the view is just out of your eye line, but you make a mental note to check it later.

You nod obediently before taking your clipboard back into your hands, reciting his schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with the board of directors at ten, a one-on-one with the CFO of Kim Enterprises at eleven, lunch at twelve, and back-to-back meetings regarding the Baek acquisition after lunch,” you say, handing him the sheet from your clipboard. He takes it roughly, sighing as he glances over it. “Here are the morning reports as well. Anything particular you’re craving for today?”

He regards you carefully, and you squirm underneath his judging gaze.

“You’re Jaehyun’s sister, is that correct?”

You swallow. “Yes, sir.”

He says nothing else in relation to the topic. “A sandwich from the Kim’s shop down the street will be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

After a few weeks of trial and tribulations, you can safely say you have found your footing as Johnny Suh’s assistant.

He is particular, yes, but you can see now that it is only due to the success of the business. When sitting by his side during his meetings to take notes, you’ve noticed how fast he is to shut down any propositions that seem like a waste of time and only approve ideas that are carefully constructed and thought out. Employees appear to equally fear and respect him, which Johnny was well aware of.

You can’t quite tell if he’s pleased with your work, but he hasn’t issued any complaints since the first day you joined. You ensure a cup of warm coffee from Min’s Market is on his desk every morning and a warm sandwich from the Kim’s is delivered to him by lunch. You made an effort to reorganize the filing system his prior assistant had tried to keep up with, which made both your and Johnny’s day easier whenever you needed to access an important document. You have his work schedule texted to his phone every morning instead of using the old paper route, which you find a lot more efficient, yet unsure if Johnny expresses the same sentiment.

It’s conflicting. You feel as if you’re doing a good job but your boss makes no effort to display praise. The only thing you keep reminding yourself of is Doyoung’s comment about resilience, and how you can expect Johnny to reward you in due time.

A call of your name disrupts your typing on your computer, and you’re quick to rise on your feet as you enter Johnny’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ten just called me on my personal line. Make arrangements in my schedule for me to meet him today.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, writing down the instructions on your clipboard. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He pauses, staring at you thoughtfully. You hate it when he does this because you can never read what’s swimming in his head.

“You’re going to Jaehyun’s engagement party, I assume?”

You were ecstatic when your brother called with the news a week ago. He had known Miyeon since university and they stayed together through all the hectic chaos of Jaehyun’s career. He told you they were holding a small party at their penthouse this Sunday, and you were happy to attend in celebration.

You smile and nod. “Yes, I’ll be there, sir.”

He bobs his head once before waving his hand, dismissing you. You leave in confusion, but that was a normal emotion you felt around Johnny nowadays. You return to your desk and pull up his schedule, locating an empty slot for his meeting with Ten.

“How are you holding up, champ?”

You laugh when Doyoung approaches your desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. He’s made it a habit to check up on you every now and then. Another tidbit you learned when you began working here is that most people did not envy you for your position as Johnny’s assistant. If anything, they pitied you. Doyoung told you bets had been made around the office for when you would quit, to which you replied, “He’s not that bad.”

Doyoung chuckled and said, “Give it a few more weeks.”

Ever since then, he’s been spying on you for the rest of the employees, trying to see when your resolve would crumble.

“I’m still here, Doyoung,” you reply to his question, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “That you are. Still having a hard time reading him?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He snickers. “Well, if it lifts your spirits at all, we’re heading out for drinks this weekend to take the edge off. Come and join us.”

You normally decline such an invitation as your weekends are reserved for catching up on some much needed rest. However, now that you’ve gotten a solid grasp on Johnny’s workload, you feel like a night of alcohol is exactly what you crave to wind down.

“You know what, I’ll be there.”

His grin stretches wider, and he’s about to speak again before another voice startles you.

“Mr. Kim, what are you doing?” Johnny’s stern voice asks, standing in the doorway of his office. He scrutinizes the both of you and your shoulders tense.

Doyoung scrambles. “M-Mr. Suh! I was just speaking with-“

“I can see that,” he cuts off Doyoung. Johnny narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to interrupt my assistant’s work for mindless fodder about after-work events?”

“N-No-“

“It’s best if you return to your desk now, hm?”

Doyoung nods frantically, tail tucked between his legs as he nearly sprints out of the room. Johnny turns his attention to you, lips flattened in a straight line.

“I expect you not to waste time by flirting with other members of the work staff.”

Before you can protest, he’s walking back into his office, slamming the door behind him. You slouch in your chair, scoffing at his behavior.

What was his problem?

—

“I like this drink! Do you think they have tiny umbrellas behind the bar? It’ll make me feel like my life isn’t in shambles!”

You giggle at Joohyun, who is rambling loudly in your ear. It’s evident she’s had her fair share of drinks but she shows no signs of stopping.

You’re grateful Doyoung invited you to this outing because it feels like you can finally get to know your other co-workers without the walls of Johnny’s office blocking you. You feel light for the first time in weeks, and you’re not certain if it’s from the alcohol coursing through your veins or the absence of your ill-mannered boss. Either way, you’re reveling in it.

“Alright, truth or dare?”

You giggle, nearly spilling the shot of vodka in your hands. “Are you kidding me? How old are we?”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Doyoung says, nearly throwing his straw at you from across the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, truth!”

“Boo,” Donghyuck from the marketing department yells. You pretend to throw your drink in his face and he ducks, making the whole table erupt with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Sooyoung snickers. “Would you rather be an accomplice to a high profile murder case or fuck up Johnny’s coffee order?”

You shudder at the thought of delivering the wrong coffee to your boss, and the table is in hysterics over your expression.

“Definitely not the last one! He’ll have my head!”

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with more ridiculous dares from Donghyuck and silly questions from Sooyoung. You all part ways in the dead of the night, stumbling into taxi cabs as you wave goodbye. You elect to walk home since your apartment isn’t located too far from the bar. You shiver as the night chill nips at your arms.

You pass by another dimly lit nightclub, thrumming loudly with the sound of the bass. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want this night to end and crush the happy feeling in your chest. It’s the first time since university you haven’t had to worry about bills or how much the drinks of the night cost, and it spurs on your temporary foolish behavior. You enter the dodgy nightclub, convincing yourself that one more drink can’t hurt you.

The area is packed with people, namely older men with large builds and tattoos covering their forearms. You flag down a bartender.

“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” You yell over the sound of the music.

“Big fight downstairs,” he says, pointing to a staircase to the left of the bar. “Drinks down there are free for the ladies!”

Your eyebrows raise, and against your better judgment, your feet find themselves moving down the creaky staircase. The music dies down when you finally make it to the bottom, instead being filled with loud chatter from the bulky men around you.

“You’re insane if you think a newbie is going to come along and take out The Destroyer! He’s undefeated, you idiot!”

“All the greats have to fall sometime. Just watch and see!”

You make your way to the bar, which is a little more tattered and ruined than the one upstairs. The bartender’s eyes widen at the sight of you, which befuddles you until he asks, “Fan of The Destroyer?”

“Who?”

Three loud clanging sounds of a bell echo around the room, silencing the chatter. A man in a crisp tailored suit walks out, microphone in his hand. The crowd of people suddenly shuffle around until an empty square is left in the middle of the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man in the suit greets, the curve of his lips twisted into a smirk. “We have a great show for you tonight! For anyone looking to place their last minute bets, please locate Mr. Kim by the bar. Trust me, you won’t want to miss a fight this good!” The statement has the mass hollering while you look on in confusion. “Tonight, we have Payback in the left corner here.” The rallies grow louder as a young, lanky man comes forward, raising his fists in the air and encouraging the crowd. He stands to the left of the announcer, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly. “And in the right corner, we have the fan favorite, the undefeated, the legendary Destroyer!”

Your body locks up, breath caught in your throat while the room erupts in a deafening applause. Your hand covers your mouth in shock because the man who walks out, hands wrapped in red tape with his torso completely exposed, is none other than Johnny.

You nearly collapse into the bar from surprise, but the bartender reads your body language as something else.

“Incredible, isn’t he?” He says into your ear. “How much do you have on him tonight?”

You fail to respond, your mind whirling into a frenzy. There’s no possible way this could be Johnny — it had to be his long lost twin brother or you could be seeing it all wrong. From this angle though, it looks exactly like your boss, even as he wears nothing but a pair of baggy shorts hugging his waist. Your eyes drink in the litter of tattoos covering his chest, tattoos that are hidden in the daylight with his blazers and button-up shirts.

The announcer says a few more words that go completely over your head before ringing the bell, signaling the start of the fight.

You should go home. You should go home and pretend you never saw any of this. Staying here only implicates you, and you can’t imagine what Johnny would do to you if he found out you knew about his underground secret. You need this job, and staying here increases the chances of you losing it, so why can’t you move? Why can’t you pry your gaze away from the ripple in Johnny’s muscles as he lands the first blow, nearly knocking his opponent to the ground? Why does your throat go dry when he delivers punch after punch, eyes blazed with fury as blood begins running down the other man’s nose? Why do you stay rooted in place when the announcer declares Johnny’s victory, raising his arm high as the crowd cheers?

Then, he sees you.

His eyes lock with yours across the room, his victorious expression falling and shifting into something more grim.

That’s when you run. You sprint up the stairs and out of the bar, legs aching before you finally make it back to your apartment, shutting the front door and sliding your back down until you hit the floor.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

—

“Thank you all for joining us. This engagement is long overdue, and I’m grateful to Miyeon for sticking by my side even though I never deserved it,” your brother says, which causes Miyeon to bump his hip with hers jokingly. Guests chuckle at the small show of affection. “Please enjoy yourselves tonight and look forward to a Jeong wedding in the new year!”

Applause ensues, jilting you out of your reverie. You slowly clap with everyone else, trying your best to put on a smile.

You’ve been on edge since you walked into this party, and it’s all because of your idiotic actions from the night before. You contemplated showing up after being caught in the act at Johnny’s secret fight, but you knew it would be obvious if you missed your brother’s engagement party. Even though Johnny was here, you were determined to attend, albeit you having to avoid him like the plague.

In all fairness, you were succeeding thus far. You keep yourself on the opposite end of the room from him, never sparing a glance in his direction although you could feel his eyes on you during sporadic times in the night. Your plan is to leave at a time that wouldn’t raise any questions and go into work tomorrow and pretend you were never at the club that night. You hope Johnny would do the same.

For the sake of your job, you really really hope he would do the same.

You’re in the middle of assessing the charcuterie board, eyeing the various fancy cheeses. It’s just like Jaehyun to make this small party as extravagant as he could, knowing it would make no dent in his bank account. All the food is being carried around by various waiters walking around the floor to offer it to the guests.

“Having trouble making a choice?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You slowly spin around to see Johnny behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other holds a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a more casual manner of dress, a silk burgundy button-up paired with baggy slacks. It makes his legs look longer and you swallow as he towers over you.

“S-Sir-“

“Johnny!” You’ve never been more grateful to your brother than at this moment. He approaches the both of you with a smile, clapping a hand over Johnny’s shoulder. “How’s my little sister doing as your assistant?”

Your hands twist around your back nervously. Johnny slips into a smooth, easygoing smile.

“She’s doing fantastic. I was actually coming over to tell her just that, especially since she’s the one carrying all of my secrets to the grave.”

Your heart thumps louder in your chest while Jaehyun laughs, taking Johnny’s statement as a joke even though you know better. Johnny’s eyes analyze you carefully, the dark halo in his orbs making you quake in your heels.

“And how about you, dear sister? How’s the scary boss holding up?”

You throw your brother a tight grin. “He’s wonderful, Jae. No complaints here.”

Jaehyun nods, pleased by your progress before excusing himself to mingle. He leaves you alone with Johnny, who stares at you like a predator assessing his prey. You’re about to bring up a comment about the weather before he says, “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be lurking on the wrong side of town.”

A shiver shoots down your spine. “I-I live on that side of town.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t pay you enough then.”

You exhale, certain he can hear the loud ringing of your heartbeat in your ears. He sets his champagne glass down on a nearby table before grabbing a bite-sized quiche, holding it out to you.

“I’m okay,” you decline and he hums, placing the treat in his mouth for himself. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on how his fingers graze his tongue, licking off any spare crumbs. You think about how those same fingers were pummeling into a poor stranger the night before. How the fire in his eyes couldn’t be tamed by the outcry of his fans.

You picture the same angry Destroyer hovering over you in bed, telling you exactly what he plans to do to you while his fingers wrap around your throat.

His mouth twists into a smirk and you shake yourself out of your daydream. He flags over another man and they shake hands, laughing as they exchange greetings.

“This is my assistant,” Johnny says, turning his attention to you as he offers your name. “She has big aspirations to work for a publishing company after she gets tired of me. Maybe Ahn Books has an opening?”

Mr. Ahn shakes your hand, telling you how lovely it is to meet you, but your eyes can only focus on Johnny. He’s staring at you with a knowing look in his eye and it takes you by surprise.

Was this a bribe to keep quiet about what you saw?

“Any worker who can handle Johnny is certainly a star in my books,” Mr. Ahn chuckles. “Let me know when this one starts getting on your nerves.”

You laugh anxiously and nod. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ahn.”

Johnny gives you one last look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He doesn’t provide an opportunity for you to respond, throwing an arm around Mr. Ahn and guiding him away into the crowd.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Johnny wants to fuck his assistant.

It’s plain and simple, but it’s very much against his wishes. When Jaehyun approached him with the ask to hire his sister, he didn’t hesitate to grant his friend the favor. He had known Jaehyun since they worked at their first company together out of college, and although Johnny had never met you, he figured you would be a good worker if Jaehyun vouched for you. Plus, his last assistant had just quit from being too “overworked.” Johnny thinks they weren’t trying hard enough.

You were pretty, way too pretty to be somebody’s assistant. You deserved to be the main attraction and Johnny is ashamed to admit he’s definitely salivated over the tight pencil skirts you’re always wearing around the office.

He convinces himself to put aside his own selfish desires considering you’re one of the best assistants he’s had in years. You’re incredibly organized and after he warns you once concerning something important, you ensure not to do it again. The only big thing that irritates him is how everyone in this office is clear about their desire to fuck you but you’re wildly oblivious to all of it. Do you really think Kim Doyoung comes to talk to you because he’s friendly?

It fuels him with jealousy and he’s not normally a jealous guy. And Christ, when he saw you in the crowd of his fight, blinking at him warily like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart stopped in his chest. He never intended on letting anyone know of his after-work activity, considering it was inappropriate for a man of his status to be engaged in such a violent act.

When Johnny first got into underground fighting, he had simply been a watcher. He was introduced to the scene by an old colleague and it intrigued him to observe random strangers beat the living shit out of each other for pure sport. He had practiced boxing growing up and the idea of finally discovering a place where he could put those skills to use drew him in. Most of the time, it gave him a spike of adrenaline when he won a match. It normally never gave him gratification to send his opponent home covered in blood, but he kept going because of the reputation he was building for himself.

And seeing you there, watching him win another match and once again being declared undefeated, it makes him feel... proud. Almost like he craves to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he’s the kind of man that can take care of you.

He’s crossing a clear boundary line but his impulse to have you is overtaking the coherent part of his brain.

So when you walk in on Monday morning and squeak out a “Good morning, sir,” he swallows the need to bend you over his desk.

He greets you with a gruff “Good morning,” which has your eyebrows raising at the response. He normally ignores your attempts at chitchat, especially when it’s this early.

“I texted your schedule to you for today and I have your morning reports here,” you say as you slide over a stack of papers to him. “Can I get you anything else?”

You. Under the desk. On the desk. In the chair. Against the window.

“No, that will be all.”

You move to exit the room, pausing when your hand rests on the handle of the door.

“I-I just want you to know I haven’t told anyone about what I saw this weekend,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies frankly.

It’s true — he thought about it after leaving the nightclub on Saturday, and he wouldn’t be opposed if you went and told the rest of the work staff. Some sick part of him would actually be smug at the idea of you bragging about his wins to the other employees who so clearly want a taste of you.

“Oh,” you say, slightly startled. “Well, I still won’t tell. It’s your private business, after all. I shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder, desperate to learn what you think of him. “Did you hear what they were saying? How they were betting on The Destroyer?”

You squirm in your spot. “They said you were undefeated, that the newbie didn’t stand a chance.”

He wonders if you’re scared of him, frightened not only by his savage blows but his evident power over you. You must think that he intends to blackmail you to keep his secret, but he could care less what you choose to do.

All he wants is for you to feel the same way he does. He wants you to battle this warmth in your chest, to panic as your mind goes blank when you see him. And he can’t have any of that while you’re his assistant, working under him despite how much he would prefer you directly underneath him.

It’s why he introduced you to Mr. Ahn, an old family friend who owned one of the largest publishing companies in the country. Jaehyun mentioned to Johnny that your real passion was in writing, but the lack of funds drove you to your current spot. Johnny hates that your dreams were crushed because of something as trivial as money, which he carried an abundance of. He would fund your first book in a heartbeat if you asked, but he knows you well enough to understand your pride would never allow you to be indebted to him. He figures a job with Mr. Ahn would be more digestible for you, and it would provide him an opening to make his move.

“Do you ever get worried?” You ask him, chewing on your lower lip. “You could get seriously hurt fighting like that.”

An ache blooms in his chest. Do you care about him getting injured?

“I haven’t been hurt since I started fighting,” he shares with you. “I don’t give them a chance to get their hands anywhere near me.”

You swallow and he wrings his hands together under his desk. Does that turn you on? His office walls aren’t soundproof, but he could lock the door and throw a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. His cock twitches in his trousers at the thought.

His fantasy shatters when you finally crack open the door.

“I’ll order a sandwich from the Kim’s for your lunch today, sir.”

“Why don’t you make it two and join me?”

You stutter. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Join me for lunch. I could use another pair of eyes on these awful spreadsheets.”

“O-Okay.”

—

Johnny is playing with fire.

He’s very aware of this, yet he can’t seem to stop himself. You’ve eaten lunch together everyday for the past two weeks, munching quietly in his office while he divulges his reasoning to you behind budget cuts and expansion decisions. In the beginning, you would nod and listen patiently. After his encouragement to speak up and voice your opinion, you slowly started coming out of your shell around him.

And he’s very well informed of what the office thinks about your private time together. Last week, he overhears Doyoung mumble to you, “You and the boss are getting close.”

A grin stretches from ear to ear on his face when he listens to your response.

“Oh, I guess we have. He’s been really sweet with me.”

An envious scoff from Doyoung is enough to make Johnny’s entire day.

Late that Friday, you both stay overtime in order to complete the documents required for the Baek acquisition that Johnny has to present to the board of directors on Monday. He insists that you finish your tasks in his office to be more efficient, although the real reason is that he wants to look at your legs while you work.

He watches as you roll your neck, humming when you finally hear the familiar snapping sound.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Johnny sighs, tired of staring at you for hours without being able to discover what’s hidden beneath that skirt of yours.

You frown. “But we’re only on the seventh page.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this work more than I do,” he says with a smirk.

You look down bashfully, avoiding his gaze. “I just don’t think you’ll be ready by Monday if we call it quits.”

“Let me worry about that, hm? I’ll drive you home.”

Your head whips up. “Oh, sir, I couldn’t let you-“

“I want to,” he says firmly.

You smile softly and nod. The two of you pack up the rest of your things, with Johnny storing the paperwork in his briefcase to review for later. He escorts you down to the parking garage and you pile into his vehicle. He observes as you admire the sleek interior, and he’s conscious of the fact that the cost of this car could likely pay your rent for five years. He really does want to offer you a raise to get you into a better apartment in a more decent side of town, but he’s certain you would interpret the gesture as a bribe rather than an act of kindness.

As the vehicle merges onto the busy city road, you pipe up from the passenger seat.

“Are you fighting this weekend?”

The question startles him. You haven’t spoken about his fighting since the moment you told him you would keep his secret.

“Every Saturday,” he replies, sneaking a quick glance over at you.

You have a nervous expression painted on your face. He opens his mouth to ask why before you speak up again.

“Will you be careful?”

The car halts at a red light, and he uses the spare time to fully look at you. You stare back at him, your eyes filled with concern.

It’s completely inappropriate and out of line, but his hand reaches over the dashboard to grab yours. He raises the back of your palm to his mouth, lips brushing over your knuckles. The intimate gesture has you staggering your breath.

“I promise.”

Your words rattle around in his head the following day. He usually doesn’t need any words of encouragement before a fight, his music playlist being enough to boost his spirits. This time, however, he thinks about you tucked away in his car. He pictures your pretty face when he kissed your hand, how your eyes darted away from his in embarrassment.

You’re the reason why he walks into the crowd with a mission, clapping his hands together as he faces his mediocre opponent. When the bell rings, he doesn’t pull his punches as he strikes the first jab into the other man’s face. You’ve awakened something in him and the crowd’s cheers grow louder when he lands blow after blow. It isn’t long before his challenger is stumbling across the floor, falling on his back after Johnny delivers the final thwack against his abdomen.

A hand wraps around his arm and holds it high in the air. The announcer declares his victory, once again proclaiming him undefeated. The roars of the crowd fill his eardrums, but the only person he can think about is you.

His body moves before his mind can convince him otherwise, getting dressed and gathering his things as quickly as possible before exiting the nightclub. He nearly breaks into a sprint in the chilly night air, reaching your apartment within minutes.

When you open the door, your jaw drops open at the sight of him.

“Johnny-“

His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your body backwards until you hit the wall. His nose brushes against yours and your breath hitches, hands reaching up to curl around his wrists.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me I’m crossing a line and I need to walk out that door and never come back.”

He watches your chest rise and fall with each passing breath. Your expression crumbles before you press forward, locking your lips with his.

A frenzy ensues. He shuts the door to your apartment forcefully, almost rattling it off of its hinges. His tongue slips into your waiting mouth, fingers gripping your waist tightly. You’re whimpering against him, basking in the sweat and tanned muscles from his win.

“Sir-“

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his body against yours. You whine when you can feel his hardened member against the fabric of your shorts. “Do you know how much it turns me on whenever you call me that? Always parading around in these fucking tight skirts, calling me sir — you’re practically begging me to stretch you open.”

You pant. “I want you to. I really really want you to.”

You both clumsily move to undress the other, with Johnny’s fingers pulling down your shorts and your hands lifting up his shirt. There’s a little dried blood on his torso as evidence from the fight.

“Sorry, I didn’t shower before I came and-“

“Did you win?”

A pause. “Of course I won.”

Then your lips are on his, tongues swirling together. The kiss is sloppy with the two of you mouthing at one another, desperate to grasp at any physical contact you can. You squeak in surprise when Johnny lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before pinning you against the wall.

He trails kisses down your neck, ripping your old university t-shirt in half and discarding it on the floor. Your sports bra follows after, and he gives you no time to complain before he takes your right nipple into his mouth, licking wildly. He shifts his attention between each breast, fingers flicking at the peaked bud if he neglects one for too long.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, whimpering softly.

“S-Sir-“

“Need me inside you?” He murmurs against your skin. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Please,” you beg, tugging at the strands of his silky brown locks. “I need you so badly.”

He’s quick to release his cock from the confines of his shorts, tip red and leaking. You whine when you see the evidence of his arousal. Johnny knows he’s bigger than most so he moves your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels you practically dripping onto his palm.

“You really do need me badly, hm?” He remarks with a smug grin. “Tell me what’s gotten you so wet, baby.”

“Y-You,” you choke out. “Ever since I saw you fighting as The Destroyer, I-“

Your words are cut off by a piercing scream when the tip of his cock slides into you. He takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, stabilizing you as he cups his hands around your ass, rutting up into you. He can tell you’re marveling at his strength — his ability to lift you like you weigh nothing. He holds you close as his hips piston deep into your cunt.

“Look at what you do to me,” he bites in a venomous tone. “I can’t think properly when I’m around you. Want to bend you over my desk and let the whole office hear you sing for me.” Another sharp thrust has you tightening your hold around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to dangle your legs over his elbows. The angle fully allows him to fuck you perfectly, balancing you in his arms as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your weeping pussy. All you can do is hang onto him for dear life and take it. “Maybe I should invite Doyoung to come watch us. He’s always fucking chasing after you anyways.”

You unravel around him at a breakneck speed, pushed over the edge by the idea of him claiming you for all of your co-workers to see. He grunts when he feels you clench around him, offering a few more thrusts before he’s following suit. You whimper when he releases inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

He finally sets you back down on the ground carefully, chuckling when your shaky legs cause you to stumble into him.

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, hitting his arm.

He kisses you again, hands resting on your lower back. “Do you think you’d be up for another round?” He whispers, eyeing his cum running down your thighs.

“I think you’re crazy,” you reply, which brings forward another bubble of laughter from him. You draw circles over his arm, admiring the swell of his muscles. Your voice shifts into something softer and lighter. “What are we going to do?”

He brushes his lips over your forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me take care of you, hm?”

You giggle when he scoops you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom bridal style, preparing himself to make you moan for him all night.

—

Weeks after your passionate night with Johnny, you reach out to Mr. Ahn to see if there’s an opening at Ahn Books.

He offers a position as a junior editor and you accept it happily, eager to finally begin your career in the writing world. When you announce your departure from Johnny’s company, you’re surprised by the outpour of love you receive. All of the colleagues you spent a fun night out with bring you various flowers and stuffed animals, requesting for you to stay in touch. Johnny isn’t shocked in the slightest, huffing to himself as he tells you that they’re all in love with you. You simply roll your eyes at his jealousy.

At first, you kept your relationship with Johnny a secret in fear that people would assume you slept your way to the top. It proved extremely difficult to keep your boyfriend’s hands off of you, however. He ached to be near you at all times of the day, and you’re ashamed to admit your last two weeks in the office were mainly spent on your knees or bent over his desk.

“Ungh!”

A hand pushes on your lower back, arching your spine. Fingers tangle in your hair and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“What do you expect me to do now, hm? How am I supposed to get my fill of this pussy everyday when it’s across town?”

A smack echoes throughout the room when his hand collides with your ass and you bite down on your palm to prevent the mewls from releasing. No matter how many times you warn Johnny that the staff outside could definitely hear you two, he never holds himself back. There could be articles written the next day about the CEO fucking employees in his office and he wouldn’t bat an eye. His only focus is you, how you feel around him, how fast he can get you to whine for him.

One particular push of his hips has you reeling, gasping as you clench around him. He groans when he feels your climax hit, sending him tumbling over the edge before his warm seed fills you.

“Johnny,” you scold, reaching back to hit him lightly. “You know I stopped taking my birth control.”

“I’m aware, baby. Why do you think we’re moving in together?”

You scoff. You were initially opposed to the idea, but Johnny somehow convinced you that it would be much easier for you to move into his million dollar house and let him drive you to work every morning. There were no downsides to his proposal, truth be told, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were using him for his bank account. He asked if he could fuck your throat to call it even, and you agreed.

He sits back down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Various papers and pens are scattered across the floor from the aftermath of your intimacy.

“It’s going to be a really good thing for you that I’m leaving,” you say, massaging the back of his neck as he licks at your collarbone. His cock is still seated deep inside you. “You haven’t been productive at work in weeks.”

“It’s the job for the next assistant,” he says dismissively. “Let’s go out tonight in celebration?”

“Okay,” you hum in contentment. “I really do want to thank you, you know. I was about to hit rock bottom before I started working for you.”

“No need to thank me, baby. I would do anything for you. As long as you keep supporting The Destroyer, I’m happy.”

You frown. “I’ll only keep supporting you if you remain undefeated. I’d hate to see you seriously injured.”

He laughs at the idea, as if the thought of anyone taking his championship title is unbelievable. He squeezes your hips and slowly begins to rock you back and forth on his cock, and you whine when you realize he’s growing hard again.

“Don’t be silly. No one has a chance against me.”

“D-Do you think we need to tell Jaehyun about us?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s the job for the next assistant.”

Then he throws you over his desk once more, grunting as he claims your body until the sun sets over the horizon.

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

[hybbart]

Day 2506: The world almost ends...

Short story below

The last thing Tango could recall was laying on the ground in a warm pool of his own blood, staring up at a sea of faces gnashing their teeth and claws into his limbs.

And thinking, none of you are Jimmy.

Then everything burned away into darkness.

Yet the world did not end.

It reformed itself a pool of indiscernible reds, an incomplete, deafening whisper, and a biting stench.

A barrier draped itself out over it all. The first shape to ever form, outstretched to block out the colours and sounds and smells. The first feeling accompanied it, something soft and structured, dragging the whole world back down.

And Tango thought for the first time, and he thought, that is Jimmy.

The world was swallowed once more, in its infancy before anything could take form. So, it tried again.

This time it created more than just red. Blacks, blues, greens. Yellow. Tango reached out for it, but had no body with which to do so. Trapped by nothing. There were sounds but they were somewhere else where he wasn’t. Skin he did not have itched and burned. If he could only exist enough to reach, but what little there was soon slipped away. The first, last, and only thing this Tango knew was despair.

So, it tried again.

In this one Tango had a body, he knew, but it was a cage. Cold, stiff, unyielding to him rattling it, begging for freedom. He still couldn’t reach Jimmy, only a shadow in the pool. He screamed, but it made no sound, and he went unseen.

So, it tried again.

Everything burned. Not an inch of his cage went unbitten. If he could he would tear it all off. This time Jimmy heard him, but it did Tango little good. There were too many sounds, too many smells, and they all ripped him apart until there was nothing left.

So, it tried again.

And again, and again, and again.

Until finally the world began to settle into place.

Tango peeled open his eyes, staring up at the clouds, body numb and heavy from the pain. It was like his muscles had turned into snakes biting each other every time he moved, but he could move. He could feel, and think, and hear the nearby sound of bird song.

He tried calling out for Jimmy, voice like shards of glass to his throat and ears. It was good enough. There Jimmy was, leaned over him, blocking out the sun. Though it still burned to do so Tango could feel the weight of a hand on his own. He wished he could assure Jimmy that he was fine.

Jimmy watched him silently. Tango reached out for him again, tears in his eyes. “Jimmy.” He croaked, trying to beckon the avian forward. But he would not move. Tango began to sob. “You’re here. You’re here.”

He opened his mouth. It was as though the whole world went silent to listen. No voice came. Nothing but a sickening crunch. Tango’s vision swam, consumed by Jimmy. Old blood poured from his mouth, drenching Tango below, around the mangled remains of beating flesh. No light filled his eyes, not the bright light of the sun or his own inner sunshine he always carried, or even the black flames consuming his wings. They were as lifeless as the dried mould clinging to his jaw bone and the grey of his cheek.

Tango couldn’t scream.

His own heart wrenched him awake. The rest of him delayed, eyes darting and muscles cramping. Something was squeezing his left arm to death until it was numb. His eyes began to sting from the light piercing right into them. A muffled voice filled the air, and a shadow cast over to block the sun.

“Are you okay?” It asked.

Tango was in too much pain to reply. The shadow stretched out far to canopy the whole sky from view. Wings. They were wings. Tango gasped, trying desperately to call out. “J-”

But his eyes adjusted soon enough, and before him was not feathers made of fall wheat and butter. These were a dusty brown, only golden in the light of the afternoon sun. The eyes that stared down upon him were a piercing sky blue and the shoulders were far too broad. New panic settled within Tango’s bones. Too much of his body hurt to run away.

“Oh, good, you’re awake this time.” He said, voice most certainly not Jimmy’s. His grin was too sharp. “I was starting to think you were just gonna kick the bucket.” The stranger shifted, grabbing something far beyond Tango’s view. “Which would be quite a shame given how much of my supplies you’ve used up.”

Some brightly coloured cylinder was held up towards his face. A water bottle, Tango’s brain finally provided after several seconds. Tango managed to move his mouth enough to accept, its straw preventing him from spilling too horridly over himself. Even still, he quickly found himself choking, sputtering up much of what made it into his mouth. The stranger hummed to himself, waiting for Tango to cease his coughing before trying again, this time one gloved hand cradling the back of Tango’s head to hold him up just slightly. The water went down much easier. Only after it was taken away did it occur to Tango it may not be the best to trust the liquid. He was already a soft breeze away from death, what did it matter?

Because you still have to find Jimmy.

The stranger yelped, but Tango ignored him as he tried to push himself up. “Hey, there!” Hands found their way to the back and front of his torso, the only thing keeping him from collapsing back down as the brief pulse of energy abandoned him. “You took at least fifteen chomps, there, buddy, you’re in no condition to be on your feet.”

Tango tried to explain himself, tried to yell at the man. But all he could get out when he said Jimmy’s name was a squeak that tore up his throat. Insufficient. Though he tried to fight back, the stranger laid him back down. Tango tried not to sob. Everything hurt, everything was going horridly wrong, and his rancher was probably dead in a ditch somewhere. He’d follow soon enough at this rate. It was all so pointless-

Warmth wafted through the air. Sweet and achingly familiar. Tango’s head lulled to watch the stranger as he held up a fork towards him, the fluffy pasty dotted with berries and dripping syrup. “I hope you don’t mind, but I kinda live off instant pancake mix at the moment. If you can eat.”

Tango wasn’t sure he could, but he accepted the offer anyways. Even just the smell would have brought tears to Tango’s eyes if he could cry. The bites kept coming until Tango hadn’t the strength to eat anything more. His body screamed at him to both stop and eat, desperate for the food Tango had been denying it and lacking the strength to continue, stomach rolling in that fashion that he knew meant it would all come back up if he tried.

Silence returned while the stranger finished the rest, most of it still there. Anything else might have made Tango throw up from the smell anyways. All he could think of instead was breezy summer mornings, sat at an uneven oak table covered in blemishes that they never got around to replacing, throwing plastic tablecloths over instead. Coffee that became tea that became increasingly questionable flower water that became tea once more. The distant sounds of mooing and much closer sounds of barking, and, somewhere in between, a bird song matching whatever was on the stereo.

Why had they left? They should have stayed on the ranch. He should have tried harder to convince Jimmy not to go, should have put his foot down. When that bridge came into view he should have immediately turned them back around. They saw the ocean, and what good did it do them? Jimmy died, lost and far away from home, and Tango would soon join him...

The next time Tango woke up it was early morning. Something loud had ripped him from his slumber, but he could not for the life of him recall what it was. As best he could he looked around, and found the stranger shutting a cabinet set against a far wall. Tango must have made some sort of noise, because his head immediately swivelled towards him. “You’re awake again.” He said, matter of factly. There was too much energy in his hops to a kitchen. Did all avians wake up at the crack of dawn?

It was almost hard to watch the man, actually. Tango had seen it with Grian, but it hadn’t registered. Because he was a puffball and it only seemed natural, or because he’d never had reason to note it. This strangers talons similarly rarely touched the ground, taking leaps and bounds to reach for anything. Wings casually unfurled themselves to glide him across the room. It was so different to Jimmy, who stumbled his way everywhere, only used his wings for balance.

More food was set in front of him, this time a small bowl of mixed berries. “I already ate.” Explained the stranger while he held out a spoonful. “If it’s too hard to chew I can blitz it into a smoothie.”

“No.” Tango croaked. Easier than last time, but his throat still felt like it was splintering.

The stranger quietly fed him. The sun was quickly rising, but the avian didn’t seem to have anywhere to be. At some point Tango thought he heard the bark of a dog, but no one else came into the sky-lit room. The stranger’s clothes were not the sort one wore when they knew zombies were nearby. His sweater was sleeveless and his gloves were for sport, to keep frog scratching his hands and keeping a good grip, rather than the heavy leather work gloves Jimmy wore. The sort of thing they’d wear on peaceful days at the ranch, not the city Tango thought he was last in.

“So,” The man rocked his head slightly as he put the half-empty bowl aside. “You got a name, stranger? If you’re up for talkin’ of course.”

“Tango.” His voice scratched worse than it usually did, almost incoherent to his own ears. No long sentences, then. “You?”

“Wels, at your service.” He did a small bow, smile widening. “There’s not a lot of survivors out here these days, Tango. You musta come quite a ways?”

He nodded, wincing at the sting in his neck. Had he been bitten there? “We came from the mountains.”

Wels’ eyebrow rose. His hands began moving just outside Tango’s vision, fiddling with something. “’We’, huh? Run into some bad luck?”

“I’m looking.” Tango quickly snapped. “We got separated. He’s here.”

“You don’t sound like you believe that.”

Of course he didn’t. Tango had never been the optimistic sort. It was Jimmy who comforted them when things went wrong, calmed Tango down when he lost his temper. Thought there’d be an adventure to have exploring uncharted territory. If it was Jimmy here and now instead, he’d be just as determined as day one. Tango couldn’t do that, could barely hope to even find a body. But... “If I stop looking, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

The room fell quiet. A rough hand lifted the stump of Tango’s left arm, peeling something off it. It stung, but not as much as the air did seconds later. Tango grit his teeth. It last too long, but eventually it subsided into a dull ache. Even without looking he knew it was swollen and ugly, raw from wearing his arm for too long. It would take too much time to pull on and off without help. Why was he so stupid as to design it that way? Like he’d never be alone?

The dog outside continued to bark.

“Well, then,” Wels sighed. “Guess if you gotta keep looking then I’ll have to keep my eyes open, too.”

Tango strained to shake his head, “You don’t have to-

“Hey, it’s my city. Who better to keep an eye out? Besides,” He stood up, spreading his wings wide enough to block out the skylight, “You aren’t really getting out of bed any time soon, and you can’t exactly get back down without my help anyways.”

“Down?” Tango murmured to himself, turning towards the sunlight.

His vision was still a mess, but he could see it. Behind stacks of supplies and reorganized furniture was a wall-wide glass balcony, doors wedged wide open. Peeking over the rail was the very top of a half-dozen skyscrapers he recognized from the ground.

Wels hopped over towards the open doors, grabbing various items from a table. A bag, rope, a sword- was that metal gauntlets? By the time he’d kitted out he looked like he’d raided a museum exhibit. When he noticed Tango’s staring he gave him a grin and a thumbs up. “Gotta go for a water and medicine run. Be back before the sun sets.” He jumped up onto the railing, but paused. “Say, uh, what’d your buddy look like? In case I run into him.”

“Blond.” Tango rasped. “Lanky, bit taller than you. Long yellow wings. Should be with a big black dog with no eyes. Hopefully...”

Something in the man’s wings tensed, smile falling away. “A canary avian?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you- how did you say you got separated.”

“He was gone when I woke up. He kept-”

“Wandering off?”

The blazeborn’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah... What-”

But Wels unfurled his wings once more, waving his hand dismissively. “We’ll talk later, when I get back. You should rest up, get back on your feet.”

With that he was gone.

Tango could feel his heart hammering in his chest, wounds pulsing down his limbs. He turned his gaze up to the ceiling. How on earth was he supposed to rest after that?