#please consider reblogging I’m very proud of these :’] | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chronically-ghosted · 11 days

Text

iron and charcoal

rating: explicit 18+ pairing: pero tovar x f!reader word count: 6.9K summary: Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without – Her. He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come. OR Pero falls hard for a princess and doesn’t know what to do with himself on your wedding night. warnings: angst, brief classism/xenophobia two very stubborn people, pero experiences one Human Emotion and cannot fully process it, arranged marriage, yearning, smut LIKE WOW, soft!pero that i broke my own heart with a/n: Thank you so much to @perotovar for this request: "congrats on your milestone, my love! so happy for you <33 i'm sending a little astrology 💫 + pero & #6 on the fluffy list OR #1 on the smutty list (whichever is speaking to you), because i wanna see your take on him 👀” – of course I chose the slutty one, just for you 😉 I’m actually pretty proud of this one - please consider reblogging if you like it too!

*the image in the header is for aesthetic purposes only and does not reflect the appearance of the reader*

🤍Masterlist 🤍Pero Tovar Masterlist

💜come see what else we've done to celebrate 1K followers

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

Sometimes before battle, the clatter inside Pero’s head goes silent. It listens. It waits.

Other times, it roars. Memories of family, of dead amigos, of mujeres he fucked – they all buck and scratch for a chance to blaze across his mind like a dust storm kicked up by an unbroken mustang.

He doesn’t know which one he prefers or which one will win out. They both have their uses, necessary states of mind to survive whatever is barreling towards him – an ax, a monster out of legend, some other drunken mercenary he intentionally pissed off. It’s an unconscious decision, yet one that has served him well so far. He wouldn’t be alive today if some deep, primal part of him knew what he needed to live through another battle.

And yet, his own trunk knocking against his hips as he climbed the sickly ostentatious stone steps to the top of the parapet, the handles starting to pinch his fingers, the barest – nearly invisible – tremor in his knees, he cannot fathom, for the life of him, why that singular phrase from his abuela played in his head like water swirling around and around a cenote.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

His inner voice, taking on a myriad of forms, of sounds and voices, never quite standing still, the one companion he could always rely on.

Maybe it was warning him. Dust yourself off, boy, you know exactly how this was going to end.

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana.

But there would be no tomorrow. No future, no light of dawn – not without –

Her.

He’d never heal because tomorrow would never come.

He feels sweat escape from the nape of curls at his neck, his cheeks warm and chest hot. Two more flights, he can manage two more flights.

His abuela also liked to tell him something else: if hell doesn’t get him, his pride certainly will.

It’s certainly what got him into this ridiculous farce in the first place. Because he can’t alchemize whatever is in his gut into vocalized syllables, he instead has to climb a truly incalculable amount of stairs, while carrying a ragged, torn trunk that weighs as much as his armor.

Because he can’t form the right words, any words, about what he carries lodged beneath his breastbone for her. What draws him up and up and up and up because it’s lighter than hope, makes him lighter than air, and yet it clogs him up, chokes him out all the same. His pride, his vanity, cuts through it, through her – enough to keep him tongueless and dry but not enough to offer this lightness in his chest to her, for her. He can’t take the light out of him or else he fears what he will truly become.

So, he walks, he goes around and around on unforgiving stone steps until finally there is a door. He thinks about waiting, to catch his breath, but he knows he will just as easily turn around and go back the way he came, trunk still heavy and knocking against his hips, and that pride will be the death of him. So he keeps going, opens the handle, and makes abrupt eye contact with the two guards outside her door. They seem uninterested and unamused in his sweaty, stilted breathing, but by his less-than-royal attire, they easily clock him as one of their own; a man who fights to make his way in the world. The one on the left nods jerkily at him.

What they see him as, what he will always be, is nearly the reason he kicks that fucking trunk all the way back down. Instead, he nods back, shoulders rounded, eyes down.

“The princesa - the princess - is requesting the last of her things, to be b-brought up from the stables –,” he clears his throat, “drop this off for her and –,”

“Can’t let you in. King’s orders.” The one on the right sees him as something else – a foreigner first and foremost, their similar stations in life irrelevant. His bright blue eyes rove over Pero’s dark skin, dark hair, jagged scar, distaste and disgust smearing his already ugly features. But he had been dealing with men like these all his life.

“Bueno, you can explain to the King himself why his daughter’s belongings were lost and disregarded. I hear she’s very fond of the Italian prints at the bottom of this . . .”

The guards glance at each other, calculating way above their paygrade. Pero jostles the trunk as if to show he is not above throwing it out the window.

“Fine.” The second one snaps. “Drop it inside and come back immediately.”

He drops his head, a good little foreign boy. “Gracias, señor.”

The heavy wooden door opens beneath the iron lock and the instant he is through, he bolts it behind him. Waits to see if the guards notice. They don’t. Perfectamente – all the time in the world.

All in the time in the world – for what?

To fail? Again?

He stows the trunk in front of the door, extra time, a few seconds maybe – as if she wouldn’t just tell him to get out the instant she laid eyes on him. Only time will tell.

Out of the atrium, another door, this one set deep into the wall. A last line of defense. He knocks, once, then twice, then waits. El orgullo chokes him again but fuck it, he’s come this far. He knocks again, knocks something in his chest free and, with it, spill the words:

“Princesa? It’s me. I –,” it throttles him, “princesa, can you open the door?”

Silence. His heart sits, buried in that trunk. Then –

“It’s unlocked, Pero.”

His heart in his throat, he opens the door to presumably what will be your marriage bed. And yet, by the state of things, you could have been moving out of it. Trunks and bags stack high against the far wall – those fucking trunks he made such a scene over because the unnecessary weight would slow them all down remain untouched, arranged as they had been when they had been first brought in. He didn’t quite know what to make of that, his thumb absently pressing into the callus of his other hand as he glanced around. It is a beautiful room – tall windows, etched in scarlet drapes, to match the scarlet curtains around the bed. With gold thread and impossibly detailed paintings of the countryside, it is fit for a princess, a some-day queen. This is where someone with royal blood deserved to be, not in the back of a hot carriage for weeks on end, surrounded by dirty, loud, rough men.

And yet, with your hair down, expansive gown from the ball tonight replaced with a simple cotton dress, you could not have been more out of place. Pero’s heart lurches briefly, moisture seeping from his mouth, as he realizes this is the same dress he bought you when the two of you had been accidentally separated by the caravan and your previous dress had been ruined in the mud. He had no idea you still kept it, much less wore it ever again.

But if anyone asked him, you look more beautiful in this than any silk or velvet.

Instead of unpacking, settling into your new home and eventual role as wife, you sit hunched over at the intricately carved mahogany desk, eagle feather quill scratching against parchment. You finish with a flourish and look over your shoulder at him, your eyes annoyingly unreadable.

“Yes?”

A stupid brute some may call him, but he wasn’t entirely without awareness. Observation of your customs and what you considered inappropriate only encouraged him: if you really didn’t want him here, you would never have let him see you in this state.

But it’s hard to remember that under your icy stare.

“Y-your things, Princesa. The last from the caravan.”

Your eyes slide over him, to the trunk in the shadows of the atrium. He can tell from a single glance that you know as well as he that trunk is not yours, that no one told him to come here with it, and yet he did it all the same. Something flashes over your eyes but it’s gone by the time you meet his gaze again.

“Thank you. I am, as always, indebted to you.”

He hates your words, but warmth spreads in his gut at the way you say it. That’s how it’s always been between you and him – saying one thing but meaning another. He’d never appreciated a sharp mind like yours until he realized you wield it as he wields a sharp sword.

There are many things he’d never even dreamed of before he met you.

“Then, this means you’re leaving, I suppose.” You draw your sword against him. The metal flashes in your eyes as you stand, one hand against the curved tip of your chair. A bronze halo rims your outline, the fire behind you burning bright and hot. He knows if he touched your shoulder, your neck, your skin would be wonderfully warm.

He wets his lips. “Si. Our contract with your father is done.”

You drop his gaze, your lips tightening for a minute, your fingers running through the carvings of wood on the chair. “Even with William in his state? Would it not be better for him to stay and recover? The journey home is –,” you pause, as though someone had thrown a hand over your mouth, “– the journey back east is long.”

All the longer without you.

“William, he is not an idle man. Two days of bedrest is often all he can take.”

You grin, in spite of this thing circling you both. “Unless he finds the nun attending to him beautiful.

“He finds them all beautiful.”

Your smile expands wide across your bright face when you find him smiling at you too.

This – if this is to be his last memory of you (his heart wrenches at the thought) – this is the you he wants imprinted on his soul: smiling and glowing by firelight.

But as quickly as it came, that grin that warms him down to his bones, fades. In an instant, your eyes grow soft, your mouth twisted, jaw tight.

“Where will you go?” you ask, in the quietest voice you’d ever addressed him with.

It pains him, physically aches within him, to hear the distress in your voice. He hasn’t even thought about the next contract, the next royal cabrón who intends to yank him all across God’s green earth to perform a task he can’t be fucked to take on himself. How can he possibly answer you? Nowhere, without you. To rot in a dark hole in the ground? Off a cliff? What answer would provide you or him any sort of satisfaction?

“Wherever the coin goes,” he says and the words scrape his tongue like bile. That ache in his chest spiraling rapidly, deep into his gut – like a poisoned limb he cannot amputate – he does the same thing he always does when he’s hurt: he makes others hurt until they leave him alone. “You do not have to worry, princesa, your new husband will keep you in such comfort you will never wonder where the coin comes from.”

He must be a truly sick man, for the knife-sharp glare you throw at him only knots arousal around the base of his spine. It tugs on something attached directly to his groin which, in turn, yanks the next words out of his mouth.

“He looked especially happy with you in his arms on the dance floor tonight.”

The icy shards in your eyes go brittle and crack. His heart races; he’s overplayed his hand.

“You watched me dance?”

“All guardsmen were required to –,”

You shake your head, eyes bright and searing through him. “No. It was only the King’s Knights there in attendance.”

Your hand trailing off the edge of the chair, you take a step forward and he feels his weight shift back onto his heels. But he remains firm.

Sana, sana.

“Pero, why did you come here tonight?”

“To return the last of your things, princesa. What else is there?”

You flinch, as if he had raised his voice to you. What else is there indeed?

“Not even to . . . say goodbye? Sixteen weeks on the road is an awfully long time to be around someone, only for them to . . . leave so soon.”

He locks his knees to keep them from shaking. “Do you wish for me to tell you goodbye, princesa?”

There’s something painfully sad about the way you smile at him. “I wish for whatever would make you happiest.”

Anger roars within him, hungry and hot, like a burn from a white flame. Why can’t you just admit it? Why do you avoid it time and time again? He knows he hasn’t misread anything you’ve sent his way, so why? Why are you so vested in torturing him this way?

“Coin makes me happy and, now that I have it, there’s nothing to keep me here.”

There, that hurts you too, just as he meant it.

“Then leave.” They could make ice fortresses out of the strength of your bone-cold stare. “If you have nothing else to say, then take your goddamn trunk and get out of my sight.”

The flame scorches him, ripping him apart and in his anger, making him cruel.

He bows to you.

“I imagine you will be very happy with your new husband, ranita.”

The term slips from his lips before he can stop it, but his throat and cheeks blister so badly, he physically can’t open his mouth to correct his mistake. Instead, he turns and strides towards the door.

He thinks he hears a gasp from behind him, a sharp sound like breaking glass – small, tinkling, tragic. It spears him through his chest, pierces his heart.

He gets to the door and pauses.

If you have nothing else to say . . .

Of course he has something to say – words in English and Spanish and broken dialects gathered like poisonous lichen all churning in the boiling cauldron of his mind, but nothing will suffice – nothing reflects or compares to the grief he is already feeling, the despair, the anguish that has settled into all the fleshy joints in his body. Not his pride, but this, saying goodbye to you, this is what actually will kill him.

Every word imaginable crawls up his throat and rages in his mouth, presses up against his teeth, begging for something, anything to be let out, to be free, to tell you that he cannot fucking live without you–

Nothing comes through, but one single word.

“Don’t.”

The fire crackles in the silence, a wicked god pleased at the display of carnage.

“What did you say?”

A dull thud echoes from where he drops his forehead against the wood of the door, all anger flooding out of his system. Do you have any idea the power you hold over him? One request, one tremor in your voice and his knees all but buckle at your altar.

Fuck it.

He always thought he’d go out in a blaze of bloody glory, but he’d never expected to be so exposed, so flayed like this.

“Don’t,” he repeats, his throat as dry as sand. “Do not . . . marry him. Please.”

The vision of your great warrior slumped against the door frame, his neck bent, shoulders curled up to his ears has your already pounding heart leaping forward into a gallop. He is defeated, laid low. You watch his guts all but pool out on your hearth.

He looks about as hopeless and anguished as you feel.

Your soldier, your man of iron and charcoal, goes blurry in your eyes.

“And what would you have me do, Pero?” Your plea is damp, malleable at the edges. You press your hand flat against your chest, near your throat, as if you could pull the grief lodged there with your fingers. “I have been engaged to this man before I was even born. How can I stop this?”

“Fight.” The word snarls against his bare teeth. He turns, his eyes liquid ink, and suddenly he has you by the shoulders. His thumbs nervously skitter around the curve of your shoulder, gaze just as unsteady and unfocused as it wavers between your hands, your earlobe, your neck. "Where is my brave girl who fights for what she wants, hm? Fight – for me, please.”

Fight, he asks – but in spite of him or because of him?

You lay your hands on the silver shine of his breastplate, watch as they rise and fall with his steady flow of breath. How many nights had you woken up against that shine, in the crook of his arm for warmth, or protection? You didn’t cherish it at the time because you never knew when it would be your last.

“Why won’t you fight, princesa?” His voice is low, strained, the groan of a wagon wheel before it breaks. You meet his gaze and the exposed look on his face, softening every line on his mouth and around his eyes, nearly sends you into hysterics. You swallow the tears, swallow the hook in your throat as your fingers curl around the clasps of his cape.

"Because if I don't fight then I can't lose.” His fingers slip from your shoulders, to your elbows, to your waist. You inhale and the scents of warm leather, oil, and ash flood your mouth. The tip of your nose is inches from the scruff of beard against his cheek, the ruddy brown of his sun-drenched skin. He has curled you into him and this, you do not fight either. His massive palms map your back, against your skin, but without any urgency or control. “If I can’t lose, that means I don’t lose you. You'll just be . . . gone."

That last word is a lie. It hangs in the air like a sweltering humid rain and you both know you’re lying. He has you wrapped up in his arms, you didn’t stop him even for a second, and you are all too aware that it would take some great, insidious alchemy to ever truly tear him out of you.

You stare at his silver collar, defiant against the waves you had managed to shackle down until this very moment: a wave of hopeless crashes into you, a wave of heartbreak, a wave of helpless that fills your eyes to the point of spilling with that very same salt water.

He touches your cheek delicately, fingers rough with callouses, and the floodgates break open with a sob.

“Preciosa,” he rumbles softly against your hairline, “hush. You break my heart with your tears.”

“Do not mock me, Tovar. Not now.” you sniff, trying to turn your face but his wide hands catch you around the cheeks.

“You are beyond mocking. I’d show you my heavy heart but I do not wish that weight on anyone.” The snag of his rough thumbs against your cheek draws your watery gaze to him. His mouth is a flat line, barred against whatever climbs his throat, but his eyes move like mercury across your nose, your eyelashes, the arch of your cheek. Your fingers wrap themselves around his wrists, a grounding agent against the waves that threaten to pull you under.

“Pero, I –,”

“I have fought you, tooth and nail, for days without end. Every favor, every breath, you have forced them from me. I fight my own mind when I sleep at night. Sueños, always of the same woman.” He smears away the tears with his thumbs, gently, sweetly, before pressing his lips to your wet flesh by his knuckle. He inhales deeply, eyes closed, mouth hovering stationary above the skin of your cheek. “You fight me every step of the way . . . and I am so tired of fighting.”

For all your struggling, for all your tearing and clawing and snarling against the blooming in your chest, nothing is as easy as it is to turn your head and press your lips to his.

The brush of his bristled mustache against your upper lip. His warm, rough palms holding you steady. His lips soft and hot. You are overwhelmed by the scent of him.

There is nothing like, and nothing will ever be like, finally kissing Pero Tovar.

All it takes is the movement of his hands from your cheeks to your lower back, the light trace of his tongue against your lips, and the yearning you’d been smothering for weeks now roars to life. His hands squeeze your hips and you can suddenly barely breathe.

“Pero–,” the noise in the shape of his name that escapes you is near a whine, begging. He nips at your lips, hand firmly at the cup of your jaw, mouth now rough and insistent, and your fingers claw up his neck, wrapping themselves in his dark curls. You tug, nails scratching his scalp, and he groans into your mouth as if you’d just kneed him in the gut.

A thread-bare gasp of your name from his lips splits you from him, then his hand on your hip and the back of your neck pushing you backwards gives you enough air to breathe – to think.

"Your husband will know you're not a virgin,” Pero warns, breathing hard and fast, his eyes like black flints, “if we go on."

You curl your fingers around his neck, dragging your mouth near his jaw, the soft skin at the edge of his ear.

"Then he will also know my heart is not his either.” You ask everything of him with this. His armor blocks his warm body from you – you want to sink inside his hard shell. “If you’ll have it.”

He is not himself, half-human with an inhuman want, with the snarl that leaves him.

“Don’t make such promises, dulzura –,” A threat, a dog forced to expose its underbelly, fear radiating like the pain from a broken bone. Your fingers dig into the buckles of his cape, steadying you against a sudden terrible awareness that bloomed, purple-bruised.

“Unless you don’t want –,”

The desk rattles when your hips break against it, the force of his kiss enough to topple over your inkwell, spill rolls of parchment to the floor. The wood groans under your weight when he gathers the thick swell of your thighs in his hands, heaves you onto the flat surface, and spreads your knees around his waist. He is as hard as the iron on his chest.

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

A frantic sigh of relief, a groan shared between two pairs of lips, seeking skin and warmth and other hungry places.

He drags you onto his chest, your skirt bunched up around your hips, the rings of his armor digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, his mouth covering yours in wet pulls, and he stands up right, as though you weighed less than his sword.

A stumble, and he spreads you out on the velvet covers of your marriage bed, his hands imprinting on your hips, your knees, the supple meat of your calves. The touch of him on your bare skin feels like the licks of flames, the smoke of arousal blurring your awareness and dragging your eyelids half-closed. On his heels at the edge of the bed, the flint shards of his eyes drift over the bones of your ankles, the bend of your knee, your heaving chest, hair in snarls around your neck and caught behind your back, and finally to your cunt, hidden by the folds of your dress.

Velvet hums as you slide your ankles to the curve of your ass, widening your legs, parting your knees. His lips part open, dark want etching every line of his face. You feel the wet linen of your dress cling to your achy cunt. He swallows, unbuckling his cape one latch at a time, his eyes nowhere else. The metal clatters as it falls to the floor.

Piece by piece, the chinks in his armor fall away. Piece by piece, he is revealed to you. Your hands rise up, up your thighs to your knees, your thumbs rubbing soft circles. He watches, never tears his gaze away from your sticky hole, his nimble fingers working away the buckles and knots with practiced precision. You can see it in his eyes – memories of bedrolls by firelight, of such a deep painful, yearning ache, separated only by thin tarp, they are a physical weight beside you in this marriage bed.

You see them because they’re there for you too. You see them because you've been here a dozen times, on your back, legs spread wide, your hands circling but never dipping, waiting. Wanting. For him.

His bare chest is warm, the wings of his ribs expanding around short, half-drawn breaths, as he crawls up into your pliant mouth. The kisses are slow, like before, with a crackle of heat just beyond them, his hips slipping into the cradle of your thighs, the wet warmth of you separated by the thin linen of your dress. He sucks the tendon below your ear, a whine slipping out of your mouth, fingers spreading over the harsh planes of his back, and his cock bobs against your thigh.

Pero is bare and warm and entirely yours. All man beneath the sweltering armor.

“Amorcita,” he drips into your ear, kisses smeared against your collarbone, your mouth, your earlobe, “amorcita, amorcita . . . ranita, let me take you.”

He starts to use teeth, a harder nip behind his kisses, when he dips down to your chest. A wide palm with stocky fingers grasps at your breast and it’s a startling sensation for you both.

“Soft,” he moans before licking up under the supple curve of your breast, mouthing at what his tongue missed. He slips your erect nipple into his mouth and twists it between his teeth. “Sweet,” he murmurs with your nipple firmly between his lips.

This is unlike anything you’ve felt before. You deliriously thank the gods that he hadn’t touched you like this on the road; you would have kept him, your own wild animal, in bed without rest for days on end.

Pero plucks just as aggressively at your other breast, the spit-wet nipple that preoccupied his mouth verging on purple and aching. He cups you from the outside this time, squeezing and massaging, ringing your nipple with his tongue until your back bows and you let out a whine that has his eyes flickering up to you, the scent of wounded prey filling his nostrils.

That whine of pleasure elongates into a whimper: “please.”

“Tranquila, ranita.” His touch is softer around your bruised tits, but he keeps one hand bagging the weight of your breast while the other slips beneath your skirt.

The pads of his fingers brush your creamy cunt and with a yelp, you grab him by the wrist, your eyes open with a familiar emotion he draws out of you: rage.

“Pero Tovar, if you value your life you will take me under the covers and put your —,”

He chuckles, his cheek against yours, nose rimming the velvet hairs on the ridges of your ear. The vibrations liquify the tension in your bones, loosening your grip. Your eyes flutter, slick obviously running down his fingers. “Ranita, I don’t think you know how you want to end that sentence..”

His words roll like honey over the heat of your skin. It makes your skin tremble. Your grip tightens on his wrist and you roll your hips, your swollen clit finally relieved by the pressure of his palm.

“Oh, oh, Pero—,”

With a grunt, he shuffled closer, elbow by your shoulder and he cups your entire wet cunt in his hand, pushing the heel of his palm flatter against you. You cry out, a sparkling kind of pleasure radiating out from where his hand rests. You buck your hips faster, complete release flickering through your outstretched hand.

“Can you come like this?” You nod, eyes squeezed shut as you barrel towards escape, and you feel him shudder next to you. You are intimately aware that he’s rubbing his cock on the crease of your hip bone but that only drags you faster towards the light. “Then come, ranita, come and I’ll fuck you.”

The wet, curling heat growing between your legs descends, then in a bright snap, explodes across your body.

“Fuck!” You tear open your eyes to find them damp, Pero’s massive hand cupping your cheek towards him, his stallion eyes dark as his fingers drag on the soaked material of your dress, your hips slowing.

“Amorcita, breathe.” The words are torn from his chest, all cock-suredness gone from his frantic gaze. You gulp in air, the weight of his body over yours grounding and smothering you all at once. He pulls his hand away from you, rides it up your thigh to your waist, looking for something to hold onto. He strokes his thumb once against your overheated skin and you’re wriggling up out of your dress.

“Help,” you hiss and his fingers nearly tear the fabric off you.

With a few undone buttons, you shiver out of your dress, the slick-drenched spots catching on your warm skin. He flings it behind him, near the fireplace.

He takes you barely beneath the thick covers before you welcome him back to the heat of your open legs.

But instead of reeling back and plunging his aching cock into you, he takes the time to kiss you. To praise you in all the ways he fears his mouth will end up short. He kisses you, grateful, reverent – wonderful to be swallowed by but also a distraction.

When he lifts your knees by his waist, your hips automatically tilt towards him and for the first time, you feel his red, sore cock between your tacky lips. The dual sensation nearly drags you over the rack of delectably delicious pleasure, as does his worn, broken groan in your ear.

“More, please, don’t stop.” You cry against the bristles of his beard, his hand dropping between your sweat-slick bodies, finding yours already there to guide him. The press of him spreads you open, filling you one sinking notch at a time. The sensation of your pink, dripping walls moving to take more of him in has you arching up into his chest, nails dragging into his back. His dry lips stifle the moans escaping from your mouth.

Pero takes both of your hands in his, dragging them above your head, his fingers locking your palms together as his hips roll forward. “Cálmate, amorcita, cálmate,” he murmurs between distracted presses of his mouth against your chin, your cheek, his breathing heavy and stunted. You writhe, pinned open by his hips and his hands, his cock filling you all too slowly and not fast enough.

With the last few inches, you take him completely, your cunt throbbing, heart pounding, intoxicated by the sensation of being so maddeningly full. Pero drapes over you, his head tucked into your neck, forearms straining with the tension of gripping your hands tightly.

“Santa madre . . .” He is not a warrior right now. He is but a man, cunt-drunk and heaving.

His name is pushed out of the bottom of your lungs with the first swing of his hips. You cling to him, knees at his ribs, unwilling to let even an inch of space between your bodies. But this becomes increasingly difficult as his thrusts gain speed. His flushed lips stain a sticky line against your jaw, down to your throat, and he releases your hands, the oak of the bed creaking beneath the force of him drilling down into you, he props himself up on his palms, his shoulders bent and curled over you, biceps straining, hairline damp, eyelids fluttering. The scar on his cheek is flushed pink.

“Look, amorcita, look how well you take me.”

His words tear you from your nebulous high, the grit of them forcing your head down to the obscene squelch beneath the sheets. The thatch of rough curls over his groin is drenched in slick, his thick cock soaked to the point of shine as it drives into you again and again. The heavy draft of breath the sight steals from him, the tap of his cock against a place so deep you didn’t know your body possessed, draws the spooling bliss as tight as a wire.

Your trembling thighs squeeze him tighter, that hot pressure rendering you speechless, except for the most pathetic whine. Please, Pero, please, you think, you mutter, you whisper, your body rocking damp against the sheets.

With a sudden snarl, he takes the chunk of your hair at the base of your head flat in his fists and tugs. A shoot of bright pain sparks bliss down to your tight and bruised nipples, and you cry out again.

“Stop fighting, puedo sentir cuanto la quieres. Let me have it.” It is the following word that splits you open like lighting carving apart a tree. “Please.”

The wail that you release is the rush of gooseflesh over your skin alchemized into audible sound. Heat radiates through you, sucking the air from your lungs, your vision going blurry, then black as you clamp your eyes shut against the rush, the final release, that curls you into his arms. His warm, flushed arms, shaking with strain. A final wobbly thrust or two and his elbows are buckling, sweat-drenched chest pressing into your own.

Distantly, you are aware of the warm, slick drip down your thighs, his cock pulsing the last drops into your cum-flecked cunt, and the dangers this sort of intimacy poses. You can’t gather enough breath, enough sense to settle the spinning room, to worry or even care.

Your his, and he is yours. That is all that will ever matter.

The crackle of wood burning is the only other sound than your ragged breaths, the silent roll of sweat from sticky hot skins into the bedsheets. The stone walls of the castle’s room entomb you together for a brief stretch of infinity.

Pero moves and you think he’s going to back out of you, but instead, he merely adjusts, his head fully on your chest, thick fingers clutching your bruised waist, the shift of his cock pushing more of his release out of your oversensitive cunt. But you’ll take overstimulation over his absence every time. You run your fingers through his damp curls and he hums.

“I’m sorry,” he huffs into your humid skin. “I’m sorry I let my pride keep us apart for so long.”

You grin lazily to the ceiling, your breath settling as affection takes its place in your chest.

“You were not the only one blinded by vanity.”

“But I’m not blind. Not anymore.” He lifts his head, eyes as dark as your spilled inkwell. “I am never letting you go.”

You smile at him, fingers soft against the back of his neck. “I don’t plan on wandering away.”

His oil-black gaze drops to your lips and he leans forward to take your mouth against his. Gentle, but with the promise of more.

“Mi ranita,” he purrs to break the kiss.

“You call me that all the time, Pero. What does it mean?”

At that, a nearly shy expression crosses his face. He shakes his head, shifting onto his elbows to lift off you. “I can’t tell you. It will ruin your good mood.”

You gasp, offended, and you grab him by the ear and twist. He chuckles through a grimace. “You will tell me what that means, Pero Tovar, if you value your appendages.”

“Órale, princesa, retract your claws and I will tell you.”

You release your grip and settle against your pillow. Grinning bashfully, he kisses your neck briefly.

“Remember that I love you after I tell you this.”

Your heart nearly stops, the absence of a steady beat nearly drawing tears to your eyes but you hold firm. You breathe deeply against the fluttering in your stomach and pin him with your glare. Of course, this is how he would profess his love to you – when he’s trying to get out of trouble.

“Tell me, Tovar!”

He chuckles again and preemptively picks up your hands. He kisses the inside of your palms, settling himself between your thighs.

“It means little frog.” Your mouth falls open in a gasp and you struggle to yank your hands back from him, hissing like a tea kettle, but he uses his weight to press down on you. He nips at your nose. “I call you that because when you’re upset with me, much like you are now, you puff up like a bullfrog, your cheeks like this–,”

He rounds his cheeks full of air, crossing his eyes, and you simply cannot take the slight anymore. You push roughly against his gut, the breath trapped in his mouth escaping in a hot puff, and you twist him onto his back. He lets you, of course, his bold, full laughter rendering him defenseless. His body shakes beneath you, his beautiful eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open wide as he laughs and laughs and laughs. You take him by the wrists and push his limp hands over his head, pinning him as he had you. You pinch his chin with your teeth, your messy cunt over his stomach, as his laughter subsides.

“Have you had your fun yet?”

“Barely,” he chuckles, turning his big nose against your cheek and inhaling. He hums.

“Is that all I am to you? A joke?”

Pero opens his eyes, sober as death rattle. He takes you in, not in a hungry, all-consuming way, but in a look that speaks of awe and rapture.

“You are everything to me.”

You sigh, releasing his hands and curling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, your eyes on the roaring fire. His thumbs rub your shoulder blades, trace the lines of your spine.

“You’re so very lucky I love you too.”

His wandering against the expanse of your back stills, just for a moment, before his fingers slide into your hair, around the nape of your neck, holding you to him with the intention of keeping you there forever.

“I know, ranita, I know.”

He watches you sleep as the sky lightens beyond the tall windows on the opposite side of the bedroom. The dying fire traces your edges in gold, settling heat in the curve of your lips.

His heart lurches with the wanting of you.

There’s more terrible things to come, he knows that. The plan the two of you concocted in the early morning hours will be dangerous, deadly even. But dying together instead of living apart would be much more tolerable, you told him earlier that night, your hand on his chest.

He would kill if you asked. He would kill, even if you didn’t, to keep you safe and by his side. You’ve proven yourself capable of living a life away from this spectacular opulence, but it pains him to know he will never be able to give you anything nearly as lovely as the velvet dresses in the closet, the gold jewelry in your trunks.

Instead, all he has to offer is himself. His strength, his hands, his heart. It’s his own fear that tells him that’s not enough, because you remind him again and again that’s more than you ever wanted.

He traces the curve of your cheek with the hovering pad of his finger, brushing your hair away from your face. How he ended up so lucky with your love, he’ll never know, but he will spend the rest of his days proving that he’s earned it.

You stir in your sleep, sensing him above you, and he hates to steal even a few minutes of blissful sleep from you, knowing the endless nights that are coming. When he steals you away from all that you’ve ever known.

The sleepy grumble in your throat resembles his name as he curls around you, but your eyes remain gently closed. He pulls you against him, the air that leaves your mouth and sits between your chest and his something he covets with his whole heart.

I love you and I’m disgustingly lucky and I love you.

He is a man made of dust, serving men made of silver. He is a man of dust, loving a woman made of gold.

El orgullo? No, Abuela, his ranita will get him first, last, and every time.

Translations:

Sana sana culito de rana. Si no sana hoy, sanará mañana. - This rhyme is typically said to children when they have just hurt themselves. The parent (or grandparent) usually rubs the part that is sore and sings this little tune. Literally translates to: "heal, heal, little frog’s tail. If you don’t heal today, you will heal tomorrow."

el orgullo - pride

dulzura - sweetness, romantic connotation

amorcita - little love, romantic connotation

Tranquila - quiet, as in "be quiet" or "relax"

Cálmate - take it easy, or take it slow

puedo sentir cuanto la quieres - I can feel how much you want it/love it

Órale - okay, or an exclamation expressing approval or encouragement.

ranita - little frog, but you knew that already ;)

the rest are cognates (or familiar words) which you can probably guess the meaning of, but feel free to message me if you don't know!

422 notes · View notes

ryuryuryuyurboat · 2 months

Text

the way he loves

synopsis: returning home to your husband after a long day

genre: fluff

characters: husband! wriothesley x gn! reader

warnings: established relationship, usage of pet names, kisses, reader is referred to in 2nd person

a/n: hehe this is my submission for @xianyoon’s stupid cupid event! prompt: ribbon | coming home to your lover after a bad day🩷 likes, reblogs and comments highly appreciated!!

masterlist

you face-plant onto the couch, groaning into the cushion as you let yourself sink into its soft comfort. nothing seemed to have gone well for you today. first a nightmare, then stepping on a poor tomato lying on the street, followed by some stranger spilling pepper all over your shoes… what next? would the couch suddenly disappear and make you face-plant straight onto the floor?

next to you, your husband chuckles.

“tough day?”

“very.”

“anything that’ll help? tea? massages?”

“can i have a hug?” your voice comes out muffled.

“no problem, sweetheart.” he spreads his arms, beckoning you into his warm embrace, “you’ve done well.”

wriothesley lets his hands wander as you melt into his touch — his calloused fingers find their places on your shoulders and they begin to knead your fatigue away. strange how those weathered hands, so coarse, were the very same hands that touched you so gently like you were some sort of a rare, precious treasure.

his voice is a low rumble when he asks, “better?”

“mmmhm.” you lean on his chest, eyes closed in relaxed bliss. “it’s just…”

“just?”

you crane your head to look into his eyes. “i still feel sore… why don’t you kiss it better?”

your beloved’s movements pause; his eyes glitter with amusement, his lips pulled into a sly smirk. “how straightforward of you, darling. well– as you wish.”

wriothesley dips his head, allowing his lips to ghost over the nape of your neck, then your shoulder blades, then lightly touching the crown of your head—

you reach up to cup his face in your hand, the feathery sensation of his teasing kisses making your fingers tingle.

“a proper kiss, please.”

“well, mon soleil, you should’ve said so.” he gives a boyish grin in response.

you mock-glare. “honey…”

his chapped lips press against the corner of your mouth, and the rest of your sentence goes unheard. “you were saying?”

he doesn’t give you a chance to react as he gives you yet another peck on your forehead. “you’ve had a long day,” he begins, tilting his head to press another kiss to your cheeks, “i’m proud of you for getting through it.”

wriothesley dips his head once again to meet your lips in a tender kiss — when he pulls away, you’ve all but forgotten the unfortunate events that’d befallen upon you earlier in the day.

“i love you very, very much, and i hope you know that.”

taglist: @lynyluvr @kazemiya @meidnightrain @thexianzhoujade @dailypenpen (send ask to be added to taglist!)

if you liked this, do consider dropping me a follow for more :>

#astronetwrk #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#ying’s stupid cupid ‘24 #wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #༄the vessel’s voyages #scrolls of yore✒️ᝰ

542 notes · View notes

bruisedboys · 5 months

Note

your Peeta fic was EVERYTHING!! So soft and lovely.

Could I request established Peeta x reader where maybe reader somehow gets a concussion and Peeta takes care of her? Obviously only if that sounds interesting to you.

I’ll read whatever you write for him 🫶🏼

thank you my love !! I was really proud of it so I’m very happy you enjoyed it. thank you for your request too! here’s a little something 4 u <3

peeta mellark x fem!reader vaguely in universe but no specifics, can be read as an au or just post-mockingjay

Peeta’s exceedingly gentle as he asses the damage to your head. One hand at your jaw tilting you up towards the light, the other pressed to the side of your head that you didn’t whack on the lip of the bathtub. He angles you this way and that, careful fingers pressing down around the spot you’d bumped.

He presses down on a particularly aching spot and you can’t bite back the whimper it entails. Peeta cringes.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he hushes you softly. “That’s where it hurts the most, yeah?”

You nod. You feel a bit like you might cry. You’re embarrassed at your fall, dizzy and sore, too. “Yeah. S’there a bump?”

“Not a big one.” Peeta finishes his examining and moves down to sit with you on the bathroom floor. He presses a warm, soothing hand to your neck. “Are you still feeling dizzy?”

“A little bit.”

Peeta hums. When you’d first bumped your head you were so dizzy you couldn’t stand. Peeta had called Katniss’ mother on the phone in the living room and she’d diagnosed you with a mild concussion. Normally you’d be worried about it, but Peeta’s been so lovely and patient you’ve got no room for worry, just love. Plus, you’re pretty sure his hands have magic healing powers. You feel better already and it’s only been ten minutes.

“Okay,” he’s saying. “That’s okay, honey. How about I help you get up and we’ll move you to the bed?”

Bed sounds nice. You do your best to smile at your lovely, caring boyfriend. “Yeah, please.”

Peeta slides his hands under your armpits to help you up. You’re already in your pyjamas, which is just pure luck — you’d been getting ready for bed when the accident happened. Peeta had come running the moment he’d heard the thump as you slipped. He’s been worriedly doting on you ever since.

He sits you on the bed and lets you press your heavy head to his abdomen for a few moments. He holds you steady, one hand stroking the hair at the back of your head, steering clear of your bump. You breathe him in, his sweet, woody scent, the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“Sweetheart,” Peeta pulls back, but rather than let you hold your head up on your own, he takes your face in his hands, holding you up himself. “I’m gonna get some ice for your bump, okay? Want to lie down?”

You nod around his warm hands. Peeta helps you lie down on two pillows and then straightens up.

“Do you need anything else, sweet girl?”

You know it’s pathetic, but you’re feeling miserable and needy. You tilt your chin up. “A kiss would be nice.”

Peeta grins. It’s pretty on him, especially when he’s been so worried for you he hasn’t properly smiled since your fall. “One kiss, coming right up.”

He kisses you sweetly, his mouth pressed to yours in a kiss that almost crosses the border of chaste but not quite. You hope he’ll give you more later. If you ask for them, he definitely will. He’s not one to deny you anything you want.

“Thanks,” you say as he pulls away. “For the kiss and for everything else.”

Peeta smiles at you and you know you’re in good hands. The best hands. “You’re welcome, lovely.” He moves away and you miss him already. He must know, because he adds, “I’ll be back really soon, don’t go anywhere, okay?”

You weren’t planning on it.

thank you for reading! please consider reblogging if u enjoyed 🤍

476 notes · View notes

notroosterbradshaw · 3 months

Text

slow dancing in a burning room - eight

word count: 5.6k

warnings: nsfw 18+, language, smut.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

a/n: thanks to those who hung on to this fic. I truly appreciate your effort to show your support start to see a glimmer here (unless I decide angst is more reliable to decide to ruin it all again 🫣) and if you like it… please comment and reblog it! x

masterlist.

“Hi,” you smiled at Rooster perched over a power saw in the last dregs of the afternoon sunlight. Wood chips splashed as he pushed the cutter through the board and he was glistening. You realised he couldn’t hear you so you waited a moment until he finished and tried to greet him again, raising a clammy, nervous palm towards him from where you stood on the front pathway. He turned back and a shy smile crept across his handsome features, carefully waving a dusty hand back.

“Hey, you,” he said, pulling his hearing protection from his ears and tossing them on the grass. Ironic considering what he did for a living would probably guarantee tinnitus but hey, who were you to judge.

“I didn’t want to surprise you.”

He grinned widely, amused. “Yeah, that wouldn’t go down so well, I guess.”

“Probably not,” you agreed.

“Just tryin’ to finish up for the day,” he explained.

Embarrassed, you nodded quickly. “Sure. No problem. Just bringing your shirt back,” you kept the part that you had slept in it to wrap yourself around him one last time before you’d reluctantly washed and pressed it before work to deliver back to him safely to yourself. “I don’t want to bother you.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured, squinting at a particular spot on the board before him and running a gloved palm over it to ensure it was cut to his liking. “Light is getting a bit hazy so probably best I stop for the day anyway, good timing,” he said, kicking a wood end away in his work boots and bending to tidy around him. His strong, muscular legs supported him, golden biceps rippling with sweat, maybe they were a little pink on his shoulders and suddenly he was before you.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, your brain screamed. He was so close and so handsome and so making your head swim. How did you manage before?

Oh, right, you recalled. He always made you feel like this.

You blinked to centre and distract yourself from his brawny shoulder, taking in the home he had worked so dutifully on since you had been apart behind him - you never let yourself take it in on previous trips before but it looked so wonderful and you were so proud of him and you just wanted to tell him. But his lopsided grin nabbed your gaze again and he chuckled, low. “Not bad, huh?” He knew.

“House looks good,” you said as he grinned, the pride evident as he peered back over his shoulder, taking in his work, the exterior’s painting only recently finished. You couldn’t deny it made you feel glum that you weren’t sharing this monumental task together. He had put his enforced time off to very, very good use.

“Thank you, puttin’ a lot a’ time and energy into it,” he admitted. “Learnin’ a lot. Thought I only knew how to fly jet planes quick, but it turns out I’m pretty good with a sledgehammer too.”

You giggled quietly. “I’d believe that, actually,” and you saw the apples of his cheek flush. He’d blame the afternoon heat… or something.

“What are you building here?” Your curiosity got the best of you and you really didn’t have any right to ask, but the whole Notebook fantasy was ringing clear in your ears and it was almost painful to see him working so hard with his hands.

“Veggie patch,” and he waited patiently for your reaction.

Of course he fucking was. It was the one thing you’d spent hours talking about together. What was seasonal, and what was useful. What you both enjoyed. And here he was slaving over it because he still wanted it in his future. Little did you know, he’d build you whatever you fucking well wanted, he wanted to say if it gave you the slightest thought of coming home to him.

“I’ll probably kill everything upon planting,” he joked. “I know I’ll have a black thumb.”

“It’ll be gorgeous,” you promised him softly.

“Can only give it a try,” he shrugged. “Just finish work?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Can’t wait to shower. Got the approved designs for the extension, so that’s pretty exciting. It’s so much bigger than I expected.”

“Amazing. Glad you're doing it,” he smiled. He was taking your breath away. You were so heady on him, it was making your knees buckle, and unlike all the times before, you didn’t have his sturdy, strong palms on your hips to keep you upright.

But you threw all this away. This was the actual lowest you could feel, the pit of your life, seeing him so relaxed, happy, calm. At peace. It made you feel just miserable.

“Yeah, me too. I’ve got a business manager now, so - ”

“Business manager? Fancy.”

You wanted to hide your face, he was so teasing and so handsome and so -

“You’re free of the paperwork you hate,” he beamed.

“Yes,” you admitted, bashfully. “It’s so strange someone else is doing it and they can oversee the building contracts and whatnot. I’m not that person anymore.” You weren’t good at relinquishing control and this was so far out of your comfort zone to do so.

“Awesome.”

“Yeah, numbers will never be my thing.”

But Bradley was great with numbers. He needed to calculate and have a basic understanding of geometry, but it all came so naturally to him, he didn’t have to apply himself. He had worked so hard as a kid to make sure he understood that kind of thing - he had always known this would be his life. And even with Mav holding him back… he had never forgotten what he needed to get there, only making him more determined.

“Here,” you handed him his shirt and he showed you his grubby hands. “Right,” you said bashfully, looping it over his head and around his neck, the mix of his cologne and sweat thick in the air. “There ya go.”

He would never admit it, but he knew your perfume anywhere. He could smell the slightest aroma lingering on his shirt and suddenly didn’t want to wash it ever again. “Come in for a beer,” he offered.

You made a face. “A beer,” you snickered. It was like he didn’t know you. But he knew you. He knew exactly how to bait you.

“Not the way to your heart?” he snivelled back and your heart raced because it wasn’t the way to your heart, but his gentle tease helped a lot. When you didn’t reply, he quickly added, “Pretty sure I got a good reserve bourbon inside. Just in case unexpected guests pop over,” he lied magnificently. The smugness of him made you tingle in all the places it shouldn’t have and if you watched him for one more second -

“No, I shouldn’t,” you tried but, in your mind, you were already sitting on the bench, sipping your drink, imagining what it could be. Those evenings you’d sit together and unwind, you chatted absent-mindedly while he cooked and piped up as required. And when he just couldn’t take it anymore he would step between your thighs, massage your enticing skin and kiss you deeply. His velvet tongue would caress yours, and he’d remind you of all the ways he loved you while dinner was forgotten about -

“Why not? Hot date?” Rooster hated himself for even joking about it.

You forced a laugh. “Uhh, no. Just tired. Long days.” And if I walk in, I won’t want to walk out.

He nodded, seeing right through you. “Come in for a drink anyway. I’m sure you can have a quick one,” he headed towards the house and you had to admit, you were kind of keen to go inside and see what he’d done to the place. When you’d ended things, all that was in the house was his bed and boxes from his villa in Virginia Beach.

You hummed as he started on the steps and nodded towards the door. He could ask you to take a walk off a short pier and you’d do it gladly as you pretended to be put out and eventually smiled, following him. “Just one,” you told him, meandering past him and he held open the door.

“Of course,” he said. “Just one,” he bit back his grin as you passed him, he’d be lying to say he wasn’t checking out your beautiful ass in those delightful leggings. He pushed his sunnies into his uncontrollable curls, which were a little shorter than normal after he had them trimmed earlier. You knew that well enough, but he still let the curls grow as long as he was allowed. He smirked as you poked your head into the bathroom, giggling quietly to yourself.

“Really are loving that mallet, huh?” you asked, plaster, tile and ceramics littering the floor.

“Done wonders for my recovery,” he murmured. “It’s been fantastic. Want a turn?”

“There aren’t enough tiles in the world,” you muttered to yourself. Bradley snorted and nodded.

“I’ll bet,” he said as you carefully followed him down the hallway to the living area. “Make yourself comfy,” he said as he wandered into the kitchen, the kitchen you wanted to demolish. He had yet to touch it, you noted. “Pick your poison?” he wriggled his eyebrows as he peeled off his aviators and tossed them on the bench with his phone.

Resistance was futile as you pulled yourself up onto the bench too, while his eyes never left you. It was where you had always sat. He chuckled low, going to the makeshift liquor cabinet and pulling out two tumblers, before moving to the freezer for the ice, tossing a few blocks in, the tinkle so inviting as you popped up on the bench. He poured your drink and turned back to face you.

“Comfy?” And it wasn’t internally a hidden double-meaning, but it was and you swallowed. Bradley would be lying to say that taking those few steps, pushing your thighs wide and making himself comfy between them didn’t invade his senses. And you’d be lying to say… you didn’t want him to think just that because you were so desperate for him he could just let it happen - he couldn’t just entice you inside without trying just a little. Putting just a little work in at least.

Sweaty, hard body on display, unruly curls, that beard that was just… doing the wildest things to your thoughts. He retrieved ice for you and approached, holding out the tumbler. “Cheers, lo – cheers,” he repeated again, stopping himself from that name he swore he’d never say again… but slipped into so easily.

You raised your glass, pretending not to catch it. “Cheers, Rooster.”

God, he hated when you called him that. He was your Bradley.

You both took deserving gulps but neither could drop your gaze. You could see what you lost right here in front of you. Your man… this house, your life together. He was moving on without you and all he saw was where you should be every evening while you both discussed your days before the desire would ultimately take over and you hold each other, kiss, touch. That true intimacy you’d never felt with anyone else.

“So, what are you going to do here?” you dared ask as he gave a slight shrug.

“I dunno – kind of waiting for inspiration to take over, I suppose. Gut the cooker, and stovetop kind of sucks. Change the backsplash.”

“The backsplash is the only redeeming thing here,” you admitted, a hint of snark, or maybe tease, in your voice.

“Oh yeah?” his lip quirked, clearly picking up on it, as he eased back against the bench opposite you. He knew you were desperate to discuss your thoughts for the space, and he would give it to you because he really was interested in what you thought. He took a sip of his drink and didn’t dare look away from you.

“Subway tiles never go out of style, but the colour is bold for such a chilled place. Get someone to paint them white, it’ll be beautiful. It’ll also look bigger.”

“You know a bit about this stuff?”

“Not really. I just know what I like. Obviously, it’s your kitchen, so you gotta do what suits you,” you added quickly, taking a needy sip. Why was he making you nervous?! This man had seen you naked countless times and knew every part of you so incredibly intimately. He licked his lips, with a slow nod.

“What else, love?” he said quietly, but didn’t apologise when your term of endearment slipped out this time.

“I have some interior design magazines at home if you want some inspiration,” you offered pathetically. You knew as well as him that he was not interested in interiors and how dumb you sounded.

“I love that it's your porn,” he said with a gentle goad, and you resisted with every fibre of your being to correct him. That it was him that was your complete fantasy, and he was so close, and he looked so damn delicious. Wild, free. Sinister in how sexy he was. If it was a dream, you didn’t want to wake up. “How’s that drink?”

“It’s good,” you admitted. It wasn’t something you’d drink if it wasn’t with him – he’d taught you how to appreciate it after all. And if you weren’t clever, you’d know it was all a ruse to try and recall those things you did when you were together. He was no dummy either.

He adjusted his posture to lean over the bench, right near you. Long and lean, he cast such a frame as his muscles flexed and released so close to you.

“What have I missed the last few months?” he asked softly.

"What do you mean?" you asked, dumb to the question.

"What else has been happening?"

"Aside from work."

He hummed. "You know that's not what I mean."

Heart thrumming in your chest, you knew exactly what he meant. "Nothing," and it wasn't a lie. The only thing that changed was him in your life.

“I’ve missed talking to you," he confided.

Swallowing thickly, you found yourself getting flustered.

“Get me now?” he breathed, standing again to his full height (you missed how big he was and how teeny he could make you feel), fidgeting but closer again, almost before you, his eyes at his feet meekly.

“Yes,” you answered meekly.

He exhaled, he was tense too and as he gazed up and caught your eyes, he murmured, “I missed you every minute of every day,” he confided. “I never thought we would be in the same room again… well, without other people.”

“Me neither,” you agreed and somehow, you still felt like it was a very bad idea as his body leaned in and the thick base of the tumbler hit the benchtop. You were drunk on him, and you wanted to touch and taste him so much it almost hurt. You knew you were shaking as you adjusted your posture to sit up and he pushed that step closer, his thick thighs were grazing against yours now. If he took one more step, it would be improper.

…but how you wanted the improper!

“You’re very close,” you told him, a warning to both of you.

“Do you want me to step back?” his nose almost touched yours as you weakly shook your head.

“No.”

“No…”

“The opposite.”

As instructed, he took that step closer, pressing his waist between your wide thighs, tummies almost pressed together. It was like there was only one more thing to do. “Just kiss me,” he begged. “Don’t think about anything else, just let yourself feel good.”

It was hard to argue with him, he was always incredibly good at making his points when your head was swirling. He laughed gently as your head started to spin. He finally made that move and he grasped the meat of your quads, dragging you to him, core pressed against his abs now and relief almost swept over you because you needed him. He was the only one that could make you feel this way. No one else could compare. He could make you feel and do things you’d only fantasised about - not even your toys could bring you the pleasure he was able.

He had you right where he wanted you and you were at a loss to figure out how to fight it.

“This isn’t a good idea. We worked so hard to get back to this place,” you said, your hands pressed deeply on his waist of their own volition. Your heart was making the decisions now and your head had absolutely no say.

Your fingers itched, threatening to glide forward and find the drawstring to release his boardies. He was so hard there was no denying it, but you were so wet and frenetic for his cock. You knew how well you fit together. And you would be lying to say that you hadn’t thought on more than one occasion what if we could just have one more night?

“I know, just when I thought we could become friends again...” Rooster agreed. Still, his fingers were already pulling at the hem of your shirt, dragging it from the band of your leggings and his eyes begging, pleading for you to say a quick yes instead of a …slow …painful no.

To raise your arms willingly and let him undress you and recreate all the positions he'd been so busy fantasising about before this all went apeshit. “Say no and I’ll respect it. I won’t like it, but I’ll walk away.”

“But I want this,” you told him. “I need you.”

“Yeah?” He needed reassurance. And you needed it too.

“Yes, Bradley.”

“That’s all I need to hear,” he told you, his knuckles grazing your hips as he bunched your shirt into his hands. He was clinging so tightly to the linen that it threatened to rip under the pressure of his grip.

“Rooster?”

“Stop calling me that,” he begged, a light frustration etched in his deep rasp. “My friends call me that.”

“I’m not your friend?” It wasn’t the time to tease, but how could you not?

“No, you know you’re not my friend. Not anymore, you’re not,” he was stern, and commanding and it hurt a little to hear that he didn’t feel you were friends anymore. Mere acquaintances maybe.

“Who am I then?”

His stare was so intense, it was hard to resist giving in at first. His perfect, full lips were desperate to be kissed. “You’re my Love," he said so softly.

“Bradley…” you almost crooned. The way he almost always knew what to say…

He hummed a reply, licking his lips and taking the initiative to raise your shirt a little more. That small peak of skin on your tummy was his undoing, and he could only imagine his tongue swirling around your belly button as you writhed under him. “Tell me to stop, and I swear, I will,” he said again as your hands drifted up his body, your warm palms cupping his fuzzy chin and capturing your gaze.

He needed the words.

You pulled his lips to yours, kissing him long and deep, your fingers tickling the nape of his neck, the soft tendrils different under your touch. Your slick tongue snuck into his mouth, dancing sinfully with his. He pulled you against him roughly, he wasn’t going to let you go. “Fuck me, Bradley,” you said, breathless and he hiked you up into his strong arms.

“I’m gonna make you cum all night, sweet girl,” he said, and you melted, missing your little nickname from him. “Let me fuck you until you beg me to stop,” he started to guide you to the master suite, the room that you and he were meant to share before you both went and blew it all up.

Was this his chance to get back everything he wanted? If it was, he was going to make you drunk on him, prove to you how fucking good you were together, how good you made the other feel, and how fucking good you were at this.

Tonight, Bradley Bradshaw was going to claim you like he always should have.

He carried you to the master bedroom. The last time you saw it, it was bare aside from the moving boxes that had already been delivered. Now it was properly lived in. He wasn’t surprised when you pulled away to stand and take in the room – still magnificent as the sun set over the Pacific Ocean before you. You’d had such dreams for this room.

He watched you kick off your sneakers and slowly push down your leggings from your soft hips, and he licked his lips because he wanted to taste every millimetre of skin on your beautiful body. “You’re staring,” you told him.

His cheeks flushed. “I know, I want to be sorry, but your body…”

You got to the ankle and used your other foot to remove the offending garment, leaving them in a pool at your feet. You unbuttoned the first few notches on your linen shirt before pulling it over your head and adding that to the growing pile.

“Did you plan this?” Rooster asked, taking in the sweet, but oh-so-sexy lingerie set, not complicated but cute enough to have him salivating. You shook your head. And of course, you hadn’t. An hour ago, you were begging he wouldn’t be home, and you could have dropped that goddamn shirt off without incident.

“No,” you admitted, motioning for him to approach you. And you hadn’t but it was a sinful happenstance. “I only came to drop back your shirt… I was kind of hoping you weren’t here.”

“Why?”

“Because we would have avoided this."

He chewed back his smirk and replied, “Oh. I see.”

You couldn’t stop him if he tried, already so hard in his basketball shorts and tank top. He carefully palmed himself to relieve some pressure as you raised his top over his head and dragged your fingers from his clavicle to his Adonis belt. He felt like he was quaking. You moved his hand and massaged his cock through the fabric as he gave a shaky gasp.

“That’s good,” he muttered, his hips stuttering. “You know exactly what I like, love,” he murmured, his lips kissing from your shoulder to your jaw, latching onto your pulse point, which was beating rapidly under his tongue. He felt you loosen the waist of his shorts and slip them over his hips, not at all surprised he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Already hard, heavy and aching, you pulled him towards you, your soft hand lightly pumping him, his impressive cock twitching in your hands. “Feels good…” He sucked in a breath as your thumb ran over his silky head, already leaking in his excitement and slippery to the touch.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, real fuckin’ good.” His eyes fluttered closed and his forehead rested on your hair as he allowed himself to just feel your sweet touch.

“What do you want, Bradley?” you asked, releasing him to remove your bralette over your head and he licked his bottom lip, dragging it into his glistening teeth. Every curve of your body was just perfection in his honey-coloured gaze.

“More,” he admitted. “...everything.”

“Okay.”

“To kiss you again,” he said, climbing onto the bed, reaching his palm for yours. You gladly accepted and he pulled you tenderly to him, his large hand cupping your jaw and drawing your mouth to his. His kiss was better than you remembered, especially with the softness of his beard against your skin. You were so used to the tickle of his top lip. You reached your fingers into his longer locks and gently tugged on the unruly curls. “I love your hair longer,” you confided. You pressed your chest against his.

He laughed quietly. “Can't get shorter now.” …before I leave tomorrow, he added silently.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love your curls, but your hair is so sexy like this. And your beard…” you giggled quietly. “It’s like I’m with another person,” you whispered.

Bradley resisted his wide grin. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

You eagerly kissed him again as he pushed his body weight over and eased you onto your back, instinctually opening your thighs to him as he eagerly kissed up your body, stopping at your hips to loop his long fingers into your undies and slowly bring them down your legs. “So wet, just drippin’ for me, love…” his dark eyes stayed on you keenly and his tongue slid around your nipple sucking it into his warm mouth as he continued his ministrations.

“Oh, Bradley,” you breathed, lacing your fingers into his wild curls, hoping to keep him there. “You know my body so well.”

He grinned into your skin. “Know it better than my own,” he admitted with a huff of laughter. He brought his lips to yours, adjusting his weight on you and you forgot how much you missed his bulk. He felt so good, so strong and your body was weeping for his. His large palm traced down your tummy, playing with the small amount of hair on your pussy and his touch was like electricity. You guided his hands to where you wanted them most, his divine lips still kissing your tits, but his beautiful fingers sliding between your vulva, spreading the slick that seeped from you. He delicately opened your thighs and started to play with you. One finger, then a second as his thumb gently circled your eager clit. And as good as he felt, you wanted more. You wanted to be filled by him, cum on that beautiful cock and milk him until he was dry.

But he knew you and as he adjusted his posture to rest his dick at your entrance, he lightly pushed the head in, not making another move, only to look up and kiss you.

You groaned into his mouth as he slid in, delightfully slow until he hit the hilt. For the first time in months, you finally felt complete. Like this was exactly what you were missing.

Connection, desire, a willingness to simply be everything he needed you to be. Just like he always was with you. Even at your worst, he was so devout to you, and it still wasn’t enough for you. Well, this time, you were going to be everything he needed and more. And it started tonight.

Waking up in Rooster’s arms later that night made you feel more alive than you had in months. He was slowly kissing up your bicep to your shoulder. The feel of his beard was different and wonderful all at the same time. “Hi,” you mumbled, still in a sleepy bliss from his caress.

“Hi,” he grumbled back. “I’m not sorry I’ve woken you.”

You grinned to yourself. He never was. “It’s okay,” you admitted. “Are you okay? What time is it?”

He sighed. “Dunno. Maybe one?” His lips brushed past your collarbone to your pulse point, which was already racing as your fingers got lost in his long, unruly bedhead. “I missed this. You don’t know how much.”

You couldn’t lie to him and tell him you didn’t feel the same. “Me too.”

“I should probably go, Bradley,” you told him, softly and maybe a little sadly. “You have to leave in a few hours.”

“Can you stay?” His palms ran across your breasts, caressing and tenderly groping them, while his pointer finger circled your pained nipple, peaked and desperate for attention in his strong palm. He was playing so fucking dirty. “Just a little longer. I swear I’ll make it worth your while,” he pleaded before going in for the kill and his gleaming teeth bit into the tender, sensitive flesh, flashing a jolt through your entire system. “Don’t make me beg.”

But you knew you had to go.

It was so strange waking up with him… Was there a phrase for comfort fucking with your ex except for falling back into bad habits? You didn’t have clothes, toiletries, hell, you would be doing the walk of shame back at this point. “I dunno,” you admitted. “I should go…”

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised that you were so eagerly rejecting him. “Yeah, gotcha,” his hands slowly released you and he rolled to his back, chewing his tongue. He certainly wasn’t annoyed, but like you, certainly confused by the last eight hours. But he was encouraged as he saw you process from your pillow and if he played his cards right, he knew you were in two minds, and it mostly would lead to staying if he just pressed a little harder. “Then let me hold you a while longer at least?”

You said nothing but moved to sit on his quads, a perplexed eyebrow raised on his handsome features, surprise etched on his face. “Ask me to stay one more time,” you begged softly, leaning down to kiss him, his strong arms fastening you in place and not willing to release you. You left his lips and contemplated him as you continued trailing kisses across his jaw, your tongue tracing his pulse point and your teeth tenderly pressing into this soft flesh.

“Fuckin’ hell, stay forever,” he whined. “Baby, what are you doing to me? You make me fuckin’ weak.”

And to be frank, you didn’t know, but the need to have him close and make you cum was all your brain could comprehend. Your hands gripped his side, nails raking into the flesh of his hips, and he hissed, his eyes glued to yours as your warm tongue slid down the thick, well-nurtured muscles of his stomach and abdominals.

“That is good, love,” he said, lacing his fingers into your hair, giving it a gentle tug as you moaned, eyes fluttering closed. You enjoyed having your hair pulled, the way he tugged his fingertips into your scalp, encouraging, massaging. He kept his gaze on you, idly praying for a cheeky, messy blowjob, but your lips on his body were really all he needed. Your soft palm gently grasped between his legs, handling his tight balls tenderly, massaging. Oh, the obscene sounds he made as his hips writhed. “Please pretty baby, suck me off. I need your mouth,” he pleaded. “You give the best head…”

You gave him a small shy smile. You loved to perform for him, but after all this time, and in every position the karma sutra could throw at you, blowing him still made you nervous.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart. Just put that tongue to use, that beautiful warm mouth.” Needing the friction, he started to jerk himself. You loved watching him touch himself. Big hands wrapped around his obscenely long, throbbing cock. He was already leaking at the prospect of cumming down the back of your throat in hot, thick white ribbons. “That’s my sweet girl,” he whined as you bared your tongue and tenderly traced it against the vein underneath. Devouring a slippery stripe, you took his salty head in your mouth and watched his eyes darken, his face contorting as his head fell back among the pillows. “Fuck …” he muttered, his tone breathy and overcome. “God, I missed this.” He laced his long fingers into your hair and massaged your scalp as you gazed up at him, swirling your tongue just the way he liked. He was desperate to watch you, but his head fell back to the pillows and his torso rolled, thoroughly ruined under your touch.

You massaged his strong sides as he let go of your hair and found your hands, linking your fingers. Encouraged, you took him a little further back as he gripped your hands, not letting you go.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” he said softly as you swallowed around him, and he groaned roughly. “If it was an Olympic sport…” he muttered as he put a little more force into the roll of his hips. “I could die a happy man, baby. But I need to cum, I’m sorry I can’t hold on, love,” he gasped. “You just feel so sweet. Gonna paint the back of that pretty mouth…” he strained as you pushed yourself onto your knees and only went harder and faster, dragging his orgasm out and he was coming roughly, hips thrusting into your face, taking you as deep as you could and your nose grazed the smattering of hair of his happy trail, and you tasted him salty in your tongue and as promised, spurting into the back of your throat, a filthy moan escaping his lips as he came… and came. “Fuck. Oh, baby…” he was panting now, trying greatly to catch his breath, tidying up your workspace. He reached for you, pulling you towards him and you crept up his body, sinking into his desperate arms. He wrapped you up tightly and kissed your lips tenderly.

Those words on his lips, he was so desperate to say them. But not as desperate as you…

“I have to go,” Bradley said softly a few hours later. “There is coffee in the pot. Please stay, please go back to sleep.” He gently smoothed your hair from your forehead and watched you wake slowly.

“That’s okay.” You tried to push yourself up.

“Love, it’s okay. Stay. You don’t need to rush anywhere. Just lock the front door when you leave, okay?” He lowered his lips to your eyebrow and said he’d see you in a few months. “I’m so glad you came over yesterday, I just wish I wasn’t leaving you now,” he confessed.

“Stay safe, Bradley,” was all you could bring yourself to say because you felt if you said anymore, the word vomit would continue and you’d ruin everything.

“Always, love,” he promised, pushing himself to his feet and he was so beautiful in his working uniform.

“The blueberry is so unfair,” you teased, stretching and snuggling back into his pillow, feeling the kinks and gentle sting of a body well worked over. He rolled his eyes in the dim room and gave a gentle wave. You heard his heavy boots head down the hallways, a light pause and the front door closing quietly. He was gone.

And once again, you were a goner. If that was your last night with Bradley Bradshaw, you received the closure you deserved.

Big thanks as always to @gretagerwigsmuse for helping me get this fic over this line when this chapter really needed it! You have seen this chapter for months in various forms and I'm so glad you could help me get it over the line x

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

Taglist (got some fails here, sorry team) x

@yuckosworld @dizzybee03 @sometimesanalice @crustyhoneybadger @mistresssolana @bowchickawowowww @daughter-of-aphrodite @gigisimsonmars @its-the-pilot @evaki498 @shanimallina87 @keep-on-burnin @saturniensblog @ryebecca @b-bradshaw @hannah-grac3 @eclecticfashionbookszipper @eli2447 @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @margaritaparty1965 @nightowlgirlsworld @sarcasm-n-insomnia @factualfic @fanficfandomlove @perseephony @mini-bee-bee @theluxekween @sio-ina-bottle @luckyladycreator2 @timetravelingheart @nouis-bum @lostinwildflowers @stickyvoidlawyerhairdo @thelonelyumbrella @wanderingdetectives @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @atarmychick007 @perfectprettypisces @babycallmyname @nero4te @faithxyu @bloatedandalone04 @na-ta-sh-aa @anon8502 @lewmagoo

198 notes · View notes

miyseung · 7 days

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒��𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

summary: Sunghoon has never felt any spark in his heart, none of that silly love he’s read about in novels in his free time. No one interested him, and it wasn’t like his father, the king, would let him have friends, male or female, for fear of being betrayed or developing feelings for them. He lived a life of isolation, excited for nothing – neither the idea of being married to a pretty princess nor becoming the next ruler of the Park kingdom. He most certainly did not expect you, his new guard, to change all that. He did not expect you to brighten his days and light up his heart.

includes: death, murder, war/battle, attempted murder (kinda), breaking in, royal au, romanticized medieval setting of sorts, forced marriage/proposal, a lot of time skips so it moves somewhat quickly, brief mention of a toxic ex, death by illness, joking mention of jumping off a balcony, blood, wounds, denial of death kinda, graves, lmk if i missed anything!

genre: angst

pairing: prince! sunghoon x guard! fem! reader

word count: 8.1k (woah)

taglist: @kflixnet @kpopslays @jvjsssnaa a/n: it’s finally here! i sacrificed sleep for this and i do not regret it at all. this fic has two milestones for me - being my longest fic + a fic i’m kinda proud of. i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it <3

PLEASE REBLOG/COMMENT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC 🫶

Sunghoon was reading over some papers pertaining to the kingdom’s matters when he heard a knock on the door.

“Enter.”

One of the guards came in, before bowing upon seeing him.

“Sire, his Majesty wishes to see you.”

He nodded and set the papers in a neat stack. He then put them in a drawer and locked it for security. He then stood up and followed the guard, maintaining a neutral expression.

His mind was working much faster than normal though.

His father was very strict, and the slightest mistake meant an extremely harsh lecture. He flicked through his memories, trying to remember what he could have done wrong, and what he should say as his apology.

He pursed his lips as a thought crossed his mind - was his recent trip to the colder regions made known to his father? He had gone for administrative work, but he couldn’t resist spending some time there ice skating, which the king always considered useless since it benefited only the person skating, not the country. He had done his best to keep it under wraps, but maybe one of the guards reported this to the king. Damn it.

He mentally slapped himself for using such crude language. Those were the words of peasants and did not suit a prince like him. Holy moly…buckling barnacles, great heavens…such lengthy words to express frustration, he thought. ‘Damn it’ was only two syllables.

As he snapped out of his reverie, he entered the Throne Room. His father was seated on the grand throne at the end of the airy space. The seats where the ministers sat were empty. Court was always in the morning, and it was probably lunchtime by now - the prince wasn’t sure.

He stood a few feet away from his father. The guard bowed and left, and Sunghoon made eye contact with the old man in front of him. He didn’t seem angry, so the younger relaxed a bit, letting out a sigh.

“Why have you called me here, father?”

“I’ve received some proposals from other kings. They’ve sent me paintings of their daughters. A lovely selection of princesses, I must say.”

Sunghoon had to physically hold himself back from rolling his eyes.

“Father, I’ve already told you this. I am not ready for marriage and I am not interested in this topic.”

“Yes, but it’s good to start early. Maybe you’ll change your mind after-”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Father, but why have you actually summoned me?”

The king narrowed his eyes at his son but didn’t say anything more about the topic.

“Well, I’ve decided to get you a personal guard. There have been many threats of attacks on the palace, so it’s better to take this precaution.”

“Interesting. Will he be with me all the time or-”

“She.”

“What?”

“Your guard is a female.”

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. His father? Hiring a woman? As his bodyguard? What if he-

“Are you serious?” “Yes. She is very capable and I’m sure she will protect and serve you well. I trust you to keep your relationship with her strictly professional.”

It wasn’t like he knew how to have a non-professional relationship with anyone outside of his family anyway.

“Yes, Father. Will she be with me at all times?”

“Indeed she will, except for when you are sleeping. At that time, she will stand outside your door and guard you.” “What about her food and sleep?”

“That is not your concern.”

“But-”

“Silence!”

He immediately bowed his head slightly as a sign of remorse for stepping out of line. This was going to be interesting, he thought. He had little to no interaction with women outside of his mother and sister, and the small talk he made with princesses and duchesses of other kingdoms was always awkward. Now he was having someone of the opposite gender, a woman, watching over him nearly 24/7.

He slowed down his train of thought. Why was he thinking like a teenage boy ogling over a girl? He was the crown prince, he was better than that. It was going to be a new experience, that was all.

“May I meet her now?”

“Of course. She’s arriving as we speak.”

Just then, the door opened, and you entered, a male soldier on either side. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, but nothing came out of it.

He was having a cultural shock of sorts. All the women he had met were all dainty, graceful and poised - the epitome of perfection. You, on the other hand, had an air of authority about you — rough and firm. A few scars were on your face, probably from battle. You bowed the full 90 degrees, and he could only respond with a small nod.

Oh fuck, you were gorgeous.

And he used foul language again. Stupid Sunghoon, he reprimanded himself.

He didn’t take back what he said, however. Your beauty wasn’t the type written in books or sung in ballads, but it had to be known to the world, somehow. He was almost tempted to write one himself.

Hold on, why was he thinking all this? His father had just told him to not think anything about you that crossed the lines of professional, and thinking about how pretty you were was not within those lines.

“This is your new personal guard, Y/N.”

You came over to him and bowed again, although at a smaller angle than before.

“N…Nice to meet you, Y-Y/N.”

Did he just stutter?!

“It is an honor, my prince. I swear to serve you to the best of my abilities.”

“I’m sure you will.”

He managed a small, formal smile, looking completely pleasant and unfazed.

Which he very much was not. He wanted to jump off the nearest balcony when you said ‘my prince’. He didn’t know why - you weren’t the only one who addressed him in that manner. You might’ve even learned it from someone in the palace, so why was he so hot and bothered with the way you said it?

“Your duties start today, guard.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I will not let you down.”

He was going crazy. You were just his new guard. Nothing less, nothing more. He would just have to rein in his thoughts and get it all together. Not a difficult task at all.

As you stood behind him as he walked through the kingdom’s streets a week later, he seemed to keep a little distance from you, which was unsafe. Anything could happen within a few meters.

“My prince, you must slow your pace.”

He turned his face to look at you as he stopped walking.

“Oh? Why is that?”

“There’s a gap between us, and anyone could attack you with that.”

“Ah. I see. In that case…you can walk next to me. Or something.”

You stood next to him now. He quickly looked at the fruits a vendor was selling, trying his best to avert his gaze so that you wouldn’t see his reddening cheeks. It was unknown to him as to why he was so flustered. You were only doing your job, and that was it.

“Our kingdom seems to produce good crops.”

“Indeed they do, my prince. The farmer and the cultivators work very hard. It always seems to go unnoticed for some damn reason, though.”

He heard the angry tone in your voice and the curse word you said. This seemed to be a sore topic for you. He was curious, so he decided to ask more.

“What do you suggest, then?”

“We export more crops so that they get more revenue and in turn, they get paid as well. Increase the demand.”

You shrugged before turning your attention to a little kid who was clinging to your leg. You leaned down and patted his head, smiling a bit. The kid laughed and ran away. Sunghoon watched this interaction with interest and it dawned upon him that you cared about the people and their welfare, like a good ruler.

Wait, why was he thinking about you being a ruler? You were only a soldier, and with the hierarchy now, there wasn’t much chance you could become more.

It did make him wonder, however, what you would do if the people rebelled. He shook his head, not wanting to think so dark. Your suggestion was smart, though. It made more sense the more he pondered over it. He’d mention this to the old man and see what he’d say.

“Shall we move on, guard?”

You stood up properly before nodding.

“Yes, my prince. Apologies for slowing you down.”

He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.

“Nothing of the sort. Come, let’s go.”

You both continued your stroll and for some reason, his heart was beating very unnaturally. He only had this issue when he was agitated, but there was no reason for him to be scared now, so why was this happening?

It had only been two months since you became his personal guard, yet you were his closest and most trusted friend. He took all your ideas seriously and told them to the king who somehow accepted them, and called him ‘ingenious’ for supposedly coming up with them. He hated taking false credit, but he knew that he couldn’t tell his father that you were the mastermind of them all — he would then question Sunghoon as to why he was talking to them in the first place, which would lead to you being removed from your post and replaced with a boring male soldier.

He didn’t want to lose you, not when he finally found a change in his monotonous life, someone to brighten his dull days, someone to call a friend, even though it was only known to the both of you and no one else. He couldn’t bear to have you gone.

He was sitting underneath a tree, looking up at the sky in the comfort of the gardens reserved for his family and visitors alone. His father never came here out of his own accord - he always considered it a waste of time. His mother was in her room, and her sister was in another kingdom discussing alliances. This was a moment very rare, just you and him, with no one to interrupt or catch you two slacking.

You were sitting next to him, only a few inches away. The wind was blowing gently on his face. He closed his eyes and smiled, inhaling and exhaling deeply. Your presence next to him was oddly comforting. He opened his eyes again, turned his head, and looked at you, wanting to ask you something.

“Guard, you know how I always give your suggestions to the king and how he always says ‘I’ did a good job thinking about them?”

Your face tightened the same way it did every time he took credit for your ideas in front of his father. He sighed.

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, I wanted to apologize for that.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly not understanding two things - why he was suddenly saying sorry, and how you doing that simple thing made him go insane. You took over him, body and soul. All he could think of when he tried to sleep was you. It was just two months. Two months, and he was already attached to you. He was convinced, however, that it wasn’t love or anything stupid like that. No, it was simply him forming a close connection to the first person who cared about him. Not everything was romantic affection. He had never tasted this emotion, obviously, but he’d say that he knew enough about it to confirm this wasn’t it.

“Why now, my prince? I’m sorry- I just didn’t expect you to, y’know…actually apologize. Never met a royal who’s done so. They’re all usually stuck-up snobs who think their shit is worth the entire kingdom.”

He snorted at that. It wasn’t like you were wrong, most of the royals he met were indeed very arrogant. He didn’t dare anything about it though, simply doing his best to not behave like them.

“It’s not right of me to take credit for something I don’t even have the brain for. I don’t mention your name for your security. If my father knew I was talking to you about matters like these, then…”

He made a motion of him cutting his own throat, complete with the sound effect. You grinned a bit, which was enough for him to be over the moon, but then you laughed. Not just a ‘teehee’ or a ‘haha’ - an actual, proper laugh. His heart swelled, maybe his jokes didn’t suck that much. Your laugh was indescribable. It was a delightful sound to listen to. It was short, but he wanted to hear it every day at least once for the rest of his life instead of those ballads that were sung in the court all the time.

The way your eyes formed crescents, the way your face was half in the light and half in the shadow, the way the wind put an orange leaf in your hair like it was an accessory - it was making him sick in a good way. He rarely saw you smile, let alone laugh like this. He knew that you had to keep your expression serious all the time - all the soldiers had that training - and this was a proud moment for him to see you loosen up. He couldn’t help the small smile on his own face.

“My prince, is he really that harsh? I’m aware that he is super damn strict to us soldiers, but that’s expected since we have to be toughened up to protect the land.”

His smile faded before he shook his head in agreement.

“I’d say so. It’s for my good- I am the next in line, after all.”

“I don’t think forcing your child to have no friends is how you raise him to be king. He won’t know how to have proper social interactions.”

There you were again, hitting the mark accurately with your observation. He sucked at interacting with other people. Slowly, he was starting to dislike his father more. The faults he never saw in him earlier were becoming visible, the saint-like image he had of the king since childhood fading away. Was this meant to happen? He wasn’t sure.

“Right. I’m living proof.”

You shook your head in alarm.

“Oh shit- please don’t be offended by my idiotic statement, my prince…I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, really-”

He chuckled at how you were panicking and made a motion with his hand for you to calm down.

“It’s okay. I didn’t take it that way.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He saw your body relax as he rested his head against the bark of the tree again. He gazed at the sky, eyes fixated on the clouds and the way they moved in the direction of the breeze. Two questions lingered in his mind, and his mouth suddenly blurted one out.

“Do you ever sleep?”

It was random, sure, but he had to know. He was concerned for you. He never saw you leave his side, except for when he was asleep, and he already knew what you did then. You were still staring at him, but he didn’t notice.

“I do. I’m a normal person, my prince, I can’t function without food and rest. That’s impossible.”

“When?”

You let out a slight laugh at his curiosity, and his heart started pounding faster again.

“You don’t notice, do you? That means I’m performing the stealth part of my job well. When you’re in the dining room or a meeting surrounded by the best soldiers. That’s when. I also don’t stand watch for you every night. I alternate with another guard.”

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape in understanding. He didn’t notice it at all, which meant that either you were a master of stealth, as you said, or he was just blind. It was most likely the former since he had no doubt in your abilities.

“I see. I was very worried for you, honestly.”

“I’m honored that I was an object of your concern, my prince.”

He scoffed at your slightly surprised expression.

“Of course, I would. You’re my personal guard, what reason is there for me to treat you inhumanly?”

That stupid fucking slip of his tongue.

Shit, he just cursed.

Damn it, again.

His tutor and family would go crazy if they could read his thoughts.

Of course he had to refer to you as his, like you were property. Of course he had to emphasize on that word as well. You were making him loosen up too much. It shouldn’t have happened, not at all. He couldn’t continue like this, what if he accidentally cursed in front of people? He would never be heard of again.

“I’d say I had expected that, but you’re different from other royals, so not really.”

“I understand. Also, you don’t have to call me ‘my prince’ when we’re alone. Just Sunghoon is enough.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment.

“My prince, I wouldn’t dare to-”

“Really guard. It’s fine.”

“But his Majesty-”

“He doesn’t have to know. Our secret.”

“If you say so…it’ll take me time to get used to calling you by your name, princ- I mean, Sunghoon.”

“Already getting there.”

“I guess so. In that case, you can call me by just my name. No need for ‘guard’.”

“Your wish is my command, Y/N.”

This was new. Not referring to someone by their title was disrespectful. He learned from a ripe young age that if he didn’t call someone by their title, he could end up with his head on a guillotine block in some places. Were you seriously making all his long years of education unravel? Silence fell upon the two of you before he spoke up again.

“What do you think love is like?”

You must’ve been taken aback, and he expected to see such an expression on your face. Instead, when he stole a glance at you, it was something else. Wistful? Longing? He couldn’t name it exactly.

“Books don’t give it justice. Neither do ballads. It’s…more than that.”

He was intrigued by your response. He raised an eyebrow, signalling you to continue.

“Oh? You’ve been in love before?”

You stared at him, a sad smile forming on your lips, a look flashing in your eyes. One of remorse, he recognized.

“Yeah. It was depressingly…beautiful.”

His chest tightened at your words for some reason.

“Heartbreak?”

“Kind of. We fought a lot…our personalities were very different. Then when we finally reconciled…he died. An illness took him away.”

Your eyes were filled with so much hurt, it almost made him cry. This was his first time seeing you emotional, vulnerable, and while he was honored that you trusted him enough to show you this side of yours, he wondered how much you were hiding away. All he wanted was to protect you so that you would never have to go through something as painful as that. He made a resolve to make sure that he was never the cause of the agony in your eyes.

“I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine. It was just- unexpected. It’s been a year anyway.”

“I hope this doesn’t bring back memories you buried, but…how would you describe love?”

You rested your chin on your palm, thinking for a bit.

“Love isn’t only about the physical signs. For me, love is always wanting to be by someone’s side, being so head over heels for them that even the littlest things like…I don’t know, something stupid, makes you remember them. It’s being their biggest supporter, but also telling them when they’re wrong. Love is wanting to keep them safe from all the bad in this world. It’s when even the simplest thing they do brightens your day, like a smile or a small act of kindness. Love is when you put their needs and wants above everything and everyone else. There’s obviously more, but that’s my personal experience.”

Holy moly. Sunghoon was in love.

He was in love. That emotion many desired to feel at least once. All his previous notions and confidence about it being platonic flew out the window. He very clearly did not learn enough about this feeling. He didn’t know whether he wanted to be happy that he could say he had loved once in his life, or scream in frustration that he fell for someone out of his league and not some princess who he was supposed to want like this.

God, he hated himself.

“Pri- Sunghoon, are you okay?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He couldn’t let you know, he was a hundred percent sure that you didn’t feel the same. Plus, he was the prince, and if you both were caught, it would mean bad for him and catastrophic for you.

“I’m fine. Come, let’s go. We might get caught if we stay any longer.”

He stood up immediately. You were confused but followed his orders. What he said, you obeyed.

It had been eight months since you became his personal guard, and half a year since he realized that he was in love with you. He tried to distance himself, but one look or word from you and his resolve faltered. He was so deep in this pit, and he didn’t know whether he wanted to dig deeper or climb out. He wanted you to stay away and he also loved the way you destroyed every single one of the walls he built around himself subconsciously.

He matured, and he was no longer the shy boy who didn’t know how to talk to someone of the opposite gender. He was a confident and charming crown prince now, the man of many’s dreams. You were the only one on his mind though.

His father was now eager to get him married off, and he had to comply with his wishes, He was no longer the king who served the people anymore - he was corrupted, only thinking about power. Sunghoon did his best to undo the damage inflicted on the population, but the situation was getting tense, and he knew it. Rebels were raising their heads and it was his job to keep them in check. It was difficult, but you helped him through it.

Presently, he was sitting in the dining room with his family, the king, queen, princess, and officials of the Hwan kingdom. This was the proposal his father liked the most because the Hwan kingdom was rich in resources, and this alliance hidden as a marriage would give the Parks access to those coveted precious stones. He was hoping, however, that the other king would say no for some reason and he’d be free.

He had no interest in the princess, however. She was too boring for him. They had zero common likes, and the only thing they related to each other on was the struggles of being next in line. This was probably the worst match he had ever met. She seemed like she wanted this much less than he did. She was at least trying, he had to give her that.

You stood behind him on his right side. He so desperately wanted to turn around and see your reaction to all this. Your face had to have no expression now, obviously, but you both shared secret looks with each other in odd situations, and he was sure you’d find this amusing. The chatter across the table died down suddenly, and all the attention was on the two kings in the room.

“We’ve agreed on this marriage. Prince Sunghoon and Princess Hyeju are now betrothed!”

Sunghoon’s hands, which were tapping the table, stilled. He froze in shock, every voluntary muscle in his body stopping movement.

No, this couldn’t happen.

This was a nightmare, a terrible dream. He pinched his thigh underneath the table and ended up proving to his dismay that he was wrong.

This was the worst day of his life.

His father droned on about the details of the wedding. He tuned it all out. He tilted his head just a little to see your face and noticed that you were gripping your spear much tighter than necessary. You knew that he didn’t want this, not at all. Maybe you were angry on his behalf.

He couldn’t do anything about this, however. This was just his fate, and he resigned to it immediately.

The meeting ended, and everyone, including Sunghoon, stood up and exited the room. You followed him as he went straight to the gardens to clear his head. His family would be occupied with entertaining the guests and making more plans, so it was just you and him. Again.

He sat in his usual spot underneath the same tree. He buried his face in his hands, frustrated. He heard the sound of you sitting down next to him, before feeling your hand lightly grip his shoulder.

“Hey, Sunghoon?”

“You don’t have to say anything. It’s fine.”

“I know how much you don’t want this. Trust me, I don’t want it either.”

The second sentence was uttered in a more quiet voice, and he moved his hands away from his face to look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

Your lips formed a thin line, your body language making it clear that you were saying this with hesitation.

“I don’t want you to marry her.”

You removed your hand from his shoulder. You looked down at the grass, fresh and green from the new spring season.

“Why? I mean- other than me not wanting it personally, there’s no reason you should hate it…this is an amazing opportunity for the people and the kingdom! We will prosper-”

“Fuck the people and the kingdom- I want you, dumbass.”

His eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

“What…do you mean.”

“I love you really badly. That’s what I mean.”

He couldn’t believe it. You, the very person he always desired desperately, his forbidden fruit, loved him back? Wanted him? This wasn’t real. He must’ve been knocked out after the marriage announcement and slipped into a pleasant dream.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You want me to prove it?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know what to expect, but you grabbing his face and crashing your lips on his was the farthest from his vague idea of what might happen.

It lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away suddenly. You noticed his dazed expression and started to panic.

“Shit, shouldn’t have done that, please don’t kill me, I-”

Your voice snapped him out of his haze before he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you in for another kiss. His hand tucked one strand of hair behind your ear and you melted into the action, calming down instantly. He was so gentle, so careful, he was holding you like you were a delicate object that was to be treated with utmost care at all times. When you both parted, his face wore a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling like stars.

“I feel the same.”

“Yeah, it was obvious.”

He chuckled at your comment, before frowning.

“You know this is dangerous, right? We shouldn’t be doing this.”

Your shoulders slumped at his words, knowing that he was completely correct.

“I do. I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess. I just didn’t…know how to tell you.”

He shook his head. To him, you could do no wrong. It was his fault. He should have gotten rid of you so that he could nip the blooming flower in his heart from the bud. He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

“I understand what you mean now. I don’t know how to stop it, though.”

“That’s…fine. Just knowing you feel the same is enough for me.”

It wasn’t. Neither for you, neither for him, and you both knew that. The fact that he couldn’t be yours and you couldn’t be his simply because of both of your duties was like a nasty, sharp torn ledged in the soft flesh of his heart. You and him were not meant to be. Your romance was only a fantasy, to be never fulfilled.

“Precisely. This is all it’ll ever be.”

It was night. He had one week until his wedding with the Hwan princess, and he was dreading it. Seeing your face became unbearable for him sometimes — you reminded him that he had everything a commoner could only dream of, but even the poorest of poor could love and he couldn’t. He was ready to throw his entire life away and disappear with you, but his fear of what would happen next to the country held him back.

He stared out the window in his bedroom which gave him a perfect view of the private gardens. The place where it all started and ended. The moonlight shone on the trees and flowers, giving it a peaceful aura, different from the cheery one it had in the daytime. Even in the comfort of his silk night clothes and soft blankets, he was in a state of unrest. He wanted to run, wanted to be free, wanted, wanted, wanted. He lay down, resting his head on his pillow as he waited for sleep to find him while he closed his eyes. Thankfully, the night was kind to him, and he dozed off almost instantly.

Sunghoon was rudely woken up by you frantically shaking his figure, pleading with you to wake up. When he came to his senses, he heard alarms sounding in the palace and immediately understood that it was an emergency, although what might’ve exactly happened was beyond him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I’m up. What’s going on?”

He sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and slapping his face for good measure.

“Rebels. Come, we need to run.”

The first word was enough for him to be fully alert. He foresaw them coming, so it wasn’t a big shocker for him. He put on his slippers and looked at you with determination. He was actually trying to mask his fear, but you didn’t need to know that. You grabbed his arm and ran out of the room. He was a bit startled at your speed at first, but quickly matched your pace. When you both reached a corridor, you slowed down, wanting to be careful of surprise attacks.

“Hide your face to the best of your ability. I’m not sure if they’ll recognize you in non-prince clothes, but it’s better to be safe. They’ll aim for me instead since I have the palace uniform.”

His chest tightened. You were ready to give up your life for his. He knew that was protocol for all soldiers - royals over their own lives. He knew, but you were different. He didn’t want you to die, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. You were his oxygen, he’d suffocate if you were gone.

Suddenly, he noticed a flash of light. He heard a whoosh and he saw the way your hair moved in the direction of the sound. He assumed it was a gust of air along with the lights of the palace shining weirdly, but then he looked at the wall in front of him and realized what it was - an arrow. It was embedded in said wall, and you had missed it by a hair’s breath. Literally. It had scratched your face, but other than that, you were fine.

You pulled him down to remain on the floor, before you stood up and ran to the rebel that shot it, your hands gripping your sword tight. You engaged in combat with her. She was rather buff, and even though she only had a bow and an arrow holder on her, she was slowly gaining ground in the fight. She was blocking your thrusts with her bow, catching your moves with its string. She landed a harsh blow on your chest, and he gritted his teeth seeing your sharp flinch. He had to do something and fast.

He crawl-walked across the floor, making sure to stay unnoticed. He moved to stand behind the rebel before forcefully grabbing her neck. She was gagged, and the sudden lack of air caught her off guard. You took the opportunity and struck her in the heart, and he let go of her.

You both ran off, eager to get to the safe room specially built for situations like this. Barely some distance away, he raised his head, neck aching from the constant strain, when you suddenly pushed him to the ground and covered his mouth with your hand. He was about to protest, feeling kind of hot and bothered with his position, but then he decided against it. You definitely did this for a reason, and he could repress his feelings for a while.

Your head turned as you stared at a rebel passing by, praying he wouldn’t notice you both. He was blind to your movement thankfully, and as soon as he left, you got off of Sunghoon, pulled him up, and ran. You pushed the door of the safe room which was behind a cupboard open with your shoulder, and he then realized that he was the first one to reach. The door closed, and he glanced at you, relief and gratitude clear in his eyes.

You gave him a thumbs up and turned to leave to assist the other soldiers with getting the rest of his family to the room when he suddenly grabbed your wrist. You looked at him with confusion, and you opened your mouth to ask him what he was doing when he placed his lips on yours. You let out a soft gasp when he held you closer, one arm around your waist, the other hand on your back, holding you close. This wasn’t like the last time you kissed — this was desperate, filled with emotion. He let go of you too soon, eyes shining with tears.

You both knew that there was a chance you wouldn’t come back to him, and this could be the last time he saw you.

You squeezed his hand in an attempt to reassure him. He just nodded at the door, knowing that you had your duty. You bowed and left as he watched you in fear, praying that you’d make it.

After the attack by the rebels, there were always new questions about the palace’s security floating around. Quite a few lives were lost. None of them were you or his family, but Sunghoon still grieved for them mentally. He couldn’t imagine the agony their families must’ve been going through, and he managed to convince his father to give all the deceased’s close relatives compensation.

The wedding was called off for now, much to his delight and his father’s despair. The old man had accused him of doing something to sabotage it, but he had grown a thicker skin, thanks to you. All efforts were now being put into strengthening the forces of the kingdom, and the actual matters of state were being ignored. This would lead to more rebellion, but his father didn’t seem to care. At this rate, he could die if he stepped out of the palace grounds — the people hated him that much. Sunghoon was already preparing to become the next ruler since that future would become a reality pretty soon.

A surprise attack was inevitable, but he didn’t expect the aggressor to be the damn Hwan kingdom.

They must’ve heard about the damage inflicted on the palace from spies and knew that the Park kingdom would be focusing its efforts on repairing it, thus taking advantage of the situation. It was smart of king Hwan, Sunghoon would give him that.

He rode his horse while inspecting the soldiers preparing for battle. None of them were properly ready for this. Many veteran soldiers were on break and were called back suddenly. They all did come, and he was grateful to them for that, even when they had the right to refuse. The troops were arranging their positions quickly, and a little bit of his anxiety relaxed. Their army was strong, they could face this.

As he rode back, he saw his father, who was seething with rage at being betrayed, Sunghoon’s brain was in overdrive. Many of these brave soldiers would sacrifice their body and soul for a stupid fight that wouldn’t bring much to the land that could have been easily prevented. He knew it would happen, but didn’t do anything that was enough to fix it. He couldn’t keep falling short of what was necessary, that wasn’t what a future king would do.

Not wanting to talk to the old man, he rode a little further where you were on your own horse, surveying the battlefield. He relaxed a bit more upon seeing you and moved to be next to you.

“This will be a tough fight, Sunghoon.”

“I hope it remains a fight that ends today and not a war that stretches over days.”

“Where we are victorious.”

“Obviously.”

“My- Sunghoon, what will you do in case your father…is killed?”

The slip-up and the way ‘my Sunghoon’ rolled off your tongue so perfectly made him miss your actual question for a moment. He let out a soft giggle, before manning up to think. He hadn’t considered that possibility at all. If that happened, then he would automatically become the next king. He’d rule the land and hopefully lead better than the previous king and his reign would be peaceful. He’d make sure of that.

“Be the next ruler, of course. I’d promote you to my personal advisor.”

You cracked a small smile at that.

“Not enough brain. Plus, what if I don’t make it?”

“Won’t happen. You’re too sexy to die. Your abilities are top tier too, you’ll survive.”

You laughed now, and he smiled fully at you. This was a situation unheard of — right before a whole battle, he was here flirting with you and laughing. So very serious.

He leaned his head closer to yours, hair falling over his eyes. They were pleading silently with you to steal one last kiss, one last secret gesture of love before you both left to fight, one last chance to hold you. You shortened the gap, about to comply, when the war horn sounded, signaling the start of the battle. He frowned, angry at the lost chance, but quickly kissed your forehead. You pecked his cheek in return, before putting on your helmet and riding off.

The sound of hooves hitting the ground and the sight of dust flying from them brought him back into the moment, and he rode in the same direction as his own army, intending to lead the fight. His father was weak and made dumb decisions, so it was up to him. He moved directly to the frontlines, pulling out his sword from its hilt as an enemy soldier charged at him. He fought with ease, and soon a dead body was on the ground.

He should have been desensitized now upon seeing gore and corpses, but it still disgusted him. He gritted his teeth and averted his gaze as he parried with more enemies. Soldiers were dropping left and right from both sides. Blood splatters were on his own face from fighting so fiercely. It was a miracle that he was still standing with only minor injuries, the Hwan soldiers were vigorous.

Time was passing quickly, although for him it felt like an eternity. He just wanted to go back after all this ended. He didn’t care if he had to marry the Hwan princess, all he wanted was for this bloodshed to end. The sound of arrows being shot, horses neighing, grunts of hurt and dying soldiers — it was all too much for him.

All of a sudden, a more experienced soldier was attacking him, he could tell by the moves. His entire focus was on fighting back because this guy could actually kill him, that much was clear. He didn’t notice the other soldier charging towards him from his left with a spear until he heard a clang.

His eyes darted in the direction of the sound for a second, only to see you had blocked the attack and thrown the soldier off his horse. He was impressed and inspired by you, and with renewed strength, he killed the veteran. He gave you a thumbs up, before looking to his right as someone else ran to replace the deceased soldier. He was ready to fight that person and everyone else with you and for you.

Then, tragedy struck.

An arrow was heading in his direction. Occupied with the current fight he was in, Sunghoon was in no position to dodge it, and you took the blow. Pushing his horse with your own, the arrow lodged in your chest instead. The only reason he noticed it was because of the sound of pain you made. He finished off the man fighting him, and then turned his head to look at you. Your head was drooping slightly and your grip on the reins of your horse had faltered.

No, no, no, this can’t happen!

You were supposed to stay with him, you were supposed to be by his side forever, he was supposed to get more chances to love you, even in secret, not just lose you like this.

He immediately shoved his sword back in its hilt before grabbing your torso to steady you. You were very faintly there, you just had to keep going a bit more for him, and he knew you could.

“Y/N, hold on, okay? Don’t close your eyes, please.”

“Try…ing.”

Fuck, your voice was so weak, you really were trying. He’d end your suffering soon, he promised silently.

Coincidentally, the war horn sounded once more, signifying the end of the battle. It was his kingdom’s, which meant he had won, just like you wanted.

But you weren’t conscious enough to realize it.

He promptly sat you on his horse in front of him, one arm around your waist holding you close and tight. He galloped fast to the palace medic, the best one in the entire region. He ignored the weird looks and the shouts of his name, traveling with urgency. He had to move fast for your sake, and also for his own. He’d lose his shit if you…no. You weren’t going to, he was sure of it.

“Try to not focus on the pain, we’re almost there.”

That was stupid advice, but he had to say something, anything to save him.

“This doctor will fix you up, I swear. Just- don’t give up yet, Y/N. I beg of you. It’s all I’ll ask for this badly from you.”

Your head was now tilted back, and it rested on his right shoulder. You opened your eyes slightly to look at him, which he took as a good sign.

Then you spoke.

“I won’t…won’t make it. It’s…no point…denying it…my…Hoon, I…love you.”

At your words, Sunghoon’s lips formed a thin line as he squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to force his tears to stay back. He could feel the blood running from your wound and collecting onto the sleeve of his suit, but he refused to accept it. You would make it, you couldn’t die.

“Shut-Shut up. You’re not dying, not when I’m here. Look, we’ve reached- you’ll be okay, I swear.”

He got off the horse, your limp body in his arms bridal style.

He wished he could be holding you like this in a different, more happier situation.

The doctor rushed out of her house and knew that it was urgent upon seeing the prince at her door. She took you in and he waited outside, pacing around nervously. He was so certain you’d survive, but the wound could be a major setback for the rest of your life. He’d have to make adjustments to accommodate you at the palace. He wouldn’t mind though, it was for you after all.

The doctor came out after a few minutes, and he waited for her to say something along the lines of ‘she survived, but ___’. Not to see her shake her head with a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it. She was gone when you came here. We tried our best, but…the arrow was poison tipped, which reduced her chances of surviving to zero.”

No. No no no no no. This lady was old and wrinkling, she was probably cuckoo and playing an unfunny prank on him.

“Can I see her? Alone?”

“Of course, sire.”

He rushed inside immediately, expecting to see you on the bed bandaged up and smiling at how well the prank worked on him-

She was right. You really were gone. You took your last breath in his arms. Your arms rested limply by your sides. The arrow was removed, but the blood stains were on your armor as evidence that the fatal injury did indeed happen. Useful reminder for a delusional ass like his. Your helmet was off your head now.

He sat down on a chair next to your bed and held one of your hands gingerly. It was already turning cold, and he hated it. He felt freshly made cuts and bruises along with older scars on your palm. His gaze fell on your face. The scratch you got from the rebel’s ambush was still partially healing. He took in your features with intense concentration, engraving them in his memory. He despised the fact that you looked so much at peace right now – when you just left his entire life in turmoil. He needed so badly to shake you back to life or something, but he knew that there was no point now. He lifted your hand up to his lips, kissing it in a tender manner, a weak replacement for the one you both missed maybe an hour or two before.

Just when he let go of your hand, the doctor rushed in with news.

“Sire, his majesty has passed away due to a…similar poisonous arrow shortly after victory.”

Both the people he knew wanted to win the most were dead just after it happened. Ironic, he thought - this was worthless now.

King Sunghoon walked through the cemetery for soldiers who had sacrificed their lives for the country. He stopped right in front of one which had many flower bouquets, a lot of them from his own previous visits, all of them your favorite flowers. He got on his knees on the right side of your gravestone, head bowed in respect and hands folded in his lap.

“Hello, Y/N. I know I’ve come to see you many times before, but I can’t help it. I miss you so much. You left too soon. I still believe that I should have taken that arrow instead of you…although it was for the better in hindsight. At least your last memory was of me and your pain ended quickly.”

Silence. He quickly wiped his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N. I still do, so much. I should move on by now, but it’s hard. Not when you meant so much to me, not when you changed me. A little for the worse, mostly for the better.”

He laughed dryly, looking at his hands. An expensive ring gleamed on his ring finger.

“I married a queen who I liked a lot. Not the Hwan princess, although she and I keep in touch often. We’re allies now. Kind of ironic, since I lost you and the old man in a war against that same kingdom’s old ruler.”

He wasn’t willing to let himself break, what if someone walked in on him sobbing over a dead soldier's grave? What would they think? He poked his eyes with his fingers, still in misery. No matter how much he tried, everything in his brain led back to you. While he didn’t want you to fade or leave his mind exactly, you were only meant to be a guest, visiting occasionally, not a permanent resident, not someone he still needed. When he calmed down, he quietly lifted his crown off his head and put it on top of your gravestone. He placed a solemn hand on it, closing his eyes. “This is a love stained crown, tainted with you and I, along with all our memories. Your affection will never wash away, no matter how much I try. I miss you and I love you, and I hope you’re doing better, wherever you are.”

#mallow’s works #mallow’s oneshots #divider by fairytopea #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen royal au #enhypen angst #sungoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon angst #sunghoon royal au #enhypen fic #sunghoon fic #sunghoon prince au #sunghoon enhypen #kflixnet

109 notes · View notes

lalal-99 · 2 months

Text

of the big city {h.j.} | track 2

©March 2023, February 2024 by lalal-99

Han Jisung x afab!reader | trope: slice of life, coming of age | word count: 6.9k

Synopsis: The one where uni starts and you meet some interesting people.

Check Chapter Overview for complete list of warnings

Note: The next chapters are gonna be much shorter, I promise. The overwork is going smoothly so far, I have the next chapter ready and will probably post beginning of next week. I also wrote two whole new chapters this week which I'm very proud of. I really hope I can finish this story this time around :)

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people. Thank you :)

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

“Baby? Do you have some paper for me?”

With an annoyed eye roll you ripped a page from your new notebook, smoothing over the edges of the torn binder. You pushed the single page over towards him with reluctance.

“You forgot your notebook on the first day already?”

And to think notebooks and pens were the main reason you had gone to the store yesterday.

“Don’t blame me. You know I’m not a morning person. And you didn’t want to wake me up with sex, so...” The smugness in his voice made you wonder if he actually thought he had won this discussion. You raised your eyebrows at him, hinting at the thinness the metaphorical ice on which he was walking.

You usually didn’t get annoyed that easy. If you had, your relationship sure as hell wouldn’t have lasted this long. The reason: Jisung and his lack of understanding social cues. To take the hint and not bother you any further when you were already frustrated, all it took was a look.

Although he wasn’t the reason for your irritation today. Or at least not the sole one.

It was the first day of university, so naturally, you were a little on edge. Whatever happened from this day on would decide over the paths your life took in the future. It was a step you had waited so long to take but dreaded all the same. Jisung, as your loving boyfriend, should have known how much this meant to you.

Sometimes, you speculated if he did it on purpose. Rile you up when you were anxious to give you something to put your focus on instead. His intentions might have been sweet, but this wasn’t taking any tension off your shoulders. Jisung forgetting his notebook and blaming you for it, even as a joke, could have likely been the last straw.

“Baby?” As you looked back at him, you noticed his cute pout. It was almost cute enough to make you forget what you had been so annoyed about a minute earlier. “Do you also have a spare pen? And some highlighters would be nice, too.”

Shaking your head at Jisung, you let out a snort. So he hadn’t forgotten just his notebook, but his pen and highlighter too? Got it. Very unwillingly, you handed him the items. You thankfully always had a spear set in case of emergency. Or, in this case, your boyfriend’s scatterbrain you had been dealing with for many years already.

“You have got to be kidding me.” He blew you a playful kiss, thanking you for your service. “Don’t let this become a habit. I’m not piggybacking you through university as I did in High School. Understood?”

As much as you loved him, Jisung had his fair share of annoyances. Like his living-in-the-moment type of attitude. A contrast to your thoroughly organised persona, you usually appreciated your differences. Without his Yin, your Yang wouldn’t shine as bright and vice versa.

That still didn’t change that you wouldn’t be his personal secretary this time around.

Jisung was old enough to care for himself and not rely on his girlfriend for every one of his needs. Whether it was some paper and pens, your skillfully crafted cue cards, or an all-nighter before one of his final exams. How ever you had talked him into studying for that one anyways.

“I love you, too.”

If he only weren’t so damn cute.

Out of pure principle you ignored his comment with an unintentional snicker. You continued your draft outline on your first notebook page—your attempt of getting a head start on future lecture notes—thus almost missing the voice chatting up Jisung.

“I’m taking you won’t be sleeping in the dorm a lot, will you?”

The depth of the second voice made you look up from your notebook. As the light shone into the room from behind the boy, it almost blinded you. Once your eyes got used to the brightness, you could finally make out a lean figure. He set a reusable coffee cup on the desk next to Jisung before sliding onto the wooden chair.

The boy was clad in comfortable attire, loose hanging jeans paired with a simple t-shirt. His long, blonde hair messily framed his face, a green beanie rounding off his skater-boy look. Something told you he had more to himself than what his cover showed. The several silver rings on his fingers could have been the reason for your suspicion. Or it was how he carried himself—a perfect line leading from his soles to the tip of his head. In exact contradiction to your boyfriend’s slouching posture.

“Morning to you too, sunshine.” The smirk in Jisung’s tone indicated his playfulness and a sense of closeness. “Why do you care? You’re not in love with me, are you?”

“No,” the boy scoffed, his bag placed neatly under the table. “I just wondered if I can stop waiting up for you or if I will have to identify your corpse at some point.”

Looking past Jisung, the boy noticed your presence, sending you a heart-warming smile. The freckles all over his nose and cheeks juxtaposed the darkness of his voice and over-all looks. Something about his aura relaxed you, his company drenching his atmosphere in happiness.

“Hi, I’m Felix!”

“I’m Y/N. I’m Jisung’s-”

“Girlfriend. Yeah, I know. He talks about you a lot.”

Jisung leaned in closer to you, though he kept his voice at the same volume, “Be careful, baby. He’s very much in love with me already. I might leave you for him.”

“You can have him.” You leaned past your boyfriend, directly addressing Felix. “But make sure to always have a spare pen and paper. And also a spare pair of pants.” The scene from earlier this morning came back to mind, a teasing look creeping onto your face. “He might say he can care for himself, but he will wear your leggings and pink baby-girl crop top when there’s no alternative.”

“Good to know,” Felix replied with a deep chuckle, amused by the picture you had painted. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, showing off his ears and all the piercings. Okay, so, definitely not a skater-boy-type.

“You might be joking now.” Jisung threw a know-all look in your direction. “But you won’t be laughing when I wear your fishnets to your grandpa’s next birthday.”

“Don’t you dare put on my fishnets! They were expensive.”

“That’s alright. We’re about the same size, so he can wear mine.” Felix’s words came unexpected and not even Jisung couldn’t conceal his amusement.

“Great, there’s two of you now. Is it too late to drop out?”

In all the years you had known him, Jisung rarely ever made friends this easy. Not even a week on campus, and he had gotten close enough to Felix to joke in his usual manner. How they had even gotten this close when Jisung had spent most of the day at your place was a mystery to you. Still, the little time they had spent together was enough to have discovered a mutual hobby—catching Pokémon. As they argued over who had found the rarest creature, you picked up your previous task. Though that didn’t stop your joy in finding that Jisung had made a friend. And a nice one at that.

You felt guilty for even thinking it, but Jisung had never been particularly good at making friends. Not before meeting you and not afterwards either.

Most of all, you blamed the lack of a ‘do not say’-filter in his conversational skills. His openness posed an obstacle to making new acquaintances—or at least it had many times before. After years of getting side-eyed or complained about, he had stopped talking to new people all together. Like he already expected the sole attempt to make connection to backfire. The few relationships he had formed despite his shyness had been pure luck. And your very own relationship only existed due to your perseverance.

That Jisung had already befriended Felix, at least as much as possible in three days, put you in a bright mood. One of your biggest fears about moving was your boyfriend rooming with someone he didn’t get along with. With someone as talkative and easily compatible as Felix, Jisung would likely not be clinging to you as much. Which wouldn’t have been the worst scenario, but still.

With every passing minute the lecture hall filled more. When something sharp scratched your shin, your head finally snapped towards one of the new-comers. A blonde girl had sat down next to you, and you found the culprit when you noticed her pink heels.

“Oh my God. Did I hit you? I’m so sorry.” Her hand came to her mouth in shock as she apologised a couple of times. You rubbed over the sensitive skin which was already bruising from when you had hit that crate of boxes yesterday. Talk about unfortunate accidents. You pushed the urge to groan at the pain down, forcing a smile onto your face instead. “It’s those dang heels. I knew I should have worn the sneakers today.”

“It’s fine. Surprised me, that’s all.” Embarrassment reached over her cheeks to her ears, a frown painting her face. “No worries.”

For a few seconds she hesitated but finally accepted your willingness to let it go. Out of the corner of your eye, you followed her as she unloaded the contents of her purse. She pulled out a torn notepad and a vintage-leather pencil case, which must have seen better days. She reached back into her designer bag, face distraught as her search came up empty.

She tried grabbing the attention of two boys on her right side, tied deep into their conversation. When she eventually realised she had no other option, her gaze tiptoed towards you. “Sorry to bother you again.” Teeth nibbling at her lip, she forced herself to get over her embarrassing mistake seconds earlier. “Do you have a pen I can borrow?”

Even if your shin had hurt worse, you would have still helped her out. With a genuine smile, you nodded, searching your pencil case and then your bag.

“I wanted to grab one before leaving my room, but I noticed a stain on my shirt and needed to change it. So, I forgot about the pen,” the girl recounted her morning ventures. “I’m so sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re not bothering me,” you assured her. Your smile turned to an apologetic scowl once you realised you couldn’t help her out after all. “I’m sorry. I always carry at least one extra pen, but scatterbrain next to me left his head in bed this morning.”

“You talking ‘bout me?”

Jisung, who you hadn’t expected to react to the mention of his unflattering nickname, turned to you.

“Hey, Felix,” you called the boy two seats from yours, ignoring your boyfriend. “Do you happen to have a spare pen?”

“Sure. I always carry an extra one in case.”

“Interesting. So, some people do use their heads before leaving the house.” It was a reproachful remark addressed to Jisung and his forgetfulness, and he caught the meaning.

“Some people do use their heads before leaving the house,” he scrunched his nose, teasing you by mimicking your voice and repeating your previous words as you snickered. Your perfect boyfriend, everyone.

Felix handed the pen from his jacket past you, the girl accepting it with a thankful smile.

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“I usually go by Felix. But lifesaver is good, too.”

The girl giggled, before introducing herself, “I’m Yuqi. I live in the student housing off campus. You know, the ones next to that coffee shop with the green doors. It’s open 24/7. Genius marketing move, right?” Biting her lip after that info dump, you noticed her nose doing a little scrunch. “Sorry. I talk a lot.”

“I haven’t noticed,” Jisung joked, your elbow gracing his rib at his sarcasm. You wondered if there would ever come a day you didn’t have to act as his personalised filter.

“Don’t listen to the idiot next to me,” you declared, “I find it charming.”

“Me, too,” Felix agreed, and Yuqi relaxed. It told you that she usually didn’t get that reaction when spraying words like a waterfall.

“I live in the same building.”

Excitement took over her features. “What? No way! Which room?”

“B4.”

Yuqi shrieked, her hand touching your arm, “I’m B12! That makes us floormates.”

“I guess it does.” Yuqi was the first person you met who lived in the same building that wasn’t your roommate or her girlfriend. “I’m Y/N. And this,” you thumbed back at your boyfriend, “this is Jisung.”

“Hi,” he greeted her with an awkward wave.

“Nice to meet you all.”

With that, Yuqi picked up her purse, pulling out an old folder. Well, it appeared to be rather new, but the edges were already torn, some of the plastic cover coming off the corners. The latter especially gave you an ick, and you forcefully pushed down the urge to smooth over them. You could handle some chaos, even if this was a lot.

Good thing, Yuqi spoke up again, giving something different to concentrate on.

“What’s your major?”

“I’m doing Business Admin.” Before you could return the question, Yuqi already reacted, hand touching your biceps in excitement.

“No freakin’ way! I’m in Marketing.” The delight in her voice was addictive as you couldn’t help a grin pulling on your lips. “See, I even wore the perfect outfit for our first lecture later today.”

Yuqi leaned back, giving you a better look at her clothing.

She was in a pair of white jeans, a rosé-coloured blouse adorning the upper half of her lean figure. A single, thin gold necklace decorated her neckline, fitting the two golden earrings. The one thing that stood out in that well-rounded outfit was her other earrings. About a dozen of them decorated both ears from the dainty top to the slim bottom. To round the fit off, she wore a pair of light-pink high heels. The very same that had already made acquaintance with your shin.

“Pretty, right?”

“Very girlboss,” you agreed in earnest. Your own clothes contrasted her colourful optics, made up of mostly black items.

“I’m so glad I’m not the only girl in the classes.” There was a hint of playful disgust in her statement, making you chuckle. “All the other people I met who are in Business were boys. Not that boys are bad or anything. I love boys. But they can be—a lot.”

“I get it. I lived with three boys back home. Well, technically, my dad is a man,” you air-quoted, “but where’s the difference, right?” Yuqi chuckled. “It’s nice to have a girl around every once in a while.”

Yuqi reached for her coffee cup as her gaze wandered to the grey haired middle-aged man who entered the room. He walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, his briefcase landing on the table with a loud thud.

With that, you straightened up, pen in hand and ready to take notes the second your prof opened his mouth.

05:23 PM: Hey, are you studying in the dorm tonight?—Y/N 05:25 PM: No. The place is all yours :)—Hwasa 05:25 PM: Is lover boy coming over again ;)—Hwasa 05:26 PM: He’s hanging out with his roommate tonight... Bonding. I’m thinking about inviting a friend over. I met her at orientation earlier this week—Y/N 05:27 PM: Sounds fun—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Anything special planned?—Hwasa 05:27 PM: Not yet. Maybe eat something and a movie? Explore the city?—Y/N 05:28 PM: You wanna explore this bar Joey’s? I’m meeting some friends there later. Happy Hour starts at 8—Hwasa 05:29 PM: You sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude—Y/N 05:29 PM: I told you I’d be taking you out one of these days—Hwasa 05:30 PM: Texting you the address right now!—Hwasa

Stepping through the dark wooden doors, a wall of warmth hit you like a thick blanket.

It had gotten colder the past few days, fall beginning to hit the city. You took off your scarf, looking around the place in search of the familiar, pretty face.

This place seemed to be the city’s hotspot, every table packed to full capacity. Red velveteen clad the round tables right by the entrance, the seating options becoming wider once you reached the back. Couches fanned out in random patterns all over the dark oak floor. The furniture’s vintage finish further accented the brown parquet.

You felt like you had stepped straight into a movie scene.

The wave of a dainty hand over the crowd’s heads caught your attention as you spotted your roommate in the back. You grabbed Yuqi by the hem of her sleeve, dragging her behind you as you made your way to the group of girls with a smile.

“Hello,” you greeted the table once you had gotten close enough for them to see you.

Hwasa hugged you in bliss, almost tipping over the drink in front of her, “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it.” As she noticed Yuqi, she pulled her in for another warm embrace, “Nice to meet you! I’m Hwasa.”

“Yuqi,” your friend replied, joy written on her face at the enthusiastic welcome.

Knowing Hwasa and her usual calm persona, you knew she must have already taken full advantage of Happy Hour.

“Nice to meet you.” You introduced yourself to the two unfamiliar faces, sending Wheein a quick nod as she met it with a smile.

The two girls with your roommate and her girlfriend couldn’t have been much older than them. The first had straight black hair reaching the bottom of her back, at least from what you could tell. The other sported a short grey bob. It highlighted her sharp jaw in what you could only describe as a tomboy-ish look. Like Wheein and Hwasa, they were beautiful and made you somewhat self-conscious. You shouldn’t have come here unprepared, or put on mascara, at least.

First to introduce herself was the black-haired girl, her smile almost blinding you. “Hi, I’m Solar.”

An extraordinary name for an extraordinary beautiful person. Fitting. In your mind, there was no doubt she made people of any gender fall in love with her the moment she stepped into a room. Her calm, almost carefree aura was truly something else.

“And I’m Byul.” She was just as pretty, though in a less traditional sense. A boyish charm surrounded her, though her blazer hinted at a seriousness to her person. She looked—important.

You introduced yourself and Yuqi, pulling out the two remaining chairs. They must have fought off several people to reserve these. “Are you students, too?”

“We used to be,” Solar explained as she emptied her tulip-coloured drink.

The girls seemed to have stocked up on various drinks; more glasses than people were at the table. If the drinks were half as good as they looked, you’d be in for a long night.

“We graduated last year,” the black-haired beauty continued, bumping shoulders with Hwasa. “I used to be Hwasa’s roommate, actually.”

“I didn’t even notice!” Hwasa giggled, thus proving your assumption about the amount of alcohol consumed before your arrival. “She’s my ex, and you’re my next.”

You chuckled in amusement, reaching for the menu at the edge of the table. The faux leather was soft beneath your fingertips as you skimmed over the Happy Hour options. When your eyes landed on your favourite drink, a smile spread on your lips as you handed the menu over to Yuqi.

“They have Long Island Ice Tea in three different flavours?” Yuqi exclaimed, the scenic buzz of this place rubbing off on her. Not that she wasn’t this emotional about almost anything. “Would it be very immature to try them all tonight?”

“Not at all. I am browsing through the new offers myself. We can get drunk together.”

Not a fair fight. Hwasa had already gotten a head start.

You called over the waiter by raising your hand, and he headed for your table not a minute later. He raised an unintentional eyebrow at the consumption level—One Mojito, three Long Island Ice Teas and another Piña Colada and Gin Tonic. Even so, the boy sent you a smile, spinning around and wandering back to the bar.

Once he was gone, Hwasa swiftly emptied her previous drink. All it took was one strong sip through her straw, and the Tonic and ice was gone. The coldness reached her brain soon after, prompting her eyes to grow wider—like those of a comic-book figure.

“Babe, you should slow down,” Wheein suggested with a chuckle. But her girlfriend waved her off.

“I’m fine. Also, I don’t have any courses tomorrow, so I have the whole day to sleep off that hangover I’ll be having.”

“Great. I’ll remind you when you’re hugging the toilet seat later.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Mhm.” Wheein didn’t seem uber-convinced Hwasa would keep her promise but let it go anyways.

As the girls went back to their previous conversation, you tried your best to follow them.

You understood that Solar was passed over for a big promotion at her job and that she was convinced, her boss was sleeping with her opponent.

“What do you do for work?” Yuqi’s question took the words right out of your mouth.

“I am an assistant buyer at a small fashion label,” Solar explained, making you look at Hwasa in surprise.

“Don’t you also study fashion?” Taking a sip from her already empty glass, she nodded in silence. You frowned when you noticed her uncomfortable look at Wheein following your words. There must have been some form of backstory, and the last thing you wanted was to make things awkward. Instead you attempted correcting your mistake. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

Passing a few glances around the table, Byul finally spoke up. “Our cutie Hwasa here used to study Chemistry full-time. She developed a small crush on Solar in her second year, so, she changed majors to spend more time with her.”

It took a moment to dawn on you why Wheein and Hwasa had reacted the way they did.

“Yes, but I hadn’t met my love then.” Hwasa bobbed her girlfriend’s nose, pouting to cheer her up. After a few seconds, Wheein couldn’t stop her frown from turning into a giggle. They were just the cutest.

“You’re a little drunk, aren’t you?”

“Drunk of love!”

“I stand corrected. You’re absolutely hammered.”

Playfully nudging her girlfriend, Wheein relaxed, emptying her own drink. Non-alcoholic, from what you had gathered.

“Anyways, since Solar is into boys only—”

“Men,” Solar interrupted her friend with a sigh. “I stopped dating boys a long time ago. They never know where to put things.”

“Sorry, since Solar is into men only,” Byul corrected, her eyes meeting yours again, “that didn’t work out. Now Hwasa is stuck with fashion. She met Wheein not too long after.”

“That’s right!”

The enthusiasm in her reaction made Hwasa finally tip over her glass. The melted ice cubes went all over the table, the cool liquid running down the sides. Some of it landed on your jeans, so while Hwasa apologised profusely, you called over the waiter a second time in five minutes.

A moment later, the young man rushed over with your drinks, handing you a towel to dry yourself. It didn’t go by you that his gaze focused on you for a few extra beats, but you ignored it. Your returned the now moist towel with kindness and he left with a light blush.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that.” Solar’s caught your attention by the touch of her hand as she nodded towards the waiter.

“Notice what?”

“That the waiter was flirting with you,” she explained, looking around the table. “You noticed too, didn’t you?”

Byul agreed, “Sure did.”

“You’re not one of those girls who are, like, super slow on cues, right?” You chuckled at her question, shaking your head.

“No, I noticed, too.”

The confusion on the beauty’s face made you chuckle a little. “So what, then? He’s cute. Get his number.”

“Nah, I’m good.” You waived her off, taking a sip from your fresh drink. The rum burned down your throat, the lime juice and sugar adding a bittersweet taste to it. “Also, I don’t think my boyfriend would be particularly happy with me asking other men for their number.”

If everyone’s focus hadn’t been on you already, it sure was now.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“Very much so, yes.”

Solar seemed surprised by the information.

“Is it serious? I mean, you obviously shouldn’t cheat on him. But you are at university. If you don’t explore and get to know yourself now, when will you get another chance?”

You took another sip to ease the discomfort from being the center of attention. Not exactly where you usually were. “We’ve been together for five years. I’d say that’s pretty serious.” That did the trick, her mouth now agape in shock. She leaned in closer to you, cradling her chin in her palm.

“Five years? So, you’re High School Sweet Hearts?”

“Middle School, actually.”

“Is he any hot?” Yuqi interrupted, also leaning in further. How your relationship had become the talk of the whole table had gone right by you.

“What do you mean? You met him at orientation. He sat right next to me.”

“No way! That’s your boyfriend?” You hummed, agreeing. “But you called him dumbass like 5 times in one hour.”

“I did, but it’s more a term of endearment. I call Jisung dumbass; he calls me stupid. It’s a whole thing.”

As soon as you had cleared that up, Solar was back at it, hitting you with question after question.

“Wait, but like, for real. You’ve never been with anyone else since Middle School?”

You shook your head, correcting her statement. “I’ve never been with anyone else ever.”

Usually, you never talked about yourself and your relationship this much. You were rather private in that sense, though, you also understood their curiosity. It wasn’t every day that you met someone who had been with the same person since they were 14. You understood the length of your relationship was uncommon for someone your age.

“So, he’s your first boyfriend?”

“Yup.”

“So, you never kissed anyone else? Had sex with anyone else?” Byul further interrogated, now also fully invested in your love life. That you had only met the girls maybe 20 minutes ago seemed irrelevant. Not like you hadn’t seen that question coming sooner or later.

You agreed with a nod. “I never wanted anyone else.”

“How do you even maintain a relationship for that long?” Yuqi budded in again, her focus different from the older women’s. “My longest relationship lasted 4 months, and then I got tired of him.” For some reason, her statement made so much sense to you. Yuqi definitely needed constant excitement to fill her heart. “What’s your secret.”

You thought about it before answering shortly, “Shared trauma, maybe?” When no one laughed at your words, you backtracked. Your honesty might have been too much for them after all. “That was a joke. Obviously. We have a lot in common and went through similar stuff in life.”

It became quiet for a few seconds, though you sensed that Solar was holding back. Whatever she might have had dancing on the tip of her tongue, she took her sweet time wording it in her pretty head.

“Please, don’t take this the wrong way.” Always a great way to start a sentence. “If the shoe fits, tie that bitch up. But you’re in college now. This is your time to explore your interests—your options. No one comes out of college the way they go in. It’s a life-changing experience.”

“So, I should cheat on my boyfriend, is what you’re saying?” You started getting a little defensive now that your love life appeared to be under attack. All the attention got uncomfortable as much as you understood where it was coming from.

“That’s not what I was saying at all.” Some of the tension fell from your shoulders. “I’m saying people change. So, don’t be surprised if your boyfriend and you don’t work out.” Still not the direction you wanted this conversation to go. But Solar continued anyway. “Take Byul, for example.”

Solar leaned back, her hand coming to her friend’s shoulder.

“Byul started college, wanting to become a lawyer.” Byul nodded, agreeing. Her blazer somehow made more sense now. “She finished her degree and opened her own music production studio not two months later. And Hwasa—” With that, Solar went on to your roommate, who threw her a playful wink. “The first year of college, she cycled between so many partners, we were certain, she’d end up pregnant or with an STD. And look at her now.”

From how lovingly Hwasa was gazing at Wheein, there was no doubt in your mind that she had happily moved on from those days.

“And when Wheein started college,” Solar continued her list, “she was straight as a ruler. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“I do.”

And it was the truth. You understood that most people used college to find their path in life. The women around you were the best example for it. All four of them had found their place in the world, who they wanted to be, through university. You didn’t doubt that whatever had happened to them was necessary for them to grow into the women they were today.

At the same time, you knew your life better than anyone else at this table. You remembered every little thing you had gone through together, with Jisung. You understood how his mind worked. What he struggled with and how to get him through it emotionally—you had witnessed most of it with your own eyes.

And there was nothing one-sided about it either. There was no doubt in your mind that the same went for Jisung. He knew you like the palm of his hand—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’m still very sure we are not gonna break up.”

“I hope you don’t.” Yuqi finally came to your rescue, cutting the tensive atmosphere. “He’s adorable.”

Thankfully, Solar accepted it as the end of story. She sat back as Yuqi diverted the conversation from you to Byul, asking her about her work at the studio. You calmed down as the centre of attention drew from you and towards the ins and outs of the music industry. When Hwasa playfully bumped her shoulder into yours, you looked up at her. A teasing wink showcased her support and affection. And probably her drunkenness.

“Sorry about her. Solar can be very straightforward, but she has a good soul. She’s a realist, and very openly so.”

“It’s alright,” you told her, taking your glass and a huge sip of your Mojito. “I know most relationships at our age don’t last. But we’re solid as a rock. It’d need a tsunami to separate us.”

You hoped the rest of the night would go a little less awkward than this. Though, as the alcohol ultimately entered your system, you soon forgot about the whole conversation.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

A second later Hwasa bent over the nearest bush.

“What happened?”

“She got sick,” you explained the situation as you used your hair tie to fixate Hwasa’s long locks behind her neck. “You good?”

Hwasa wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and nodded as she stumbled towards the housing entrance. Wheein supported her other side, the two of you exchanging concerned looks.

“Is she gonna be alright?”

“I think so. It usually takes a glass of water and an aspirin, and she’ll be back to her old self.” You didn’t doubt Wheein knew how her girlfriend usually handled alcohol. “I’m gonna take her to my room to make sure. It’s closer to the bathroom, and I don’t have a roommate she could disturb.”

“You have a single room?” Yuqi questioned in surprise. Her enthusiasm after midnight was still higher than yours had been all evening. “Man, I should become dorm supervisor next year.”

“It has its perks.”

Yuqi took over once you had reached your room, holding up Hwasa so they could lead her to her girlfriend’s room.

“Good night. Call me if you need help,” you told Wheein, who nodded thankfully.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” After Yuqi had bidden her goodbye, you turned to your door, entering the four-digit code to unlock it.

Once inside, you rid yourself of your shoes, turning the lights on as you set your bag down by your dresser.

A groan came from your bed, making you jump and stumble back against the wooden cupboard. Your blanket moved at the disturbance, a bulge the size of a grown person appearing underneath it. It took a mop of familiar brown hair to calm you as you realise that not an intruder had overtaken your bed.

“Dang it! Jisung, you creep! You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Noticing the tired haze in his eyes, you strolled over to him. You slid next to his torso as your hand reached for his chubby cheek, grazing his skin. It woke him up, your action met with a sigh and his head leaning comfortably against your palm.

Under the blanket, you noticed his shirt, which didn’t even begin to cover his bulging biceps. It took you a moment to recognise why it didn’t fit him like his other clothes usually did.

“Are you wearing my crop top again?” Amusement laced your tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You almost didn’t understand him, his vague mumbling blurrier than typical. He must have been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to hang out with Felix tonight.” You took out your earrings, neatly placing them on the small nightstand by your bed. “What happened to bonding with your roomie?”

“We hung out for four hours,” he explained with a yawn. “Then I came over because I missed you.”

Running your hand down the side of his face, he grabbed it as soon as he could reach it. He brought it to his lips to give your skin a quick peck.

“Now, come to bed, so we can sleep.”

“I need to get changed and brush my teeth first.”

“I can help you get out of your clothes. And I don’t care if your breath stinks.”

“I care.” You got off your bed to rush through your evening routine so you could fall into your love’s arms already. Yet, your intentions were rudely interrupted. “What the heck!”

Before you could take a step, Jisung’s arm snapped out from beneath your blanket, pulling you back. You couldn’t react fast enough as he dragged you into a lying position next to him, still fully clothed.

“See? I don’t care.”

“What about the light?”

Lifting his head off your pillow, he grabbed the tissue box from your nightstand and tossed it at the light switch. You didn’t know when he had suddenly learned to aim, but it hit smack-bang in the middle, shutting off all the light in your room.

“I gotta admit, that was impressive.”

“Now, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

You giggled as he effortlessly opened the button and zipper of your pants and dragged them down your legs. He tossed them towards the end of the bed, to be dealt with tomorrow. Next was your top, which he swiftly brought over your head, throwing it to join the rest of your clothes.

“If you only cleaned as quick as you undress me.”

“Everybody has their own forté.” You snickered at his words, closing the gap between you. “I could also be way quicker than that. We haven’t had sex in a week. Right now, your clothes are my nemesis.”

The heat of his body caught you in a warm hug, “A week already, huh?”

“8 days and 7 hours, to be exact. But who’s counting?” His arm came around you, scooting you closer so your back pressed flat against his chest.

“You wanna reset that clock?”

“Nah,” he brushed your suggestion off. “I’m way too tired to have sex right now.”

“Tomorrow then?”

“About that.” His hot breath fanned over your neck. “I know it’s date night, but there’s this party I was invited to. I thought we could go to that instead.”

“A party?” It was the first week of university. How had your introverted boyfriend already been invited to a party? You should have probably seen the answer coming. “Whose?”

“I think you know.”

Of course, you knew. How could you not when his parties had been legendary even back in the day? Though, until now, you had suppressed his present at this campus all together. His being the one who shalln’t be named.

You thought about Jisung’s suggestion for a second.

Sure, a party would intervene with your bi-weekly date night. And, on top of that, it was organised by someone, you didn’t know how to approach after everything that had gone down. But this was university, after all. And, as Solar had said before: University is a once-in-a-lifetime experience. So, why the heck shouldn’t you go to a party?

“So? What do you say?”

“Fine.” Jisung’s previously unbothered expression turned into a smile as he grazed his lips to your neck. “Just... Don’t tell your sister we’re going. I’m not sure she would appreciate us hanging out with her ex.”

“Lying to my sister? Who are you, and what did you do to my girlfriend?” A yawn hit your ear, your face scrunching at the unwanted ASMR session. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

As Jisung slipped into a deep slumber, your mind raced through the events of your day. It usually did at the end of the day, your mind too tired to do anything productive but too awake to rest. The silence around you allowed you to remember an earlier text message you never got to answer.

Pulling your arm out of your boyfriend’s iron hold on your body, you reached for your phone on the nightstand.

Your dad had sent you a voice message about three hours earlier when you had still been at the bar. You pushed the play button and brought the phone to your ear to not disturb Jisung’s beauty sleep. By all means, he needed it. Or so he said.

“Hi, honey. It’s dad. I hope you had a lovely day and aren’t studying too hard already.” You smiled at his words, knowing it was one of his biggest hopes for you to get some time to yourself. “Remember what I told you when you left? Live a little!” A pause as he was seemingly picking up something from the ground. “I just wanted to ask when you were coming home Friday. I’m planning brunch with you two and Jia, so if you could be here by noon, that’d be great.”

Friday was the day after tomorrow. You hadn’t forgotten you’d be going back home for the weekend, but you sure hoped the party tomorrow wouldn’t keep you up all night. If you had to be home by noon, you’d have to leave campus by ten. And after a party, like you expected this one to be, you prayed you and a certain someone wouldn’t be too hungover.

“Anyways, sleep tight, and have a lovely night. We miss you!”

A second voice appeared in the background, not too far from your father’s, and your heart skipped a happy beat. The words were harder to make out as he was munching on an apple, cereal, or something else crunchy.

Still, there wouldn’t come a day you wouldn’t understand his babbling.

“Come home soon, please! Mhpf—I miss you, mommy.”

With a loving smile plastered on your face, you replied with a heart emoji. After such a perfect goodnight-messaged, you’d be sleeping like a stone tonight.

Next Chapter >>> Let me know if you want to be tagged. Make sure you have an age indicator in your profile.

Masterlist Let me know your thoughts!

71 notes · View notes

worldsfromhoney · 7 months

Text

Greetings, plebeians

This is your resident unknown and attention-depraved author/writer, BEE/bee/beE/🐝

Here’s some stuff about moi:

I like… tea. YES I LIKE TEA 🍵🍵🍵 it’s quite honestly the greatest invention of all time

I also like reading. That’s kinda like a hobby that all writers are mandated to say. Which is reasonable.

I’m a fan of miniatures and piano. Yeah, I did try them out. Yeah, I did fail spectacularly, thank you! ☺️

I also like painting but the therapy one and not just a blank canvas that sucks the soul out of artists lol

What do I write?

I write… stuff. BEAUTIFUL, HEARTBREAKING STUFF, mind you. But it’s still stuff, so lemme elaborate.

Speculative fiction - if you idk this, it’s really just a mix of fantasy and sci-fi; the ‘what if’ genre

Urban fantasy - don’t get me wrong, I love high fantasy, but urban is waaay easier to worldbuild

Steampunk & other punks - PUUUUNK 🤘🤘🤘

Horror and thriller - mostly psychological and body horror, don’t worry! I don’t do jump scares or anything ☺️

Slice of life - mwah my heart and soul mwah

Others - yes, I am capable of doing other genres 😤 I’m a multi-faceted bee, you know?

DISCLAIMER: what I write might only reflect upon my psyche and state of mind but that is not a guarantee

My WiPs

I am proud to say that… I DO NOT HAVE ANY!!

*gasp* what ever do you mean bee? Are you quitting writing? *sobs*

No, my darlings.

i just have no big projects to boast about right now. I feel like big projects aint my thing at the moment and pushing myself only led me to disappear from the internet for a month 😞

What i do have are short works i randomly choose to write and post here on tumblr !!

✨ FICLET MASTERLIST IS HERE ✨

🐝 POETRY MASTERLIST IS HERE TOO 🐝

If you’re interested, please comment on this post or reblog or DM me if you want to be put in the taglist!!

Does that mean you accept… requests?

…………yes. Yes i do. Go and flood my askbox you plebs !

Am I anywhere else?

Please. It’s 2023. Of course I’m… everywhere *cue evil laugh*

Bluesky - if you haven’t heard it yet, tis the new Twitter… cuz it’s literally made by the old creators of that glorious blue bird *cue a moment of silence*

Tiktok or Twitter - do not look for me here

Tumblr - EYYYYYYYYYYY i post ALL my stuff here !! They’re really just bait to hook some writer friends 🥹

Ko-Fi - ehem ehem i know first drafts are considered shite but BUT i have decided to make them available for perusal yes you can burn your eyes to anyone who buys me a cup of tea ~

Patreon - i finally have one!! I’m still setting it up tho and prepping all the content 💛💛💛

I’ll be doing a patreon soon enough actually so look out for that

How I organise myself

Well i wish this is applicable to actual life because i’d very much like to know how 🫡

Jk, here be the tags:

#bee writes some stuff - my micros, my flash fics, my text posts

#bee plays some games - tag games !! which i have never played before till now !!

#bee does some prompts - this will definitely see the light of day… someday

#bee stalking some writers - what it says on the tin

#bee answers some asks - omg i only added this because someone actually sent me one *faints*

#bee saves some stuff - there are way too many resource posts that i’ve scrolled past cuz idk how to tag

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writer introduction #hello world!

90 notes · View notes

its-mysleepover · 2 years

Text

Backstage

idol!Yoongi x female!idol!Reader

genre: smut, established relationship

warnings: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex(don’t be silly wrap your willy), maybe public sex if you squint

word count: 2.7k

Summary: Inspired by the little video of Yoongi that this picture originates from. You’ve just performed your debut song at an end-of-year awards show, and your performance was a jaw-dropping, sexy performance that the crowd went wild for. When you head backstage to get changed, your boyfriend Yoongi intercepts you with other ideas in mind.

Author’s note: This is one of the first smutty one-shots I ever wrote, please be gentle :,)

Don’t be a silent reader <3 if you enjoy my work, plz consider giving a reblog or commenting :) and follow for new fics

~~~~~~~~~~

Cheers erupted from the sea of audience members as you hit your final pose and the spotlight went out on you, leaving your elegant silhouette stark against the scarlet lights behind you.

With no one able to see your face, you let yourself smile and try to catch your breath, even as your heart was pounding wildly against your chest and sweat was beginning to drip down your neck. You’d spent so much time perfecting your debut album, and the leading title track, where you’d stepped out of your comfort zone to sing and learn a sensual song and dance. And now, a few days before New Year’s, you were standing center stage with confetti falling over your hot, scantily-clad skin, with an arena full of people screaming for you, and you felt fucking fantastic.

One beat passed, then another, and even though the crowd was still going, you knew it was your time to exit once the spotline shone down on you once again. Quickly, you bowed, over and over, and waved to as many people as you could before you hurried backstage to make way for the next act. As soon as you stepped in, someone handed you a water bottle and patted your shoulder, congratulating you on the stellar performance. You thanked them, but immediately set off down the mostly empty hallway down to your dressing room. You were riding on an exhilarating wave of pride and excitement, and now that your audience was out of sight, you wanted to get dressed and wait for when you could meet with the one other person you wanted to share this moment with.

You reached the door with your name scribbled on a little sticker in the center, and turned the knob, and hardly stepped inside the brightly lit room before you were suddenly being pushed inside. The door shut and locked behind you.

“What the-” Hands that’d shoved you inside before grabbed your waist and spun you around, and there he was holding you. Yoongi. Breathless and already leaning in to press his lips against yours.

You kissed him back, but then placed your hands on his chest and leaned back slightly, giggling when you saw him try to once again capture your lips in his. You were still slowly coming down from the high that you’d just been on.

“Hey, I was just coming to find you!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, teasing the edges of his hair, and he pulled you closer. “What did you think?” you asked giddily.

Yoongi smirked. “What did I think?” His grip tightened, and before you could process it, he had you pressed up against the concrete wall next to your vanity, the cold seeping through your thin clothes. Then he shifted, and suddenly, with his hardened bulge pressing right up against you through the fabric you both wore, you became very aware of what exactly he wanted. What effect you had on him.

He pressed himself closer to you and started pressing slow, gentle kisses against the side of your neck, starting at your collarbone and moving up to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You sighed and gripped his hair, unconsciously tilting your head to give him more access.

“God baby, I’m so fucking proud of you,” he whispered lowly right in your ear, “But do you know what it was like having to sit in that audience? Listening to you sing with that sexy voice of yours about what we do in bed?” He bit your earlobe and you bit back a moan as you felt yourself soaking your panties. Yoongi knew exactly what you liked, what made you tick. Both of you did.

“You know what it was like having to watch you grind against the air for everyone?” And just as the words left him, you gripped his shoulder and grinded down on his bulge, and he moaned right next to your ear. He moved away from your neck to face you again.

“Did you want me grinding against you instead?” You asked teasingly, your voice lowering ever so slightly. He opened his mouth to respond, but stopped as you moved your finger to trace his lips with the tip of your polished nail. “Or were you hoping we’d do something else?”

“Only if you want to.” A sensitive glint passed through in his eyes, almost a stark contrast to the hungry way he was looking at you before.

A moment passed, both of you looking at each other with your lips parted and your breaths mingling together. Then you pulled Yoongi down to you and crashed your mouth to his, and both of you let go of any restraint you’d had.

His hands flew down to grab your thighs, squeezing once in a silent ask before you jumped up and wrapped yourself around his strong waist. Your fingers tangled in his brown hair once again as you kissed him with everything you had, licking his lips so you could slip your tongue into his mouth. Yoongi rolled his hips into yours and let out a guttural moan into his mouth.

You kept kissing each other, deep and hot with tongues twisting around each other, while rolling your hips together and getting some kind of friction. But then you felt Yoongi’s hand move from underneath your thigh to the edge of your black shorts, slowly moving his fingers towards the black zipper. He began unzipping your shorts. Without breaking the kiss, you dropped to your feet again and he quickly pulled down your shorts and underwear, exposing your bare pussy to the cold of the room. A shiver ran down your back.

Reluctantly, Yoongi separated from you, a thin trail of saliva connecting your lips. “I only have a thirty minute break, so we don’t have too much time left.” He cupped your face with one hand, with such a loving look in his eyes for the sexual tension between you two. “I’ll still do something for you though,” he rasped. And he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Yeah?” You breathed, the words escaping you. All you could focus on was Yoongi’s lips now pressing against the inside of your thigh, his tongue poking out and almost licking your skin, as he made his way up to your now-throbbing pussy. Yoongi brushed his hair back and looked up at you with a knowing grin. “All this because of me?”

“You know damn well it’s because of you,” you laughed lightly, but it turned into a whiney moan when you felt Yoongi’s lips wrapping around your clit, giving a tight suck.

“You won’t be laughing now baby,” he whispered right against you, before leaning further and trailing his tongue through your wet folds before landing on your clit again, licking it reverently. His hands trailed up from your thighs and gripped your ass cheeks as he moved to sucking again, and he used the grip he had on you to bring you impossibly closer to his mouth. You moaned loudly and uncontrollably, not caring if anyone heard since you knew the halls outside would be rid of people.

You were sweating at this point, trying not to grind into Yoongi’s mouth and chase your slowly building orgasm. Yoongi let go of your clit, and you were about to look down and scold him before you felt his tongue sticking out again, sliding against you and teasing your entrance, before shoving his tongue into your core.

“Fuck!” You moaned and couldn’t help but start moving against Yoongi’s tongue, feeling the muscle go taut inside you. You could feel your climax building rapidly, your walls pulsating around his tongue. You kept grinding onto him, so close to release, and then one of Yoongi’s hands let go of your ass and flew to your clit, his finger rubbing slow circles.

“I’m coming- fuck!” Your orgasm hit you hard, a wave of pleasure washing over you and your knees buckling. You felt Yoongi smile against your core, and gripping your legs, he kept going, trying to help you through your orgasm, but all it did was make you hungry for more.

Your hands flew down, one to his wrist and one to his hair, and you tugged on both. Yoongi stopped his ministrations and looked up at you, and you had to try to not get distracted by the wetness glistening on his lips.

“Get up,” you demanded. Yoongi smirked and heeded, and once he was at eye level, you grabbed his face with both hands and slammed your mouth to his in a heated kiss. He reciprocated immediately, slipping his tongue in your mouth. Your hands went down to his neck and collarbone, and you started backing him into the leather couch on the other side of the room, stepping out of your forgotten shorts and panties as you went. Yoongi knew exactly what you were doing and didn’t protest, his hands moving all over you, from the bare skin of your midriff to your ass to your still-covered breasts.

The back of his knees hit the couch with a thud, and without warning, you pulled away and pushed him down. Yoongi smiled salaciously up at you, his hands immediately grasping your hips when you went to straddle him, naked from the waist down. Yoongi’s eyes raked down your body, and a warm feeling bloomed inside you at the reminder that he saw you as such a beautiful being.

“We don’t have a lot of time, Y/N,” he whispered reluctantly. He moved his hands up to your breasts, brushing his fingers over the fabric in a way that seemed like he wanted to tear it off you. You glanced at the clock mounted on the wall, even though you had no idea when he’d come in here and how long it’d been. Yoongi’s warm hand reached up to tilt your head back to him in silent question. In response, you reached down and your palm met his bulge, Yoongi’s mouth opened in a silent gasp.

“We can be quick,” you promised. Without a second thought, Yoongi pulled you to him and kissed you again and again, and you started working on his jeans, unzipping them and pulling them down ever so slightly. His hands were still grasping your waist and hair when your hand wrapped around the base of his rock hard cock, and Yoongi groaned, biting your lip. You pulled out his dick, and Yoongi leaned back to watch your hand wrap around the base. Knowing you couldn’t draw this out as long as you wanted to, you started quickly pumping up and down Yoongi’s long cock, and he started keening to you instantly. Suddenly, his hips thrust up to meet your hand and he groaned. “Get on me now, please!” He begged.

Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly and you let him hold onto your hips and position you over his throbbing cock. Carefully, you settled yourself down onto him, both of you moaning when he bottomed out. Yoongi grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled you down to kiss you just once, which you barely got to reciprocate before he let go and his hands traveled down your torso, squeezed your ass, and moved to grip your hips tight enough to bruise. You shivered at the way he licked his lips when glancing at where you two connected. He looked up at you. “You ready baby?” You nodded and squeezed his shoulders.

Yoongi thrust up into you and you moaned, his long dick barely grazing your g-spot. He took full control with no signs of letting up, continuously thrusting into your wet pussy and moaning in unison with you, his deep voice a stark contrast to the wet slapping noises filling the room.

You were getting close, already sensitive from your previous orgasm. You whined as Yoongi slowed down ever so slightly. When you looked down at him, his lips parted and panting, he locked his eyes to yours and held your gaze as one hand left your hip and circled back to your front. You watched as his thumb set itself on your clit and started rubbing in circles, and immediately you cried out and felt yourself climbing closer to the edge. Yoongi was still watching you, and without a word, you started bouncing yourself on his cock and he hissed. The two of you stayed like that for a while longer; you riding him and chasing your orgasm, your head tilted as you whined and moaned Yoongi’s name, and Yoongi with one hand focused on your clit and the other on your hip, him chanting your name like a fucking prayer.

“Yoongi, I’m so close!” You almost shouted, trying to hold yourself back since there were still a handful of people outside.

“I know baby - me too,” he groaned, his movements getting rushed and sloppy. You could feel the knot in your stomach on the verge of unraveling, you were so close to getting what you wanted and you rode Yoongi as hard as you could chasing your high. He circled your clit once more and you snapped.

“Yoongi!” You fell forward, your head on his shoulder and you shut your eyes for a moment. You were suddenly very aware of how sweaty Yoongi was under his top, how your pussy kept squeezing his dick tightly and how his hands held onto your hips as he thrust up once, twice, three times before he shouted your name and you felt his hot cum coating your walls. Lazily, you kept moving your hips above him, trying to get every last drop out of him. When Yoongi let out an unusually high-pitched whine, you leaned up again and faced him. His face was red and sweaty, but the smile he gave you now was so full of love. Both of you leaned in and pecked each other on the lips, before you carefully used his shoulders as a balance again and lifted up off his softened dick, collapsing next to him on the couch. You were still looking at each other, trying to catch your breath, when you caught sight of the clock behind Yoongi.

“Yoongi,” you inquired softly, “when were you supposed to be back?”

His eyes widened in panic and he whipped his head to look behind him. “Shit!” he cried. Yoongi hopped off the couch and scrambled to zip his jeans back up. You couldn’t even lift a finger to help before he had his belt through the loops and was trying to buckle it while making his way to the door. Though you weren’t in that much of a rush since you were exhausted and it hadn’t hit yet why he needed to be back so soon.

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob, then looked back at you laying on the couch with an innocent-looking grin as you stared up at him.

“I promise you, when this whole thing is over, we’re going to get home and I will congratulate you properly. I love you!” He smiled at you sheepishly, then yanked the door open without a second look back.

“I love you!” You shouted back before the door closed on its own. You could hear Yoongi’s pounding footsteps echoing through the hall, and couldn’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all.

You leaned back on the couch and sighed, taking in the quiet of the room. You were coming down from your high and you were exhausted, but so relaxed. Then you spotted your discarded shorts and panties on the other side of the room, and you decided you could put on the tight clothing one more time tonight for a quick check-in.

Quickly, you stepped over the pile and slid on your bottoms. You then left the dressing room and sped through the same hallway you heard Yoongi run down, grateful for the fact that there didn’t seem to be any staff or crew around this area.

Just as you reached the entrance to the idols’ section of the audience, you spotted Yoongi sitting with the rest of the band, and noticed how he tried to discreetly tuck his striped shirt back into his pants while the rest of the crowd was clapping for someone. You smiled at knowing the effect you had on him, unaware of the camera that had also seen and captured Yoongi’s moment.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader smut #yoongi smut #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x y/n smut #idol!yoongi #idol!yoongi x idol!reader #idol! yoongi x idol! reader #bts smut #idol yoongi x idol reader #idol yoongi smut #yoongi one shot #yoongi smut one shot #min Yoongi #min Yoongi fic #min Yoongi smut #bts one shot #bts x reader #bts x reader smut

864 notes · View notes

harrysfolklore · 2 years

Note

an ig concept with suki waterhouse

the first tour blurb is here! i loved doing blurbs for each show last year so i’m happy harry is back on the road, enjoy!

IF YOU LIKE WHAT I POST PLEASE CONSIDER SUPPORTING ME

ask me anything | masterlist | likes and reblogs are appreciated !

liked by gemmastyles, waseem and 60,435 others

yourinstagram tour starts very soon !!!!

view all 8,625 comments

harryfan1 I KNOWWWW

harryfan2 bestieee can you make harry keep she on the setlist?

↳ yourinstagram that’s jeffrey azoff’s job i’m just here to be a pretty rockstar gf

↳ harryfan3 SHES SO REAL I WANT TO BE HER

gemmastyles ❤️❤️

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 5,976 others

harryupdates Harry arriving in Glasgow for his show on Saturday !

view all 704 comments

harryfan1 BABYYYY

harryfan2 tour is really soon i’m so excited

harryfan3 is the embroider jacket for me

harryfan4 my hubby

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 6,093 others

harryupdates First look at the stage and merch for Harry’s Glasgow shows via @yourinstagram’s instagram stories !

view all 1,076 comments

harryfan1 OMGGGG

harryfan2 i’m so excited about tour you have no idea

harrysatellitebestie @yourinstagram spare some tickets for this poor soul? 👐

↳ yourinstagram dm me

↳ harryfan1 OMGGGG YOU’RE SO LUCKY AND SHES THE BEST

liked by harryupdates, yourinstagram and 10,782 others

harrysatellite THANK YOU @yourinstagram WE’LL NEVER FORGET THIS

view all 3,976 comments

harryfan1 OMFGGG CONGRATS

harryupdates Congratulations ❤️❤️

harryfan2 omg yn is really the best, she always does this kind of stuff for harries

yourinstagram enjoy the show 🥰

↳ harrysatellite we don’t deserve you

liked by harrystyles, jefezoff and 62,098 others

yourinstagram back on my rockstar girlfriend activities #loveontourgasglow

view all 8,954 comments

harryfan1 AN ICON

harryfan2 she’s all i want to be

annetwist Have fun ❤️

harrystyles Heyyyy, I’m the rockstar x

↳ yourinstagram whatever you say big guy

↳ harryfan2 BEST COUPLE EVER

liked by harryfan1, harryfan2 and 6,097 others

harryupdates Harry on stage tonight !

view all 1,064 comments

harryfan1 HE LOOKS SO GOOD

harryfan2 he looks like a minion

harryfan3 BABYYYY

harryfan4 i can’t wait for my show

liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 63,107 others

yourinstagram stadium shows baby !! i’m sooo proud of you, h 🥺 watching you grow over the years and achieve every single one of your dreams has been the best gift life has given me, here’s to so many more milestones by your side, i love you 🤍

view all 8,825 comments

harryfan1 THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL

jefezoff 🥺

harryfan2 she’s such a good girlfriend

harrystyles Thank you for being here. I love you ❤️

↳ harryfan2 THE EMOJI I FEEL WEAK

↳ harryfan3 he’s so whipped

liked by lookitsnyoh, yourinstagram and 2,160,909 others

harrystyles Love On Tour. Glasgow. June, 2022.

view all 89,072 comments

harryfan1 BEST SHOW EVER

harryfan2 BABYYYY

harris_reed Little ball of light ✨

yourinstagram that’s my boyfriend

yourinstagram he’s hot

↳ harryfan1 OKAY GIRL DONT BRAG

↳ harryfan2 i feel dizzy

taglist: @cucciolafaerie @maria-r @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches @golden-hoax @alienorknight @evanjh @daydreamingofmatilda @sunflowervolume66 @lollypopsx @multiplums @89evrs @trulymadlykiki @piscesrecord @vanteguccir @ivyproblems @ivegotparticulartaste @springholland @harryhoney-bee @harrysgloves @ayeshathestyles @comfort-reads @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation n @sleutherclaw @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @alyxisacrybaby @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @leadmetogarden

805 notes · View notes

neowinestainedress · 2 years

Text

la dolce vita

title: la dolce vita | part of the “All’s well that ends well series*” you DON’T have to read it all, if you want more context for this part (mostly for the dynamics switch) it’s enough to read ‘under summer sky*’, either way, just know that they are ALL in a polyamorous relationship

pairing: jeong jaehyun x oc x suh johnny x lee taeyong x nakamoto yuta

genre: smut, fluff (if you squint), established relationship, polyamorous relationship, slice of life, non-idol au

summary: Jaehyun had a plan; a romantic night together during their romantic summer trip to Procida… but the night took a wild, unexpected, turn. Or where Jade’s dream finally comes true.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, sex with multiple partners, fivesome, (mostly) femdom, power play, handjob, rim job (m), spitting, sensory deprivation (blindfold, tied up), minor cockwarming, anal fingering, degradation (kinda heavy), praise kink, minor use of mommy, use of (fucktoy, doll, petnames | m), dumbification, dollification, orgasm denial/control, edging, triple penetration (f receiving), pegging, mentions of free use, minor chocking, overstimulation, dom!oc, dom!johnny, dom!yuta, switch!taeyong, dom to sub!jaehyun, aftercare, dubcon (it’s just Jaehyun being his usual proud self with a sparkle of new-found brattiness but I’ll tag it for safety reasons bc at the start he acts like he doesn’t want that even though it’s more fighting for dominance than not wanting it. they have a safeword and the thought of using it never crosses his mind and there are a lot of check-ins. things get heated toward the end and it’s a little more intense than my usual stuff, so if you think it may trigger you, don’t read it)

words: 16.295k

a/n: peach boy gets ruined by all of them, I imagined something softer but it completely went downhill and… you’ll see. It’s very Jaehyun-centered because I wrote this to fill my need for sub-Jaehyun so please don’t come at me and say that the others don’t have enough spotlight. I wanted this to be part of this series because I feel that the way he lets go completely can only fit in their relationship. I plan on writing more about them (check here* and fill the form if you have anything you want me to write). Anyway, I hope you'll like it, please, let me know what you think with comments, reblogs or asks, for more support consider donating here*.

* i can't add the links or else it doesn't show up in the tags but you find everything on my account

6 months before.

“Are you saying that he won’t find me hot?” Jade huffed, lolling her head back to rest on Johnny’s shoulder while her feet, at the end of the bathtub, played with the water, making it spill.

Johnny sighed, hand caressing her scalp slowly, and then said, “I’m just saying that you know he won’t let you do it.”

A pout formed on her face, eyebrows knitted, and lips sealed together. “But why not? He never had problems doing it with you while you were away, right? Why would it be different with me?”

A light chuckle rolled out of his lips, “Trust me, we did it just once and we bickered for almost an hour to decide who was going to top. It’s just not his cup of tea, anymore,” Johnny explained, moving around to still be comfortable in the tub. Mentally damning Taeyong that was locked in their big bathroom since an hour ago and now they were stuck in this where he barely fit. “Honestly, I don’t think it ever was. We all know he never bottomed in his life.”

“But there’s always a first time,” she complained, turning around to face her boyfriend. “And technically it’s not even the first.”

Johnny inhaled deeply at the amount of water that splashed on the floor and then stared at her pleading eyes. “You don’t have to convince me with those eyes, but him.”

She batted her lashes again, “Are you sure you don’t want to try?”

He threw his head back and shook it, “It’s not being pegged the problem, you know damn well I won’t last a second as a sub, and we also know that you want to dominate him, not only top him.”

Jade rolled her eyes and crossed her arms on her chest, trying to keep her body up only with her thighs. “Fine, you’re right.”

“So?”

“So, what? You’re telling me that there’s nothing I can do to convince him, what can I do?”

“You’re the one that knows him better,” Johnny retorted, rubbing circles on her waist.

“You were his best friend since he was born, he must have told you something, confessed if he was into it or not. I just want to know if it’s a red flag or an orange one.”

Johnny furrowed, “An orange flag?”

“If he’s at least willing to try, you know?”

“Like a safe word?”

“Yes, but no. Yuta and I use it when he wants to try something new. If I’m uncomfortable with the idea it’s red, if I never thought to be into it, but I’d like to try it, it’s orange.”

Johnny cocked his head to the side, “You two are weirder than I thought but it makes sense somehow. So, why don’t you ask him?”

Her eyes went wide as she frenetically shook her head. “No, no way. I wanted to surprise him, but I need to at least know that he won’t turn me down. It’s just going to be embarrassing if something like that happens.”

“Wait,” Johnny said, eyebrow furrowed while he was finally connecting the dot, “for his birthday and valentine’s day?” He exclaimed. “Oh, Lord no. Forget it, baby, just forget about it.”

She whined, throwing her head back and shaking him from the shoulders. “But why?”

“What do you mean why? Our birthdays are our days, it’s part of the gifts, deciding what to do, being in command and everything. And you want him, Jaehyun, to be a sub on his day. It seems like you don’t know him.”

“But it would be just for the night,” she retorted, leaning against his forehead. “Please.”

“I’m not him.”

She smirked, pulling back again, and tilting her head to the side, “But you could plant the idea in his head,” she sang with a sly smile on her face.

“But why me? Why would he listen to me out of all of us? Maybe Taeyong could convince him.”

“No, you’re the only one that can keep up with him. And also, he’s never afraid to try new things with you, so…” she pouted, with pleading eyes batting at him.

Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly, “I hate you.”

She laughed before kissing him passionately, “And I love you, and even more if this goes where I want it to go.”

“You know it’s hard, right? Almost impossible? And that I’m doing it just because I love you.”

She furrowed, “I thought I just heard you say you hated me a few seconds ago.”

“I hate how easy it is for you to convince me,” he glared at her playfully before pulling her in another kiss. “But,” he started when they pulled back, “if he says no, don’t be too let down, okay?”

“I won’t,” she promised. “But I don’t want you to tell him what I want to do.”

“I know,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, the bright ginger of the freshly done dye looked incredibly good on her. “Also, remember that if it’s a strict no, I think it will be just for the sub thing, not the pegging.”

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know, but anyway, let’s see what I can do.”

“God,” Johnny groaned, scrolling through the Netflix catalogue, trying to find something to watch. He and Jaehyun were at home that afternoon. Jade and Yuta were at work, and Taeyong was sleeping in his room, tired after a night fixing things for his brand launch and then school in the morning. “There’s nothing to watch.”

On the other side of the couch, Jaehyun laughed, mindlessly scrolling through a social media Johnny couldn’t tell apart, “You’re just picky, Suh.”

“No, I’m not,” the older retorted, lifting his legs on the chaise part of the L-shaped sofa. “We’ve seen everything.”

Jaehyun rolled his eyes and crawled closer to him, cuddling up in his arms. “It’s impossible with all the things that are here. You’re picky, and not curious. Try new things.”

Johnny chuckled, “I should try new things? And what about you? When was the last time you did that?” Now, that wasn’t how Johnny wanted to bring the topic up, and it was probably also going to be complicated to make this conversation sexual, but he was glad Jaehyun helped him with that.

Jaehyun shrugged, “This is not about me, it’s about you.”

“You can’t lecture me if you’re not on the right track.”

The younger huffed, throwing his head back, “Fine, I don’t know. Maybe when we eat snails in France?”

Johnny made a disgusted expression at the memory and then nodded. “Okay, and then? It was almost two years ago.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widened, “Two years already?”

“Yes, love. Time flies when you stay in your comfort zone.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear,” Jaehyun glared at him. “When you dragged me to the indoor rock climbing site last summer. Never done that before.”

“And in our relationship?” Johnny tried his luck, raising a brow at him, but that only made him frown.

“What do you mean? Am I not giving you enough? Wait, are you tired of me?”

Johnny shook his head swiftly, “God, no, why are you so paranoid? That’s not what I meant,” he reassured him, intertwining their hands to make him calm down. “I was hinting at something else.”

Jaehyun was still confused, not getting how, out of all relationships, theirs could get any more adventurous and out of the schemes.

“When was the last time you tried something new in bed, Jay?”

“Are you calling me boring? I thought we had fun. God, is this a talk to send me to a couple-sex therapist?”

Johnny rolled his eyes, “No, Jae. I was teasing and asking you to unleash for a second and go beyond. There must be something we’ve never tried before that you want to do,” he said, looking at him. “A secret fantasy, something you were just too afraid to say, or too ashamed to admit.”

Jaehyun’s face heat up as different thoughts crossed his mind.

Johnny chuckled, caressing Jaehyun’s red cheek, “So, pretty boy?”

“Don’t call me that,” he barked back, glaring at him.

“But you are, though.”

“I’m not Taeyong, I don’t like being called that,” he said, crossing his arms on his chest. Johnny shrugged, feeling he was lying since he somehow reddened more than before.

“You didn’t answer,” Johnny reminded him, hands trailing on his thigh. “Just one thing you always wanted to do.”

Jaehyun gulped and then stared at him, “Yes, there’s one thing I want to try.”

Johnny couldn’t plant that idea in his mind, and the thing he wanted to try wasn’t that.

But Jade kept tiptoeing around it for months with jokes and trying to act dominant in front of him but instead of affecting Jaehyun it only lead to Taeyong crawling to her and begging to get fucked instead. And of course, it wasn’t a problem, but she still couldn’t get the idea out of her mind. And she knew that trying to start something – especially like this – without talking first was a dumb move but the worst thing he could do was laugh at her face and say no, right?

So when the holidays finally approached, she decided that that was the right moment to try. She didn’t have a plan, but she felt that luck was on her side and somehow it was going to happen.

“Have you seen the view from here?” Taeyong exclaimed when they walked into the hotel room in Procida. They were close to the sea but could see the houses’ bright colours and the little streets leading to the port. “This is so pretty,” he said in awe, turning around as Jade walked to his side on the terrace.

“How do you always choose the best places?”

Jaehyun smiled, hugging her from behind. “I have my secrets,” he winked.

“Yeah, it’s not like we spent nights up going crazy to look for what we wanted,” Yuta chimed in, wrapping his arm around Taeyong.

“As always I have to carry everything and y’all are having cuddles time,” Johnny complained when he entered the room with some bags and saw them.

“Come here, babe, we were just enjoying the view,” Jade said, turning around and opening her arms to welcome him in.

“Mhh, that’s better,” he hummed against her hair.

The following days passed normally, walking around town, visiting the suburb of Marina di Coricella that was close to their hotel, or Terra Murata, drinking too much espresso and lemonade, spending entire days at the beach, playing table football with teenagers that were way too good at it, dancing until late to local music playing in the bars and enjoying the beautiful sunsets from the Belvedere dei due Cannoni.

“I’m going to go back home with so much more weight on,” Jade joked, patting her stomach after she finished the plate of spaghetti with clams after they also decided to eat pizza (it was going to be hard to go back to eat the pizza hut one).

“You’d look amazing either way,” Yuta said, smiling at her, moving a strand of her light brown hair behind her ears, the ginger dye had faded and Taeyong had helped her go back to a normal brown before they left for the holidays.

“Yeah, and it’s also absolutely worth it,” Johnny added, pointing at the empty plates on the table. He had never eaten so much fish in his whole life.

“I just can’t stop eating, everything’s so good,” she said. “I even accepted uncooked shrimps, God, Italians will make me do anything.” The day before they went to the market, just to take a look around and a fisherman stopped her and made her try them, telling her he had spent the whole night out and they were fresh.

“Enjoyed dancing with that man, yesterday?” Johnny joked, raising a brow.

She laughed, “Shut up, he was so nice, though,” she said, smiling softly. The night before they went to a different restaurant that also had a live band and a small dancefloor, nothing wild like a disco, just acoustic music and vibes, and a man that could’ve been her grandad asked her if they could dance together to one song, and then they ended up dancing to five.

“He told me I reminded him of his granddaughter, at least that’s what I could understand,” she chuckled at the memory of him showing her his granddaughter pictures and how much he missed her since she went study abroad. Now, Italian people over 40 weren’t the best at English but somehow they always had a way to make people understand what they wanted to say. And also, of course, knowing they were going on a holiday there, she had to try to dust off the few things she knew about the language and learn more with Duolingo threatening her life if she didn’t take lessons for once.

“That’s cute, I thought he was going to take you home,” Taeyong joked.

She rolled her eyes, “I can dance with you all the time you want, let an old man have fun for once.”

“For once that they’re not creepy as fuck,” Yuta said, shrugging.

“Y’all are so jealous, God,” she rolled her eyes, huffing loudly.

“You were beautiful, though,” Jaehyun said, a smile curling his lips. “Sundresses look good on you.”

“And even better on the floor,” Taeyong added, winking at her.

“Yong, what the hell! Why are you so horny these days?”

“Because you always look better in summer, I have a kink for summer you.

They all laughed at that and then Jade said, “I can’t stand you.”

“Well, should we pay and then head back?” Johnny proposed. “So Taeyong can make his dream come true.”

“Who decided that? I think we did it more than enough,” Jade joked but stood up anyway.

“As if you can say no to me,” Taeyong teased, tickling her, making her laugh.

“Fine, fine,” she gave up, “but we’re passing to the gelateria before.”

“Yes, babe,” Yuta said, intertwining their arms, waiting for Johnny outside while he went to the cashier to pay.

After the gelato, they got back to their hotel room to a surprise.

“Wow, what’s this?” Jade asked as she looked around in awe.

“A little thing I set up,” Jaehyun said with a smirk on his face. “I think we needed something extremely romantic.”

“Wow,” they gasped in unison. The bed had satin sheets, and there was a path of roses petals that led to it, while some candles lit up the room and filled it with a fresh aroma. And it wasn’t a human-planned thing but the sunset was setting and coloured the room with a beautiful shade of pink while the wind blew the white curtains shielding them from the outer world and the waves crashed against the shore.

“Didn’t expect something so romantic,” Yuta mumbled as he looked around.

“Wanted to celebrate being together.”

“We are always together,” Johnny whispered under his breath, only getting heard by Taeyong that giggled.

“Mh, and what do you want to do pretty boy?” Jade teased, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“What’s with this thing of calling me pretty boy? Stop it,” he replied. “By the way, just look better around,” he smirked, pulling away from the hug.

She huffed but then did as told, even though she couldn’t see anything else.

“Hey, babe,” Johnny called. “Look here.”

She moved her head to stare in the direction where he was pointing and gasped when she saw the things on the bed. She turned back to him with her mouth open and confusion written on her face. “These things?” She asked, turning again to let her hand run on the blindfold and the handcuffs. “You didn’t make somebody set this up for us, right?”

“Part of the surprise,” Jaehyun explained reaching behind her. “And why do you think I pushed you out before me when we left for dinner?”

She smirked and then turned around, “And what are they for?”

“You.”

She snickered and then turned around, facing him. “But it was your idea, why don’t we make it about you?”

Jaehyun laughed straight at her face, but when no smile crept on her face, he coughed.

“Oh, you are serious?”

“Super serious.”

He snickered, rolling his eyes. “Are you doing this again? ” He asked, smirking. “You won’t make me submit, so just forget about it, honey.”

“Are you sure about it?” She asked, clicking her tongue, with no intention of backing up in her tone and posture.

Jaehyun chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. Maybe it would’ve been fun to try reversing parts. A part of him bubbled the few times he saw her taking control with Taeyong but he wasn’t sure he could carry through. That just wasn’t where he was used to being.

“What? Afraid you can’t take it? Afraid you can’t take me?”

“It won’t work,” he warned but she simply smirked and ran a hand up his chest until it reached his neck and grazed it slowly and gently, making him gulp and shiver. She was getting what she wanted that night, she knew Jaehyun was going to fall. He had to have a small weakness that could put him on his knees just for her.

“Are you sure?” She taunted, cocking her head to the side with a sly smirk on her face. “Because I think it’s working already.” She raised a leg and let her knee brush against his hardening dick, making him blush.

Jaehyun shook his head and took a step back. No, that wasn’t what he had planned that night.

She chuckled and then walked close to him again, not letting him breathe. “What’s wrong, baby boy? Already imaging all the things I could do to you?”

Jaehyun snickered, and then cupped her chin, “Wrong. Thinking about all the things I’m going to do to you.”

She rolled her eyes and then palmed his boner, squeezing just enough to make him groan between their rough kiss. “Or you could sit there and enjoy it. I think you deserve to be the centre of attention after you booked this amazing holiday for us.” Her fingers wrapped around his hair and pulled his head back under the curious eyes of the others that were watching the scene in anticipation. None of them truly believed she was going to make him submit, that just wasn’t Jaehyun–like, but it was still fun seeing how far she was going to try.

Her lips crashed against his neck leaving open-mouthed kisses while her hold in his hair never loosened, making him moan lowly.

“Good boy,” she praised, pulling away but still holding his head in place, he tried to fight it but when she let go and his eyes fell on her, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to fight it back. Maybe this was going to be fun. Maybe a secret part of him wanted to try it out. They could’ve always stopped, right? But his pride wasn’t going to make him admit it so soon.

“Don’t call me that,” he retorted, coughing to try to hide how shaky his voice was.

She snickered and grabbed his tie while walking backwards toward the bed. “What are you doing?” He asked when she pushed him down on the edge of the mattress and started taking off his shirt. She raised a brow, “It seems pretty obvious? Taking these off so you can have all eyes on you.”

“I don’t like it, I don’t want to be the centre of attention,” he complained, trying to hide the red shade on his face.

She scoffed, “Please, you’re a model. You live for attention, Jae. You love having all eyes on you. People running after you. People behind a screen craving to touch you. And you love it. You thrive on set. How can you don’t have a good time… here,” she whispered, voice low and sultry, while her hands travelled on his body soft like a feather and made him shiver.

“Fuck,” he cursed, as low as possible, but everybody heard it. And the others were actually surprised at how frustrated he looked now.

“You know I’m going to make you feel good, I always do,” she said, tugging her fingers in his boxer and pulling them down, freeing his already hard cock. “Look at how hard your pretty cock is already. Is it for me?” She cooed, lifting his chin up to make him stare at her.

But Jaehyun didn’t answer, he simply stared at her and gulped. He moved his head to look at his other partners but she firmly blocked him and made him stare at her.

“On me, baby. Eyes on me. I asked you a question. I have you in the palm of my hands.”

Jaehyun scoffed, “No, you don’t – fuck,” he gasped when she pulled his hair again but more harshly than before.

“Answer me,” she ordered, voice low against his ear. “Are you this hard just for me?”

Jaehyun closed his eyes and then mumbled, “Yes – yes, just for you.”

“Good,” she said letting go of his hair and then taking a step back, just to admire him. And Jaehyun felt his face heat up. The way they were all looking at him, the way she didn’t even start and he already felt weak, the fact that wasn’t the night he had in mind when he planned this. But then his eyes found the courage to look up at her and he knew there was no point trying to pretend he didn’t want this. She looked so hot in that sundress, thin enough to almost be seethrough, the light make-up highlighting her natural beauty, her curls framing her face, and the new aura surrounding her got him on his knees.

A smile curled her lips almost as if she could sense his trail of thoughts. She leaned closer to him, coming face to face with him and caressed his cheek. “Do you want me to take care of you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

And she was expecting him to give in, but instead, he snickered, “As if you could do that.”

She pulled back a little, raising a brow and tilting her head, “Oh, really? Now I don’t know how to make you feel good?”

He nodded, “Not like this, not like you want to. You’re too kind to do what I have in mind.”

“Oh,” she breathed out, chuckling lightly, “then why don’t you tell me what you have in mind, baby boy?”

“Stop calling me that,” he barked back.

“I saw your cock throb, though. I think that your body loves to go in a different direction than your little brain,” she teased. “Anyway, what did you want to do?”

“I wanted to tie you up against the bed, and then blindfold you and tease you all night and see you have all of us on you.”

“Oh, that must be something hard to do,” she mocked, squeezing his chin, “think I can’t do that? Think I can’t fuck you hard all night?”

“Fu-fuck me?” he chuckled, panic in his voice, and eyes looking around the room where the others were staring with a smirk on their faces.

“I’m just following your plans,” she said, letting her other hand creep down and move up and down on his cock making him gasp.

“Don’t do that,” he muttered through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut, breath already faltering, trying to squeeze his thighs.

“Oh, or what? Are you going to come like this?”

Jaehyun glared at her, and his hand moved to touch her between her legs but, letting go of his chin, she blocked him easily. Taeyong, Yuta and Johnny looked at each other with raised brows, he could’ve easily pushed her off, all he had to do was stand up and hoist her up, so why wasn’t he doing that?

“Are you pushing me off?”

“I’m taking care of you, now,” she said, pushing him down on the mattress, straddling him and kissing him again while her hand started moving faster, making his chest rise up and down heavily. And when breathy moans started to spill out of his mouth, she smirked, pulling away from him and standing up, “I’ll ask just once,” she said, looking down at him, “do you want me to take care of you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

And Jaehyun simply nodded, trying to push up to kiss her lips, it was just to come and then she would’ve given up this whole thing and he could’ve done what he had planned all night long. Or at least, that was his second plan for the night.

The other three looked at each other in shock. What had just happened? Was that just a trick to make her believe he was going to let her do what she wanted just to flip the roles when she lowered the guard or did she really manage to make Jaehyun submit to her?

“Good boy,” she praised after she kissed him briefly and then encouraged him to move against the headboard of the bed.

“Are you tying me?” He asked, gulping, watching carefully as she kicked away the shoes and then crawled on the bed next to him manoeuvring the handcuffs.

“Isn’t that what you wanted? You prepared all of this, right?”

“I… well, I didn’t imagine,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze because the truth was that when she was like this she was so fucking hot and he stood no games, she did have him in the palm of her hand and he wasn’t so sure he wanted to gain control again that night.

“Getting shy?” Johnny asked, finally deciding to chime in. He wasn’t going to just look at the show from the sidelines but he was just waiting for the right moment to don’t scare him away. Jaehyun was hard to ease into things he never tried before and Johnny didn’t want to be the reason why Jade’s opportunity to do something like this slipped away.

Jaehyun’s face burned red at the sudden realization that they were all there and they could’ve all done anything with him. It was exciting, a little bit scary, but exciting.

“Maybe you should blindfold him,” Yuta proposed, grabbing the black piece of fabric that still sat on the edge of the bed and handing it to Jade. “It’s funny having no idea of what’s going on around you. Makes the anticipation grow.”

Jaehyun gulped. Well, yes, that was the reason why he wanted sensory deprivation to be the main theme of the night but at the same time, he never pictured himself there. He wanted his partners to trust him enough to have their senses lowered.

“What? Can’t take your own game?” Taeyong teased, sitting at the end of the bed.

“I can, I can take it,” he replied. He wasn’t letting them make fun of him, not immediately at least. And especially he wasn’t taking the teasing from him.

“Then lay on the bed,” Jade ordered, twirling the handcuffs around her fingers.

He did as told and then raised his arms on top of his head, giving her the chance to tie him to the headboard.

“You good?” She asked, making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable and when he nodded she turned around to grab the blindfold that Yuta was already handing her.

“You know what the safeword is if you want us to stop,” she reminded him as she wrapped the fabric around his head, tight enough so it wouldn’t slip away.

He hummed and then tried to relax, the only thing he could feel now was the breeze coming from the open window to the side and the bed lifting up as no more weight pressed on it.

“A-are you gone?” He asked, voice shaking and fingers curling around nothing.

“Didn’t say you could talk, did I?” Jade said, shushing him and he nodded, sealing his lips, only faintly making out that probably they were discussing something, something he had no idea about.

When they were done it felt like an eternity for him, hard rock cock laying on his abs, anticipation rising and a little bit of fear, not because he didn’t trust them, but because he wasn’t sure he could take anything they wanted, especially that she wanted. He knew what she liked doing with Taeyong and well, he wasn’t him.

“You want to come, don’t you, baby?” She asked, sitting next to him, left hand running on his thigh, making him shiver. “You’re so hard, I bet it hurts,” she cooed, teasingly brushing her fingers against his cock, light like the summer breeze and torturous like hell.

Jaehyun groaned a hum but she tsked shaking her head, “Answer me. I’m sure you can open your mouth, right? Or are you afraid too many moans will come out of there?”

“I can,” he remarked immediately.

She smirked, she knew this was all a matter of pride. He hated when he had things sorted out and then they didn’t go as planned, and he also hated when people saw him too vulnerable, especially when it came to sex, and this, God, this was the most vulnerable he could be. All spread out, naked, tied up, and blindfolded with four people around him ready to absolutely destroy him and he knew nothing about what was about to come.

“Just make me come, please,” he begged but still fought to keep his voice in his usual dominant tone.

Jade laughed under her breath but finally gave him what he was asking for.

“Is this all you have?” He asked when her hand started pumping up and down. “Think that this can make you have power over me?”

She smirked even if he couldn’t see and leaned down, lips brushing against his ear, “I have so much power over you now,” she grinned, “you are the one tied up, blindfolded and we could do anything we want with you, right?” She reminded him, and the others hummed, mattress flexing as their bodies sat on it. “And I bet you wouldn’t even say no, would you?” She teased, pinching his nipple, making him let out an – unexpectedly – high-pitched moan. “See, you’re pathetic,” she mocked, slapping his dick, making him snap his eyes open even behind the blindfold.

“What the fuck,” he gasped.

“What? You always do that to me,” she said.

“Okay, is this revenge? If you don’t like something you can – fuck – you can tell me – shit,” he breathed out, chest panting harder as she started pumping fast on him again.

“I love when you do that, don’t you love it too?” She teased, doing it again, his hips bucking up and lips getting bitten by his teeth to muffle moans.

“Is this all you got?” He pushed her buttons again, a sly smirk curling up his lips and Jade turned around to look at the other’s amused expressions.

“Oh, so you’re a brat,” she whispered, smirking too. If this was how he wanted it, then she would’ve given it to him. “What a nice surprise.”

“I said, is this all you – shit –” his voice died in his mouth when she spat on his cock and started pumping fast, incredibly fast, twisting at the base and then reaching up again.

“Say that,” she ordered, “finish what you were saying.”

Jaehyun’s lips moved to speak but not a reasonable sound came out.

“I don’t think he can finish it. She’s good, isn’t she?” Johnny teased, sitting right next to his face on the bed, only covered in his underwear, and let his hand travel down his body, teasing his nipples, making him squirm. And when Yuta and Taeyong’s hands reached his body too, he felt his head spin. He couldn’t see who was doing what, barely able to make out where they were standing from their voices and he felt so vulnerable; he wasn’t used to having all this attention on him.

“You were saying, baby?”

He gulped, “I – I was asking if this is all you got,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut behind the blindfold, feeling his stomach twitch in anticipation, body burning up for all the hands on him.

“See, I don’t like being talked back, I think we should use that pretty mouth of yours for something more useful,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Or simply shut it up.”

“Don’t – don’t gag me,” he begged, his tone now being pretty neutral but it surely wasn’t the teasing, powerful tone he had when he was in command.

“Open your mouth,” she ordered, ignoring his words, hand slowing down, eliciting a low whine of disappointment and when he did, she pushed two fingers inside. “There, so much better,” she cooed, picking up the pace on his hard dick again, and then slowing down and then picking up faster than before and stopping again, making him moan lowly around her fingers and lift his hips to get more friction.

Jaehyun almost bit down on her when he could feel someone’s lips against his neck, probably Taeyong, yes, surely his for how soft he was kissing him, nibbling ever so slightly.

“Don’t bite,” she warned, slowing down again, spitting on his cock even if there was enough pre-cum to fill the room with loud enough wet sounds and let her hand move easily on him.

He mumbled something around her fingers, chest panting even harder and hips twitching. “Want to come, baby?”

He nodded, coughing loudly when she pulled her fingers out of his mouth and he could breathe again. “You’re insane,” he spat out, rolling his head back, trying to breathe normally but getting caught again in a mess of moans and groans when she picked up again.

She snickered, “Am I?” she asked, rubbing his tip in circles, seeing him tense up and throw his head back, smirking before pulling away completely.

“No, fuck, no,” he groaned, head snapping up as if she could see his glossy eyes and his shocked expression.

“What? Do you need something?” She asked innocently, still not touching him, the only hands grazing his body were his boyfriends’ ones but their touches weren’t enough to let him reach the high.

“Fuck you, I need to come,” he snapped, voice broke and ears red.

“Fuck me?” She asked, grabbing his dick again, “well, somebody might fuck me and that won’t be you tonight.”

“What a shame,” Yuta teased, “you did all of this for her, and now…”

“No, fuck, please, I, shit. Stop teasing me like that,” Jaehyun breathed out in a shaky tone, feeling like he was about to explode, and he also wanted to push away Taeyong and Johnny’s lips on his neck and shoulders not because it didn’t feel good but because it felt too good and he wasn’t used to all these attentions, he might’ve loved it, but that didn’t mean he could take it.

“Then beg for it, come on, show me how bad you need this, how bad you want this,” she ordered, picking up a fast pace again and Jaehyun could barely make out Yuta’s hands playing with his balls, making him jump at the contrast of his cold rings against his hot skin.

“You want me to beg?”

“You heard me.”

“I won’t – fuck – no. I won’t beg you. I’ll never – shit – beg,” he moaned.

“Then you’re not coming,” she sang, pulling away again.

“You can’t – you can’t control me – shit, shit, shit –” he breathed out shakily when he could feel Johnny’s lips on his nipples, sucking hard and rough, even biting him.

“You’re so fucking proud,” Yuta huffed, “the night is going to be pretty long, babe, if I were you, I wouldn’t let her edge me longer.”

“Fine,” he broke down, giving up trying to gain some control, not like he could in this position – not like he wanted, to be honest. “Please, please, let me come,” he started begging, cursing at himself when he felt his eyes get teary, now this was humiliating.

“Good. Are we going to have to pull words out of your mouth all night long, though?” She asked mockingly as she started pumping him again. “Because it gets quite annoying.”

“No, no, fuck, just – shit – keep, keep fucking me, yes.”

“Are you close?” She asked just for fun, she knew she had kept edging him for the past ten minutes, probably even more, she knew he was close and was trying hard not to come but wait for her commend from the way he was struggling against the restrainers and the way his dick was throbbing in her hand and how shaky his moans got.

“Yes, please, please, let me – shit – let me come,” he cried out.

“Come, then,” she ordered, watching him come undone in her hands. And the first orgasm washed over him, giving him shaking legs already and he was feeling his sanity slip away from him.

Just like she wanted.

Jade wanted to see him lose control for once, to let go of the reins and just enjoy the ride. She wanted to see him look like a mess and they were getting close to it.

“Good boy,” she whispered, crawling closer to him, kissing him slowly. “You were a handful but you did great.”

“You – you are a tease,” he cried, chest still panting and sweat starting to pearl his skin.

“We’ll get you out of the handcuffs, okay?”

He hummed, letting out a breath of relief when someone – Yuta, but he couldn’t know – grabbed the key and set him free.

“On your fours,” she ordered, not giving him time to come down from the high.

“What? You want… we are going to…”

“What? As if you don’t enjoy all these eyes and hands on you,” Johnny teased, caressing his shoulder almost making him betray his words with a low moan. “This can be so much fun if you trust us.”

“Do you trust us?” This time it was Taeyong talking, next to his ear, voice soft.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun breathed out, “I do. I trust you.”

“Great, then do what she told you to do,” Yuta said, caressing his thigh gently before waiting for him to turn around.

“Look at how pretty you are,” she praised and Jaehyun could feel her soft hands on the skin of his ass, caressing him gently, making shivers run down his spine. “Bet you’d look even prettier with your face flushed against the mattress.”

“But –”

“What? Don’t you remember how much you love putting me in that position? Saying I look so pretty, should we see how pretty you look?”

He nodded, swallowing before he moved with Johnny’s help.

“Isn’t he so so pretty?” This time it was Taeyong talking, his hand on the smooth skin of his ass cheek, his veins rubbing against it. “So soft and delicate.”

Jaehyun couldn’t help but smile at his compliments. Okay, maybe he loved being the center of attention.

“Maybe we should stop touching you, what if you break?” He asked, fingers moving closer to his rim of nerves, teasing him lightly.

“No,” Jaehyun exclaimed, his voice breaking in his throat.

They all laughed at that, exchanging teasing glances he couldn’t see.

“Now you want this so eagerly?” She cooed.

“Yes, please.”

“Do you think you deserve it?” Johnny asked teasingly.

“Y-yes,” he breathed out, still shaking from the way Taeyong was teasing him.

“I don’t think so,” he said.

“I did, please.”

“Please what, pup? Tell us what you want,” she said, her fingers making her way to his mouth asking for permission to enter. He opened up.

“Tou-touch me,” Jaehyun hardly said, trying to breathe. “Need you, need to feel you.”

“Oh, now you need this,” she teased, still pushing her fingers inside his mouth, “and how do you want it?”

“Want Yong.”

Jade snickered, before pulling her fingers out and lightly slapping his face, “I asked how not by who. Are you dumb?”

“No, I-” Jaehyun tried to mumble but his voice got stuck in his throat when another slap landed on his ass, it was Johnny, big hand, hitting hard. “Fuck.”

“You're not even good at listening, I don’t think you deserve these attentions,” she said rubbing his cheeks.

“No, please, mo-mommy,” his face burned up when the name rolled out of his lips but it was enough to make a smirk curl her lips. Her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled strongly toward herself causing his lower back to arch up.

“You can be such a good boy sometimes,” she said. “But since you can’t pick, we’ll choose,” she said before gesturing to Taeyong to take care of him, and Jaehyun only nodded, everything was fine as long as one of them touched him.

“You wanted me, right, peach?” Taeyong said, leaving a trail of kisses on his shoulders blades and caressing his waist.

“Yes,” he replied with a shaky voice, pushing his ass up more, his back arched perfectly. He just wanted to be ruined, couldn’t care much of anything else, not even how pathetic he looked.

“Oh, poor you,” he teased, grabbing the lube from Johnny’s hands and pouring a generous amount of the cold liquid on his rim, “you’re so fucking desperate,” he got closer to him, his chest making contact with Jaehyun’s back. “Suck,” he ordered, putting two digits in his mouth not so sweetly. And Jaehyun did. Closing his rose lips around them and then swirling his tongue in his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he enjoyed the feeling.

“God, you’re so hot like this,” Johnny commented, palming his boner. He never fantasized about seeing Jaehyun so vulnerable but fuck if that was a beautiful view.

“Stop. I’m sure you want my fingers somewhere else,” Taeyong taunted, chuckling lowly before he moved his fingers down again and slowly started to push in, making him moan at the intrusion.

“You love sucking so much,” Jade noted with a mocking tone, “maybe we should really treat you and fulfill another one of your desires,” she smirked, looking up at Johnny, giving him a look that didn’t need words. And so in one second, Johnny was completely naked, hard cock free, getting pumped in his hand.

“Want to suck something?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t – I don’t think I’ll be – shit – good,” he replied, trying to hold back the moans but Taeyong’s fingers felt too good for him, so long, and cured and veiny and fuck, he was going crazy.

“I think you can always learn,” Yuta chimed, running a hand in his hair, tugging hard enough to make his mouth fall open. “I’m sure you can keep his cock warm while Taeyong gives you what you want.”

“Yes, yes, I can, I’ll try.”

“No, you’ll make it,” Jade said. “Open your mouth for him.” Without adding another word, Johnny got on the bed, gently moving his head up to sit with his legs open on the pillow beneath Jaehyun’s head. So the younger parted his lips, resting his cheeks on Johnny’s thigh as he tried to take in his mouth as much of Johnny’s dick as possible. But fuck, Johnny was so big, and he wasn’t the one sucking cocks, usually. But he wanted to do it, anyway, not only because he promised but also because there still was his pride on the line and – even if he wanted to deny it – he just wanted to suck something.

“Good boy, just like that,” Johnny praised softly, running his fingers through his hair to make him relax as he felt his dick rest on Jaehyun’s tongue, and his voice, his tone, and his touch felt nice. It wasn’t something they were used to doing, their relationship had never really been extremely sexual, yet these few intimate moments felt nice.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Taeyong’s voice bought him back to the world while he tried to concentrate on his breathing and the pleasure. Taeyong was looking at him in awe, his three fingers were buried deep inside him and he could perfectly see how he was stretching him out. “But you’re so...pretty like this.” Taeyong emphasised the word ‘pretty’, Jaehyun wasn’t a fan of that but he surely was going to be by the end of the night.

“Want him to eat you out, babe?” Jade asked, and he could feel her hand start to move up and down his spine. “Want to see how good you can feel?”

“Yeah,” he moaned around Johnny. Hating the blindfold because he wanted to see her, to see them. A whimper vibrated around Johnny’s cock when Taeyong’s tongue licked his entrance and swirled around. A muffled ‘fuck’ left his mouth as he tried to steady his breath through his nose, it was harder than he expected. Johnny’s dick blocked all the air from the mouth and sucking sent him into outer space, which made it hard for him to focus on something that was actually pretty important — breathing. And the amazing oral sex Taeyong was giving him wasn’t helping.

“Yes, that feels good, right?” Jade checked in, humming in approval when she saw him try to nod. “It’s a shame you can’t see yourself, you’re so pretty like this.”

Jaehyun wanted to rip the blindfold but he had promised he wouldn’t move, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dying to see the way she was looking at him. The idea that she had been craving to do this for so long was driving him crazy in anticipation and he just wanted to know what he looked like in her eyes like this. His cheeks turned red at the thought, he could feel her gaze burning on his skin because he knew exactly how she looked at them when she got what she wanted. Jaehyun knew exactly the expression on her face when she was proud and excited and how particularly beautiful and intense her eyes would get during sex. It was like lust and perdition filled them completely and got anybody that mirrored in them drunk and high on pleasure. And the power she had over him was insane because, with Johnny and Taeyong working on him, the only one that filled his brain was her.

And everything was starting to get too much, so he tried to beg again, a muffled ‘please’ while tears threatened to stream down his face.

“Please?” Jade asked, tilting her head, “Begging again, so soon?”

“Wanna come,” he mumbled, making Johnny pull out to let him catch his breath and also because shit cockwarming turned him on more than imagined.

“Hold on a bit more, babe. Yong, will let you come, ‘right?”

Jaehyun hummed and then let his head rest against Johnny’s tight, impatiently waiting for the moment of release.

“I think you need to be prepped more, baby,” Jade said, running a hand in his hair, tugging lightly. “Mommy’s cock’s big, isn’t it?”

At that, his mouth hung open, gaping in shock as he tried to let out the right words, “Are you – shit – are you going to fuck me?” Okay now, he should’ve expected this was where it was going to go in the first place but sanity had slipped his mind long ago and when he stopped fighting for dominance his brain didn’t process what Jade truly wanted.

“What do you think I would’ve done to you?” She snickered mockingly. “That we would’ve stopped here and then started playing chess?”

“No, I – I didn’t, I simply, umh, fuck,” he cried when Taeyong curled right where he wanted him and his hips faltered, the tip of his dick brushing against the sheets making his lungs burn up. “I didn’t think.”

“Of course, you didn’t think,” she chuckled, cupping his chin, “you’re my dumb little cock drunk boy, aren’t you? There’s nothing in that little brain of yours but us and what we do to you.”

“Sounds revengeful,” Johnny whispered, smirking at her words. He had no idea how Taeyong was in their little one-on-one sessions but when they group sex, he had never seen her be this harsh and dominant. But this unexpected side of her was exciting. And Yuta thought the same thing as he looked at her, wetting his lips with his tongue and a sparkle in his eyes in excitement.

“I should fuck you faster,” Taeyong said, “fuck some sense in you.” His fingers started fucking him mercilessly while the other hand played with his balls, making him push back and squirm under his touch. And Taeyong thought that it was so hot to see him like this, and no, he never had an interest in topping any of them but fuck if Jaehyun looked inviting.

“Yong, ple – please...” Jaehyun barely whispered, his shaky breaths making it hard to form any words, his orgasm building up in his stomach, again, but he knew he wouldn’t have been able to hold it in this time. And he didn’t, when Taeyong’s fingers hit deeper and he involuntarily brushed his cock against the sheets again, he lost it, coming all over them underneath him, a longer moan ripping past his throat while his body shook in pleasure.

Silence fell in the room while gazes he couldn’t see were being exchanged, the only sounds were Jaehyun’s still shaky breaths and the wet sound of Taeyong’s fingers pulling out of him.

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun cried out after a while, only then releasing he had disobeyed. “I couldn’t do it anymore, I – I tried, I swear, I did,” he panted as he felt Johnny’s warm skin pull away from him, feeling the comfort his proximity gave him slip away.

“What do we have to do with you?” Jade asked, untying the blindfold and turning him around on his back again before gently caressing his tears-streaked cheeks. Maybe if it was another occasion she would’ve pushed harder, teased him more, but for now, she wanted to make sure he was fine, and what better way than condescending talk?

Also, Jaehyun looked way too beautiful, she just couldn’t be mad at him with his flushed and wet cheeks, swollen red lips, and messy hair. He looked breathtaking like this, even if he was a complete mess.

“Bad boys usually get punished,” Yuta answered instead, making her head turn to him.

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun cried out again.

“Oh, we know you are,” Yuta replied, caressing his other cheek, “but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t teach you a lesson,” he added, briefly looking at Jade that hummed and gave him the go.

“Where are you going?” Jaehyun asked when he saw Yuta leave again but Jade turned his head to her. “Look at me, are you okay?”

“Yes, but –”

“No buts, just do what I tell you and trust us.”

“You promised you trusted us, right?” Johnny chimed, caressing his hair.

“Yeah, I do, but I didn’t want to, I…”

“We know,” Johnny smiled. “We just need to train you harder.”

Jaehyun’s smile faded at his words. They seemed so sweet and understanding but... they wanted to punish him?

“You wanted me, didn’t you?” Jade chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Too bad,” she said, getting up, and grabbing the hem of her dress, exposing her body, making all of them gasp. “Okay, I appreciate that but seriously, every time that you see me you act as if it’s the first time.”

“That’s because you’re hot,” Johnny replied. “That’s why our baby boy wants you so bad, right, baby?” He cooed to Jaehyun that was lost, looking at her with his mouth open. “Answer,” he urged, lightly slapping his cheek.

“Yes, please.”

Jade shook her head, crawling back on the bed, followed by Yuta that wrapped his arms around her. “I told you, we need to teach you a lesson, and you need to learn how to be good.”

“What are you going to do?” He asked in a whisper, afraid to know the answer. He had never seen her give Taeyong a punishment.

“We will tie you up at your place,” she started, moving to let Yuta move to him to get started, “And you will watch how much of a good boy Yong is,” she said, crawling to him, leaning down next to his ear, “and how good is Yuta at fucking me.”

“What?” He asked, gasping. “No, it’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a punishment for a reason,” Yuta chuckled, tapping the mattress to signal him to sit up against the headboard and give him his hands.

“Do you have to tie me?”

“For safety reasons,” she smirked and then winked at him.

“I’m not a monster, I won’t run away, please,” he cried. “At least let me touch you.”

“Only good boys get to touch me.”

And that’s when the worst part arrived, when the other three were on her in a second, touching her and kissing her, feeling her, right in front of his eyes while he was helpless and could only watch. He had worked past his jealousy but right now that feeling was resurfacing and was making him… squirm, and whine, and... beg? He wasn’t fighting against it but he was begging for them to give him attention too?

When Jade pulled away and looked at him he thought that she was moved by pity and would’ve at least kissed him but instead, she said, “No squirming and crying will get you out of there, be good and patient if you don’t want to dig your hole deeper.”

And just like that his punishment — or torture, like he saw it — started. He really wanted to pay attention to the way Johnny was working Taeyong open with his fingers but his attention was only on Yuta and Jade and the way his hands roamed all over her body and stuffed inside her panties, fingers moving fast on her clit, making her roll her head back and moan. And Jaehyun had to hold back a whine because she was so beautiful always, when she was in control and when she would let go of it like right now, vulnerable in Yuta’s hands, letting him have the reins. But he didn’t want to be at Yuta’s place, no, he wanted her to be at his place and he at hers. He had gotten just a taste but he needed more.

Jaehyun was about to whine out loud when they all started going and moans filled the room as Taeyong and Jade rode Johnny and Yuta giving them their back, but Jade’s gaze shutting him up, stopped him.

“Enjoying the show?” She asked, looking at him in the eyes as she kept fucking back and forth against Yuta. “No words just nod.”

He rolled his eyes, cursing under his breath but then nodded.

“Good,” she smiled. “See how good Taeyong has been? He didn’t come like a pathetic little thing from preparation.”

“Don’t smirk like that,” he snapped, talking to Taeyong before he realized what he had done, looking apologetically at Jade that had stopped. “No, shit, sorry, but why would he do that? He can’t be perfect.”

“You just can’t listen,” she huffed, pulling off of Yuta for a moment. “I guess we need to do this the hard way.”

“There’s a way harder than this?”

“Oh, yes,” she smiled. “Tied you, blinded folded you, and now it’s time to gag you.”

“No, no, please, I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Don’t gag him,” Yuta chimed, crawling behind her, smirking evilly as he leaned in so only she could hear and then she smirked.

“Fine, I won’t, but still keep quiet,” she ordered. “Yong, come lay down here.”

And he followed, mimicking her position, laying on their tummy diagonally on the bed while Johnny and Yuta were positioned behind them. She swiftly whispered something in his ear and then the other two pushed inside again. The only ones not aware of the plan were Johnny and Jaehyun but they both picked it up soon when Jade only praised Taeyong as they shared rough kisses, and Yuta only praised how good she felt. Ignore him.

And he felt like crying while his dick got hard once again and was almost painful and not only he couldn’t ease the physical pain but they weren’t even talking to him.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” Yuta moaned, head thrown back and hands wrapped around her waist, slamming her back and forth in a fast steady rhythm. “Dripping all over the sheets, so warm and hot.”

Jaehyun had to bite his lower lip to avoid pathetic moans to escape and he tried to stare in front of him, focusing on the white closet in front of the bed and don’t get lost in the way Jade and Taeyong’s bodies were being fucked hard, or the way they were kissing each other eagerly, and the lewd sounds of wetness squelching and skin slapping against each other.

But it was somehow worse. It was painful and unfair, and gruelling but he wanted to watch them. He loved them. He loved the way their bodies moved, how they worked together, how their hands knew every crease of each other. And yes, he hated not being part of that messy tangle, but at the same time, there was something so beautiful, and exciting to seeing it from the outside.

“See, the hard way works,” she said after what felt like an eternity, making him snap out of his thoughts. “You learned how to keep your mouth shut to don’t make it worse.”

He wanted to reply but only let out a sigh of relief.

“Good boy,” she said. “Bet you would want to be here, right?”

Jaehyun nodded, eyes begging her to be forgiving and set him free, but she only smirked and then turned back to Taeyong.

“Do you like what you see?” Johnny asked, voice lower, and panting, while one of his hands moved from Tayong’s hips and grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling tight, causing his ass to arch back and let out a raspy moan that got caught into Jade’s mouth. “Wanted to be you? Or do you want to be Yuta?”

Jaehyun’s eyes fluttered, gulping as he tried to wet his mouth again but it still felt dry. He couldn’t answer, but even if he could, he had no idea what to say. Was it crazy that he wanted it all? That he wanted to be all of them, feeling every sensation.

“He’s so good at fucking her,” Johnny teased, smirking back at Yuta that did the same he had done before, pulling her back by her hair. “It could’ve been you, what a shame.”

He whined. A low, barely audible whine. And then he fell.

“Please, please, mommy, at least let me talk,” he whimpered.

“Can you do it?” She teased, staring at him with a raised eyebrow, pushing her ass back against Yuta, moaning louder on purpose. “You look like a mess,” she pointed out. “I don’t – fuck – think that words can be formed in your little brain.”

“No, no, I can. Look, I can.”

“Then answer Johnny,” she ordered. “What do you want? Want to fuck me?”

“Yes, want you, want to make you feel good like Yuta,” he replied. “He’s so good, I know he’s good but I can, I can be good too. I can give you what you want.”

“Can you give her this?” Yuta asked, one hand slipping around her neck to push her up, her back flat against his chest, hips thrusting into her relentlessly, and the other hand moving on her clit, bringing her on the edge in a few seconds.

“Fuck,” she moaned loudly when the orgasm broke out of her unexpectedly, taking her by surprise. She could feel Yuta’s smirk behind her, teasing eyes staring straight into Jaehyun’s as he looked at him in disbelief.

“Can you?” He asked again, slowing down just a bit to make her catch her breath again.

“I – I can’t…”

“Then what can we do with you?” She asked, voice heavier as she struggled to come down from the high since Yuta kept moving inside of her. “You’re so useless.” She dared to say it, honestly terrified he was going to snap out of it, but the words that came out of his lips surprised them all.

“Use me,” he cried out. “Fuck me senseless. I want you to use me so badly, my holes, my cock. Please. Just… I just want to be good for you. Fuck me hard, all of you. Until I’m nothing but your little dumb toy, please. Fill me to the brim. Leave me – fuck – leave me leaking like a mess, but please, please, use me.” His voice was high, and the words came out in whimpers and he couldn’t really care how pathetic he sounded, and looked, he meant every word. He had no idea from which part of his brain they were coming but he wanted them to make a mess out of him.

Jade almost came again just by hearing those words and his voice. Seeing him so vulnerable was such a turn-on, but she never imagined him being so vulnerable.

“Fuck, that’s hot…” Johnny whispered, his thrusts coming to a stop for a moment as he looked at Jaehyun in surprise.

“Should we give it to him?” Yuta whispered just for Jade to hear but it took her a while to hum in agreement, whining when he pulled out of her.

“Please,” Jaehyun begged again, hips bucking from the mattress, lips bleeding for how strong he was biting on them. “Please, I’ll be good. I won’t disappoint this time, I won’t –” she shushed him with a kiss, her hands cupping his face, making him slump back against the headboard as he relaxed in her touch.

“We know,” she reassured him. “You learned your lesson, right? You will be our good boy.”

“Yes, yes,” he whimpered, grinding against her thigh, “please.”

When also the others sat around him and towered over him he felt overwhelmed with emotions. He felt so small, and vulnerable, and he wasn’t used to it. To have mocking laughs directed at him, to have so many lips brush against his burning skin and teeth sinking down his flesh, to have so many hands teasing him. And he couldn’t even mind keeping up with who was doing what. He just closed his eyes, letting them do whatever they wanted with him.

“Want to ride you,” Taeyong said, and Jaehyun barely registered his voice and his hand wrapping around his painfully hard dick. “It would be a shame to don’t use your big cock.”

“Mmph,” he whimpered when he felt him spit on it and pump it up and down, mixing his saliva with the embarrassing amount of pre-cum that dripped down before. A chocked sob ripped past his throat when Taeyong’s tight asshole sank on him and started moving right away. Just like he had asked. To be used for their pleasure.

“Fuck, your cock is so good,” Taeyong praised, “The only good thing about you, isn’t it? The only thing you know how to use.”

“Answer him,” Jade urged, slapping his cheek, forcing his eyes open in surprise.

“Y-yes,” he wept, feeling on the verge of a breakdown because he was so close again but he had no idea if he could come and he didn’t even have the courage to ask. “Only good at that, only – shit – good to be your toy.” He almost screamed when Yuta’s toungue flicked his nipple, and he felt a drop run down his cheek. “N-no,” he begged.

“No?” Yuta asked, slightly pulling away. “I thought we could do anything to you.”

“Ye-yes but this – this doesn’t – shit – bri-bring you pleasure,” he breathed out, chest panting harder when his fingers kept pinching and teasing his hard buds.

Jade smirked, cupping his chin, thumb brushing against his parted lips, “You want to come, don’t you?” He didn’t answer, just stared at her with tears running down his face. He didn’t even want to admit it. He wanted to convince himself he didn’t need it. “Oh, you want to come so bad but you also want to be a good fucktoy for us, isn’t it? And good toys don’t get what they want,” she teased, letting go of his chin, fingers caressing his wet cheeks and then massaging his scalp. “Good toys give. Good toys don’t beg, don’t complain and don’t cry.”

“No, sorry, sorry, I – I can take it,” he whimpered, choking on his sobs, but she shushed him, shaking her head.

“Don’t be,” she whispered, “you are letting Yong use you so well, pushing yourself so back that I bet it must hurt.” He nodded, whining. “You have so much control, honey,” she praised, fingers still moving against his hair. “Ask him if he wants you to fill him up, come on.”

“Ugh,” he cried, “do – do you want me, do you – fuck – want my cum? Can I please – mmph – please come in you?”

“Do you think I’m even close?” Taeyong asked instead. “Why don’t you fuck me harder to start with, mhh? Make me come and then maybe you’ll get to come too.”

“I – I ca-can’t,” Jaehyun cried. “I can’t, I don’t, I don’t think, I…”

“Take a deep breath,” Jade whispered, her hand back against his cheek, caressing him softly. “Calm down and focus on your thrusts,” she said and he nodded, chest slowing down, also thanks to Yuta that pulled away and stopped teasing him. “Just like that, breathe in and move your hips up against him,” she guided him.

“You’re doing so good,” Taeyong praised, leaning in to kiss him, helping him, meeting him halfway.

“See, you could do it,” Jade smiled. “Now fuck him faster, come on. I know you can give it to him as hard as he wants it. You’re so good at it.”

With the help of her words, he managed to find some strength and pick up a faster speed, concentrating hard to don’t come, not yet, not when Taeyong didn’t give him permission yet.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Taeyong moaned. “You’re gonna make me come – fuck. Keep fucking me – shit – keep – shit – just like that,” he whimpered, kissing him again. “Gonna come,” he said. “Fill me up, need your cum.”

And that was all he needed to explode, hips stuttering against him as he let go, orgasm so held back that even the release felt almost painful. He felt his head spin and he didn’t mind about Taeyong’s cum spilling on his abs. Ears buzzing so loudly he couldn’t even make out the other words coming out of the other’s mouth.

And when Taeyong pulled away, he slumped back again, brainless and boneless. Completely at their mercy.

“I think we should get him out of these,” Yuta said, moving to unclasp his cuffs.

“Look at you,” Johnny said, caressing his face and moving him so he was laying down against the mattress. “Such a big boy and yet here you are, so petite.”

“F-for you,” he mumbled, blinking his eyes to shake the dizziness out of his brain but it didn’t work much. He was already wrecked and the real thing didn’t even start yet.

“You wanted to get fucked hard, didn’t you?” Johnny asked, turning him around, face pressed against the mattress and ass up. “Does it even matter what you want? You said you want to be our toy, right? And it only matters what we want.”

He hummed, face pressed against the pillow and ass arching back, craving more contact.

“I saw the way you were looking at Taeyong before,” he teased, spitting on his rim, smirking when his hole clenched around nothing. “You’re so pathetic,” he mocked, hand slapping his ass cheek hard.

“No, no,” he murmured.

“Yes, you are.” This time it was Jade talking, and he tried to move around to look at her but found it hard to lift his torso.

“I think we just need to finish this up,” she added, turning his head around and pushing him up by his hair, “you’re such a boring toy, you know? Why don’t you do something to surprise us?”

“Yeah, or else we’re going to have fun on our own,” Yuta added.

He blinked, swallowing as he tried to come up with anything to don’t make them push him out of the scene. “No, I’ll – I’ll do anything you want. Whatever you want. I’ll – I’ll take you.”

“Can you take us?” Johnny asked, fingers tracing his ass and then fingering him again, making him gasp. “See, all the work of before ruined because you had to fuck it up.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I can take you. I promise I can.”

Jade hummed before turning around to whisper something in Johnny’s ear, signaling Yuta to come closer too.

“I – what are you – what are you saying?” Jaehyun asked but nobody answered.

“Turn around,” she ordered, “don’t make me flip you over like a fucking ragdoll, come on.”

He whimpered, jumping when his cock brushed against the sheets under him, and then turned around facing them, feeling small once again.

“I’m gonna use your cock like a toy while they fuck me, and you can’t come.”

“But –”

“No buts,” she stopped him. “Do you want to be good or not?”

He hummed, “But please, after, after, I – I need you, mommy. I need you so bad.”

“I know,” she reassured, biting her lower lip when Johnny’s fingers made way into her ass. “But I want to be the only one that fucks your ass tonight, so you’ll have to wait.”

He hummed again but felt his body tremble when Yuta moved in front of him and shielded her from his view. He hated not seeing her. He couldn’t care if they weren’t truly paying him attention. He couldn’t care if he was forced to hold it in again and just let them have their fun. But he needed to see them.

“You look like a mess.” He had no time to dwell on them when Taeyong’s voice ringed in his ears. His face now up close to his, a teasing smirk on his face while his fingers ran on his tears-streaked cheeks. “Is it too much for you?”

Jaehyun shook his head, lips pressed together to keep in a loud moan when he felt Jade sink down on him. And Taeyong chuckled, shaking his head, “You can’t take it.”

“I can, I can take it,” he cried, finding the courage to let out those words.

“Why don’t you keep his mouth shut?” Jade asked Taeyong, making Jaehyun’s eyes snap open. “I don’t think I want to hear him while they fuck me.”

“No, I will keep quiet, I will – mmph,” he moaned when Taeyong filled his mouth, fingers stuffing him, reaching the back of his throat, making him choke.

“Nice,” she smiled, leaning closer to him just to let Johnny have more room to enter her. But her hands weren’t on his chest or shoulders, they were resting at his side on the mattress, making him go crazy at the lack of contact, no matter that he was right inside her, it wasn’t enough. “Good toys don’t talk, remember?”

He nodded, wet eyes staring up at her as the only thing he could do was suck on Taeyong’s fingers. But a deep groan almost escaped his mouth when Johnny filled her up completely and he could feel his cock press against her thin walls. One of the things he loved the most and he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t fuck her. He couldn’t moan. He couldn’t come. He just had to lay there and take it, watch as they fell apart. And as wrong as it was, it turned him on even more.

“Fuck, so good,” Johnny moaned, pulling out and then slamming back in. “Should fuck your ass more often.”

“Mhh, yes,” she moaned, rolling her eyes back before she forced them open to look at her two boyfriends in front of her. Jaehyun looked like a complete mess, drooling all over Taeyong’s fingers and down his chin while the other kept teasing him with mocking words. And just when she was about to make eye contact with the younger, Yuta pulled her up and kissed her hard.

“Shit,” he moaned when her hand wrapped around his cock and started stroking, “wanna be inside you. Johnny move.”

The eldest groaned, stilling his hips and pulling out of her, his hand immediately replacing her warmth, even if it couldn’t come close to it. But watching Yuta enter her and fill her gaping hole was hot enough to don’t make him hate her idea of them taking turns fucking her.

“Fuck, he’s right,” Yuta moaned, “you feel so fucking good. And the toy is filling you up so nicely.”

At that Jaehyun whimpered, his hips bucking up in reflection, and a sharp slap on his face followed, making his breath falter and his eyes snap into Jade’s.

“No. Fucking. Back. Into. Me,” she reminded him sternly and he nodded, mumbling, “didn’t – didn’t mean to.”

“Why don’t you stuff his mouth with something bigger than those fingers?” Johnny asked Taeyong, ignoring him completely. This had been their wildest night ever and he wanted to see just how far Jaehyun was going to push himself. He kind of thought he had gone too far before begging them to use him, but Jaehyun was like this, too confident, too competitive, to the point that he became dumb.

Jaehyun shook his head, whimpering around his fingers that pushed deeper.

“What?” She cooed, breathing heavily as Yuta kept fucking hard into her. “You don’t want that? What a shame you were begging for Johnny’s cock before, fuck,” she mocked, lightly slapping his face again. “What’s that? You only want cocks big enough to choke you?”

“Mmph, no, I,” another slap stopped him.

“Shut up,” she ordered, “I don’t care. I wasn’t asking, I was – shit – pointing out how much of a needy, dirty thing you are.”

He whined throwing his head back, knuckles going white from how hard he was gripping the sheets. Feeling her pussy clench around him and slightly move back and forth due to Yuta’s pushes was driving him insane. And soon he had to think about Taeyong’s cockhead tapping against his lips, asking for permission to make its way in. And he could only open up and let them ravish him. Brain going blank as they worked together. Yuta pulling out to leave his place to Johnny, his thrusts precise and strong as always, and then back again, Yuta taking his place another time, strokes fast and rhythmic, and again and again. The alternating rhythms driving him insane, and driving Jade insane too.

He could feel it from the way her walls were suffocating his cock, the way her mouth was parted to let out the most vulnerable sounds, and her eyes were closed, surely rolled back in the back of her reclined head. And even if right now, she looked more vulnerable and submissive, no dominant thoughts crossed his mind. He wanted to be ruined by her still, even if she was like this, a mess in Yuta and Johnny’s hands.

“Oh, fuck, it’s so good. You two feel so good,” she almost screamed when her oldest boyfriends started taking turns faster.

Jaehyun wanted to whimper around Taeyong’s length stuffing his mouth about how the three of them were making her feel good but didn’t, he cried and complained only in his mind.

“Need to come in you, babe,” Yuta said, pushing inside of her again.

“Me too,” Johnny moaned, “can you take both of us?”

Jade’s mind came back to earth, stilling for a second and turning around. She thought about it for a moment, it was either going to be the dumbest last-minute decision ever or the best one, but at this point, this night had been a full one of unexpected things.

“Fuck, fine, yes, but pour more lube, please.”

“Shit,” Johnny hummed, grabbing the bottle close to him, and pouring more on her swollen hole, “thought you were going to say no.”

She shook her head and dropped it low when the tip of his cock started to slowly make its way aside Yuta’s cock already buried deep into her.

The triple stretch knocked the breath out of her air and she was grateful that at least Jaehyun wasn’t moving. It wasn’t painful, but it was a lot. Intense, unexpected, and the worst fucking decision ever considering the boyfriends picked.

And Jaehyun felt that too. Now that was unbearable. The way he could feel them push so much against him already, and they weren’t even moving yet. There was no way he wasn’t going to come just like that.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” Yuta moaned, looking down, feeling he could come by the sight only, “you’re taking us so well.”

“Yeah, umh,” Johnny groaned when they started moving again and the stimulation doubled, “I won’t last long.”

“Are you gonna come with us?” Yuta asked, pushing her body up against theirs. The position side by side wasn’t really comfortable but it didn’t matter, they had been on the edge all night, and this already felt too good to hold back.

“Yes, fuck, I’m close,” she mumbled, letting her head fall back against their shoulders as the knot on her stomach tightened and she started seeing stars. It didn’t take much for them to come together, groans and moans filling the room, skin slapping together more messily, and too much cum everywhere.

“Fuck,” Jade moaned when she opened her eyes and saw Jaehyun’s face almost covered in cum, “look at you,” she said, pussy still clenching hard around him as the orgasm faded away.

“Pulled out a little too late,” Taeyong said, moving back, and caressing his lips, removing some of the liquid. “But he looks so pretty like this, doesn’t he?”

Jade hummed, a tender smile on her face, followed by a low gasp when Johnny and Yuta pulled out of her, leaving her empty and leaking.

“And he didn’t come,” she praised, leaning down to kiss him while she also pulled off of him, his painfully hard cock, throbbing against his abs.

“Please,” he whimpered, “need you. You promised.”

“I know,” she reassured him, wiping more cum out of his face, “I’ll give you what you deserve. What you wanted.”

“No, don’t lea–” he started saying when she got up to get the strap-on but was immediately shut by Johnny’s lips.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he whispered, moving his dampened hair back, “you look like a mess baby,” he said, eyes scanning his spit and cum stained skin.

“But he looks like such a pretty doll,” Yuta said.

“N-no, no, I’m not a doll,” he whimpered.

“No? But dolls are so pretty. Don’t you want to be mommy’s pretty doll?” Yuta asked, cooing teasingly.

“I -,” he retorted but then gave up, “yes, want to be mommy’s doll. But I need her, please.”

“And here I am,” she said, crawling on the bed, soon hovering over him, spreading his legs open and positioning between them. “Tell me what you want.”

“You know,” he cried, feeling that his brain couldn’t put together any more words that made sense.

“I need to hear it, doll. Need to know my pretty toy still wants to be used.”

“Yes,” he almost screamed. “I want to – want to be your little toy, please, please, fuck me. Need your cock.”

And she obeyed, pouring more lube on the dildo and removing her fingers inside of him, she pushed the tip inside.

“Fuck,” he groaned, closing his eyes and biting his lower lip as he felt the toy make its way inside, slowly but somehow it was even more painful. He needed more. He couldn’t even care if he wasn’t ready. He had been waiting all night.

“Look at how well you are taking it,” she praised when she bottomed completely and stilled against his ass. And she knew he wanted more, it was in the way his hips were trying to roll back against her but had no more strength to move anymore. Still, she needed to test the waters. “Should I move? Should I finally fuck your pretty ass?”

“Fuck me, please, fuck my brain out,” he begged, voice barely higher than a whisper, strained and shaky. “Please, just take everything from me.”

“Shit,” a broken moan ripped past his throat when she started moving immediately at a steady rhythm, knocking his breath out. He had no idea if it was because it had been ages since he had something inside or if the toy was truly too big but either way the only thing he could do was throw his head back and try to relax even more. “Too – too much,” he cried.

Her hands wrapped around his waist, nails digging into his skin, leaving marks, making him whimper even more. “Oh, poor baby, don’t you want me to fuck your brain out?”

“I – I can’t take it,” he whimpered, watery eyes looking up at her as she leaned down to get closer to him. “You’re – fuck – too, too big.”

“You are taking it,” she said, hand wrapping around his neck and squeezing just enough, “keep being my good little fucktoy.”

Jaehyun nodded, biting his lips, hips bucking up when her other hand moved from his waist and started stroking his cock.

“God, I’m – I’m not – need to come, I can’t hold it,” he wept, knowing for sure he couldn’t keep being edged for so long.

“Then come,” she ordered, “but I’m not done with you. You said it, fuck you until you’re nothing but my little dumb toy,” she moaned, hitting faster into him, “and you still don’t look like a – fuck – like a mess enough to me.”

“But – but I – fuck – mhh,” he tried to talk back, not even knowing what to say.

“No, honey,” she cooed, hand moving faster on his cock, making him squirm under her, “you don’t need to think, just turn your brain off and be pretty for me, won’t you?” She teased and he simply hummed, feeling on the edge of the nth orgasm of the night. “Good, be my pretty doll, that’s all I want from you.”

And those words took him out, another climax hit him, finally, after what felt like hours since the last one, his ears buzzed and the vision behind his eyelids turned white. And from that on, he felt boneless in her arms, he could barely make out the way his other partners’ hands were teasing him too, too many emotions and too much bliss shutting his brain down.

“Look at you,” he could barely make out Yuta’s voice and his teasing words, “so cock drunk, aren’t you?”

“Mhh,” he simply hummed, no more words to squeeze out of his brain.

“Bet you would take so much more than that, right? We could all take turns with you,” this time it was Johnny, he could feel his voice coming from the right, while his hand replaced Jade’s on his once again hard cock. “Bending you anywhere and fucking you whenever we want to, would you let us?”

“Mmph,” he whimpered, his hand trying to reach for Jade’s body to ground somewhere but he couldn’t find her, “yes, yes,” he mumbled, thrusting up, meeting her halfway.

“So you would truly be a good doll,” she teased, grabbing his hand that was frenetically trying to meet her. “You’d love to – fuck – to be passed around like that, won’t you? Be nothing but our messy brainless baby boy, yeah? Filled with cum and leaking as you try to function normally,” she cooed, and Jaehyun only nodded, biting his lips to try to muffle the embarrassing messy moans that were coming out of them. It was hot and endearing at the same time, how broken he looked and how much comfort he was seeking. Surely he was burning up in overstimulation and she knew she couldn’t push him even further than that. So Jade picked up the speed again, making him snap his eyes open because he wasn’t expecting she could give him even more and then rolled his eyes back again when his boyfriends’ lips started torturing his skin.

“You are such a pretty good doll,” she praised, smiling when his lips turned into a shy small smile. “Taking mommy’s big cock so well, looking so pretty and fragile for us. Tell me how much you love this,” she ordered, but no words ripped past his throat, too dry, too tired, too lost in pleasure. A pleasure that doubled when she pushed his legs up, flat against his chest, the strap-on reaching deeper inside him, eliciting more moans to roll out of his mouth.

“You love this so much, no matter how much you tried to hide it,” Taeyong said before he kissed him hard, shushing his incoherent mumbling down his throat again.

“Wa – want to – mmph – ” he cried, voice breaking even more when Johnny’s hand started going to the same fast and steady rhythm of Jade’s thrusts, “be your – mmph – your good boy,” he breathed out before more whimpers and low moans started coming out of his tortured lips again. “All of you, want – want – uhm – you all.”

And by that time he was panting and twitching, hips moving uncontrollably to the point Jade had to push him further down against the mattress and wrap a hand around his neck again. And the way his glossy eyes looked into hers, made her lose her mind. This was exactly what she always imagined, the typical confident, commending, and composed Jaehyun falling apart into her hands, completely letting go of any kind of control and sanity. His flushed wet cheeks, his low and breathy whimpers, his panting chest and throbbing cock, his begs and pleas, and the way his hands tried to search for them. It was so fucking hot, so much more than anything she ever tried to imagine, and it also filled her with pride.

Right underneath her, there was the same person that easily manhandled her any way he wanted, usually. And right now he looked like a mess. She was the one that made him fall, give in to pleasure and be so open.

“Scream it,” she said, standing right on top of him, slapping his face lightly, forcing his eyes to open again. “Scream to the world what you are,” she ordered, stilling inside of him for a second and as soon as he opened his mouth she started again.

“I’m yours, fuck, I’m your good – fuck – doll,” he screamed, rolling his head back before another slap on his face made him stare up at her, “I’m just – shit – just a useless cockdrunk toy for you mommy, I’m – ahh – please, please, please, fuck,” he broke down when her hand tightened around his neck and he knew he couldn’t hold it in anymore. It was getting painful, his dick was too sensitive and he felt too tired.

“Tell me how much you love this,” she whispered, tightening the hold around his neck, smirking when he started struggling for air, “tell me nobody else can make you feel this good.”

“N-no, nobody – ahh, shit – nobody like you, no – no one, mommy, just you,” he mumbled, lips shaking and lungs burning when she squeezed his neck again. “I love this – mmhh – I love this so much.”

“You’re so desperate,” Johnny teased, squeezing the head of his cock, making him groan and throw his head back. “Pathetic little thing, look at you,” he cooed, laughing mockingly, “are you shaking poor doll?”

“Please,” he cried, tears streaming down his face freely as he tried to look up at Jade that knew he was at his breaking point. And she was too, the vibrations were sending her so close to the edge it was a matter of seconds now.

“Fuck,” she cursed, “you’ve been so good, doll. Come for me, come on, one last time,” she ordered, letting go of the hold around his neck, making him catch his breath.

And this time he completely blacked out, a louder, breathy, moan ripped past his throat as he rolled his head and eyes back, hips bucking and chest panting, abs twitching and cock throbbing, shooting cum everywhere. Jade’s orgasm hit soon after, making her ride the orgasm for a while until her hips came to a stop when he started mumbling “stop, stop, stop, too much.”

But the others weren’t done yet, and the lewd sounds of her hips against his ass were replaced by the wet sounds of the other three jacking off to quickly come.

“Shit,” Yuta mumbled when he looked at Jaehyun’s face, lashes batting slowly and tongue sticking out as he waited for Johnny to come in his mouth, cum dripping down his throat and on his chin. “Turn around,” he whispered once they were done and the younger lazily turned his head to the side, waiting for his and Taeyong’s load before closing his eyes.

“Tired,” Jaehyun mumbled, eyes fluttering just enough to see Jade get close to him and kiss him gently, not caring about some cum of the others that dripped out of his mouth.

“I know. You’ve been so good,” she praised, kissing him all over his face and pulling out slowly. “Our good boy,” she whispered, caressing his hair, but he was already sound asleep and barely registered those words.

“I can’t believe what just happened,” Johnny chuckled, sitting on a chair outside of the terrace, filling up his glass with lemonade. They had just finished taking a shower after trying to clean Jaehyun the best they could since he was still sleeping in bed and were taking a breath of fresh air to cool down.

“Yeah, how the hell did you turn him into a brainless mess?” Yuta asked, giggling but still shocked after everything that had happened. Taeyong hummed in agreement, sitting on his lap, eating some fruit because he was starving.

“Honestly?” she snorted, “I have no idea,” she chuckled, shaking her curls out of her face before grabbing a hair clip and twisting them in an upstyle. “I mean, I was hoping to get him to give in but I never thought he would go this far. He took so much for being his first time, I’m impressed.”

“It’s rude to talk about someone when they are not there.” Jaehyun’s sleepy voice made them turn around, faces painted with surprise at seeing him already up, they thought he was going to sleep all night long and wake up at midday.

“Why are you up?” Johnny asked. “Aren’t you wrecked?”

“Mhh,” he mumbled, scratching his eyes with the palm of his hands and then walking closer to them. “Can I sit there?” He asked, pointing at Jade’s lap.

“Oh, sure,” she replied, taken aback. She wasn’t expecting him to still be like this, not that she was complaining, this soft side of him was nice, so nice. And she wouldn’t have minded seeing him let go more often, he always tended to want to have too much under his control.

“You didn’t answer,” Yuta said, smiling at his messed-up state and the way he was leaning so close to Jade even if it was pretty hot, the night breeze still not enough to bring much comfort from the summer heat.

“I woke up, and I saw that you left me all alone after everything you did to me and I felt weird, also I didn’t want to be alone.”

“No, honey,” she cooed, caressing his hair, “we just wanted to eat and drink something.”

“Yeah, we were going to come sleep next to you soon,” Taeyong reassured. “Want some?” He then asked, handing him the fruit he had just cut and Jaehyun hummed. He was still feeling pretty weak, maybe some sugar would’ve helped him gain some energy.

“You did so well before,” she praised, leaving kisses on his naked shoulder while her hands ran up and down his arms. “And you don’t have to feel weird about it. We don’t believe what we said to you.”

“Yeah, did you have fun?” Johnny asked, smiling at him. He was still wasted, cheeks red, lips puffy, messy hair. It was cute seeing him like this even after and it was even better he wasn’t fighting it anymore.

Jaehyun hummed, “It was… unexpectedly fun,” he confessed, lowering his head when he felt his cheeks heat up even more, making his partners laugh tenderly at him.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Yuta reassured him. “It’s good to try new things sometimes, isn’t it? You never know what you truly like until you give it a try.”

“Yeah but,” he huffed, “come on, some things I said are so humiliating, and I had no idea I had it in me. It’s like a monster took over me.”

“A pretty cute one,” Johnny chuckled.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

“But you know we don’t judge, right?” Taeyong said, putting more fruit on his plate, he didn’t even drink during the whole thing because they were too caught up with everything. “I mean, usually Jade and I are the ones saying those things to ourselves, so, if we thought it was weird we wouldn’t do it, right? Also, I think it was kinda funny seeing this new side of you.”

Jaehyun hummed, taking a bite of apricot, feeling relieved they didn’t see the whole night as a failure.

“Thank you for trusting me,” Jade said, caressing his cheek. “I know you were scared, and I know this was totally out of your comfort zone but you completely gave up control to us and that means a lot. I honestly thought you were going to safeword so many times but you didn’t, so I hope you truly enjoyed every part of it.”

He blushed again, humming and snuggling closer to her, “I – I never even thought about the safeword once.”

“It never got so intense that you thought about stopping?” Johnny asked, surprised to hear that.

He shook his head, it had gotten intense but he felt safe, it was risky, considering they didn’t discuss ground rules before but he also knew that by now they knew him too well and knew his limits. “It was too good, I think… I think I really like attention.”

“That’s all that matters,” she said, smiling tenderly at him.

“Was – was I good enough?” Jaehyun asked hesitantly, shily looking at her. “Was it how you imagined?”

“Peach, yes,” she said. “You were so good, you took so much. And also remember that it’s not a performance, it’s supposed to be a fun, intimate time. You don’t have to feel pressured to meet some kind of expectations.”

“Yeah, but you wanted to try this for so long,” he whispered, feeling sleep take over him again. “I know how much this meant for you.”

“A sex fantasy will never mean more than what you mean to me, but yes, it was exactly how I imagined, actually, even better.”

“And you?” He asked, talking to the others after smiling at her.

“We had so much fun, I think it’s pretty obvious,” Yuta smiled, reassuring him. “You were a good boy if that’s what you want to hear.”

“Oh, shut up, it makes me blush,” he whined, throwing his head back before yawning.

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” Taeyong said, cleaning his hands on a napkin and grabbing the empty plate from Jaehyun’s lap.

“Yeah. Do I have to carry you in?” Jade joked, leaving a peck on his cheek, making him flush red once again.

“No, but I think I might need to lean on someone,” he replied, stretching, feeling his limbs shake. He was wrecked, everything had been so intense and he knew that he was going to pass out once again as soon as his head touched the pillow, and he wasn’t so sure his legs could carry him inside with no support.

“Come here, pretty boy,” Johnny said, reaching out his hand and waiting for him to grab it, standing up and immediately leaning against him, waiting for Jade to support him on the other side and walk inside, followed by Yuta and Taeyong.

After they got in bed, sleep took over soon, and while Jaehyun was squeezed between Johnny and Jade, and Taeyong was tangled with Yuta at the side, he whispered, “I love you, so, so much…”

And before their eyes could get too heavy, they all replied, “We love you too.”

hope you liked it, please leave feedback! ♡ if you want to be added to the taglist for this series please add your username here

#nct poly #jaehyun smut #johnny smut #taeyong smut #yuta smut #sub!jaehyun #johnjae smut #johntae smut #yujae smut #jaeyong smut #nct 127 scenarios #all's well that ends well to end up with you

498 notes · View notes

distortionbobble · 2 years

Text

something in the orange (oneshot)

pairing: frank castle x f!reader

summary: you fell in love with frank castle almost twenty years ago. through the bad, through the good, you loved him. you were his best friend, after all. but after his death, and all the things he did as the punisher, you don’t know where you stand. (best friends to lovers)

warnings: minors (under 18) and ageless blogs dni! blasphemy (just a little bit), mentions of child abuse/an abusive parent, oral (f! and m! recieving), p in v, edging kinda? just general smut warnings and maybe a little angst at the end

word count: 12.2k

a/n: i worked on this for a very long time and i’m really really proud of it so i hope you guys enjoy! if you have any recommendations on how i could’ve built their friendship differently or what you wanna see more of lemme know. as always comments and reblogs are so so appreciated. thanks !

“I understand how you’re feeling.”

“No, you don’t,” the boy in front of you spits out. He’s tense, coiled in a way that you recognize all too well because it’s been you before. Aaron, the teenager in front of you, is one that you’ve been working with since he was arrested during a street fight that was unofficially linked to one of the many mafias that poison New York City. The court mandated that he would visit you every week, Friday at 3 PM, right after he gets out of school.

And you swear, you’ve been making progress with him. The first meeting you had with him, he refused to say a damn thing and the two of you sat wordlessly, staring at each other as you played your favorite songs from your little speaker. Every kid is different, you know that. You just gotta give them time to unwind. The first word he’d said was two weeks later, when you asked him how his day was and he responded with a gruff “fine”.

He’s really a gentle kid, even if he won’t acknowledge it. He likes art, likes to talk to you about art. The only reason he’s involved with the mafia is because the rest of his family is. Or was, you suppose. They were killed last Saturday, gunned down by a man who should’ve been dead a hundred times before his actual death.

Frank Castle.

~~~

“I know this is a little unusual, but I believe the circumstance calls for it, my dear. I’m hoping that putting you next to him, and, if you can, having you tutor him, will help his behavior quite a lot. You’re one of my best students, you know.”

Your teacher stared up at you expectantly, tapping her neatly manicured nails on the desk. The sound was jarring and loud, almost overstimulating as you blinked and considered her words.

Normally, you wouldn’t have batted an eye at the request. It’s the most normal thing in the world, putting the troublemaker and the golden student together to encourage compliance.

But Frank Castiglione scared you. Not that you had actually talked to him before, but his reputation preceded him. Hushed voices spoke of bloody knuckles that followed the fights he’d have with anyone that looked at him funny. It didn’t help when he came into class with a split lip and the fury of a starved tiger.

“Please,” Ms. Beck added, gaze still trained on you as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“…Okay.” You were reluctant, but you didn’t feel you had much of a choice. After all, you wanted her to write your recommendation letters for college next year, and if you turned this down, it could jeopardize that. Besides, it was only for an hour a day.

You spun on your heel and marched back to your desk. You forced your back to remain ramrod straight, hiding any trace of fear because if you showed it, Frank would eat you up. You stopped at his desk— your desk too, now— and swung your backpack onto the floor with a loud thud. You were adamant on not looking at him, but you felt his eyes boring a hole into your skull as you focused straight ahead.

Frank scoffed quietly and began to dig his pencil into the desk, carving his initials in jagged lines of graphite in the wood.

“Quit that,” you hissed. He paused, looking at you with his pencil still jammed into the desk. You turned to look at him now. You figured that if you were gonna interact with Frank, you could start off with having a goal for every conversation. The goal for this one was for him to stop fucking up the desks.

He was still staring at you, like he was confused. Confused on why you’d talk to him or why he shouldn’t damage the desks, you couldn’t tell. You ran your fingers across the surface of your own desk before you spoke again.

“Please.” He didn’t move. “Listen, I wouldn’t care if it was your own stuff. If you wanna draw on yourself, I’ve got a Sharpie in my backpack that you are more than welcome to monopolize. But these desks? Paying for them to be fixed, which the district absolutely will make them do, comes right out of the teachers’ paychecks. You don’t have to love Ms. Beck, but you’re better than fucking with her income because you wanna tell the next set of high schoolers that you were in chemistry.”

Frank’s eyes flicked to you before returning to his pencil, and you breathed a small victory exhale when he held out his palm for you to give him a Sharpie.

Ms. Beck spent the hour explaining how to balance equations. You made a mental note to study it all later because for some reason, you just couldn’t focus with Frank next to you.

You had to admit that part of the reason was because he was so damn attractive. His nose was crooked, with just a slight bump on the slope. You weren’t sure why you thought that was so cute, but you did. And his cheekbones, they were so defined. You wanted to know him, the real him that was hidden behind his facade of delinquency. You weren’t sure why you’d never seen it before.

“Hey, Castiglione,” you said right as the bell rang. He looked at you with a shade of irritation coloring his face, but at least he was humoring you. The glare in his gaze was enough to give you pause, but the mantra of recommendation letter running through your head forced you onwards.

“So I was thinking,” you continued, slinging your backpack onto one shoulder then the other as you walked next to him out of the classroom. “I don’t know how great you’re doing in chem, but I could use a study buddy. How about after school? At the library?”

“Okay. And don’t call me Castiglione.” Frank’s voice was gruff, like he hadn’t used it in a while. You hid your smile as you turned and walked to your next class.

~~~

2:30. The second that the minute hand kissed the six on the clock, you jumped out of your seat, grasping your French homework in your hands and stuffing it into your bag to get to the library quicker.

It was raining slightly as you jogged out of the portable to the main building, and you silently wished that it wouldn’t still be raining later when you were to walk home.

You collided into someone roughly as you turned the corner to the library. It sent you backwards, right onto your ass and you looked up to see Frank standing there looking guilty.

“Cast-Frankie, you weren’t planning on pulling a runner on me, were you?” You said with a mock gasp, laughing when his skin flushed and he mumbled out a sorry excuse for an explanation as he held out a hand to help you up.

You couldn’t help but notice how strong he was and how warm his hand was when he did. Frank pulled you flush to his chest, and you were so distracted by him that you didn’t realize you were still holding his hand after you were already up. You only realized you were still holding it when he cleared his throat, and you let go of his hand as if it burned you.

“Can we review, um, the stuff about the valence electrons from the beginning of class? Think I fell asleep that day,” Frank asked shyly.

“Only if you’re cool with me going over the stuff we learned today. I couldn’t focus at all,” you say, settling into one of the chairs at the library and pulling out your chem textbook from your backpack.

“Alright. As for the valence electrons,” you hummed, flipping through your notebook to a month ago, when school had started, “I like to think of the atoms as… sentient. Like they’ve got a goal and they want to do certain things, you know?”

Frank nodded, but you could tell he was unsure where you were going with this.

“Okay. So the goal is for a full valence electron shell. For hydrogen and helium, they both have a valence shell capability of 2 electrons. But for the other ones, they have an outer shell capability of eight. Atoms have a goal to react with things to try and balance out the number of electrons they have so they have a full valence shell. For the ones that are close to their goal, like the halogen family with fluorine, they’ll do anything. They’re desperate to get their goal, to get that full valence shell.”

“They’re slutty.” You snorted loudly at Frank’s words, covering your mouth as you giggled when the librarian angrily shushed you from the other side of the room.

Frank didn’t say anything, just looked at you with a hint of amusement tugging his lips upwards in what seemed like a smile. You didn’t think he knew how to.

You turned back to your books when you realized you’d been staring for longer than you could justify, but you couldn’t subdue the warmth that had risen to your cheeks.

“Okay, ahem, let’s… uh, valence electrons.”

~~~

The sun was set when you and Frank walked side-by-side out of the library. October’s rains were cold on your skin, and you cursed the fact that you’d forgotten a jacket and would have to walk home now.

“Well, I’ll see you…” you began, turning to Frank but he was already gone, “later.”

Your voice dissipated in the onslaught of raindrops and you couldn’t see much except for the glow of the street lights reflecting in the raindrops.

Maybe you’d imagined him, after all.

So you turned away, gripping the straps of your backpack and ignoring the way that the water runs down your back and plasters your clothes to your skin. The dampness of your skin and the cold that it brought made you acutely aware of your heart beating in your chest and you dreaded having to walk home right now.

You didn’t make it far before a truck pulled up beside you. Frank rolled down his window. “Get in,” he uttered. You quickly made it to the passenger side of his truck and threw your backpack onto the floor of the truck, shivering from the aftermath of the outdoors.

“Here,” Frank said, tugging his hoodie over his head and handing it to you. You catch a glimpse of the jagged lightning bolts and symbols that he’d drawn on his arms during class and you smiled internally, accepting the hoodie.

“Thanks,” you murmured. He nodded and stepped on the accelerator.

“Where to?” He asked. The car was silent, but you didn’t mind. The traffic lights above you lit up his face with red and the moment felt soft in your heart.

“Oh, um, it’s just straight on Parsons, and then turn right when you see the Rite Aid.” He hummed in response. “Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I haven’t known you for very long, but you’re not… not scary. Not the way people say you are.” He laughed quietly at your words, like he thought they were funny but you meant it. Frank Castiglione, in the past couple hours you’d known him, had been nothing but quiet, attentive, and kind. Which didn’t match the image he’d built himself in your school. It was like he wanted people to fear him, just so they’d leave him alone.

“Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled. He gripped the steering wheel so tight you could see little abrasions in his knuckles as they turned whiter. “We’re here,” he said, pulling into your street. You muttered a quick thanks as you stooped down to collect your backpack and shifted it onto your lap, moving to pull his sweatshirt over your head before Frank’s hand settled on your shoulder. “You can give it back later, y’know.”

“Oh. Thanks, I’ll wash it and give it to you in school on Monday, ‘kay?” You said, hopping out of his car with a grin. “Should we meet up at yours on the weekend?”

Frank shook his head quickly and you tried to hide the way your smile faltered at his response but you knew he saw. He cleared his throat and looked down at his steering wheel before looking back at you. “Could we- could we do yours instead? Your place, I mean.”

“Yeah, of course. Works great for me, cos then I don’t even have to walk home. We could do that on the weekdays too, if you’re okay with that.” Frank nodded hesitantly, and you smiled back at him before swinging his door shut and running to your front door in the cover of the rain.

By the time you turned to wave goodbye to him, he was already gone.

~~~

“Aaron, it’s okay to grieve. Allow yourself to feel that, to sit with that. It’s not your fault,” you say, but the teenager shakes his head in frustration.

“You don’t get it. You didn’t know them. To you, all my family means is a bunch of criminals that got me involved in the mafia. You never knew the good. You don’t really mean what you’re saying, and I know it,” Aaron says bitingly.

“I’ve met enough people in my lifetime to know that there is good in everyone, even if I personally haven’t experienced it,” you respond coolly. Aaron squeezes his palms together and looks up, like he’s trying to stop the tears from building. You know he hasn’t been given the chance to work through this, to have the chance to grieve because to any mafia, death is just a part of the calling. It’s supposed to be a point of revenge, a source of raw brute strength, not a weakness.

But you don’t want Aaron to just be some kid who is inevitably stuck in the mafia, you want him to know that there’s a different way of thinking. To break free of that cruel machismo persona that is forced onto the young men of Aaron’s community.

You try to get through to him again. “How about you tell me about some of your favorite memories with them?”

Aaron looks at you, then at the paintings on the walls. You notice that it’s raining outside as Aaron swallows and decides what it is he wants to say.

“My, uh, my brothers. They’d come sit in my room when I was doing my homework— they were all older than me. They wanted me to stay far, far away from this stuff, but Dad thought it was better for my future to keep me connected, in a sense.”

Aaron looks up at you. He’s seeking your approval as he breaks it all down, piece by piece, until his grief is out in the open for him to take in all at once. You nod encouragingly, with all the softness and understanding you can muster.

“Yeah. Yeah, they’d come in and sit in my room while I was doing homework, even if they didn’t know what I was doing or studying. Sometimes they’d help me if they could, if I had any questions. They really cared, they really loved me, y’know?”

You nod at him, but your mind is far, far away, decades ago, next to a boy that used to do the same damn thing for you.

~~~

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d left your house for something that wasn’t school.

Even Frank’s study sessions with you, for the past four months, had been cut short. But you could feel yourself growing closer to him, the attraction you felt for him settling into the background as your friendship began to grow. And thankfully, Frank was really starting to get better at chemistry. You weren’t sure why he’d struggled so much before the two of you were studying together, because once he had a little bit of quiet to do the work and study, he didn’t even need you. You’d even wager that he knew the material a little better than you did. You couldn’t complain though, because studying with Frank was the highlight of your day.

It did suck, though, spending the weekends and late nights studying for the SATs. You felt like you were going stir crazy, and the equations scribbled on post-it notes and stuck on your walls only felt like they were starting to enclose on you. There was only so much you could study, anyways.

You bit back a scream and buried your face in your hands, chucking your pen across the room before standing up to pace back and forth. There was that story about the woman from the Victorian era, the one who went mad with the yellow wallpaper. You felt a little like her at that moment. You threw your window open, poking your head out into a crisp wintery evening and breathing deeply. Then you heard a familiar voice call your name out, and you turned to look in disbelief at Frank Castiglione standing in your backyard on frosty grass with a little plastic grocery bag in his hand and looking very, very cold. “What the fuck? Frank, get inside, it’s so cold out there!” You hissed, turning away to find some sort of rope or something to help Frank get in. But he scaled up the tree right next to your bedroom window and inched himself further into your window until he could swing himself into your room.

“Shit, lemme put my shoes on the bag so they don’t make your room dirty,” he muttered. You were still staring at him, gaping at him in total confusion when he turned to you with the biggest grin on his face and a shiny little CD that had your name written, all jagged and crooked, in Sharpie. “Made you a mixtape,” He offered uselessly.

“Frank, what? I have to study!”

“I know, I know. It’s just that you’ve seemed a little bummed out recently and I figured you haven’t been doin’ much outside of studying, cos hey, if you were doin’ it you’d be talking my ear off about it during our study sessions. So I, y’know, assumed. Sorry if I was wrong,” Frank rambled. You noticed he was doing that thing he got when he was nervous about embarrassing himself, rubbing the back of his neck and blushing like a tomato. You hid your smile behind the back of your hand as you marched over to him and took the CD from his grasp.

“Thanks. And I don't talk your ears off, your ears are very happy to hear me talking.” Frank snorted at your words, and you gave him the biggest, most genuine smile you could muster as you began to play the CD. “So, Castiglione.”

“Hate that name.”

“Even if it’s yours?”

“It’s never felt like mine,” he said, sitting himself on the floor next to your bed and resting his head on the mattress behind him.

“Why not?” you asked him, coming to sit next to him and mimicking his position. You could see the little glow in the dark star stickers that you’d put up when you were just a kid, from ages ago, and they still made you smile. You wanted to see Frank smile, you thought to yourself.

He shrugged, eyes trained on the ceiling as the fan spun its blades round. “Reminds me too much of my old man,” he decided after a while. “And I don’t wanna be him. Not ever.”

“What about Castle instead? Sounds kinda similar to Castiglione, so you could get away with getting people at school to adjust to it easy-peasy, but it’s your own name. Frank Castle.”

“I like the sound of that,” Frank said with a laugh, bumping your shoulder with his own before resting his head on yours.

“Alright, Castle. How’d you know I was in dire, desperate need of a break?” You giggled, kicking at his legs just slightly with your own. There was some part of you that needed this, needed to be next to Frank or just connected to him even in the most fleeting of touches.

“Mm. Been stalking you, of course,” he snorted, withdrawing from you just enough to flick your skull with his fingers.

“Shut up. You’re so annoying, y’know.” You didn’t mean it, and he knew that, which is why Frank laughed at your dispassionate dig.

“Was just joking. Knew you’d be up, anyways. You’ve been looking like a raccoon recently, and I know how stressed you get when there’s tests ‘n shit coming up.”

“Thanks, Frankie. How have things been outside of school?” You said, nuzzling your cheek further into Frank’s shoulder. You felt him tense up under you and for a second, you were worried that you’d pushed too far. It wasn’t meant to be malicious, though. You wanted to know that Frank was better than before, even if he smiled more around you and seemed happier overall.

He shrugged. “Same as always, I guess. You know my old man and I aren’t exactly close.” And you wanted to ask what that meant, but you figured it simply wasn’t your place. It didn’t seem like something that Frank wanted to talk about. Not right now, at least.

“My SAT is on Sunday. Two days,” you sighed, getting up from the floor. Frank stayed seated there, and you felt his gaze as he scanned you. You wonder what he saw, if he saw the tension in your back that you felt. Frank could read you like a book. You didn’t know how he did it but he knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.

“Alright, I guess I’ll head out then,” He said, but you shook your head as you sat down to study and turned around to face him.

“Stay. You can take a nap or something or just chill out—I’ll keep the music playing, I like the songs you put on the CD.” Frank nodded and flopped back onto your bed, and you returned to studying.

At that moment, your mom knocked on your door, calling out your name.

“I’m studying!” You shouted back, hiding a nervous laugh when you looked at Frank on your bed. Your parents would probably kill you if they knew that Frank was here. They loved him, but you weren’t so sure they’d love him in your room after hours.

“Sure. Tell Frank he can use the front door next time. And that we say hi and that he has to go home by eleven, ‘kay?”

“Will do, ma’am!” He called back. Your mother opened the door to look at the two of you and smiled, before she shut the door again.

“I can’t believe she knew you were here. And she didn’t wanna kick you out. How?” You laughed, tossing your pen at him and laughing when it hit him with an oof.

“Beats me,” he shrugged, stretching onto your bed.

You didn’t know why either. But you knew one thing: just having him near you brought you comfort. You didn’t know much, but you knew that you adored being around Frank Castle.

~~~

“What do I do now?” Aaron asks, swiping at the corners of his eyes as he cries. You hand him the box of tissues and he accepts them graciously, dabbing at his tear-stained cheeks.

“Death is a hard thing for anyone to come to terms—”

“No, not just their death,” Aaron interrupts. His voice is so heavy with grief that it hurts to listen to. “Castle’s death, too. I wish I could’ve found him and killed him myself, because I want him to hurt the way I do right now. The hurt that everyone he’s killed felt. And now he’s dead? That feels too easy, ma’am.” There’s that undercurrent of anger, sharp and unrelenting and you know it won’t go away, not for years, not for decades. It’s the kind of anger that you learn to live with, not the kind you let go.

It’s the kind of anger that you still hold for Frank Castle’s father.

You sigh, and rub your shoulders as you lean back. “Aaron,” you say softly. You’re worried that if you go about this wrong, you’ll lose all the progress you’ve made with him thus far. “There are people in this world that die painlessly despite all the hell they’ve put others through. And that kind of death isn’t something you move on from in days, or months. You don’t have to let go of your anger, ever, even if others try to force you to do so. So it’s okay to be angry, and to grieve, and to wish that—” you can’t bring yourself to say Frank’s name, you just can’t— “That the man who murdered your parents suffers a thousand lifetimes.”

“It’s not fair,” he bites out. You nod. “You’re right, it’s not. And it leaves us with no choice but to accept what’s happened, and to try and move on. Even if it hurts, even if some days are worse than others. You take it one day at a time and you hold onto that anger if it helps you keep going, but that’s what matters. Taking it one day at a time.”

Aaron’s gaze meets yours and you know, in the millisecond that he looks at you, really looks at you, that he sees more than you intended to show. He’s perceptive and he knows, somehow, that you hold the same anger he holds. But he doesn’t say anything, just exhales and a little bit of the tension leaves your body.

You don’t say anything. You’ll give Aaron the space he needs until he’s ready.

~~~

Ever since that night, Frank Castle had developed a habit of showing up right after dinner time, sneaking in through your bedroom window even when the door was unlocked. You’d told him that a few times, too, but he favored coming in through your bedroom window for some reason that you just couldn’t piece together.

The snow had fallen and melted, and the flowers had bloomed all in the time that you’d taken to become Frank Castle’s best friend.

You were on the phone with Frank, sitting on your bed with the home phone as your mom prepared dinner.

“So I’ll see you tonight, yeah?” You said.

“Get off the phone, I wanna talk to my boyfriend!” your younger sister whined from across the house.

“I’ll be done soon!” You shouted back. “Frankie?”

“Yeah. I’m lookin’ forward to it, I’m so excited to not have to use my brain for a couple hours.”

“Since when do you use your brain?” You asked jokingly, but as you did, you heard Frank’s parents yelling in the background.

He sighed. “Shit, I gotta go. But I’ll be there, just leave your window open like usual.” Then he cut the line, and you stared at the device in your hand, confused.

“I’m getting on the phone, I don’t care if you’re still talking to your loverboy or not!”

“He’s not my loverboy!”

~~~

You were reading on your bed when you heard the telltale shuffling of leaves and branches that signaled Frank’s arrival.

“Hey MTV, welcome my crib,” you giggled, not bothering to look up from your book when you heard his feet thump into your room. But when Frank was silent, instead of laughing how he usually did, you got up in concern to see him standing there with red-rimmed eyes and an ugly purple bruise on his cheekbone, sniffling quietly as he wiped his eyes with his sleeves.

“Frankie?” You asked, rushing to his side and wrapping your arms around his middle as he cried.

“I- oh, God, I just, give me a— a minute” he stammered out, crying into your shoulder as he sank into your embrace.

“It’s okay, Frankie,” you said, holding him tightly. “You don’t have to talk. I’m here for you.” His shoulders shook and it lit a cold fire inside you, because Frank did not break like this. Frank was a force of fucking nature and to see him shaken like this was like seeing the ocean brought down to its knees. It was wrong. And you’d make whoever hurt him like this pay. They’d see hell at your hands, that much you could promise.

Frank remained with his head tucked into your shoulder long after the strength had left his body and he could cry no longer. But he held onto you still like you were his strength, like he would fall apart if he let go of you.

“Was my dad,” he said finally. Frank’s voice was rough with the force of his sadness, scratchy and thick in his throat. “He found out I skipped church this Sunday and decided that he needed to remind me of everything I’ve ever done to let him down. How I’m not as good as Anthony, never will be. Always the black sheep of the family. He decided to throw me around for good measure, so I fought back. Knocked him out and I came running to you. Like a coward.” He sounded so defeated that you couldn’t help but draw him closer to you, like your arms could protect him from the cruelty of his father.

“You’re no coward. He should never have laid a hand on you, Frankie, I’m so sorry. Do you want me to grab some frozen peas real quick?” Frank shook his head, arms wrapped around your torso and squeezed you a hair tighter.

“No, I can deal with it. He does this a lot.” With that, it all clicks in your head— the rumors of all the fights, the little scars on his knuckles, the split lips he used to sport. It was his father abusing him this whole time. You wanted to crush his father’s windpipe for hurting Frank, and watch the life fade from his eyes. And you wanted to cry, just thinking of all that Frank had endured, but you needed to be strong for him. So you held back your tears, and kissed his head to give him all the love you had.

“Frankie, your father cannot force you to join the priesthood or join the parish or however you say it. Know that no matter what, the choice will stay in your hands. And you’re not the black sheep. Not to me. You’ll never be anything less than your own wonderful, dynamic, caring person. You’re Frank Castle. Your father had no right to use the mistakes you might’ve made when you were younger against you. Plus, everything you’ve done so far is to keep him happy. You're so smart and he just doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see you but I see you and I love you, Frank. You’re my best friend for a reason,” you said softly. Clumsy words tumbled out of your mouth, but you needed Frank to know that his dad’s words were bullshit.

“I’m sorry for coming here like this,” Frank whispered.

“Don’t you dare apologize. Not for this, not to me.”

“Will you distract me?” He asked you, an inkling of hope coloring his tone. You smiled softly against his skin but didn’t let go. He’d been hurt tonight. And for as long as you’d let him, you’d shield him from the world and help him glue back together the pieces of himself with a smile on your face. Frank was your safe place, and you wanted to be his safe place too.

“So, uh, Jake asked me out,” you started, staring at the ceiling. You didn’t really like Jake like that, but he was cute and sweet and you thought maybe you could have a fun date with him. Besides, you couldn’t keep pining after Frank. After months of friendship, you were pretty damn sure he didn’t see you like that and confessing would just ruin what you had.

“Really?” Frank asked, lifting his head up to look at you. There was something you couldn’t quite place on his face, a look that was familiar but not on Frank’s face. You dismissed it and nodded with a soft smile. He was your best friend, he’d be happy for you, right?

“I dunno, he’s nice, I guess. I said yeah, so we’re going to the movies Friday night.”

“Didn’t he take Marcy to junior prom?” Frank asked, rolling himself off of you to rest on his back next to you.

“Yeah, but he’s not into her. He told me that they’re just friends and y’know how it is when everyone in the friend group is going together.”

“Oh,” Frank said blankly. He didn’t look at you, just traced the little stars in your ceiling with his finger and made constellations only he could see.

“Will you help me choose an outfit?” you asked him. You felt like he was mad at you and you hated that. You didn’t mean to sound so desperate but you’re sure Frank could sense it. He always did with you. And there was that part of you that you tried so hard to bury all the time, the part that wanted him to confess to you that he loved you. But he didn’t, so you forced yourself to ignore the way your heart wanted to stop time to sit next to him for all eternity.

“Yeah. You said it’s Sunday, right?” He said. You were sure you imagined the gruffness in his voice just then but the thought vanished entirely from your head when Frank looked at you. His lips were tugged into that lopsided smile that made you feel like your heart was gonna burst from your chest, and how could you think of anything else when you saw him?

For a minute, you want to tell him. Fuck Jake and the movies. The words sit light and sweet on the tip of your tongue, IthinkI’minlovewithyou, but you bite your tongue and wish that now was forever.

~~~

You’d called Frank halfway through your stupid date with Jake.

Jake had taken you to a drive-in movie theater, which had sounded romantic at first but had resulted in you losing your virginity in the backseat to a guy who was too sloppy to even care about whether you felt good or not.

Afterwards, when you were pulling your panties back on under your skirt, he’d flipped down his driver’s side vanity to look at himself and asked you to keep this whole thing “quiet” because he really liked Marcy and was planning on asking her to be his girlfriend.

And then he’d asked you if he should drop you off at home. Your hair was mussed up and lips swollen from his rough (and awful) kissing, so you shook your head and told him you’d just watch the movie from the front seats near the projector.

Instead, you’d walked off to the entrance of the park when Jake had driven away, and called Frank asking him to pick you up.

You saw him now, the lights of his truck a beacon of sanity after what you could safely classify as the worst first date experience you’d ever had.

“You look rough,” Frank called out to you once he was stopped right next to you. You threw open his door and climbed in with a scoff, rubbing your face with the palms of your hands and ruining the already messed-up makeup.

“Frankie,” you whined, tilting your head back to rest on the headrests.

“You got your lip gloss all over your face, dummy,” Frank said after a beat. You tried to wipe it off with the back of your hand and looked at Frank for his approval. He shook his head and brought his hand to your face, swiping the lip gloss from your cheek and under your lips. The tip of his thumb ran across the skin on the bottom of your lower lip, and you swore his eyes were trained on your lips before he withdrew his hand.

God, you wanted it back.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

“Alright, where to now?” Frank asked you, speeding as he got the two of you out of the park.

“Can we just… drive?” You asked, rifling through Frank’s CD collection before selecting the identical copy of the one he’d made for you seven months ago. “Didn’t realize you had this in your truck. Attaboy, Frankie,” You said to him with a wide grin.

“Attaboy?” He laughed. The stop lights and streetlights were all a blur as he drove, and you felt all of your troubles melting from the warmth that was Frank.

“Fits you, I suppose,” you hummed, lost in the music that you’d listened to so often thanks to Frank’s CD.

“I like that. I’m taking that now,” Frank laughed.

Frank didn’t ask you questions about your bad date until you wanted to talk to him about it. He was sympathetic when you told him, and while he could’ve said I told you so, deservedly, he’d kept it locked up until you said it yourself, and then he laughed at you and agreed. But strangely, you didn’t really care about your bad date, or losing your stupid virginity to a stupid boy. You cared about being in this car with Frank.

You cared about Frank, that’s all.

~~~

A myocardial infarction.

That’s what the doctors had told Frank when his father sat down after dinner with a chest ache and never opened his eyes again.

It seemed too easy to you, too peaceful for someone who had been so abusive in his lifetime. Why did he get it so easy? He didn’t deserve that, he deserved to rot in jail until the taste of sunshine was a forgotten memory to his skin.

Mr. Castiglione’s funeral was a solemn affair. He’d been on the police force, and some of his old coworkers were in attendance at the funeral. Dressed in all black, you wondered what they were mourning. Did they know the outlet of his anger? Did they ignore the concerned calls from the neighbors because they knew whose house it was?

You stayed by Frank’s side the entire time. Your family had been more than understanding, cooking enough to feed Frank’s family too to support the Castigliones in their time of mourning. You knew the bastard didn’t deserve the mourning, but after his father’s death, Frank had been… concerning.

He stood now, above his father’s grave in the rain long after the last bit of dirt had been shoveled on to the grave. When Frank spoke, his voice was gravel and broken glass.

“I kept waiting,” he said. Then he fell silent, and you let your head fall onto his shoulder as he stared blankly at the fresh dirt. You held an umbrella above the two of you, even when your arm ached from the effort of keeping the two of you dry. Mostly to keep Frank dried. That’s what you were concerned with. “Kept waiting for him to be my dad. And it never came. I’m— I’m glad he died. He can’t hurt me anymore, not six feet under.” You looked down to see Frank’s fingers clenching the fabric of his coat. You didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded quietly.

Frank fell to his knees with a thud, still staring blankly at the ground. You knelt down to his level, still maintaining the umbrella over his head. You’d keep him safe however you could, you decided. Frank dug into the dirt with his hands, disturbing the grave as it settled and just… held it up to his face. Then he tossed the dirt to the side, disturbing the orderly appearance of the monster’s grave. “Husband, officer, father,” he muttered angrily under his breath. “A failure in all. A failure in life. Husband, officer, failure.”

You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to nod, but you didn’t know if this was a burden that would be more painful to share than to shoulder alone. But you wouldn’t let Frank be lonely. You thought of the bitter man, whose heart had been filled with such poison that it simply gave way. You hoped that his last moments were excruciating, that every nerve was alight with pain and that he regretted every breath he’d taken in his damned life. Wishful thinking.

“He taught me how to shoot a gun,” Frank said. His voice sounded robotic, hollow. You turned your head to face him, and brought your free hand to his cheekbones to collect the teardrops that fell. “Taught me to throw a punch, taught me how to make a bruise go away faster. Everything of violence, everything of hate.” He got to his feet, and you mimicked his actions silently, arm stiff from the weight of the umbrella.

Frank looked at you and silently pushed your arm down. You dropped the umbrella as you looked into his solemn eyes, and Frank took your hand in his own as the rain swallowed the two of you whole. You felt invisible with Frank Castle. The rain washed clear the grief on his face, and he gave a bitter smile before he walked away from his father’s grave with his hand still holding yours.

~~~

“Thanks for listening, ma’am,” Aaron says, shrugging on his jacket as he gets ready to leave your office.

The two of you had spent the hour working through all the good memories Aaron had with his dad and brothers, and though Aaron still carried that unshakable grief on his shoulders, you could tell that it was a little lighter.

“It’s what I’m here for, kiddo.”

He smiles at you before he heads out of your office, and you close the door.

You felt a smidge of guilt deep inside. The little things that Aaron had mentioned today had brought Frank to the forefront of your consciousness, but you knew that wasn’t him anymore. No, Frank had gone from your best friend to murdering people just because they got caught up in the wrong side of things. And it had hurt Aaron, which haunted your thoughts when you saw Frank’s face in your mind.

The last time you’d seen Frank’s face was the mugshot they’d broadcasted on the news. You could still see traces of the old Frank, the one you’d loved as your other half, but it was all fragmented pieces in a man that had lost far too much.

You shake off the thoughts of Frank and try to turn your focus back to your work. Aaron was your last appointment of the day, and you’d done anything else you needed to do on your break between clients.

You spend the next twenty minutes updating Aaron’s files— going through what worked with him, and the initial anger that he showed up with. And when you’re all done with your work, you pack up your things and turn the lights off, ready to walk the five blocks to get to your apartment.

You’ve always liked walking. Tonight, the smog of the city is a little lighter and you feel sharp, alert. You hear thunder clap in the distance as the skies begin to pour down on you but you don’t mind the rain, not tonight. You don’t bother to put on a jacket or grab your umbrella, allowing the rain to drench you. You feel warm still, despite the downpour as you walk home.

~~~

It felt like senior year passed by in a blur.

Frank didn’t like to talk about college applications much, so you really didn’t ask, but it was something that loomed over all of your heads. What would you do after high school? What career did you want to go into? It all seemed so daunting, but there was comfort to be had in knowing that everyone was going through the same dilemma.

Frank’s parents still thought he was gonna become a priest. The two of you had realized that it was safer to let them think that, so he kept his mouth shut and quietly saw the end of his religious career. Frank was too hot-headed to be a priest, anyways. When he saw Jake sometime in the middle of senior year, he’d slammed the other boy into the lockers until you’d tugged the side of his hoodie and muttered to him that it wasn’t worth the hassle.

Jake wasn’t the only boy you’d slept with, anyways. You had slept with some from your high school, and some from others. They all had two things in common: they were all very unsatisfactory, and none of them could make you feel how Frank did.

Frank, on the other hand, was the same as always. He had asked you if you thought Maria was into him once. You’d responded with a firm no, jealousy in your heart and hot on your tongue as you attempted to quell the feeling. You hadn’t been able to look at another boy since he’d asked that question, because in case he felt the way you did, you didn’t want him to go through the pain of seeing you with someone else. You didn’t want to see him with anyone else.

Frank spent almost every day at your house, sneaking in through your window every time. It was almost a running joke in your family, how Frank would “sneak in” even when the front door was unlocked. He was like your counterpart, going where you’d go and even in your loneliest moments, you weren’t alone, because you had Frank.

Time had passed quickly. The only regret you’d had as the year passed was that you hadn’t befriended Frank sooner, because the time you had with him felt altogether insufficient. You’d gotten into a college nearby, where you planned on studying psychology and seeing where that would take you.

Frank still hadn’t told you what he was gonna do after this. You figured he’d continue with whatever his parents would finance, and as much as you hated the thought, you didn’t know what else he could do. All you could do was trust that Frank had it handled, and if he wanted your support you’d be there before he could even finish asking the question.

Frank Castle was your best friend. He was also the person you dreamt of before sleeping, the one you called when you were happy or sad, the first person you’d share anything with, the one you turned to for comfort, the one you wanted to kiss so desperately that it felt like you couldn’t breathe sometimes.

As the school year had wrapped itself up, the two of you found yourselves skipping prom— “it’s stupid anyways, we could just slow dance in a parking lot and have way more fun”-- and getting matching tattoos of your bedroom window to immortalize your friendship. And then you slow danced in a parking lot, stiff and awkward with the bandages of the tattoo still bulky and the pain just barely radiating as you sang some top 30 hit and Frank twirled you around, humming what he could.

You were leaving for college tomorrow. There was an unspoken tension between you and Frank now, now that your date to move out was so close. Of course, he promised to visit and you promised to call every day, but there was something heavier still. You both knew everything was gonna change, and you hated that. Deeply.

Frank was next to you on your bed now, tossing your pillow in the air and singing along to the radio that you’d put on. You thought he had a beautiful singing voice. You knew he’d been playing guitar for a while, but it was rare for him to be singing like this.

“You sound beautiful,” you blurted out, then turned your head to hide the warmth that singed your cheeks from the impulsive compliment.

“Nah,” Frank chuckled, slinging an arm around your shoulder and bringing your temple to his lips to press a fleeting kiss to your skin. You wished you could get it tattooed. “You’ve got a pretty voice, though. Sing with me?” He asked, swaying your intertwined bodies softly as he continued to hum. You joined your song with his, a clumsy and intimate chorus for just the two of you as you savored the time you got to spend with Frank. “Attagirl,” he said lowly, looking at you with the shadow of something you saw so often on his face nowadays.

And all the emotions that you’d hidden in your dark bubbled up uncontrollably, maybe because of the warmth of Frank’s arm or the heat of his gaze, but your tongue was clumsy and loose and you felt yourself opening your mouth before you could even think to stop yourself.

“I’m in love with you,” you said abruptly. Frank’s body relaxed against yours as he looked at you in shock, blinking at you as the two of you processed what you had just said.

“What?”

“No, no, fuck, I didn’t mean to tell you that,” you panicked, getting up from your bed and backing away from Frank.

“But you meant it.”

“What?”

“You said you didn’t mean to tell me that. But you meant it.”

“Fuck, Frank, does it matter?” You urged, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyebrows.

“Yes, it does. Are you in love with me?” He asked. Frank’s voice was low, and it made it hard for you to read him. Tears pricked at your eyes as your body internalized the panic you were feeling. You felt frozen but Frank’s proximity forced you to spill out the truth, a frantic yesohgod that you wish you could’ve trapped on your tongue instead.

Frank’s big palms met your jaw softly, holding your face in place as his thumbs ran over your cheekbones. “Now ask me what I feel,” he said.

“What do you feel?” You whispered. Your mind was blank from Frank’s touch, and the only thing you could process was the softness and warmth of his skin against yours.

“I’m in love with you.” He said your name, sweeter than a prayer, and brought his forehead to rest on yours. The tip of his nose just barely pressed against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips. “I’m in love with you, and I have been for a very long time. I love you. I love you.”

You whimpered softly and you weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or kiss him. It was almost too much, and the frustration of knowing that he’d loved you this whole time was enough to drive you mad.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, eyes still closed as you soaked in the radiance of being this close to Frank. You felt him nod against you, and that was all the confirmation you needed to press your lips against his. You wished he’d been your first kiss, because all the other boys you’d kissed just couldn’t compare. His lips were soft and hesitant against yours, and your noses collided as you tilted your head to kiss him deeply. You withdrew to catch your breath, and then pecked his lips softly, smiling at him as you guided him to lay down on the bed next to you.

It was familiar, something that you’d done a million times before, and as you brought your lips to Frank’s you couldn’t help but think about how kissing him felt natural. His fingers gripped the hair at the back of your neck as you sat up to keep kissing him, teeth just barely clashing against each other as your tongue met his. You were vaguely aware of how he tasted like cinnamon as you kissed him.

His hands found their way at the hem of your dress, toying with it as the two of you kissed. You paused and pulled it off, leaving you in just your underwear. Frank raised a brow at your state of undress and pulled his own shirt off. The little cross necklace he still wore gleamed in the light of your bedside lamp, and you rubbed it between your forefinger and thumb gently. Frank flicked his brows up as if to say, what now?

You straddled Frank on the edge of your bed and bent to kiss him more. His lips were addictive, molded perfectly to yours, ebbing and flowing against your motions. Frank wrapped his arms around your torso and pulled you flush against him, the skin of your chests only separated by the flimsy fabric of your bra. The force at which you kissed him made it hard to breathe but you didn’t want to breathe, you just wanted to kiss him over and over again until he was sick of you.

Frank’s fingers ran up the length of your spine until they rested at the nape of your neck, where he toyed with the clasp of the necklace you wore. It was the one he’d bought you for your eighteenth birthday, and you wondered if he knew that. You placed a kiss on his nose, the one that you adored so much, and let out a soft giggle at Frank’s shocked expression.

“Oh, c’mon. You know how much I adore your nose.”

“It’s big,” he said with a frown, moving his hand to cover it when you pulled it off and kissed the bridge of his nose some more.

“It’s beautiful. I love your nose, Frankie,” you breathed out, kissing his cheeks and his forehead before twisting to kiss his pretty jaw. As you moved from his jaw to his Adam’s apple, he rocked his hips upward to meet your aching center. You both groaned in unison, and your teeth caught on the skin of his throat as your breath hitched in your throat. The fabric of his jeans was rough on your exposed flesh, providing friction as you ground your pelvis onto his bulge.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and you brought your hand up to cover his mouth as you continued to rock back and forth.

“Quiet, Frankie. You don’t want anyone to hear us, baby,” you teased, biting his pecs and dragging your free hand down the expanse of his chest. You traced his v-line with your nails, smiling when you felt him gasp sharply against your hand. “Just tell me how far to go, ‘kay?” you asked, pulling your hand away to kiss his sweet lips.

“How- how far can we go?” He asked, trembling under your hands as you traced the details of his face with your fingers, still grinding on him through layers of clothing.

“D’you want me to show you? I don’t wanna push you too far.” Frank was frozen under you, and you understood what he was feeling. It was hard to think when you were this close to one another. You smiled and pecked his lips, then ran your fingers under the waistband of his pants. His breathing pattern changed in response to your motions, and you decided that the sound was addicting. He was addicting.

“Do you want this?” You asked, dragging the tip of your nails on his skin as you tugged his pants down an inch. He whispered a yes and that was all the confirmation you needed to drag the rest of it down, kneeling on the floor next to your bed. You rose and pressed a kiss to the inside of his thigh, his bare skin hot on your lips. Then you bit it, lightly, enjoying the way his pale skin flushed when you nipped at it, and soothed it with kisses. You repeated the process on his other thigh, moving up his legs until you were at the rigid lines of his hips.

Frank had a hell of a v-line. He had a hell of an everything, that was a different matter, but you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your tongue on the bones, following the curve to where his cock stood. His tip was wet with beads of precum, and you traced under his pink tip with your tongue before wrapping your lips around it. You traced the tip with your tongue, smiling to yourself when Frank’s hips involuntarily jutted up deeper and he groaned. You took Frank’s hand and placed it gently in your hair, where his hands gripped your hair as he tried his hardest to stay still.

It was adorable how gentle he was trying to be. None of the others were like that, but none of the others mattered, did they? So you shifted your focus to Frank, who looked oh-so-pretty as his composure crumbled with his cock in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the tip before you bobbed your head down, pressing your mouth down on the ridges and veins of his length. It was thick, so much so that it was difficult to take him into your mouth any further, so you replaced your mouth with your hand and licked the base of his cock, working up his shaft.

You worked your hands quickly over his length, hollowing your cheeks around whatever length you could fit in your mouth and rubbing his balls with your hands. Frank let out a choked gasp and you could feel his balls tightening in your hands. You were sure he was close, so you pulled away and ignored the pitiful whine he gave at the loss of your mouth as he neared his climax.

“There’s a condom in my bedside drawer,” you hummed, draping yourself over his bare body. “If you want, we can use it. Only if you want, baby.”

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, let’s do that,” he gasped, propping himself up on his elbow and blindly reaching to open your bedside drawer. You reached in and grabbed the little foil wrapper and moved to tear it, but Frank shook his head furiously and pulled your hips forward. “Lemme make you feel good,” he said. Little pinpricks of heat settled at the back of your neck and your breath hitched in your throat. “You don’t have to, y’know,” you said. With all the boys you’d slept with already, not a single one of them had bothered about how you felt, about making you feel good. But Frank did. Of course he did.

He eased your hips to his face, where you hovered right above the heat of his mouth before his hands shot up and pulled you directly onto his mouth. His tongue began to explore your cunt, using just enough pressure to drive you insane as he circled your clit before sliding down to thrust his tongue into your hole. When your breathing shifted, a soft whine threatening to break out of your mouth, Frank did it again until you were stifling your moans with your hand and riding his tongue. Frank alternated between sucking on your clit and dragging his tongue back and forth, leaving you dripping into his mouth from the overwhelming pleasure as he drove you closer to your climax.

The cords of muscle in your thighs drew taut, and you pushed yourself away from Frank’s sweet mouth and grabbed the foil that lay on your comforter, tearing it and easing the latex condom onto his length. “I wanna feel you,” you said, moving to straddle his legs before easing yourself onto his cock. Frank let out a guttural groan when his tip met your warm cunt.

He was warm and the familiar stretch left you breathless as you eased yourself onto Frank’s cock. He was girthier than anyone you’d fucked before, and it took a minute for you to adjust to the sensation, your velvet walls clenching around his member as you took him in deeper. You bounced yourself as you eased yourself down, fucking into him until you were seated with the backs of your thighs pressed against Frank’s hips.

You rose slowly, then bounced your body back down onto him, enjoying how full he made you feel and the way his cock dragged against your g-spot as you rode him. You were slow, at first, but when you sped up and grabbed his hand to press against your belly where you could feel Frank’s cock, he growled and flexed his hips upward.

Then Frank flipped your joined bodies entirely, using one swift motion to lay your body down while he was still in you.

“Is this— is this okay?” He asked, kissing your forehead as he waited, still buried to the hilt inside of you. Your wordless nod was all the confirmation he needed, and he bottomed out of you before driving into you with a punishing force. You intertwined your legs behind his back and drew him in closer, soft moans leaving your mouth as he fucked you. The cross of his necklace dragged from your collarbones up to your mouth as he leaned over to kiss you, and you bit down on the cold metal to stifle the sounds of pleasure that threatened to spill out as you were brought closer and closer, the coil in your belly making your entire body lock up as your face screwed up in pleasure.

Oh. You never understood the hype about sex, finding it to be inadequate every time that you’d been fucked, but it all made sense now. This was what you needed.

Frank brought his hand to your clit as he continued to slide in and out of you, the metal of his necklace warming up as it still sat on your tongue, and the clink of it against your teeth made Frank look down. “Dio,” he swore, flicking his fingers against your nub as you tightened around his cock. You were close, so close that you wanted to sob. “You look beautiful,” Frank stated, and the way he said it, you would’ve thought he was looking at an angel.

You shattered. Your back arched as he drove deeper into you, seeking his own release as you fell apart with him buried inside of you. “Attagirl,” Frank said, and it only intensified your orgasm. You shut your eyes so tightly that you saw stars, moaning softly as Frank finished at the same time as you. He began to rise away from your body but you brought your arms to bring him back to you, holding him against you so that you could feel his heart beating against yours. Skin and bones and muscle held skin and bones and muscle, and you felt content.

“Baby, I gotta get up,” he laughed into your skin quietly.

“In a minute,” you murmured, stroking the skin of his back gently. “You were perfect, Frankie,” you assured him. Then you let go of him, and he moved to collect his clothes before grabbing your clothes and putting each one on gently, kissing you after every piece he put back on you.

The sun was beginning to rise as you snuck out to the bathroom to pee, washing up and splashing your face with cool water before you returned to where Frank sat at the edge of your bed. His hands were clasped in silent prayer, and you let him finish before he turned to you and gave a smile full of longing.

“You’ll be gone soon, huh?” Frank asked. You nodded. You didn’t know why you wanted to cry right now, but you did, biting under your lip to hold your composure as you realized that you would have to leave Frank. “Hey, hey, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he said, getting up to cradle your face with his palms and kissing your forehead. “You’ll always have me in your corner.” You could feel his lips moving against your forehead, and you held his shirt in your hands as you breathed him in silently. “I’m glad we got to spend tonight together.”

You didn’t have the strength to respond so you just nodded, fit tightly with Frank as you waited for the sun to rise, when Frank would inevitably have to go. You were leaving soon after the sun rose, all your clothes already packed in the suitcases lined up at the door.

So when the sky turned to its light grey hue, you kissed Frank goodbye and watched him fade into the day with a feeling in your heart that told you this was far from over.

~~~

You’re being followed.

Have been for the past six blocks. But that’s not new, it’s something that’s been happening for the past three days. For however long Frank Castle’s been believed to be dead. But you had this gut feeling that it wasn’t over, that he wasn’t really dead.

And judging by the man who’s trailing you in the shadows, you’re right.

You reach your apartment complex, and when you’re walking up the stairs, you pause, squinting in the rain to see the shadowy figure.

“Well?” You ask, annoyance lacing your tone. “Are you gonna come in?”

He steps into the light of the streetlight, and you feel like you’re staring at a ghost. Frank Castle’s face shows all that he’s been through, and you feel a pang in your heart just thinking of everything he’s gone through. You don’t hold his gaze, turning to grasp your key and slotting it into the lock, swinging open the door with Frank on your tail.

Hell of a reunion, you think to yourself, snorting in dreary amusement. Frank glances at you, but he doesn’t say anything. He feels more like a shadow than a man, and you pay him no mind. When you’ve unlocked your door and let yourself into your apartment, you head to the kitchen without sparing him a second glance. “What kinda tea do you like?” You call out to him, cracking your neck and setting the kettle to boil.

“Just black tea is fine, thanks,” he responds. You hear him shuffling— likely taking off his rain-soaked jacket— and then a thump as he settles into your living room sofa.

“Can I ask you why you were following me?” You ask. Your hands are gripping the counters tightly, because your head is throbbing with confusion. You don’t know how to act around him anymore, around this man that once meant more than air itself.

“I wanted to make sure you’re safe,” He says stiffly.

“From what?”

“I’ve made a lot of enemies. With the right digging they’d know exactly who was involved in my life, ever. I couldn’t let you pay for my mistakes,” Frank says. His voice is low and you have to strain to hear him over the hiss of the kettle as it finishes boiling. You pour the water into two mugs, attempting to balance them as you make your way to Frank.

When you hand it to him, you finally get the chance to look at him. There’s some stubble from days of growth that sits on his face, making him look weary. You suppose he is, who wouldn’t be? And in his eyes, there’s a hollowness to them. The product of a never ending cycle of loss.

“I was sorry to hear about Maria and your kids,” you decide, setting your mug down on the coffee table and leaning back onto your sofa. “She was always kind to me, and I’m sure your kids were lovely.” You can see the pain flashing on Frank’s face as you bring up a wound that’s still raw, one that’ll probably never heal.

“Thanks,” he says gruffly. The mug looks almost comically small in his large hands, and you almost smile at the sight.

“Where have you been staying?” You ask, draining the last of your tea before getting up to adjust the pillows of your sofa. You have a sneaking suspicion that Frank’s been staying on the streets, and you simply can’t allow that to happen.

“Just, y’know, around,” he says, avoiding your gaze. You shake your head, and head to your linen closet to fetch some clothes.

“Why don’t you go ahead and freshen up? You can stay at my place for as long as you need.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Frank protests.

“I wasn’t asking. You’re going to stay at my place. I’m not letting you stay out on the street, Frank.” Frank. He was never Frank to you, always Frankie. The name feels foreign on your tongue, but you don’t think you can call him Frankie. That’s not him anymore. “So what now, Castle?” You wonder if he notices that you aren’t calling him Frankie. He’s not your Frankie anymore, and there’s a part of you that mourns the loss of your friendship.

“Why?” It makes sense for Frank to be suspicious. He’s been through too much, but there’s still a bitter taste in your mouth when Frank hints at his distrust towards you.

“You were my friend once,” you say quietly, handing him a fresh towel and directing him to the bathroom. “You’ll always mean something to me. Now go shower, it’s been too long since you’ve taken a bath and it’s painfully obvious. Washer’s over there, I’ll toss your stuff in, and it’ll be done in a little.”

The two of you jump into motion and as you hear the shower starting up, you feel the guilt eating you up inside. You shouldn’t be harboring someone that’s caused so much pain. But hasn’t he also suffered? You make up your mind to talk to him, adjusting the sheets on the couch and arranging it so that Frank could sleep here for a night or two.

Frank comes out not long afterwards, steam billowing out from the bathroom with a towel slung low across his hips. You curse yourself for not being able to resist the sight of his bare chest, mind flashing back to the night you two shared as you sit in silence next to him.

“Frank,” you say finally, “I need to talk to you about something.”

“What is it?” The look on his face is grim. You wonder what he’s thinking.

“I understand what you’re doing with the mafia, and frankly, I don’t really have an issue with you killing them like that. But all you’re doing is fueling the fire.”

“What do you mean by that?” Frank asks hotly. You’ve offended him, great.

“I mean that you have good intentions. But what I’m seeing in my job? Your efforts are only making the next generation of kids feel that vengeance and anger and the mafia is the only outlet they know. I’m saying you gotta refine your targets and take out who actually can influence these things instead of going in blind and killing them based on who they associate with alone. You wanna prove a point? Fine. But you’re better than making things worse just because it’s what you’re used to.”

“And what would you know about me? You gave up on me, gave up on us.” You scoff at Frank’s words.

“Really? Really, Frank? I came home from college two months after I went to college. You hadn’t written me a single letter or called me even once and I thought to myself okay, he’s busy. Then I come home and Maria’s knocked up with a ring on her finger and you’re nowhere to be found. What’s with that, huh?” You sneer. The chime of the dryer lets you know that his clothes are done, but you’re locked in this battle with Frank.

“Because I needed to get out!” He’s nearly shouting now. “I’d expect that you of all people would understand that. And Maria, she was just a mistake at first. Sure, I grew to love her, but her pregnancy was the result of a one night stand and I couldn’t just leave her. I was gonna be a father.”

“I know, Frank. It was all such a mess and I don’t blame you for any of it,” You said, rubbing your temples. “But don’t say I abandoned you. Don’t. I called you, and you never picked up. I was always glad you found happiness but it hurt that you cut me out when you did.”

“I’m sorry,” he acknowledges. But the apology feels hollow, and all you do is nod in response. “I’ll be more careful with who I target. You’re right. I can’t just keep worsening things for my own revenge.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. The two of you sit in silence before Frank moves to get his clothes, and you head to your bedroom door, where you linger before turning to see a fully-dressed Frank.

“I’ll always care for you, Frank, and there will always be a place for you in my home. And when you need a break from fighting, I’ll be here. Just don’t shut me out again, please,” you plead. Frank closes his eyes and nods, and you know he feels the same pain over how things turned out. A future lost to what-ifs.

When you wake up the next morning, there’s not even a trace of Frank, save the flowers he left on the table for you and a note with just the word sorry scribbled on to it. You don’t know when he’ll be back, but you know deep down that he will be back. And you are left certain of two things; you hate him, and you desperately want him to come back.

#frank castle #frank castle smut #frank castle x female reader #the punisher #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #smut #fic #friends to lovers #frank castle friends to lovers #marvel smut #distortionbobble's fics #my writing

388 notes · View notes