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#I ALSO HAD A HARD TIME NAMING THIS FANFIC
lemonluwrites · 1 year
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I am not a Tarsier! - Duality fanfic
This is my entry to the fanfic contest! I hope others as well could find enjoyment in my work also minors DNI my content is not suited for you
this whole fanfic is based on an ask I sent to the creator @dualityvn​ on anon (yes the jig is up it was me all along) this fanfic took me longer then excepted due to certain stuff happening in my life so I’m super happy I was able to get it out on time! I’m also happy to introduce my OC Chase! He’s my little blorbo
I apologize is some things don’t make sense I wrote this in the span of two weeks late at night while sleep deprived
also update on My One And Only (Is You) part two is still being written I have half of it typed up and a few familiar faces will appear 😉
now on to the fanfic:
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Songs used to help write this fanfic (in no particular order) - I NEVER EXISTED By Chase Atlantic | Outrunning Karma By Alec Benjamin | Anti-Hero By Taylor Swift | Nonsense By Sabrina Carpenter
Content Warning - Sexual themes (nothing to graphic) | Mention Of Suicide | Mentions Of Drug Use and Overdose | Cheating | Violence (If I miss anything let me know)
Word count - 6415
Everyone was heading home as news of heavy rain caused a slight panic around the office. Chase guesses it was due to some of their work clothes being expensive or rental. He didn’t really have to worry about that as his suit was a hand-me-down a parting gift to be exact, but he still wouldn’t like to get wet as he remembers his siblings lightly teasing him about how he looked like a cartoon cat when ever it got wet. Fur all lobbed down, miserable and angry looking. Come to think of it, his siblings weren’t the first ones to make the connection his friends also joked about it as well this eventually earned him the nickname Tomcat although that was only partly why they chose that nickname the other part was because of his promiscuous nature.
But that was the old him.
As he was clocking out, one of his co-worker Jacob, had invited him to a club somewhat near the office building. Chase, tired of being cooped up in his apartment, reluctantly agreed although a part of him felt like he didn’t deserve to go out and let loose it almost felt selfish but before Chase could change his mind Jacob was already gone, he sighed as he went to retrieve his umbrella only to realize it was gone great someone must have taken it bastards; He thought bitterly. He looked out the window and saw it had yet started pouring
If I’m quick enough, I think I could make it home, Chase thought before making the ultimate confirmation and racing out the building as he jogged home what started out as small droplets of water slowly turned in to full blow rain storm
”Shit, Shit, Shit fuck me”
Quickly, he used his blazer as some form of umbrella, but that proved to be pointless as his blazer was soaked in a matter of seconds. He knew this was his own fault for thinking he could jog all the way home instead of being a sensible person and calling a taxi but he wasn’t know to be the brightest of the bulbs as a matter of fact he was sure all that drugs probably damaged his brain.
Before Chase could be sucked deeper into his self-loathing thoughts, he noticed a flower shop up ahead, the open sign staring at him dead in the face. Quickly, Chase rushed inside. The sweet smell of flowers hit him, reminding him of a certain perfume his mother always wears. It’s almost nostalgic. At the front of the shop Chase hears a chuckling he turns to see a blonde with a green apron behind the register. The blond quickly covers his mouth as a delicate shade of pink spreads across their face upon noticing they have been caught. Chase guesses he must have looked upset as the blonde quickly tried to backpedal
”Sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you. It’s just you look like a wet cat and-”
Clearly struggling with some form of excuse, Chase decided to help the guy out, knowing he didn’t mean any offence with the comparison as a matter of fact it left a warm feeling in his stomach he was sure it was because of being reminded of his siblings by the comment
”No, no, you're fine it’s.. Not the first time I’ve been told that, actually”
The blonde looked almost relieved to hear that he glanced at the shop’s windows. Noticing the heavy pour of rain, he turns back to Chase, giving the other a shy smile.
”Pretty bad weather today, huh?”
Chase tried to dry his hair but saw no use as it was pretty soaked along with his clothes. It clung to his skin almost like a second layer. Yeah, he is going to need a shower when he gets home. The shop itself was a little cold, probably due to certain plants and flowers needing the cool temperature. Besides the flowery smell, the whole place had a nice earthy feel to it. He enjoyed it.
’Hmm? Oh yeah… sorry if I just barged in here, I was looking for shelter… You know, for the rain.'“
God, how pathetic he used to be more sociable than that. Now he can’t even talk his way out of a paper bag. Maybe the drugs really did ruin his brain
”It’s really no trouble. Feel free to look around while you’re here.”
The blond smiled in a way that didn’t reach his eyes typical customer service move. Chase can’t really blame the blond as Chase felt the other’s pain having worked in customer service himself. He knew the struggle of always having to put up a front. Chase carefully stepped off the black mat by the door, feeling a tad bit guilty for leaving water on the floor as he walked around, knowing the poor guy probably had to clean it up. He scanned the rows of plants and colorful flowers, unaware of how many flowers and plants there are. Reaching the front of the store, he pretended to be interested in a certain plant as he glanced at the blond. Now that he was much closer to the blond, he couldn’t help but think the other was cute, especially his eyes. He couldn’t help but be reminded of a tarsier one he had encountered as a child because of a neighbor at the time owning (illegal) exotic animals.
The blond must have noticed his staring because they made direct eye contact. Chase quickly whipped his head back at the plant in front of him, feeling his face warm and embarrassed to be caught staring. He moved away from the register, trying to put as much distance as he can hopefully to save himself from an even more awkward situation.
Chase sighed as he stared at the long row of flowers and succulents. He doesn’t really know much about flowers, but he remembers his mother loved them and if she loved them, dad loved them too every day without fail, they would both be out in the backyard tending to mom’s garden sometimes even lazing it out on the grass like if they were a young couple again then whenever they returned from outside they always smelled that earthy smell that Chased loved so much. But when his mother grew depressed, over the coming years slowly but surely, she became a shall of her former self. She had no energy to take care of her garden or herself. It was almost like a representation of her mental state. As her garden died, she did too. After she passed, Chase tried to care for her garden, but nothing he did ever brought back the little flowers to life.
Maybe… he could try again. Maybe if he starts small and work his way up, he could have a little garden too and make his mom proud. Plus, it could really bring out some color to his monochrome apartment.
”Hey Um…”
Chase walked back to the register, more determined than ever after all, once he sets his mind to something it was hard to stop him. He leaned in close to the blond trying to read his name tag.
”Keith. I might get a potted plant, but I’m not sure what to pick. Have you got any recommendations? Maybe something that won’t die easily.”
Keith’s entire face light up as he nods exponentially
”Of course! A few good options would be succulents such as aloe vera. Peace lilies are also nice if you want something less spiky. and spider plants are also another popular option for beginners”
Chase was a tad bit overwhelmed by the suggestions as he watched Keith point at each plant at rapid speed, assigning each name to the respected plant, detailing on how to care for them. Chase found new respect for his mother and Keith at that very moment. It’s honestly amazing how much they knew about plant life.
”I’ll get the spider plant. I could hang it up by the living room window.”
Keith happily nods, moving a stool ladder as he climbs up gingerly to reach for the hanging plant. Chase watches Keith’s form, his eyes trailing the other’s body specifically his rear as inappropriate thoughts enter his head. He’s snapped out of his stupor, mentally scolding himself for being a creep. He quickly whipped around at the sound of metal scrapping the floor. Chase quickly rushed and caught Keith by the waist before he could fall, helping the other steady himself.
”Are you ok?”
A light blush appeared on Keith’s face. As he faced down, Chase followed the other’s gaze. Noticing he was still holding on to him, he quickly released Keith, almost as if he was burned. Now it was his turn to blush. What is happening to him? He had never been so flustered by someone before. As a matter of fact, He’s the one always making people flustered. He has no idea why this guy is making him lose his cool. Maybe Chase is just tired, and he hasn’t gotten laid in forever, or maybe Keith reminds him of someone.
Keith carefully steps down the stool ladder with the help of Chase holding the potted plant for dear life, almost as if the small succulent was way more important than his well being
”Thank you for saving me”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere else besides Keith
”It’s no problem, really”
They both walked back to the register as Keith scans the small, plant he looks away for a, moment almost contemplating something
”Have you had trouble taking care of other plants before? I can give you tips on other species too, if you like.”
”Yeah, a bit. My mom actually had an extensive garden, when I was young”
”Oh really? That must have been lovely! What kind of garden was it?”
”Ah, I think it was a flower and vegetable garden, but she sadly got sick and couldn’t care for it. My siblings were too young, so it fell on to me. I ended up killing most of them by over watering them BUT I want to try again to show my mom I have a green thumb as well, so if this plant is a success, I’ll come back for more.”
By the time Chase was done paying for his new green child, the rain had subsided. Keith carefully hands Chase the plant. He gingerly takes it, not wanting to drop it as he turns about to leave. Chase looks back at Keith, knowing he should just shoot his shot. After all, he has nothing left to lose.
”Hey, I know this is kinda out of the blue and don’t feel pressure to agree or anything, but do you want to grab a bite to eat sometime maybe as like a date”
God, why did he feel so awkward? It’s not like this is the first time he has asked someone on a date. Come to think of it, he has never had a serious relationship. They have always been flings and one-night stands, sometimes friend with benefits, never anything concrete. Maybe that’s why he felt nervous because technically he never went on a date well unless you could count the bedroom as a date.
Keith’s entire face went red, making the blond look adorable
”Oh, hehe, I’m flattered! But I already have a girlfriend. I’m sorry”
Chase chuckled, smiling warmly at the other. He waved his hand reassuringly as part of him felt disappointed, but still there was nothing he could do in a way he was glad he asked either way.
”it’s fine don’t worry about. Thanks for the recommendation. Have a good day”
She must be a lucky girl, Chase thought briefly. Even though there would be no romantic outcome, he hoped Keith would be a friend, at least.
Keith returned the smile as he waved goodbye. Chase stepped out of the flower shop, he sighed before making his way back to his apartment. Upon arriving, he quickly hanged up the spider plant by his living room window, stepping back to admire it. It looked nice; he thought before, quickly checking the soil to see if his new baby needed water. Once he made sure it did not, he stepped into his bedroom and headed straight for the connecting bathroom to take a much needed warm shower. He would have to text Jacob after saying he can’t make it to the club with him.
Once done showering, he looked for his phone, grateful the rain did not damage it and sent a quick text to Jacob, letting him know he wouldn’t make it Jacob replied with a sad face asking maybe next time next time. Chase contemplated for a moment before sending a quick yeah next time for sure.
Chase plopped down on the bed, feeling exhausted. He thought back to Keith, remembering about how his face light up with excitement, his eyes widening with joy as he talked so passionately about each plant. Chase laughed quietly to himself as he was once again reminded of a tarsier… and his mother. Keith is like her, in a way. To their knowledge of flowers and plants right down to their sweet nature, still there was something about Keith that felt different. Chase just couldn’t place his finger on what it was. He rolled to his side facing his bedroom window, watching as the street light come on. Not bothering to cover himself, he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, before leaving for work, Chase checked on his spider plant soil, still wet. Not time to water it yet.
”Please don’t die on me buddy, it would break my heart”
Chase lightly petted his plant before leaving. On his way to work, he passed by the flower shop. He peeked at the window to wave hello to Keith, but he saw Keith wasn’t there. Huh, maybe he has the night shift?
Not thinking much of it, he continued on his way to work
As soon as he entered the building, Jacob bombarded him with questions about why he couldn’t make it. Chase confirmed he had gotten caught in the rain and just wasn’t in the mood anymore. He had conveniently left out the part about meeting Keith, which he knew if added he would just be teased (the guy is worse than his siblings he swears he is not sure if that is a good thing or bad) he thought it would be the end of the conversation and they would resume their work but Jacob was insisted they go out together and hang out if Chase didn’t know better he would have assumed Jacob wanted to sleep with him but Chase did know better Jacob was just a friendly guy nothing more nothing less at least he hopes so besides maybe this was a way to get back in to the grove of things and finally get laid maybe he could finally have his old life back before the drugs before the betrayal
Who the fuck is he kidding? He was a bastard back then sleeping with who every would have him and breaking hearts without a care. More often than not, he was the other man breaking up marriages and relationships.
It was just easier for him that way, much better to use sex as a way to cover his fear of being the one heartbroken and abandon leave them first before they leave you, right? But Chase knows it was just a bandaid for the real problem. Then the drugs got introduce he was in his last year of college when he went home for vacation to see his parents everything had seemed fine his mother seemed fine it’s when he left just a town away when he got the call his mother ha taken her own life that was the moment he was gone that was the moment a part of his died
The drugs only made things worse he would only get temporary bliss before he was at it again looking for his next fixed his collage had dropped him not wanting to ruin their reputation he distance himself from his friends and family looking back on that he was selfish he should have been there for his siblings but instead he was off getting high somewhere
The thing that woke him up that snapped him back to reality was when he overdosed that moment when he staring at the ceiling of some stranger’s house feeling his heart beat hundred miles per second multiple thoughts came to his head one of them was his siblings god he didn’t want them to see their big brother like this never like this and how he never apologized to his friends for being an asshole there was just so many things he never got to do and he wasted it all on this and given a second chance he would do things differently he swears on it than everything went to black
He woke up in a hospital surrounded by his family and friends and then it was like something broke in him. He cried. It was like everything he was keeping inside finally came out: the hurt, the pain, the misery.
Since that day he started his recovery, it was a long and painful process. The withdraws were hell. Everything he ate, he threw up. It was hard for him to gain his appetite again. He also had to gain his weight back and, fuck he was always so damn cold it was hard for him to get warm.
He is thankful he wasn’t alone during those times. His best friend and siblings were there through every step of the way.
Eventually, he recovered. He had gone though eight months without a drop of drugs when he found out through his mother’s diary that his father had been cheating on her on and off with his current girlfriend and that was the reason for her depression and eventually why she took her own life. And his best friend knew about it and didn’t tell him about it. This man who he treated like a brother took him in when his own family neglected him, this man who he spent his entire childhood with whom he told his deepest secrets kept this from him. It was the final nail in the coffin. Chase won’t lie and say he almost relapsed, but instead he ended up packing his things and leaving his hometown and finding a job here.
He is not sure he could forgive his former friend. Maybe he just needs time away from everything.
Chase eventually made a promise to Jacob that he would join this time. That’s how he ended up not at a club as he had initially thought, but a bar, a nice one at that. Chase was sent to get a round of drinks for him and his other co-workers that had come along. Apparently, they all needed a night out when he was approached by a beautiful redhead. Her skin tight clothes and the swing of her hips caught Chase's attention rather quick. Almost instantly, the self loathing and doubt were gone. He felt like himself again, maybe too much like himself. What started out as casual conversation over a couple of drinks turned in to flirty banter and light touches, she then fluttered her eyelashes and asked in a sweet voice.
”You want to come back to my place? We could finish talking there”
”Lead the way, sweetheart”
Chase knew they weren’t going to be talking. He knew where this night was going. What was supposed to be a one-night fling turned in to a weekly meeting or whenever either of them was horny most of the time, it was usually after she was done with work hell sometimes it was even before work they had fucked once or twice at her jobs parking lot as a matter of fact that’s when he found out her name (Lorie) anything to release any pent up stress he didn’t mind being used and discarded as long as he wasn’t alone with his thoughts anymore
One his day off he had just finished showering when he received a text from Lorie asking if he wanted to come over Chase having nothing better to do said yes
”Good. Meet me at my place. I should be home in a couple of minutes. See you soon handsome”
Chase got dressed, grabbing the keys to his car, and drove over to her apartment. Her place was always the meetup. Chase just didn’t feel comfortable inviting her back to his apartment. She was just a booty call, anyway. He had decided long ago only those he was close to would step foot at his place. He didn’t want to risk being robbed… Again.
When he arrived, she was already waiting by the steps of her building. As soon as he stepped out of the car, she ran and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a kiss on the lips. He eagerly kissed her back, pulling away momentarily to give her a mischievous smirk.
”Wow, next thing I knew, you’ll get on one knee and propose.”
Lorie rolled her eyes and playfully smacked Chase's arm before wrapping her arms around Chase yet again
”What? Can’t I just miss you?”
Chase bobbed his head side to side, almost thinking about it when he already knew his answer
”Depends. What do you miss most about me? Is it my charm, my oh so good looks or-”
Chase leaned down and whispered in Lorie’s ear
”-Is it my tongue on your wet pussy.”
He kissed her neck as he slowly made it to her shoulder. A shiver ran through Lorie as she pulled Chase closer to her. A passing jogger caused them to pull apart a blush on Lories cheeks as Chase chuckled. She quickly took hold of Chase’s hand and lead him inside the building.
She fiddled with the keys before finally opening her door and pulling Chase inside before the door even closed Lorie had already jumped on Chase, wrapping her legs around him as they made out Chase carried Lorie to her room as he already knew the layout from being here so many times as he pushed the door to her bedroom open him and Lorie fell on the bed almost quickly shirts where being discarded to the side Chase was about to unbuckle his pants when he saw the bed shift he looked up and saw Keith staring at him Chase felt frozen in place as the realization slowly hit both of them
”Chase, what’s wrong?”
Lorie followed Chase's gaze. She let out a gasp as she pushed Chase off her. He tumbled to the ground as Lorie jumped from the bed and tried to cover herself.
”Keith, oh my god, I swear this isn’t what it looks like you were supposed to be at work, oh my god.”
Chase picked up his shirt from the floor, seeing as the mood was ruined now. He looked over at Lorie as she tried to frantically come up with an excuse. She eyed Chase, almost asking for help, but Chase simply raised an eyebrow at her, refusing to step in. Keith stood from the bed. He was heaving, his face twisted in to anger and pain.
”Keith babe, I swear to you this isn’t what you think he-he tried to take advantage of me. I’m-I’m so glad you're here.”
Chase sneered at her. How fucking dare she make him look like the bad guy and accuse him of something he didn’t do.
”Are you fucking serious Lorie?!”
Chase turned to Keith, his eyes softening. He tried to take a step towards Keith, but the other pulled away. Chase didn’t know why that hurt more than anything.
”That’s not true Keith. I have the text messages to prove it. Lorie is cheating on you. I’m sorry if I would have known I-”
Chase was cut off as a chill ran through his body something was… wrong with Keith his eyes looked off and his lips seem to stretch in to a squiggly line blue spots began to appeared on Keiths pale frame then he grinned teeth sharp as razers Chase takes a step back as Keith gets closer to Lorie Keiths eyes becoming fully purple
”You know, I had a suspicion you were messing around. I tried to tell Keith, but he wouldn’t listen, but I caught you in the act and now I’m pissed off”
Lorie took a step back, her body shaking. She seemed to be just as surprised as Chase was. This wasn’t Keith, this was… someone else.
”G-Get away from me!”
Lorie tried to run, but the other guy was faster. He pounced on top of Lorie’s back, pinning her to the ground. She let out a cry of pain as the other guy yanks on her hair.
”Rude little whores need to be punished.”
Before the guy could cause harm, Chase wrapped his arms around the guy’s middle and pulled him away from Lorie, the guy taken aback for a moment long enough to drag him out of the bedroom until he scratched at Chase's arms
”Gah! Keith, stop snap out of it!'“
Chase lost his grip on the guy as he was slammed to the ground with enough force to knock the air out of him. He let out a gasp as he tried to regain himself.
The guy takes a step forward, his eyes locked on Chase when he paused, a frown gracing his strange lips. He brings a hand to his head as a light groan escapes him.
”For fuck’s sake, not now!
He holds his head in his hands and digs at his hair. Chase watches in horror. He knows he should run get Lorie away but he just couldn’t look away. His appearance changes once again. His blue skin turns back to a rosy pale, his mouth changes shape forming back in to a normal human mouth and lastly his eyes they go back to looking like a tarsier. That’s when Chase knew his Keith was back.
”Keith? what the hell just happened!?”
Chase slowly rose from the ground, placing a hand on his back, feeling the pain of being slammed to the ground. Keith’s hands shook as he looked at Chase, his eyes on the brink of tears.
”I’m so sorry! This shouldn’t have happened. It’s all my fault. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I-”
Before Keith could finish, Lorie steps out of the bedroom, her face tear stain her hair a mess. She looks at Keith and Chase and says in a bitter voice,
”Both of you get out. I don’t want to see either of you”
Keith almost flinched at the words he opens his mouth to speak but is quickly shut down by Lorie, who raises a hand to stop him. dejected Keith walks to the door, but Chase stops him, pulling his arm and whispering in his ear,
”Wait for me outside. I’ll handle this”
Keith stares at Chase before nodding, leaving the two alone. Later, as night fell, Keith sat on the steps of the apartment building, the night air becoming colder. Chase eventually walks out. Keith quickly stands from the steps waiting with batted breath. The two men stare at each other before Chase sighs.
”I managed to convince her not to call the cops told her you had some double personality, although now she wants you to stay the hell away from her and never contact her again”
Keith looks down at his feet, nodding at Chase. He turns and sits back down the on steps, placing his face in his hands. Chase follows sitting next to Keith. He glances at the night sky, knowing he might regret his decision, but he can’t help but feel guilty even though he didn’t know Lorie was dating Keith, he is still responsible for this whole mess besides he wants to know what the hell happened why Keith suddenly turned in to the incredible hulk.
”Hungry?”
Startled, Keith looks at Chase, almost forgetting he was there. He probably assumed Chase had left.
”I- You want to have dinner with me even after everything?”
Chase shrugs, leaning back on the concrete steps. He kinda regrets doing that as pain shoots up his back. He lets out a small hiss as Keith looks on in worry.
”Well, it is my fault everything went to hell and aren’t I owed an explanation for why you went full hulk smash on me”
”Hulk smash? Oh, you mean Tenebris. I’m sorry about your back”
”So that’s his name. I was calling him by yours the whole time. My back will heal. I’ve been through worse shit"
”Yeah that probably upset him even more”
”Well, that’s good to know next time I get the shit knocked out of me”
Chase knew it was a poor attempt at humor when Keith grimace, his face still riddled with guilt. Chase hesitantly placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder, showing the other it really was ok that he knew the other didn’t mean to hurt him. Keith halfheartedly smiled before frowning once again. Chase stared back at the sky, wondering how he could fix this, if he could fix it. Maybe it was the big brother in him that wanted to solve everyone’s problems, or maybe it was just he didn’t like to see Keith upset. They sat there in silence. The only noise was the passing cars. Chase suddenly stood up, taking a couple of steps before he looked back at Keith and held out his hand.
”Are you coming or what?”
Keith stared at Chase like he had grown two heads, which was ironic. Keith‘s eyes trailed down to Chase’s hand before taking it. He gave Chase a shy smile.
”Where are we going?”
Chase smiled as they walked side by side, neither of them nothing to let the other’s hand go
”There's a little diner not too far from here heard the food was great from a co-worker”
The small diner came in to view. Upon entering the establishment, the whole place was styled 50s themed. Keith’s eyes widen as he looked around in amazement. Chase couldn’t help but chuckle as he was once again reminded of the cute little tarsier.
They found a booth by the jukebox machine. They seemed to be the only ones. Well, besides an old man who they both were sure was asleep and a college student cramming for her finals, judging by the way she looked like she was about to bawl. The lights were dimmed as the jukebox played a soft tune of instrumental acoustics, making the place oddly romantic. The server came to their table, pulling out two menus, then her notebook. Keith looked over at Chase, then back at the server's worried expression on his face. Chase knew what this must be about.
”It’s on me. Get whatever you want”
”I can’t ask that of you! I’ve already done too much-”
”Keith, it’s fine. I promise I’m offering”
””Are you sure?”
”One hundred percent”
Keith smiled softly as he turned to the server and placed his order. Chase just ordered fries and a milkshake as he has been craving that since he moved here. Another awkward silence fell on the both men until Keith broke it.
”He’s sorry”
”What?”
”Tenebris, he said he was sorry for hurting you”
”Oh blueberry guy”
Keith almost bursted out laughing but quickly covered his mouth
”Do not call him that to his face. He would get so angry”
”He deserves it for my back!”
”He said sorry!”
”Tell that to my back!”
They both stared at each other before laughing. This whole situation was ridicules Keith the boyfriend (Ex-boyfriend now) and Chase the other man having a romantic dinner together neither didn’t think they would be here. As their laughter died down, Keith stayed quiet before asking,
”Does it bother you?”
”Does what bother me?”
”Tenebris and… me”
”Ah… No, not really. What bothers me is he hurt me and tried to hurt someone else, no matter if they deserved it or not. That’s just not right”
”I know. He won’t do it again. I was so angry he just took over and I couldn’t control him. Thank you for helping me and convincing Lorie not to call the cops.”
”It’s no problem. I’m also to blame for this as well”
Keith lightly tilted his head to the side, the frown returning to his lips.
”Did… Did you know?”
Chase knew what Keith meant. Truth be told, he didn’t, but that raises another question for Chase he doesn’t like to think about. Would he have cared if he knew?
”No, I didn’t know she approached me at the bar three weeks ago and I didn’t think much of it”
”Would you have cared if you knew?”
Shit
Chase’s jaw tensed up. He looked down at his hands as his thumb rubbed the back of his hand. He was hoping Keith wouldn’t ask him that because he himself did not know the answer.
”I… I don’t know
”You don’t know?”
”No, I don’t… Truth be told, the old me would have not given a shit. I’ve broken up my fair share of relationships. I was an asshole”
”And now?”
”I want to believe I wouldn’t have, but deep down I know myself and the truth is I’m still that piece of shit asshole I was back then no matter how hard I try to be different hell a part of me wants the old me back god in a way it’s like I’m stuck I don’t know who I want to be”
Keith stayed quiet. He slowly reached his hands to Chase, rubbing his knuckles.
”I like this you”
”You don’t even know me”
”No, but we could change that and so far from the little I’ve seen of you, I like what I see”
Chase chuckled. A light blush appearing on his face as he looked at Keith gazing in the other’s eyes. He couldn’t help but be drawn to them. He cleared his throat, gently pulling his hands back.
”Ok, enough about me. My turn now. What’s the deal with you and Blue’s clues is it like a multiple personality thing or…?”
”No, it’s more complicated than that. He’s been with me since I was born. He’s like a separate entity”
”Like a demon?”
”What? no he’s not a demon”
”Do I need to break out the holy water and bible?”
”I’m not possessed!”
Chase laughed. He kind of liked to get Keith all railed up. If it meant he could see that little pout on the other’s face, it was worth it.
”Ok Ok Tarsier I believe you-”
”What is a tarsier?”
”What?”
”You called me Tarsier. What is that?”
Chase’s face went bright red. He hadn’t realized he called Keith tarsier by mistake. This was honestly the most embarrassing moment in his life and he has a lot of embarrassing moments but that was usually with family or friends. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away from Keith before sighing and facing the blond again.
”You know those things in the tree that look like squirrels?”
Keith shook his head, confused about what Chase meant. He wasn’t sure how to explain the little creatures, but he would try to do them justice.
”Yeah! Tarsiers are haplorhine primates of the family, Tarsiidae. They are located Philippines, Malaysia, Indonesia, and Brunei. they have big beautiful eyes. Some people think they are creepy looking, but I always found them cute.”
Chase pulled out his phone and typed in to Google. He then turned his phone to show Keith. He made a face of disgust.
”You think I look like that?! They're ugly! And my eyes aren’t that big!”
”No! They're cute! You're just being bratty! And yes, they are!”
”You think that’s cute!? you could have said I looked like a penguin or something, not that!”
”Penguins are bastards and yes, I think they are cute! I’m just trying to say I you're cute and I love your eyes!”
Chase caught himself and once again he was turning red. He looked away. Mentally cursing himself. He glanced at Keith, who, despite having the same blush on his face he had a sly smirk.
”You think I’m cute?”
”Ok yes, I think you're cute… Just like a tarsier”
”OH MY GOD”
They both laughed. Keith tilted his head back as tears fell from his eyes from laughing so hard. Chase couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. It’s been a while since he has laughed this hard with someone. He likes this. The server came with their food, causing them both to cover their laughter and smiles, but as soon as they left, their eyes locked on each other, Keith reached for Chase's hand, as both interlocked their fingers.
They walked out of the diner, stomachs full and holding hands. Chase walked Keith back to his apartment.
”This is me. Thank you for tonight. I really needed”
”It’s no problem. I also kind of needed it”
”I’m glad I could help… Well I should go uhm, I’ll see you around?”
”Uh yeah, I’ll see you around”
Keith seemed to deject. As he turned to walk to his apartment, Chase turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks. He took a deep breath and turned back to Keith.
”Hey Keith”
Keith instantly perked up as he turned to look at Chase.
”Yes?”
”What time do you get off work tomorrow?”
”at 12 why?”
Chase walked closer to Keith, now standing inches apart
”Do you want to go out with me? Only if you want too, of course”
Keith beamed. He smiled so wide Chase thought the other’s face would hurt.
”Yes!”
Keith blurted out happily before lowering his voice again. A blush appeared lightly dusting his cheeks as an embarrassed chuckle escapes his lips.
”I-I mean Sure”
”Great, I’ll pick you up after work then”
Chase leaned down and kissed Keith’s cheeks and whispered in his ear,
”I can’t wait. I’ll see you tomorrow, my tarsier”
Chase pulled away as he walked backwards before turning around, taking off only for him to hear
”I AM NOT A TARSIER!”
Chase laughed as he headed home. He honestly couldn’t wait to see Keith again.
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starpros-sunshine · 1 year
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also i think that after seeing that Something is going out with his eichisama tori should also sneak into town to go and see what's the deal with this wataru guy. and he inevitably gets lost but meets hajime and they have a bonding moment barbie movie-style and him and tomoya help tori meet wataru. and then wataru sees tomoya and goes "oho! interesting child!" which once again leads to eichi unreasonable jealousy against this poor random kid
Okay so I've been thinking on this and I've been trying to get something coherent and bear with me right right.
(this got so long again I just started going into detail and detail and detail and oh god I am so sorry)
So Tori, poor, innocent Tori, has to come to terms with the fact that Eichi is hiding something from him (that "Something" being a tall blue-haired extra of unknown origin) and he knows that, technically, the mature thing would be to leave it alone. Eichi will have his reasons for being a little secretive about it. He has his own life and if he doesn't want to be open about...whatever it is that seems to be going on there.... then he doesn't have to be because the man has a right to privacy.
Tori knows that. But Tori also knows that being mature doesn't matter if, technically, his beloved Eichi-sama could be at risk of giving his heart away to a scoundrel that only wishes to play with him until he's bored and then throws him away, breaking Eichis heart in the process. We couldn't have that! And what if he's a criminal? Can you really trust someone who snoops around on other peoples property without their knowing? No you can't! So really it's only natural Tori wants to know what that guys deal is. Out of a genuine concern for his friend. Of course.
And so obviously it's a completely acceptable and normal and rational decision when he sees that Yuzuru isn't there for a moment to keep watch over him like the guard dog that he is (really Tori isn't a child anymore there's no need to be so overprotective) and the other staff members also don't seem to be around and Eichi is also nowhere to be seen, that he decides to take his coat and pack his little bag with some money (read: more money than just "some" money) and tries to sneak out of the house and down the path across the small meadow and the bit of forest that separates their not-so-humble abode from the small town where the other people live.
His inital plan simple. Go there; ask around a little, maybe try some tailing (after hearing stories from the other aristocrats about how one is able to hire people to follow their spouses around without them noticing - and that apparently being an actual thing people earn their money with - he's decided that it can't be that hard and he should try his luck.) and then leaving as quickly as possible, lest Yuzuru die of a heart attack after finding out Tori dissappeared. It would be quick and easy and nobody would ever find out. That was the original plan. But Tori very soon comes to find that that could prove harder than he thought when he notices he actually really really enjoys the feeling of not having anyone hover over him like some sort of falcon watching their prey.
The little river running by the path through the meadow is still frozen (It is winter after all) and the snow on the ground almost reaches his ankles. The 15 minute walk takes him 30 because he keeps jumping around in the snow (He's made three snow angels by now. For a second he has to think of his sister and of how nice it would be if she were here with him too and how they could make snow angels together were it not for her having to stay with their parents, but he pushes that thought to the back of his head again and decides to move on with his way).
When he eventually arrives at the town - and after just wandering aimlessly through the rather empty streets - there are three major epiphanies.
The first one is that he doesn't have a clear destination. He has no idea where to look for the blue-haired weirdo. The second is that, seeing as it is a forenoon in january, most people probably aren't spending their time outside. And if they are then they are at a different place than where he is. And the third and final one: He is completely and utterly lost.
It should be regarded as an accomplishment really. Getting lost in a town with a population of barely 300 locals living there. Indeed Tori would think it impossible. Yet here he is. If anything he's sure he's at least the only one who can claim this feat for himself. This is fine. He has this under control. If he just keeps walking then he's sure to come out somewhere (No there are no tears in his eyes anyone who says otherwise is just imagining things (he decidedly ignores the little voice in his head that tells him "Who's gonna say otherwise. Look around yourself, have you forgotten that you're all alone here?")). So the big brave boy that he is he marches onward, ignoring the way his fingers have started to feel numb from the cold and his eyes have not stopped watering and the little voice in the back of his head that tells him he should've just listened to Yuzuru (He banishes that one to the deepest depths of his subconscious very quickly. There are blows that his pride can take in these situations and then there's having to agree with "You should've just listened to Yuzuru". If There is one thing that can be said about Tori then it's that he is not one to simply give up. He has come this far and he'll be damed if he backs out now).
Lost in thought and not paying much attention to his surroundings (he has more important things to think about right now), he only manages to register a flash of blue in his peripheral vision. And because this could be what he's come here for in the first place but more importantly because this is a person and that is where the bar is set, Tori immediately tries to follow them. If Lady Luck is especially nice to him this time she lets this person be the mysterious stranger he's been looking for, but what feels like a day of walking through empty streets in the biting cold of a noon in late january have humbled him enough to not push it with his luck.
And when he turns the corner, calling out for the figure to wait, insted of the strange man he was expecting he comes face-to-face with a meekish looking boy with blue hair and big violet eyes and next to him there's a second boy, this one able to be described in all aspects with only one word: average. And for a solid ten seconds they all just stare at each other.
Tori doesn't really know how, he really has no idea, but somehow he ended up following the two home. Or, well, more or less. Following isn't really the right word here. After their almost-staring-competition on the street the meekish looking one with the blue hair asked him if he was alright because "he seemed lost" (he absolutely did not.) which then prompted an entire series of events that ended is Tori sitting in this strangers families home - with an entirely different stranger also there - getting a serving of what he assumes to be radish soup. Tori feels a little sorry for the boy, Tomoya, as he said his name was, who seemed like he was previously engaged in a conversation with the other boy, who later introduced himself as Hajime and who had spent the entire way asking him questions about how he ended up here and what someone like him was doing all alone in a sleepy village neighbourhood like theirs and if he really didn't need a tissue (He hadn't cried while explaining how he was lost. He totally hadn't) and on and on and on as Tomoya had to awkwardly walk behind them.
So now, sitting at this table with these two people who he has only met today and who have given him a bowl of soup to warm himself up with, he has to tell everything about how he ended up in this situation in the first place. At the end of his recollection of this oh so wonderful day he is met with two pitying looks an a laugh - apparently one of Hajimes younger siblings had joined them at their little impromptu gathering (he wonders, distantly, how his own sister is doing right now).
And as he's about to say that he should probably make his way home and resume his mission another time when he has a map, Hajime mentions that he actually knows the guy Tori is talking about and that he lives at the local inn and that that isn't that far from them and that he and Tomoya can walk him there if he wants to. Tori agrees immediately. He is so over trying to be discreet about it at this point he really just wants some sort of success in this kind of ridiculous endeavour he's set out on.
So after the soup is finished and his limbs don't feel like they're about to fall off anymore the trio goes on their merry way and Tori feels a little silly because for all the walking around he did before they reach this inn really pretty quickly... maybe he should've thought to bring a map... The three of them venture further into the inn, and Tori only overhears Hajime talking to an older woman, but he's more occupied with looking around the place. It's father homely and rustic, a completely different atmosphere than at their place. There are noises from the few patrons sitting at the tables and chatting with each other, but it only add to the cozy feeling of the entire place.
When Hajime comes back he leads Tori up a little stairway and down a dimly lit hallway. They stop in front of a door at the very end of it (in my head there's a bit of a terasse thing happening there like. you can look down into the part where the tables are and such right right) and Tori barely has time to mentally prepare for the fact that this really is happening now before Hajime knocks and the sound of muffled steps approaching the door can be heard.
When the door finally opens (it's been a few seconds at best but it feels like an eternity), Tori is greeted by the lovely view of a pair of pale clavicles, barely covered by a black linen blouse. He has to actively look up to look at the face of their owner and when he is met with a pair of sharp, purple eyes he feels like his throat just sew itself shut. Hajime explains to Wataru that Tori was looking for him and suddenly a light seems to go up above Watarus head as a look of recognition flashes over his face and he turns around to Tori again and asks him if he's "the princess that Eichi's been telling him all about". Tori is confused. Hajime decides that this is his cue to leave and he slowly backs away to go back down and collect Tomoya, who's been roped into helping out with the catering by some elder gentleman (Wataru watches Hajime as he collects Tomoya and they leave, intrigued by this strangely average boy, as Tori just stares in horror as the realisation dawns upon him that he is now completely alone with this man whom he didn't even intend on speaking to in the first place).
So now he is here. In this very awkward situation. Sitting on a chair in this strangers room (for the second time today! Did he ever have a day this eventful? Who knows! Tori for sure doesn't.). He wants to talk, but Wataru is faster and asks him what he's doing here. Tori doesn't really know how to reply. How do you talk your way around having to tell someone that you actually got lost on the way to spy on them. That's right. You can't. Well, Eichi could. But Tori is Tori and he never wished for that to change more than he did now.
He looks out of the window and it is at that moment that another three major epiphanies reach him. Firstly that he doesn't know what to do now that he's here, secondly that he's going to get murdered by Yuzuru (and if worst comes to worst also Eichi) once he gets back because he's been gone all day without telling anyone and they're probably all worried sick, and last but not least: it is dark outside. He can't go home like that. He is virtually stuck in this predicament he found himself in.
Wataru seems to have a similar thought, because the immediate follow up question after not really getting a coherent answer from Tori is if anyone knows he's gone. Tori shakes his head. If Tsukasa ever finds out about this mess of a situation he will have to die because he would never let Tori live that down.
He gets ripped out of his incoming spiral by the bird that takes a seat on his head and Watarus over-the-top contemplative sigh and the slight lilt in his voice when he voices the next issue that's in the room. He isn't even speaking to Tori anymore, but to his bird that sits on Toris head, Jeanne, and Tori is starting to get annoyed by the way he jokes about this entire thing, calling Tori a "a little bird that escaped its nest", as if he isn't stuck having to prepare for his untimely demise. And by the way this guy hasn't put down his cryptic smile and teasing voice ever since he entered the room. When he thinks things can't get any more awkward for him Wataru proposes two options. Either he walks him home, or Tori has to stay at the inn for the night and he brings him back in the morning. Tori decides he'd rather go back home sooner than later (he'll have to take the lacture either way and he's probably caused everyone enough worries by now anyways. And also he misses his bed.). So Wataru grabs his coat, quickly goes to tell the inn-keepers he's "bringing retuening the princess to ger people" (Tori doesn't know if he liked the bird comparison better or not).
The way back is still very tense because Tori does not dare to walk next to Wataru (he's sketchy it's not Toris fault it's a normal reaction) and so he just awkwardly walks behind him, He doesn't really watch his surroundings - it is dark and the only nice thing is that it's snowing and there are animal sounds and they are spooky and he needs to watch the way and it's easier to think that way - until suddenly he gets hit by a snowball right in the head. And he is so baffled by this that he just stares at Wataru, and Wataru grins at him with his stupid stupid grin and somehow they end up in a snowball fight on this meadow where the only reason you can see anything is because of the snow and when they finally arrive at the mansion they both have so much snow in their hair and their clothes are wet from the melted snow and when they knock on the door and wait for someone to open Wataru gets some of the snow out of Toris hair and says that that snowball fight can be their little shared secret and Tori grins back at him and agrees and when the door opens and both of them are frantically ushered in by a maid that tells another one to get Yuzuru and Eichi Tori decides that maybe this guy isn'r so bad after all. Maybe he's actually quite nice.
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kaidatheghostdragon · 11 days
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Found this while going through my fanfic files, and i absolutely had to share.
Danny: i want in
Red robin: …what?
Danny: your bat family. I want in.
Red robin, blinking in surprise: i dont know what you think you know about my associates, but we're not-
Danny: dont be obtuse. I know youre the smart one. And i also know that your all one big relatively happy family. I want in.
Red robin: …why?
Danny: because you guys are the first people ive found that are wealthy, intelligent and powerful enough to take on my fruitloop godfather and win AND are decent enough human beings that i can be assured that when all is said and done, my well-being will remain a top priority.
Orphan, appearing out of nowhere: new brother!
Danny: *stares in shock*
Danny: *sudden uncanny grin* well that's one convinced. How do i win over the rest?
Orphan: no need. New brother!
Red robin: *pointed glance of betrayal* fine. Who is your godfather?
Danny: vlad masters. He's a fruitloop.
Red robin: for real? B's been investigating him for years! Tell me everything! *genuinely excited for a new lead*
Danny: well, he's tried to murder my dad and marry my mom, gained his wealth illegally, committed voting fraud to become the mayor of my hometown, has a secret underground lab where he does unethical experiments, and he's abducted me more than a dozen times even before my parents disowned me to make me his evil apprentice or whatever. Now that im homeless, he's literally out to get me. Oh! And he's cloned me too! She's cool though, we're buddies now.
Batman, who just arrived but heard everything over comms: hn. (Translation: who are you?)
Danny: my name is Danny. No last name anymore, but im hoping itll soon be Wayne! *winking suggestively*
Batman: hn? (how much do you know?)
Danny: enough to know that youre a much better alternative to vlad.
Batman: …hn (i dont know anything about you. What if youre a spy for vlad?)
Danny, giving his salesman pitch: i was a teen vigilante in amity park before i had to run away from home for my own safety. Vlad is one of my rogues. I know how to fight and defend myself, how to minimize collateral damage in a fight, and ive gotten really good and escaping kidnapping attempts. Ive also managed to reform and/or make allies out of approximately half of my rogues and can talk down about 30% of all rogue confrontations before they turn into a messy fight. The other things i can bring to the table are: one, i can teach all of you guys proper liminality self care; two, i can probably minimize and possibly cure red hood's anger issues; three, i can get along with stabby robin because i consider fighting a friendly social interaction - he can even stab me and i wont be injured by it; four, i can be your go-to guy for supernatural cases so you no longer have to deal with that sad trenchcoat man; five-
Red robin: *blurting* youre hired.
Batman: hn (i am deeply concerned)
Danny: if youre concerned now, wait until i tell you about the anti ecto control act
Nightwing, who showed up in the middle of the sales pitch: ive never seen anyone crack B's grunt language so quickly
Danny: grunt language? He's just using ghost speak - which will be covered by the liminality self care lessons
Robin, who arrived with batman: what is a liminal?
Danny: all of you, of course! Otherwise you wouldnt need to learn about it, obviously
Robin: and why would we trust you?
Danny: did i mention i have a pet ghost dog?
Robin: …you drive a hard bargain
Danny, fist pumping: yes! That's three!
Nightwing: four, you got me when you could understand B's grunting
Red Hood, arrived with nightwing: five, assuming you arent lying about the pit rage
Danny, hand to his chest: i would never!
Orphan: honesty. Earnest. New brother.
Oracle, over comms: six. The anti ecto acts are legit and im terrified for his safety, assuming he's phantom, who is the vigilante of amity park
Spoiler, arrived with orphan: seven, as long as youre down for a few pranks
Batman: hn (ive been outvoted)
Batman: hnn (i dont wanna hear any jokes about adoption habits when you all forced my hand)
Batman: hn (that said)
Batman: welcome to the family
Duke, the next day: man, i miss out on everything exciting.
Duke, blinded by danny: and who the fuck told bruce he could adopt the fucking sun?!
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pathologicalreid · 8 months
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buried alive | S.R.
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in which the BAU races against the clock to rescue you from a killer team
who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader
category: angsty
content warnings: kidnapping, case stuff (murder yk), suffocation, being buried alive, hospitals, blood, nausea, CPR, funerals, use of pet names, guns, and drugs. i think that's all.
word count: 2.9k
a/n: okay, so i've been reading so much spencer fanfic and i started writing it and yesterday i realized i have 20 fics written and they're doing no one any good just sitting on my computer. i decided to finally try posting one. i wrote fanfic in high school (so like seven years ago) but this is my first time writing for a TV show. i've also never really posted on tumblr so please bear with me while i try to figure out formatting. tysm for checking out my post.
part two part three
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You walked into the conference room and dropped the file on the table, allowing it to land on the wood with a satisfying splat. “The unsub’s burying them alive,” you said, letting the rest of the team know the conclusion you had come to with the medical examiner. “The M.E. found metal shavings and satin threads under the nails of our last victim. The most common materials to make up a casket.”
“There’s no way someone could bury someone alive in a casket alone, we’ve got to be dealing with a team, at least three people,” Emily concluded, standing in front of the evidence board.
It was the team’s third day on a case in Nebraska, four women had been discovered dead. Asphyxiation by hypoxia. Carbon dioxide poisoning.
“Approximately 420 people in the United States die from accidental carbon dioxide poisoning every year,” Spencer said, grabbing the file off of the table and flipping through it, taking a few seconds to read through it.
Rossi looked over Reid’s shoulder to look at the file, “but there’s nothing accidental about these deaths. Who would have access to these caskets?”
You shook your head, placing a hand on the back of Spencer’s chair, “A funeral director seems most likely.” You looked around at the Omaha field office, different agents running about in an attempt to solve these very murders. “They’d have the most access, write it off as displays. It could be hard to match the materials since they’re so common.”
Hotch leaned over the table and pressed the conference phone, “What can I do you for?” Garcia’s bright voice rang through the speaker.
“Garcia, I need you to look into funeral homes within the comfort zone. Look for a director who’s ordered more caskets than they’ve had funerals. Find anything, nothing is too small.” He told her.
“Absolutely, I’ll hit you back when I’ve got something,” she said, hanging up the phone.
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There ended up being four funeral homes in the unsub’s comfort zone, so the team split up. You went with two locals to a family-owned business, Garcia had sent you all of the files you’d need on the location. “It looks like the Varn family has been in the funeral business since the seventeenth century,” you read aloud to the two agents you were in the car with.
“Does it mean they’re more or less likely to be the killers if they’ve been in business for so long?” One of the agents asked you, a younger man named Harrison.
You pursed your lips as you continued to look over the files, “I’m not seeing any glaringly obvious stressors before the murders started, but over the years I’ve learned that’s no reason to write someone off. Psychopaths can be tipped off by the slightest thing. Things none of us would bat an eye at.”
Harrison nodded in the passenger seat, looking over to his partner Jimmy, “You and your guy sure do make an interesting pair.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, so thank you.” You and Spencer never explicitly stated to the field office that you were dating, but you walked into the precinct this morning holding hands. The agents must have drawn their own conclusions.
The younger officer cleared his throat, “It is a compliment, ma’am. The two of you are very impressive, your whole team is.”
You smiled, “Thank you, Harrison.”
The funeral home was run by a mother and her two sons, you held up your credentials for the mother when you knocked on the door. “Are you Sheila Varn?” You asked her, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes, what’s this about?” She inquired. She didn’t really look the part of a serial killer, a middle-aged woman who was running her family business.
Pocketing your credentials, you spoke, “We’re investigating the recent murders in the area and we were wondering if you had samples of the materials your caskets are made out of. Might we be able to come in?” You asked, adding a charming smile for effect.
Something flashed across her face before she returned your smile, opening the door and welcoming the three of you inside. “Hold on, let me get my boys up here. They’re so much more versed in the goings on of the town than I am,” she said, opening the door and calling for her sons. Felix and Joss came up the stairs from the basement, now they definitely had the physique to load dead women into caskets and bury them alive.
“Why don’t you two men come with me? I’ll get you those samples,” Sheila said, motioning for the agents you were with to follow her. To your horror, they followed her around the corner. “Felix, Joss, show this young lady what you know,” she instructed.
You took a deep breath before you looked up at the two men.
They were tall, maybe Spencer’s height, but they were built like wrestlers. There was no way you could physically subdue them on your own.
You passed out before you even had the chance to pull your gun.
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Hotch was in full Unit Chief mode, Spencer watched from the corner of the room as he separated people into groups and gave them specific instructions. JJ and Morgan walked into the precinct, “What’s going on?” JJ asked looking around the room.
“The Varn Family is the team; two agents were found drugged on the side of the road and when we went to the funeral home Y/N was missing. Her badge, gun, and phone were all there, covered in blood,” Spencer said morosely, watching as Hotch finished giving orders and called the rest of the team over.
Your picture was up on the evidence board with the word “missing” written in bold letters beneath it. All of your belongings had been put into evidence for the time being. “Reid?” Hotch said his name, causing his head to snap up. “Are you okay to keep working?”
Spencer nodded affirmatively, “Yes.”
“Good, I need you to estimate how much time we have, I want a clock on these screens,” he ordered.
Morgan turned to Reid, “What do you think she has, kid?”
“The tidal volume for the average adult is point five at rest. That ends up being about six liters per minute. The average casket is approximately 886 liters in total volume and the average volume of the human body is 66 liters, leaving 820 liters to be filled with air for her to breathe. If she’s been gone for half an hour already, I’d estimate she has less than five hours of breathable air left.” Spencer explained, doing all of the math in his head while Emily put a timer on the screen next to the evidence board.
After a moment, Hotch continued, “Rossi, JJ, go back to the funeral home. Tear it apart, there has to be something there we haven’t found yet. The rest of us will split the list of cemeteries in the comfort zone and search them.”
“That’s a lot of ground to cover, we don’t have anything else to go on?” Morgan asked, looking at the list of burial sites he had been handed.
Hotch looked at Spencer, but Spencer stayed silent. “That’s all we have right now,” Hotch responded, “hopefully we’ll come across leads as we go.”
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It smelled like a garden around you. The memory reminded you of spring with your mother, tending to the vegetable garden.
The only difference was that instead of the sun beaming down on you, it was pitch black. The space surrounding you was so dark that you weren’t totally sure your eyes were open.
Your head was throbbing just above your right temple, and you observed your surroundings. Slowly, you lifted your arm until it hit a ceiling.
Not a ceiling. A lid. You were in a casket. You pressed one hand to your chest and tried to slow your breathing. Chances were that the casket was already buried beneath the surface of the earth, trying to open it could be catastrophic. You patted the pockets of your jeans, only to find your phone missing, so the team wouldn’t be able to trace the location.
Even if you had it, there likely wouldn’t be service six feet under.
Your team would find you. They had to find you.
They found Spencer, they found Emily, and they would find you.
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Spencer shifted in the passenger seat of the SUV, “You know, carbon dioxide poisoning is a rather peaceful way to die.”
“Reid,” Morgan said, turning the vehicle onto the main road, they had just finished scouring over another cemetery with still no sign of you.
He sighed and stared at his hands, “No, it’s good. We see so many people killed in so many different ways that it’s good that she won’t be in pain when she runs out of air.” He tried to convince himself.
Morgan cleared his throat, “We aren’t out of time yet, kid. We can still find her. Y/N’s smart, I’m sure she found a way to make more air or something.”
But they were running out of time, less than an hour remained on the timer set on all of their phones.
They pulled into the next cemetery, “There’s some fresh dirt over there, what are the names on the graves of people who were actually recently buried?”
Spencer starts to recite the names, and the two of them start to comb through the cemetery.
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You had done enough research on this case to understand what was going on. The light-headed feeling had started not long ago, but now you felt like you were spinning, despite the knowledge that you were stuck in place.
It was a high. Not unlike the good kids high. Except instead of trying to chase a feeling, you were dying.
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The timer went off when they were still scouring graves, shovels in hand. Derek stopped in his tracks, but Spencer kept going.
“Wait,” Spencer called out, reading the name on the card next to the fresh grave he was standing at, he moved to start digging. “Essie Dunbar was a thirty-year-old woman who was mistakenly buried alive in 1915,” he said, digging. “This has to be it.”
Derek called Hotch, putting the call on speakerphone so he could help Spencer dig. “Hotch, we got her, but she’s buried.”
“We’re on our way, Omaha police have one of the brothers in custody,” Hotch told Emily to have an ambulance dispatched.
What Reid knew that Derek didn’t was that it could take four hours to dig a grave by hand. The soil had been overturned, so maybe call it three. Your odds were still negligible. He didn’t stop, he didn’t stop when a caretaker came running at them, and he didn’t stop when Derek told him to get his digging equipment out here now.
Derek flashed his FBI badge to get what they needed. He had to physically pull Spencer back from the grave so the backhoe could dig, only going until there was less than a foot between them and the casket.
Spencer crudely attached a chain to the casket and the caretaker's vehicle. Carefully, the caretaker dragged the white container out of the earth and up a slant they had dug. It was locked shut, “Reid, move,” Derek ordered.
He leaned back and Derek fired at the lock, taking it off and opening the casket. Spencer gasped, there was blood on the side of your head, dried and raked through your hair. He was vaguely aware of Hotch and Emily arriving as they pulled you out of your satin prison. You had no pulse, but you were still warm. Immediately, Spencer started CPR.
“Reid let me do it,” Derek insisted.
What he was trying to say is that he shouldn’t have to be the one to try to save your life.
Morgan repeated himself and Spencer pulled away, allowing the other agent to immediately take over. There was a siren in the background, an ambulance. More people showed up, Spencer heard their voices, but he just kept watching you. CPR was effective if it was done shortly after your heart stopped, and even then, permanent brain damage was likely.
It had been eight minutes since they pulled you out of the ground. Clinically, you were dead for eight minutes before you gasped.
Spencer smoothed your hair back, away from your face, while you desperately tried to catch your breath. You weren’t moving, and Spencer started running through symptoms of hypoxia. His biggest fear was brain damage, that they had done more harm to you in bringing you back than they would have had you died.
The EMTs came running over to where everyone had gathered, dispersing the crowd, and placing an oxygen mask over your face. As they were loading you on the stretcher, you started trying to talk, reaching your arm out to your side. “Wait, what’s she saying?” JJ asked.
“Sometimes it’s hard to talk after CPR,” the male EMT said as they moved you closer to the ambulance. He listened to what you were saying, “It’s not coherent.”
Spencer didn’t move, all of the adrenaline that had been coursing through his body all day was leaving.
Aphasia. They were saying the lack of oxygen to your brain was causing aphasia. “No,” Emily said, realization dawning on her features as she strained to listen to you. You were whispering, rasping the same word over and over again. “She’s saying ‘Spence.’”
He stood quickly and looked at you, sure enough, you were reaching out your hand and whispering, “Spence, Spence.” Your voice no more than a whisper.
Grabbing your hand, Spencer squeezed it, “I’m here,” he answered. “It’s okay, it’s over,” he told you, moving your hair out of your face. Spencer secured your oxygen mask over your face as you tried to take it off, “You have to keep this on, angel.”
To his relief, you squeezed his hand back.
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You had been instructed to get some rest, but you couldn’t close your eyes. You asked Spencer to go back to the hotel and change his clothes because he smelled like dirt, and it made you nauseous. Your head had been bandaged, you’d been run through an MRI, and you did an EEG, so far, the only brain damage that had been incurred seemed temporary.
According to the doctors, the nausea and fatigue should wear off, but they hadn’t been able to fully assess if any permanent damage was done. At this point, the worst of your injuries had been caused by being given CPR, resulting in cracked ribs.
Despite your headache, you kept most of the lights on in your hospital room, not quite ready to be left in the darkness again. “Hey,” a voice called from your doorway, Spencer stood, waiting to be invited in. He was wearing different clothes, a button-up with a green cardigan thrown over it, and clean pants. “How are you feeling?”
A nasal cannula slightly restricted your movement, but you were sat up in the hospital bed, “Better than I was, but not perfect.”
He shook his head, walking in and taking a seat next to you, “No one expects you to be perfect right now.” Gently, he reached out and took your hand, skimming the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “They found the mother and the other son, and all three of them are going to go away for a long time,” he told you, speaking in the kind of hushed, reverent tones that are reserved for hospitals.
You sighed and tilted your head back, “Good,” you maundered. “That’s uh, good,” your voice was barely audible.
“So why do you look so worried?” He asked, leaning in closer to you.
In an attempt to dismiss his concern, you joked, “I think I owe Morgan some sort of life debt now.”
Spencer offered you a soft smile, “The two of you tend to trade those off, I’m sure you’ll find some way to make it up to him.” He inclined his head towards you as if to silently say, So what is it really?
You swallowed thickly, “I’m scared to close my eyes, Spence.”
His shoulders dropped, “oh, Angel,” he breathed. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, looping a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Wait, what are you doing?” He asked, watching you as you lifted yourself, so you were on one side of the bed.
Shyly, you patted the new empty half of the bed, inviting him to sit next to you.
He had no choice but to comply, he had the hardest time saying no to you. Leaning the bed back slightly, Spencer kicked off his shoes before he laid down next to you, wrapping an arm around you as you set your cheek on his shoulder.
Your body relaxed into his and you sighed, “Spence?” You murmured.
He pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, “Yes, angel?” He whispered back to you.
“Thanks for coming to save me,” you mumbled, slowly relaxing enough to fall asleep.
Spencer exhaled, “I’m always going to come to save you.”
part two
5K notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 2 months
Text
— QUICK LEARNERS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're sent to Giedi Prime to marry your distant cousin and become the new Na-Baroness. However, your new husband seems to ignore you. You come up with an idea how to gain his attention and you ask one of the Generals from your homeworld to teach you how to wield a blade.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — While writing my fanfic "Forbidden Fruit" I was inspired by the mediterranean and islamic cultures creating the Reader's homeworld. This time I was inspired by my own Slavic culture but as usual – the physical appearance of the Reader is not described. 💘 I really like coming up with all these new planets! Also, I decided it makes sense for the world inspired by the Slavic culture to be related to The Harkonnens, therefore Feyd and Reader are cousins but they're distantly related (as most noble people are, I guess).
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood – the Reader is injured, slight incest (distant cousins), SMUT, oral, hints of breeding kink, Feyd is a bit ooc in my opinion but... so what? he's cute 🤪
WORD COUNT — 7,840
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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QUICK LEARNERS
Your father, The Tsar, worked very hard to make this union happen. Baron Harkonnen had wanted his heir and nephew to marry one of The Emperor’s daughters but your father’s relentless visits, letters and arguments finally worked.
Your family was cousins with The Harkonnen bloodline. You were more used to their culture and you shared similar values. Of course your house was not as important as The Harkonnens. In fact, your planet was under The Harkonnen rule and your father only governed it in their name although his family had been allowed to keep their titles.
Giedi Prime was an industrial planet without any nature which was the opposite of your homeworld. Morana was mostly dark green – a never ending forest full of valuable resources. Sadly, most of them were being transported to Giedi Prime for nearly nothing in return. Your father was determined for The Baron to make it up to your people for all the centuries of colonisation and turn their Grand Duchess into The Harkonnen Baroness.
Your home world was supplying Giedi Prime with important raw materials and fearsome warriors that were known all over the galaxy as ruthless beasts in combat. Growing up in such an environment, you would easily adapt to Giedi Prime even though it lacked the greenery completely. You would make a much better Baroness than any spoiled daughter of The Emperor. Those were your father’s arguments at least.
So, you were sent to Giedi Prime with dozens of heavy wooden chests filled with your most precious belongings. Everything you loved, everything that was defining you – it had to fit in these boxes. You couldn’t take the forests with you nor the rivers, the songs of your people, the smile of your mother, the warmth of the fireplace. All you could take were the dresses and jewels, a few books. And a burden of the realisation how big responsibility had been placed upon your shoulders. To make your parents proud and to become a good na-baroness… and then Baroness. To give heirs.
You knew Feyd-Rautha from all the official ceremonies. You had never talked to him before, he would only greet you with a head nod and a word cousin in his low, raspy voice that was sending shivers of discomfort down your spine. A few times before you had watched him fight in the arena. He was an incredible warrior but his combats were for show which was disappointing for a woman from Morana – a planet known for its art of warfare.
You weren’t scared of him and you weren’t taken aback by his Harkonnen nature nor looks. You were used to The Harkonnens visiting your planet or you visiting theirs with your parents for official events and celebrations. However, you were not pleased with this union either. He didn’t seem to be a pleasant man and you didn’t like the responsibility that came with this marriage.
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Your wedding was grand. Every governor and leader of the planet under The Harkonnen rule was invited. Your dress was white, decorated with traditional red embroidery of your people. On your head there was a flower crown made out of flowers that grew on Morana. But seeing all the people around you, you quickly realised it probably was the last time you’d wear something white. No one around was wearing any colour except for black. The only white clothes you could see were the ones of the servants.
The wedding party was a display of power and violence but it wouldn’t make a girl from your planet flinch. You focused on the cake and tried to remember all the advice your mother had given to you regarding your upcoming wedding night.
She had been straightforward with you. A strong Tsarina like her would never hesitate or shy away. She had told you it would be best if you took your husband from behind so you wouldn’t have to look into his face. And she had made it clear that the marriage should be consummated. No matter how much it would hurt.
You observed your new husband with the corner of your eye but he looked the same as his wedding kiss had felt – bored and unimpressed. Cold.
Around midnight he stood up to leave the table without making any announcements. Panicked, you glanced at your new servant girls and they nodded at you. So, you stood up as well and gathered the fabric of your dress to lift it gently and follow him down the corridor.
He walked fast, you could barely catch up. His silence was heavy between you two. After all, you were his wife now – you were supposed to share a life together – but he chose to treat you like air instead.
When the doors leading to his chambers opened, you entered them right after your new husband. That was when he turned around as if he was surprised. He looked you up and down with contempt and you realised that he had not been pleased with this union.
Perhaps because you were not The Emperor’s daughter. Perhaps he wasn’t finding you attractive enough.
“Cousin,” he drawled as usual.
“Can you not call me that anymore?” You sighed.
“Wife,” you swore there was a shadow of a smirk on his face. But he didn’t say anything else and you felt helpless. You didn’t know how to talk to him.
You tried to remember your mother’s words. You weren’t there to have conversations with him.
“Husband,” you nodded your head at him and he watched with tilted head as you approached his huge black bed and bent over.
“What are you doing?” He snorted at you.
You couldn’t understand. You furrowed your brows and turned your head around. His sneering facial expression embarrassed you but you stayed in your position.
“Would you rather take me the other way around? I didn’t expect you to be a romantic,” you commented.
“I do not intend to take you at all,” Feyd shook his head. “I’m going to sleep. You do whatever,” he shrugged his arms and began to undress.
Clumsily, you straightened yourself and smoothed out the wrinkles of your dress. Once he was in his underwear, without a word he got under the cover and ignored you completely.
You watched in shock as he began to drift off to the land of dreams. You had no idea what to do. Not only you had humiliated yourself but also you had failed to consummate the marriage.
You crouched down and picked up all the pieces of clothing he had scattered all over the floor. Like a dutiful wife already, you folded them neatly and put them away on the chair by his desk. Then you removed the flower crown and your dress, thanking all the gods above that it was not a complicated piece because you had no idea how you’d manage to do that without your servants’ help. You tried to be as quiet as possible while doing that, not wanting to wake Feyd up and cause his anger.
Once you were in your linen underdress, you decided to just join him in the huge bed and go to sleep as well. You were laying as far away from him as possible as you didn’t want to bother him. It was no easy task because he decided to sleep right in the middle of it like he had forgotten already that he was married now and had to share.
You didn’t understand the situation you had found yourself in. When the small orb of light by your bedside turned off, you stared at the pitch black room as all your limbs tensed. You could hear Feyd’s soft snores and the distant sounds of your wedding party, the firework splashes of white ink in the night sky. Yet, you – the bride and the new na-baroness – just laid on the edge of the bed, feeling lonely and humiliated.
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The weeks passed and you remained Feyd’s wife by name only. You shared your chambers with him but he was always awake before you and in the evening you were often asleep by the time he would join you in bed. There were days when you weren’t seeing each other at all. He was busy with training for his fights but also with fucking his concubines. You had found out about all of them from your servant girls.
The most important ones were three scary cannibalistic harpies. The servants were terrified of them because they could end up as their meal any time. There were also other women in your husband’s life but they were regular pleasure slaves and they did not matter as much. With his harpies he seemed to share some sort of bond.
Of course. Now it made sense. How could you even compare to such creatures? However, you did not even want to. You just hoped Feyd would finally be reminded – by his uncle or the medic – that he had to fulfil his duties and produce an heir.
You felt lonely and rejected. Your duties were not many and you quickly realised that most of them were nothing but a show off – just like your husband’s fights in the arena. It was probably because you were a woman and a new addition to the family. The Baron would never actually put you in charge of anything important.
Your only companions were your servant girls. You grew attached to them but they were no friends. Not because you thought of them as less but because of their timid personality. They were terrified of The Harkonnens and they were often trembling whenever they spotted your annoyance. Such a dynamic could not be a base of any real valuable friendship although your heart was breaking for them.
They had told you that the people of Giedi Prime liked you. You were not like your husband nor his family and you looked different because of the pigment of your skin and your hair. Sometimes, to your new black Harkonnen attire you would add a jewellery or a flower crown from your homeworld. The citizens of Giedi Prime adored the additional splash of colour. You expected Feyd-Rautha to scold you for that but he did not. He seemed not to care at all about you and what you were doing.
You had tried everything to get his attention and to seduce him. You had started to wear more revealing nightgowns to bed but he would ignore you. You had walked in on him taking a bath on purpose – pretending it was an accident. He hadn’t even flinched.
You had been asking him things about Giedi Prime and The Harkonnen history – making a fool of yourself by asking him things you had known already. He would always answer dryly and coldly; often without even sparing you a glance. Then he would go on ignoring you.
You had tried to move closer to him in bed at night. Pretending to be asleep, you had adjusted your body slowly until your arms touched. He had woken up abruptly and moved aside, stealing the blanket.
You nearly gave up but there was one more idea you were thinking of. You wanted to share a hobby with your husband. It could not be sex because he refused to touch you, which made you feel so unattractive that you didn’t even think of flirting with other men to cause his jealousy. His coldness made you feel ugly.
No, his other hobby was the blade. And you sometimes observed his training and they always made you miss your home. On Morana the warriors would train day and night just like him. You had often observed them with your father as he was telling you grand stories. And perhaps you were a lady, but you were your people’s Grand Duchess and you could handle the blade. Or so you had thought.
You found one of the generals of The Harkonnen army who was from your homeworld. He looked different than the rest of them because of his longer, braided hair and tattoos on his face that were your people’s spiritual symbols. However, like most of the important military men from your homeworld, he had been sent to Giedi Prime as a young boy to be trained under The Harkonnens. Such boys were some sort of a tribute in the same way your natural resources were. All those years spent under the black sun had made his natural skin colour a few tones paler. But amongst The Harkonnens he still looked the healthiest.
“General Bohumil,” you approached him one day after watching him train with other soldiers. He was putting his blades away as he raised an eyebrow at you, surprised to see you wandering around this part of the fortress.
“Slava, Grand Duchess (Y/L/N), My Lady Na-Baroness Harkonnen,” he bowed down. You smiled at the way he addressed you as it brought back memories of your homeworld where you were addressed as The Grand Duchess and with the word slava meaning glory as a sign of respect. “What brings you here, My Lady?” He asked.
“I was wondering if you’d find some time for me,” you began, a little nervously as he furrowed his brows. “To train me.”
“Train you, na-baroness?” General Bohumil hesitated. He was looking for the right words not to insult you in any way. “What does your husband think of such an idea, my Lady?”
“I don’t think he cares about what I do at all,” you admitted honestly with a shrug of your arms.
He would never say that but you could see the look in his eyes. You were a spoiled and bored noble lady in his eyes and he’d only waste his precious time on you. However, he was too scared to say no. Your question was not a proposition, it was an order. That was the way of The Harkonnens and that was the way your father ruled on Morana, too.
“Alright, my Lady. I can show you the basics,” he nodded. “We can start tomorrow. But I warn you, you can bruise or hurt yourself,” he added.
“I am aware. Those are natural consequences of a combat, General,” you smiled at him. “I will find you tomorrow,” you nodded and went back to your quarters, very pleased with yourself.
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The first week of your trainings – and you had insisted on them to take place every day – General Bohumil was only making you stretch and prepare your muscles for the future extortion. No whining about it could cause him to change his mind. But after the first week you were finally given a blade to hold. It was quite short and light but very swift to move. The handle was wooden with your people’s spiritual symbols engraved on it. It was a traditional blade of the warriors from Morana and it made you feel so proud to be your father’s daughter to wield it. It made you feel as if you were home again.
You were also given a shield-like device that would protect you from hurting yourself or from the General hurting you in an accident. You noticed that he wore one, too, probably expecting you to clumsily wave the blade around and possibly cause some harm with it.
“Repeat the sentences after me, my Lady,” General Bohumil began to show you the most basic moves. You nearly rolled your eyes at how easy they seemed to be but you wanted to be an obedient student and to prove to him that you were not just a bored noble lady. You really wanted to learn.
He corrected your posture and the position of your feet as he lifted your elbow and then he began to show you the same sequence again.
You had many traits that were considered to be positive – it could be seen now, in the way you obediently performed your duties, how you desperately tried to make your marriage work and keep both of the families proud. You cared about your family’s honour, you were aware of the responsibility placed upon you. You would never sabotage your union; you were loyal and proud.
But you also possessed some traits that were considered to be negative – impatience was one of them. You didn’t want to keep repeating the same basic sequence a million times all over again, feeling like a child with a toy sword. You wanted to feel the adrenaline already like your husband when you watched him in combat or the warriors on your planet. Not listening to General Bohumil’s warnings, you started to spice up the sequence with the moves you had only seen in the gladiator arena before.
“My Lady, please, that is too advanced. We will get to it in the right time,” he sighed, trying his best to contain his anger. As a military man he was all about discipline and if you were a common soldier, he would lash out at you, you were sure of that. But you were his Grand Duchess and his Na-Baroness and he couldn’t even scold you. He could only calmly try to explain.
But you wouldn’t impress Feyd with the basic combat moves. You were sure that if he caught you now, he would laugh with contempt. No, you had to be better than that. And you hated to wait.
“This stupid shield,” you turned the device off as General’s eyes widened, “it’s distorting my view,” you whined.
“My Lady, please, turn it back on,” he pleaded. “Your eyes will get used to it after a few weeks of training, I can assure you of that.”
“A few weeks?!” You sneered. “When you talk to me using such long amounts of time, I get discouraged already. You think I’m not good enough to master this art faster than that?”
“It’s not about your personal skills, na-baroness, I assure you. Every man needs time to get better,” he swallowed thickly as he watched you play with the knife in your hand. “Please, turn the shield back on.”
Like a spoiled child, encouraged by the fact that your little hand tricks with the knife came easy to you, you took a step ahead and attacked him. In one swift movement he defended himself as he crossed his knife with yours but you could feel he was not using his full force.
You tried one of the tricks you had seen while observing the fights and you tried to quickly take a step back and attack him once again but straight into his ribcage this time. However, you were not experienced enough to try such a move and the knife clumsily slid through your hand. You hissed out of pain as it sliced through the leather fabric of your pants and through the tender flesh of your thigh.
The General’s eyes widened as he turned his shield device off and approached you quickly. You were in so much pain, you were gritting your teeth but you refused to let out a scream or to sit down. You didn’t want him to see you like this although the tears were already pricking your eyes and you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your leg.
“Na-Baroness!” There was a worry in his voice but he used a scolding tone, not being able to hold himself back anymore.
“Don’t even mention it. I know,” you drawled through gritted teeth. “It’s my fault, I know.”
He nodded his head, relieved that you were not blaming your injury on him.
“You’re hurt, my Lady. Let me escort you to the medical wing,” he insisted.
“No, thank you. I will go there myself,” you told him. “I will be back when it’s healed,” you added and limped out of the door as quickly as your pain allowed you, too.
You wanted to be alone so you could finally start crying out of pain, although you made sure to do it quietly. You were thankful that the medical wing was close to the training section of the fortress for strategic reasons.
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Your servant girls had picked you up from the medical wing. They had been looking at you as if you were crazy but they hadn’t dared to say a word. Your thigh was now disinfected and bandaged and your servants helped you to change into a nightgown as they recommended you to go to bed earlier than usual and get rest. They left you alone in your chamber and assured that they would be nearby if you needed them.
But you weren’t sleepy. You felt ashamed and humiliated as you kept overthinking your stupid behaviour. You knew one thing only – you didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to find out about this accident. He would think of you as weak and foolish… and he wouldn’t be wrong.
You were laying on the bed and reading a book, making sure that your leg was covered by both your nightgown and the duvet. When Feyd entered the bedroom – earlier than usual – you started to suspect he had found out about your accident and wanted to see with his own eyes. You pretended not to pay any attention to him but you watched him from the corner of your eye as you struggled to focus on the book. He sat by his desk and sighed while reading some letters that had been placed there in the morning and you realised it was his time to perform his na-baron duties as he was supposed to deal with the paperwork. He hated this.
Knowing that he was already angry at the fact that he had to answer the letters, you were trying not to bother him at all and you controlled your own breath so it wouldn’t be too loud. On the other hand, you had to admit that Feyd-Rautha had never aimed his anger at you… so far. You had known about his nature before and although you were not scared of him, you had expected him to get violent at times. That had never happened, though. 
Sometimes you wished it had. Because at least he’d react anyway to your presence instead of treating you like air.
Deep in your thoughts, you lost your focus and dropped your book with a loud thump sound on the floor. You froze and glanced at your husband’s shoulders. He stiffened and you quickly leaned in to grab the book, forgetting completely about your new injury as the duvet and your nightgown pulled up and revealed your bandage.
Once you straightened your back with the book in your hand, you noticed the exposed thigh and quickly covered it, hoping that Feyd had not seen it. You looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him staring at you intensely.
“What is it?” He asked with squinted eyes.
He talked to you so rarely that you nearly startled at the harsh and unpleasant sound of his raspy voice. You wondered if you’d ever get used to it.
“This? A book, dear husband. Something about the politics,” you chuckled nervously as you waved your hand, playing a fool.
Feyd stood up and approached the bed as you watched with terror in your eyes. He aggressively tossed the duvet aside and your skin got covered with goosebumps. He lifted up the hem of your nightgown and you hated to admit how electrifying his fingertips felt on your thigh. He had never touched you like that before.
“Who hurt you?” He asked after seeing the bandage again. His cold eyes stared into yours with a burning gaze.
“What do you care?” You asked and shrugged your arms. “It’s nothing,” you assured. “An accident.”
“I care,” he assured you but without any delicacy. “As your husband I am responsible for taking care of you and your honour,” he pointed out. “And as my wife you are my property. Whoever raises their hand on you, raises their hand on me and the Baronship,” he added.
“I did it to myself,” you bit on your lower lip and he tilted his head, visibly in disbelief. “If you paid more attention to me, you’d find out more things about me and you’d know by now that I tend to be clumsy sometimes,” you hissed at him and tried to cover your thigh again but he kept his hand there.
“I do pay attention to you,” he stated. “I observe you. I know when you’re lying,” he clenched his jaw. “Why are you defending the person who hurt you?”
“I’m not lying,” you protested.
“But you’re hiding something from me,” Feyd was relentless.
“Then we are only fair,” you put the book down as you looked at him angrily. “Your whole life is a secret kept away from me. Can’t I have mine?”
“Women on Giedi Prime do not have the same freedom as women on your planet do,” your husband reminded you. “A wife belongs to her husband in a way he will never belong to her.”
“What a relief then that I am not your wife,” you raised an eyebrow and he pursed his lips as he gave you a questioning look. “Because you have not consummated the union and refused so far to perform your duty and secure our bloodline.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Feyd snorted and looked away. “Stupid woman.”
“I do realise I am a disappointment to you. I am not one of the Imperial Princesses and I am not as interesting as your concubines. Not important enough, not attractive enough,” you decided to finally take your chance and tell him everything you had been feeling lately since it was the first opportunity to have some sort of conversation with your husband. He still refused to lay his eyes on you again. “I feel lonely, abandoned and rejected. Homesick. I want to be a good wife. I want to be a good na-baroness. But you’re not even giving me a chance. Out of boredom, I asked one of the generals to teach me how to fight and I hurt myself during training. Yes, it was pathetic of me. Go on, laugh. Make fun of me,” you encouraged him ironically. “At least it will be the very first reaction from you given to me in a long time.”
“Stop it! Stop,” Feyd-Rautha barked at you as he stood up and turned his back on you. He clutched his hands on the chair by his desk.
“Does the sound of my voice repulse you, too?” You asked, angrily. Now, when you finally let all these things out, you didn’t want to stop.
“You don’t understand!” He exclaimed and turned around to look at you with so much intensity that you curled up on the bed, feeling small and vulnerable. After all, he was a strong warrior and you were only a wounded prey. Like one of the rabbits in the forests on Morana, hunted by the hound dogs.
“Then explain it to me,” you whispered. “You owe me that at least.”
“I hurt everything I touch,” Feyd’s confession was sudden and it shocked you both. After a long while of silence between you two, he continued. “Just like him. It’s what this whole family is like.”
“I thought you liked to hurt,” you pointed out.
“Not you,” he answered nearly inaudibly. It was difficult for him to confess those things. You blinked a few times in disbelief.
“Why not me?” You asked, carefully.
“You’re supposed to be my wife. But I… I don’t know how to be a husband,” he looked at you again. You could swear that his sickly pale cheeks flushed slightly. “I was never… taught,” he explained.
“I didn’t expect you to be,” you admitted. “I knew life with you would be difficult. I knew you enough to know that. But nothing could prepare me for being… ignored. Completely,” you made your own confession as your heart pounded in your chest. You moved closer to him and reached your hands out, taking his gently and he didn’t even flinch. He just allowed it to happen, so you squeezed his cold fingers. “I am sorry I am not the wife you wanted.”
“It is not about that,” Feyd looked into your eyes. “And I do not ignore you. I let you be here. Sleep in my bed.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that was already a sign of affection,” you rolled your eyes.
“Protection,” he fixed you. “I don’t trust anyone here. They all work for my uncle,” he lowered his voice. “And as my wife, you are under my protection. If you want to learn how to fight,” he sighed and let go of your hands to sit on the edge of the bed again and reveal your bandaged thigh, “although I do not approve of that, from now on, it will be me training you. Do you understand? I don’t want any other man to teach you. I would never let this happen,” his fingertips brushed on your bandage and you felt a shiver go down your spine.
“I understand,” you nodded, trying not to smile too widely. Not exactly how you had imagined it but your plan to get your husband’s attention seemed to be working.
Feyd looked at your face again as his hand caressed your hair and cheek. You got startled at that at first but then you relaxed under his touch.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t know how to act around… a wife,” he admitted. “All I know is that she should not be treated like a common concubine.”
“So that is why you prefer to be around them. Because at least you know what to do,” you pointed out and he nodded. “You could have told me that.”
He laughed at your words, grinning with that black smile of his. It made you chuckle, too, as you realised how stupid your words were.
“That’s right. The Harkonnens don’t talk about their feelings,” you guessed.
“Our what?” Feyd squinted his eyes at you as his face became serious again. “I don’t know anything about the arrangement between your father and my uncle. But the way you acted on our first night together, it made me realise you are not here by your own will. It brings me pleasure when my concubines fear me but I do not wish for my wife to be scared.”
“I’m not scared of you, Feyd-Rautha,” you assured him. “I have never been.”
He looked a little surprised by your confession.
“You admired me then,” he seemed to be proud of himself.
“I wouldn’t put it that way,” you cooled down his enthusiasm. “You annoyed me,” you explained and he gave you a scolding look. However, he was more disappointed than angry. “You’re a spoiled Harkonnen brat.”
“Look who’s talking. Like you’re not a spoiled little noble lady who decided she wants to learn how to wield a knife out of boredom,” he pointed out.
“I know, I do not deny. Perhaps we are not a bad match at all,” you giggled and his eyes sparkled again. “I’m not used to warriors cheating in the arena, you know.”
“He says it is not the time yet to show my real abilities,” Feyd explained himself quickly, a little embarrassed that you pointed out his cheating. Honour was important to him and it was his weak spot.
“In the bedroom as well?” You raised an eyebrow, surprising your own self with your boldness. “Perhaps you have not been taught about being a husband but you surely know what your main duty is.”
“You’re eager,” he smirked.
“I am not a concubine but I am a woman like they are. I have my own needs and desires. You do not make it easy, ignoring me after coming to bed late at night, smelling like fresh sweat, blood and leather,” you pointed out.
“I fuck like I fight,” he warned you as his pupils darkened. His face was now so close to yours that you felt his hot breath on your mouth and his eyelashes tickled your cheeks.
“Is that a promise?” You whispered.
“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he snorted at you and you felt your cheeks heating up.
“You’re right. You have to show me,” you teased.
“No,” he moved back suddenly and you felt a sharp pain in your heart. He was so close… you nearly had him. “I don’t trust myself around you,” he admitted. “You will show me,” he told you as you raised your eyebrow.
“Me?” You swallowed thickly as his words.
“I’m yours,” he said. “Do whatever you wish with me. If a child is what you so badly want, to make your parents happy, to make my uncle happy,” he explained with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, “then go on, explore, have fun. At your own pace.”
Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realised that he was inviting you to initiate an intimacy between you two. You panicked as you had never expected that he’d want you to take a lead in the bedroom.
“I do not want to have a child to make anyone happy,” you fixed him. “Anyone but me. I want to secure our position on Giedi Prime,” you explained.
“So dutiful,” Feyd smirked.
“We share some values, dear husband,” you nodded and moved closer to him with a soft hiss as your injury reminded you of its presence.
“Easy, wife,” he watched you and you smirked as you put your arms around his neck.
“Are you sure you’re not doing it because you’re avoiding the paperwork?” You asked and pointed at the desk with your chin. Feyd sighed and you giggled. “I knew it,” you bit on your lower lip and sat astride him.
The first thing you did was to take off his shirt. You had observed his body many times before and the sight of his hard muscles had been the most delightful one. You tossed the shirt aside and gasped softly at your husband’s smooth pale skin. You allowed your fingertips to explore every crease, every bump, every vein and every tendon. Carefully, you leaned in and breathed in his scent as your lips softly brushed his shoulder.
His body was a work of art. Daily workouts and trainings were working miracles. He was strong and flexible. The sight alone was enough to make you feel hot. You began to feel the wetness between your legs as you allowed your fingertips to explore the upper part of his body. You tangled your legs behind his waist and moved your hands to his back, feeling the bumpy skin full of thin scars scattered all over. You had noticed them before but only now you gained the courage to ask him about them.
“Was it him?” You asked and Feyd nodded, carefully watching your reaction. But you didn’t flinch or make a disgusted face. You were sad about it. The scars were old. He had to be a young and scared boy once, tortured by his uncle to turn him into the ruthless killing machine he was now.
You leaned in to place a soft kiss upon his cheek.
“Turn around,” you asked and he looked unsure. “You said I could explore and play. I want you to turn around,” you repeated and he nodded, hesitantly, before moving away softly, making sure he wouldn’t hurt your injured thigh. Then he turned his back on you and looked behind his shoulder to see what you were about to do.
You put your hands around his waist and moved closer, still caressing the hard muscles of his abdomen, you leaned in and left a trail of soft kisses up and down his scarred back. From the short conversation you managed to have with your husband you quickly realised that what Feyd-Rautha had never known in his life was tenderness. You wanted to be the first and only person to give it to him. You were his wife and that was your job.
He flinched at the feeling of your soft lips upon his scars but then he relaxed. You lowered the hands resting on his muscular chest and put them on his hips as you shyly hesitated for a while before finally placing one of your palms on his crotch. Innocently peppering his back with delicate kisses, your hand started to massage his bulge through the fabric of his pants. He groaned softly and you froze.
“Don’t stop,” he scolded you.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” you took the hand away and moved back. “You told me I could do it at my own pace. I am not a concubine to order me around,” you reminded him and he turned around to face you again, surprised by your tone. “I am not a shy mouse, Feyd-Rautha. You seem to be aware that women on Morana have more rights. I was raised by a strong Tsarina.”
“Forgive me, I am still learning,” he answered with an amount of sincerity that left you speechless for a moment. As if he really tried to be a good husband.
“It’s quite alright,” you caressed his shoulder. “Lay down for me?” You encouraged and he nodded, quietly.
Feyd moved up on the bed to rest his head on the pillow and you crouched down, waiting for him to be on display for your needy hands. The fact that this terrifying warrior that nearly everyone feared seemed to be so obedient for you just because you were his wife was making you even more and more aroused.
“You’re beautiful,” you murmured as you caressed his chest again. “I mean it.”
“So are you,” he confessed as he looked up at you and you shyly lowered your gaze. “I mean it,” he repeated your words.
“I haven’t felt very beautiful lately,” you admitted.
“I didn’t know,” he confessed.
You didn’t want to talk about it now. You lowered yourself to his neck and sucked on the soft skin only to soothe it with a kiss right after. You went down with your kisses, making sure to leave it upon every inch of his torso before you finally found yourself facing his crotch. His pants looked very tight at the moment. Too tight.
Shyly but curiously, you unbuttoned them and pulled them down with his underwear, watching his hard cock twitching at the feeling of your hot breath. His size impressed you but also made you anxious. You helped Feyd to get rid of his clothes completely and tossed them on the floor before leaning in again.
You grabbed his length carefully as he hissed out of pleasure, trying not to think of all the concubines he had before you – concubines who knew how to please him way better than you did. You hesitated before placing a delicate kiss on the tip.
“Be patient with me, I am only learning,” you looked up, giving him puppy eyes. He was looking down at you with darkened pupils and haze in his gaze.
“Have fun down there,” he growled and threw his head back. You giggled and went back to the soft kisses and kitten licks as your hand pumped his length.
“I’m glad you didn’t take me on our wedding night,” you admitted. “This is so much more fun,” you squeezed his tip and he bucked his hip with a grunt as you watched the black precum leaking out.
You had been educated enough by your mother, servants, medics and all the explicit books you could find in the library. You smirked and licked him clean before lowering your head and taking him as far down your throat as you were able to. You kept yourself steady by holding his muscular thighs but when you felt his cock twitching a little, you let go quickly; your drool mixed with his thick black precum leaked down your chin. Feyd looked up with an annoyed expression on his face but he didn’t say anything this time.
“We can have more fun once I’m expecting. Now we can’t waste any of that, can we?” You tilted your head and pulled your nightgown up to your hips before moving up and lining his cock with your glistening pussy. You swallowed thickly at the sight of how hard and big he was.
“Take your time,” Feyd put his hands on your hips. “It’s a lot to take,” he bragged.
“Oh, so you think I can’t handle it?” You raised an eyebrow.
Just like when it came to wielding a blade, you didn’t like being told that you couldn’t handle something. You were an impatient lady.
“I am your wife,” you reminded him as you slowly lowered yourself. The feeling of his swollen tip brushing your clit made you shiver but you bravely kept a poker face on. “I was made to take your cock and carry your children,” you added. “No matter how big it is, I’m going to take it.”
Feyd winked at you and your heart skipped a beat at that. He could be adorable at times, you had to admit. It made you happy that you could finally experience this side of him. It was worth all the pain your injury had been causing you.
You lowered yourself some more, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he tightened the squeeze on your hips, surely bruising them, too. You hissed and shut your eyes as you threw your head back.
The pain mixed with pleasure, the overwhelming fulfilment with an endless desire to feel him even deeper, to fill you even further, to make you swell and heavy with his children. When you finally sat fully on his cock, you let out a moan of his name as your walls twitched and squeezed him.
“Easy, wife, take your time,” he reminded you. His hands were keeping you down, not letting you move for a while. He was giving you time to adjust to his size and you opened your eyes to look at him below you. You gasped at the admiration on his face. All those weeks of feeling unattractive suddenly vanished from your memory.
You were a daughter of your planet. Morana was known for its fertile soil like you would be known for bearing his heirs. You were his goddess at that moment but you didn’t feel the need to be cruel towards your subject.
“I want you closer,” you breathed out and he nodded, sitting up very carefully, making sure not to hurt you. Once his back rested on the pillow behind him, you clinged to his chest and joined your lips with his in a kiss as your hips began to move slowly.
Feyd’s hands moved your hips and helped you to find the right pace and rhythm. Soon enough you were bouncing on that big cock with ease that came with desire. Feeling that you didn’t require so much of his help anymore, one of your husband’s hands moved down and rested on your bandage. His touch was unusually gentle and you moaned into his mouth, not breaking the hungry kiss even for a second.
After all those weeks of being left abandoned and touch starved, you just wanted to devour him. Nothing mattered; certainly not your wound, not the sweat, not the exhaustion. Your only goal was to chase the high that was coming.
Feeling that your movements became chaotic, Feyd cupped your face and groaned into your mouth as his own hips picked up the pace, taking control over you. You trembled and let out muffled cries of pleasure as he rutted roughly inside of you through your orgasm. Not long after you felt his thick black cum spilling deep inside of you as both of your bodies relaxed.
You broke the kiss and tried to catch your breath. Your husband wiped all the tears off of your cheeks and laid your head on his shoulder gently. You hugged his chest and cuddled him like that in silence.
“Do you remember what you promised?” He asked and you furrowed your brows. “That next time you want to train, you’re coming to me.”
“Yes,” you smiled to yourself. “But I am only learning,” you added, shyly. “I don’t want you to laugh at me.”
“If you’re a quick learner with the blade like you are in the bedroom, then you will soon laugh at me,” he assured you and caressed your back as you giggled into the crook of his neck.
“You’re a quick learner, too, Feyd-Rautha,” you looked up as he looked down, confused. “How to be a husband, I mean,” you explained.
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You watched the servant girls painting your husband’s beautiful body with the black war paint as you caressed your swollen bump through the fabric of your dress. They finished their job and took a few steps back with their heads kept low. One of them handed you the bowl of the black liquid and you approached him as he smiled.
You dipped your finger in the paint and drew one of the symbols of your people on his chest. He looked down, questioningly.
“And what does this one mean?” He asked.
“It ensures good favours of the gods and victory in battle,” you explained softly.
“You know that he hates it when you do that,” Feyd reminded you. Baron Harkonnen would prefer you to become a Harkonnen and give up your old ways completely instead of teaching Feyd more about your culture.
“I know,” you looked up. “That’s why I do that.”
In the beginning you had been indifferent to his uncle but the more you found out about him and the damage he had done to your husband, the more you hated him.
Feyd nodded at you and leaned in to place a kiss upon your forehead.
“Na-Baron, five minutes,” one of the servants reminded him of the time left.
“I will bring you the hearts of my enemies,” he cupped your face as he looked deep into your eyes while making a promise.
“I have only one enemy,” you reminded him, “and he is not in the arena today.”
Feyd nodded quietly. He put his hand on your swollen belly and caressed it.
“Take care of your mother for me for a while,” he said and you chuckled with an eye-roll.
You watched him put the last pieces of clothes and take his blades. You couldn’t wait for the day when he’d become The Baron and he wouldn’t have to do it anymore. Even though the fights were fixed, you still feared for his life. And to think you had used to find this practice unhonourable. Now you were glad that his combats were cheated.
“Slava, Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you blessed him.
He turned his head around for the last time to wink at you playfully and give you his black grin.
“I’ll be right back.”
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MASTERLIST
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smileysuh · 5 months
Text
real talk
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🌙 starring. Mark Lee x afab!Reader
🔮 preview.“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, reader has a hard time cumming, oral (f/m receiving), Mark is a MUNCH, deep throating, fingering, masturbation, use of toys/vibrator, dirty talk, praise, Mark is a simp, sex realism, overthinking during sex, mentions of sexual favours in return for affection, a string of bad ex-lovers, breast worship, creampies, aftercare, finger sucking, drunkenness, etc… I pet names: (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy boy.
👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 19.4k
🍭 aus. Restaurant au, line chef!Mark, slow burn, coworkers to lovers, fuck girl who looks like sunshine meets a serial monogamist who looks like a fuckboy, etc…
☀️ mlist + an. I wanted to touch on some realism to kick off the year. Not everything is as easy during sex as it appears in fanfic/p*rn, so I wanted to make something that might be more true to the real experience of afabs who overthink and need extra help to cum- I hope maybe this fic can normalize girls who need some extra machine power to get off ;)
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One:
Mark has only been working at his new restaurant for two weeks, but he’s already fallen in love with the place. Morning shifts have been good for him.  With the help of his favorite expo girl - who always takes the time to explain small details and things he’s been messing up on - he’s already gotten used to the menu. Every day feels better and better.
“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” you grin, inspecting the plate. 
When he’d first been hired, the fish he’d cut had come out mangled, but after talking him through it, you’d both realized it had been a knife issue. Sharpening his blade had led to Mark perfecting his slices, and now, he eagerly awaits your praises when he puts his food up in the expo window. 
Mark’s eyes follow you as you dart off toward the bar, the plate of tuna balanced perfectly in your hand. The new chef can’t help the smile that works its way onto his lips, and he leans forward, hand flat on the cutting board station in front of him.
“This tuna is looking so good, Mark,” Hyuck’s annoying voice snaps him out of his trance, and Mark turns to look at the man next to him. “God, can you two make it any more obvious that you’re into each other?”
“She’s just doing her job,” Mark assures the other line chef, but he can feel his skin heating at the idea.
“Sure she is. But she doesn’t compliment my cooking as much as she does yours.” Hyuck crosses his arms over his chest, letting out a sigh as his gaze shifts to the view through the expo line. You’re at the bar now, chatting with the man who you’ve just served. However, you’re taking longer than normal, and you’re smiling a lot too.
“No fucking way,” Hyuck breathes, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. “That guy is hitting on her.”
“Is he?” Mark also dips his head toward the expo window, eager for a look.
“Yeah, mans just slipped her his number,” Hyuck laughs. “That’s our little Sunshine though, isn’t it? This restaurant is her playground.”
“What do you mean?” Mark asks.
“Just that she’s quite popular,” Hyuck brushes it off as you approach the expo line again. “Did you get a number, sweet thing?”
“Why, you jealous?” You grin, holding up the slip of paper with digits on it. 
“You wish,” Hyuck scoffs, but Mark gets the feeling there’s something else going on between the two of you, something unspoken. He’s still getting used to the dynamic of the restaurant, and in work spaces like this, relationships aren’t uncommon. He wonders what history you have with Hyuck, wonders what chance he has with you- wonders if it’s even a good idea.
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Two
“Luna never runs her own food,” Sumi notes, standing with you by the entrance to the restaurant while you watch the tall waitress lean against the expo window. “I know that our new chef is cute, but, damn.”
“She can do what she wants,” you laugh, wiping down menus. “Makes my job easier.”
“You know, it’s kind of felt like you and Mark have some sort of understanding,” Sumi grins, moving close enough that your hips touch by the host station. “He watches you a lot.”
“Does he?” Your gaze moves back to the expo line.
“Uh huh, almost as much as Hyuck does- which, by the way, you sure did a number on him.”
“Hyuck will get over it, he’s a fuck boy,” you wave your hand. “I’m great at attracting that kind of guy.”
“Do you get fuck boy vibes from Mark?” Sumi wonders, tapping her pen against the top of her Ipad thoughtfully.
“He’s definitely cute enough to be a womanizer, don’t you think?”
“Key word being cute,” Sumi points out. “I don’t know, he doesn't give me fuck boy vibes like the other line chefs do.”
“Well, he’s roommates with Jeno, isn’t he?” Your eyes move to the bar. Jeno’s a night bartender, but his close friend, Renjun is working today. “Jeno’s a fuck boy, he got Hyuck and Jaemin jobs here. They’re both fuck boys. It would make sense if Mark was that kind of guy too.”
“I’m still not convinced,” Sumi states, crossing an arm over her chest. “Speaking of men though- whatever happened to that guy who gave you his number the other day? Are you actually considering a date with him?”
“I already had a date with him,” you admit. 
“Yikes, from the way you haven’t mentioned it at all, I’d guess it didn’t go so well?”
“Meh,” you shrug your shoulders. “He won’t be getting a second date.”
“How many first dates have you been on this year?” Sumi asks. “Didn’t you say it was like… a lot?”
“Too many to count,” you giggle. 
“So what’s the deal with that? Like- what’s your type? I know you were seeing Hyuck for a little while, how come that didn’t work?”
“It just didn’t,” you say, looking down at the menus you’ve wiped clean. “I try not to think about my failures too much.”
“Really? But you could learn so much from them,” Sumi frowns. “I mean- look at me and Doyoung. I was never into the more serious types, always went for fuck boys and younger guys- but after some soul searching, I realized I needed someone older who had their shit together.”
“You also have a thing for guys in powerful positions, and Doyoung is literally one of our managers,” you point out.
“Well, I’m still a work in progress,” Sumi winks. “Anyways- think about it. If you look at your dating patterns, you might be surprised by what you find.”
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Three
There’s nothing like the air outside after being in a hot kitchen for a few hours. The lunch rush is finally over, and after having a 20 top that ordered an insane amount of food with an even crazier amount of modifications and allergies, Mark is ready to take a massive puff from his vape pen.
He stands by the back exit to the restaurant, looking out at the cars on the street as he takes a long drag. As he inhales, the door behind Mark opens, and he turns to come face-to-face with you.
The shock of seeing you makes him choke a little, and he begins to cough out a large puff of smoke. Mark’s lungs burn, and his skin feels even hotter, enflamed by the embarrassment of you seeing him take a crappy hit when in reality, he’s a vaping veteran. 
“You good?” you ask, reaching out and gently rubbing his back as you step past him.
“Yeah, I, uh-” Mark’s entire body tingles at the physical contact. “Sorry, you just surprised me.”
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” you grin, stopping in front of him. He notices the way your eyes go to his vape pen, and he immediately holds it out to you.
“Want some?”
“I mean, if you’re offering.” You reach out and accept the sleek black vape. “What’s the flavor?”
“Uh… cotton candy?” God, Mark feels like a fool, especially when you raise a brow at him. “I have a bit of a sweet tooth.”
“Didn’t peg you as a sweet tooth type,” you grin, bringing the refillable device to your lips. Mark watches you take a drag, focusing on your mouth and the way you look sucking on something- he starts to imagine what you’d look like sucking on something else, something substantially bigger. 
As you exhale, you cough a little, and Mark wonders if you’re doing that to make him feel better about his screw-up a moment ago- or maybe you simply don’t vape often, he’s not too sure. 
“Thanks,” you say, still coughing as you hand the vape back to Mark. Your fingers brush gently as he accepts it from you, and as Mark brings the device to his mouth, he’s extremely aware of the fact that your lips had just been where his now are. 
He wonders if it means anything that you’d be so willing to swap spit like this, even on something as innocent as a vape pen. 
“How long are you here till?” you ask, breaking him from his daze. 
“Started at seven am, eight-hour shift, should be off around three when the night cross-over guys come in,” Mark explains. 
“Any fun plans for tonight?” you continue to press. “It is a Friday after all.”
“No plans, will probably just go home, make some food, and watch Netflix all night… what about you?”
You sigh. “No hot dates, unfortunately. Will probably do the same as you. Do you have any good show recommendations? I’ve been looking for something new.”
“I mean, it depends, what are you into?” Mark asks, eager to hear more about your tastes, your likes and dislikes- he knows so little about you, mostly things related to work. He’s curious about what you do in your downtime, and he’s grateful he has an opportunity like this to get to know you even a little bit better.
As you part your lips to respond, the back door swings open, and Hyuck steps out, already mid-puff of his neon orange vape. 
“Oh,” the line chef grins, exhaling through his nose and flashing a grin, “Am I interrupting something?”
“No,” you respond quickly, and Mark notes the shift in your energy, “I was just leaving actually.”
“See you later,” Mark offers, watching you hurry off. 
“Classic her,” Hyuck sighs, coming to stand next to Mark.
“What do you mean?”
“She’s a runner, that one,” Hyuck takes another puff from his vape.
“So you two definitely used to date,” Mark states. The interaction he’s just witnessed verifies his suspicion, and since they’re technically outside of work/the kitchen, Mark feels able to actually discuss this now.
“I don’t know if I’d call it dating,” Hyuck cocks his head to the side, eyes still fixed on you where you’re crossing the street a couple hundred feet away. “Look, do you want real talk? You wanna know about your favorite expo girl?”
“Yeah, I wanna know.” Mark lifts his vape to his lips, readying himself for whatever is about to come out of Hyuck’s mouth.
“I know she looks like sugar and sunshine, but I hate to burst your bubble Mark- she’s a bit of a fuck girl, that one.” 
“It takes one to know one,” Mark points out.
“Touche, but to be fair, I never claimed to be anything other than a guy who likes pussy, and little miss sunshine knew that when we started hooking up a few months ago.” Hyuck lets out another large puff of smoke into the air. “Look, I said I’d give you real talk so here it is. She’s got a lot of expectations. Girl reads those horny romance books-”
“Erotica.”
“Yeah, that’s it, erotica.” Hyuck nods to himself. “Well, she reads erotica, and her ideas about fucking are kind of hard to make real. She’s too in her head all of the time. Apparently - and don’t repeat this anywhere - but apparently no guy she’s fucked has ever made her actually cum. She has this thing where someone told her that if a guy doesn’t make you cum, he doesn’t add to your body count, so allegedly her body count is zero and she’s a virgin, but we both know it’s a lot higher than that.” 
“The whole body count thing doesn’t phase me,” Mark says quietly, although the wheels in his head are spinning.
“Sure it doesn’t,” Hyuck scoffs. “Just listen, if you’re into her, it’s not going to work out. She’s not for beginners like you.”
“Beginners like me?” Mark side eyes the line chef.
“You’re Jeno’s roommate, Jeno’s my friend- I know we’ve just met, but I know things about you.” Hyuck explains. “When you were with your last girl, Jeno used to come to the bar and bitch about you never coming out- he’s been wanting you to meet the rest of the boys for a while, but never wanted to invite us over cuz your last girlfriend had some supernatural cootchie-grip hold on you or something- point is, I know you’re a serial monogamist. Two long-term girlfriends. You like the domestic shit, and I get that- but if you want domestic, it’s not our little Miss Sunshine expo girl. She can’t even sleep next to guys she’s fucked- wakes up at five am, and dips out without a word. Trust me on this, dude, you wanna stay far away from that man-eater.”
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Four
“Mark?” you ask, looking at the takeout bowl in front of you.
“Yeah?” he leans forward, lips parting as he waits for your judgment.
“Didn’t they order the spicy yogurt on the side?” You push the rice bowl forward, pointing at the lines of orange tinted cream that cover the veggies. 
“Shit,” Mark cusses, grabbing the chit-paper receipt and scanning it. “There were like, three other modifications, I didn’t even see the yogurt on the side.”
“It’s okay,” you assure him. “It’s takeout, and there’s pretty much no one in the restaurant, so you have time to make another… besides, I’ll just take this one as my lunch.”
One of the perks of the job is getting to take home the food that’s not correct. You’d been dreading going to the grocery store, your fridge empty of easy meals, but now you don’t have to make the trek, and you’re more than happy about it.
“You know, Mark, you’re my favorite new chef.” He’s also the only new chef, and you’ve been reaping the rewards of minor fuck ups the past two weeks. 
Mark, however, doesn’t seem to note your teasing, and he offers you a genuine smile. “You’re my favorite expo girl.”
“Yeah?” you grin. “And why’s that?”
“You’re really nice about things I mess up,” Mark’s eyes shift to the dragon bowl you’re packing up. “Like, you point things out, and you turn them good. As you said, it’s an easy fix, I have the time, and now you get to eat that.” 
“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, that’s for sure,” you laugh. 
“You’re also pretty happy most days, always makes me happy to come in and see our Little Miss Sunshine.” 
“Jeeze, not you calling me that pet-name too,” you roll your eyes. Hyuck had taken to calling you that a few months ago, and somehow the title had stuck. Mark was the only chef using your real name, but it looks like those days might already be behind you.
“It fits,” Mark assures you. “I think it’s cute.”
“Does it fit because I’m cute?” 
You notice the way Mark immediately swallows thickly, his skin turning a pretty shade of pink. “Uh- I mean, yeah,” his voice cracks, and he fiddles with his sleeves, pushing them up to his elbows, “you’re cute-”
“Oh my God-” you stare at his forearms, which are usually covered by his chef coat. “Have you always had all those tattoos?!”
“Did you really never notice these?” Mark looks down at his arms, lifting them so you can see the details.
“I have never noticed them,” you confirm, leaning forward. “Damn, how many tattoos do you have?!”
“A lot?” Mark’s tattoos are patchwork style, all black. They litter his forearms, and you wonder how high up the markings go- you wonder if his chest is covered, or his back- what about his legs?
“I need a tattoo tour,” you insist.
“I mean… I can’t show you all of them-” Mark says sheepishly. 
“Start with that one,” you point at a tattoo of three letters near his inner elbow, “What’s SSG mean?”
“So uh- the first restaurant I worked in, a few of us dishwashers worked our way into the kitchen with no formal training or anything- just started at the bottom, and went up from there. One of us came up with the idea of being the Soapy Suds Gang, like- dishwashers to chefs. Was at that restaurant from the age of fifteen to twenty, and when it closed down cuz the owners just didn’t wanna be in the business anymore, me and all the others got the matching SSG tattoo.”
Mark is adorable. Like, shockingly so. It’s such a stupid yet endearing story- and for some reason, it feels so on-brand for Mark. 
He begins to tell you about a few other tattoos. There’s a shotgun to commemorate his years playing Call of Duty online with friends. A cartoon puppy because apparently his mom never let him get a dog - something about him not being able to handle it if the dog ever died - so when he turned eighteen, he got a dog that could never bite the bullet, etched into his skin with black ink. 
All the marks have meaning, stories that make up the groundwork of Mark’s life. 
“What about that one?” you ask, noting a King of Hearts tattoo that he’d skipped over.
“Oh, uh…” Mark rubs the back of his neck shyly. “My ex-girlfriend wanted a Queen of Hearts tattoo, so I got this one, and… I mean, I don’t regret it, I was with the girl for three years- but, it’s not a tattoo I talk about too often.”
“Three years?” you ask in shock. “You were with your last girlfriend for three years?”
“Why do you sound so shocked?”
“It’s just- I mean,” you lick your lips, leaning in so Mark’s the only one who can hear you, “I hate to say it, Mark, but you look like a total fuck boy.”
“I’m really not,” Mark admits. 
“Even before your last ex?”
“Even before,” the line chef confirms. “I’ve got two ex-girlfriends. The last one ended about a year ago, dated her from age twenty-two to twenty-five. Had a girlfriend from when I was sixteen to twenty-one-”
“So a three-year relationship and a five-year relationship?” 
This gossip keeps getting juicier and juicier. 
“Yeah. The first one moved to another country to teach English, and I’ve never been that into long distance. We tried to make it work, but we agreed the best thing was to let each other go. Then the last girl decided she wanted more from life than some line chef so…” Mark trails off and you feel your heart hurt for him. “Anyways, what about you? How many relationships have you had?”
“A lot more than you,” you answer quickly, although, that’s only if you count one-night stands, flings, and situationships, but you won’t go into those details with Mark right now. “I mean… are you looking for anything right now?”
“What do you mean?” Mark cocks his head to the side.
“You didn’t hear it from me, but… a few of the waitresses are into you,” you whisper.
“Really?” he looks past you at the restaurant, and you see him trail Luna with his eyes. “That’s nice and everything, but waitresses really aren’t my type.”
“Then what’s your type?”
“Expo girls.” 
His words hit you in your chest, and you can feel your pulse quicken immediately.
“I mean-” Mark’s skin has returned to that pretty pink colour. “My first girlfriend- the five-year one, she was the expo girl when I met her- we got close cuz we spent so much time together. I didn’t mean you- I wasn’t trying to hit on you or anything- not that I don’t think you’re cute, cuz you’re definitely cute- fuck.”
You watch him, smiling and completely amused. It appears you’d read the new line chef all wrong. He’s not a fuck boy, he’s a lover boy, and you kind of adore that about him.
“I should uh- I need to remake this dragon bowl-” Mark turns away from you, and you watch him scurry off to the fridge to grab vegetables. 
You’re kind of hoping to tease him so more when he returns, but before he does, Doyoung appears from the back, and he waves you over. “It’s been dead for half an hour,” your manager notes, “you’re cut. Head home, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
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Five
Mark hasn’t been able to stop thinking about your conversation. All night, he’d had you on his mind- and he’d kind of been hoping to get to talk to you today, but you have the day shift and this is one of his first nights scheduled.
Even so, Mark arrives to work thirty minutes early just on the off chance he’ll catch you, and as he’s waiting outside the backdoor, hitting his vape, his hopes come true.
You step out of the back of the restaurant, looking down at your phone. The jacket you’re wearing today is vibrant in contrast to your all-black uniform, and the comfy sneakers you always put on after your shift in flats are beginning to look a little worn out now that winter is almost over. 
“Hi,” Mark says, drawing your attention.
“Oh,” you put your phone into your pocket, offering him a smile. “Hey- you just starting?”
“In ten minutes or so,” the line chef nods. “I uh- I wanted to apologize for yesterday.”
“Apologize for what?” You cock your head to the side. 
“All of it?” Mark suggests.
You laugh, and the sound does things to Mark that he’ll never be able to express. “Seriously, we’re all good,” you assure him. “I think you’re pretty cute too, so, don’t worry about any of it.”
Mark’s mouth feels dry, and it’s not just from the vaping. He fiddles with the device in his hand, working up the courage to say what’s on his mind. “I was wondering- I mean, it sounds like you’re still on the market and all- so I was thinking, maybe, if you’d like- maybe we can go out sometime, or something- but no pressure.”
Your smile widens, and you step closer to him. “What would going out with you look like?”
“Honestly…” Mark swallows thickly, “it would look more like staying in. Since we both work in a restaurant- or maybe it’s just a ‘me thing’, but I’m not super into drinks as a first date, or even food- I’m a bit of a homebody. I’d love for you to just come over, watch some netflix, talk- that sort of shit.”
You look him up and down, and Mark’s body tenses as he waits for your response.
“That actually sounds pretty nice,” you admit. “Here, give me your hand.”
Mark holds out his palm, watching you pull out a Sharpie from your pocket. You write your phone number across his skin. “Careful,” you say, as you draw the last digit, “Don’t wash this off or anything.”
“I won’t,” he assures you, already planning on taking a picture of it with his phone just in case. 
“I should get going, but yeah- text me when your shift is over and we can figure something out.” 
“You got it,” Mark grins, unable to hold in his excitement any longer. “Have a good night.”
“You too.” 
With one final exchange of eye contact that makes Mark’s heart lurch in his chest, you walk off, the line chef’s eyes following you all the way out of sight. 
As he turns to head inside, Mark bumps into Hyuck. “Don’t go in just yet,” Hyuck insists, “stay out here and vape with me for a minute.”
It’s hard for Mark to focus on anything Hyuck is saying about the afternoon rush, but he manages to nod and make sounds of affirmation while his coworker rants about some party of fifteen that walked in and only ordered appetizers. 
“Mark, you’re not paying attention,” Hyuck sighs.
“Sorry, I’m just kind of-” Mark swallows the lump in his throat, “yeah, I’m distracted.”
“Got a hot date?”
“What?” Mark looks up.
“Someone wrote their digits on your hand,” Hyuck grabs at Mark’s wrist, “let’s see-”
Mark tries his best to pull away, but Hyuck’s already assessing the phone number. After a moment, the younger man lets go, his mouth forming a firm line. “I warned you about her.”
Mark’s surprised that Hyuck - who has the memory of a goldfish most days - clearly recognizes your phone number. 
“I told you she’s not for beginners.” 
“Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen to you,” Mark insists. “And not everything is about fucking. She’s gonna come over, we’re gonna watch movies- nothing has to happen. I just want to know her better.”
“Lover boy,” Hyuck scoffs, “she’s going to eat you up, and spit you back out.”
“And if she does, then that’s my choice,” Mark says firmly. “I know she fucked you over or whatever, but that doesn’t mean anything to me, Hyuck. I’m sorry, but I really don’t care about what happened between the two of you.”
“Ouch, dude.”
“If she’s as bad as you say, then you can say you told me so when this is all over. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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Six
“So this is Jeno’s famous fuck pad,” you tease, stepping into Mark’s apartment and looking around. 
“Uh, he doesn’t actually bring girls here that often,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He likes to go to their place, makes it easier to run than kicking a girl out the next morning, you know?”
“I suppose that makes sense,” you nod… you usually fuck guys in their homes for the same reason. “It’s a nice place.”
“Thanks, my ex had a lot to do with the decor and shit.” Now that Mark mentions it, the vibe definitely doesn’t scream ‘boy’, and it especially doesn't scream ‘home of a line chef and bartender.’ 
The cream-colored couch in the living room has pretty sage pillows, there’s a tasteful rug under a circular coffee table. On the table are three candles varying in size, as well as a design book that you’d bet has never been opened or looked at in detail by the men who live here.
It’s a comfortable home, but you wonder what it feels like for Mark to live in a space that constantly reminds him of an ex who ditched him for not having his own shit together.
“I didn’t realize Jeno was a tidy guy,” you note, thinking back to the line of dirty cups he always allows to build up in the bar dish area. 
“He’s not, but I am.” Mark enters the living room, and he takes a seat on the couch, kicking his legs up onto a small puff stool next to the coffee table. “I guess when you work on the line, you’re used to doing little clean-up jobs to keep everything smooth. I don’t mind moving two or three beer cans to the sink every day if it means there aren’t any piles building.” 
So he’s a sexy line chef, with tattoos, who likes long-term relationships, and also cleans up his home? Mark really is a catch amongst flounders.
“Are you going to come sit?” Mark asks, noting the way you stand at the edge of the room. “Or, shit, should I offer you a drink first? We’ve got beer, or I could make you a cocktail or something-”
“I’m good, just… getting used to this.” 
It feels kind of odd to be with Mark in a casual setting. You’ve only ever seen him in a professional manner, with an expo station between you both- now, Mark is right in front of you, and as you sit on the couch next to him, you’re hyper-aware of the way your thighs almost touch.
“So… Netflix?” you ask.
“Yeah,” Mark grabs the remote, the sleeve of his hoodie pushed up so you can see his forearms. 
“You still haven’t given me a full tattoo tour,” you tease, reaching out to gently trace the puppy etched against his skin.
“Maybe that’s a date number two sort of thing,” Mark suggests, tugging the fabric down to cover his skin.
Your grin widens. “Do I make you nervous, puppy boy?” 
“Definitely,” he lets out a shy laugh, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob with the effort of swallowing. “So uh… what do you wanna watch?”
You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the couch. “Surprise me.”
“Well, there’s this anime I’ve been wanting to get into-” Mark finds the show in his ‘to watch’ list.
“Let's do it.”
“Really? You’re down?”
“Uh huh, I’m not that picky,” you nod, offering him a smile.
“It can be…” he starts the first episode, “like- if you wanna keep doing this sort of thing, it could be our show.”
“That actually sounds nice,” you admit. You suppose it shouldn’t be a shock that Mark is thinking long term- you do work together after all, but when you’d been seeing Hyuck, every day was a question of longevity. Would he call? Would he not call?
Hyuck never talked in definitives. He never made promises. The only true thing you could count on was seeing him at work three of five days of the week when your schedules aligned, and he never locked himself in for any more than that. 
“Should I-” Mark licks his lips, “I mean, finding a show was way easier than I thought it would be. Do you want a drink? I’ve got chips?”
“I’m okay, but if you want something, you should grab it.”
“I’m good if you’re good,” Mark mutters, leaning back against the couch. Your shoulders are touching, and you’re already finding it difficult to focus on the tv screen as the anime begins to play.
You’re aware of each breath, each slight shift of Mark’s body. “Are you comfortable?” he asks after a short while.
“I mean, we could probably find a more comfortable position than this one,” you note. 
“Like… do you wanna cuddle?”
“If you want to, I’d be up for that.”
“Okay, one sec,” Mark turns, grabbing at the back cushion of the couch. He tosses it to the side. “I can big spoon you.”
In under a minute, Mark is settling behind you, pillows are adjusted, and a gentle hand finds your hip. You wiggle slightly, trying to get snug against the line chef’s chest. 
“Is this good?” he asks, his breath ghosting by your ear.
“It’s nice, but let me just…” you grab his hand, threading your fingers and bringing it up to your chest, so you’re truly wrapped in his embrace. You can feel his heart against your spine, and you can hear the way his breath catches. “That’s better,” you let out a sigh of relief. 
The anime is fun, but you’re much too focused on Mark. Something tells you he’s quite focused on you as well, and finally, your patience snaps. You roll onto your back, looking up at him.
“You good?” he prompts.
“Uh huh. Just thinking.”
“About?”
You shrug. “I guess maybe I’m just wondering what work is going to be like tomorrow.”
“Hopefully busy.”
You laugh at how innocent Mark can be. “I mean in terms of cuddling with you tonight, then working together in the morning.”
“I mean… how was it with Hyuck when you two were seeing each other?” 
Your heart clenches. “Oh… he uh… he told you about that, huh?”
“Mentioned it once or twice.”
“All good things, I hope?”
“For the most part,” Mark nods. “But just so you know- I don’t take everything Hyuck says seriously. You two had something going on, but every relationship is different. I’m sure you have your own side to the story. I know you’re a good person - that’s what my heart tells me at least - so that’s what I’m going off of.”
You stare up at the line chef. The man you’d pegged as a fuck boy, who is turning out to be the farthest thing from a womanizer that you’ve ever met.
You can’t help but reach up and cup his face. There aren’t words that come to mind, but you hope your expression shows your gratitude for his kindness.
Mark’s gaze dips to your mouth, and you watch the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, gnawing on his slightly. “So no pressure or anything,” he says, voice cracking, “but uh… can I kiss you?”
“You can kiss me,” you confirm, staying still and waiting for the precious man to make his move. Part of you is scared to take control- you’re worried about scaring Mark off, like you’d scare off a wild bird with one wrong muscle twitch. 
You’re still cupping his face, and Mark mirrors the act, gently cupping your cheek. He looks down at you, searching your eyes for a moment. You wonder if he’s looking for any hesitation, any sign that you regret your affirmative answer. Then he looks at your lips, and you can see some of the tension leave his body.
In fact, you see the exact moment Mark decides to give in to his desires. His lips part ever so slightly, his brown eyes shyly meeting your own as he begins to move in closer-
As his mouth presses to your own, you realize this might be the softest kiss a man has ever bestowed upon you. He’s not trying to shove his tongue down your throat- not biting at your lip and asking for entrance. It’s a simple brush of lips on lips, and it leaves you wanting more.
Your hand finds the back of his neck, and you drag him closer, letting out a small mewl. You capture his bottom lip between your own, suckling on it gently-
Mark pulls away, and your eyes open. You’re disappointed, but when you notice Mark breathing heavily, your annoyance dissipates.
“Was that okay?” you ask, worrying that maybe you’d been going too fast for the soft man.
“Yeah- better than okay,” he assures you. 
“Can we… can you kiss me again?”
“Uh huh,” he nods, leaning back down to press his lips against your own. His hand finds your hip, and you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The kiss is just as gentle as the first, but the passion begins to burn brighter with each passing second.
No one has ever kissed you like this.
You can’t explain it- but in a matter of moments, your attraction to Mark has grown tenfold. 
When he breaks away from you for a second time, you’re both breathing heavily. You open your eyes to stare up at the pretty line chef, watching him swallow thickly.
 “Should we uh… should we keep paying attention to the show?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “Yeah, we should.” You roll onto your side again, and Mark settles against your back. He tucks you closer, his fingers threading through yours. 
It’s impossible to focus now, and you begin to wiggle slightly, pressing your ass back against the front of his jeans.
“Are you uncomfortable?” Mark asks, letting go of your hand to grab your hip, steadying you.
“I’m fine- I’m just…” - unbelievably horny - “you’re a good kisser.”
He lets out a small laugh. “Thanks. I liked kissing you too.”
“So…” you look over your shoulder at him, “wanna kiss me again?”
Mark grins, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
As with the first two times, Mark pulls away much too fast for your liking.
Your head is spinning. You’ve never experienced a situation like this. Mark is being respectful- he’s keeping his hands in PG locations, and the kisses have involved zero tongue- does he not like you as much as you like him?
How much do you like this line chef?
Do you like him because he’s not completely fawning over you like you’re used to?
What is going on?!
“I just want you to know,” Mark says, “it sounds like you’re used to fuck boys and shit, and I uh- well, I’m not like them. There’s no pressure to get naked or anything today-” his voice hitches, “in fact, Jeno will be home soonish so it’s better if we don’t-”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
Mark tenses behind you. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“If we move to your room, Jeno won’t walk in on us.”
“It’s not about that,” Mark assures you. “Look, I want to take my time with you. This is our first date. I want things to feel right. I want to do this right. Can you understand that?”
You think maybe you’re too horny to want to understand it. 
You want to tear Mark’s clothes off. You want to push him down and ride him until he’s gasping your name and filling you with his cum. You want to feel him still dripping out of you when you go into work tomorrow morning- 
No one has ever made you wait. You’re much too impatient for playing around- and your past lovers have been the same way. 
Even so, you respect the boundary Mark has just expressed. “No fucking tonight,” you agree, “I get that. It’s for the better.”
However, it’s not for the better of your throbbing pussy. 
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Seven
God, Mark can’t take his eyes off of you. It’s been two hours since you arrived on shift, and Mark has been distracted for all of it.
You look adorable today. Your black outfit hugs your body just right, and Mark’s mind is consistently wandering to last night, when his hands had traced your hips before lacing your fingers-
When you speak, he finds his focus shifting to your lips- those pretty lips he’d kissed. The lips that had left him wanting more- the lips he’d thought about for hours after you’d gone home. He’d dreamt of kissing you, but it had fallen quite short to the real thing.
You’d sounded hurt when Mark had said you shouldn’t fuck last night, and part of Mark regrets drawing the line in the sand. But on the other hand, Mark had meant it when he said it wasn’t the right time. 
He doesn’t want to bed you after watching a few episodes of anime. You deserve so much more than that. 
Besides, if he had fucked you last night, Mark might have needed to take a sick day just to calm down. Even now, knowing he’s tasted your lips has his skin heating every time he looks at you. 
God, you’ve got him practically bewitched.
As the lunch rush comes to an end, Mark finds time to go outside and vape. He watches the cars pass while he puffs on his device, closing his eyes and imagining your lips.
As his little break is coming to an end, the door hinges squeak behind him, and Mark turns to find you standing there. 
“Oh, hi,” you grin. 
“Hey.” He looks you up and down. “You leaving?”
“Doyoung cut me again, it’s been slow this week,” you nod. 
Mark swallows thickly. He can’t help the way his gaze dips to your lips again.
You step forward, smiling. “You wanna kiss me again, don’t cha, Mark?”
He doesn’t even bother responding. He slips his vape into his pocket, grabbing your hips to tug you closer. As he brings his mouth down to yours, he pauses for a second, meeting your gaze. If you want to pull away, he gives you ample time, but instead, you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, closing the distance between your lips.
You take more control today than last night. You lick at his lower lip, not doing too much tongue, but providing just enough that it has Mark’s skin tingling with need. His fingers dig against your hips, pulling you tighter. 
The kiss deepens, and Mark’s entire heart lurches in his chest when you let out a pleased mewling sound.
Fuck, he loves your sounds already- you sound so fucking pretty-
“Jesus.” Head Chef John’s voice makes Mark practically jump, and he tears his lips away from your own, eyes immediately finding his boss, who’s standing by the exit door. “Damn, newbie, you work fast, don’t you?”
Mark’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and he’s quick to let go of your hips, stepping away and running an awkward hand through his hair, “Chef-”
“Don’t tease him, Johnny,” you sigh. “You nearly gave Mark a heart attack sneaking up on us like that.”
“I’m shocked neither of you heard the door.”
“We were busy!” you insist, raising your voice in jest at the head chef.
Mark is shocked at the way you talk so easily with his boss. But he supposes you’ve been at the restaurant for over a year- maybe you’re closer with the tall head chef than Mark realized.
“Look, I’ll say what I said when Hyuck was trying to get with you, sunshine,” Johnny grins, reaching into his pocket to pull out a jacked-up vape pen. “As long as you use protection we’re good, I can’t have my line chefs becoming fathers and taking time off.”
“And I’ll say what I said last time you told me to wrap it: never gonna happen.” 
“IUD’s aren’t a hundred percent viable,” Johnny points out, making Mark nearly choke on air.
“Mine has been so far, so stick it old man.” You turn to Mark, “Don’t mind him, he’s protective.”
“I was protective with Hyuck, because he’s a douchebag, but Mark seems okay,” Johnny laughs. 
“Thanks?” Mark can’t believe what he’s hearing. 
“Listen, I’ll text you okay?” You grab the front of Mark’s apron, pulling him in so you can press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Have a good rest of your shift.”
Mark watches you dart off. He’s tongue-tied, skin still flaring, heart racing in his chest.
“She’s a good one,” Johnny muses. “Best expo girl we have. Don’t fuck it up, Mark, I’ll fire you before we get rid of her.”
“Trust me,” Mark coughs, “I wasn’t planning on fucking things up any time soon.”
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Eight
In the year you’ve had your solo apartment, you’ve not had any guys over. Your MO is to go to the man’s place so you can dip out whenever you get anxious or tired. Inviting a man over to your safe space woman sanctuary is new. The nervousness is manifesting physically; you’re fussing over the overswept floor and the frill on your couch blanket when Mark texts you that he’s arrived. 
With one final breath, you head down to the lobby to let Mark in.
He’s in blue jeans and a black hoodie that sets off the blonde tone of his hair. You’ve been meaning to ask him about who does his bleach out, but you know men can be touchy about their physical appearance and certain body modifications, so you’ve been holding yourself back.
He looks good. That’s all that really matters. 
“Hey,” Mark grins as you open the door, pulling you into a hug. 
“Hey, yourself,” you smile back, pulling away from the embrace to lead Mark to the elevator. You can hear the line chef following you, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about your building. 
“It’s a nice place,” Mark notes, as if he can read your mind. “New build?”
“I think it’s been here like three or four years? I moved in last winter.”
“Right,” he nods, coming to a stop next to you as you hit the button to call the elevator. 
You can feel him staring at you, and it’s making you even more nervous. “What?” you ask, letting out a short laugh.
“Nothing, you just uh… you look cute.” 
“I’m literally in PJ’s.” Your gaze dips to your simple fuzzy purple shorts, and the tank top you’re wearing.
“But they’re nice. I’ve only ever seen you in work outfits, and when you came over last time you were in jeans. You look cute dressed down like this.”
You’d been worried about being so casual with Mark- dressing for comfort instead of the need to impress, but it seems you’ve succeeded in both comfortability and making a good impression. 
“Thank you,” you smile, your insides practically glowing from the compliment. No other man has seen you this way and called you cute- it’s one of the reasons you usually dip out from a man after sex. There’s no comfort or getting comfortable- your other relationships have always been rigid, a push pull and need to be perfect at all times in order to be deserving of attention.
You make it up to your floor, and another wave of anxiety washes over you as you let Mark into your small apartment. “It’s not much,” you sigh, “but it’s home.”
Mark slips off his sneakers by your door, looking around. “No, I like it,” he assures you. “No roommates kicking around- I bet living alone is pretty relaxing.”
“It can be, but it’s also lonely at times,” you admit.
“Well, if you get lonely here, you can always call me and I can come entertain you.”
Mark’s words give an air of longevity. He sounds certain about this, as if it’s a given that he’s part of your life now, as if he’s not going anywhere. 
You’re not sure what to make of Mark. You’ve never really had steady consistency from a man- but he seems so sincere, it makes you want to be hopeful, and hope can be a dangerous thing for a girl like you.
“So uh… can I get you something to drink?” you ask. “We’re just watching anime right?”
“I’m good. If I get thirsty, I’ll let you know,” Mark assures you, taking a seat on the couch in your living room. “Should we uh… should I move some of these pillows so we can cuddle again?”
You grin, pouring yourself a cup of water. “If you want to cuddle, we can cuddle.”
“I want to cuddle,” Mark states, immediately grabbing at the cushions and rearranging your space to allow for you both to lie down. 
He’s adorable. Laying down in front of him already feels kind of natural. The way he grabs your hip and tugs you close to his chest has your heart singing, and his breath against the back of your neck is as familiar as anything.
Not much needs to be said as you start your anime. You’re simply enjoying the comfortability of companionship- companionship lacking any pressures or timeframes. You’re two souls sharing your moments together.
It’s a different feeling for your mind to go blank while you’re with Mark. You’re shocked by how safe you feel in his embrace. 
You talk here and there, the two of you discussing moments in the anime, but conversation doesn’t get much deeper than that. You actually kind of enjoy not having to use your brain, and you’re definitely enjoying the warmth of the man behind you.
“I’m uh, gonna take my hoodie off,” Mark tells you, shifting slightly. 
“Okay.” You give him space, turning to look over your shoulder as he lifts the fabric off his body, revealing the white tshirt below. “Wait, can you give me a deeper tattoo tour now?”
“Uh…”
“You said you’d give me a proper tour on the second date,” you tease, hooking your finger in the neck of his shirt and gently pulling, giving yourself a tiny peak of marked skin along his collarbones.
“I guess I did say that, didn’t I?” Mark laughs sheepishly. “Okay,” he takes a deep breath, sitting up again and grabbing the hem of his shirt.
As Mark reveals his chest to you, you’re a little taken aback by what you see.
Generally, you’re pretty good at guessing a man’s build under his clothing, but Mark is much more toned than you thought he would be. It’s clear he works out, and the muscles you see are amplified by tasteful placement of tattoos littering his torso.
“Where do I even start?” Mark asks, looking down at himself.
“Wherever you want to.” You turn to face him, anime forgotten in the background.
He brushes his own fingers across one of the ferns decorating his collarbones. “These are my mom’s favourite plant.”
“Her favourite plant?” you grin.
“Yeah, I know, most moms have a favourite flower, but my mom kind of really likes ferns.”
“Sounds like you’re close with her,” you note.
“I’m a complete mama’s boy,” Mark admits with a laugh, which is when your gaze lands on a heart with the word ‘Mom’ tattooed on his ribs.
“I see that.” You reach out and gently brush the mark.
The line chef shivers under your touch, the muscles in his abdomen jumping deliciously. You wonder how ticklish he is. 
“Then this one,” Mark touches the moth blooming out from his sternum, “was just really cool and the artist needed someone to practice on, so I said, let’s do it, fuck me up.”
You grin at his choice of words. Mark can be kind of reserved at work, it’s interesting to hear his dirty mouth now that you’re alone. 
You kind of love listening to him as he continues with the tour, tracing the lined patch work. Each mark is another story or detail about the line chef you’re starting to fall for, and you commit his words to memory. 
He’s done the tour of his tattoos much too fast for your liking. You trace the last of the marks, a dagger on his bicep. 
Laying on your back with Mark on his side next to you, things feel very intimate, especially now that his focus has shifted away from his tattoos and is solidly fixed on you.
His hand finds your abdomen, and he gently lines the curve of your hip with his fingers.
Neither of you say anything, caught in the peaceful quiet and moments of mutual discovery. 
His fingers brush by your rib cage, and you’re struck by the need for more. Gently placing your hand over his, you prompt him up higher, until his palm is placed over your breast. You sneak a glance at Mark, noticing the way he swallows thickly.
“Are you a boobs man, Mark?”
“I mean… who isn’t?”
You grin at his answer. “Should I take my shirt off? It’s only fair, right? Yours is off.”
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you.
“I want to take my shirt off.”
“Then take your shirt off,” he says quietly.
You sit up, quickly discarding the fabric before laying back down again. Now you’re just in a bra and PJ shorts. Mark sucks in a breath, his hand finding your bare hip. Once again, you have to guide his touch up to your breast. This time, when he squeezes you, his thumb rubs over the swell of plump flesh.
You can feel your nipple hardening with interest, pressing against the cup of your bra. “We should take this off next,” you suggest, grabbing at your strap.
“Yeah?” Mark’s eyes widen as he looks at you, his lips parting as he breathes heavier.
“I mean, unless you want me to keep it on?”
“Like I said,” the line chef brushes his thumb over your skin again, “do whatever makes you most comfortable.” 
You sit up again, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. For a moment, you pause. This is a line you won't be able to uncross. You’re about to show your coworker your boobs. Your sweet, honest, adorable, line chef coworker, who gazes at you with stars in his eyes- your fuck boy look alike secret softie-
You undo your bra, throwing it off the couch before laying flat again. This time, you don’t have to prompt Mark’s hand, he gently traces his fingers up your ribs until he’s cupping your breast. He watches you tentatively, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers.
“You think so?”
“I know so,” Mark says, firmly this time.
“Come here,” you reach up to cup the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours. He kisses you like he’s afraid you might break, but when you whimper, he responds with a groan, deepening the passion as his tongue glides against your own.
His hand kneads your breast, making you moan again, pushing up toward his palm. You can feel the desire growing between your legs as he kisses you, and you reach out to trace his chest. Your touch begins to lower, fingers grazing over his abdomen-
Mark breaks the kiss, nuzzling against your jaw to prompt your face to the side so he can access your throat. He peppers your skin in soft kisses, slowly descending until he reaches your collar bones-
You realize what he’s about to do and tangle your fingers through his soft blonde hair, pushing your chest up in silent affirmation. “Mark-” you whimper, rewarded when his wet lips wrap around your nipple.
Fuck, he feels so good-
Has anyone ever felt this good?
Maybe it’s the waiting- the going slow, or maybe it’s just the fact that Mark makes you feel safe, but regardless, each touch, each brush of his lips and tongue, has you mewling. You’re pretty sure you’ve soaked through your panties at this point, your pussy practically throbbing with each flick of his wet muscle against your pebbled nipple.
“Mark?” you whisper, tightening your grip in his hair. “Are you…” you swallow thickly. “Are you going to fuck me?”
The line chef pulls away from your breast, looking up at you with dark chocolate eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do-”
“What if I want this?”
“I usually don’t sleep with girls on the second date-”
“Make an exception?” you plead. 
You haven’t been fucked in a few weeks, and you’re feeling desperate. You want to connect with Mark on that physical level, and sex is always the way you do that with men. You want him to feel good, to give him a reason to stick around like he says he will.
“But wait-” you feel your skin heat, “I have something I should tell you first.”
Mark cocks his head to the side, waiting for you to continue.
“I uh… I’m going to be super real with you right now.” You take a deep breath. “Look, I read a lot of smut? That’s like- I read a lot of erotica, written porn, I guess- and, in smut, and porn especially, girls always just cum so easily- and I wish I was that type of person, but I’m not. No guy has ever… you know, gotten me there. What I’m trying to say is, I can have fun even without cumming. So if I can’t get there with you, it’s not you, it’s literally me-”
“Hey,” Mark reaches up to cup your cheek, cutting off your rambling. “Thanks for telling me, but there’s no pressure. Whatever happens, happens. For some girls, you have to get more comfortable. My first girlfriend was like that too, and there’s never any judgement from me. I’m willing to wait for you to feel safe enough that your body relaxes.”
“You are?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you. “I mean, I can’t promise that I’ll be as good as the guys in your books or in porn. Dirty talk is something I have to get used to using too, but, if we give it time, I’m sure we’ll figure each other out.”
You search his eyes, processing what he’s just said. Then you give him a small nod. “That sounds good to me.”
“Good.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “But, if we’re going to do this, I’d like for us to go to your bedroom, if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, of course.” You sit up, getting off the couch quickly while Mark follows. As you get to the door of your bedroom, you look over your shoulder, snaking your fingers into your shorts and pulling them down.
“Fuck-” Mark groans, eyes taking in your body.
You can see a half chub pressing against the denim of his blue jeans, and your pussy throbs again. “Come on, puppy boy,” you tease. 
He’s quick to catch you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing his chest to your back. His lips find your neck and you giggle, moving toward your bed while dragging the line chef with you.
“You’re so pretty,” Mark groans, tracing your curves with one hand while the other reaches to grab your breast.
Turning in his arms, you press your lips to his, enjoying the way each kiss gets deeper. He’s relaxing against you, his tongue exploring you more and more. 
When you make it to the bed, he gently prompts you to sit down. You look up at Mark, watching him take in your form. “How did I get this lucky?” he asks.
“You asked me out,” you remind him. “So you did this all yourself, Mark.”
“Did I?” he grins, sinking to the floor.
You’re surprised by the new position, surprised by the way he gently parts your knees, his gaze finding your hot core. 
“Can I take these off?” he questions, gently tugging at your panties.
“Yeah-” you whisper.
Most guys don’t eat you out as an appetizer. In fact, you have to ask most men to go down on you- but here’s Mark, doing it all of his own accord. And he looks so needy- in the best possible way.
Mark slips your panties down your legs, and then his lips find your calf. He begins kissing up your skin, spreading your thighs to accommodate him. 
“You don’t have to-” Your words are lost when he presses a kiss to your clit.
“Don’t have to what?” Mark asks, looking up at you.
“Don’t have to eat me out-”
“I want to eat you out,” he confirms. “I’ll eat you out for as long as you want me to- but, when you need more, just say something, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“Really?”
“Uh huh,” Mark hums, immediately pressing his mouth against your core again. He licks a wet stripe of your pussy, and it makes your legs twitch on his shoulders.
You relax against the mattress, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of Mark pleasuring you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him where you need him. He focuses on your clit, circling it and toying with it.
It feels amazing- it does, but there’s some sort of mental block in your brain. You wish you could just cum from this, but the more you think about that, the more you distract yourself from Mark. God, you almost feel bad making him eat you out like this- he’s not getting anything-
The overthinking is something you’re used to, and try as you might to talk yourself down from the ledge of sexual issues, you can’t relax. You can’t focus on Mark, and it frustrates you to no end.
Finally, after what feels like hours of him eating you out - although it must only be a few minutes - you gently tug his hair. “Want your cock now,” you tell him.
“Yeah?” Mark wipes his hand across his mouth, looking up at you with pupils blown from lust.
“Please,” you nod. 
“Should I uh- should I grab a condom?”
You’re quick to shake your head. “We’re both clean right?”
“Yeah-”
“I have an IUD, remember? I want you to cum inside of me.”
Mark draws in a shaky breath. You watch him swallow thickly, then he stands up, undoing his blue jeans. When he pushes down his pants, he moves his underwear too, and just like that, your favourite line chef is standing naked in front of you.
He’s got a pretty cock. It’s girthy, cut, and must be around seven or so inches. The tip is curved slightly to his left, and it’s leaking precum even though you’ve hardly touched him.
Did Mark really get that turned on just from eating you out?
“Come here,” you offer him a small smile, shifting up your bed until your head reaches the pillows. You open your arms for Mark, watching him press a knee onto the mattress and approach you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you drag him into a kiss.
The kiss is passionate, but there’s a tentative energy to it as Mark’s cock presses between your pussy lips, collecting the juice and saliva that’s congregated there. 
“Are you sure about this?” Mark asks, panting against your mouth. 
You open your eyes to look up at him, nodding.
“I uh… I need to hear you say yes.”
“Yes, Mark, I’m sure about this,” you say, trailing your fingers through his hair. “Please, I want you.”
He searches your eyes, then, with a final nod, he kisses you again. One of his hands slides between your bodies, and you feel him line his cock up with your core. Your legs tighten around his hips, and it’s something like a united effort when his length sinks into your pussy.
You both groan against each other’s lips. The kissing stops, but you remain close enough that your noses are touching. His breath is hot against your skin, and he begins to fuck you slowly, his cock filling you perfectly.
“You feel so good,” Mark groans. 
All you can do is moan in response, drawing his lips back to yours while he fucks you.
You get lost in the feeling of him, and the kissing does aid in calming down your tumultuous thoughts. You can focus on the pleasure that thrums through you with each thrust, the way his cock glides against your inner walls and stretches you out.
Mark grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers and pressing you against the bed, his hips working faster. His tongue is eager against your own, and he eats up your soft whimpers. His groans and grunts of effort make your soul sing, your heart beating quickly in your breast.
“Shit,” Mark pulls away from the kiss, looking down at you. “It’s been a minute since I’ve- since I’ve slept with anyone,” he admits. “I’m uh… pretty close.”
“Want you to cum,” you tell him.
“Yeah?”
“Please- want you to fill me up-”
Mark groans, pressing his lips against your own. You kiss him desperately, tightening your legs around his hips. He squeezes your hand, his groans muffled by your mouth.
His hips work faster and faster- then, all at once, he kind of just stops. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and his grip on your hand is tight as he coats your insides with his cum.
You hold him through his high, your free hand petting his hair while he brings his lips to your neck, panting desperately and kissing your skin. 
He lets out a sigh of relief as he finishes. Mark pulls away from your throat, looking down at you. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but it’s clear that he’s not able to find the right words. “I, uh…” he licks his lips. “Should I grab you a tissue or something?”
“Yes, please,” you laugh, letting go of him so he can get off the bed. You watch him look around your room, finding your tissues on the nightstand. 
His legs are as covered in patchwork tattoos as the rest of him, and you’re pleased that the tour will continue another day. He hands you the tissue. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”
“You can go for it, I just need a second,” you tell him.
Mark nods, pressing one last kiss to your lips before he leaves your bedroom.
You lay there in bed, holding the tissue between your legs to capture any of the cum beginning to leak out of you. 
You’re glad Mark got to cum. You’re not surprised you hadn’t. You just hope maybe one day you will get there, and for some reason, you have a hunch Mark will be the one to achieve an orgasm for you. Or at least, you hope he will. 
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Nine
“So did you do it?” 
“Hmm?” Mark looks up from the chicken he’s cutting.
“You had your second date with Sunshine last night, right?” Hyuck presses. “So…. did you do it? Did you make her cum, or what?”
“Why are you so obsessed with this?” Mark sighs, looking at the other side of the kitchen where John is working. “We shouldn’t be talking about this here.”
“Nah, this is the perfect place to talk about it,” Hyuck leans against the work station, his back to the head chef. “So I’m guessing you didn’t make her cum.”
“Is that all you were thinking about every time you fucked her?” Mark asks.
“Duh.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe that’s the kind of mentality that would make a girl overthink the situation?” Mark shakes his head. “I bet you would watch her super intently and then just ask her to cum.”
“That’s a move, Mark, it’s called having rizz.”
“But it never worked, so was it really rizz, or were you just fucking yourself over?”
Hyuck narrows his eyes. “So now you’re the expert on making girls cum?”
Over Hyuck’s shoulder, John stops what he’s doing and turns to stare at the line chefs. Mark can feel his skin heating, and he opens his mouth to rectify the situation, but Hyuck’s already speaking again. 
“I bet you a hundred bucks you won’t be able to make her cum.”
“Fuck you, I’m not betting money on this shit,” Mark hisses. 
“Sounds like something a pussy would say.”
“A pussy with a knife in his hand,” the line chef notes, his grip tightening on the handle. “Look, when I do make her cum, you have to stop bashing her like it’s her fault that you wouldn’t take the time to make her comfortable.” 
“And when you don’t make her cum?”
“It’s not going to happen.” Mark’s not sure where his confidence is coming from, but something in his heart tells him to be firm about this. He’s going to get you there. It might take a few weeks, hell, it might take over a month- but he’s going to get you to the point where you relax enough to cum for him, or so help him God-
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Ten
Mark had cum inside of you three times since arriving at seven, and at two am he had finally broached the idea of heading home. “I should probably go,” the line chef had sighed, holding you closer to his chest.
“I mean… you could always just stay over?” you’d suggested.
“Yeah?”
“It’s our third date, why not?” you’d shrugged, cuddling tighter against him. 
You hadn’t planned this, it had just sort of happened, and that’s how Mark had ended up sleeping at your place for the first time. 
He’d woken up half way through the night, voice raspy, hands grabby, moaning about how lucky he was to be here with you. Falling asleep again after he’d railed you had been as easy as breathing, and now, in the morning hours, you’re in the shower to wash off all the cum he’d left on and inside of you. 
Neither of you have to be at work till the afternoon, and you kind of like the idea of lazing around with Mark, who’s still passed out in your bed. 
You take your time with your skin care and hair, and when you finally enter your room, you’re intrigued to find the line chef still asleep. He’s quite handsome like this, all bundled up in your white duvet, blonde hair shining around him like a halo.
You try to be careful as you crawl onto the mattress next to him, but Mark immediately rolls over to pull you tight to his chest. He lets out a soft groan, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
God, why are things so domestic with this boy already?
His hands trail up and down your back, fingers stroking your skin. You’d put on his shirt, but other than that, you’re naked, and it doesn’t take long for Mark to realize that fact. His touch moves down to your hip, sliding under the shirt. His thumb draws circles against your bare skin, and he lets out another moan. 
“Morning, puppy boy,” you laugh.
“Hungry,” Mark whispers. 
“Hmm?”
“I said,” he leans down, pressing kisses to your throat, his lips brushing by your ear when he repeats himself; “Hungry.”
“I can make you breakfast,” you assure him.
“Don’t want food,” Mark says. “Want you.”
In one quick motion he pushes you onto your back, getting on top of you. His breath is hot against your neck, and he tugs on your shirt, pulling it up to reveal your breasts. His mouth wraps around your nipple, and he sucks on it gently, releasing sounds of pleasure. 
You thread your fingers through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief. “Feels good,” you tell him.
One of his hands slips between your legs, his digits teasing your slit. “Always so wet for me,” he groans, releasing your nipple with a pop. “Can I taste?”
Mark is definitely getting more bold with you, but that’s what happens when you’ve fucked a handful of times, had three dates, and one sleep over. 
“You can do anything you want to me,” you tell him.
The line chef kisses down your abdomen, pushing your legs open as he settles between them. You thread your fingers through his hair as he brings his mouth to your core, licking at your pussy lips. 
Mark is really good at oral. This is the fourth time he’s eaten you out. With each time he presses his mouth to your pussy, part of you gets more and more convinced that you’ll cum this way. When he adds two fingers into your aching core, you’re pretty much sure that it will happen-
It feels so good, and the moans that escape you reflect that. Your hips buck toward his face, prompting Mark to press a palm to your lower abdomen, keeping you pinned.
But every time you think you’re close - every time you’re about to announce it to him - the feeling dissipates. 
You can feel yourself getting more and more irritated with your body, and soon, you give up entirely. “Mark?”
“Hmm?” The vibrations against your clit have your thighs shaking.
“Can I just- can we just fuck? Please? I want you inside of me.”
Mark pulls away from your pussy, his fingers continuing in your hole. “Are you sure? You know I enjoy playing with you like this.”
“I know- but, I just- I’m in my head again. Want your cock in my pussy.”
Mark takes his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips to lick clean. Then he crawls up your body, kissing you so you can taste yourself on his tongue. 
“I’ll fuck you,” he says, “but don’t ever think I don’t enjoy being between your thighs like that, okay? You don’t have to cum, I know from the sounds that you make that you enjoy it, and that’s enough for me until you get there, yeah?”
You swallow thickly, nodding. “I’m still in my head.”
“I get that, Sunshine,” he kisses you gently, cupping your cheek as he lines his cock up with your wet hole. “If there’s anything I can do to stop the overthinking-”
“Just fuck me,” you insist, wrapping your legs around his hips.
Mark laughs. “You got it.”
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Eleven
“Dude, is that a hickey on your neck?” Hyuck’s annoying voice makes Mark flinch, and his hand immediately flies to slap against the side of his throat.
“What? No.” 
“It totally is,” Hyuck laughs. “Damn, you two must really be going at it a lot.”
“We’re having fun.”
“Fun like two times? Three?”
“Fun like five times in the past twenty four hours.”
“Jesus Christ.” Hyuck’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “Are you serious?”
“I don’t know what you were talking about with her not being able to sleep next to you. She passed out just fine with me last night.”
Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Fucking Hell. Maybe I underestimated you. So… did she cum?” 
Mark sighs. He hates to be talking about this while at work. You’re running food, but you could be back at any second, and Mark doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea about all of this. Hyuck is the instigator of these sexual talks, and Mark doesn’t know how much to keep to himself.
“So that’s a no,” Hyuck deduces. “Big ouch.”
“I feel like we shouldn’t talk about this anymore,” Mark says finally.
“Why? Is your pride hurt?” 
Mark lets out another annoyed breath. “I just think it’s disrespectful. You’re an ex fling of hers, you don’t deserve to know everything about her personal life.”
“I don't want to know about her personal life,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “I want to know about her sex life, there’s a difference.” 
“I’m done talking to you about this,” Mark insists.
“Damn, someone is starting to sound like a protective boyfriend. Jeeze, calm down.”
Mark hates that there’s some truth in what Hyuck is saying. He already feels quite protective of you. He’s got dates planned, things that can make you smile. He pays close attention to you when you speak, looking for your likes and dislikes. 
Mark is falling for you faster than he’d ever care to admit, especially not to Hyuck of all people. 
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Twelve
“Who does a staff Christmas party in January?” Jungwoo asks as a bunch of you take the big table after the restaurant has closed.
“We were all too busy at Chirstmas time, remember?” Jaehyun says, looking at his waiter friend. “And then there was New Years, and we closed early.”
“I agree with you Woo, a mid January Christmas party feels weird,” you grin, leaning against your favourite server. 
In all honesty, it feels like your managers Taeil and Doyoung just wanted to give you all some time to relax and celebrate. January can be a slow month in the restaurant business, and you’d heard Jeno mention yesterday that there are four or five bottles of wine that no one has been ordering that have to be used up. 
As you begin to drink the wine, the mid January Christmas party makes more and more sense. The chefs have finished their closing tasks, with John joining you first, followed by Hyuck, and finally Mark.
With Jaehyun across from you, Jungwoo on one side, and John on the other, you’re surrounded. Mark sits at the other end of the table, offering you a small smile. You give him a gentle wave in response, giggling to yourself over the rim of your wine glass.
“Gosh, Sunshine,” Jungwoo slides closer to you. “Are you drunk already?”
“You’ve been refilling my glass,” you point out, pouting a little.
“Because you’re a cute drunk,” he grins. 
“A very cute drunk,” Jaehyun agrees, eyeing you from across the table. 
The thing about dating a coworker and it being new means you can’t talk about it. Until there’s a label with you and Mark, you’re keeping your lips shut. As far as Jungwoo or Jaehyun know, you’re single, and the latter of the two has been hitting on you for months.
It feels odd to have Jaehyun calling you cute while Mark is just a few seats down. Your stomach twists into drunken knots, and you wish you could move to be closer to your new secret Boo-
In the periphery of your vision, you note Mark stand up and begin to head to the bar. It feels like the perfect excuse to get some time alone with him, so you hop off of your chair. 
Mark’s grabbed a glass and is beginning to pour himself a beer from the tap by the time you reach him. “Hi, puppy boy,” you grin.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he laughs, looking you up and down. “Jungwoo’s been feeding you the wine, huh?”
“Just like… a normal amount.” God, you can’t help but smile constantly at the boy who has your heart twisting into love sick knots. 
“Are you tipsy?” Mark cocks his head to the side as he finishes pouring his drink.
“Maybe…”
“Can I get you some water?” he suggests.
You lean forward over the bar top, lowering your voice so only Mark can hear you. “I’m thirsty, but not for water or wine.”
It takes Mark a moment to read the innuendo of your words, but then he laughs. “I should get you some water.”
“What if I don’t drink it?”
“What if I ask you to please drink it?” he counters, already filling a cup for you. 
“Okay, fine. Just for you, though.” 
Mark grins as he hands you the glass.
“Why do you take care of me so much?” you ask, as the two of you head back to the table.
“Because,” Mark pulls your chair out for you, “you’re my favourite expo girl.”
“I better be,” you say, teasingly narrowing your eyes at Mark before he walks back to his own seat down the long table.
You begin to nurse your water. Mark’s right about you needing it. The tipsyness has somehow intensified- probably because Jungwoo had insisted you finish your wine glass. You feel blurry as you sit there and listen to your coworkers chat.
“I just don’t like saying chicken breast,” Jungwoo states.
“But that’s what they are!” Yuta, one of the night line chefs, insists. “They’re breasts!”
“I just tell customers that the alfredo comes with chicken, they don’t need to hear me say breast!” Jungwoo fights back. “Jaehyun agrees with me, right Jae?”
“Yeah, I just say chicken,” the man across from you nods.
“Taeyong also just says chicken,” Jungwoo continues. “So right now it’s three to one.”
“Hyuck,” Yuta calls across the table, gaining the attention of the men at the other end. “Do you call it chicken breast, or just chicken?”
“Neither,” Hyuck says confidently. “Thems some chicken boobies.”
You can’t believe the conversation you’re hearing. “I think it’s time for me to leave,” you decide. 
“What? Why?” Jungwoo whines.
“I can’t be here for a discussion about chicken.”
Jungwoo slams his hand on the table. “See, she said just chicken too!” 
Yuta points his finger at you like you’re on a game show. “Is that your final answer?” 
You lean forward, pretending his hand is a microphone. “Chicken titties.”
“Yeah, we’re cutting you off,” Jungwoo decides. “You need to go home and sleep.”
“Someone should make sure you get back to your place okay,” Jaehyun notes, standing from his chair.
“I’ll take care of her,” comes Mark’s voice from the other end of the table.
Jaehyun turns to stare at the line chef, who also stands up. 
John is next to you, and you watch a knowing expression appear on his features, grinning as he sips his beer. 
“You still have half your drink left,” Jaehyun insists, “And, I’ve known our little miss Sunshine for much longer than you have. I’m sure she’s probably more comfortable with me taking her home.”
A muscle in Mark’s jaw feathers. You watch him reach down and grab his beer, downing the whole thing in three large gulps before wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.
Fuck, the motion reminds you of what he does whenever he eats you out, and you feel almost dizzy thinking about it.
“Who’s it gonna be, Sunshine?” Hyuck grins. “Jaehyun, or Marky boy?”
“Let’s go, Mark,” you say, offering Jaehyun a small smile. “We’ll see all you guys tomorrow.”
Jaehyun looks pretty defeated, but you can’t even bring yourself to care as Mark comes around the table to offer you his arm. At first, you think you don’t his help, but when you stumble after one step, you latch onto his bicep.
“I was hoping you’d go home with me tonight,” you whisper as the two of you exit to the parking lot, where Mark’s truck is waiting. He helps you climb inside, smiling and shaking his head.
“Sunshine, if you ever want me to go home with you, you don’t have to get drunk, just ask.”
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Thirteen
“I’m really not that drunk,” you insist, making your way over to the liquor cabinet again.
Mark sighs. You’re a grown adult, he can’t keep directing you away from the booze. “Okay, I believe you. What do you want? Let me make it for you.”
“I want…” you think about it for a moment. “An espresso martini.”
“It’s late, won’t the espresso make it hard for you to sleep?” You’re definitely drunk and you both know it.
“I don’t care. Want espresso martini.”
“Okay, Sunshine, you got it.” Mark moves through your kitchen, finding the espresso machine there. He slips a pod into the device, setting up a cup. 
“Can you add honey?” you ask, already moving to the cabinet to grab a bottle. Mark takes it from you, squeezing some of the honey into the bottom of the cup as hot coffee begins to pour over it. “I also want Baileys.”
Mark laughs a little, shaking his head as you stumble to grab the large Irish Cream bottle from your cupboard.
“And also ice,” you declare. “Frothed.”
“This is a whole thing, huh?” Mark watches you fill the frother with Baileys. 
“I like what I like,” you insist. “We’re gonna triple froth this.”
“You’re the boss.” Mark reaches into his pocket, pulling out his vape. You’ve been letting him smoke in here, and he appreciates the reprieve as the two of you make this very complicated espresso martini. 
By the time you’re done with it, Mark’s not even sure you could call it an espresso martini. With the amount of frothed foam on top, this drink is something else entirely. 
He watches you lift the cup to your lips, immediately getting foam on your face. You simply giggle and wipe it off, licking your finger clean. Then you dip your digit into the froth, scooping it up and popping it in your mouth.
Mark swallows thickly while watching you do this.
“Puppy,” you groan, “this is so good.” You offer him your finger. “Try it.”
Mark can’t say no to you, so he allows you to dip your finger into his mouth. He licks you clean, watching the way your breath catches. You bite on your bottom lip, swaying a little on your feet.
“Your turn,” you say quietly, holding out the cup.
“My turn?”
“I wanna suck on your fingers.”
Mark knows you're drunk. He knows this probably isn’t the best idea for either of you, but he simply can’t say no to you. Not now, not ever. 
He dips his pointer into the foam, then presents it to you. 
You grab his wrist, keeping him still while you move forward to suck on his finger, releasing a small groan. Mark can already feel the blood rushing to his cock, but he ignores it as he goes for another scoop of froth. 
“Tastes better on you,” you tell him, licking his digit clean again. “More. Please.” 
The way you look at him each time you suck his finger tells Mark that you’re as horny as he is. When he scoops with two digits, you practically mewl as you lick.
“I wanna suck on something bigger,” you state.
“Sunshine,” Mark sighs, “I really don’t want to take advantage-” 
“You’re not. Mark, you’ve eaten me out so many times, please let me return the favour?” You’re already sinking to your knees on the kitchen floor, and the sight of you makes Mark’s cock throb in his jeans. “Please, I just wanna suck you off.”
“You know I can never say no to you.”
As the words leave him your hands find his belt. In moments, you’re pushing his pants down, your grip wrapping around the base of his cock. He watches you lick your lips, your gaze meeting his as you lean forward to take him into your mouth.
Mark immediately lets out a groan. “You feel so good, sunshine.”
You whimper around his length, and the vibration has Mark’s fingers twitching. He reaches for your head, cupping your face while you suck him off. His other hand places your drink on the kitchen counter before falling to his side. The line chef’s head falls back, his eyes closing as he eats up the feeling of you.
“That’s it,” he sighs, loving the way you twirl your tongue around his shaft.
You take as much of him past your lips as possible, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag around him, causing Mark’s eyes to fly open. He looks down at you with concern, but you keep sucking him.
“You don’t have to deep throat me,” Mark assures you, pushing some hair away from your face.
You let out a whine, sinking onto him again, only for your throat to constrict tight around his tip. 
Mark groans. “Fuck, Sunshine, I’m serious.”
The line chef could never do what you’re doing right now. Not because he’s not into cock, but because he has the worst gag reflex ever. He knows what it’s like to choke, and he doesn’t want you sputtering on his cock in the name of pleasuring him. 
When you try to deep throat him a third time, Mark simply pulls you off of him. He’s struck by the view of a string of saliva keeping you connected to his cock, and the way you look up at him in a confused daze has his heart thundering in his chest.
“Enough of that,” Mark says softly. “Let me take care of you.”
He reaches down, gently taking your hands so he can help you to your feet. 
“Bedroom?” he suggests.
You nod, swallowing thickly and wiping at your mouth, then you dart off. You’re awfully agile for a drunk girl, and Mark smiles to himself before following you. By the time he’s made it to the bedroom, you’ve already stripped.
You’re sitting on the bed, grinning at him with a hint of mischief in your eye.
“Take advantage of me, Mark,” you say as he pulls off his shirt.
“Jesus,” Mark whispers. “I hate to say it, but that line is not enticing at all.”
He’s still kind of questioning if this is a good idea, but at the same time, you’ve already fucked on multiple occasions. He knows you want him sober, and especially - it appears - while drunk. 
“Come on, please?” You pout out your lower lip.
Mark slips out of his jeans, joining you on the bed. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss while your legs encircle his hips.
As his cock slips past your core, Mark is shocked at how wet you already are. Booze has really done a number on you, but neither of you are complaining.
“You sure you want this?” he asks.
“Don’t make me beg,” you laugh, “Cuz I will.”
“No, it’s okay,” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “Just checking.”
Before he can reach for his cock, you beat him to it, grabbing the base and lining his tip up with your entrance. “Fuck me, Mark, I’m begging for it.”
He presses his lips hard against your own as he pushes into your wet hole, both of you groaning loudly at the feeling. 
“Shit,” you whimper, breaking the kiss to look up at him, “I’m so sensitive today-”
“Alcohol does that sometimes,” Mark notes, bringing up a hand to cup your breast. When his fingers pinch your nipple, you let out a high pitched squeal, pushing your chest up toward his palm. 
“Fuck, Mark-” Your pussy clenches tight around him, and the feeling makes Mark dizzy. 
“You sound so good, Sunshine, and you’re gripping me so fucking hard-” Mark begins to fuck into you. Your nails claw at his arms, your head thrown back, eyes closed.
Mark reaches down to rub your clit. You shudder below him, legs tightening around his hips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moan loudly. “Just like that-”
He applies more pressure to your sensitive bud, making your hips buck toward him, your core clenching him in a death grip. 
“If you keep squeezing me like this, I’m not going to last long-” he warns you, tension building in the base of his cock.
“I want you to cum,” you insist, opening your eyes to look at him.
“Don’t you want to try and get there too?” he asks. 
“I don’t-” you swallow thickly, “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”
“Let me fuck you a little longer, yeah?” Mark prompts. “I can wait a bit. Actually, we should switch positions.”
“To what?”
“Can you get on your knees for me?” he asks.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly. As soon as Mark pulls away, you’re flipping over, pushing your ass into the air for him.
“Fuck, what a view,” he breathes, hands smoothing across your bum. 
You whimper, and the sound encourages Mark to slip himself into you again. The sigh of relief that leaves you has Mark’s skin tingling, his grip finding your hips. 
“It’s so deep,” you groan, tangling your fingers in the sheets.
You’re right about that- your wet pussy is taking every inch Mark has, and each smack of his hips against your ass has you getting even wetter. He’s pretty sure you’re dripping down your thighs at this point, and his fingers dig into your skin even harder.
The sounds you’re making are like music to his ears. Your grip on his cock is insane. Mark’s pretty sure tonight is going to be the night that you cum- but as he continues fucking you, it becomes more and more clear that only one of you is going to get there- and fast. 
“Fuck,” Mark grunts, his heart racing in his chest as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. 
“Cum in me,” you insist, reaching behind yourself.
Mark grabs your hand, lacing your fingers and holding you against the small of your back.
“You really want me to cum?” he asks, breathless.
“Please,” you nod, squeezing his hand. “Wanna be full.”
Again, Mark can’t say no to you.
“Okay, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he whispers, fucking you even harder. “Shit-” 
His orgasm hits straight on, tingling through his entire body like an electric jolt. He pushes his cock into you as deep as it can go, feeling it throb as he coats your walls in cum. Mark throws his head back, eyes closed, overcome by the pleasure that courses through him.
He’s not the type that can fuck someone through his high. When he cums, he has to stop, has to experience the feeling in full. His mind goes completely blank…
But his first thought when the words come back is that he should tell you he loves you.
Fuck. This is becoming a problem. 
Every time he cums deep inside of you, his feelings grow. He’s overwhelmed with this sense that you’re meant to be, that he should just lock you down and let you know how much you mean to him.
But as always, that logical side rears its head, reminding Mark that it’s only been a few weeks of seeing each other. He needs to take things slow- for your sake. He doesn’t want to scare you away. Being a safe space for you includes watching his tongue, it means not putting pressure on you like this- 
If there’s one thing that will pressure you, it’s the admittance that he’s kind of in love with you.
Instead of saying what’s on the tip of his tongue, Mark pulls out of you. He gets you a tissue for the cum that begins to drip out of your pussy, and a cup of water to make sure you’re hydrated. Once you’ve both cleaned up in the bathroom, he cuddles you close to his chest, stroking your back and listening to you breathe.
To Mark’s complete shock, you fall asleep on him within minutes. 
It’s a sign that you’re truly feeling safe with him, and Mark thinks he must be going in the right direction. He’s careful not to wake you up, he simply enjoys the feeling of holding you close while you rest.
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Fourteen
You wake up slowly, cuddling closer to the warmth next to you. It takes you a moment to realize that the heat is coming from Mark, and you open your eyes to stare at him.
“Morning,” Mark grins, putting down his phone to watch you. “Sleep well?”
“Shockingly well,” you grin, snuggling closer. “You?”
“I like sleeping next to you,” Mark muses, wrapping his arms around you. “You know, I was thinking I could make you breakfast or something. Neither of us have work today.”
“Breakfast?” You perk up.
“Yeah, I can cook most breakfast or brunch foods, but uh… don’t ask me to make eggs.”
“Eggs?” You raise your brows, looking at him with a laugh.
“I know, it’s stupid cuz I’m literally a line chef, but I never went to school for it, remember?” Mark grins, stroking your skin. “John tried to teach me during brunch last week but I just- don’t have the patience for eggs.”
“Poor John, hired a chef who can’t cook eggs,” you tease. “Are you sure you don’t want something else for breakfast?”
“Like what?”
“Like… me?” 
Mark laughs. “As much as I’d love to fuck you today, I feel like- maybe it would be nice to not sleep together this morning... You know this isn’t just sex for me, right?”
“Yeah, but… sex is nice, isn’t it?”
Mark strokes your cheek, meeting your eyes. “Sex with you is always nice, but I think I kind of want to be domestic with you today instead, if that’s okay.”
Your heart clenches in your chest at his words. You can’t help but lean forward and kiss him gently. “That’s okay with me.”
“Good,” Mark grins. “Let's cuddle some more, and when you get hungry, I’ll take care of the food.”
As you slowly wake up next to Mark, you’re struck by how comfortable you are. Being with him like this feels natural. There’s no pressure to fuck, no need to suck dick in order to earn affection- Mark simply cares about you, and it’s clear in the way he holds you.
If you’re not careful, you could get used to this.
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Fifteen
Since the ‘Christmas’ party, Mark’s been wanting to broach the subject of Jaehyun with you, but in the handful of times he’s slept over with you since then, it’s just never come up.
Today, watching Jaehyun talk with you by the bar, the question is fresh on Mark’s mind, and he only has one person he can justifiably ask about it.
“So… how close are Jae and y/n?”
“Hmm?” Hyuck looks up from the burger he’s stacking. “Oh, those two? Pretty close.”
Mark groans at the lack of detail. “Did they ever date?”
“I think she’s definitely his work crush. Pretty sure he’s asked her out a few times, but I don’t know if she realized it was a date sort of thing.” Hyuck laughs to himself. “I actually walked in on him asking her out around Halloween, but I think she thought it was a group idea. She rejected him though.”
“Looks like he hasn’t taken the hint,” Mark says, mouth forming a firm line.
“Nah, Jae has a pretty big ego. I mean, you’ve seen his face. He’s not used to rejection, it doesn’t compute for him.”
Mark doesn’t say anything, he simply goes back to the alfredo he’s cooking. But it becomes clear that Hyuck doesn’t want to let this go.
“You’re jealous, aren’t you, Marky boy?”
“No.”
“Yes, you totally are,” Hyuck grins. “How long have you and Sunshine been seeing each other now?”
“Like… three weeks? A month almost?”
“Have you talked about being exclusive or anything?”
“Not really.”
Hyuck rolls his eyes. “It’s a yes or a no, Mark. There’s no ‘not really,’ when it comes to ‘the talk.’”
“No, we haven’t talked about it,” Mark admits with a sigh.
“Sounds like something you want though, right?” Hyuck presses.
“I thought I said I wasn’t going to talk to you about this anymore.”
“You’re the one who brought up Jae,” Hyuck points out, raising his hands in mock defense. 
Mark supposes Hyuck is right about that. He’s been considering defining the relationship recently- thinking about how a label could offer you safety, stability, things that are needed to help you relax. 
But now, the label transcends the use for comfortability and cumming, it almost feels needed.
You’re hot. Mark knows that. He sees the way people hit on you every day while you’re working. At first, he’d been okay with it- but now, he thinks maybe he needs something more. Maybe he needs the comfort of knowing that you’re taken, by him. 
He’s not the type to feel insecure, and he’s not even sure that insecurity is the right word for what he’s feeling.
All Mark knows, is that he wants to get to the next level with you, and he’s going to pull up his big boy pants to finally do it.
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Sixteen
You’ve been at home for a few hours, having been cut from work early since it was a slow day, and you’re a little surprised when Mark calls you around dinner time.
“Hey you,” you grin, collapsing onto your bed to give Mark your full focus.
“Whatcha doin?” he asks.
“Just sitting here, was thinking of watching a movie. How about you? Just got off work?”
“Yeah, in a minute, just taking a vape break first. I was thinking maybe you’d let me see you when I’m off?”
“Definitely, you know my door is always open for you. But I should warn you, I have literally nothing in my fridge.”
“That’s okay, I’ll make your favourite and bring takeout,” Mark assures you. “See you in like… half an hour?”
That’s how Mark shows up on your home a short while later. You look him up and down, taking in his work outfit. “Didn’t wanna change after shift?” you grin, holding your door open for him.
“I uh, wanted to see you. Need a shower, so I figured I’d put on my fresh clothes after that.”
“Sounds good, you know that my home is your home. Go shower, I’ll put our food in bowls.” You accept the takeout from Mark, intent on turning to head to the kitchen- only for him to pull you back into an embrace.
“Hi,” he mumbles, kissing the side of your head and nuzzling against your hair.
“Hi,” you grin, turning in his arms to press your lips to his. “Go shower.”
“You got it.”
Mark goes into your bathroom, and a moment later you hear the water begin to run. You take your time in the kitchen. Mark has made himself alfredo, and he’s cooked your favourite rice bowl for you. You smile to yourself while plating the food, loving how domestic things have gotten with Mark.
Part of you is tempted to join Mark in the shower, but you’re not sure if you’re there yet, so you wait patiently for him to finish. This isn’t the first time he’s showered at your place, and you trust he’ll see his designated towel hanging on the hook behind your door. 
You kind of enjoy that he’s gotten so comfortable at your home. You’ve been spending so much time with him here and at work that it feels kind of odd when he’s not around. 
Soon, Mark is coming out of the bathroom. He’s in sweatpants and a tank top that shows off his tattoos. You have to actively stop yourself from drooling as you move to sit at the dinner table.
“So… did you need to talk to me about something?”
“Hmm?” Mark sits across from you.
“We didn’t have plans, you called and wanted to come over, I guess I’m just wondering if you had a specific reason.”
“Can’t I just miss you?” he grins.
Despite his words, it’s clear that there’s more to it, however you drop the issue. When Mark is ready to be real with you, he will be. You have time until then.
Mark begins to talk about work, how it had gotten busy after you’d left. You listen, happy to chat with him while you eat. 
After food, the two of you move to the couch, cuddling up while Netflix starts.
You’re two seasons into your anime already, it’s funny how time flies. You can turn your brain off when Mark spoons you, his lips pressing soft kisses to your shoulder every now and again.
One episode in, Mark reaches over you for the remote, pausing your show. 
“I guess there is a reason I wanted to come over,” he admits finally.
“Yeah?” You turn onto your back, looking up at him. 
“I hate to say that I’ve been jealous, but uh… since the Christmas party, I’ve been a little jealous about you and Jaehyun.” Mark won’t meet your eyes, and you give him the space to continue. “I just… people are always hitting on you, and I don’t know, I think… I mean, I’m a serial monogamist according to Hyuck, and I know we haven’t been seeing each other for that long, but I only see you, in all ways, and I just… I don’t want to lock you down if you’re not looking for something serious, but I guess I wanted to know how you feel about exclusivity and that sort of thing.”
“With you? Mark… I’d love to be exclusive.” You let out a small laugh. “Don’t you realize that I have to watch girls flirt with you too? Maybe we’ve both been jealous.  I think… locking each other down would be good for us.”
“Yeah?” Mark’s beaming now.
“You’re special,” you confess. “I’ve never been able to sleep next to a guy I’ve slept with, which feels like such a contradiction- but sleep has always come easy with you. I’ve never felt such a lack of pressure- such acceptance, for all of me, the good and the bad. I like you a lot Mark, and I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”
“It’s not that it wasn’t clear,” Mark assures you, cupping your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. “I just… I know you have that wild side, which is totally valid, I just wasn’t sure you were a settling down type.”
“I wasn’t so sure I was either, and then I met you.”
Mark kisses you instead of responding, but you can feel the emotion in the press of his lips against yours. He’s elated by what you’ve just said, and you’re close to floating to cloud nine too. 
Even so, there’s something else. You can feel it in the slight tension of his shoulders when your fingers brush over his skin.
“Mark?” you break the kiss, blinking at him. “Is there something else on your mind?”
“It’s just… I know I said there’s no pressure, but I really wanna help you cum. And I’ve been thinking maybe… maybe we could use some of your toys.”
“My toys?”
“Like… some girls cum better with a vibrator, and if you have one, I’d love to use it on you.”
“Really?” You’re shocked. Lots of men think their dick is good enough, they feel emasculated to bring sex toys into the mix- but here’s Mark, being as contrarian as ever. 
“Even if it doesn’t help you cum, I still think it would be fun. I’m not trying to pressure you-”
“We can use my vibrator,” you assure him, heart thundering in your rib cage at the mere thought of it. 
No man has ever used a sex toy on you- it’s probably one of the reasons you’ve never cum with a lover before.
“Come on,” you sit up, heading to your bedroom while Mark follows. “I keep my toys in the closet,” you explain, bending down to find the shoe box that stores your vibrator. You pull the device out, showing it to Mark. “Is this going to work?”
“Yeah, it will work.” Mark watches you stand up, and he holds out his hand for you to pass the toy to him. “I’m uh… I’m gonna put this down so I can get you naked.”
“Okay,” you grin.
He sets the vibrator on your bed gently, turning to you. Mark grabs your face first, pulling you in for a kiss. He’s gentler than you thought he would be, but you don’t mind it. You like getting lost in the feeling of Mark, allowing him to guide you toward the bed.
When you reach your mattress, his hands slip down to the hem of your shirt. He carefully removes it, and you lift your arms to help him with the task. Mark doesn’t immediately go for your pants next, he kisses you again instead, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other grabs the small of your back.
His touch is so gentle, smoothing across your skin. It’s making you even more eager, and you find yourself removing his shirt before he begins to work on your sleep shorts. Soon, you’re just in a bra and panties, but even those get taken off. 
When you’re completely bare, Mark gently pushes you down onto your bed, eyes taking in your body.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” he muses.
Your skin heats at the praise, and you begin to close your thighs, only for Mark to gently prompt them open. 
“Don’t hide from me, please,” Mark says softly, getting onto his knees at the foot of your bed. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your clit before he pushes his tongue into your wet hole.
You breathe a sigh of relief, threading your fingers through his hair. You adjust your thighs on his shoulders, trailing your toes against his well-defined back. 
He eats you out for a little while, groaning as he goes. It’s clear to you now that Mark enjoys getting his fill of you, and it makes the experience ten times more enjoyable for you. You’ve been getting better at slowing your mind while Mark licks at your clit, better at focusing on him and not all the worrying thoughts that generally buzz around you.
You feel the bed shift, and you open your eyes to see Mark has reached for the vibrator. He turns it on, assessing the way the toy shakes on the lowest setting. “Do you wanna show me where to use this, sunshine?” he asks, holding it out to you.
With a deep breath, you nod, accepting the toy and bringing it to your clit. “I like… a good amount of pressure,” you tell him, showing him exactly where you like the vibrator to be held.
It feels kind of odd to be pleasuring yourself like this in front of Mark, but from the way his pupils are blown, eyes fixed completely on your core, you can tell that he’s enjoying the view. It makes you feel more confident, as you begin to drag the vibrator side to side, teasing yourself. 
“This sort of movement is good too,” you tell him.
“Can I take over now?” he asks.
You nod, allowing him to grab the handle of the toy. 
Now that you’re not the one holding it, you can focus completely on the feeling of your clit being vibrated. It feels amazing, your toes curling at the stimulus.
Mark’s free hand is on your inner thigh, smoothing against your skin, but soon, it joins the vibrator. He teases two fingers along your folds before pushing them into you, crooking them up to find the spongey spot that has you crying out.
“You make such pretty sounds,” Mark tells you, applying more pressure to your clit with the vibe. “Fuck, I could watch you like this all night.”
“Puppy-” you whimper, skin tingling at his words.
“You have no idea how good you look,” he continues. “I swear- I want you to cum, but even if you don’t, I’m not going to be able to forget about this. This view is- fuck, it’s the best view in the world. We’re going to be at work and this is all I’ll be thinking about. I won’t be able to get you out of my head.”
With each admittance, each uttered word of praise, you can feel the tension building in the pit of your stomach.
“Can you grind on this a little, sunshine? Grind on my fingers and your toy?”
“Yeah-” you whimper, hips moving as you try to follow with his prompt. 
“That’s it-” Mark groans. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”
His fingers work harder inside of you, and the added pressure makes you squeal. You can’t help the way one of your arms comes up to cover your face, muffling your sounds as your body moves on it’s own accord now. You’re grinding against his hand, grinding against the vibrator that sends tremors of pleasure through your entire form.
“I’m so fucking lucky,” Mark tells you. “So lucky that you’re mine- I could watch you like this for hours and not get bored.”
“Mark-” you groan. Usually, when you acknowledge an orgasm building, it dissipates, like some cruel trick of fate, a complete defiance of the laws of physics- but this time, when you whimper “I’m close” the feeling doesn't fade, it only builds.
“Yeah?” Mark sounds shocked. “All it took was a vibe, huh?”
“And… and your praise-”
“You like when I talk dirty to you, sunshine?” Mark asks. “Like it when I tell you how perfect and pretty you are?”
“Yes-”
“Are you going to be a good girl and cum for me? Or should I finger fuck this cute little pussy even harder?”
“Oh my God-” you whimper. Mark has truly gotten comfortable with you now- he’s not holding back with his sinful words, and they make your stomach pull into a tight knot. “Please, harder-”
Mark presses the vibrator against your clit, turning up the vibration with his thumb while his fingers continue their brutal pace inside your core.
You find yourself gasping, unable to speak as he works you closer and closer-
“Cumming-” you whisper, your orgasm slamming into you like a train. 
Your breath catches, waves of pleasure surging through you. Your fists grip the sheets, your back arches, your thighs quaking around Mark. Whimpers and moans fill the room, your core pulsating around Mark’s fingers while he works you through your high.
“That’s it,” Mark groans. “That’s my good girl.”
“Puppy-” you breathe, the feeling almost becoming too much for you.
“What do you need, sunshine?”
“Your cock,” you blurt out. 
“Yeah?” Mark’s fingers slow inside your pussy. 
“Please, wanna cum on your cock-”
Mark lets out a breath. “Holy fuck.” He turns the vibrator off, taking his digits from your core. Mark licks them clean before he stands up, pushing down his sweatpants. “Move up the bed for me?” he suggests.
You wiggle up to the pillows, watching Mark get onto the mattress. He allows you to lock your legs around his hips, pulling him close while he crashes his lips to yours.
You tangle your fingers in his hair, kissing him deeply. He ruts his hips, allowing you to feel his cock dragging against your core.
Patience is a virtue, but you don’t have any left. You reach between your bodies, grabbing his hard length to line it up with your pussy. 
Mark slides into you, and you let out an immediate sigh of relief. His fingers had been nice, but his cock is even better. It stretches you open, you can feel him deeper than ever. You gasp against his mouth, dragging him closer as he begins to thrust into you. 
“You feel so good, sunshine,” Mark groans, breaking the kiss so he can press his lips to your throat. 
“Puppy-” you whimper, arching your neck so he has better access to find your sweet spot.
Mark captures your hands, lacing your fingers and pressing you into the bed while he fucks you. 
You can feel him everywhere. You’re completely bewitched by Mark Lee. Your core is practically dripping, each thrust made easy by the wet that exudes out of you. 
Then Mark is reaching for your vibrator. He sits up slightly, looking down at you. “Missionary? Or maybe doggy would be better?”
“I wanna see you when I cum again,” you tell him, accepting the vibrator he holds out to you. “Want you to see me cum with your cock in my pussy.”
Mark lets out a low groan, pressing his lips to yours as you turn on the toy, adjusting it onto your clit.
“If you can’t cum, that’s okay-”
“I think I’ll cum,” you assure him. “Just fuck me hard, and I’ll get there.”
“I can do that,” Mark grins, immediately picking up his pace and adding more power to his thrusts.
“And… tell me I’m pretty again?”
“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Mark groans. “I’m so fucking lucky- how did I ever get this lucky?”
“Puppy-”
“You have no idea how into you I am- I love your sounds, love your voice- love the face you make when you feel good- love your smile-”
Each admittance has your heart buzzing in your chest. It’s crazy how easy it is for him to praise you- it almost feels like all these things were built up inside, like he’s a dam that’s just been released, and God, you love the flood.
You press the vibrator harder against your clit, entire body surging with energy. 
“You’re squeezing me so well, baby,” Mark groans, and the sound has your pussy throbbing. “Want you to cum with me so bad, do you think you can cum with me?”
“Yeah, just- kiss me?” you suggest.
Mark presses his lips to yours immediately, cupping your face with one hand. His tongue glides against your own. You eat up each other's sounds, getting completely lost in each other.
In no time at all, another orgasm is building in the pit of your stomach. 
“I’m gonna-” you whimper against his lips.
Mark fucks you even harder in response, and the motion is dizzying. 
“Please, sunshine, cum with me- fuck, I can’t hold it, cum with me-”
His words are your last straw as you explode on his cock. Your core clamps down hard, gasps of extacy escaping you.
To Mark’s credit, he holds off his own high long enough to fuck you through yours, and the moment you begin to be oversitmulated, he cums too. You can feel his cock throbbing in your pussy, his load spilling along your insides and coating your walls.
You kiss him deeply, enjoying his whimpers of pleasure.
You’ve never cum with someone balls deep inside of you before, and there’s a voice in the back of your mind itching for you to tell Mark that you love him- but you bite your tongue. You simply kiss him, holding him close while he finishes.
Finally, Mark lets out a small gasp, pulling away from your lips. His forehead presses against yours, and you’re both breathing heavily.
You’ve never felt this connected to someone in your entire life.
“Are you going to get us tissues?” you ask after a moment, letting out a small laugh.
Mark chuckles, pressing his lips against yours in a chaste kiss. “I just wanna enjoy you a second longer.”
“Puppy, you have literally all the time in the world.”
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☀️ mlist + an. Thank you so much for reading! I really wanted to kick the year off with something more realistic. I wanted to write about a reader who over thinks, who doesn’t cum super easily like we usually see in fanfic. I wanted to touch on the realism of relationships, the use of sex toys, things discussed in the bonus like whiskey dick, domestic showers together and troubles sleeping next to someone new- I really hope you guys liked this even though it’s not as classic fanfic as I usually write :) 
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. “I drank too much,” Mark admits. “Hyuck kept egging me on- I’m pretty sure he wanted to get me blackout so I couldn’t fuck you tonight- But I swear- whisky dick won’t last all night,” Mark tells you. “And, I mean, you know I love using your toys so it doesn’t even matter.” He’s adorable. Of course Hyuck wouldn’t take into account that sometimes Mark is perfectly happy making you cum with your toys and not fucking you at all. Mark truly is a man built for your pleasure, and you’re not surprised that ‘whiskey dick’ hasn’t phased him.
cw/ tw. drunk!Mark, shower shenanigans, fingering, pussy eating, use of toys/g spot stimulator, Mark has ‘whiskey dick’ and can’t get hard at first, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, munch!Mark, creampie/fullness kink, etc…  I petnames. (hers) sunshine. (his) puppy.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 250
🌙 starring. Mark x afab!Reader
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bonus
“Puppy?” You sit up in bed, holding your phone close. Mark’s at some boys night thing, and you really hadn’t expected to hear from him, but here he is, calling you at midnight.
“Hi, Sunshine.” 
“Hi Sunshine!” Someone else screams in the background.
“Oh my god, fuck off, Hyuck!” Mark yells back. “Not you, baby, I’m talking to Hyuck.”
“Yeah,” you laughed, “I gathered that.”
You’ve also gathered that your boyfriend is drunk. You can hear it in his voice, and when he begins to hiccup, it’s even more evident.
“So uh, I wanna see you.”
“You can see me tomorrow, we have dinner plans, right?”
“No, I wanna see you tonight and tomorrow,” Mark insists. 
“You do, huh?” God, he’s adorable.
“Yes, please.”
“Don’t you want to finish boys night?” you prompt, not wanting to get in the way of his time with friends. You know Jeno would get mad about Mark spending time with his ex instead of his boys, and you don’t want to be that girlfriend who restricts her lover from his bros.
“Nah, fuck this,” Mark says. “Jeno went home with a girl, it’s just me and Hyuck and Renjun and Chenle and Jaemin and Jisung-” Sweet Jesus, he’s listing half of your work staff. “But I wanna be with you. I can call a cab and be at your place in like, fifteen minutes?”
“Whatever you want, puppy,” you grin. “I’ll be here.”
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11ratsinatrenchcoat · 2 years
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Seeing my actual real human name written out in a fanfic makes me feel like the Wicked Witch of the West who’s just had an unfortunate encounter with an Olympic sized swimming pool.
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nostalgia-tblr · 2 years
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Think I'll headcanon that Sylvie changed her name so that the fanfiction about her kissing her other self would be easier to write ❤
(Hello yes I have been in more than one than one fandom where I've thought "Oh, I should write this specific pairing!" and then immediately gone "No hang on those characters have the same name. And the same pronouns. And they look the same. Fuck.")
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cbartonscoffee · 3 months
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I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.
First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.
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Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.
Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.
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Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.
I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.
So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.
So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.
The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.
So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)
So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.
They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.
All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.
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beansandsprouts · 5 months
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Sunshine
Female reader. Sparse use of y/n.
Summary: Growing up, Bucky never thought he'd find his soulmate. Years and years and years of searching. Even Steve had found his. But you were nowhere to be found. Until he was living in the Avengers Tower. Until you happened to join the team.
Warnings: none
Considering making this a series, let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next one. I may consider doing a bit of a rewrite of it all on my other fanfic blog and add in some sweet smut in there. Everything on this blog will be kept mostly PG.
Bucky was irritated. He didn't see why there had to be this big deal about a new team member. And he didn't understand why he had to be there. They hadn't been told much about you. All Tony had said was you were ex-military, and that everyone typically called you Grim. As in Grim Reaper. Bucky had to admit he was curious to know what earned you that nickname.
With a callsign like that, you had to be ruthless. Cold blooded. So he wasn't expecting this cute bubbly thing to practically skip in alongside Tony with a huge grin. Though he could tell that belt buckle you had on was hiding a knife.
He was immediately taken with you. He'd been a heartthrob in his younger years, had no shortage of women throwing themselves at him. Though he hadn't really been with anyone since being freed from Hydra, though he'd seen pretty women. You, however, were completely different.
The warmth of your smile and twinkle in your eyes made his chest warm. He admired the shape of your lips and the way your jaw curved. Even the little glimpse of your collarbone had him tingling with an unfamiliar excitement.
"Alright, everyone this is our new teammate. I'll let you introduce yourself." I gestured for you to step forward.
"Hi, nice to meet you all. Name's y/n but most just call me Grim." You offered a bright smile.
Bucky felt his heart skip a beat when you spoke your name. Hell everytime he heard that name he got his hopes up, and without fail they'd been dashed. There was no way it was you. You were technically a lot younger than him, it'd be ridiculous if you were his soulmate.
Right?
Everyone else immediately greeted you warmly, your sunshiney demeanor immediately brought a feeling of ease to everyone around you. It didn't take long before you and Steve were swapping combat stories. Bucky sat quietly the entire time, taking you in. He was hoping to get a glimpse of your soulmate mark, wondering if it'd be his name written in his messy writing. But your damned long sleeves obscured even the tiniest glimpse of it.
Your laugh was like music to his ears. He felt breathless hearing that beautiful sound and watching the way your face changed. You were gorgeous. Even the way you blinked had him enamored.
He swallowed hard as you giggled and playfully nudged Natasha when she made a joke. You hadn't even directly spoken to him yet and he was already absolutely whipped for you.
After a while, everyone dispersed, and Tony led you to your room. Which coincidentally was right across from Buckys.
He awkwardly stood in his doorway as he watched someone bring two duffels and a box into your room. You didn't have much. He had a feeling you had tactical gear in those duffels and a few sets of fatigues. He had to admit he was a bit surprised considering your bubbly personality. He thought you'd be the type to have a bunch of cutesy clothes to wear when you were off duty. And some pretty things to decorate your room.
Though to be fair you'd basically come straight here from the military. You'd hinted at having enhanced abilities, but Bucky doubted you'd been given the same serum as him or Steve. He had to admit he was excited to see what you were capable of.
You'd dropped the box on your bed and noticed Bucky across the hall.
"Hey! You're Bucky right?"
A bit embarrassed to have been caught watching, he just silently nodded.
"You're also a super soldier, yeah?"
He nodded again and you offered a soft smile.
"Steve's more the talker huh?"
Bucky huffed out a chuckle.
"Definitely." He responded.
It was the first time you'd heard him speak and it sent shivers down your spine and a heat between your legs. He'd caught your eye the moment you entered the common room, and now his room was straight across from his. If you had to describe the situation in one word it'd have to be "fucked." It woukd be heaven and torture to have such a gorgeous man living mere feet away from you.
"Well I look forward to spending more time together. I don't mind silence." You offered a sweet smile. You couldn't help but notice the way his cheeks tinged red at that, which you found incredibly adorable.
This was going to be an interesting experience.
Next Part
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sugawhaaa · 28 days
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HONGJOONG ONE-SHOT
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"Is this what my princess does when she misses me?"
Warnings::SMUT
genre::masturbation(fem) fingering, dildo riding, collar, hair pulling, choking (a whee little bit) spanking, degradation, cream pie, pet names, porn without plot, aftercare bc Hongjoong is a sweetie 💕 [tell me if I missed anything bc I probably did] also the whole "feeling it in your stomach" thing is an exaggeration don't come at me okay? Also if u doing this and u feel it in your stomach pls call an ambulance.
Pairing::HARD!dom!Hongjoong x sub!fem!reader
A/N:: writing this literally had me in shambles bc everytime I wrote like 3 lines in I just got so turned on I couldn't focus. I don't mean to toot my own horn but holy fuck this fanfic drives me wild in the best way possible.
🎧::
There's no doubt that your boyfriend is a busy man. He's a workaholic and spends more time at the studio than home. You wish you got to see him more and experience simple things with him but deep down you know his love for you is never ending and you have all the time in the world to be with him.
Sometimes though your body needs him even when he's not around so you have to rely on yourself. Tonight was one of those nights. You decided to turn on some porn and enjoy yourself to the fullest. You turn off the main light and turn your LED lights to red. You tease yourself for a while, just like Hongjoong would. You use your fingers for a while teasing your fingertips along the folds and entrance before switching to a clear dildo. You started off slow, forcing your hands to move slowly even though your body begged you to go faster. You wanted to create a realistic scene of what Hongjoong would do.
You threw your head back as the dildo hit all the right places before hearing the door open. You instantly panic and reach for your phone, turning off the loud lewd sounds coming from the speaker. You look up at Hongjoong with guilty eyes as he closes the door behind himself. You inch up to the top of your bed.
"Hongjoong?" You blush as he sits on the desk chair next to your bed, crossing his legs as he looks at you.
"Keep going," he nods as he watches you, a glint of lust lingering in his eyes. You look confused before doing as you were told. You knew he wore the pants in the relationship, especially in bed. If you disobeyed you knew you would regret it. He watched intently as you started moving the dildo again, a devilish smirk grew on his face. "Is this what my princess does when she misses me?" He asks with a mischievous grin. You nod as you keep pounding the dildo inside you. "Oh you're such a dirty little girl aren't you?" He teases as he puts his hand on his chin. "Don't muffle those little moans, keep your mouth, open darling," Hongjoong cooes and you do as he says.
Your moans fill the room along with the sound of you clenching around the dildo, your slick walls sticking to it. Hongjoong's eyes are glued on you, watching your tits bounce, your pussy leaking, your mouth hanging open. His eyes fill with lust as he looks at you with that devilish smirk of hunger. The urge to pick you up, flip you onto your stomach and pound into you is just too much for him. He watches as you reach your orgasm, leaning back in his chair as he watches you. "Look at the mess you've made~" Hongjoong smirks as you pull the dildo out of you. "Such a good whore," he says before standing up. He goes to your nightstand and pulls out the collar and chain. You lay back on the bed and he sits next to you, equipping the collar around your neck.
He hooks the chain to it before tugging it, making sure it's secure. He caresses your cheek softly as he looks down at you, pure love and lust in his eyes. He strokes back your hair before kissing your forehead.
"Did I do good?" You ask softly and he smiles endearingly.
"Yes baby, but I need you to keep being a good girl okay?" He reassures you. "Know get on the floor," he demanded and you did as he said. You go on your knees on the floor next to the chair he was using. He grabs the dildo and sticks it to the floor. He finds your bottle of lube on the desk and he grabs it, lathering the dildo in the lube.
Realistically you both knew that the dildo didn't need anymore lube with the amount of cum that was on it but you also knew how much Hongjoong loves the sight of lube and cum everywhere. "C'mere baby," he says in a soft yet seductive tone. You line the tip of the dildo up with your entrance, watching carefully as you sit down on it. Hongjoong smirks as he watches the dildo fill you up. You whimper loudly as you hit the floor. "That's it," he praises as he grabs the chain to your collar again. He sits in front of you watching, his bulge pressed against his dress pants. You started slowly moving up and down on the toy. Hongjoongs eyes followed your movements very carefully, watching how you'd grind down on it. He analyzed your movements that made you react the most, being sure to thoroughly memorize them to use on you later.
As he watched you he couldn't wait any longer. He unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers to free his erection. He started pumping his cock as he watched you ride the dildo just how he told you to. No words needed to be spoken, only moans and whimpers bounced off the walls of the room. The pleasure inside you started to boil up your body. Hongjoong pulled the chain causing the collar to tighten around your throat. You squint your eyes shut as your orgasm starts surfacing.
"I'm gonna cum," you whimper softly as your head falls forward, your hips still moving. Hongjoong pulled the chain harshly forcing your head to look up at him as you came. He watched intently as your body tensed up, shaking from the pleasure and one last thrust down and you shattered. Your pleasure spilling out of you as you moan loudly. The sight of you breaking beneath him tipped him over the edge, his load shooting onto your face. A low groan escaped his throat as he coated your face in his cum. The sight of your face decorated with his semen snapped a string of control in his mind. He finally lost all composure.
"Get up," he demanded as he moved to the bed. You did as he said, standing on wobbly legs from the rush of pleasure you just experienced. He pulls you up to the bed before taking off his shirt "On your knees baby," he orders and you instantly get into position. Laying your chest down on the bed and sticking your ass up. You feel him grab your hips and his tip lines up with your entrance. He holds the chain to your collar as he slowly pushes inside you, his cock stretching your walls perfectly.
You moan loudly and grab the pillow in front of you. "You're so tight," he groans. "Did you miss me that much~?" He says as he grips your ass with one hand. The sound of your bodies colliding and the bed creaking rings in your ears as the pleasure swallows you whole.
"Yes daddy," you whimper before feeling him drop the chain. He grabs a fist full of your hair instead, pulling your head up.
"That's right," he smirks as his pounds get harsher. "Beg for it," he looks down at you before bringing his hand up and slapping it across your ass. The loud clap echoing in the room electing a gasp from your lips.
"Please Hongjoong, I wanna cum," you whimper and the feeling of dominance rushes over Hongjoong. He can control you. He gets to decide when you can cum.
"Louder," he demands before clapping your ass again. You whimper beneath him.
"Please!" You basically scream. "I want to cum!" You grip the sheets hard and Hongjoong's thrusts suddenly speed up to the point you see stars. You didn't know it was physically possible to go this fast. You moan loudly as you feel tears spark in your eyes from the pleasure. "I'm cumming!" You scream out and Hongjoong smirks. The feeling of your walls hugging him tightly drives him closer to the edge.
He lets go of your hair and you bury your face in the pillow as you cum simultaneously. His seed fills you up as he buries his cock so deep inside you, you can feel it in your stomach. He pants heavily before gently sliding out. He lays you on your back and pins you down to the bed. His eyes are full of hunger and desire for more. You breathe heavily as you lay there under his mercy. He kisses up your jaw, giving you some time to come down from your high. He licks up your jawline to your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.
His hands trail down to your tits, massaging them as his tongue rolls along your skin. His thumb grazed over your nipple and you jumped lightly. The sudden sensation makes your lips part and release soft moans. His opposite hand travels even lower, going down to tease your entrance. His middle finger tracing down your folds. "Your so fucking wet," he growls against your ear. "I just wanna fuck you so hard," he says before groping you again. "I love everything about you, your tits, the way your ass moves when I slap it, the way you drool when I hold your mouth open," he says before biting your neck. You bring your hand up to caress the back of his head, playing with his hair.
"I love you too," you smile before Hongjoong sits up again. He lines his tip up with your entrance before slamming his hips against your. You moan loudly and grab the sheets. He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head as he thrusted into you. It seemed like he never got tired during sex, he could fuck you for hours on end and he wouldn't even be phased. Yet you'd be a slobbering, crying, fucked up, mess under him.
"Tell me how much you want it," he groaned as his grip tightened on your wrists.
"Please, Hongjoong," you moan loudly. "I want to feel you…" your mind blanked out. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you drives you wild. All you wanted was for him to keep treating you like his sex toy. "Please keep using me," you whine and he grips the chain once again, pulling it up as he continues to thrust into you. "Use me like the slut I am," you moan out hoarsely and that devilish grin spreads across his face again. Hearing you call yourself a slut made him feel so overpowered. He licked his lips quickly as he used his skilled hips to pound into you.
"Yeah? Is that what you want?" He teases and your eyes roll back, the angle of his cock hitting your g-spot so perfectly. He pushed inside you again, burying his length inside you before rolling his hips on yours. Your back arched up into him at the feeling of his cock roaming around inside you. You couldn't even say anything, you couldn't tell him to keep going, you couldn't tell him how good it felt, you couldn't even moan. The only thing on your mind was the pure bliss of pleasure that coursed through your veins. "Look how fucked up you are," he hissed in a low voice before continuing to thrust deep inside you.
He finally let your wrists go, you dropped your arms down to see red marks around your wrists. The outline of his fingers still present.
Hongjoong starts to lose himself in you, his possessive aura lowering as his climax approaches. The new depth and angle of this position didn't feel like heaven just for you, it also felt like the gates of heaven were upon him as well. "Shit," he groans under his breath as his arms start to give out. His body fell a little closer to yours. He put his forehead on yours before stealing your lips in a passionate kiss as he exploded inside you. His seed filling you up right to the top of your cervix. He thrusts into you a few more times before you Crack beneath him again. Your entire body contorts and shakes from the pleasure. You separate from his lips, catching your breath. You tangle your hands in his sweaty blue hair. You continue to hold him close to you before kissing him again.
He ran his hands through your hair as well before holding your cheek, caressing it softly with his thumb. He pulls back again to look at you. Your eyes are watery and red, your face red and sweaty, your hair tangled and damp, your chest heaving for air as your mouth hangs open.
"I love you so fucking much," he says as he pulls you in a tight hug. You chuckle and hold him close. He then pulls out of you carefully, watching how when he pulls out of you it's like pulling a plug from a drain. All the cum dripping out of you. He crouches down and licks up your folds softly. "I can't let it go to waste," he hums between kitten licks. You bring your hand down to pet his head softly. Once he's finished he lays down next to you, his body facing yours, his hands still all over you. Caressing your hair and face. His eyes fall down to your collar, quickly reaching out to take it off. "Sorry, I-I kind of forgot about that," he blushes as he takes it off. You chuckle lightly at his embarrassment.
"It's okay baby," you say in a hoarse voice. You admire him as he rolls over and puts the collar on the nightstand. Your eyes fall to his chest, it's been a while since you saw him completely nude like this. You reach your hand out to caress his chest and down to his abs, feeling the muscles. He looks at you a little surprised. "I haven't seen you like this in a while. You've been working out a lot," you smile before bringing your lips down to place some hickies along his chest. He chuckles lowly at the feeling of his skin sandwiched between your lips. You run your fingers along his skin when he notices the marks around your wrists. He takes your hand and brings it up for him to look at.
"Oh, baby," he says softly before kissing the sensitive skin. "You should've told me to let go if it hurt," he looked at you with apologetic eyes.
You shake your head. "I didn't even notice it hurting," you smile and he looks at you, still upset.
"Let me see your neck," he lifts up your chin to check if there were any marks on your neck. He runs his thumb against the tender red skin around your neck. It wasn't as bad as your wrists but it still looked painful. "What about your ass? Turn around," he quickly gestured for you to turn and you reluctantly did. You could feel his eyes on your rosy red ass cheek. "I'll go get some lotion," he says before standing up and you blush.
"Honey it's fine," you say as you grab his wrist, bringing him back to the bed. You bring him back into your arms as you cuddle each other.
"I'll call you out of work tomorrow so you can rest up," he pets your hair and you shake your head.
"No, no it's okay hongjoong," you assure him but you both know he isn't going to listen.
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seduzist · 6 months
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katniss is definitely a fast learner.
cw. katniss x fem! reader. smut. minors dni. does anyone still read katniss fanfics? idk
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imagine inexperienced! katniss w/ power bottom! reader, you tell her how to do everything right to properly please you and she promptly listens and do even through her cheeks are blushing hard.
while her fingers are knuckles deep inside you, she enjoys the warming sensation but also gets so concentrated in everything, every heavier breath, every time you whine, every squirm that your body unconsciously give because it feels so good.
she feels so, so proud of herself, especially when you praise her, letting her know how good she’s making you feel; “you’re doing so good, kat.”
but even through she’s still inexperienced and unsure of what to do, she’s a fast learner and her instincts to take charge and control of the situation talks louder and she wastes no time in closing her mouth against one of your nipples and one arm around your waist to keep you in place when you squirm a little too hard.
her sudden move made you feel even hotter and attracted to her, and she seems to notice by the way your walls gripped her fingers and the way your nails scratched her back.
after that, didn’t take long for you to come on her - surprisingly - skilled fingers, your legs shaken and your eyes rolled back in your head while you arched your back, calling out her name like a pray. katniss was mesmerized by the sight, completely intoxicated, it didn’t compare to anything she has seen in her life, to any proud of herself she ever felt before, she wanted to, she needed to see it happen again.
when your body stopped shaking and katniss took out her fingers inside of you and her body on top of yours, you kissed her lips, silently thanking her for making you feel so good, but after a few seconds she pulled back, looking right into your eyes with her dilated pupils.
“i need to do it again, can i?” you looked at her in confusion for a moment. “i need to… make you feel good again, please?” she said shyly but still looking determined.
she puts herself between your legs again, and the cold air hitting your core already made you shiver at how sensitive you were, after all you just had a mind blowing orgasm.
“i’m sensitive, kat..” you started but she cut you off with a kiss.
“please? i really want it.” she takes your little smile as a yes and leaned down her body until her face was between your uncovered thighs, which she kissed with love.
katniss looked at your center, so inviting and wet that she feels her own cunt dripping just at the sight and breathing heavily, she looks at your face again, licking her lips.
“teach me how to…” she starded breathless but didn’t finish, she looked so eager and needy, more than you’ve ever seen before.
you breathed in heavily and adjusted your body on the mattress, then brings your hand to caress her cheeks until make its way to the back of her head, silently guiding her on what to do.
“i’ll teach you everything, kat.”
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canthelpit0 · 2 months
Text
Enemies (with benefits)
Pairing: Cold!Chris x Reader
Word count : 1,489
Summary: Chris and reader have always been enemies ever since they’ve known each other. neither knew why they had this burning feeling in their gut. So one day they decide to fuck it out. Until, eventually doing it regularly
Warnings: smut, p0rn with plot, a LOT of plot, angst, name calling (bitch, slut, etc.), p in v, rough x, mentions of safe word (not used), rude/cold!Chris, degration, friend with benefits, awkward, (implied) RichKid!reader, no love (😔), unprotected, creampie, no after care, no use of y/n, no oc
(A/N: this is my first ever fanfic that I’ve posted on tumblr. So ya, I’m shitting bricks. Please give me feat back on my writing, and what I can improve. Also English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any mistakes. Hope you like it!! :D)
PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 FINAL
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Ever since I can remember, I’ve known the triplets. The sturniolo’s and my family were always really close. And ever since I can remember, I’ve hated Chris.
Now, enemies was a harsh word. A bit of an exaggeration. It wasn’t like we were at war for opposing countries. We were more like rivals. In every aspect.
Sometimes it felt like the only reason Chris studied for school, was to beat my grade. He wasn’t really stupid, but he was definitely not book smart.
The problem wasn’t that. We’ve always lived normally, simply hating and avoiding each other. After all he was my longtime nemesis.
Until that one fateful night where we’d been at my house. My parents have a big business so they’d frequently be on business trips. And it just so happened that that night my younger siblings were not home, both of them being at their separate sleepovers with friends.
We’d been paired for some project. And naive me thought, that it’d be fine. We could be civil for a few hours. But I thought wrong. The hatred was too strong and the tension was too thick in the air.
Seemingly everything I did made him agitated. And vise versa.
Until he finally snapped and we got into a full fledged argument, wich turned into a yelling match. However it all went quiet when he crashed his lips onto mine.
Breathing heavily I had kissed back, hard. It was easier to battle about with a kiss, rather than screaming. And like hell was I gonna be dominated by Christopher fucking sturniolo.
So the night progressed. He had me, my face buried in the sheets babbling out nonsense and screaming his name. But not in anger like I usually would.
It had been months since that happened, and it still haunted me. The idea that it even happened. That his lips had been on mine, his dick literally inside of me, that I was literally under him, disgusts me to my core. But it didn’t matter. It was one of many times.
Sometimes it was a quickie, sometimes an all nighter. Sometimes Chris was dominant other times he was not. Sometimes it was at my place other times at his.
And it wasn’t like those cliché stories of friends with benefits where one fell in love. This felt more like an urge. Like neither of us wanted to actually hook up but we were irking to. This was better than having a yelling match. And on the rare occasions I was dominant it felt great making him shut up and take it. It felt equivalent to winning an argument. The whole point was to teach a lesson, and express annoyance and anger without directly doing that.
“Chris-“ I let out a sharp cry, even the pillow that my face was buried in didn’t really make the scream sound quieter.
His hips keep drilling into my core hitting all the right spots to make me weak in the knees.
Sex with him, objectively, felt good. In the moment. He knew how to please a woman. But he also knew that he was pushing it right now.
“Don’t fucking tell me to slow down.” He snaps his tone, and words as harsh as his breathing. “You have a safe word. Use it if you need to. And other wise, shut, the fuck, up.”
I only let out a sharp whine when he seems to pick up pace even more. He’s made a mess of me. We’ve been at this for hours. Literally.
I’ve come more times than I can count and Chris wasn’t showing any sign of stoping anytime soon.
My back arches perfectly, but I’ve been in this position for too long for it to be comfortable. Him leaning over my back occasionally leaving harsh slaps on my ass while his other hand stayed firmly im my hair.
His hand being tangled in my hair as he was both pulling it, but also pressing me down into the pillow under me.
I feel the ache in my cunt subside again, as a knot starts to form. I’m close, again, and I don’t know if I can keep going after.
“Chris” I scream his name loudly panting and moaning. “I’m- close” I can barely form a sentence. His thrust are hard enough to knock the air out of my lungs every time.
“Oh ya?” He harshly slaps my ass causing me to moan loudly. “How much more you think this pussy can take?” He huffs his tone ever so cocky.
He always did this. He liked being dominant and absolutely wrecking me as much as he can. And he knows I’m close to breaking, and that’s what makes it worse. I just know he gets a wired satisfaction out of exerting me.. using me, like this.
His hand stays firmly in my hair tugging harder. His other hand trailing from my ass to my clit as he starts to rub on it harshly.
I clench instinctively, my whining and moaning getting even louder. “I’m gonna-“ a harsh slap on my clit catches me off guard.
Chris keeps going. “Fucking slut. You like getting destroyed like this?” he mocks, his tone condescending as his pace doesn’t let up.
“Go on bitch, cum on my cock. Come again.” He urges. And the rubbing of his fingers on my clit and the relentless torture to my cunt is threatening to push me over the edge.
“Can I come in that pussy again?” He asks his voice coming out strained and harsh from the pleasure.
“Yes-“ I’m cut off, again. As i am physically not able to speak with the pace he’s going at.
And the combined pressure of everything pushes me over the edge. Suddenly the knot in my stomach snaps and my body goes limp after loud moans. He goes for a few more thrusts before I feel the familiar hot liquid fill my cunt.
After a minute where we catch our breaths he slowly starts to massage my scalp knowing he’s been pulling on it for at least half an hour straight.
He pulls out not really gently, but not harshly either.
Hook ups with Chris always felt like one night stands, when they were really regular.
I let my body fall limp fully laying on my stomach as I sigh, content in my position, not attempting to move.
I can practically feel Chris watching me.
Normally I wouldn’t be this much of a mess. But than again normally we didn’t go for hours. Normally Chris used a condom. But today was not one of those days.
Sometimes chris had enough common sense to at least pretend to care.
But right now he was just staring.
“You okay?” He asks his tone gentler and more quiet than usual. He knew he was pushing it, but did he really care tho?
I shiver as I feel his hand start to rub over my back. Ever so gently pinching the skin to ease some tension.
“Ya”
My breath is short as I’m still calming down not doing or saying anything else.
After a while I turn around slightly, wincing as I lay on my back. My back hurt from the previous uncomfortable position I was in.
I opened my tired eyes, looking up at him, my eyes meeting his. I knew I probably looked like a wreck right now. My hair a mess because of all the moving and position changes as well as his pulling. My face having dried mascara and tear stains on it from when I’d been crying.
I was too tired to even hide my body. I just turned around not bothering to hide my chest as I did, I was too fucked out to care.
His lips pursed, looking over my face. But he wasn’t concerned. But rather disgusted at the sight. He was glad he made me look like shit, but I could see in his eyes that he would much rather be anywhere else right now.
After sex was the worst for us.
The arguments leading up to it were normal. The sex itself was great. But afterwards…
Usually he’d leave. But today he had gone far. He’s done worse before. But every time he did he felt like he should give me proper after care. But I can see the annoyance radiating off of him, and I just know he does not want to be here.
And as harsh as it sounds, he couldn’t really care less what state he left me in. He’s told me multiple times.
“You can leave.” I mumble sighing. My throat felt horse from all the screaming, crying and moaning, that I’d been doing. I’ll need to get a water soon.
He gives me a simple nod, quickly changing, then going to my bathroom to fix his appearance.
And than he leaves.
The room is quiet. Nothing to be heard, nothing to be said.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you liked it, this was literally my first time writing smut🫣 also I don’t have a taglist yet, so i just added my moots. Tell me if u wanna be added, or removed :D
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist : @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns
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peacefxlmyko · 3 months
Text
It's not a one night stand if it turns into two
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Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader
Basically just Jake falling for his FWB.
Warnings: some smut, p in v, no physical describtion of reader, no use of Y/N, Jake getting attached, jealousy, sudden love confessions, fluff, maybe a little bit of Angst if you squint your eyes?, swearing
Notes: First smutty fanfic on here lmao go wild yall. All I have to say is Im in love with Glen Powell and so I automatically love Hangman too. Also the title is inspired by a Måneskin Song!
Once again, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry about any mistakes. Also, I didn't prove read this so just be warned.
Story under the cut! ✂️
He simply couldn't take this eyes off of you. The way you were standing at the bar, slightly leaning onto it as you were talking to Penny. The way your dress was hugging your body, perfectly showing off everything. Everything he had already seen but couldn't get enough off.
His mind drifted off to the first night you spent together. He didn't even remember anymore how you two ended up in bed together, but it was amazing.
Jake could basically still hear your whines and moans. They were music to his ears.
"Jake, oh, oh god- please!" You whined and begged, craving release. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your shared moans and the headboard banging against the wall.
He was so big and he was fucking you so well. You always thought he gave off big dick energy but jesus- this was even more than expected, but you weren't going to complain.
"That's right, just like that- you're bein' such a good girl." He groaned, his hips bucking hard. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him drove him wild, not to mention you moaning and whining his Name.
You ended up coming on his cock, screaming his name. This wasn't your first and definitely not the last orgasm of the night.
"Seresin? Christ, are you even listening?"
He snapped back out of his thoughts as he looked back at Rooster, who by now just looked annoyed. "Sorry, I uh- yeah, I'm listenin'" Jake quickly mumbled and tried to pull himself together.
You both were friends and had told yourselves after the first time it wouldn't happen again. Well, that was 4 night stands ago.
Jake would never admit it to himself, but he was going crazy over you. Not only because of the way you fucked, but also because of your whole being. The way you lit up whenever someone talked to you, how you would sometimes nervously fiddle with your fingers or the hem of your shirt, the way you looked at him with a soft sparkle in your eyes.
But he was also obsessed with the way your hands buried in his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips as he filled you up, the way you held onto his biceps as you rode him.
But he would never admit that. He would never admit the way his heart fluttered whenever you cuddled close to him after sex. The way his heart actually also reacted whenever you kissed him, not only his cock.
The Jake 'Hangman' Seresin falling for someone? Never. He was never the kind of man to actually fall for someone and even think about settling down. But something about you felt different, even if it was only physical, for now.
By now Bradley had completely given up trying to talk to Jake. He just rolled his eyes and joined Phoenix and Bob instead.
Jake's eyes were focused on you the whole time, he was surprised you hadn't turned around at least once to catch him staring. You were still engrossed in a conversation with Penny until she had to serve other customers. You leaned back, grabbing your drink and taking a few sips until you were suddenly approached by a man.
Jake had hoped at first he just wanted to ask where the restroom was or something but when he didn't leave your side, Jake felt something boiling inside of him. His jaw clenched as he saw you laughing and happily talking with that guy.
He didn't even understand why you were so focused on that rando. He wasn't even half as handsome as Jake, hell, even Bradley was more handsome in Jake's eyes!
His patience ran out the moment you pulled out your phone, seemingly to give your number to that ass of a man as Jake mentally called him that.
His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they stormed towards you. Hangman grabbed your shoulder and quickly turned you around to him, earning shocked looks from both you and that guy.
"What the—"
"What the hell are you doin'? I thought we were a thin'!"
God, that stupid southern accent basically made you wanna melt right then and there.
"Wha- I thought you only saw us as some quick fun!" You protested.
"Are you kiddin' me?! Do you think I'm sleepin' with other girls besides you?"
"....."
Jake frowned at your silence which was basically the most direct answer.
"Listen, I don't usually do shit like this. Normally I move on quickly but you put some kind of spell or somethin' on me because you make my damn heart flutter every time our gazes meet. And I love the way you laugh, I love the way you tease me, I love the way you make fun of me. And I fuckin' hate seeing you with a man that isn't me. So quit your bullshit with this guy and finally go on a proper date with me!"
Jake didn't even think, it was all just blurting out.
You looked like your eyes were about to pop out, you stared at him in complete disbelief. Were you dreaming or something?
"Please say somethin' so I know I didn't mess this up."
"Shut up and kiss me, Seresin" You muttered and promply pulled him in.
This kiss felt so different from all the other ones you shared. This one was so full of emotions and passion. Your hand rested on his cheek, as his hands found their place on your waist.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7." Jake grinned.
You didn't even mind he had just decided that, you were looking forward to that date.
"See you then, cowboy." You grinned and pressed another quick kiss on his lips.
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vikdelrey · 10 months
Text
SOFT
ft. roronoa zoro
summary. unlike what many people think, zoro prefers sweet, reassuring sex by the woman he loves. wc. 750
cw / tw. fem!reader, soft!zoro, somewhat dom!reader unprotected sex, pet names (ex. sweet girl, sweet thing, baby) soft sex, riding, mdni 18+ readers.
an. this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, i hope you enjoy! comments and reblogs are appreciated :) (also we need more one piece writers ugh)
most people who knew, or knew of zoro we’re always surprised to see him with such a sweet and compassionate girl. even the sheer size difference made others uneasy with their own thoughts. “god she’s strong for taking all.. that.” the voice came from a few blonde girls who were giggling behind you two. oh, how wrong they were.
zoro wasn’t a very romantic man, to say the least, but he knew how to be gentle with you. he made sure to watch the way your body moved when he touched you. the sounds you made when he did something you liked. he could be rough on occasion, but never without your consent. “what ya lookin’ at sweet girl?”
you were lost in thoughts about what those girls were talking about when zoro sleeping on your shared bed caught your eye, until he caught you stealing a glance. “oh just admiring you.” the tips of his ears immediately flushed a cute shade of pink. “not much to admire these days.” your smile dropped as he turned his head away from you.
it was the scars. zoro didn’t know if you still found him as attractive after being apart for so long. you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by bringing it up so you never did, which also contributed to the newfound insecurity. “don’t say things like that zo. i think you’re perfect.” it wasn’t long before you were placing yourself into his lap. “in fact, i think you look so handsome right now.”
there it is, that playful smirk on his face as you ran your fingers through his green hair. “yeah baby?” you replied with a quiet ‘mhm’ followed by a peck on his lips. “i can show you just how handsome i think you are hm?” you pulled away to trace the scar over his eye, giving it a quick peck before your thumb traced his lips.
zoros lips parted as your hips lightly rocked against his own, pulling low gasps and groans from your him. your small fingers rushed to rid the swordsman of his pants, aching to see him. “someone excited.” he chuckled at your antics. his rough hands began to kneed at your nightgown, slowly lifting the thin fabric to reveal your plush thighs spread over his. your lack of panties made his mouth go dry.
“lift your hips zo.” he followed your command and watched as you tugged his pants and boxers down his hips. zoro had never seen you so eager to jump his bones before and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t slightly boost his ego and turn him on. you wasted no time crawling up further on his cock making him hiss.
he felt your small fingers wrap around the base of his cock, quickly tugging as you kissed along his jaw. nothing could compare to this feeling. “slow down sweet thing you’re g’na give me whiplash.” you giggled against his tan skin, pulling away to face your lover. “i love you zoro.” his name came out as a whine as you lifted your hips and began to sink down onto his throbbing cock. “ngh fuck baby s’tight.”
the erotic noises he made couldn’t be contained anymore. your hand began to wonder his skin and you stared down at him with so much love and affection. “i love you so much yn. s’much mm-.” your hips kept a steady pace, keeping him in between calm and cumming. “you look so beautiful right now zoro.” his hips stuttered as he let out a breathy moan at the compliment. “could look at my sweet boy forever.”
it sent him over the edge within seconds. the featherlight touches, the compliments, the tightness of your warm walls around him. “m’cumming god! shit m’fuckin’ cumming!” the sight below you had your head spinning. your big strong man, trembling under you. “just a little more baby.”
he was trying so hard for you. his legs trembled, noises were escaping his throat that he had no idea he was capable of making. “mmh so close, just- ngh.” tears began gathering on his lash line, the overstimulation making his back arch ever so slightly. “yes m’cummin’ baby!” his arms caged your body into his, panting softly into your ear as you rode out your high. his body finally became calm, his soft snores filling your ears. all you could do was admire him, his watery eyelashes, and flushed face. you couldn’t have asked for more than this.
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megankoumori · 1 year
Text
In defense of a "Wicked Stepmother":
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Sarah's Stepmother in "Labyrinth", named Irene in tie-in media, only gets about a minute of screen time before Sarah rushes off to her room in a soaked snit. Fanfic writers usually turn her into an evil bitch and even the manga sequel, "Return to Labyrinth", has her cold and abusive to Toby, her biological child. But here's the thing...
I think Sarah's mother gets a bum rap.
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Dressing nicely for an evening out and having mild conflict with a teenager does not a Lady Tremaine make. And as someone who actually lived with a narcissistic, manipulative, emotionally abusive stepfather, I can tell you that Irene doesn't even come close to wicked step parent territory.
Backstory first. It's never spoken of in the film, but clues in Sarah's room tell us that her real mother is a stage actress who abandoned her and her father for another actor. Sarah idolizes her mother and tries to emulate her with play acting. Sarah's father met and married Irene sometime after Linda ran off, and Sarah, who thinks her mom walks on water, resents the hell out of Irene for taking her place. A place that Linda abandoned for another man.
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She couldn't help it. He looked like David Bowie.
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Let's look at her first alledged transgression. She won't let Merlin into the house. Instead she orders him into the garage. Heartless, we assume because we all love dogs and only the most soulless of monsters don't. But slow down. She didn't leave him out in the rain. She put him in the garage. Furthermore, Merlin is an Old English Sheepdog. Is he a nice dog? Sure, but he's also a breed that's notorious for being high maintenance and hard to keep clean and right now he's soaking wet and filthy. Irene isn't being cruel, she's trying to keep him from ruining the carpet.
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So now Sarah and Irene are in the house about to have their confrontation. "Sarah, you're an hour late..."
Sarah lost track of time. Sarah is the one who screwed up. Irene has every right to be frustrated. For all we know, she and Robert were supposed to see a movie or meet someone and Sarah's tardiness wrecks their plans. Note, please, that while she is frustrated, she's not even yelling. My mom would have screamed bloody murder and then held it over my head for weeks.
"Your father and I go out very rarely..."
"You go out every single weekend!"
There is no way to confirm who is right on this. I will say Sarah is the one prone to hysterics and exaggeration, so it's not looking good for her.
"And I ask you to babysit only if it won't interfere with your plans."
I ask. Irene asks. She doesn't demand, and she doesn't expect Sarah to give up her previous plans.
"Well how would you know what my plans are? You don't even ask me anymore!"
Sarah, you were LARPing in a park by yourself. Furthermore, with the storm you would have gone home anyway.
"Well I assume you would tell me if you had a date. I'd like it if you had a date. You should have dates at your age."
Irene doesn't want Sarah to be a Cinderella stuck at home every night. She wants her to go out and have a social life. This is literally the opposite of the bedtime story Sarah tells Toby later.
Also, "I'd assume you tell me..." Irene might not be wording it in the best way here, but she wants Sarah to communicate with her. She wants them to have a relationship.
Then Robert enters the scene. "Sarah, you're home. We were worried about you."
WE were worried. As in both he and Irene. You think that's the reason she was waiting on the porch? Because their sixteen year old daughter is an hour past when she said she'd be home and now it's raining and getting dark?
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It's not like she'd ever talk to a stranger.
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Sarah runs up the stairs in a snit, not even acknowledging her father and leaving Irene dismayed. "She treats me like a wicked stepmother in a fairy story no matter what I say." Her voice isn't angry, it's hurt. She's making an effort to reach Sarah, but nothings working. She can't break through the tantrums and the anger and the hero worship of Linda.
Sarah is a fantasy junkie. It's all over her room. Her books are all fairy tales. Her dog and her teddy bear are named after figures from Arthurian legend. But she's wrapped herself in a different kind of fantasy, a toxic one. One where Irene, well meaning and kind, is one of the evil stepmothers from her fairytale books, while Linda is good and virtuous like one of the dead moms at the beginning. Except Linda isn't dead. She's shtupping a costar.
Part of Sarah's coming of age and maturity is rejecting Jareth, the stand in for her mother's lover and therefore finally rejecting following her mother's selfish path. We see her finally let go of Linda by putting her picture and clippings in the drawer. Hopefully, the next morning, after she picks the confetti out of her hair, she'll finally be able to start over with Irene.
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