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moonlitsmile · 6 months ago

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burning desire 2

hwang in-ho x f!reader

꣑୧ — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐/𝟑 . the next day means a new game, that game being mingle. In-ho is determined to keep you safe, Even if that means killing somebody for yoy..

The familiar sound of classical-like music echoed through the speakers as morning arrived, signaling the start of another day. Some of the players were already awake, their movements faint and sluggish, but most remained sound asleep, lost in the brief respite of dreams. Her eyes blinked open slowly, adjusting to the dim light of the room as it brightened, the main lights turning on. A soft yawn escaped her lips as she stared up at the underside of the bunk above her. Still in this hellhole, she thought bitterly. But despite the grim reality of her situation, a small part of her remained curious—what would today’s game be? What kind of twisted trial awaited them?The music continued to play, its familiar melody filling the space. She had grown tired of hearing it every morning, but, strangely enough, it carried a sense of calm, almost soothing in its predictability. Rolling off the thin mattress beneath her, she let her feet hit the cold floor. The black metal frame of the bunk bed loomed above her as she rubbed her eyes. They still felt heavy, her body reluctant to wake fully.

“The third game will begin momentarily,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker system, cutting through the music. “All players, please get out of bed and get ready. Let me repeat…” The instructions droned on, but she barely listened, sighing softly instead. Around her, the others were beginning to stir, groaning and stretching as they reluctantly pulled themselves out of their beds. Her gaze, however, immediately sought out In-ho. As always, he was already awake, sitting silently on the black metal frame of an empty bunk, his posture calm and composed. She had never seen him sleep in. Did he even get tired like the rest of them? Or was he simply too restless to rest? She couldn’t help but wonder.

Her own eyes were still soft and sleepy as she yawned again, covering her mouth with one hand while the other reached up to rub the lingering drowsiness away. When her vision cleared, she noticed In-ho’s eyes on her. Startled, she froze for a moment. His gaze was gentler than she expected, almost warm in contrast to the cold and detached demeanor he usually carried. It caught her off guard. She hesitated, but then a small, shy smile tugged at her lips as she looked away nervously. Her hands instinctively went to her head, smoothing down her messy hair in a vain attempt to compose herself. She sighed quietly, trying to shake off the awkwardness of the moment. It was time to focus.

The doors of the large elevator slid open with a soft chime, revealing the vast room where their next game awaited. The woman’s voice, calm yet unnerving, echoed through the speaker system, pulling their attention forward. “Welcome to your next game. The game you will be playing is mingle.” Her voice lingered in the air as they hesitated. As the group began to step out of the elevator, her eyes darted around the room, scanning her surroundings. She walked hesitantly, trailing behind the others as they entered a large, dimly lit room. It was a peculiar space, dominated by a giant spinning platform in the center. Fifty differently colored doors lined the walls, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The platform itself resembled a carousel, but instead of horses or whimsical decorations, it was an unadorned spinning disk—a foreboding centerpiece for the task ahead.

Her breath caught slightly as she surveyed the room, nerves bubbling under the surface. Mingle. The name struck a chord. She had played something similar before, but she wasn’t confident in her skills. The memory of it only made her chest tighten further. Her hands fidgeted slightly as she tried to focus. Who wouldn’t be nervous in a situation like this? The stakes were far too high. She didn’t want to die. The woman’s voice cut through her thoughts again, crisp and unyielding. “Let me repeat, the game you will be playing is mingle.” The repetition didn’t soothe her; it only added to the weight in the air. Around her, the rest of the group exchanged uneasy glances, the tension palpable. Some admired the room’s dim, elegant design, but beneath aesthetics lay the truth: the games were anything but beautiful.

“All players, please step onto the center platform," the woman’s voice instructed. The words hung in the air like a command that couldn’t be disobeyed. “When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size. Go into that room and close the door within thirty seconds.” The instructions seemed deceptively simple, but the reality of executing them in the heat of adrenaline and chaos was another matter entirely. Her stomach twisted as she imagined the chaos that was sure to unfold.

“Oh, this game? We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging,” Jung-bae commented with a nervous laugh. The attempt at lightheartedness felt thin, but it broke the silence. “I’ve played before too,” she chimed in softly, her voice barely audible. “Yeah, except instead of hugging, we go into those rooms,” Dae-ho added, his tone carrying a mix of dread and resignation. Her gaze lingered on the platform’s dim lights and the odd pony-like figures scattered in the center, their presence oddly unsettling. In-ho’s eyes, however, remained fixed on her. He observed her closely, his expression unreadable. She had no idea who he truly was or the depth of his role in all of this. To her, he was just another participant. But to him, she was far more than that. He was a player in his own game, yet his thoughts were consumed with her safety. He was determined to protect her, no matter what.

“If the number is bigger than five, we’ll find the additional people we need.” Gi-hun said as glanced at everyone, trying to offer some semblance of leadership. Dae-ho frowned, his concern evident. “But what if it’s smaller than five? Like three or four?” The question hung in the air, heavy with implications. “No matter what happens, don’t panic. Let’s stay calm,” In-ho advised, his voice steady and reassuring. Her eyes instinctively flicked toward him, drawn by his calm demeanor. He seemed to carry an air of certainty, as if he already knew the outcome of the game. How could he remain so composed in a place like this? The thought lingered in her mind, distracting her momentarily. She shook her head, trying to refocus. She couldn’t afford to be distracted—not now. She had to survive. As the group began moving toward the platform, her steps felt heavier with each passing moment. The platform loomed ahead, its surface wide enough to accommodate all the players. She walked alongside In-ho, her presence near him both comforting and unsettling. Jung-bae flanked her other side, his expression tense. Once on the platform, everyone lined up in uneven rows, spreading out from the center to the edges. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her nerves. She sighed shakily, trying to steady herself, but the anxiety clawed at her composure. In-ho glanced down at her, noticing the slight tremor in her hands as she patted them against her thigh in an attempt to calm herself.

“It’s gonna be alright... don’t think about it too much,” he said softly, his voice a gentle reassurance. She glanced up at him, her soft eyes meeting his. A small nod was all she could muster as she whispered, “Okay.” Her gaze dropped back down to her feet, the stillness of the platform beneath them grounding her for a fleeting moment. “Let the game begin,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, breaking the fragile silence. Her breath hitched as the platform beneath them trembled, a faint vibration signaling the beginning of movement. Slowly, it started to spin. Gasps rippled through the group as the sudden motion caught many off guard. She stumbled slightly, the unexpected shift throwing her balance. Instinctively, her hand reached out, brushing against In-ho’s before gripping it firmly. She hadn’t meant to grab his hand—it was a force of habit. Her cheeks burned as she realized what she had done. Nervously, she glanced up at him, her face flushed.

In-ho looked down at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. Without hesitation, he held her hand, his touch steady and reassuring. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, a silent promise that he would keep her safe. For a moment, her fear subsided, replaced by the brief comfort of his presence. But the platform continued to spin, and the game had only just begun. The lights in the middle of the platform shut off, dimmer lights above them flickering as they turned on. She glanced up nervously, her breath uneven. She was still slightly jittery, her hands trembling as she tried to calm herself. The atmosphere was heavy, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, a children’s song began to play softly across the room, the whimsical melody contrasting eerily with the silence. “Round and round, let’s go in circles and dance,” sang the cheerful voice in the music, the lyrics echoing faintly. The platform beneath them began to spin, slow at first but gradually picking up speed. Everybody remained quiet, their gazes fixated on the room and the spinning platform, the only sound being the haunting children’s tune.

There were 255 players alive now. The number loomed in her mind, a reminder of how quickly the others had disappeared. A slight shake ran through the platform beneath them, causing ripples of unease among the participants. Without warning, the platform came to an abrupt halt, throwing some people off balance. reader stumbled, nearly losing her footing. In-ho’s hands darted out instinctively, gently steadying her before she could fall. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins quickly overshadowed it. She glanced at him briefly.

“Ten.” The woman’s voice over the speaker rang out. The room plunged into darkness as the lights cut off, replaced by a deep, warm purplish glow that filled the space. Frantic yells erupted around them, the quiet spell broken as chaos descended. People scattered in all directions, searching for others to team up with. Groups were forming hastily, the countdown ticking away in everyone’s minds. Y/N and the rest of her small group huddled together tightly. There were five of them—they needed five more. Reader her voice shaky from nerves, hurried over to the group next to them. “H-how many of you guys are there?” she asked urgently, her words spilling out in a rush. “Four,” Hyun-ju replied quickly, her expression just as panicked. “That makes us nine,” Jung-bae added, his voice edged with tension.

Another random group of five approached them in a frenzy. “Are you a group of five? So are we. Come with us!” one of them shouted, their tone insistent. They reached out, as if to pull them along, but before they could join, another group swooped in.

“Hey, we have five people too! Come on, come with us!” the second group said, tugging the first group away with them. Now, Y/N’s group and the group of four were left behind, still one person short. Panic set in as the seconds ticked away. “We have to hurry! There’s no time, Gi-hun!” In-ho called out, his voice rising above the growing noise. “We need one more!” Hyun-ju yelled, her eyes darting around frantically. Then, she spotted a woman standing off to the side. Without hesitation, she sprinted toward her, grabbing her arm. “We have ten now!” she shouted triumphantly.

“Room 44! Green door!” Gi-hun yelled back.

“Run!” Jung-bae added, his voice urgent.

reader ran with everyone, her heart pounding as fear and adrenaline surged through her. The group spilled into the room, the door slamming shut behind them. She leaned against the wall, breathing heavily and shakily. A small beep sounded, signaling that time was up. The door locked with a resounding click, trapping them inside. She wasn’t standing far from In-ho, her eyes instinctively drawn to the small opening in the door. Peering through, she could see the couple of remaining people who hadn’t managed to find a group. Her stomach twisted as she watched a guards approach them. The loud, sharp sound of gunshots rang out, echoing through the room as the players were executed one by one. Her eyes softening into ones of sympathy and remorse. A guy in front of their door catching her by surprise. “Please don’t shoot me!” He said, before getting shot right in the head. Right in front of her eyes through the opening in the door. She flinched at the sudden close noise, gasping softly as her body tensed. She stumbled slightly, bumping into In-ho by accident. Startled, she jumped and quickly turned around to face him. “I’m sorry,” she said gently, her voice trembling. Her nerves were getting the better of her, and it showed. In-ho’s eyes were locked on her, his dark but strangely gentle gaze steady. “Are you okay?” he asked lightly, his voice calm despite the chaos that had just unfolded. She nodded quickly, avoiding his eyes as she tried to compose herself. She didn’t want to look out the door anymore. The image of those left behind was burned into her mind, and she knew it would haunt her long after this moment had passed.

The lights then turned back on. The light beeps of what sounded like a forklift echoed softly in the tense silence. The woman’s voice came through the speaker once again, calm and detached as always. “The following players have been eliminated. Players 013, 043, 049, 054, 060.” She continued listing numbers in a monotone voice, the names blending together as the players in the room exchanged wary glances. This round had been brutal, far more challenging than the others. For some, it seemed almost impossible. After a few minutes, the guards began clearing the room, efficiently removing the lifeless bodies, placing them in boxes, and wheeling them away on carts. A buzz suddenly filled the air, signaling the unlocking of the door. “All players, please step back onto the platform,” the woman’s voice commanded over the speaker. The room collectively sighed, the heavy weight of the situation pressing down on everyone. Dae-ho moved toward the door, opening it as the group shuffled out.

Reader followed hesitantly, still shaken from the events of the previous round. Her mind raced, replaying the chaos. She clenched her fists, reminding herself to stay focused. Caution wasn’t enough anymore; speed was her only option. Quick and fast—that was the strategy now. She walked back onto the platform, her gaze lingering on the dark stains of blood smeared across the ground. A chill ran down her spine. She couldn’t end up like them. She wouldn’t. The thought alone made her stomach churn. In-ho trailed not far behind her, his sharp eyes watching her every move as she returned to the platform with the others. He noticed the slight tilt of her head as she glanced around nervously, trying to take in her surroundings. He could sense her fear, and though he hated to admit it, it bothered him. He didn’t want her to feel this way—even if he knew part of it was his fault. Still, he cared more about her safety than her feelings at the moment. For him, that was all that mattered.

Everyone lined up back on the large platform once more. The overhead lights flickered before dimming, casting faint shadows across their faces. The platform trembled slightly, causing several players to stumble as they tried to steady themselves. Reader felt her balance falter but managed to catch herself just in time. She instinctively glanced to her side, expecting to see In-ho, but he wasn’t there. Instead, he had moved to stand in front of her, next to Gi-hun. She watched as the two men exchanged hurried whispers, likely trying to strategize about the next number. The eerie music began to play once again, a mocking tune that felt out of place amidst the tension. The platform creaked as it began to move beneath their feet. “We will go hand in hand, and have fun jumping around. Round and round—” The sudden jerk of the platform stopping caused gasps to ripple through the group. Some players stumbled again, their nerves frayed.

“Four,” the woman’s voice announced over the speaker, cold and emotionless. The lights flickered off, replaced by the dim, purplish glow that seemed to swallow the room. readers heart quickened as she scanned the crowd for familiar faces. “Your four, go!” Gi-hun shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. “No, it’s okay! I’ll go find another group. I’m sure there’s another nearby,” reader yelled, trying to make herself heard over the noise. In-ho’s expression darkened at her words, his jaw tightening. He couldn’t let her run off—not when the chances of finding another group were slim. “No. You four go. Go ahead,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“B-but—” reader stammered, her voice trembling. She didn’t want to leave him. What if something happened to him? The thought was unbearable. “Go,” In-ho said strictly, turning away before she could respond. Without another word, he disappeared into the frenzied crowd, searching for another group. Reader watched him go, her chest tightening with worry. She wanted to call out to him, to stop him, but before she could, Jung-bae gently grabbed her arm. “We have no choice. Let’s go!” he urged, pulling her toward the purple-lit room. The four of them rushed inside, the door slamming shut behind them. Reader exhaled shakily, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes immediately went to the crack in the door, straining to catch a glimpse of In-ho. Her heart raced as she scanned the chaotic scene outside. People were yelling, running for rooms, and the flashing lights made it nearly impossible to focus. She couldn’t spot him in the sea of bodies.

The buzzer sounded again, signaling the end of the round. The lock on the door clicked into place, and the unmistakable sound of rapid gunfire filled the air. Reader flinched, her back pressing against the cold wall behind her. Her heart pounded as the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to steady her breathing. How many more rounds could she survive? How many rounds were left? The question lingered in her mind, heavy and unanswerable. The lights flickered before tuning back on, the clicking sounds of every door unlocking echoing through the space. As the mechanisms released, each door swung open, and people began stepping out cautiously. Blood smeared across the floor, more than before, a grim reminder of what had just occurred. The guards moved swiftly, disposing of the bodies with practiced efficiency, clearing the way before unlocking the remaining doors. It was then that **reader** stepped out, her breath shaky but steady enough. Her eyes darted around the vast room, scanning frantically for in-ho. Where was he? She pushed forward, her nerves on edge, walking alongside dae-ho, jung-bae, and gi-hun. The group stopped just outside the door, their expressions tense, voices rising as they began calling out for in-ho.

“Young-il!” Dae-ho shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth to project his voice louder. “Young-il?” Jung-bae called out, his tone edged with concern. reader glanced around nervously, her heart pounding against her ribs. Her wide, soft eyes flickered with worry as her gaze swept the room. Then, finally, she heard it—a familiar voice that made her heart skip a beat. “Gi-hun.” The voice was steady, calm, and unmistakable.

She turned sharply in the direction of the voice, and there he was. In-ho was walking back towards the group, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Relief washed over her like a wave, softening her expression as a sweet smile replaced her anxious frown. “Young-il!” Dae-ho called out again, this time with a breathy chuckle of relief. “Oh, thank god,” Jung-bae muttered, his tone heavy with gratitude as he stepped forward to embrace in-ho in a tight hug. In-ho stood beside reader, his presence grounding her in the moment. She let out a gentle chuckle, watching as Jung-bae clung to him briefly before stepping back. “I was worried,” Gi-hun admitted, his voice sincere, though tinged with a rare softness. “I’m glad you made it.”

Reader remained still, her gaze fixed on in-ho. Her eyes, wide and tender, were filled with a mixture of relief and unspoken gratitude. “I’m a likeable guy,” In-ho said with a light chuckle, his tone playful yet modest. “So I’m good at games like this.” A small smile broke across her lips as she watched him, her heart settling into a more even rhythm. In-ho’s gaze shifted then, turning towards her. His eyes, which had moments before been sharp and focused, now softened as they met hers. There was something gentle in his expression, a quiet concern that made her chest feel warm. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice light and unusually soft, as though he feared startling her. “Yes… I’m okay,” she replied, her tone quiet but sincere. “I’m glad you made it.” Her lips curved into a sweet, gentle smile, one that carried all her relief and gratitude in its simplicity. In-ho smiled back, the corners of his mouth lifting in a way that felt personal, almost intimate. His eyes, filled with affection and care, lingered on her for a moment longer before he sighed lightly and turned his attention back to the group. “All players, please step back onto the center platform,” the woman’s voice rang out again, cutting through the moment. It was calm, detached, and yet insistent, as though reminding them that their reprieve was only temporary. Reader took a deep breath, her smile fading only slightly as she prepared herself for whatever came next. Beside her, in-ho remained steady, his presence a small comfort amidst the tension that hung in the air like a storm cloud.

Two rounds had passed, and now it was the final round. The remaining players hesitated for a moment before stepping back onto the platform. Tension filled the room as everyone prepared themselves for what was to come. Reader moved to walk beside In-ho, wanting to stay close to him once again. She felt less jittery than before, having learned to be more cautious after the previous rounds. The woman’s voice echoed through the speakers, commanding attention. “Now, the final round will begin.” The platform shook slightly, causing some players to stumble. The familiar melody of “Round and Round” began to play again, filling the room with its eerie rhythm. Reader eyes darted around the room, noting the doors, the flickering lights, and the bloodstains that painted the floor and walls. In-ho, however, kept his gaze on her, watching her closely. She didn’t appear as nervous as earlier, which reassured him.

On In-ho’s other side stood Gi-hun, with Jung-bae behind him. “What do you think the number will be this time?” Jung-bae asked curiously. Before Gi-hun could answer, In-ho replied with quiet certainty, “Two.” Reader glanced up at him, noticing how his focus had shifted from her to the doors ahead. “Why two?” Jung-bae pressed, frowning. “There are 126 people left,” In-ho explained calmly. “And there are 50 rooms. That means there won’t be enough for everyone—only 100 people will survive. The rest will be killed.” His tone was steady and confident, leaving no room for doubt. A tense silence followed, broken only by the haunting music.

Suddenly, the platform came to an abrupt stop. The lights flickered off, replaced by the purplish glow that bathed the room in an unsettling hue. The woman’s voice declared, “Two.” Readers nerves returned, tension rising in her chest as her eyes flicked around uneasily. Sensing her fear, In-ho quickly grabbed her hand. “Come on,” he said firmly, leading her toward one of the rooms. Her heart raced as she followed, her cheeks flushing as his hand held hers. But as they neared the door, another group converged on the same target. Before she realized what was happening, a pair of hands shoved her back. She let out a startled squeal as she hit the floor, her breath knocked out of her. The two others rushed past her toward the door.

Hearing her cry, In-ho spun around. He immediately saw her on the ground and his eyes darkened. She scrambled to her feet, running toward the door, but one of the men had already slipped inside. His partner tried to follow, but In-ho intercepted him. Wrapping an arm tightly around the man’s neck, In-ho growled, “Get in!” to reader. She obeyed without hesitation, darting into the room, her breaths quick and unsteady. Relief washed over her, but it was short-lived. Inside the room stood another man, his presence immediately setting her on edge. In-ho shoved the second man out of the doorway, entering behind her. His expression was cold and intense as he turned to the remaining intruder.

“Get out,” In-ho demanded, his voice low and firm.

The man’s eyes darted between In-ho and reader before shaking his head defiantly. “We were here first,” he spat, referring to himself and the man In-ho had thrown out.

The timer began to beep, counting down from 18. There was no time to argue. In-ho lunged at the man, tackling him to the ground. The sudden banging on the door behind her made reader jump. Someone outside was trying to force their way in. She pressed against the door, struggling to hold it shut as fear gripped her.

“There are three people in here,” she thought frantically. “There can only be two.”

The woman’s voice continued counting down. “Seven… six…” The banging stopped as the person outside ran off, searching for another open room. She turned her attention back to In-ho and the other man, who were locked in a violent struggle.

“Five… four… three…” In-ho had the man in a headlock now, his grip unrelenting. Readers heart pounded as the scene played out before her. Her eyes big, filled with worry. And now fear.

“Two…”

With a sharp jerk of his arm, In-ho snapped the man’s neck. The sickening crack echoed in the small room. Reader gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as she stared at the lifeless body slumping in In-ho’s arms.

“One.”

A soft beep signaled the end of the round, and the door locked with a final click. The woman’s voice spoke again. “Game over.”

Readers wide eyes glistened with fear and disbelief as she looked at In-ho. He was still crouched on the floor, the dead man’s body at his feet. His dark eyes met hers, showing no remorse. Slowly, he stood, his expression softening slightly as he approached her. She instinctively took a step back, her body pressing into the corner of the room. “Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice low and cautious. “Just…” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just don’t say anything.” “I had to,” he said firmly, his tone unwavering.

“I know…” she replied in a barely audible voice.

In-ho stood directly in front of her now. His hand reached out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She flinched slightly at his touch, her fear still lingering. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. But he didn’t feel any regret, not at all.

All that was important is that she lived.

#front man squid game #squid game scenario #squid games x reader #squid game smut #squid game s2 #squid game spoilers #squid game season 2 #squid game #hwang in ho #front man #masterlist #part two

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mandalhoerian · 3 months ago

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(3) 🦭 signed, sealed, delivery pending...

The seal you rescued coming back to the same cove might be momentary serendipity meant to be wow-ed at from afar like one does a documentary, but you're determined to take it as an opportunity of a lifetime to gain his trust and prove yourself as a Disney princess. He's going to become your friend. Period.

genre: fluff, comedy | word count: 6K | read on ao3

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note: i need you guys to see this to visualize what the reader does when the grinch gets mentioned. i almost burst my appendix laughing at it idc if its not funny. please enjoy!!!!

You almost get grounded. For till college.

But being the center of attention in your friend group and the story of a wound that will leave the coolest scar are totally worth the perma ticket booth sentence (jail).

It's not all that bad. It's just that, instead of loading cargo or directing people or helping out the passengers, you got sentenced to boredom, stuck behind a window, taking payment and handing out change and never allowed to leave. Plus, everyone knows you. Which means that no, the ticket master metaphorically posing with a Yu-Gi-Oh duel disk can't give discounts to the old lady who brings you a crocheted hat, or to the fisherman who promises to bring a fresh catch of mackerel to your family's kitchen, or to the little girl who wants to go see the seals, has no cash and can only pay with a bag of homemade cookies...

Speaking of seals, you go back to that beach, a week after the incident when your grounding is more flexible.

But of course, there's no trace of that adorable rascal. You feel a little sad, a little disappointed, a little under the influence of the magical encounter that had you daydreaming you could be Snow White. Then again, you wouldn't want him to hang around in fishing areas. You hope he's doing alright, somewhere, hopefully, not getting caught in nets anymore.

Elias tells you that the seal colony on the islet has forms during breeding and pupping season each year during late spring and early summer, and when he hears you recounting the event and describing the seal, you find out that the one you saved is not one of them.

Apparently, pups are tiny. The one you rescued was either a juvenile or a sub-adult, though the gender is still unclear. You're a little stunned, having expected to have rescued a baby, not an adolescent. Elias explains how the rookery is a nursery area, and females tend to congregate there to give birth. Male seals are territorial and competitive, and often live in the surrounding waters. So maybe that seal was a male weaned off of the same rookery. If you had saved a female, the chances of ever seeing her again would have been higher, since they return to the same rookeries and stay there for a couple months. Males, on the other hand...

Well, at the end of the day, he's probably long gone.

Wrong.

You eventually encounter him on the same small cove the following week. In broad daylight this time.

Dad has hired a couple of staff members to help out, so you have a lot more free time to enjoy your friends and explore the archipelago. Despite the time restrictions. So, even though going back to where you met the seal for the first time was born out of hope to see him again at first, it's also about conveniennce with how close it is to home unironically, and therefore, not violating curfew rules.

So, it's just another day with your picnic basket and beach towel, heading out to the shore in your shorty wetsuit. You have a novel to finish, some music to listen to, snacks to munch on, and the promise of long-awaited solitude to savor.

You've just set up your blanket and opened the book when a loud bark scares the shit out of you.

Startled, you whip around to find the source of the sound — and gasp as a large, gray shape emerges from the water, lumbering towards you with clumsy bounces that echo with the 'boing, boing, boing' sound effect in your head, dragging its blubbery body across the sand and stopping at the edge of your blanket.

You can't quite comprehend what's happening right now, transfixed by the cute, pink tongue peeking out of its mouth as it tries to catch its breath.

It's the exact same seal from before, his familiar markings and the faint scars of the netting you untangled him from unmistakable.

The same seal that was supposed to have swam away to freedom. The same seal that's supposed to be a wild, feral, unpredictable animal is here, looking at you, waiting for something, making an occasional huff and snuffle the more you stay unresponsive.

You're frozen in place, unable to react, mind racing, trying to make sense of the situation. A part of you wonders if this is a dream, but the gritty sensation of the sand in your flippers that reminds you of your discomfort and the warm rays of the sun on your skin assure you otherwise.

Finally, the seal seems to grow impatient and shuffles closer, nuzzling his whiskered nose against your knee, the gesture somehow both gentle and insistent, coaxing you to react. His fur is damp and cool, and you swear his dark, round, limpid black eyes are staring straight into your soul, a knowing intelligence lurking within his soft, expressive depths.

"There's no way," you gawk, not knowing where to put your hands and they flail for a couple seconds in excitement.

He's approached you willingly, showing no signs of distress or aggression, and in fact, he seems oddly not on guard. He's not a pup, and yet he's displaying behavior that's more suited to domesticated dogs, not a marine mammal that's supposed to avoid humans. Seals are curious creatures by nature, and encounters with people aren't unheard of, but this level of familiarity is unusual considering the traumatic circumstances under which the two of you initially met.

"Hello, hi, oh my god, hi, hello???" You try cautiously, not daring to reach out and touch him, but keeping your tone soothing and welcoming. You're actually going to scare him off if you let out the squeals roaring inside. "How are you doing, buddy? Is that really you?"

The seal's whiskers twitch in response to the sound of your words, his head cocked to one side in a manner that suggests attentive listening. It's almost as if he recognizes your presence, and that thought sends a shivery thrill through you.

"You remember me?" you ask, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Your heart leaps as his head waves up and down. You choose to take that gesture as a yes instead of the air sniffing to vibe-check you that it actually is. "That's so sweet of you!"

A low, rumbling noise reverberates from deep within the seal's nose, and you can't help the giggle that escapes you. It sounds like a cross between a snort and a grumble, a strangely endearing combination that's distinctly his own.

"I'm not sure what to make of this," you continue, feeling more at ease in his company, despite the absurdity of the situation. "What are you doing here? Saw me and wanted to hang out?"

His only answer is a single, melodious yowl, followed by a series of chirps that resemble the playful squeaks of a dolphin. You can't help the warmth that spreads through you at the sound, a sudden fondness for the strange, gentle creature washing over you as he flops closer to lie just beside your blanket like you two are friends sitting next to each other, rolling onto his belly and stretching his front flippers in a leisurely, cat-like stretch. You're not a trained zoologist, but his behavior is clearly indicative of trust, and that's enough to convince you that the connection you feel isn't imagined. This is the most peculiar, wonderful surprise you've ever had. And the best part is that, in the middle of a summer vacation that had been filled with ups and downs, you have made an unlikely friend...

Oh, he's actually sunbathing. With you.

And his coat looks healthy. That's good.

The way his head looks when he closes his eyes... Like a content bean, a happy, satisfied little guy. So cute.

God, you can't pet him.

The seal expert in the island is Elias, who works with the conservation team on the rookery islet. Maybe someday, if things come to that, he could guide you, but for now, you're not risking harming him in any way. Especially not after rescuing him from a near-death experience.

He opens his eyes when he hears scratching. Particularly, you scratching along the seams of the bandages on your forearm. You haven't realized you had been unconsciously picking on them because of the itch till the moment the seal's penetrating stare burns on the area. How peculiar. He seems to possess object permanence regarding the injury and understand the concept of wounds, or at least the effects of them. Or are you delusional?

"Curious, huh," you say, pulling your hand back and flexing the muscles in the arm to relieve some of the irritation. "You remember this as well? It's your love bite, bud."

The seal makes a soft, inquisitive grunt, and then begins to inch his way across the sand to make it back to the sea, and a disappointment that makes your face fall down settles upon you at the prospect of him leaving already.

"Oh..." you mumble. "Leaving so soon?"

But the seal doesn't seem to be departing. Instead, he dives gracefully beneath the surface of the water, disappearing from view. Confused but intrigued, you remain seated, watching the rippling waves with bated breath. After several long, anxious moments, a silvery fish bursts forth from the depths, thrashing wildly in the seal's jaws. He bites down fiercely, severing the life of the fish in an instant and sending a spurt of blood into the salty brine. Then, he swims back to shore and boing-boing-boings over to deposit the lifeless prey at your feet, his tail slapping eagerly against the wet ground, dark, round, expressive wet eyes shining bright with pride and excitement.

It's a gift. You're certain of that. A token of gratitude, perhaps, or a symbol of camaraderie.

"Oh, thank you," you say, genuinely touched by the gesture. "You're such a gentleman. But I'm not hungry, so... Actually, do you want to share it together? Would that be okay?" You pause, studying the seal's reactions carefully. "Yeah, that's what we're doing."

With that, you reach for the fish, its cold, slippery scales slick against your palm, and break it in half with a fruit knife you brought along in your picnic basket, setting one portion aside and offering the other to the seal. He sniffs at the proffered meal, whiskers quivering, before opening his mouth to accept it. You watch in fascination as his powerful teeth tear into the flesh, marveling at the delicate balance of predator and companion that exists between the two of you. There's something about sharing a meal with a wild animal who caught it for you in the first place, that feels sacred. Ancient, and special.

"You know what, you can have my half, I’m really full," you concede, not being able to resist his eager gluttony. You decide to share with him since he shared with you, as well. "Sorry if I'm not much of a huntress, but here's a little treat that'll blow your mind. Hopefully." You start rummaging through your belongings, searching the contents of the basket. "Let's see, let's see... Aha! Here it is!"

When you turn around, you nearly jump out of your skin to find the seal right there behind you, looking at the basket curiously. He seems very interested in the container. Maybe he's figured out it contains food, somehow. Could seals smell through a plastic lid?

"Woah, woah, hey, easy," you murmur softly, reaching up to gently boop him on the nose and watch in fascination as his entire head disappears by sinking into his body at the contact.

Oh!

Oh no.

You're going to die. Cuteness overload. Right here, in front of him, and on this day. It's like his skull has disappeared and his blubbery neck absorbed his face into his torso. If the purpose is to protect himself from predators, that's not the vibe the gesture is giving. At all.

Holding the container of sashimi, you let him take a peek at the contents. When his nose starts wiggling and his tail starts flapping, you can't help the grin that breaks out. He seems to have understood that whatever is inside is edible, and his eagerness is infectious, sending a jolt of glee and satisfaction coursing through you at the thought of providing him with a new experience.

"Look, look, this is called sashimi," you explain, selecting a small piece of raw salmon and holding it out on your palm. The seal sniffs at the morsel tentatively, his nostrils flaring, before he darts his tongue out and wraps it around the slice of fish, pulling it into his mouth.

He's so gentle with it too, not even nipping at the flesh of the hand that's feeding him. Just a soft, light brush of his tongue, and a content, satisfied swallow, and the taste must have been to his liking, because he emits a low, throaty squeak of pleasure, a sound that sends a warm, fuzzy feeling fluttering through your chest. Has he been socialized at some point in the past to know how to take food from humans, maybe by fishermen or tourists? Is he simply a naturally affectionate creature? You fully expected him to be more cautious around humans given his recent trauma, and yet, here he is, demonstrating an openness that defies all expectations and assumptions.

"Well, you've got good taste," you remark with a chuckle, watching as his tail thumps excitedly on the sand, signaling for another serving. The sight of him making a 'begging' pose in the most literal sense melting your heart. "Fine, you can have it all. But only because you're so charming."

One by one, you feed the remaining pieces of sashimi to him, fascinated by the feel of his smooth, pink velvety tongue against your fingertips each time he accepts a bite one would being licked by a cat or a dog. His enthusiasm is contagious, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles up in your own throat, a bright, sparkling sound that rings across the deserted stretch of coastline and makes him perk up and look up at you, head tilted in curiosity, a sort of startled, wide-eyed, puppy-dog stare.

"Aw, sorry," you apologize, realizing that the volume of your laughter might have overwhelmed him. "I'm just happy. Happy to be here, with you. This is the best beach date I've ever had."

You watch, in real time, as the seal sputters from his nose, the recoil of his jiggling body rocking him backward and to the side as he avoids eye contact in a manner that parallels dogs when they’re being recorded, and finally decides to completely flee back to the sea.

You blink, speechless, trying to figure out what you did wrong.

"...Was my laugh that ugly?"

You are convinced this is a good idea.

You’ve seen the TikToks. You know the method. You’ve watched professionals do this with thousand-pound animals that could kick them into the next dimension, and it works.

And sure, your friend is technically a seal and not a horse, but the principle is the same. Desensitization. You introduce scary things in a safe, controlled way, and boom — no more spooky, jumpy reactions.

It’s foolproof.

If it has to be something like doing crazy dances with a plastic bag or throwing a duvet over their heads to trigger less anxiety, then so be it. There is logic and science behind this method, even though it requires you to humiliate yourself in front of a wild animal and hope that there isn't a secret camera hidden somewhere recording you acting like a clown and saving the clip online to become meme fuel.

"Alright, bud," you announce, stretching your arms like a coach psyching up a particularly useless team. "Today's the day."

If you expect anything resembling acknowledgment, the seal gives none; instead, he seems content to continue nibbling delicately at a lump of kelp, ignoring you completely while reclining on his side like a Victorian noblewoman on a fainting couch atop a sun-baked rock. His sleek gray coat glistens brightly as he sprawls across the stone, flippers twitching lazily as his attention wanders in search of tasty tidbits amongst the fronds of green algae still trailing from his mouth.

Seeing him this relaxed sends a wave of relief through you. Your relationship has improved exponentially since that first day the two of you officially met. He's grown noticeably more accustomed to interacting with you without showing any signs of fear or discomfort. You're no longer regarded with suspicion or alarm whenever you approach — instead, he welcomes you, greeting your presence with cheerful squeaks and soft snorts that always send warm fuzzies flying all across your cheeks. Not that you keep score, but lately, he's been initiating more interactions than before, nudging you with his nose, pawing gently at your leg to draw your attention, even resting beside you whenever he gets the chance, seeking comfort in your closeness in ways that leave you giddy with happiness.

"AAAA!" you shout, stretching your arms in a T-pose to make yourself look bigger.

The seal violently flops to the side, rolling down the small incline of the surrounding rocks like a giant, damp potato.

"Oh my god!" You rush to help him with choked laughter, kneeling at his side while he struggles to get his balance and reclines up on his flippers.

He shoots you the ugliest death glare.

"I'm sorry," you say, forcing your lips into a thin line to hold back your smile. "Was I too scary?"

The seal huffs sharply in response, causing a few loose strands of hair to fall over your face from the wind. Then he reaches his head forward, and slowly, deliberately, rubs his cheek against your bandaged forearm before flopping back down. It takes you several seconds to recover from the attack of cuteness, by which time the seal has rolled around again in the direction opposite of you so that only his round, puffy butt faces toward where you kneel in the sand.

Pouting. Definitely pouting. It's so adorable, did he get embarrassed? Ahhhhh!

You spend the next few minutes running around the seal and making unexpected movements like a drunk ostrich on sugar rush just to see how he'd react, following that up with a sorcerer in the middle of a magic attack combo with flicking jazz hands right to his face, then re-enacting that one scene from How the Grinch Stole Christmas in which the titular character tries to scare of Cindy Lou by barking at her face acting crazy in a little step forward-and-back dance with claw-hands, looking like you were about to attack him but faking him out at the last second.

Needless to say, you get nothing other than keen interest like you were a jester and he was the king sitting in the audience taking great pleasure in your performance, full-on radiating medieval royalty urge to always have entertainment while eating.

You decide to change tactics. Step one: Introduce the Object.

From your backpack, you pull out a bright blue towel and give it a dramatic shake.

“See this?” You wave it like a deranged matador. “It’s just a towel. Harmless. Normal. Not scary.”

His whiskers twitch. His head tilts slightly, like you’ve just shown him a complex tax form.

You wave it again, closer this time. “Ooooooo, look, it moooves. It flaps. It’s just fabric.”

Still no reaction.

Encouraged, you take a step closer, still waving the towel like you’re trying to summon a demon. “See? It’s fine. Totally normal. You don’t have to be scared.”

The seal makes a noise — something between a huff and a chirp.

Then he snorts.

You freeze.

Did… did this seal just laugh at you?

No. That’s ridiculous. Animals don’t laugh. You’re being paranoid.

Step Two: Make Contact.

“I’m just gonna touch you with it a little, okay?” you say in your best soothing horse-trainer voice.

He does not, in fact, agree to this.

But he also doesn’t move away as you gently drape the towel over his back.

Success!

Or at least, it is success, right up until you start rubbing the towel over him like you’ve seen in the videos, mimicking the slow, rhythmic motions that are supposed to be calming.

“Good boy,” you murmur, nodding approvingly. “See? Nothing to be scared of. Just a towel. A friendly, normal—”

The seal erupts.

One second, he’s still. The next, his entire body vibrates like a malfunctioning washing machine.

Then — he flops.

Not just any flop. A dramatic, full-body collapse into the sand, legs flailing, his head rolling back in what you can only describe as unhinged, wheezing laughter.

You just stand there, gripping the towel, watching this damn seal lose his mind.

He keeps snorting. His non-existent shoulders shake. He slaps the sand with one flipper, no different than an old man gasping for air between belly laughs.

You recoil. “Am I being fucking laughed at by a seal right now? Nah. Naaaah, that can't be.”

He lets out an actual honking noise.

Your face burns. “I am trying to help you, you little sea rat!”

A loud, loud crying. More slapping.

He is mocking you. This has to be mocking. Or is it that your own self-consciousness has finally manifested in the world and acquired a shape? Maybe that's why this feels like teasing; maybe you're projecting.

With a defeated sigh, you plop onto the sand beside him, still gripping the towel like it holds the last shreds of your dignity.

Well, at least you found out he is desensitized, alright. A win is a win.

The following weeks, the island's weather grows warmer. And, with the rising temperature, the seal's visits become more and more frequent, almost daily, until his company becomes a constant fixture of your free time.

It's a bizarre, inexplicable relationship that defies all reason and logic — that a seal would hop on land to come visit instead of being encountered while swimming. A wild marine mammal that should fear and distrust humans has decided to form a bond with you, seeking your presence out of his own accord, and showing an intelligence that goes beyond instinctual behavior.

At least, that's what you're inclined to believe. You're no expert. Just an observer of this delightful, unexpected friendship that has bloomed between the two of you.

You're not sure what draws him to the tiny, secluded cove where you've been meeting him, nor do you understand why he chooses to stay on the shore with you, sunbathing on the warm sands and indulging in the snacks and treats you bring him, rather than returning to the open ocean. But every time you arrive, he's there, waiting, a large, lumbering shape that barks and squeaks upon seeing you, waddling over to greet you as though you're an old friend.

His trust is a precious thing, a fragile, irreplaceable treasure that you cherish dearly. And, in return, he shows a level of affection that would put many a domestic animal to shame.

He nuzzles against your legs, rolls over to reveal his belly, and even allows you to touch and stroke the soft, supple fur on his head sometimes if he feels like it that day. It's a privilege, a gift, and you're acutely aware of the responsibility that comes with such intimacy. You handle him gently, cautiously, mindful of his comfort and well-being, and never pushing past the limits of his tolerance or patience.

You learn to read his cues, to recognize the signs of contentment and discomfort in his posture and vocalizations. When he's relaxed, his body language is loose, his limbs splayed out on the ground in a lazy, sprawling manner that suggests a deep, boneless ease. He grunts and chirps in a low, rhythmic cadence that seems to express his pleasure and satisfaction, and the sound is oddly soothing, a gentle, melodic counterpoint to the steady, pulsing rush of the waves crashing nearby. Snorts and snuffles are indicators of inquisitiveness and curiosity, while a high-pitched whistle signals excitement and happiness, often accompanied by an enthusiastic wagging of his tail that resembles the motion of a dog's. When he's upset or nervous, his entire body stiffens and he pulls away from your touch, a clear signal to give him space and respect his boundaries.

You're proud to say you haven't discovered his anger yet, but the day you walk in on a tourist group in your cove becomes the answer to your question.

This isn't the rookery. There are no guides or rangers to keep everyone in check. These tourists are on their own, exploring, and they have stumbled upon the wrong spot. They're being stupid, and the worst part is that they're not even breaking the law. The fact that the seal is in the water is enough not to be trespassing, and therefore, not punishable.

As you approach the crowd gathering around a particular spot, your heart clenches at the sight of your friend cornered into a small cave, no — more like a fissure in the rock formations that surround the cove, that reaches just ten meters from the shore.

These guys want a picture with the seal, which has gone hostile obvious from his jaw making snapping motions and is trying to dive back into the sea as far from them as possible.

It's all because he was waiting for you here.

There's nothing you can do other than run towards them. And maybe distract them by waving your arms frantically and screaming, "What the hell are you doing?! Didn't you see the sign that says this area is private?!"

You know lecturing them about how they're causing distress to the animal is futile, so, Karen-mode it is.

Surprisingly, it works, and they run off. But not before complaining and whining about how "there's no fucking harm in this".

Sure, asshole. There’s no harm in distressing the poor seal that shows obvious signs of wanting to be left alone.

After taking care of them (read: screaming at them) and calling Elias to come get rid of them, you rush back to the beach to make sure your seal is okay.

He won't look at you.

If there's anything you learned the hard way is that a wild animal never acts erratically without reason, whether it be a bird pecking insistently at a window or a rabbit darting across the road when you least expect it. So it stands to reason that if your companion completely ignores you as he makes it out of the cave and makes a beeline towards the sea, he must have a valid cause for doing so.

Maybe you were too close to these strangers, maybe your intimidation and aggression were too much for him.

You hope he knows you'd never put him in danger willingly.

"Wait," you call out after him, raising your hand above your head to attract his attention and willing your frantic heartbeat to settle back down into a normal rhythm. You don't want to frighten him further by shouting or running up behind him, chasing him down — the last thing you need is to scare him off altogether after working so hard to gain his trust.

To your amazement, he actually pauses, hovering midway between the cave and the water, hesitating, glancing warily back at you over his shoulder. It's eerie sometimes that he reacts how a human would, but also quite remarkable. You're positive it means he understands you, that your interactions carry meaning for him.

But now that he's stopped, you don't know what to say. Hey, sorry some jerks scared the shit out of you. I don't know them. Please don't think I lured them here to you.

Why would you have this conversation with a seal?

So, you walk up slowly to the spot where he still stands, and then sit down crosslegged next to him on the sandy rocks that divide land from sea, trying to appear nonthreatening and reassuring in equal measure. For several long, excruciating moments, the only sounds are the distant cries of seagulls overhead, the restless rustle of the surf rushing back and forth against the shore, and your own breathing growing faster the longer the silence stretches on.

He allows you to remain there, and doesn't delve back into the waters either, so that's something. You still have his trust. You could also cry about still having his trust. What a wonderful being.

"I'm sorry," you offer tentatively, hoping that the note of sorrow ringing through your words will convey the depth of regret behind those two simple syllables. "They weren't supposed to come here."

His round, wet nose twitches rapidly, whiskers bobbing with every flicker and flutter, his sleek, blubbery body shifting subtly from side to side. His tail slaps the sand in a frenzy, kicking up sprays of loose soil and scattering fragments of seashells in all directions. "Gegh!" he screams all of a sudden, making you jump. "Ggighphh!"

"Okay, I hear you," you reassure him hastily. "Next time I'll yell at them harder."

"Gyeeaaagh..."

"Uh huh, that's better. I hear you."

"Greph, l'egg!"

"Do you forgive me?"

"Miphhh."

"Oh, you’re so sweet…”

A week passes before you try to meet him again, giving him ample time to recover.

He never reappeared when you came by alone to the cove after your usual duties ended — you began wondering if maybe the incident left him traumatized, too sensitive to want to risk further confrontation — but there's a sense of relief in knowing that he hasn't abandoned you entirely.

When you step onto the beach one morning, bright and early before the sun has fully risen above the horizon, his dark shape emerges from the waves to greet you once more, shambling awkwardly across the pebbles as though eager to confirm your presence, and your heart absolutely leaps at seeing him back.

Something about this meeting feels different than before, there's a rush in his mannerisms that wasn't there previously, and as he approaches, you notice his head is uncharacteristically held low. It reminds you of a child who has something important to say but doesn't know how, or dare, to begin talking.

He stops just a few feet away from where you're standing, staring resolutely at the ground instead of maintaining direct visual contact, and remains completely silent save for an occasional chirrup that seems directed inward more than toward you.

"Hey, buddy," you begin softly, afraid to disturb the quiet. "How've you been? Long time no see. Missed ya, little rascal."

He explodes with an accusing, "Ya!" and smacks his front flipper on the sand as punctuation. The sneeze that follows is rough. "Hphaaa — mmphm..."

"Ohhkay, wow, someone sure is pissed today," you raise a brow.

He doesn't like that.

And for the first time, you witness a temper tantrum from him.

He barks loudly, tail flapping and nostrils flaring in frustration as he tosses himself back and forth across the sands, flopping wildly, kicking his finned tail and letting out shrill cries of outrage whenever you start approaching closer. Even as you stand a safe distance away, he continues to glare balefully up at you, snuffling and squealing disapprovingly as though offended that you're even present during such an intense bout of sulking.

Witnessing the rare display of bad humor has your shoulders shaking uncontrollably in fits of giggles despite the fact that he's acting irrationally, which is kind of rude from your end because obviously it can't be funny from his. But when you manage to contain yourself and regain some semblance of composure, you notice that his dramatic display has evolved into something more reminiscent of theatrics of an overgrown puppy trying its hardest to prove its ferociously cute point, and not the primordial rage fit that you thought initially. His face is scrunched up as if stuck halfway between a yawn and a grimace; his eyelids squeezed tightly shut while his mouth gapes wide open, showing off rows of sharp, deadly teeth and pink gums.

It's such a hilarious sight, such a ridiculous pose, that before you know what you're doing, you're reaching down to tickle under his chin lightly — unable to quench down your need to pet and coo at him despite his obvious agitation — and surprise surprise, instead of biting off your entire arm clean off, he goes still beneath your fingers for a moment.

"Oh you're such a cute baby boy. Cute, silly baby. You've got anger issues, mister, huh? Yes, yes, yes, who's the toughest seal ever, huh? Who's the cutest, most adorable seal in the whole wide world?"

To your amazement, he lets you do it, humming softly in response to the gentle rubs and pats, his body relaxing under your ministrations until eventually he closes his eyelids altogether and allows you to continue petting him without interruption or complaint, emitting low growls of contentment in place of displeasure.

"Aw... You missed me that much? Don't worry, I'm not gonna leave ever again unless you ask." Getting to pet him — ever, for the matter — wasn't exactly something planned, so you were bending at the waist, but the way this is going smoothly, you end up sitting down to keep doing it. You smile fondly at the way his gray, dry fur (which indicates he's been on land for a good while) bristles outward beneath your fingertips. "Beautiful, beautiful baby boy. So handsome! Yup, yup, yup..."

Suddenly, his whole body goes rigid.

Then, abruptly, without warning, he moves like a missle, rolling himself onto his side so that he's facing you directly, twisting his torso toward you with unexpected agility, and rests the topmost part of his torso against yours, nuzzling his head along your neck gently. With a start, you realize what he's attempting to do: hug you.

As soon as you comprehend the significance of what is happening, you throw your arms around his broad, muscular form in return and lean forward instinctively, returning the embrace eagerly despite the awkwardness of the angle due to his size relative to your own physique.

"Ghiilaghiiii," he drawls out, the vibrations rumbling deeply inside of him resonating throughout your body in waves until they reach every corner of your being and gets you almost dizzy with elation. "Phyaaaaaaggghhieeeeeehgllll..."

Is it normal to be in tears after such an action? Because here you go. This seal has missed you, wanted a hug and made sure to deliver. How wonderful life is.

"I missed you more, you lovely angel. Thank you for wanting my company still," you sniffle happily into his fluffy coat, inhaling the musky scent of saltwater mixed with fresh sea spray that surrounds him like an invisible cloud. He should smell like fish or algae, but weirdly, he smells nice. And clean. How does a mammal even manage to get this fragrant when living in water? It shouldn't make any sense whatsoever, especially considering how much time he spends in the surf each day yet manages not to get sticky or covered in crusty buildups of dried plankton like most seals tend to develop after spending prolonged periods submerged undersea. "I'm so happy you don't hate me and decided to stay. I thought I had scared you away forever..."

He makes a sound like blowing raspberry at you, whacking his nose against your collarbone roughly enough that you wince inwardly but refrain from complaining aloud, not wishing to discourage him from enjoying the contact.

"Can I stroke you right here as well?"

You know he knows what's going on because he gives an approving hoot at your inquiry, tilting his head upwards against yours momentarily before resting it back atop your collarbones, letting loose a series of joyful chittering noises that sound distinctly like laughter. If nothing else convinces you of his intelligence then this certainly does the trick. An ordinary wild animal wouldn't react in such an interactive way nor would it care enough about interacting with another species unless desperate or curious, yet he has chosen to engage with you consistently since the two of you met all those weeks ago.

"Who is a good little cutie pie? Who is my gorgeous little sweetheart?"

This is probably getting overboard, but he clearly enjoys it based upon how excitedly he flops about while getting fussed over, his long tail beating happily against the sand each time you speak praise unto him in the rythym of your pets. Clearly delighted by this sudden affectionate assault, he bounces and chirrups playfully whenever you pause between complimenting him, eager to receive attention regardless if he comprehends fully the meaning behind it.

Eventually, though, things become less amusing for you due to the amount of strength needed for you to maintain both the position as well as support his huge head (noticing it was very dense and surprisingly heavier than it looked), forcing you to eventually call timeout.

However, before letting him free completely from the hug, you decide to give him a kiss on the nose that instantly turns your insides into mush as you see him close his giant, round, glistening black eyes for a fraction of second like a cat would before blinking them open again, gazing deeply straight into yours and holding your stare.

And proceeds to sneeze directly into your face.

"Thanks. Now we're officially best friends," you proclaim solemnly while wiping spit off your face.

You name him Raf.

You're not entirely sure how you came up with the name, to be honest. Maybe you overheard a tourist saying a variation of 'Raf' or 'Rat' or something similar and subconsciously picked it up from there? Who knows? The only thing you remember is that one moment you were teasing him about naming him 'Crybaby' -- 'BB' for short, and the next you hear yourself muttering 'Raf' out loud like something within your brain clicked. Like it was whispered right into your ear.

When you said it aloud for the first time, Raf perked up so intensely that you realized instantly the name was perfect for him. There was no doubt whatsoever — this was his name. A fitting, powerful one for such a gentle spirit that just happens to sound like a person's name.

But of course, when asked, you say it's short for riff-raff.

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bambieyedoll · 2 months ago

Text

HOLD ME, CONSOLE ME .・。.・゜✫・゜・。.

summary: when a beautiful day at the beach takes a terrifying turn, embry’s only focus is keeping you safe. caught between panic and desperation, he shows just how fiercely —and tenderly— he loves you.

pairing: embry call x fem!reader

word count: 1,4k

warnings/notes: mentions of an asthma attack, angst followed by fluff, comfort writing, short one shot, embry being super sweet and supportive.

masterlist | check out my other work !

the sun hung low over la push, a bright, burning disk in a cloudless sky, bleeding gold and orange into the horizon. the air was heavy —almost syrupy— and clung stubbornly to every inch of your skin, trapping the heat against you no matter how many times the ocean breeze kissed your face.

the beach was alive with laughter and shouting, the pack roughhousing and teasing one another near the bonfire pit. you sat on a worn, sun-bleached towel just beyond the ruckus, your legs stretched out in front of you, your arms braced behind you in the warm sand. you smiled as you watched paul and jared wrestle nearby, kicking up a storm of sand, their shouts of mock outrage echoing over the surf.

embry’s arm was slung lazily around your shoulders, his bare skin burning warm against yours. his hand draped loosely along your arm, fingers drawing absentminded circles against your heated skin, like he wasn’t even aware he was doing it. but you knew better —embry always needed to be touching you, even if it was the smallest brush of fingers. like he needed to constantly reassure himself you were here, real, his.

you leaned into him, savoring the familiar weight of him against your side, the low rumble of his voice as he laughed at something seth shouted across the fire. everything should have been perfect. it was perfect —the kind of easy, golden afternoon you wanted to bottle up and keep forever.

but under your skin, a quiet warning buzzed.

the thick, sticky air pressed harder into your chest with every breath. you shifted uncomfortably, brushing your damp hair off your forehead, trying not to let it show —but the small, shallow gasps of air weren’t cutting it. a tight, invisible band had started wrapping itself around your ribs, squeezing slowly, mercilessly.

you smiled up at embry anyway, stubbornly. you didn’t want to ruin today. you didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, not when everyone was laughing, not when embry looked so happy.

“you okay?” embry murmured low against your hair, his voice dipping into something quieter, more serious. he must’ve felt the slight tension in your body, the way you leaned away from him just slightly, struggling to find space to breathe.

you nodded a little too quickly. “just… hot,” you said, waving your hand vaguely at the sun overhead, pretending to be casual.

but embry’s eyes narrowed, his instincts sharper than anyone else’s when it came to you. his thumb paused against your arm. his whole body stilled.

then, when you tried to draw in another breath —and hit that invisible wall inside your chest— panic flared in your belly. you tried again, forcing air through the tightening in your throat, but your lungs gave a desperate, whimpering wheeze.

your hands trembled uselessly at your sides.

“baby?” embry said sharply, already half rising. his voice cut through the pack’s chatter like a knife. you managed to meet his eyes —dark, frantic, already reading you like a book— and that was all it took. embry was moving before you could even get a word out.

“hey! shut up a sec!” he barked at the others, his voice carrying over the sand. immediately the noise died down, every head snapping toward the two of you, the easy smiles fading as they caught sight of your pale, stricken face.

embry dropped to his knees in front of you, shielding you with his body, his hands hovering helplessly in the air like he wasn’t sure where to touch first. his hands were shaking. embry call — solid, unshakable, reckless embry— was shaking.

“sweetheart, look at me,” he said firmly, voice low and trembling with restrained panic. “you’re okay. you’re just having an asthma attack. you’re okay. i got you.”

you tried to nod but it was pathetic —just a jerky little twitch of your head— and a tear slipped from the corner of your eye. you hated this. hated how helpless it made you feel.

your chest spasmed again, and the sound that ripped from your throat —a thin, gasping cough— made embry flinch like he’d been stabbed.

“where’s your inhaler?” he demanded urgently, already snatching up your bag with shaking hands and tearing through it.

you tried to point weakly, but embry was faster, ripping through your things like a man possessed until his fingers closed around the familiar plastic inhaler. relief flashed across his face, but it was fleeting —he was all business now, focused entirely on you.

“okay, baby, here,” he murmured, bringing the inhaler to your trembling lips with heartbreaking gentleness. his other hand cradled the back of your head, supporting you like he thought you might shatter. “breathe out first… that’s it. now a puff—good girl. slow. just little breaths.”

you tried. you tried so hard. you pushed the little air you had left out of your burning lungs, then closed your lips around the mouthpiece as he pressed down.

the first puff rushed into your mouth, cool and sharp, but it barely made a dent in the panic clawing at your ribs.

your body jerked with another violent cough, and embry caught you, hauling you carefully against his chest, supporting your entire weight like it cost him nothing. he crouched there in the sand with you half in his lap, murmuring low, soothing things against your temple.

“you’re doing so good, sweetheart. i’m right here. just breathe for me.” he whispered over and over, like a prayer. “i got you. i’m not letting go.”

another puff. another shaky, shallow inhale.

slowly, so slowly, the tight band around your lungs loosened. a tiny, rattling breath slipped in. then another. still shallow. still raw. but enough.

embry held you the whole time, never moving, never letting your body slump or your head droop without catching you. his touch was everywhere —a hand stroking your back, his breath against your hair, his thumb brushing tears off your cheeks.

the world beyond him —the beach, the pack, the bonfire— faded into background noise. there was only embry. only the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek and the low, frantic whisper of his voice:

“you’re safe. i promise. you’re safe.”

when you could finally, finally draw a breath without gasping, embry eased the inhaler from your hands, setting it carefully in the sand beside him, never breaking contact for a second.

you clung to him, exhausted, feeling the aftershocks of the attack rattle through your limbs.

embry kissed the side of your head, rocking you gently. “you scared the hell outta me,” he breathed. his voice cracked around the words, raw with everything he was too scared to say. “but you’re so strong, sweetheart. so damn strong.”

you blinked up at him, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, and managed a hoarse whisper: “i’m sorry.”

embry’s face twisted like the words physically hurt him. he cupped your face between his big, calloused hands and leaned in so close you could feel the brush of his breath against your lips.

“don’t you ever apologize for this,” he said. his brown eyes fierce and shining. “you hear me? none of this was your fault. you’re perfect.”

the tears finally spilled over, and embry caught them too, brushing them away like they were precious things. he kissed your forehead, your temple, the corners of your eyes —frantic, desperate kisses like he couldn’t quite believe you were still here to kiss at all.

“you just rest now, baby,” he whispered, rocking you slightly against his chest. his hands never stopped moving —one smoothing up and down your back, the other curling protectively around your waist. “i’m gonna take care of you. i swear it. you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

and you believed him.

you let yourself sink into the safe, solid warmth of him, breathing in the scent of salt and embry and home, letting your body relax against his strong frame. you felt him murmur something else against your hair, so soft you almost missed it.

“i love you. god, i love you so much.”

maybe you were too weak to answer. maybe you didn’t need to. because embry held you like he already knew.

and for the rest of the night, long after the others drifted back to their cars and the bonfire burned low, embry didn’t let you go. not once.

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milkbobatyun · 8 months ago

Text

a ghost of his past

pairing: dan heng x reader

genre: angstober, events

summary: even in his dreams, his past haunts him.

word count: 630

a/n: which clown pulled for dan heng IL just because his design was really pretty? totally not me !! n e ways take this attempt at a dan heng fic.

the gentle, quiet melody of the CD was seeping into the sleeping quarters of the astral express. its inhabitants were deep in sleep. suddenly, with a horrid screech, it halts. an unnerving silence settled over the sleeping quarters. when the disk starts revolving again, a haunting xiaozhou melody sings from the player.

dan heng lies asleep in his bed, where he finds himself in his own dreamscape. a ghost of a figure haunts his, no, dan feng’s dreams.

they stare into his soul with lifeless eyes, silent in their approach.

even without the memories of his past lives, he knew who you were. his lover. or rather, dan feng’s. his gentle, beautiful lover, who offered him unconditional affection, who was always so understanding of him.

you, whose soft hands brushed at his tears when they fell, massaged away the headaches that accompanied the arduous role of being a high elder.

your love story was spread far and wide in the xianzhou. many children and young couples aspired to have such a fantastical and romantic love. the two of you were the envies of all lovers. the citizens watched as their high elder, always so cold and judicial in his mannerisms, would soften and gaze at you with the warmest look in his eyes, how the fearsome dragon elder became but a mere puppy in your presence.

in danheng’s fragmented dreams, short films of your love played before him, reminding him of every tender moment. times where you were his sole supporter and believer. the seconds of eternity where you would sneak into his office, a boxed lunch, fresh from the stove, cradled in your hands.

the dreams were bright and warm, like the soft touch of spring, flowers booming in his chest.

the fragile flowers, their buds just beginning to bloom, are swallowed by the cold touch of frost, the lively blooms blackening and withering.

in danheng’s fragmented nightmares, he caught glimpses of your demise. your warped screams echo in his mind, bloody hands clawing at the hem of his coat. he hears your voice, begging for mercy.

the nightmares were cold and lonely, like ice seeping into his veins, cutting into his soul and heart.

as he dreams, blade’s voice echoes in his mind.

“you always knew the price better than any of us.” he hissed, his voice a serpent’s hiss, slithering in his thoughts. “that’s why you sacrificed her.”

“you killed her, for the sake of your planet.” blade taunted, his laugh grating in danheng’s ear. “YOU KILLED HER, WITH YOUR OWN TWO HANDS.”

dan heng squeezed his eyes shut, the blackness of his dreamscape pressing in on him, suffocating him. he covered his ears with his hands, tugging and clawing at his hair, to get your echoing screams out of his mind.

he felt a warm liquid running between his fingers. dan heng held his trembling hands in front of him, watching as blood stained his hands, the bloody spear gripped with shaking fingers.

kneeling by his feet was your lifeless body, a bloody hole where your heart should be. your eyes are fixed ahead, mouth contorting into words that cut his heart deeper than any sword.

“dan feng. how could you.” you breathed, eyes swimming with hurt. “i thought you loved me.”

with a start, dan heng woke from his dreams. the xianzhou lullaby ceases.

drawing his knees up to his chest, dan heng presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“spare me, please,” dan heng pleads to the empty room. “let me forget my past.”

no one responds, but in the depths of his mind, he seems to hear a soft whisper.

“i’m sorry…please don’t forget me.”

the room was silent, but the weight of his past lay burdened on dan heng’s mind.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳) © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

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brightgoat · 1 year ago

Note

ok I have to argue about gold experience and requiem being different stands, along with puccis stands. Like echos, requiem is a new act. It still the same stand, only the arrow allowed it to evolve based on the user's desire, aka Girnos desires for diavilo to never reach the arrow. Only one soul can have a stand.

As for puccis stand, when green baby fused with him, white snake was still there. You can see in c-moons design that it looks like green baby wrapped around white snake. And thanks to achieving heaven it gained new power. You can even see in eyes of heaven, that even when dio achieved heaven, the world is still the same, just gaining a new abilty.

I also have to argue that Burning Down the House and Weather report can't be in the realm of stands beacuse their still with emprio, house beacuse emprio is still alive, and weather beacuse he is stuck in the disk with emprio.

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the-onelol · 2 years ago

Text

"God of War" Seth x "God of the Moon" Reader (Ennead) Pt. 1

========================

Seth attended one of Ra's meetings, he expected it to be the same boring announcements she makes every now and then.

But this time when he entered the hall he was greeted by someone standing in the middle of the gigantic hall, to be judged.

A God with a falcon mask and a huge disk on top stood in the middle of the gigantic hall, braving against Ra's absolute dominance.

"Is that all, Ra?" The God with the Falcon mask asked as if he was determined to leave already.

Seth quietly made his way next to Nephthys.

He pointed at the strange scene happening and asked, "What's going on?"

Nephthys sighed and questioned, "You know great uncle Khonshu?" Seth nodded. "He's going to leave."

His eyes widened with shock but the mask covering his face covered it, but the way his voice echoed around the hall did not. "What?!"

Seth's voice echoed in the large hall of judgment, taking the attention off the God of the Moon, Khonshu.

"Hm?" The God, Khonshu whom Seth thought was being judged, but was instead leaving turned his head to look for the source of the sound.

Nephthys looked away from Seth and acted as if she did not know the man, silently sighing inside her head.

And Seth looked around as if he wasn't the one who just shouted.

Ra snickered, taking the attention off whatever just happened, and teased Khonshu. "Awe, leaving so soon? Don't you even miss me?"

(Khonshu pov)

"Absolutely not." You were determined to leave already after hearing about your banishment. You were sure spending more time with Ra has to be deteriorating your mind.

"Don't you want to meet your grand-nephews who I'm pretty sure don't know you?" Ra asked as she sat on her throne with her head resting on her hand.

You repeated your previous answer. "Absolutely not."

"Suit yourself then."

"Goodbye, my dearest Khonshu." She said with affection lacing her voice. You, in turn, looked at her with disgust but your mask hid it from her, but the way she snickered made you think she just saw your expression.

With a sigh, you turned your back on her and silently made your way towards the exit. You were one step away from the exit when Ra opened her mouth again and said the following words, that stopped you from exiting quickly.

"The doors to Ennead will always be open for you."

You turned your head over your shoulder and said, "Close it the fuck up." While you were turning your head again to look in front, did you see Seth with his mouth wide open, shocked, baffled, and extremely impressed.

Your gaze only lasted for less than a second, but Seth felt the way your eyes scanned him. As if you were dissecting him.

When you finally opened the door to exit the hall, Seth realized that was the first and last time he would see you for a while.

========================

Seth has tried for each night for many thousands of years to try and summon you, call for you, anything to interact with you. But all of them failed. But still, he never stopped trying, much to his brother's dismay.

You were growing tired of his pestering, and you left Ennead to not deal with useless things, but perhaps you should've just stayed if it meant Seth would not bother you at all.

He gave up trying to summon you, but instead replaced it with stories of his days, from his hunting with his son to his thoughts about his family. Treating you as if you were some diary of some sort.

Their son sometimes did it as well, albeit less than both his parents. From his love for his mother to his idolization for his father. The boy's stories amused you the most, the way his stories were a bit more unreal than how his father told them made you chuckle.

His wife also did it, she rambled each Sunday about how adorable Anubis was and how cute Seth was around her.

One night she seemed down, her stories were not as lively, and her eyes didn't gaze at the moon with pure adoration, but instead, she gazed at the moon as if she was asking for forgiveness.

"I love them very much, what I did was wrong I know...if I were to tell them the truth...would they find it in their heart to forgive me?"

========================

A few years passed, but it seemed to pass by with not much of a problem. Everyone seemed to have heard about the family treating you as a diary and they started to do it too. Making you scratch your head in annoyance.

Ra did it once but seeing how the moon turned pure black suddenly she didn't do it anymore.

========================

Perhaps it was because you didn't sleep for a few nights, or perhaps it was the boredom coming to give you hallucinations to keep you entertained.

But was Seth being raped by his own brother?

You waved the thought off your mind, but the way Seth, The God of War, Seth cried made you doubt if this really was a hallucination.

--------------------------------------

Seth escaped Osiris's grasp and ran outside to try and run away from his 'Brother'. He was crying, he didn't know he was crying. Perhaps he couldn't feel it or think about it when he was running away from his so-called 'Brother'.

"You bastard..." Seth gasped out as he tried to cover himself up, feeling sick down to his stomach.

Osiris said nothing and tried to reach Seth but was stopped by a pure white spear.

"What the fuck are you doing Osiris? Have you gone so low as to touch your own brother against his will?"

A familiar voice asked. A voice Seth was oh so unfamiliar yet familiar with. He had only heard it once, but he made sure to never forget it.

"Do not meddle with my problems, Khonshu."

You put your hands in the air "I'm not meddling with yours," Making Seth's heart drop. You pointed at Seth who was shivering, "I'm meddling with his."

========================

"You know, if I knew that saving you would cause the death of thousands, I wouldn't have saved you."

"But you did."

"Unfortunately, I did."

Seth tilted his head, and the strands of his hair followed suit. "Will you finally stop me, after many years?" He asked as his eyes turned into what you think, resembles crescent moons.

"No." You answered as you sat down on a seat right across from him seemingly to be put there just for you.

"Well, why are you here then?" He asked as he slurred his words.

"Checking on you."

"Why?"

"Your child, Anubis was it? Told me about your conditions."

His eyes widened at your words, as he sat up and asked shakily. "Anubis? Do you know where he is now?"

Your eyes scanned his face if the worry in his voice matched the expression on his face. The worry on his face doesn't match the Seth everyone talks about, the selfish, killing machine, and absolute maniac Seth.

But this was someone else. The Seth that Nephthys always seemed to boast about while they were married, the Seth that cares about his family. She always rambled about this side of Seth on full moons as if she were talking with you.

You visited her one night, but that's a story for another time.

You sighed, "I'm not sure if this is your child, he seems to be out of it." with a snap of your fingers a child entered the room filled with the smell of alcohol.

Not wasting a second, Seth the God of War stood up and ran to hug the boy. "Anubis!"

Your eyes scanned the boy's expression and whispered to yourself. "That's not Anubis..."

"Well, whatever..."

"...Whatever makes this madman happy for now."

========================

(A few years pass by)

"Great uncle! Can you teach me more moves?"

"Stop following me Horus."

---------------------------------------

"Great uncle, can you tell me more stories about your adventures?"

"Not you too Anubis..."

========================

They kept pestering you, and you were not having it. A light bulb lit up in your head. There is only one place they would both avoid,

Seth's temple.

"So tell me, oh great and amazing Khonshu, what are you doing here?" Seth asked playfully as he patted the seat beside him, motioning the you to take a seat with him.

You shook your head to decline and answered him honestly, "Your nephew and your child keep bothering me in my temple."

"And this is the only place they would both avoid." You grumbled.

Silence filled the intoxicated room until Seth suddenly opened his mouth.

"Did you know that I rambled to you a long time ago? As if you were some sort of a diary."

You stayed silent for a second, "I do."

He stood up and asked, "Do you remember all of them?"

You were feeling a bit in danger with how his mask suddenly started to form on his head. You chuckled a bit and answered honestly "I do."

He started walking towards you and asked, "Do you know why I did them?"

"No." You answered honestly. You stayed seated, curious as to what Seth would do.

He stopped right in front of you and said, "Because I wanted to annoy you." You raised your eyebrow at him, "To try and summon you to stop me from annoying you."

He kneeled in front of you and took your hand, "I wonder why you never stopped me..."

You took your hand away from his if he were to suddenly stand up you would be out of there. "Know your boundaries."

He stood up, you were going to run away but the sands suddenly chaining your hands stopped you.

"You're intoxicated you bastard." You tried to reason.

He ignored your words as one of his hands gripped your chin and the other gripped your mask as he mumbled. "How do you look under that mask, Khonshu..."

"Great uncle?"

========================

(In my head khonshu is like on of Ra's direct descendant)

(also the osiris scene is after osiris gave seth, anubis's godhood)

#seth x reader #ennead #ennead x reader #ennead seth x reader #horus x reader #anubis x reader #ennead horus x read #ennead anubis x reader #ennead seth #ennead horus #ennead anubis #ennead nephthys #nephthys x reader #ennead nephthys x reader

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laughhardrunfastbekindsblog · 9 months ago

Text

Bad Batch Underrated Hilarious Moment #382

"Where'd the disks go? And where's Omega??" Echo asks in concern.

"Found her," Tech replies, casual and chill as all get out, pointing to their little sister running alone across a heavily-guarded restricted area while holding illegally forged government documents.

(As an aside, I love that Tech somehow instantly knows where to first start looking for Omega - Echo says she's missing and Tech immediately turns around to check outside through the viewport)

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb tech #tbb echo #tbb omega #tech + echo sibling dynamics/banter is the best #hilarious moments

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minzart · 25 days ago

Text

New dimension who disks? (2)

Ao3 - Prev

Tfp Decepticons & Bcbc-final-form-Reader(GN)

After being transported to this new dimension you met one new bot you don't quite recognize, red and vain, and a far more confident version of your Breakdown

Walking down the giant hallway of this dimension Nemesis was not so different than Shockwaves tower, nor the main building of Cybertrons capital, it was more... empty tho, and you thought Shockwaves tower of solitude was a desert, your steps echoing in the long hall as you jog along Strascream

The silver seeker being comanded to escort you to med bay, much to his annoyance, was nostalgic to you, apparently it might be a Starscream universal trait to disguise his interest with disgust

Your perpetual smile unnerves the comander, how can a human be so relaxed around decepticons is beyond him, his posture is proper, full height, he thought your bravado might have been a consequence of... whatever you had going on with your dimensions Megatron, but apparently not

You look around the hallway, robotic half of your face taking notes and creating a map of the place, you are not as helpless as you once were, but you aren't an overconfident fool either, if they could not keep up with your mood swings and truth, if they turned on you, then you will be damned if you didn't had an escape plan by then

"So..." his screchy voice echoes " "Decepticon doctor" if I may be so bold, how did you acquired such... title?"

"Wasn't my title list self-explanatory enough for you?" You hum, still looking foward

"Indulge me" he grumbles, red optics analyzing your every move

"It is a long story, more than two hours"

"Oh we have plenty of time, I doubt you would be going anywhere so soon" he chuckles maliciously, his master didn't say anything of keeping the little... thing, comfortable, a scare would surely knock you down a few pegs

You look at him now, expressionaless, the same features as you had when jumping Megatron, and that makes the seeker square up, servos flexing, preparing for a fight, he would not face the same humiliation the bumbling bofoon had suffered from this punny little thing

Noting his change of stance, your features soften, and a small smile graces your lips, chuckling softly " you wouldn't believe me..."

You both had stopped in front of a circular metal door, Starscream relaxes a bit "as I said, indulge me"

Slowly, he inputs the code of access, preferring that to buy some time eager to learn a bit of this mystery before anyone else, or your doom

"I guess, somehow, I endeared myself to you"

"You what-?" And he hits the last imput, not noticing your eyes never left the screen he tipes in

"- so you better head back before- Comander Starscream" a soft strong voice salutes you both as the door opens, releasing his servos from the screen he held, ending a call he was obviously making "how may I help?"

"Breakdown" he says, but the seekers' eyes bounce between the assistant and yourself, catching on how your features light with recognition "where is Knockout?"

"He is already coming, comander, had to... attend matters in storage"

"I'm sure he had" Starscream rolls his optics, already preparing for a headache if Soundwave decides to be cruel today and rat him out to Megatron

"Whats with the... human?" the blue mech asks, curiosity in his optics clear as days

"They are a..." his gaze pierces you, cautiously waiting for you to say anything "temporary guest"

"Guest..." Breakdown crosses his arm "didn't knew we had those-"

"It's good to know that a version of you has such confidence" the human talks, making Breakdown jump, yellow optics locking in you, finaly noticing how... metallic this human seems to be

"Do we know each other?" He asks

"And isn't that the question" Starscream chirps in, entering med bay and choosing a corner to watch the exchange, processor running "this little thing claims to come from another dimension, if you would belive it"

"I do" you smile smugly at them

"Alegedly" he retorts

Turning to Breakdown, you answer his question "and yes, we know eachother from where I came from, I saw you be made actualy, helped even"

Starscream wings fluter in curiosity, Breakdown tilts his head, you add another similarity to their mannerisms to your newest list of research

"What?" The huge mech asks

"Cybertron was developing new life?" The seeker adds

"Not by itself, my Breakdown was a race car before being build and molded with living metal"

"And you helped?" Starscream instigate, with the same eager look yours have when the scientist in him kicks in "how?"

"Modifieing, finding new parts, keeping him in top shape before bringing him to Vector Sigma"

"Vector what?"

"The super computer.... isn't that how you bots are formed in this dimension?"

"Hm... have you heard of the well of the allspark?"

"So it is diferent, fascinating..." then an idea forms in your head, this could cost your head but since when did your life has ever been without costs? Before the decepticons does not count "is there... any other way of reproduction?"

"Not besides Primus... and no, nothing of the sort of... ugh, organic reproduction rituals either..."

"I see... how sad, then my son won't be mine in this universe"

Breakdown has dissasociated from the conversation long ago. Seeing as this was just a mockout of an interrogation by the seeker, he started to prepare the cirurgy table in case it would be needed

"Your what now?" Starscream continues

"Motormaster, so much like his father, it might be for the best that this universe humans and cybertronians aren't compatible"

"Wait, stop, in your dimension, cybertronians and humans can... reproduce?" The disgust in his face is priceless, you snort and does your best impression of shyness "and you whilingly partook in it... had an offspring even- how???"

"I know, it was... something else entirely, my partner is more caring than he looks" you exagerated a dreamy look, doing your best to not bark a laugh at Starscreams reactions, his wings flutter and go down, red eyes shining bright and in the center white dots apear by the sher mental damage you might be doing to his processors

"Partner??? Who in their right mind would frag an organic??"

And this was the moment you had been waiting for, you look at him up and down, eyes hooded, then when meeting his you look away sheepsy, and the dawning realization in the silver seekers face dares you to laugh and break this little lie "no... you are not seriously impling-"

"That it's Megatron, exactly" and now he looks like you just simultaneously gave him a negative paternity test and a cold shower. Someone is surprisingly indecisive in how to react to this fantasy you created, nauseous, relieved and offended, his body language changed by seconds in between tics

"MEGATRON?!" The thin seekers screeches and halts

You both jump when hearing Breakdown tumble a plate of cirurgical utensils in the ground as he turns his head abruptly at you, oh so he was paying attention too after all

At the same time, the mechanical door swings open, revealing a red grounder, entering med bay in all the casualness of a confident peacock "alright here I am, what do you need Star-"

He stop, noting both mechs staring at you intensely in diferents level of shock, meeting your eyes you look at him up and down

"Whats up with the fleshie?"

Starscream is the first to recover, if only to clean his troath and save face "ahem. Yes, hm, Knockout, this is our human guest"

He calls you name, a bit of hesitation in his tone, wariness, but also doubt in saying it, as If he can't belive he has to remember you name from now own "this is Knockout, our resident doctor"

"Ah... so you are the reason I'm or will be dead in this dimension, got it" you nod "nice polish"

With one eyebrows up, the doctor smiles "why thank you, at least this one has maners... anyone else might want to fill me in what ever id going on then?"

"Long story short, came from another dimension, give a week or so and I will be out of your sight, so be ready to share this place for a while"

The red mech roll his optics at you and turns to Strascream "jokster aren't they? Right Starscream?"

"..."

Apprehensive Knockput looks at his assistant"Breakdown?"

"..."

"I wish I was joking, pretty boy" you sigh

.......................

Sharing a workplace with the half-organic turned out to not be as insufferable as Knockout thought it would be, if anything it was enlightening

"Jamed cog?" You asks the stuck vehicon in his car alt-mode

"Yes..." he responds, apprehensive of being so casual to a human, but his superior was right there and did treated you with minimal respect

"Got it" with a well placed kick you open him up

The red doctor watches as you practically reagents the insides of the poor vehicon without a care, you had given a read into cybertronian biology of this dimension, cortesy of you nagging the red sportscar for entertainment

It was different from your dimension, but also very similar in a way, you could translate your skills to here, wich meant Knockout now had break time, and you took over when he wanted to jump out of ship and relax

But there are days, like this, where he was needed on board, not because of work, stars no, but because more and more his superiors just, kept appearing at the medical wing unprompted, he couldn't make them have check in for months, but the tinny human barks a comand and Lord Megatron himself is sitting his stuborn aft down and being checked in nook and cranny by the smallest temporary crew member of the Nemesis

So Knockout is trying his best to be seen present most of the time, so that no-one blames him for leaving the squishy too long without supervision

"The mercenary" you say suddenly, still focused in your work "you were a mercenary in my universe"

"Was I now?" He buffs his plating for the tenth time this hour, not really interested in this dimensional travel nonsense you say, be it true or not, as long as it doesn't cause problems for him that was not his circus to oversee

"Yeah, saddly, I don't have photos. You would find yourself ugly anyways... you really stole all fashion sense from everyone around here, didn't you"

That makes the mech stop and amusement in his tone says "what do you mean by that?"

"I mean... look at Starscream, poor thing is so skinny" you find a lose wire and starts getting it out "mine had this tacky red blue and white colorscheeme but he made it work, the figure of a hourglass too, I was trying to convince him to add high heels before being in this mess... hey I can use something from this universe to convince mine, hadn't thought of that"

The red doctor stops his beauty routine, a curious and mischievous smile spreading across his face "do you... have photos?"

Having the exact reaction that you wanted to see, you give the vehicon patient a good ram in the motor, making his t-cog act up again "oh do I~"

.....................

"And this is when he was so drunk he was dancing on the nemesis comunication antenna"

With your phone plugged in the computers of the spaceship you show a high resolution of your Starscream, in jet mode, spinning around a pole, the camera angle clearly from yourself filming, at the distance his voice can be heard "and around the worlddddd-we-hic-we-goooooooooooo-weeeeeeeeee"

He transforms mid air, catching himself in the antenna and swinging from side to side, at that moment the camera goes down and in zooms at a blue blocky mech, your Soundwave, angrily looking up

Knockout was snorting the whole time, you give him context "the blue one is Soundwave"

"He is drunk" your voice comes from the video "be nice"

"Optinion: noted" the deep robotic voice resounds "and discarted. Starscream termination: scheduled"

"He talks?!" The docto tries to say between the wheeze he is having, you look nostalgic at the video

"More than you know, yours don't?"

"WHEEZE- COF- AHEM- I... slag, one sec, oh boy, and I though the comander shaking his aft was the funniest thing he could do.. ah yes, Soundwave, ahem, I heard he does, but took a vow of silence after one of his symbionts passing"

"Passing..." realization hits you, and your heart hurts a little "how... many symbionts does he has now?"

"From what I know Lazerbeak is the sole survivor, heard he had up to five at some point"

"Five..." the images of Rumble, Frenzy and Ravage crosses your mind "no wonder he took a vow of silence after..."

"Yours have them?"

You pass on several more videos and photos, all in questionable quality, until stoping at a specific good one, of Soundwave, sitting at his office, tired and concentrated in his work, Rumble and Frenzy recharge lazily at his lap, Ravage snuggling conformable between his shoulders and Lazerbeak by the side being petted by their boss

"Yeah, they are the most mischiveous little shits I know" you smile foundly at the picture, Soundwave had some days after came to you claiming to need your phone for a new upgrade, months later you find in his personal computer that as his background

"..." Knockout looks from the photo to you, a surprised look at his face, genuine "you really endeared yourself to the most dangerous of decepticons..."

"Yeah, don't ask me how, I don't know either" and there is a small sad smile in you, the curiosity of knowing obviously eating you alive "I... just don't know if it will be enough for them to look for me tho"

Your fist truth makes the doctors spikes move in surprise "so you are stuck here?"

"For now, if this universe Shockwave doesn't kill me first, maybe I can go back"

"..." piercing you with his red optics Knockout adds "why are you telling me this?"

You smile, the suspicion in his maners a small win for yourself, he sees you as more than an idiot human "from a doctor to another? Is to show you how essential your place is in this ship, make yourself irreplaceable and you wil be set for life..."

"... is that a treat" you hear the saw long before he turns his arm into one

"It's an offering" you turn to him without fear, locking your eyes with his "for Breakdown, I'll play as your assistant and not better replacement"

"What makes you so sure you are better than me" the saw comes closer, shining and spinning

"Megatron has not yet killed me... and he listens"

"..." he can't argue with that, you are new, and his three superiors have been weirdly pacific and entranced by this dimension you came from, until you mess up, he is bellow you in the food chain of this cursed ship "what was that about Breakdown?"

You chuckles as he retreats his saw, turning back to the screen, looking for more photos, this time of the Stunticons "as... ilogical as it may sound, I do have a soft spot for the ones I recognize and hold dear in my dimension, Breakdown is one of them"

You find one of Breakdown, your Breakdown, orange, white and blue, shyly giving the camera a wave in the background, Motormaster refusing to look at the lense but still gives a small wave of his own in his crossed arms, Dragstrip and Deadend running at the makeshift finish line in the background "I saw all of them being made and molded, from protoform to first transformation, they may not be my creations, but I still have a soft spot for them"

"And that translates to this dimension Breakdown... wich one is him in there?" He taps the screen

"The shy one" you point at him in the picture "always anxious that his disguise isn't good enough, stumbling in his words, still deadly, like any pround decepticon"

The found smile in the red doctors face confirms a small theory you had been building these past days "reminds me of him... before the war that is"

"So you two were friends before?"

He cofs "you could say that, acquaintances more like it"

"Hm... sure" you nod along, letting this go for now

"... just to be sure, because this has been killing me inside since Breakdown told me, that... "son" talk, it was just to mess with Starscream right?"

You laugh at his barely disguised disgust of the idea "alright, I relent, it was a lie, but Motormaster was my truck first before becoming a Cybertronian, and he does have some vague memories from before, it is a bit complicated between us, but no, humans and cybertronians can't directly reproduce in my dimension"

He sighs in relief "thank Primus that was too much to bear... why Megatron as the "father" tho? "

"He was the one who commissioned the Stunticons, and he was the funniest answer besides Starscream"

"Fair"

And then as casual as possible, you add "but recreative interfacing is possible if you are interested"

"Eh makes sense-wait what?"

You smile smugly at him

"WHO?!" He sounds as eager for the gossip as mortified by the notion

"Guess"

#tranformers #transformers x reader #tfp #tfp x reader #gn reader #human reader #decepticons x reader

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shiny-kaibernyte · 9 months ago

Note

Hey, I've read your Drayton writings. He's such a goofball and i like how your writings portray him. I thought of a scenario that could have gone in the indigo disk involving him and/or kieran.

After the expedition, the main character gets badly injured from shielding Kieran being hit by terapagos's tera starstorm. Kieran is crushed with crippling guilt along with Drayton who is also furious at Kieran after he heard of the news. Feeling guilty because he could have protected her if he had gone on the expedition. They see the MC with big scar on their face and feel even more guilty while the MC try to comfort both of them.

(Haha, Kieran and Drayton rivalry/jealously go brrrr)

I was wondering if you could write something for this? (Romantic feelings are somewhat implied) Thx man.

This got lost to the void or requests but I'm so glad i finally got around to doing this one! It may take me ages but i will eventually do my requests. I did notice you used she in your request, i have written this in gender neutral but if you would prefer i change it feel free to let me know and i can fix it for you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of scaring and blood, fluff, Spoilers for the indigo disk.

Healing Scar | Drayton x reader (Hurt)

It was so dark, sounds blended together into one endless noise. Lights became shadows and your vision drew red. Blurring like a fogged up camera lens, the ground was non-existent below your frame, body numb and senses beyond recognition, all you could do was stare forward, the dancing lights and sounds soon echoing out into nothing but silence. The once red tinted vision, now black.

“Where are they Kieran? What did you do?” Someone was yelling, distressed maybe.

“Please calm yourself! There is no need to fight, this isn’t getting us anywhere!?” Another voice… calmer than the first but still loud enough to hear the words forming.

“I’m sorry! There was nothing that could have been done to stop this. You need to understand it wasn’t his fault!” More…? How many more people are around you?

“Nothing? From what I can tell he stood there and DID NOTHING!” That voice… clearer now, closer. Drayton. Unmistakable, definitely him.

“He was scared! We all were, how were we supposed to know that would happen?!” Carmine, definitely her… The tinge of sarcasm in her natural tone made her voice so familiar to your ears.

“Guys stop this please! This is a hospital, you can’t yell here…” Who is this… Lacey? You were almost certain it was her, but she's so soft spoken it was hard to even tell. You could feel another person in the room… it must be Kieran, Drayton did yell his name if you remember.

“Kieran, you better star explaining what the hell happened down there or so help me i will-”

“That’s enough Drayton!” Crispin… That fire in his voice, when did he get here? Was he here the whole time? You were unsure but it was definitely him, and from the muffled bump, he must have grabbed Drayton. If only your eyes would open, or words could form, you could tell them you were okay. What was even happening?

“Drayton… perhaps you should step out for a moment, calm down a little bit.” Lacey chimed up again, voice much clearer now.

“NO!” That was loud. Even for Drayton. Seems even he realised how loud he was, if you could see the faces in the room you could guess how surprised everyone looked. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have shouted like that, I just… I can't leave them. I want, no, need to be here when they wake up. If I leave…”

“We understand, perhaps we should all just take a moment to breathe, Kieran?” Carmine's tone had calmed significantly from what it was before, sounding almost motherly.

“Right… as much as i want to stay, i’ll leave for now.” Kieran’s voice was shaken, anger perhaps? Guilt? It was unclear.

The sound of shuffling footsteps soon filled your ears, multiple people were leaving. A clicking sound soon cut the footsteps off when a door closed. A chair scraping sound pierced your ears. It was loud and harsh, But not as loud as Drayton’s words. “I should have been there… Why did I say no… I’m such a dumbass, if i’d just gone with you i could have… You wanted me to go so badly, to see Area zero. The sparkle in your eye, I should have just gone. I shouldn’t have left you alone…”

“shush…”

“What?” Drayton perked up, your sudden word cut through his like a knife. Whilst your eyes were closed, the sudden shadow passing through your eyelids confirmed he was now leaning over you from your left. Though his presence was known to you, words were not. That single word was all you could muster - Your eyes on the other hand finally decided to be of use to you and open. Though agonisingly slowly. “Oh thank god… You’re alive, actually alive.”

“They’re awake…?” Kieran’s voice came from the door, you could still see Drayton’s face in your view, in fact it was the first thing you saw. His eyes, scanning your features, nothing but gratitude and admiration in them, hair hanging on his face, messy and unkempt. Tears began to fill so he refused to stain your face with them. At least that was how he looked before Kieran entered the room again. Head snapping so fast he could have gotten whiplash. “I left my jacket here, are they actually awake?”

“Yes, now get out.” Drayton snapped, backing away from your vision allowing your eyes to adjust to the lights around you.

“Can I see them?” Kieran responded quickly, as if trying to cut Drayton off. “Just for a second?”

Before Drayton could even open his mouth, with the little strength you had gained back, you grabbed the cuff of his sleeve which caused his head to snap back again. He really needs to stop doing that. “Hey… Let me help you sit up.”

He had seen the nurse adjust your bed earlier that day so you were almost laying down, so he did the same thing just sitting you up slowly instead as his arm rested on your stomach as support so you would fall in the new upright position. You could see Kieran now, he looked awful. Not physically, he didn’t have a scratch on him. Emotionally, he was defeated, there was nothing in his eyes but guilt and hate. Poor kid couldn’t even look at you, his eyes were fixed on the wall next to him, occasionally looking at Drayton who was practically staring holes straight through Kieran’s body. Turning back to Drayton, you attempt to convey to him that you want Kieran to stay, darting your eyes between him and Kieran. He got the message.

“Kieran! They want to see you… But you really don’t need to come over, standing there, far away is fine.” Swatting him in the arm, you send your dragon boy a glare which causes him to recoil his comment and blush embarrassed. “Just kidding.”

Passing Kieran a small smile, you lift your free hand up, as Drayton grabs your other, sitting back down in the chair he had practically lept from earlier. His thumb runs gently over the back of your hand, as his attention is drawn back to the timid boy standing opposite him, now at the railing of your bed. Kieran didn't take your hand instead he just stared at your face. “I’m sorry…”

Confusion returned to you, sorry for what? He was okay, that's all that mattered to you, he wasn’t hurt from what you could see, no scratches or bruises. Bit of dirt he hadn’t cleaned and some bits of crystal dust. No wounds.

“I’m so sorry…” Kieran muttered eyes tracing your face as tears threatened to fall. He hated how vulnerable he was in this moment, he wanted to be strong but the guilt that flooded his body was too strong, a tidal wave.

Drayton used his Rotom phone to show you what Kieran was looking at. It was bad, a large scar ran from your right ear, across your cheek and nose, then ending just under your left eye. Another on your forehead doing the same thing. Only thinner but deeper than the cheek scar. Clean tho, no residual damage aside from the giant scar and a few cuts around your features. So that was why your vision turned red. Kieran couldn’t bear to see the surprise on your face, at well… seeing your face.

“Say sorry as much as you want, nothing… is gonna change what happened down there. Nothing…” Seems Drayton’s own guilt came crashing back again. The both of them were ashamed for different reasons.

Drayton for not being there with you, for turning you down and not being there to protect you. He loved you so much, more than words could describe and yet here you were. Kieran for the opposite, he went with you because he wanted to know more, to be better, stronger. To find the secret of area zero But when push came to shove, he stood there. Feet firm on the ground, unmoving as attack after attack came towards his little group. Only when your own body dove into his in a tackle, to knock him out of the way from whatever else came at you, and your blood stained his face did he finally move.

“You think I don't know that?” Kieran snapped back, fists clenched against the railing of your bed, head hung low. “Stop rubbing it in my face Drayton!”

You felt like a kid between these two, the bickering back and forth between them sounded like siblings fighting over something trivial. So you made an attempt to comfort them. Drayton was easy, all you had to do was gently squeeze his hand and send him a warm but meaningful smile and he was completely calm again. Placing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand as he gently stroked your hair.

Kieran was about to leave, turning his back to the scene in front of him only for your free hand to grab his wrist forcing him to stay, the look you gave him was subtle, but it spoke louder than any words you could say. The honesty in them, forgiveness. You didn’t blame him for any of this and you needed him to know that. If yanking him into a hug was how to do that then so be it. With an aggressive tug you pulled him into you, his head landing on your shoulder as your arm latched onto his back, handing rubbing his side reassuringly. He finally cried, hiding his face in your shoulder, his arms tightening on you. Drayton didn't say anything, instead mimicking your action to Kieran, no snarky comment or blame-full actuation.

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ipegchangbin · 9 months ago

Text

— winner’s deal

sub!jeno x dom!reader x sub!mark | 7.9k words | READ ON AO3

One game, one house. A bet turns into something more when team leader Mark plans to make your boyfriend Jeno all jealous.

❥ fem!reader (she/her pronouns, afab). smut. porn with some plot. ❥ threesome. college/university!au, student!reader & athletes!markjen. member x reader, member x member. open relationship themes. unprotected sex, mouthplay, edging & overstimulation, one light cock slap, double penetration, they’re all messy

📝 happy birthday to the one and only @meivida!!! my fellow dreamzen, the jeno to my chenle, my bff 4life! also surprise i write for nct drm too now. otherwise, enjoy !!

18+ only. minors do not interact.

Somehow, Mark’s not that nervous as he faces Jeno after the game.

Having swept the floor earlier with an insane hockey match, hockey team leader Mark and varsity captain Jeno eye each other down in the locker rooms with nothing but fiery gazes, squinted eyes, and clenched teeth.

You were going to meet them after the game for some “unknown reason.” But, with the way they looked at each other, they just knew.

“Dumb play on the floor earlier, Jeno.” Mark snickered at his teammate, referring to a foul move he got called out for. It cost their team a single point, but Jeno didn’t care about that.

“You didn’t bother to block the guy, so how else was I supposed to pass the disk?”

Mark decides to stay silent. They both know that they aren’t actually frustrated at their game, no, they’re waiting for the minutes to tick down along with the sound of your footsteps by the locker room’s doors.

Jeno breaks the conversational floor worse than he did on the court. “Anyway, why are you meeting up with my girlfriend?”

“Why don’t you ask her?” The leader popped a water bottle open. “You’re her boyfriend.”

“Shouldn’t you know why if she’s asking you?” Jeno had a point, but Mark snickered.

“Beats me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know any better.”

“Because I don’t!”

Refusing to explode any further, Jeno sighs loudly with a big huff off his chest. “Look, if this is about that one move, I’m sorry.”

Mark simply nods, eyes away from Jeno’s face.

“And I just want to know what my girlfriend has to do with you.”

Even though Mark knows the answer, and Jeno has a hunch, they both shut their lips and wordlessly look at each other.

The truth is, Mark had a bet with Jaemin — if he could somehow make Jeno jealous, then a sum of money would be on the line. It’s been a running joke around the team that Jeno gets sulky over simple things, even if he tries to hide it. It’s something small and endearing, but even Mark thought it would be a step too far if he made him really envious of his girlfriend; Jaemin didn’t care, he just wanted money. It frustrated Mark even to be playing these types of bets, but he couldn’t say no, even as the leader.

Jeno already had that sneaking suspicion that he was being played with, but never in his life would he believe that you — his girlfriend — would get involved like this. Rather than jealousy, he was frustrated at the thought that the boys were teasing him in this way. He tried not to let it get the best of him though, even if he was already getting fired up in the locker rooms.

They eye each other down and it’s the most they’ve stared in their lives.

The sound of sneakers walking into the room echoes through the rigid halls of the lockers. A voice can be heard saying “This is the boy’s room” before being cut off by an extra loud turn of the shoe.

Mark suddenly fidgets in his place, all signs of cockiness dissipating as your familiarly strict voice vibrates through the room.

“Where’s Mark?” You ask yourself. With a resting tone like that, you could pass off as the team manager if you weren’t so focused on your other endeavors.

You spot team leader Mark before your boyfriend, igniting a little spark of envy within Jeno.

“Mark! Why’d you make me rush here so suddenly?” It sounds like you were scolding him with your furrowed eyebrows but you’re not.

“Uh, just needed to ask a simple question.”

“And what would that be?”

Jeno looks back and forth between you and Mark with a cloud of confusion over his head.

First off, he can’t believe that you’re involved in this. Second, you look way too hot when you look mad even when you aren’t. It’s not that you’re annoyed at him, maybe you are, but not to the degree that your voice suggests. Somehow, Jeno finds that assertive side of you so sexy that it’d be inappropriate to think about it right then and there.

Thirdly and finally, you’re completely ignoring the love of your life. Standing awkwardly beside Mark, Jeno simply stares at you and hopes you will stare back.

You don’t. Why’s that so attractive of you?

"How about you join dinner with us at my place?" Mark replies, a smug grin on his face, “Y’know, for beating those Stray-bitches from earlier."

You blink. Jeno blinks back. It’s only then that you acknowledge your boyfriend. He didn’t even know that they were getting a celebratory dinner for winning the day’s game.

That’s when Jeno’s ears start to turn red with envy. “What do you mean, your place?”

He doesn’t realize he’s thinking aloud until your eyes widen and Mark responds with a fake laugh and a smug smile. “I mean, dude, you played well earlier, and what’s wrong with not bringing your girlfriend over?”

Acting all buddy-buddy, as if he didn’t just diss his play on the floor. But that’s not what gets Jeno’s blood boiling.

“Can’t believe I had to be the one to invite her over first instead of you.”

You seem a little less affected, more so confused.

Only a few things make sense to you at the moment. They won, sure. But if Jeno knew about the dinner, why couldn’t he invite you over? Then again, he doesn’t seem to know either, and Mark looks unusually cool to you right now, your eyes are flipping between the two men until your eyelids flutter for a second to refocus.

“I’m available later,” you say with your back straightened. “I’m going if Jeno’s going.”

With that, Jeno can’t say no. He’s in a trickier spot than you are, severely tethering between being unaware and painfully aware of what’s going on.

Mark then slams his arm over Jeno’s shoulder. “Guess you’re going then?”

But he’s bad at masking the nervousness in his eyes. He gulps and sweat trickles down his forehead even after the game’s been over for a while. His plan to make Jeno jealous all for what could probably be lunch money is backing him into a corner — and he mentally hates wearing the dunce hat.

Jeno nods his head with a squint.

“Alright! I’ll see you guys later.”

He ruffles Jeno's hair and leaves with a turn of the heel. The squeak of his rubber shoes echoes through the locker rooms. You turn to your disheveled puppy of a boyfriend, fixing the messy hair.

“You sure you wanna go?” Your question is met with a nod from him. He compliantly keeps his head down for you to scratch it slightly, leaving the boy with a flushed face and redder ears.

“If we get dinner at Mark’s, can we get dessert at mine after?” Jeno suggests.

“Sure thing,” you giggle. “How could I say no to a polite boy like you?”

If Jeno had a tail, he’d be wagging it now. Reassured, he simply takes your hand in his as you lead each other out of the lockers. Should Mark or Jaemin be there, they would’ve thought that they lost from the sight of the both of you.

Time rolls around until it’s night. The lights are on while the sun is out, the moon barely illuminating your steps alongside Jeno’s on the way to Mark’s place.

The streets are usually busier but you don’t mind the quieter walk when your boyfriend intertwines his fingers with yours. The sidewalks are skinnier but he uses that as an excuse to walk closer to you. He’s the unusual one now, becoming slightly clingier than he normally would.

You figure if it has anything to do with Mark’s antics.

“You still wanna go to his place? We can grab something else,” you suggest.

That’s where you’re wrong, though.

“No, let’s go,” Jeno says with a smile and a contrasting squeeze of your hand.

He wants to prove himself against Mark.

You’d think that he’s unintentionally losing, giving in to the envy and jealousy building up in his core — but that’s not what this is. He wants to show him that you’re his, and he’s yours. Given the attitude that the both of them were giving each other, he wanted to one-up his own leader. He can’t quite explain it himself.

You both make it to Mark's place though, but you don't recognize any of the cars around his apartment. Actually, there are no vehicles around Mark's spot at all. Not even Chenle's car is there, the signature pickup that took their friend group everywhere. It seems like both of you came early.

So, you ring on his doorbell. Jeno tests himself by letting your hand go.

No response. Ding-dong; no response again.

You do hear hurried footsteps though, but it takes long before anything happens. Antsy, Jeno fidgets as he stops himself from the instinct of holding your hand again. Minutes go by before the door finally answers: Mark looks disheveled and hurriedly dressed.

You’d be damned if you say he’s cute, so you digress, focusing on your boyfriend instead.

The two men high-five with a side hug — despite lingering hard feelings — and you enter the seemingly lifeless house.

“…Where’s the party?” You squeak.

Mark leans against the door frame with crossed arms. “You’re the first in here.”

On the table sits nothing but Mark's takeout and a couple of other snacks. The only fresh thing seems to be the chicken he ordered just an hour ago. Jeno raises an eyebrow at Mark.

“Oh, Y/N, can I tell you something before the others arrive?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Sure.”

“But Jeno can’t hear about it.”

What is it this time?

Mark isn't even sure of what he should say to you. Maybe he should flat-out admit that he's in a bet to make Jeno jealous.

Maybe he should admit a little secret he’s been keeping to himself for years — he finds you kind of cute.

It’s not something he holds as he would a crush, that would be wrong of him. He just always considered his best friend lucky for bagging someone as great as you. You’re someone he likes to look at and converse with — it’s nothing about that kind of attraction, at least he thinks. Mark isn’t here to homewreck, but he can’t help his brain when you’re in the picture.

He shouldn’t talk about that, though. Not when Jeno’s there, not when he’s supposed to be faking a party, not when he’s practically using you to win a bet against his friend.

He feels like a shitty person, but before the college-boy-antics-guilt settles in, you follow Mark behind the door of his kitchen.

“What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

Mark’s pupils dart around, trying to find anything but your face to focus on. “Well, uhm, actually…”

Meanwhile, Jeno has a hunch that the party’s not real when Renjun sends a picture to him. He’s with Jaemin and Chenle, all three looking at the camera with mischievous eyes.

All of his suspicions confirm themselves with question marks and indefinite periods while waiting for you with heated cheeks.

It’s not that he’s clingy — he doesn’t want to admit so — and it’s not that he’s jealous — he can’t admit that either. In all fairness, he just wants you to be safe; he trusts you enough to be in Mark’s presence, but alone with a secret he can’t know about? Why would you be hiding behind a door in Mark’s apartment?

The anxiety creeps under his skin, sending off various signals in his brain to check in on you and his friend.

He walks in on you urging the other to speak. “Come on, Mark, what is it that you wanted to say—”

“If you have anything to say to her, say it to my face too,” Jeno butts in.

Mark blinks. He’s sweating.

He doesn’t know what to do. That is, he didn’t, not until he blurts something out.

"Fine, y'all can do whatever you want in here!" Mark apologizes. "I'm sorry, I don't want to waste your time. You guys can hang around, get more food, sleepover — hell, y'all can fuck and that's fine, I'm just really sorry."

It’s your turn to blink along with Jeno.

“Y-You weren’t gonna say anything?”

Mark’s cheeks turn red as he stumbles over his words. “Okay—where do I start? I was in a bet with Jaemin, and he bet that I could make Jeno jealous.” He uses his hands to communicate after pausing. “Like—okay, I didn’t think it would go this far, I’m sorry.”

But something clicks in his head as soon as he sees Jeno’s beet-red face.

“Though I feel like I won anyway,” he giggles awkwardly. “I think I actually made you jealous for a minute there.”

You turn to your poor boyfriend and find him fully flushed, hands balled into fists, forehead glistening with beads of sweat. Jeno’s eyebrows sit furiously on his tall nose, but his mouth is unsure — that’s when he realizes his envy getting the best of him for at least that moment.

You think it's cute, though. Perhaps you're the worst person for being amused to see your friend play games with your boyfriend.

“So, how much was the bet?” You break the ice, and Jeno turns to you with a shocked face.

“Twenty bucks…” Mark scratches his head, “…I guess it’s worth it?”

You laugh at him, lightly punching his shoulder. At that moment, Jeno's feelings start to blur as he experiences light deja vu before his eyes. With the way you were interacting with Mark before him, he was feeling that creeping jealousy come back. He tries to suppress it as best as he can, but this time it fails — the frustration shows in his face as you laugh and act as if he isn't there.

He’s the boyfriend. He should be the one you’re defending and paying attention to, but for some reason, you don’t mind either you or him getting played with for twenty stupid bucks.

Also, you’re hot as fuck when you’re smiling at someone else, and it frustrates him even more.

“We can do anything here, yeah?” Jeno speaks up.

Mark smiles. “Yeah. I don’t mind at all, it’s my little peace offering.”

Without another word, Jeno grabs your hand as he drags you out of the room. He runs to Mark’s bedroom, holding you firmly, closing the door only slightly shut with the other.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss. “You can’t just dart out like that! And my hand hurts a bit.”

At that, Jeno wordlessly inspects your wrist, thinking he hurt you in the midst of his envy — he’s also avoiding your queries.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous, but there’s no reason to be.” The reassurance doesn’t work as his eyes fixate on your hand. “It’s just a bet between them, and at the end of the day, I still love you.”

Your words fall on semi-deaf ears, the only visual effect being his cheeks getting a shade deeper. He fidgets with your fingers.

Mildly frustrated yourself, you reach out with both hands to cup his face and refocus on yours. “Jeno.”

The look he gives you sends a signal off in your head.

What seems to be hearts form in his eyes. He looks like he wants to be possessive, but he wants you to own him. Make him yours. It’s a look you’ve seen many times on his face but you can’t pinpoint the exact reason why it still gets you every time.

Like a pleading puppy, his cheeks sink into your palms as he stares back into you.

“I just…” Jeno clears his throat, “I don’t want you to be played with like that. And I-I want to be just yours.”

Your shock softens as you rub your thumbs across his cheekbones. “Oh lovely, there’s nothing to worry about. I really love you.”

He unexpectedly lunges his head forward, trapping your lips in a loving kiss. It takes a full ten seconds, eyes closed and heads tilted to find each other’s connection between the mouths, and you pull away with a huff.

“Jeno, we shouldn’t.”

You know that this usually escalates to something more than just stolen kisses. You try to stop it before anything, and your boyfriend knows this, but he doesn’t stop at all.

“Mark said we can do anything.”

You push his chest gently. “That’s not a go signal!”

“Yeah, but if anything, Mark should be the shameful one.”

Before you could question it, Jeno nods his head towards the creaked open door, revealing Mark standing behind it.

He was caught listening in.

“Hey, d-don’t take this wrong,” Mark stutters, “Was just gonna ask why you ran out on me!”

For some reason, you aren’t mad about it.

Jeno’s weirded out, that’s for sure — but neither of you can stay too mad. He had his reasons to look for you but not to ogle for that long, but maybe it’s the heat post-kiss that drives your head to a place where it shouldn’t be; especially not in team leader Mark’s house.

But it’s going there.

“I guess we’re all forgetting our manners,” you suggest with high eyebrows. Your voice, however, takes on a deeper tone with a timbre that Mark hasn’t heard — but your boyfriend knows too well.

Mark observes as your boyfriend shivers. He looks at you surprised as if he didn’t just kiss you in his best friend’s house; he knows you could make it worse.

“If you hadn’t been so nosy, I would’ve invited you, you know.”

That’s more than enough of a signal to get Mark and Jeno’s heads spiraling.

Jeno isn’t too sure what you mean. He does, but he doesn’t know why you’re acting so coy — like you were never caught off-guard. As your boyfriend, he knows your antics, but as a separate person, he isn’t too sure how to think of your thinking.

Inviting Mark to step into the same room, you reach your fingers out and curl them towards you.

“Jeno was gonna be mine for the night. It wouldn’t hurt if I could just have another toy to play with though, yeah?”

You only lay your eyes on your boyfriend at the last word. It isn’t a look of confirmation, but rather assertion — you stated it like a fact and he isn’t ready to react before you glare at him. There’s only one answer to you, and Jeno nods, making you smirk proudly.

Mark simply watches speechlessly until you smile at him.

"I mean, as you said, we could do anything. It's still your house though, so feel free to call it off..." The wind that blows as your words slow down seems to add to the heat growing in Mark's cheeks. The warmth under his skin only boils as he notices Jeno's lack of protest — worse, he sees compliance and anticipation.

He gulps as he realizes that he doesn’t want to call it off.

“So what? Care to join?”

The three have you have waited long enough for a response but his house slippers are glued to the floor. His mouth hangs open for a response but nothing leaves him.

A chuckle leaves your mouth as you take the step to inch closer to him while holding your boyfriend's hand at the back.

“Don’t be shy,” your free hand snakes up to Mark’s shoulder, “I don’t bite.”

It's a lie as per Jeno's eyes. You'll bite if presented with the consent.

Just as soon as Mark musters up a response, he finds your lips on his cheek as you pull him closer to your boyfriend. The proximity and sudden actions kill him bit by bit from the inside out. A tent forms in his pants but he thinks nothing of it when you kiss him on the lips right after.

Jeno watches with no hint of jealousy, but a watering mouth follows.

Mark savors the taste of your lips for a second, then another — before it’s all gone as you pull away with a mischievous smile.

Grabbing his chin with one hand, your thumb swipes past his wetted plump lower lip. You tilt his head slightly towards Jeno, letting your boyfriend watch as you slip your thumb inside his mouth. Mark's eyes light up, watching your face as you fixate on his mouth.

He instinctively attempts to suck your thumb, but you pry his mouth open with your other hand’s fingers, hooking his head up by his front teeth. It’s fully exposed now, Mark’s tongue out with saliva flowing from the roof of his mouth, down onto strong teeth, all the way to your index and middle fingers. Jeno speechlessly savors the sight of you leaning down to kiss his best friend’s tongue.

Desire fills him as you press your lips firmly against his tongue, smiling, then pulling back to admire the flustered mess you’ve made of the boy. Your boyfriend enjoys the view, inching close to the both of you to kiss your lips right after. Your hands never leave Mark’s open mouth.

“Kiss him.” Your index finger tugs on the corner of Mark’s lips to feign a smile. “See? He’s waiting for it.”

Jeno eyes his teammate with lust. He closes his eyes and mirrors your antics, kissing not just Mark’s tongue but his teeth too, his lips, and any inch of flesh he can get. He licks the spit in his mouth and gulps after each kiss.

As Jeno pulls away, you leave Mark’s mouth alone, making the boy cough at the sudden absence of you both — but he smiles right after.

“Fuck,” he simply whispers.

Proud of what you’ve done, you turn to make out with Jeno while your wet hands travel down to tug at a belt hoop on Mark’s pants. The signal hits him late, causing him to hurriedly unbutton his pants. You laugh into Jeno’s kiss.

“Look at this boy, he doesn’t know what to do.”

“Always like that,” Jeno comments. “He’s the cutest when he’s panicked.”

Mark’s head shoots up at Jeno. Cute? Since when was he cute to him?

It takes long the boy a minute — he zones out for a few seconds as you and Jeno start kissing up his sides, from the neck down to his hips. He can't believe anything that's happening. Whatever this was, the sudden thing he'd gotten himself into while in his own home, he couldn't seem to pull himself away from it. A magnetic force is locking him in as you suck on his neck.

Mark moans, deliciously caught by Jeno’s mouth as he makes out with him briefly while holding him firmly by the waist. Mark can feel Jeno’s hard length, straining painfully against Mark’s back. His own cock hangs against his boxers, the crotch exposed as you pull his unbuttoned pants down.

His vision blurs. His mouth salivates but feels dry. He begins to get dizzy — he can't black out though, and even if none of this is quite right, he isn't mad at all. He loves it.

The desire in him burns as you push your own body onto the bed, admiring the two boys before you.

Your hand cups your boyfriend’s ass, digging your palm inside his back pocket. “Jeno, get your pants off now.”

“Want you to help me too.” He responds with a pout.

“How about you ask your friend over here to assist you?”

Jeno obediently turns to Mark with an expression akin to that of an excited puppy. It’s another sight that only you have seen, and Mark thinks it’s an honor to see it himself; his brain lags at the adorable blink Jeno gives, before pawing at his crotch.

“You’re so hard.”

“I know. Please help me.”

It doesn’t take Mark too long this time to fully respond to this request. He eagerly reaches for the button on Jeno’s pants and frees the strained crotch, leaving him in his boxers.

Something gets the best of him. Maybe it's because this is all wrong, or maybe it's a pent-up expression of all the times he's seen his best friend in boxers — it drives him more insane than it should, seeing his length while they change in the locker rooms — but whatever it is, it drives him to pull at the hem of his boxers, taking a peek at his cock.

And fuck, is he packing a lot.

Jeno's cock is veiny and it pulses as Mark ogles at it. It's long and thick enough — it might be a bit longer than Mark's, he thinks. It's veiny, the tip red and shapely. His balls hang not too far from his cock, barely seen from the size that greeted him for a second's worth. The shaft has a curve that greets Mark with a twitch.

The boy turns to you as if to ask permission, to which he does: “May I please play with him?”

“Not yet,” you tilt your head. “A bit too eager now, aren’t we?”

“But he—we—” he loses the words in his throat. His finger leaves the hem of Jeno’s boxers, but the boy cups his hip in desperation.

"I only allowed you to help him pull it down." At that, Mark's face sours. He salivates at the picture of Jeno's cock. He had never thought of his friend that way, never really considered the invitation that was always there — for the sake of "being bros." But now that it's here, you delay him the opportunity; so close yet so far.

Mark’s fingers only leave Jeno’s boxers when the man looks at him with an obedient eye.

“Let him play with you first.” Your voice almost echoes through the room. Jeno nods as if he received a secret command, only understood by you and him. Was it the curl in your tone that caused him to act?

Either way, it shocks Mark slightly when Jeno's strong arms pull him by his shoulders. His hands then crawl both behind his head and then down to his hips, bringing the two bodies impossibly closer — Jeno seems unfazed as he pulls Mark's shirt off next. He's used to the sight of his toned body, but seeing his chest flush in both embarrassment and lust is a new sight that budges Jeno's mouth into a soft smile.

“Mark, I want you to relax and enjoy. Jeno’s really good and I want him to be good to you.”

His hands graze lightly down Mark's body. The boy's skin raises into bumps of a once-pale, now-flushed frenzy, his body hairs rising as the other's delicate fingertips trail down his exposed arms and sides. Mark's chest is heaving, unable to catch a break or a breath.

It's all worse when Jeno kisses him once more, taking advantage of his open mouth. His hands stay on Mark's chest, fingers looking for his nipples — he finds them quickly and prods at them with pressure so good that it makes Mark moan. You laugh as if you're right; your boyfriend's really good, and the boy you've been eyeing is taking it well.

However, you’re getting impatient, having this go for too long for you to be satisfied.

You take good use of both of your hands and pull down their boxers, each hand being careful yet swift as you fist the fabric out of their skin, watching their beautiful cocks bounce. This interrupts the kissing — they gasp in unison and it’s music to your ears.

Unfortunately, you don’t follow up with any more words, leaving them to look at you with wide eyes. All you do is giggle to yourself, pat the tips of their oversensitive and deliciously hard lengths, and silently command them to do something.

Jeno acts first: eyes darting down to Mark's impressive length, he slides his thick cock beside the other. Their shafts rub, making Mark bite his lip, but his mouth opens anyway as their reddish-pink tips kiss each other.

Their size differences are more apparent this way; Jeno's cock seems thicker, and Mark's is longer. Deep in hyper-analysis, you urge them once again to rub their cocks together with simultaneous handjobs.

The sudden reintroduction of their hands leaves Mark squirming next to Jeno. He instinctively holds onto his shoulders for support, an adorable sight that neither of you has ever seen nor expected from "the dependable Mark."

You're slow with it first. Your hand makes its way from the tips, thumbs prodding playfully at the tiny holes sitting atop, only for your fingers to form rings, wrapping each individual digit around gradually as your palms slide down their lengths. Once you've wrapped the pinky around, you're at the base of their cocks, teasing to cup their balls — but before they could even moan for more, you're sliding up again. After a few more strokes, the pace picking up with each full slide up and down, they hump your hands with your pace until you pull away.

“I can’t be doing all the work.”

Your words are intimidating. The two boys take it with confusion as they lock eyes for a moment, cocks twitching centimeters away from each other.

Out of pure desperation, Mark thrusts his hips upward, rubbing his cock well up against Jeno's. The friction leaves him breathless, sharp bursts of pleasure combing through his nerves. With their closeness, Jeno could only mirror his movement in response. He holds Mark by his face with one hand, reaching his other down to connect their tips in his palm. The gesture shocks them both, the distance closing into zero inches, crotches and groomed bush hair pressed together.

You catch wind of Jeno’s heavy breaths. “You’re panting, baby.”

He looks up at you through hooded eyes, head thrown slightly back in pleasure. “I’m excited.”

“Such a puppy.”

Mark looks back and forth between the both of you as you exchange hot words. The buildup of heat in his stomach goes further down to his crotch until Jeno could feel the warmth on his cock's leaking tip. Embarrassed, he wordlessly attempts to turn his head away, but your hands—slimy as they are—hold his chin in place. He seems excited too, Jeno thinks to himself.

You move your hand with Mark’s chin on it close to your boyfriend’s face, coercing Jeno to kiss him again. Their mouths quickly open, jutting their tongues out to greet each other as they practically hump each other with their cocks pressed close. Jeno breaks away from the kiss to breathe, resting his forehead on Mark’s — the eye contact that they share after doesn’t break, though.

It’s an intense stare that holds no hard feelings, only incredibly hard cocks rubbing together as they near their highs. Mark seems to chase it first, but before anything could happen, you cock your head to the side.

You slap Mark’s bulging cock with a fierce spank.

It hurts only lightly, only since you slapped it with less of a force and more of a flick of your hand, but it still stings. Mark almost falls over, only caught by Jeno’s strong and muscular arms.

“What was that for?” Tears well up in his eyes but he doesn’t sound upset at all. He just genuinely wants to ask why he was denied the high and you can hear nothing but desperation in his voice.

All you do, though, is laugh in response. Jeno looks at him with fond eyes too, except he knows he’s in trouble next: his cock also started leaking precum. You run the pad of your thumb atop his leaking hole, blocking the flow ever so slightly. You then guide your boyfriend’s cock back to Mark’s, but you hold their shafts together in place with your one stretched hand, precum mixing and all.

“We’ve barely even started and you’re both acting like this?” Your voice is sultry yet stern.

The two merely whimper and shy their faces away. Mark looks down at the scene and amusement hits him all at once. The sight of his body and Jeno’s, naked and sweaty and held together by a singular hand on their cocks, makes him shiver and bite his lip.

“Sorry,” Jeno utters first, “I-It just felt too good.”

A breeze bellows through the room and it leaves all three of you with your hair raised, but you don’t budge a single bit. You turn to Mark.

“I…” Mark starts to speak yet nothing of substance comes out.

“Excuses are nothing, I know you’re both desperate.” Your hand leaves their slimy cocks. You don’t hesitate as you bring a finger to your mouth, tasting their sins as they writhe before you in slight embarrassment.

“How about you both show me how much you want me?”

It’s not supposed to be as shocking as it is, but the realization hits them both incredibly late that you’re still fully clothed, mostly untouched, left to be their eye candy as they fondled each other earlier. Jeno and Mark’s gazes fall through your entire body in all directions as they plot how they could start pleasing you.

Even if they both clearly wanted you, they restrained themselves and took out their desires on each other. That’s very obedient and patient of them, you think, and you don’t think it’s wrong to enjoy the sight.

Jeno's grasp on Mark loosens and leaves as he inches towards you, sweat dripping and everything, closing his face in on yours to kiss your lips deeply. You two always do this, accustomed to each other's rushes of warmth and intimacy every single time you kiss, and so it feels natural as Jeno latches his mouth on your neck next. His hands, trembling slightly yet not at all unsure, make their way to trace up the outline of your sides until they find your breasts.

He breaks away from working on a neck hickey as he examines your chest, restrained by layers of clothing that he wants off. Instead of impatiently reaching over the fabric, he takes his time to lift it from under and urge you to move it over your head. Mark watches intently, almost studying the movements while he refrains from reaching down for his pulsating cock.

Dare he even touch himself to the sight as he may be punished by not just you, but also Jeno.

“Not gonna do anything?” Jeno faces Mark with a smirk.

Mark stammers as he finds his words to ask permission. “Dude—uhm, can I?”

You laugh at how his hands hesitate to touch you, eager to even get ahold of your bra but still too scared.

“Please?”

All you do is smile with a nod. Jeno gives him way, pointing at the hook of the bra.

He first grabs ahold of your breasts by holding the bra cups, only to slide his hands to the sides of the undergarment, tracing your upper body until he's made his way backward; his fingertips find the hooks, unclasping them with only a bit of struggle — he knows what he's doing, he just gets nervous as your boobs flow out of the loosened bra.

It takes him a moment to even acknowledge that the beautiful view of your boobs inches away from his chest is all his doing. Jeno lets out a light snort, swinging his arm over Mark's red shoulders. He's blushing all over, flustered to high heavens.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Damn right,” Mark agrees. “You’re fucking lucky, dude.”

Jeno pecks Mark’s heated cheek. “So don’t bring her in the next bets, yeah?”

The things that they say ring through your ears loudly. You’re living for Jeno’s protectiveness, Mark’s shocked expression, and the fact that they both proceed to work their way on your lower half.

They urge you out of your pants, the two men helping your legs out, kissing your skin as they expose themselves. You can't help but chuckle, moan a little bit, and even grab onto their skilled yet calloused hands. The two are unexpectedly gentle, working surprisingly in tandem to even just get you out of your clothes, all until you're naked.

All until they’re yours.

Jeno ends up kneeling down in front of you like a patient dog. Mark stands by your side, waiting.

As adorable as they are, you’re growing desperate for some more action, so you grab ahold of Mark’s cock and whisper in his ear.

“Be a dear and tell my baby to kiss me there.”

Mark gulps, tongue caught in a twist as he musters the courage to relay it to Jeno.

“Uhh, sh-she said…lick—no, kiss her.”

Jeno looks up at you in confirmation. You pet his head with your other hand. There are hearts in his eyes.

Without another word, Jeno doesn’t waste a second as he dives his head down.

Fiddling between your legs, he holds you by the backs of your inner thighs and does as he’s told. He nudges his nose around the area to get himself closer and closer to your heat. He kisses you, puckering his lips and smacking your clit ever so sweetly. He gets a light taste of your sweetness dripping wild from watching the two men act desperately earlier. You hum in content, stroking Mark's cock—still in your hand—ever so slightly.

Mark dips his head onto your neck. He attempts to kiss you in the same way Jeno does, warm and loving. Jeno himself digs his head further between your thighs, licking wide stripes with his tongue tapering up to the tip as he gets back on your clit. You shiver with a lustful smile.

Jeno continues to swirl his tongue from your clit back down to your entrance, allowing your slick to mix in with his drool. Mark refuses to even look you in the eye from all of the sinful sounds he’s hearing — you remedy that by pecking a kiss on his cheek mole.

“If you weren’t so cute, you’d be dead by now.”

Mark’s cock stiffens at that. It throbs, a long vein pulsing against your palm from your words alone. A part of him hates to admit that he’s glad he took up the bet if it led him here.

You grab a fistful of your boyfriend’s hair out of nowhere, pulling slightly at his scalp to signal him up. He misreads this at first, instead nodding his head back into your cunt, but you let out a light grunt and a hiss.

“Mmph—Sorry,” Jeno says, hands wobbling awkwardly at the backs of your thighs for support. “Needed me, baby?”

You raise an eyebrow. “I wanted you to only kiss me there, but…”

Jeno dips his head to apologize. He mutters on and on about how good you tasted, how sweet it felt, how lovely and velvety the skin around your clit was while he licked it. Mark’s face heats up impossibly more at the descriptions and subtle praises that Jeno has for your pussy.

“Oh, look who’s the jealous one now.”

Mark’s sweating bullets. “I-I’m not!”

“You can have a turn at it if you’d like.” The suggestion runs off your lips casually. So casual that it leaves him slightly puzzled, cock still aching in your hand.

“How about only ten seconds in my cunt?”

He blinks three times. You’re all down to absurd means of getting each other off and you’re about to fully abandon the circumstances that got you here. That got the both of them here.

He whips his head towards your boyfriend for approval, and Jeno only nods his head in your direction. "Her orders, man."

You laugh and kiss Mark, urging him down on the bed behind him. You push him by his shoulders and the look on his face, wide eyes and all, has you smirking.

“Ten seconds. Just to try it.”

You align your slit to match his red, slimy tip, sliding your cunt from your clit down to your wet entrance. You don’t let him in just yet, instead teasing him with a few slides, letting him feel the velvety friction of your pussy lips before he gets a taste of everything else.

“That feels good,” he breathes out.

“It’s not even in yet.”

“I’m just feeling as much as I can,” Mark smiles nervously. “I only got ten seconds after this—”

Before he could even get cocky, you fully sit down on his cock, slamming your cunt until he’s all the way inside.

He shivers, hitting his head back on the bed in pure pleasure. The wetness of your walls envelops him with a warmth he hasn’t felt anywhere else. Slowly yet surely, he begins to lose his mind to delirium as his cock throbs, almost vibrating inside you.

“Ten,” Jeno counts for you, watching the part where you both connect as he sits politely next to you both.

He refuses to touch himself even as he watches you lift your lower half away from Mark, the slick of your essence and leftover drool from Jeno slipping down the cock.

“Nine,” he continues, breath hitching as you wiggle your hips.

At this point, only Mark's tip is inside you, but before he can even do anything, you slam your hips back down. The smack of your ass on his thighs makes him groan loudly, the sweetness of his voice echoing in your ears.

“Eight.” You repeat your motions, swirling your hips slightly and letting the wetness drip ever so gracefully down your thighs onto his. “Seven.”

Mark rolls his eyes back. His balls hurt at this point. He’s strained and frustrated.

He turns his head. “Holy shit, Jeno, I’ll cum—”

“Hold it, easy now.” Unimpressed, Jeno instead leans forward to talk him down.

“Five,” he whispers, “four…”

All Mark can do is whimper through a bitten lip. Your hands roam around his chest for support, the unforgiving sensations haunting his skin as you touch his most sensitive areas.

“Three…”

Mark hisses. “Won’t you count any fucking slower?”

“Oh, you want me to cut it out?” You say with a stop.

Regret immediately washes over his wide eyes as you lift yourself off his dick.

“So close yet so far. What a pity,” you laugh, turning to your sweet boyfriend and feeling him up instead.

You maneuver your hips and align yourself over Jeno’s cock, teasing him the same way you did with Mark. You don’t enter yet and keep your wetness dripping on him before giving the neglected boy a wink.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t try my ass.”

A shock instantly rushes through his veins, coloring his skin flushed once more. He's been sweating, and it worsened once you suggested it. He tries to say anything about it but falls short of words when you urge him closer with the call of your fingers. Jeno watches in awe, lightly frustrated that his cock is so close to your cunt.

You grab Mark from the back, guiding his hips close to yours. He’s kneeling, holding onto your waist and hips for stability, ready to position his cock by your second entrance. He licks his hand, a generous amount of spit and drool wetting it, just more than enough for him to lube up your hole to take him.

Jeno’s cock throbs cutely from under, so you coo and kiss his tip with the warmth of your clit. He bites back a whimper.

It isn’t long before you invite Mark to enter you, lining up and guiding his cock inside, slowly stretching your tightest hole until the tip is in. Mark’s breathing heavily, sweating buckets as he feels how tight it is, hugging just the tip so hard that he could explode at any given moment.

You push your lower half back, adjusting to his girth and length, taking him inch by inch. You’re panting too, strained little moans escaping your throat as you struggle and succeed to take him all the way to the middle.

Once you’re nearly bottoming him out, you both still in place, allowing yourselves time to adjust.

Jeno still looks pitiful with his cock pushed against nothing but your clit. It only gives you an idea.

“Mark. Be a dear and fuck me hard when we’re good, yeah?”

Confused, he agrees with a nod. You both signal each other when it feels best to move, and with that, Mark fully pulls back before slamming his entire length back into your fit little ass.

The force from his thrust pushes you forward, sinking Jeno’s cock deep into your pussy.

The sudden action leaves Jeno groaning and Mark grunting. Both of their cocks fill you up with no room to breathe, the sensation of the two pulsating and hard lengths making you shake. You feel yourself close but you hold back for their sake.

Another thrust from Mark sends your cunt further down on Jeno’s cock. Your boyfriend even begins moving his hips, emptying your pussy only to fill it back up again. The other doesn’t stop, almost losing himself as he goes faster and faster, bit by bit, ecstasy hitting him soon.

“Mark, baby, you’re doing so good.”

Eyes lighting up, it takes five seconds—and a few moans in between—for Mark to realize that he’s the baby that you’re referring to.

Jeno also catches it late, but instead of the jealousy seeping back into his veins, the opposite manifests. He smiles, somehow proud of Mark for sharing a name that they both earned from you.

“Baby, come on, make me cum.”

You lean back, an arm thrown over to hold onto Mark for support. He keeps going, pushing his cock against your limit with each thrust, all the while Jeno leans forward to reach your clit and tease it.

Being filled and fucked all at once like this has all three of you on edge, but Mark can’t take it — he slips out of your ass and cums all over your back.

You don’t mind, instead falling forward to bounce on Jeno’s cock while he cums inside you next. That doesn’t stop him from flicking your clit with his experienced fingers, and you squirt all over him.

All three of you collapse on the bed, trying to overcome your highs.

“…That was fucking insane, man.”

Mark is the first to sit up, eyeing the both of you fucked out on his own bed. He has to clean up a lot, so much that it’s lightly embarrassing, but none of you seem to mind at all at that moment.

“Yo Jeno.”

Too tired to move his body, he simply raises an eyebrow while looking back at Mark. “What’s up?”

"I swear on my dick I'm not playing with you and Y/N, aight?" He scratches the back of his head, suddenly getting shy. "And, uh, I'm still sorry for the bet."

“Nah, it’s good. Just say you won, get the money, and run.”

Mark realizes that it could’ve just been that easy, that he didn’t have to do any of that. It’s way too late now, but at least he won and got laid.

“...And you can treat us to dinner with that cash,” Jeno adds with a wink.

The boy simply rubs his flushed face in his hands and sighs. Dinner with his newfound fuckmates isn’t so bad after all.

“Well, you’re free to shower, clean up, sleep, do whatever—”

You grab ahold of Mark’s arm and pull him back on the bed. He falls right between you and Jeno’s warm bodies.

Jeno shushes him with a side hug, and you giggle softly. Somehow none of this feels as disgusting as it should be while all three of you are in each other’s arms.

#nct dream smut #sub!nct dream #sub!jeno #jeno smut #sub!mark lee #mark lee smut #dom!reader #💬 z is writimg

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