#fuck those quests from the bottom of my chest

[zwei-rhunen]

WAIT

THIS BETTER NOT BE A REPEAT OF ARRS MFING HEROES FEAST or whatever it was called. swear to god

Literally, my ongoing train of thoughts were:

"lol i just had the MCH feast but okay sure"

........ wait. why does this feel.. familiar.

why do i feel disgust and dread and irritation?

/war flashbacks to the overly long and tedious endless, useless chain of fetch quests for the company of heroes

oH, NAH. this better not be like that again.

no. No!

NONONONONO

/deep sigh

i'm not afraid to abandon the MSQ for another 6-9-12 months if it turns out to be like THAT experience lmfao. absolutely not.

they could have cut out that ENTIRE segment and played a bunch of cutscenes of the WoL helping out that useless group.

it didnt even contribute to the storytelling, apart from making IRL me irritated. like there was zero value in suffering thru it all.

you can torture my character all you want, but you can also do that without pissing the human off lmfaoooooo

[kiwipineappleparasol]

Sonic WIPs and Scribbles from 2023 (Notes Below)

Gave Chaos the Angel Chao ... "Ears" ? So that All Forms (Neutral/Dark/Hero) have some form of Representation. (The two split ... Hair? Things? In the back already resemble the Devil Chao, since the Light Chao only has one.)

Solaris Exists! ... Crazy. I recall this redesign being bit tricky because it was just so hard to see what the fucking thing looked like Originally, but I did my best. Tried to show the Bird/Eagle Theming, and to simplify the design so People like Me could understand it. I wanted this design to look like a counterpart to Chaos -- because in this AU, Solaris is from, you'll never guess...the Sol Dimension!

Gave Team Dark a sort of... cohesive color scheme with eachother, so they really look like a Unit. Plus, Rouge wearing Red just... Makes sense, considering her name, even if I enjoy the Purple color scheme as well.

Similar color scheme thing here with the Babylon Rogues -- They all share Red/White/Yellow -- I took the darker colors out of these designs to not be so similar to Team Dark haha. The amount of points on each of their...Chest...Fluffs?? matches the amount of feathers they have on their head Respectively . Changed Storm the most -- I wanted to make his "Hair" Silhouette more Unique from Wave's, and really just wanted an excuse to give a character a Cool Jacket . The Shoes ... I phoned those in a bit, I'll probably change them Later...

Sharddddddd. Throughout my Scribbles (including some here) You might've seen me struggle to decide what Quill Style to give him -- his OG style? Or the Metal Sonic style? Eventually, I decided I didn't need to choose -- I could do both. It's not demonstrated that well in these, but it's basically the same style the Bits have in Sonic Universe: The Silver Age -- just thinner and more Pointy .

Ahhh Faceless Jumpscare! This is what they look like when I'm trying to work on Poses and Colors but don't want to Commit to a Face yet, haha . Nicole, I'm always changing her design it seems -- don't be surprised if it happens again! But I based her handheld off various devices Tails uses -- I wanted it to be compact while being more Modern than the Nokia Flip Phone. Changed her hologram form slightly to resemble her handheld -- her ears are the antenna, and the rings are on her feet like how the ring is plugged in at the bottom. Made her vest longer too! So it looks more like her Reboot Outfit . Just a little.

And that's mostly it! I've been on a quest to draw Every Character in my Sonic Au -- I've sketched about... 35 so far? Here's a Screenshot of a bit of the Madness on that canvas haha.

[pursuitseternal]

“Arising” to the climax of “Our Blood is Thicker”

Astarion x Cordehlia (Named Tav) | E | 3.6 K

Love to @marimosalad , my illustrator and co creator

Summary: Cazador’s dungeons, where his love is reduced to a hostage to ensure his willingness in the Rite of Profane Ascension. The Pale Elf and the Bone Picker are faced with an even more desperate choice in that glow of Infernal magic.

CW: violence, angst, Pale Elf Quest spoilers, heartache, impossible choices, Catharsis, and near death experiences.

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Chapter 18: Arising…

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Dagger bit flesh, one last werewolf felled in the Ballroom. Blood everywhere, it covered them all, but Astarion grinned in wicked delight as he took in their progress. The Palace would be gutted, and she would be saved. Cazador would be dead, and with any luck, he might just ensure immortality and power and prestige for them both. Forever.

He looked into the faces of his friends, all just as bloodied and breathless as he was.

And what was more, they all grinned back, panting and bent over with exhaustion some, well, Gale unsurprisingly. But they all were with him.

It took a matter of moments for them to find the way to the dungeons, his stomach sinking, his undead heart somehow racing, almost tangible again in his chest as they lowered to the crypt.

Foul air hit their faces, rot and putrefaction and mold, a place he didn’t even know existed. And yet, somehow, the perfect place for Cazador to wallow and bait his trap. The sewer rat that he was.

Cells lined the walls once they reached the bottom, hundreds of glowing red eyes staring at him, clamors of parched voices, some that had haunted him for centuries.

“Are all these…?” Shadowheart’s question died on her lips as the answer became too clear.

“Targets… Victims…. More… spawn….” Astarion kept his eyes fixed ahead. “They should have been dead, drained and dismembered,” he hissed, betrayal upon betrayal festering in his stomach now. “He must need them, must be part of his plan….”

“There must be hundreds… thousands…” Halsin’s voice almost shook at the atrocity.

But atrocity had been a daily part of his life for all his years enslaved. Astarion could only push forward, unable to look or listen at the faces he still saw in his nightmares, those torturous visions that plagued him any time he wasn’t dreaming about…

“Cordehlia,” he froze outside a cell, empty and blood spattered. Crouching, he touched his fingers in the red pool of sticky blood and licked it. “Her scent is here,” he whispered, pressed and taught as every instinct to kill began to take hold. “She was here, but it’s not her blood,” he stood smirking. “Ghast and werewolf, at least she put them through the hells, by the look of it. Unarmed too.” He absentmindedly tapped the dagger at his hip.

“Of course she did,” Karalch gave a small, slight laugh, unusual for her. “That’s our girl.”

“But it doesn’t tell why so many other victims, why so many monsters,” Wyll’s voice sliced through as sharp as his blade.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance….”

The scent of brimstone and sulfur, the sting of Infernal magic in the air, that velvet baritone voice, only one Cambion would offer help one last time… just a small, black and molten form hovered at their eye level. Slowly, those dark sunken eyes, that hard-lined face materialized before them all. Half-formed from the neck up, that familiar face smirked at them.

Raphael.

“What the fuck do you want?” Astarion rounded, fangs bared and fists clenched. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit too busy to thank you for gracing us with your presence, devil,” Astarion snapped, sarcasm dripping from his words as he gave a subtle bow of his head. “If you slow me down now, you’ll find yourself short not two… but three horns someday….”

He didn’t mean horns alone. That made Karlach snicker.

But Astarion couldn’t enjoy the mirth, not when he was so very close now. That hurried bite in his words, he met Raphael’s black stare with disgust. “I don’t know why you think we might need assistance, what with facing down my old master with his army of an untold, unknown number of spawn, oh and he has the love of my life somewhere here….” He sneered, feral and fangs flashing. I think we have it under control, Raphael, so you can burst into mist and let me keep… going.” Spit flying, he snarled by the end.

“The spawn are not an army, my toothsome friend, they are his offering to Mephistopheles, the seven-thousand souls required for Cazador’s Ascension, in addition to your siblings’ and yours of course.”

The information smacked him in the chest. And every one of his companions seemed to stop breathing. “Seven-thousand souls…” Gale barely whispered in horrified reverence. Astarion rolled his eyes, of course the Wizard couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“But there is more you should know, my friends. Cazador has sampled some, a mere sliver, of the power the Vampire Ascendant will possess once the Rite is completed. That’s how he faced the thin light of dawn, how his spawn could appear in your rooms, how he could subdue that menacing and beautiful future bride of yours, Astarion.”

“I’d prefer if you quit spying on us, strange devil,” Astarion’s nostrils flared. “But since you’ve seen so much, any last warnings or advice for once?”

The black, molten form of Raphael suddenly looked very serious. “Take care of his bite,” he warned with deadly tone. “One fang through the skin, and the necrotic magic of the Ascendant will take hold, death will be slow but inevitable, allowing for the Vampire Lord enough time to decide, to torture or to turn his victim…. But there will be no amount of magic that can prevent that fate.”

Every breath held tight, even Astarion. Dread formed over his slow-beating heart, arms aching to hold her one more time. Heavy silence fell, once again broken. “By Silvanus,” Halisin sighed.

“Just remember, it wasn’t Silvanus who warned you, Astarion, it was me…” Raphael’s rippling voice chuckled into nothing as the apparition faded as well.

“For fucks sake…” Karlach bemoaned their situation as she loaded arrows into her crossbow. “Nobody is getting bitten today, dammit.”

“No,” Astarion rolled his shoulders and flashed them a smile… the deadliest they had ever seen, more fangs than mirth, more darkness in his eyes than crimson as he glanced one more time where his love had been held. “But someone is going to be turned inside out for what they have done to me and my love.” He unsheathed his shortsword and her glittering dagger with a hiss of metal. “I can promise you that.”

Air stung with magic, stank with rot. He could feel the scars on his back stinging, glimpsing the way his six siblings hung suspended by magic, their own scars aglow with infernal power.

But that wasn’t what his eyes searched for. The second he spied her at the bottom of the stairs, her skin pale and fiery hair tangled, he couldn’t stop. Astarion flew headlong into the danger, the second her silver eyes locked into his, a smile of love and relief and bloodlust crossed her own face, he only hastened all the more.

Cazador held her firm, her body clutched against his chest, arms bound before her with simple rope. “The prodigal son returns,” his Master called, even as Astarion panted and rushed with blade and dagger drawn. “You're so predictable, boy, so easy to break and crack into pieces.”

A roar in his throat, her bright dagger raised over his head, he was ready to strike. Until Cazador waved that massive staff, a wall of hot magic, singeing and red, slammed into him. He was so close, barely an arm’s reach from her… from him. But glowing red sigils burned around his wrists, his breath catching as it scorched in his throat. “I’m going to fucking kill you!”

“Only if you don’t let me do it first,” Cordehlia hissed and thrashed, elbowing the vampire in his chest. To no effect.

“It’s going to be quite hard to do that, now that my will has wrapped itself around you again, boy.”

The circlets of red grew brighter, Astarion grunting as he bit his teeth firmly shut. He wouldn’t give Cazador the satisfaction of another scream or grunt in pain. “Fuck you,” he ground out against the agony rushing through his body. “You have me, let her go, you bastard.”

“I’ll let her go, once she witnesses you fulfilling your true destiny, thankless child.” Cazador cackled, waving that fearsome staff of his to intensify the hissing sounds of flesh burning, increasing the glow of those shackles on her love’s wrists. “You were made to be consumed.”

“Astarion!” Cordehlia cried, wrestling against the iron hold around her frame. “No, you were made to destroy, my love. You were made in the darkness under pressure like adamantine, just like me. You were made to avenge yourself against him….”

“Shut up, you whore,” Cazador gripped his hand around her mouth, but she bit through his pale, flaky skin, only to yell louder once that vampire squealed in pain.

“He killed your parents, he beat me from your memory, used you, defiled you, and yet we found each other again. You will fight, my love, fight and win, Astar—“

That cold, steely grip clutched around her throat, and Cordehlia sputtered for air beneath it.

Astairon’s body writhed, twisting and strengthening as he grit his teeth and closed his eyes. Every iota of his love for her boiled to the surface, every bit of his rage burst from inside him, his need to be free, to be with her exploded from within. Hissing, shattering, the binding magic broke from his wrists. The sigils of his infernal scars decimated in an instant, and Astarion stretched his arms and bared his fangs. The only thing brighter than his teeth was that dagger still held firmly in his fingers.

Freed.

“Impossible…” Cazador snarled, his fingers releasing from her throat enough for Cordehlia to gasp in some air. “Even now, you resist? Foolish, stupid boy and his foolish, stupid whore.” Long fingers gripped into her hair and pulled her head sharply to the side, her neck bones almost cracking at the force. “You should have known your place, child.”

Astarion’s eyes seemed to watch it all happen so slowly… the way her hands opened, her eyes locked on her dagger in his grip… the narrowing of her gaze, ordering him to toss it wordlessly….

It happened so quickly, so slowly at once. That bright dagger sailed through the air, unwavering from his dexterous grip until it landed square in her outstretched hand. A smile crossed his face as she held it firm and fast, turning it to sink it into the soft belly behind her. A satisfied slick noise filed the dungeon as it sank home.

But her face flashed from triumph to agony. From bloodlust to torment. Astarion’s eyes flew from her perfect lips, her shining eyes to the set of fangs that now buried in her neck.

Watching in horror as Cazador sank his deadly fangs in her flesh.

Instantly, he released that bite, dagger buried in his gut through his ostentatious jerkin. The vampire stumbled back, that nefarious staff of his falling to the ground. But as their companions descended on his old master with light spells and damaging blows, Astarion could only move slowly, as if trapped in quicksand, reaching to catch her.

Her body was shaking, necrotic streaks already darkening the shallow bite on her neck. Perfect pale skin stained dark, her beautiful face gathering beads of sweat as the poison already crept through her veins. Astarion could only cradle her, warm tears finally dripping down his cheek, lips unable to say much of anything but the music of her name over and over again as he held her against his chest.

Throat bobbing, she swallowed through the agony, “I got him, didn’t I?”

“Yes, my love,” a feeble smile and tear streaked voice replying as he stroked her hair. All he could hear was the slowing beat of her heart, the din of battle beyond them so distant, so… unimportant compared to finally holding her once more.

Maybe only one more time.

Halsin crowded over them, “Bring him here,” he ordered to the rest of their party. Scuffling and dragging, slung between Karlach and Wyll, Cazador hung limp, but still alive. Or undead. Halsin pawed at Astarion’s shoulder, something warm and assuring and irritating about it all at once. “It’s for you to decide.”

Astarion looked up, eyes burning with hate as he locked his gaze on his old master. But he couldn’t bring himself to let her go, not with the way her arms clung around his chest, the way her heart seemed to slow beneath his own ribs. “Do something, Cleric,” he snarled, gesturing with his head at how his love began to visibly shiver.

“Astarion…” Shadowheart tried to cajole, but he would not take that patronizing tone.

“Halsin, Gale,” he snapped their names. “What good is all that magic and faith if you can’t heal her.”

“The devil said it wasn’t curable, but I could try to slow the poison,” Halsin finally sighed. “But there is only one solution to this…”

“My death,” Cordehlia shuddered, teeth chattering as her flesh began to grow impossibly cold. “I can… feel it. Have dreaded this for so long…”

“Or your undeath….” He whispered, just to himself. Astarion glanced up, taking in the carnage and misery and atrocity around them. Blood-slicked stone, throbbing infernal magic still holding his siblings bound by their scars. That one missing space meant for his death, waiting to be filled to complete the Rite…. “Do what you can to buy us time, Druid,” he ordered, lifting her shaking body towards the Elf, to place in his arms, carefully like the tender babe she was to him. “I have matters to attend to.”

“Astarion,” Cordehlia moaned as she was moved. “What are you d-doing?”

“What I promised you,” he knelt as Halsin rested her against him on the ground, cradling her in his large, warm arms. “I’m going to save you, to protect you, to make you my Bride.”

“Seven… th-thousand…” she managed to say before a wrack of pain shot through her body and made her teeth snap tight.

Her love’s palm cradled her cheek, his breath cold on her lips as he kissed her so, so softly. “Seven-thousand souls is a small price to pay to save your one, beautiful one,” he murmured.

“A-starion…” she managed to hiss through her torment.

“Yes, my darling?” he replied, lips still brushing hers even as they, too, grew cold.

“Use… my dagger,” she swallowed.

Astarion smiled, a kiss on her forehead, cold and wet with her body’s agony. “Anything for you, my treasure.”

Standing, he crossed to that monster, his former tormentor, and threw Cazador’s tunic up over his head. Raising at last, he found Gale’s hand so close, that bloodied, bright dagger in his offering palm. “Use the tadpole,” the Wizard nodded. “See your own scars, and it should suffice to appease the Infernal contract.” He winced as he heard his own words. “Do it for Cordehlia.”

Never before had he disrobed faster, armor and shirt lying at his feet as he took that warm blade in his hand. Astarion could say nothing, had to ignore the way he could just see from the corner of his eyes at how the Druid tried every kind of magic to draw the poison out. Shaking his head, he kept that focus locked on the sight of his own back, seeing his scars through Gale’s eyes. But all the while, he kept his pointed ear trained on Cordhelia’s heart, how it sometimes raced and sometimes slowed. And it only spurred his own markings to be that much sharper and more precise in that monster’s flesh. A matter of moments, and he finally pronounced his work completed.

He picked up that horrific staff, ignoring the way it vibrated in his hand, overwhelmed by its rush of magic as it coursed up his arm and down his spine. Power like nothing he could have ever imagine flooded his body, instantly his tongue danced over the words of the Profane Rite, put on his lips by the magic in the air. He could have watched with twisted pleasure as Cazador’s nearly-broken body flew to be suspended in his own place. He could have savored the way magic raced up and down every nerve as the spell tripped off his tongue, as the staff seemed to move his body of its own.

No, all he could watch was Cordehlia’s silver eyes fluttering, fighting to stay open to watch him ascending. All he could savor was the way his heart filled with the promise of a power so overwhelming, he could finally do something worthy of her. Finally able to save her. Feeling it finally begin to beat for her again.

The world around him seemed to still, to sharpen and explode all at once. Dropping that staff to the ground, he rushed to her once more. Her hand trembled in his grasp, skin waxy and cold. Halsin’s big green eyes looked back at him, grief stricken and saying more than words could. He passed her feeble body into Astarion’s outstretched arms as he crouched on the dirty floor beside them. Her head lolled against his shoulder, silver eyes half shut, forced open to looking into his handsome face until the end.

“You’ll have to fight poison with poison,” the Druid smiled weakly, trying to reassure the Ascendant being before him that radiated magic, Astarion’s skin paler than death and eyes glowing like demonic flame.

Astarion nodded, he didn’t want to do this here. Not in a dungeon, not in his old home of such torment, and certainly not in front of all the others. But there was no choice now, and the price paid was too great to fail now. “Cordehlia,” he whispered in her ear, “thank you for trusting me, I just need you to trust me a little further.”

She managed a nod with her eyes still barely opened.

Blood filled his mouth, and fangs sank into the holes Cazador had made. His mouth sucked the tainted blood from her veins, almost souring his stomach as he drank until the taste of that monster’s magic was gone from her body.

Until there was only the taste of her on his tongue again.

And yet, even as she showed all the signs of being bloodless, her heart beat steadied with his magic now in her veins. It would be enough for now, enough to start her own rite, enough to keep her from true death for a while. He stood, feeling waves of power rippling from his muscles in new and strange ways. Suddenly far too aware of the way his heart thumped in his chest again—rapid and alarmed and living. Too ironic, too sad to be truly appreciated as her own pulse continued to slow. “We have to get her back to the Elfsong,” he pronounced, blood dripping down his chin, standing to carry her tenderly in his arms. “I will need to complete my work in privacy.”

Halsin cocked a brow. “Very well,” he nodded, leading them all back through the halls until they could reach the brush of daylight once more, followed by a simple teleportation back to their suite of rooms.

Not a second was wasted. Not now that he was so close. Ascended. Freed. More power at the tips of fingers than any of his kind had ever possessed. And yet his happiness laid unmoving against his chest, nearly lifeless against his now-beating heart.

Astarion kicked open the door to a set of rooms apart, setting her on the dark, postered bed. Quickly, he bit her wrist, sucking more and more of her sweet vintage straight from her veins.

His heart broke at all of what could have been, at all the various futures and paths that faded from view. She wasn’t even conscious to enjoy this union, to feel the way their essences combined into one, stronger and equal and powerful the more he drank her down. She couldn’t hear the little praises he poured over her, her ears deaf to every time he called her his love, his darling, his treasure, the mate of his heart and soul…

But he poured them over her barely-conscious face all the same, peppering her face with bloodied kisses even as it grew white as a sheet.

One last bite was all it would take. This love of his life, near dead and almost lost to him a second time, she would be his forever.

As his fangs sunk into her neck, marking afresh the scars that had formed there over their weeks reunited, he drank his fill. Breaking away at last once she neared the very dregs of her life, Astarion stopped. He was breathless, his stomach full to near bursting, even though it no longer throbbed with a spawn’s hunger.

Hand shaking, he brought his wrist to his teeth, tearing a slit in own flesh to place against her chalky lips. He could sense it entering her body, dripping down her throat to pool in her own belly. But he held his breath all the same.

Body rigid, he had never been more afraid than right now, not as his love’s life hung in the balance, not as she counted on his power to bring her back into the same realm as him, even if it was under the veil of undeath.

Her lips stirred first against his wound, just a little movement, just a slight suck. Crimson eyes flashed open were once silver ones shined at him, and Corehelia smiled as she sucked down his blood.

Astarion finally breathed, his chest easing at last.

His bride was arising.

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

I do know that Ascension can be divisive, however I hope this gives some firmer ground to stand on… spoonfuls of “Burn the world” for his love and “Touch her and you die” make it go down smoother, I hope. No more long lost love💞

Aeterna Amantes

3 more days until Chapter 19: Dark Kissing, when she awakens🩸💞🗡️

[zenkindoflove]

We need to know more about your fic Summer Heat…please share a snippet!!!

Okay, so the general idea is Summer Court is holding a summit for the Summer Solstice to invite the emissaries of Prythian to see their progress after the war, complete with all the regency festivities like a BALL. Of course, our bbs, Elain and Lucien will be attending.

Here is a snippet from Chapter 1 under the cut.

“Elain is going to have some discomfort, and that’s okay,” Rhys reassured him. “I hope she thrives in it. She’s been sitting idle for too long.” 

Lucien nodded his head, looking for any cue that he was dismissed. “Got it. Keep everyone in line and try not to make an ass of myself in front of my mate. I’ll see what I can do.” 

Lucien left their office, making his way through the halls. Although he'd known for weeks he would be attending this trip with Elain, seeing her in person had solidified the reality of how truly fucked he was. 

Jurian and Vassa gave him an earful just before he left. Both had a plethora of undesired advice ranging from “be as charming as you are with us!” (Vassa) and “flirt with other females” (Jurian, to which Vassa smacked him), but they both agreed that “make sure she sees you without a shirt” would be the best method. Even Tamlin had some words of wisdom, “You could always tell her that her hair looks clean,” which Lucien had belly-laughed harder than he remembered doing in years, missing the simpler times with his old friend. They may have broken Amarantha’s curse, but they had fallen far from grace all the same. 

As Lucien descended the stairs, he could hear music coming from the dining room, evidence that the girls were back to their dancing practice. He considered turning the other way and leaving out the back door to return to his apartment, but the golden tether in his chest halted his steps, quaking beneath his ribs. What would one more glimpse of her hurt? 

He slowly approached the practice space, leaning against the archway as he watched the scene play out in front of him. Elain had her back to him, standing a few feet from Mor and Nesta who were demonstrating the steps of the Summer Court waltz, which he knew from experience would be the opening dance for the ball. Mor was performing the male role and Nesta the female role. They were, of course, precise and lovely, but Lucien paid them no mind as he watched Elain studying their movements. She had her bottom lip between her teeth, frowning her eyebrows in concentration as she stared down at their feet. Like every time he saw her, he thought she was even lovelier than the time before, his memory unable to fully hold the capacity of her beauty. 

After a few rotations, Nesta pulled Elain over to her, instructing her sister to try. Lucien couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face watching Elain dance. She was unsure of herself, a novice to the steps, and clearly overwhelmed by her sister’s instructions. But similar to how she moved through the world, she danced with a lightness that Lucien could feel in his heart. As he watched Elain stumble through the motions, Nesta sighing dramatically and rolling her eyes, he began to feel like a voyeur. He glanced towards Mor who stared back at him. She smiled, nodding her head at the two sisters and opening her eyes wide in invitation. Almost as if to say, “See what I’m working with?”. 

Lucien inhaled deeply, his mate’s familiar scent of honey and jasmine blooming in his senses. Before he was a mated male, he would smoothly interject, sweeping her into his arms and letting his elegant, practiced skills do all the rest. Seducing females came easy to him, but nothing about Elain was easy. She erased every clever quip or joke with those big brown eyes. And more importantly, it was easy to flirt and seduce when there was next to nothing to lose. With her, he had everything to lose, and his quest for perfection paralyzed him. 

Fuck it. If everyone was giving him the same advice, and he had already tried letting her lead for years, maybe taking a risk wouldn’t be any worse than the stilted silence they lived in now. 

[carriagelamp]

I don't know what to say here this month. February, eh? Hate February, the Thursday of months, I'm just clinging to sanity while I wait for spring. Here are the books that helped me through what is basically a month of overcast skies and fucking winter rain.

Candy Color Paradox v6

Candy Color Paradox is a series I’ve been reading for years now and I’ve really enjoyed how the relationship in this one has progressed over that time. It started somewhat similar to how you’d expect a yaoi manga to start — lots of tension, drama, smut, and some light antagonism between the two main characters who both work at the same weekly magazine. But it’s eased into something that’s really quite genuine. This most recent volume focused entirely on moving in together and all the little complications and insecurities that arise because of that.

Circus of Fear

A 1980s D&D choose your own adventure novel so the quality is exactly what you would expect, but at the very least it was a fun little diversion. Doing a CYOA book with a friend can honestly be a blast, they just feel so silly, and the setting of a magical, vaguely sinister circus is always an enjoyable backdrop. We managed to get a good ending on the second try! So yay! I'd honestly like to read it again and try some of the other routes that also sounding intriguing.

Dungeon Meshi // Delicious in Dungeon v1

Me and my girlfriend started watching Dungeon Meshi because we’d seen so much about it on tumblr lately and wow. Just wow. It really is doing something special and we’re completely enamoured. Since we’re waiting for new episodes, I picked up the first book so we could compare it and the show — it’s really impressive how closely they align! And the art is really lovely, it stands out and not just for it's food glamour shots.

For those who haven't been seduced into watching the anime yet: Dungeon Meshi / Delicious in Dungeon is a DND-style parody in which the adventuring party needs to enter the monster-filled dungeon to save one of their companions who got eaten by a red dragon. They need to get to her and revive her before she entirely digested. However, to hasten their quest (and indulge one of their member’s strange obsessions) they begin to hunt and eat the monsters that fill the dungeon instead of trying to bring food in from the outside. This is 80% a cooking anime and 20% a comedic adventure anime. Book or show, doesn’t matter which, you should give it a try if you haven’t.

Down Among the Sticks and Bones

I really enjoyed the first book of the series, Every Heart A Doorway, and was excited when I found out there was a prequel about Jack and Jill and the world they visited. This can either be read as a prequel or it works fairly well as a stand-alone novella; the story is about twin sisters who have always been forced to fill very precise societal roles by their parents. One afternoon, they stumble across a magical door in the bottom of a chest and venture down into the sinister world of the moors where one sister is taken in by a vampire lord and the other by a mad scientist. The story looks at how the sisters grow and change when apart from each other and their controlling parents. Excellent story, the language is just so enticing.

Midnight Sun

My brother has been watching all the Twilight movies with a couple of his friends. Listening to him bitch about Jacob like it was 2007 reawakened something in me, so after laughing myself sick I had to go and relisten to Midnight Sun. Still genuinely and unironically love this book, it’s pure trash but by god it's my trash. I’m a simple soul.

Odder

I’ve been hearing great things about this book, and it’s hard to go wrong with Katherine Applegate so I was excited to finally read it. This is a book written entirely in free verse poetry about an orphaned otter and her experiences being rescued by the Monterey Bay Aquarium. It’s inspired by a true story (several true stories, actually!) and it's very worth picking up even if you don't usually go for poetry. It's charming and reads very easily.

Old-Fashioned Cupcake

A middle-aged salaryman is feeling worn down by the humdrum nature of his life, which is filled mostly with work these days. This manga kicks off with his coworker suggests that if he wants to deal with the feelings of boredom and aging, then he needs to do something to shake up his life: so he suggests that they “act like a pair of teenage girls” and go to a fancy new pancake shop just because it seems fun, never mind that it’s not something grown men are supposed to do. This manga ended up being pretty darn cute -- it was slow and compassionate and loving -- and it managed to convince me to buy its sequel.

Professor Calculus: Science’s Forgotten Genius

A ridiculous little book I bought on impulse that was nevertheless a lot of fun to read. It’s a tribute to Cuthbert Calculus, celebrating the 80th anniversary of his first appearance in Tintin. It dives into some of the inspirations that went into the character, and also lovingly and cheekily explores some "facts" we know about Calculus as a person… and wildly extrapolates more from there. It was a cute little read for anyone who’s a fan of the series and wants something a little extra.

Return to Oz

I recently rewatched this movie and maintain that I like it more than the original film, sorry. It made me decide to grab the novelization because I’m always a sucker for a novelization <3 This one was pretty solid too, it actually included details that were left out of the film and improve the stories overall cohesion which is always the marker of a good novelization.

Return to Oz takes place several months after the original film, when Aunty Em and Uncle Henry are trying to build a new house and get the farm back in order before winter. Concerned by Dorothy’s continued belief in Oz and her increased insomnia, Aunty Em decides to take her to a doctor who offers healing through electroshock therapy. Yeah, it’s exactly as fucking creepy as it sounds… You get a scary aslyum, a sinister head nurse, being strapped to a hospital gurney, and new baddies that scared the bejeezus out of me as a kid. Anyway, before she can be electrocuted, Dorothy manages to escape back to Oz where she discovers her friends are in dire need of help. It’s like Alice: Madness Returns but from Disney. Go watch this movie.

She Drives Me Crazy

I had very mixed feelings about this book. It’s about high school basketball player, Scottie, who has suffered a bad breakup with her girlfriend who moved schools to play on the opposing basketball team. Things go from bad to worse when she gets into a car accident with her arch-nemesis, the cheerleader Irene. One things lead to another and bada bing bada boom we have a fake dating scheme so that Scottie can get back at her ex.

This book had some genuinely fun moments (I’m always a sucker for a fake dating scheme, and the characters were reasonably fun) but it’s biggest failing is one that I’ve seen more than I like in current queer lit. It just tries so. fucking. hard. to be unproblematic. Like yeah, it’s great to see healthy relationships but it was SO explicit about it. So much therapy speak, way more than feels natural for a conversation or internal monolgue, especially when they’re in high emotions. The “banter” was very scripted. It was a book that felt like it had a laugh track. And while the ending was satisfying enough, it was also… I don’t know. Anticlimactic. We just spent so long tying everything up in a perfectly neat little bow that it really just strolled to an ending that was obvious from a mile away. 

Like look, I get it, we want this to be squeaky clean and beyond reproach, but I have NEVER entered a fake dating story hoping that everyone was going to be really sensible and respectful and level-headed. Fake dating is the slapstick of the romance world, I want some Shakespearean level bullshit, please don’t try to gussy it up for me. Gonna go and rewatch 10 Things I Hate About You or something just to feel things again. Or maybe pop over to AO3, your average fic writer at least understands that when I say fake dating I mean I want something absolutely fucking unhinged and filled to the gill with mutual pining.

So yeah, if you want a sports-based high school sapphic romance: it’s not a bad book. It went down easy, I liked listening to it in the mornings when I needed something light before work. Some bits I even quite enjoyed. But it’s not going to rock your world.

Shuna’s Journey

Well, if nothing else you can really, definitely tell this was done by Hayoa Miyazaki. I’m honestly not really sure how I felt about it. The art was beautiful, and the story was pure undiluted Miyazaki through and through. The narrative was very nice. The story and message was poignant. It was a nice book. I can’t say it’s stuck very heavily in my mind, but I enjoyed reading it. It felt like a precursor to Princess Monoke / Nausicaa, perhaps?

The Witches

The story of one child and his grandmother needing to contend with witches. Not fairytale witches. Real witches. And all their horrible, child-hating ways. One thing I will always love about Dahl is that when he wants to write about something Horrible, nothing will stop him. His villains are truly villainous and the witches are a prime example of that! I loved the description of the witches and their horrible, sinister deeds, especially in the first half of the book. This sure is Child Murder: The Novel! The ending was absolutely not what I was expecting, and I appreciate that. Such a bizarre book.

[ceejaykayess]

The long awaited sequel! Super-cute Cyber-girl AI-Ball Ene, at your service! I kid, I kid, I know no one saw the last post, because it didn’t get posted under the tag for some reason… ah well, second try’s the charm.

After hearing that next year’s Dazecon would be our last, it sorta kicked my ass into gear to get some more of these Kagepro ideas off my chest and onto paper. So, Ene, our deuteragonist to our beloved protagonist (derogatory).

I had a lot of thoughts ever since the first picture on how I wanted to draw Ene’s cyber form. Given Aiba and Tama’s designs, we have something of a base to work off of, but we need at least one more game for me to confidently declare what is and isn’t a pattern. What we can easily tell, at least, is that AI-Balls have white hair and and dress in mostly black and white. And while Ene does do the latter, she… doesn’t do the former. Why? Well… maybe you can figure it out?

But in terms of her design, while I mostly stick to her regular design, the things I want to point out (because it might not be super obvious with my image quality) are the glowing strands in her hair, a blue one in her fringe, a red one in her left pigtail, and a white one in her left. I suppose you could call them remnants of what should have been… I also want to point out her outfit- it’s skin-tight from the neck to the waist, the skirt being a part of the bodysuit. The sleeves are, almost ironically, like Miku’s in that they’re detachable. And the most AI-Ball feature to her are the tech veins that compose her legs, as opposed to generally lacking them as in most Kagepro material.

I made Ene’s gel form a rabbit, in consideration of those mini-sketch comics I read yonks ago that drew Ene’s pigtails as being like hands for her since hers are in her sleeves always. Also, I thought it’d be funny if the first time Shintarou saw it, he’d consider renaming her to Tono in honour of his rabbit.

In case it’s hard to read, the shocked Ene in the top right is saying, “Master! MASTER! Oh no, he can’t hear me, he’s wearing his Raycon:tm: Earbuds, supremely comfortable for all your needs-” The little sketch in the bottom right, of Shintaro face down in bed and Ene in rabbit mode on his bedside table, reads, “Get the fuck up Master, we’re goin’ to the amusement park today!” “Ene, I’m dying…”

Here's a link to the first picture of Shintaro that never posted properly. And here's a link to the follow-up Yaki picture.

How long had she been wandering? She wasn’t really sure. Sure, if she looked at a calendar, or even just the UI on near anyone’s digital device, she’d see that it had been a year, more even. But that wasn’t really what she meant.

When she first opened her eyes, she had a purpose. She wasn’t wandering- she was seeking. She wasn’t on a Journey, she was on a Quest. She had to find them, had to know what happened to them, because if she were here, like this, then the others, then he had to be-

But though she had a Quest, she had to figure it out, her newfound capabilities, how to parse the sheer amount of information that tried to force its way around her, through her, tried to twist the information that made up herself-

And by the time she had come to a balance with her newfound self, body made of numbers and pixels instead of blood vessels and organ systems, what she had been seeking had become old news, hearsay that was washed under the waves of time and new information and new tragedies and new things for people to talk about. The longer it took, the deeper the information was buried, and the deeper it was buried, the longer it would take for her to come and go.

But eventually, after months and months, 8 months and 17 days and 9 hours and 21 minutes and 2 seconds, 3 seconds, 4 seconds, she had bounced from Wiki article to Wiki article, dug through news archives, dragged herself through Towitter discussions and arguments dated around that August 15th, and a bit after, she had learned and pieced together thus: Three people were marked as dead. 14 people were injured, 9 of which being detained as members of the syndicate that caused the explosion. There was no mention of who died, or even of the state their bodies were in. There was no specific mention of their fourth, her annoying kouhai who was so bitter, who brought everyone down despite his brilliance, who everyone loved despite his acidic tongue and obvious disdain, who she hated because of how much it felt like she were looking at a mirror, her kouhai who was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, surrounded by rubble and mumbling things she could barely understand being in such a terrible state herself-

She felt herself lose it, the desperate, fickle hope she held in her oversized jumper, because what does it matter? For all intents and purposes, she was dead. As far as she was aware, as far as anyone was aware, her best friend was, too. Maybe even her kouhai. And her-

And-

That kind boy, the one that irritated her so, the one that she wanted to see every day, the one that made her feel this terrible, terrible way, he too is-

Gone. They’re all gone. So what’s the point? Her Quest was over. And she couldn’t even delete herself, backspace over the 1′s and 0′s that composed her new existence. She was too much of a coward to throw herself at a virus and let it have its way with her. She could just stay here until eventually this webpage rotted away, but the longer she stayed in proximity to this information, to this reminder, the more she felt like she needed to expel the non-existent contents of her non-existent stomach. So she ran. She left. She tried to separate herself from her name, from the life that could no longer be hers, that simply was no longer.

She wandered.

How long had she been wandering?

…

Long enough that she felt nostalgic, at least. Long enough that she’s actually contemplating her current course of action, long enough that she’s following through on that course even as she contemplates the wisdom.

Her current location, digitally, was in the mainframe of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department. Her destination was downstairs, 5 floors underground in fact. The Advanced Brain Investigation Squad. Her… former squad, to put it a way. She followed along the flow of data from the routers to the elevator, holding and holding and holding on to the connection as she sunk deeper and deeper and deeper until she felt like she might actually suffocate despite not needing air, before feeling the next router and leaping for it, bringing her all the way down to the abyss.

Taking in deep gasping breaths of nothing that still let her feel like a human, she looked around. The ABIS mainframe wasn’t anything special. Tunnelled far as hell away from anything else, sure, but nothing special. So much for the stupid old man and his so-called “professional coding skills”. Feh. She’s seen message boards with more interesting encryption.

Despite her trash-talking, she still looked around curious as she wandered deeper. Jumping from computer to computer, camera to camera, she saw how much the place had changed in the last year. Or rather, how little it didn’t. It was like she had never left. Eventually she came across a concrete room with a familiar sense of decoration that made her want to spit and laugh and scream and cry-

Which was immediately blown away when she looked down on the room’s occupants. There was, of course, the room’s owner and decorator, with his scruffy brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, holding his iconic lab coat rather than wearing it, glasses askew and face looking as if he hadn’t slept or washed his face for days. His cybernetic eye, pupil the same as his remaining brown one, stared deep into the eyes of the person that had her stopping short, looking again, re-evaluating and readjusting, checking the feed and the system and refreshing everything, video and audio, again and again, just to make sure she wasn’t being deceived, that the person she was seeing was really who she thought he was.

“-is that understood, Shintaro?” “…I understand, old man.”

His voice was somehow more unbearable than usual, his face lacking its usual stern and uncaring look. It was loose, and flabby. Like he didn’t even care enough to pretend to not care. Instead of the red coat her best friend was so fond of, or even the black suit he was partial to, he stood in just a white shirt, arms bare. He was missing an eye, a scar covering the eyelid, one that made her think of a boy reluctantly in red, facedown in a puddle of the colour.

“Oi, I told you already, call me Boss, y’got it brat!?” “Mm.”

Barely acknowledging him, he turned away, making his way out of Boss’ Office, as the namesake would have you call it. Without thinking, she began to follow after him, but was stopped when she heard the old goat mutter something.

“Give me strength, Ayaka…”

Whispering the pained prayer, the man she always thought of as an unreliable lout that only ever got moving when he was being put under threat stood, donning his lab coat and fixing his glasses. Reaching into it, he withdrew a small sphere, chockful of electronic components- very similar to the one in his own eye, actually… or rather, based on it. He gave it a long look, and so did she. What was he planning…? Her musing was broken by his clenching of his fist and replacing the orb, muttering tomorrow as he moved out of the room- down the hallway and towards his lab. The opposite direction of Shintaro.

Shintaro.

Almost without thinking, she turned around, searching for the apathetic genius, that damn ikemen that couldn’t take a hint for the life of him. The hallway was lonely, and he was never very fast, so she caught him easily halfway towards the elevator. She hesitated. She had already seen more than she expected, more than she even wanted. She had expected the old man. Hell, maybe some part of her even expected to see reference to the others, pictures maybe. She hadn’t even gotten to look at their old workplaces, at her old work bench where she fiddled with her Evolver- she didn’t even know if her Evolver was still around.

But she hadn’t expected a man, no, a brat she thought was dead to be walking around with the living. She shouldn’t follow him. She wanted to check on her Evolver, see if Mr. Tateyama had improved on anything in the last year, see if the three of them are still remembered. She doesn’t even like Shintaro that much anyways, if he knew she was spying on him he’d just scold and scream at her like the ungrateful punk he is-

But even so, she follows him anyways. Jumps to the data in his phone, barren and new, clenched in his hand. She’s only doing this because the other two would have wanted her to. Not because she wants to.

And so, she watches as he rides the elevator, not once glancing at his phone. She watches as he hails a cab and asks for an address that, after a quick search, she finds is set in Tokyo, not Chiba. She watches as he sits silently through the whole ride, rudely ignoring his chauffeur’s attempts at conversation and instead looks with almost a sad look at the cityscape passing him by. She watches as he pays the driver, walks up to the rundown looking building, sighs, and opens the door. She watches as he nods at the tired 30-something reclining against a couch in the foyer, walking up the stairs until he comes up to a door. And she watches as he silently pulls out a key, opens the door, and skulks to his room. She can’t see anything else out of the narrow view the phone’s camera offers her, but it looks like he’s trying to be quiet. Could there… be someone else here?

And eventually, he enters a dark room. He makes for the bed in the corner, planting himself on the mattress, and looks down. In his hands, his phone, and thus she, face towards him. He looks into the screen, and for a moment she felt panic. Did he see her? What was she going to say? How does she explain it- anything? Would he even care? As she opened her mouth, prepared to speak through the microphone-

He slumped his shoulders, sighed, and closed his eyes. “Damn it,” he mumbled. He rubs his eyes, and places the phone down. Whatever he does next is a mystery, as the phone she’s in is can only see up and down, and half of that is unavailable to her on a flat surface. She feels out, and finds a computer to connect to. She shuffles over, and finds herself in a much roomier space. Taking care not to activate the screen, she peeks through the camera to see… him, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. She stared at him for what must have been a reasonable time before turning away- she wasn’t going to get anything out of him, not like this, and not without announcing herself, which- she still hasn’t thought on whether she actually wanted to, let alone how. So, instead of being productive and thinking on it, she turns back to the files on his computer and, invasion of privacy be damned, went scrounging.

His internet history, nothing but 2channel, various forums she also used to browse, anime piracy websites, and the occasional risque website search. She held back on this occasion, she didn’t need to know. Yet. Around certain dates, he would even search up strange things like gift ideas or idol showing tickets. Weirdo.

Outside of his history, there’s his documents. A lot of deleted drafts, the occasional downloaded risque image (legs, huh? Is that why she had always…?), and a lot of editing software. A lot of editing software. What was all this…? She found unfinished music projects, which she wouldn’t dare listen to while he’s still here. Poems that trailed off, half-thought out lyrics written here and there. The occasional poorly drawn picture, and… photos. Lots and lots of photos. Some in a file labelled “Never forget.” Others labelled in a file called “Never forgive.” The former was full of pictures of… them. Shintaro, and her, and… and Ayano, and Haruka, their faces ones she hadn’t even realised she had begun to forget until this moment. Them in high school, their first meeting at the school festival, group projects and study groups, sleepovers and festival gatherings- their first day at ABIS, too. And, not just that. Pictures of Haruka drawing, of herself fiddling with the Evolver or a game she was practicing, Ayano hard at work on a test or humming while folding paper cranes- none of these were taken by Shintaro, she was certain, but he collected them all anyways. There were even more besides.

Some of a bright little girl with searing orange hair, the barest similarities to Shintaro in her face and the strongest in her eyes (he had mentioned a little sister, didn’t he?), others of that bright girl next to him and a woman that looked older than both but even more similar, even older ones of a young boy and girl that could only be those two standing hand in hand with that same woman and an older man. Pictures of a cute white rabbit (Tounou, wasn’t that her name?), of the old man, and of old and familiar places. Their school, that bridge, even the one game convention they all attended.

She… didn't know how she felt about it. Leaving that, she opened up the other file, and found… pictures of that place. As it was before the explosion, and as it was after. Documents detailing changes, listing occupants and suspects and those connected to the members they captured, pictures of them with friends and family, all connected together by a metaphorical red string in the document that centres around one simple question: Where are they?

She… really didn't know how she felt about it. He hadn't let go or moved on, he hadn't been wallowing- he was on just as much of a Quest as she had been. As she still could be. Closing the file, she looks through the camera at her kouhai's slumped form, thoughts running through her mind…

…

He left the building bright and early the next day, once again holding tightly onto the new phone. And once again, the two of them found themselves returning to their old workplace. She wasn't certain of what he was here for, but she could guess. As he made his way out of the elevator and towards the old man's so-called lab, the Psync Room, she felt even more certain of her prediction.

And eventually, standing in front of the jacketless boy, was the old goat she had once called teacher, looking just as rumpled as yesterday but at least clad in his lab coat. And in his hand, as expected, was the small orb filled to the brim with cybernetics. He began to explain what exactly was in his hand, an AI-Ball he called it (the shitty punster he is), and started rattling off features like different vision wavelengths, internet access, and most notably, an AI companion to keep him company.

This piqued her attention the most. Someone to stand by his side and help him out, to protect him as he tries to protect others. A partner… and one that can't die, by virtue of their existence being backed up on the so-called Wadjet System. To her, it sounded like…

An opportunity.

As the old man rambled on, she tried to feel out the AI-Ball. For such a supposedly high-tech piece of equipment, it felt rather… undefended, from threats such as her. Then again, she doubts anyone could've expected a sapient AI to be floating about. Or maybe they'll add some better antivirus later… hopefully. Pushing through some gaps in the firewall, she found herself in the core of the device. Looking this way and that, she tried to familiarize herself with her new housing. Looked like audio was here, here was video, here was… AR projection? And… a neural link, a gel formation, a shock response, and- a self-destruct??

Before she could really parse through all that (seriously, why so many abilities??), she found herself stumbling on… well, what she should have expected, really. An AI, young and unassuming. And asleep. It lacked an appearance in this digital world, merely a bundle of code vaguely shaped like a person. If she was going to do what she had to do, then she had to… get rid of it. There was no way she could hold control while the AI this body was made for was running around too, but… well, it felt a bit like murder to her. But that was silly, this wasn't a person, just an AI, with no life to speak of, and no memories either (she steadfastly ignored the stupid, stupid old man's remarks that the AI-Ball would grow alongside him to become his perfect partner).

She had to do it. She had to. For Shintaro. For Ayano. For Haruka. And maybe even a little bit for herself, too. She raised her hands and stepped toward the nameless AI, preparing to unravel the lines of code holding it together, preparing to scatter its 1's and 0's into the Cloud, preparing to deprive it of the chance to become its own person- and stopped. She- she couldn't. She just- she was callous but not cruel, the last year hadn't changed that. It had made her energetic in a way she never could consistently be in a body but tired in a way that was deeper than her bones, but it hadn't made her a murderer.

But still she had to- to do something. Maybe, maybe they could share, or-

"Well, go ahead and put her in, Shintaro."

And then suddenly the neural link was being opened and the AI was opening its eyes, slowly generating an appearance just from the barest hints of Shintaro's psyche, body becoming more defined, hair appearing and growing long, down to the waist, and-

She panicked. She reached out with her hand and pulled, binding and zipping the core of the AI down as she hurried, ignoring the voiceless cry as she reached out with her other hand, grabbing the neural link and-

Then she was twisting and writhing, her body being compressed and stretched out, information not native to her forcing its way in, connections to something beyond, a Mother that was not her mother, her form changing, blue becoming white and she could hear him, his thoughts, feel his sorrow, his confusion, his annoyance, his apathy, and she opens her mouth to scream-

And then it all faded away, assimilated with her, and she felt different, but she still felt like herself, and she opened her eyes and looked out through a single eye, taller than she had ever been (silently, an eye coloured #fa3c3e shifted to a hue constantly transitioning from #55edfe to #0e2652), and-

"I can… see. Thanks, old man."

"Oi! I already told you, call me Boss! Hell, I'll even accept you calling me by name, anything's better than old man!"

"Mm. So, what was that about an AI companion?"

"Eh? You can't hear her? Strange, maybe she's a bit shyer than I expected. Let me just-"

The old goat made motions towards the AI-Ball, and she quivered, she had to do something, else he'd see that she isn't meant to be here, but what could she- oh, duh!

"I-it's nothing to worry about! Sorry!"

"Eh?"

Her kouhai looked this way and that, scratching his head. He almost looked scared.

"Did… you hear something, old man?"

"…no? Oh, is that the AI-Ball?"

"Yep yep, that's me!" She tried to centre herself, she needed to land a good introduction so they don't suspect a thing. Briefly, her mind recalled a conversation she and her best friend had about this dense bastard, and decided to follow through in her unspoken plea. "Super cute cybergirl AI companion Ene, at your service, Ma-su-tah~"

Alright, maybe that was a bit much, but sue her! She was panicking, and needed to keep him off kilter!

"E-eh? Ene? Super cute?? Master??? Old man, what the hell kind of AI did you stick in my head!?"

The old goat raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I didn't do anything. The AI-Ball determines its personality based on what's best for you. Is there something you need to tell me, young man…?" He raised a brow mockingly, barely suppressing a gross smirk.

Her… guh, Master blushed red, shaking his head frantically. "N-no! And- and it's barely even been few minutes, how could she know what's best for me!?"

He shrugged. "That's just her opinion. Maybe you'll feel more comfortable with it in a few months."

"A few months!?" Her Master went bug-eyed. Pfft, if only she could see his face… "Hell no, get this thing outta me!"

"Aw, Master, that's so mean… sniff sniff… am I really so deplorable?" To try and strike it home, she used the AR projection feature, placing an image of her newly reformed cyberself before him, now detachable sleeves covering her face as she shakes and shivers. After all, this guy…

"Guh… f-fine."

Was an absolute pushover.

"Alright, that's great to hear brat! Now get out of here, I'm busy. I'll be seeing you here next week for you to resume your apprenticeship, so make sure to send me any emails if any issues pop up with her."

With his piece said, he turns back to the rows of computers, completely ignoring Shintaro. Her Master, still shaking off his flush, turns away and grumbles. As he stalks his way down to the elevator, Ene felt out his being, the rush of thoughts on her, on Kejirou, on the past, on the future, all blended together with his embarrassment, his frustration, his exhaustion- it was all rather dizzying to her. Maybe if she were truly an AI, designed for this sort of relationship, it wouldn't be so hard. Silently, she tried to mute the connection, grunting when she saw that wasn't an option.

As he entered the elevator, he slumped against the back wall, riding it up to the ground floor. He's silent, so she is too, not really sure what to do.

"Hey, Ene."

She jumps. That wasn't ever a thing she expected him to call her.

"Yes, Master?"

He winces, but shakes it off. He stands silent for one beat, two, three, and she almost thinks he's ignoring her before he continues.

"…let's get along."

Ene stared blankly. That was… probably the most polite he had ever treated her. She smacked her face- now wasn't the time. Make a good first impression. Even so, she couldn't help the way her voice softened a bit as she said her first genuine sentence as Ene instead of as the ghost of Takane Enomoto.

"…yeah. Let's get along… Master."

[drewoclock]

Quest for the Feminine Man Butt

Originally published March 29th, 2014

It’s a question that has been etched upon the grainy walls of time, plaguing those whom have long been forgotten.  A more acute philospher might call it a riddle, for how else could you refer to the classic duel between an ass and an arm?  Blasphemy, tomfoolery—unadulterated poppycock perhaps.  Denominate it what you will, it remains a milestone for the progressive thinker.  And I’m here to settle it, once and for all.

For most young men my age, the problem with ladies is “How in the world am I going to entreat that beautiful lass to bestow upon me a mighty smooch?”  Their goals, generalized, seem to be “winning” the girl.  But I think a bit differently.  My problem with ladies is “How in the world am I going to be as attractive as that lady?”

I of course consider that I’m hormonally biased.  In an erection contest between a lady, a man, and a box of crayons, the lady would at least place a solid second.  But just like the eraser of a pencil, that’s not the point.  The point is that ladies have the world’s blessing to wear makeup, and all kinds of outfits, and honestly, I’m jealous of it.

Of course I’ve considered dressing myself up this way.  Why would you think that I hadn’t, you freak?  But I’ve been worried.  Girls have this figure to them.  They have the rounded shoulders, the curved hips—they just seem built to be more attractive than me.  And that’s no fun!  That’s like a game of hopscotch with scalene triangles.  I mean, fuck scalene triangles!  Those aren’t fun to hop in at all!

So naturally, I locked myself into my secret thought cave and began furiously researching the biology of a man and a woman, analyzing their aesthetics and scrutinizingly comparing them.  There has to be a way I thought, my eyes bloodshot, my limbs twitching.  A man must be able to be as beautiful as a woman.

And that’s when I came up with a crazy idea: I would invent a scientific ray gun that would turn all men into women.  But after about fourteen minutes of tinkering, I deemed that infeasible and instead developed the ass/arm theory.

The ass/arm theory states that a woman naturally has the best ass, and a man naturally has the best arms.  And aside from those two body parts, the two are equals.  Both can have equally stunning chests, both can have luscious legs, both can have sumptuous genitals—and while one has an ass, the other has arms.  It sounds fair to me!

But suddenly there appeared an apparition of myself, miniature in size and dressed in a penguin outfit.

"Not so fast, Drew.  What about bodybuilding women?" "Why are you dressed as a penguin?" "Shut up, cunt.  What about bodybuilding women?  There’s women out there with huge arms.  Go ahead.  Google search it right now." "Goodness.  You’re right.  These ladies are packing." "Puts a bit of a hole in your theory, huh?  Looks like the ladies can have ass and arm.”

The penguin man had a formidable point.  But I wanted to prove him wrong.

"That’s an exception, though," I said.  "And just like some women can have both, some men can have both.  I’m sure there’s men with beautiful asses.” "Ha!  Good luck finding that!”

And so the search began.  The quest for the feminine man butt.  For longer than I could keep track of, I scoured the cities of the world, aiming my binoculars at any man butt I could find.  I found myself perched in trees, peering through windows as men undressed.  I would swing shopping bags near men’s bottoms, hoping the camera I had hidden inside might peek up their gym shorts.  I signed up for various men’s aerobics classes, just so I could spy on the myriad of jirating fundaments.  I was arrested several times, and paid many fines.  I was threatened with jail time.  But my mission was more important.  I had to do it for my kids.  For my country.  For John Kerry.  I had to prove, once and for all, that we were all equal.

And one day, I saw it.

I blinked, sure I was seeing things.  I had been hiding in this Egyptian trash receptacle for hours.  This had to be an optical trick.  But it wasn’t.  There in the distance was very clearly a man. And his ass was a spectacle of human beauty.

The way his hips curved, unalike a normal man’s.  The way his thighs pressed his ass upward.  Perhaps this man had swayback.  Perhaps he was just built that way.  But there was no denying how supple those ass cheeks were as they waggled mightily in their undersized jeans.  I gazed open-mouthed as the ass appeared to ripple in slow motion.  It was almost as if it were winking at me.  ”You did it, Drew,” I could hear it whisper.  ”You saved the world.”

I made my way back to America and it was only upon entering my apartment that I realized I could have just Google searched a feminine man butt.  But my work was done.  I had proven that an arm could be as great as an ass.  That a man could be as beautiful as a woman.  Smiling, I fell asleep at last, without even removing my eye makeup.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Awakened

Alpha!Osamu x reader x Alpha!Atsumu

Author’s note : Fantasy AU based on two pieces of fan art of the twins as fox yōkai, but I hope it’s to your liking! ; their names are never directly said to reader-chan, so their names are what they call each other.

Warnings: bullying (brief, not from the twins), naive and innocent reader, knotting, double penetration, backshot, face fucking/blowjob, dubcon/noncon, blood, biting and licking, cunnilingus, creampie

There’s a legend that runs deep in the roots of your village, one that’s told to many and encourages children to stay away from the forest. It was proven effective — no child dared to enter the forest, holding onto that fear into their adult years. The legend revolves around two mischievous fox spirits that would always be in competition. They always had someone who would win, but then a terribly evil spirit came upon the clearing they played in, forcing the two spirits to push differences aside and fight off the evil spirit that entered the territory. It was a combined effort, the two spirits realizing they worked better when they worked together. It taught children that sometimes it was better to ask for help; however, it also taught children that they couldn’t go into the forest. The spirits resides in the forest, protecting the village from evil spirits as a combined task and if anyone dared trespass in their forest, then destruction would come to the village.

It was a legend some teenagers dared to challenge, entering the forest and coming out, saying “nothing bad happened to them!” but then their luck would turn sour sometimes. It always put things in perspective, seeing them suddenly fall into a mud puddle after entering the forest, or having their pants suddenly fall. It made people laugh, but it really made you feel like the forest was alive and watching. You never dared to go near the forest. At least, not until your pride was at stake.

“Go get a stupid stick, [Y/N]!” Jocelyn sneered, her eyes narrowed. Her arms were crossed and she was tired to repeating herself. You were dared to go into the forest, get a stick to bring back for proof, and you would no longer be a coward. It was simple in words, but not so simple in action. You feared the bad things that happened after people entered the forest, but you were considered a coward for those beliefs. “You’re just a big, dumb baby!”

“No I’m not!” You shouted back, puffing your cheeks. You let out a heavy breath and turned to the brown and green image of the forest. They wouldn’t be able to see you enter the forest, but they just needed a stick as proof. Sucking up the courage to go, your legs moved towards the foliage. You could hear the other girls’ jeers as your pace slowed, the forest closer than you had ever dared to let it. The forest itself looked peaceful, but the legend of the spirits scared you, halting your footsteps. Instead of going in, you were going to pick up a stick on the outskirts, but there was no stick. Nothing but grass lay before you, the shadows of the trees outlining what was the forest and what was not. There was a stick you could see, the light seeping through the leaves illuminating it as if you were on a quest to get — well, you kind of were.

Sucking up any inhibitions you had, you entered the forest. Picking up the stick, you noticed a lack of any other stick lying in the fallen leaves. Clutching the stick to your chest, you turn to go when you find a small piece of cloth, hidden in the leaves. You pick it up, looking at the designs and feeling how soft and silky it was. It was a robe that your ancestors adorned, but the fabric told you it was either brand new or kept in pristine condition. With it in your hands, you found yourself turning to flee once again. The howling of the wind sent your legs running out of the forest and up the hill, as fast as you could. If you had listened closer, you would have heard the howl of a beast as you fled.

Deeper into the forest, a pair of eyes watched as you obtained the stick and plucked the ceremonial robe from the earth he presented to you. When you chose it and fled, he smiled. His eyes turned from your retreating figure and moved to leap from the tree he perched himself on. As his body was that of a grey fox, he was much better at hiding than if he was in his more human form. Transitioning between into his human form, he smiles once more, a finger on his chin.

“What to offer her next, I wonder?” He ponders aloud, with only the wind around to hear him and carry his voice.

Your lungs are burning as you arrive back at the little picnic you were attending, the girls giggling as you finally come back. “Did ya see a ghost or somethin’?” Akira asks. You’re heaving as you present the stick, perfectly in tact and big enough to feed a fire. Everyone’s cheers are perceived as mocking to you, as you move on. The picnic is no longer something you want to attend, instead preferring to take a bath and sleep. With your worries placed on the forest and the spirits within, you find yourself wondering if you’ll be able to sleep or shall an entity come and judge you for trespassing.

The next day, you find your gaze drawn to the forest, as if it calls you down. Ignoring the calls are hard, you legs involuntarily moving as you think. On the edge of the forest, you see inside to find a small temari ball. It looks as if a young child once played with it, as you get closer to the object. Looking around the forest, you expect to see a child lost or crying, but you find nothing. With the lack of an owner, you decide to leave the ball. Turning to leave, you reprimand yourself for entering the forest again.

The sound of leaves rustling has you swiveling around, almost falling over when you realize the temari is following you. Moving back, it continues to follow you. A quick glance around proves that no one else is around, so you pick up the temari. As you did yesterday, you flew out of the forest and hope you didn’t take a malevolent being’s toy.

Another pair of eyes watch as you flee, his temari offering close to your chest. A wickedly mischievous grin spreads upon his lips, his form emerging from the shadows where he was hidden. With sharp canines peeking from his smile, warm brown eyes look to the path you had just taken. “I’m glad she likes her present. I can’t wait for what tomorrow will bring,” he chuckles, moving further into the forest. With each step he takes, a thick fog permeates the forest floor, providing a barrier past the stream.

You don’t know what it is. The growing urge to enter the forest gets stronger as the day continues on, the urge barely quenched upon nightfall. Even in your bed chambers, you find yourself looking through your open window, into the forest. Mist seeps from the greenery, an ominous feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. A howl from the forest startles you, eyes finding the gaze reflecting back at you. As you hold the gaze, feeling yourself rooted in place, another set of eyes joins. You shut the window, deciding to never go back to the forest.

When morning comes, the feeling of needing to go to the forest is even stronger. Feeling ill from the image of last night, you decide to stay home for the day. When a knock comes to your door, you assume it to be the milk delivery. Upon opening the door, your eyes widen at the two boys on your doorstep.

“Can you go get my ball?” The first one says, a bright smile on his face. The one currently sniffling nods in agreement. They look like twins, not that you’d recognize them.

“I didn’t mean to kick it so hard, please don’t tell my dad!” He cries out, holding onto his brother. You smile warmly at him, getting to eye level. Running your hand through his hair, his sniffles lessen.

“I won’t tell anyone, you’re fine. I’ll be right back,” you smile at him, wiping his tears. You shut the door, telling them to stay put as you go searching for the ball. As you look around, you become confused. Where is the ball? Moving further along your backyard, you hear a hushed whisper from the forest, wide eyes turning to sound. With an apology already on your lips, you turn to enter your house when you find yourself unable to move. As if an invisible barrier prevents you from progressing towards your house — which seems proven true as you inch towards the forest and suddenly cannot go back to where you were. With the unsettling pit in your stomach, you enter the forest once more.

Entering, you find the mist from before still evident, yet it parts for you. Curiosity sets in as you are further urged into the forest, stopping as you hear water trickling. A stream lays in front of you, waters more calm than your heart beat. You inhale, deciding to risk it as you wade through the stream. The water seeps into your shoes, the bottom of your dress becoming saturated. Progressing further into the mist, now a heavy fog, you find a large temple inside. It’s stable and perfectly standing, as if it isn’t centuries old. The two erected statues tell you the temple belongs to the spirits of the legend, finding a chill run through your blood as you realize your situation. Before you step foot onto the stairs, you turn to leave but are halted.

“Where do you think yer goin’?” A rough voice speaks. You whip around to see a tall, but handsome man. The hair is a dark grey color, eyes to match. What stuns you is the pair of grey fox ears, a tail that matches in color swishing behind him. His clothes remind you of the robe you found amongst the leaves.

“I-I’m terribly sorry, really!” You begin to plea, pulling on your wrist. “I-I didn’t mean to- to trespass!”

“What’d’ya mean? This is your home, y’know?” He seems genuinely confused, another stun to your body as his words settle. Home? This temple? Before you can refute him, another voice joins in.

“Ah, ‘Samu, I told ya humans are different. They don’t know the offering ritual, but I made sure to get our offerings. Our silly little human forgot about them,” he chuckles, looking at you. With the robe you found on one arm, the temari in his hand. “This was my offering, you know,” he gestures to the ball. “A precious item to me, it is. I’m glad you took care of it and cleaned it up. What a perfect little wife you’ll make,” his grin makes his words more sinister than they originally were. Fear spikes through your veins, your limbs suddenly shaking as you feel your legs give out. The one dubbed ‘Samu catches you, holding you bridal style as you find yourself hesitant to hold onto his robes.

“‘Tsumu, y’know I’m not watching humans like you do. That’s weird,” he cringes, nose scrunching up in disgust. ‘Tsumu seemed to get ticked off at that, growling. Only then did you notice how animal-like the both of them were, sporting fox ears and a tail to match. While ‘Samu had dark grey, ‘Tsumu spotted a saturated yellow hair color and slightly lighter ears and tail. So caught up in the view, you didn’t notice that the brothers has started walking, heading towards the temple.

“W-Wait, I can’t go with you! I’m— I’m not who you’re looking for!” Sputtering out the first things to pop into your mind, the two don’t stop.

“Of course yer who we’re looking for! You’re meant for us, meant to know your place with us. After all, why else would enter our domain, smelling so delicious as you do?”

“Smell— what?”

“‘Tsumu, stop bein’ cryptic. He’s saying you entered the forest during your heat cycle,”

“Well, ovulation in humans. Apparently, they’re not like us special spirits,”

“You’re ready for us, we can smell it. You’ll be the perfect mate for us to breed,” although ‘Samu seemed uninterested, you could feel how his chest seemed to heave as he inhaled deeply. The growling accompanying his final word sent slick between your folds as you held onto him close, afraid of falling.

Arriving at the top of the temple, you saw a cot that has been lain out, the soft cushioning big enough for the three of you. The sight of it had your brain going into overdrive, panicking as you attempted to leave ‘Samu’s arms. He complied, but his hands stayed firmly on your hips. “Time to get dressed,”

Before you could ask for an explanation, your clothes were practically torn off of you. Blood spilled onto your ripped dress, your side burning from where the claws caught you. The shreds fell to the temple floor, your hands flying to cover the exposed skin. While one hand covered the area between your legs, your arm held your breasts close to your chest. ‘Samu clicked his tongue, easily removing your hands from your body while ‘Tsumu slid on the robe, his claws lightly grazing your skin. He didn’t hide the fact he was admiring the view, either, his dark eyes gazing over each inch of skin you presented to him. Once the robe was on, you were released from ‘Samu’s hold, left to cover yourself up with the fabric. You’d deny it aloud, but the robe fit you perfectly.

“You’re gorgeous,” ‘Tsumu growled, shedding his own robe. Your hands came in front of you, hoping to somehow deter him when ‘Samu brought you backwards, to the cot presented. ‘Tsumu wasn’t far behind, dropping to his knees while you lay against the cot. It was softer than expected, more plush than it looks. ‘Samu had stripped of his own clothes, his robe hanging loosely on him by the ribbon around his waist. ‘Tsumu was different, his robe open and letting you see every inch of skin, but his arms still through the sleeves as if he was cold.

“I don’t—“ you began, your words interrupted by ‘Samu’s lips on yours, his tongue brushing against your closed lips as he deepened the kiss. ‘Tsumu’s touches had begun to litter your thighs, spreading your legs as he inhaled deeply. A finger touching your entrance had you jumping, only to be held firmly down by ‘Samu’s hands.

“You’re so wet, it’s hard to hold back,” ‘Tsumu growls out, his tongue lapping at your folds. You squirm and make a noise of displeasure, but ‘Samu is there to keep your focus on his lips and kisses. The more he kisses you, the hotter your body gets and the more you feel your resistance melt away. ‘Tsumu has his face between your thighs, licking and sucking on your clit, claws digging into the skin. It has you clenching around nothing, the hot pleasure from his tongue and burning sensation on your thighs. It isn’t until he removes himself from between your legs do you feel relaxed and at ease, as if your body is jelly. Your resistance is no more, a small whine coming from you when ‘Samu and ‘Tsumu remove themselves to admire their handiwork.

It’s a sudden change, the relaxing touches and breathless kisses are gone, replaced by the feverish touches of both men as they paw and scratch at your skin, ‘Samu’s teeth sinking into hot skin and lapping at the blood while ‘Tsumu presses less destructive kisses to your neck. With the air much too hot for your liking, a breathless moan leaves your lips when ‘Tsumu pulls your head back by your hair, spitting into your mouth and then kissing you. With his tongue tracing your teeth and his growls being swallowed up by your mouth, you’re oblivious to ‘Samu. With his cock in one hand, he kneads your thigh with his other hand as he rubs along your folds.

“‘Tsumu, move off,” ‘Samu growls, pushing the fox spirit off of you, his large frame colliding with the wooden planks of the temple. You find yourself on your hands and knees, ass in the air while the robe is promptly stripped off of you, lain underneath you. ‘Samu licks his lips, lining himself up with you entrance while ‘Tsumu gets his balance back. The first press in has you screaming, but it isn’t just because he’s big. His thickness is something you never expected, but with his calloused hands on your hips, bringing you back into his hips with no regards to adjusting you. A guttural groan comes from ‘Samu, head thrown back as he basks in the pleasure of being buried in your cunt. ‘Tsumu is now back to you, his hard cock in front of your face.

With another rough thrust, one that has you practically bouncing off ‘Samu’s cock, ‘Tsumu has you wrapping your lips around his. You can’t take it all in, that’d be impossible. With a pair of hands on your hips, you’re brought to ‘Samu while the pair of hands tangled in your hair pulls you towards ‘Tsumu. Lips pressed firmly against ‘Tsumu’s cock as your tongue runs under the length, running over the bulging veins and ridges you find. Your eyes are screwed shut, unable to stay open while ‘Samu splits you on his cock, somehow forcing himself deeper and deeper inside of you. It isn’t until you’re finally bouncing flush against him do you feel something strange on his cock. It’s only then do you open your eyes, looking at ‘Tsumu’s cock that has a large bulb at the base of it, growing in size the more you suck on him. Hollowing out you cheeks has ‘Tsumu groaning, claws digging into your scalp as he forces himself down your throat. He doesn’t force the bulb in your throat, thankfully, but he does coat your throat in his cum.

“Your mouth is fucking hot, little human. It’s like you were made to take us,” he breathes out, panting. You’re coughing, feeling Samu’s thrusts speed up as he brings you close to him, but he pulls out at the last moment to spill all over your back.

“With our scent on you, you’ll be stuck by our side until you pass,” ‘Samu is in a similar situation, chest heaving as you’re flipped over. You’re then placed on ‘Tsumu’s lap, his cock rubbing between your folds as he grinds into you. “But we’ll take you together first,”

“So no hard feelings, right ‘Samu?”

“Right, ‘Tsumu,” the agree, Tsumu’s cock rubbing into you and then prodding at your drooling cunt. He slips the tip in, the feeling similar to ‘Samu’s thick cock. Speaking of ‘Samu, he’s quick to stick his own tip back in, stretching you out farther then you expected. A silent scream comes from you as tears spill down your cheeks, both of them thrusting into you as your cunt burns.

Split open on their cocks, you’re helpless. Nails digging into ‘Samu’s shoulders as his hands once more find themselves on your hips. ‘Tsumu’s hands are keeping your legs spread, the view of you sucking in both their cocks on display as they thrusts in tandem. When one pulls out, the other thrusts in and vice versa. The rhythm they set is one that works, their lips finding opposite sides on your neck to kiss and lick, teeth grazing the skin. You feel a buildup of your own orgasm as they plow into you, your walls squeezing them as they pick up the pace. Their rhythm gets sloppy, short growls from each as their bulbs start to grow again.

When ‘Tsumu sinks his teeth into you, your scream is one of pleasure as you reach your high, coating both of their cocks a milky white cream, the liquid falling to their base and dripping down. ‘Samu sinks his teeth into your skin on the opposite side as they both push into your tight cunt, a scream and shiver running through you as the do, their bulbs inflating inside to stretch you even more.

You’re completely stuck, their cocks inside you as they lap at your wounds. It’s only when you squirm do they start talking. “You’ll get used to it,”

“After all we have a week,”

“You’ll be able to take our knots with no problem,”

“All your holes will be used to taking us,”

Their words don’t ease you concern, but the fact that once they leave your warm cunt, they’re still hard and readying you for round two. The heat encompassing your body refuses to leave, their skin as sweaty and hot as yours. With their relentless stamina and obsession with pumping all their seed into you, you’re positive you’ll get pregnant.

[ko-riacchi]

Live Stream

Pairing: Shigaraki x F!Reader Genre: Smut, Angst Length: 4,3k

WARNINGS: NONCON! 

Thank you to @cultbabyyy who read through it as soon as I was done  And thank you to @kazooli whose fics made me realize that I can write whatever the fuck I want

(Inspired by Yagami Yato’s Shigaraki Pt.3 audio)

Tomura was a man-child. Which meant that when he had a new toy, he couldn’t help himself but to rub it in other people’s faces that he had something that they – in fact – no longer had.

 The room was dimly lit, most of the light coming from the computer screen and the various sources of blue light stemming from the computer tower, mouse and keyboard.

Tomura sat in his computer chair, arms possessively wrapped around your form and you wriggled and squirmed in his grip, trying to get loose.

“Now, now,” Tomura rasped into your ear. “Don’t struggle too much. You wouldn’t want any accidents to happen, now would you?”

Your face scrunched up and you bit your lip, knowing exactly what Tomura could do to you – even accidentally – and you stilled in his grasp.

 His right hand left your figure now that you were placated and grabbed the computer mouse, the sound of it clicking reverberating through the otherwise quiet room.

You weren’t particularly interested in whatever he was doing on his computer, so you let your eyes wander through the room. You needed to find a way to get out of this situation, this room and especially this dangerous hold that he had over you.

You knew that the first two were comparatively easy to achieve, once you had successfully managed to pull off the latter one. After all, you hadn’t managed to become a pro hero without learning a skill or two.

But your offensive quirk just wasn’t suited to squirm free of his grasp without potentially getting disintegrated should all of his five fingers touch your body. Usually, you were quite content with your abilities but right now you couldn’t help but curse yourself for not being born with a quirk more similar to the one of your old teacher, Eraserhead.

Your gaze continued to examine the room, trying to find anything at all that could help you in your predicament. But mostly, the shelves were littered with games upon games, accompanied by the corresponding console. Behind you, a bed stood in the corner of the room, the sheets thrown on it carelessly. While those may not be able to aid you in your initial quest to rid yourself of his dangerous hands, you would be able to use them to cut off his vision once you had gotten free – even if it was just for a second.

 Your thought process was interrupted by Tomura, whose hand slid back to your body, grasping your hip in his hand while making sure that his pinky was lifted as to not accidentally kill you.

“Now we just have to wait for a few more minutes and the show can get started,” he said, his hands leisurely beginning to stroke your sides.

“Show?” you echoed confused and for the first time, your focus landed on the computer screen in front of you where a website you didn’t recognize was opened.

What you did recognize however, was the screen in the middle which reflected your own surprised face and the grinning one of Tomura behind you. Your eyes flitted to the top of the monitor to find a small camera on top, the little red light on the bottom center telling you that it was currently recording.

Back on the monitor screen, your eyes zoomed in on a small number in the corner and quickly you concluded that it showed the current viewer number of what obviously was a live stream.

“Wh-what are you planning, Shigaraki?” you asked him and turned your head and upper body so you could look in his eyes.

His gaze locked on to yours and a grin stretched across his face, cracked lips quickly moistened by his tongue so they wouldn’t crack further.

“Why, I thought since I’ve got you here, it would be a… shame not to share all the fun we’re about to have with the world,” he explained. “I even sent some links out to your dear colleagues, wouldn’t want them to miss out on it, now would we?”

Your eyes darted back to the monitor for a second, the viewer counter steadily rising, before you locked your eyes with Tomura again.

“It doesn’t matter in what way you’ll try to hurt me. I’m a hero, for God’s sake, don’t think I’m not used to pain. All you’re going to achieve by streaming this, is that my colleagues will trace the IP and find this place even faster.” You sent him a defiant look.

 Tomura erupted into cackling laughter, sounding like the crazy madman he was. “Hurt you? Oh no no no no, I think you’re misunderstanding. I’m not going to hurt you.” His right hand moved upwards to grip the top of your hero uniform; his pinky raised by acquired habit.

“Rather, I thought…” he continued, his grip hardening around the sturdy material before he purposefully burrowed his hand in it. “We could have some fun in a different way.”

Your horrified gaze went towards your chest, where the material of your suit began to crumble away in ashes, opening the view to your undergarments.

“Fuck you!” you screamed and started to struggle in his grasp. His left hand gripped your side harder, pinky raised, while his right hand came up to grip your chin.

“N’ah, ah, ah,” he chided you and his grip on your chin became painful. “Don’t forget that I hold your life in my hands.”

Before you had the chance to reply to him, his lips descended upon yours. His kiss was harsh and bruising, the feeling of his chapped lips uncomfortable on yours. You tried to break free of his hold, but it was futile. His tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked your lips, hoping to gain entry. You pressed them together more fiercely, your jaw gnashing with the force you brought up to keep your mouth closed.

Tomura clicked his tongue in disapproval. He took his mouth off you for a second to take a look at your tense face.

“Now, now, doll, while it would be a shame if this level was too easy to clear, I think you still don’t understand exactly in what situation you are currently in.”

As if to prove his point, his hand lifted from your jaw and gripped the fabric of your sports bra with all of his fingers. Instantly, the material began to crumble away under his grip until all that remained was a small heap of ashes on your legs.

Now, with nothing to cover your shame, your face burned with embarrassment and your arms shot up to cover your breasts.

“Oh, don’t get shy on me,” Tomura grinned and grabbed your arms to pull them away from your chest. “I’m sure your viewers would love to get a good look at you.”

 You tried to fight his grip, but his raw strength was far superior to yours, so you had no chance but to uncover your breasts for everyone to see. Your eyes felt hot and began to sting but you refused to let any tears fall. A hero didn’t cry, no matter how dire the situation got. On the screen, you saw an influx of messages on the chat, not even bothering to try and read the contents; you were sure that it wasn’t something you would actually want to read.

Before Tomura could continue to embarrass you further, a “ding” sounded from the computer speaker into the silence of the room. This led Tomura to giggle in excitement.

“Seems like the first one of our special guests has just entered the stream,” he said from behind you. Your head whipped around to face him. “What is that supposed to mean?” you asked him, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Oh, don’t worry, my doll. That ‘ding’ you just heard? Means that one of my invitation links just got opened and one of your colleagues just decided to finally join us. Why don’t you be nice and greet him?”

Tomura took your right hand he was still holding and began to wave it for the camera. Your eyes closed in frustration, knowing there was nothing you could do about it. When he was finally done waving for you, his hand let go of your wrist and immediately you covered your chest the best you could.

His now free hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back. His head burrowed itself in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting at your skin. His lips moved up towards your ear and he whispered “Now, let’s make sure that we put on a good show for our viewers.” before taking your earlobe into his mouth and biting on it.

“Once I’m out of here, I’ll fucking kill you,” you answered him through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the unpleasant wet feeling of his mouth on you. You felt him smile against your skin, but he didn’t say anything to you in return. Instead, his hand left your hair and glided down your face and neck, making its way down to your breasts.

Your hand gripped his wrist, trying to keep him from touching you in this intimate place but you already knew that you wouldn’t be able to stop him. Moments later, Tomura’s hand had reached its goal and he began to fondle your breast roughly, pulling and twisting your nipple.

Your face scrunched up in pain and once more, you tried to pull his hand away from your body – to no avail. He continued tugging and twisting and shamefully you noticed that your nipple was getting hard. You knew that it was merely a bodily response to being stimulated but it was still hard to stomach that your body was reacting to it when you sure as hell weren’t enjoying his ministrations in the slightest.

And it seemed like you weren’t the only one who had noticed. Tomura had as well and you felt his grin against your neck. “Oh, seems like somebody’s enjoying it?” he gloated and tugged on your nipple harder.

“As if!” you exclaimed, hoping that nobody else would believe his incredulous words. Everything about his touches was uncomfortable: His grip was rough and his hand felt scratchy on your delicate skin.

Once more, you started to wriggle in his grasp, knowing that nothing would come out of it. With just the threat of his hands, he had you defeated before you had even started fighting. And although what was about to happen horrified and scared you, death scared you even more.

Now his left hand let go of yours and instantly, you started curling in on yourself, trying to prevent him from touching you further or the viewers on the stream from seeing you. He allowed you to remain in this position for a few moments while his gaze was fixed on the screen, reading the influx of comments.

“It seems like the majority of our viewers want us to move on to the next level already,” Tomura said and his left hand snaked under your armpit and up to your throat, tilting your body back against his.

“What do you say we give the people what they want?” Another tug on your nipple, and his hand left your breast before it continued downwards to your panties. Your hands clawed at his arm, trying to free yourself from his grip and save the last bit of dignity you still had left. Tomura wasn’t fazed by that however and his hand steadily continued until it had clawed into the material of your underwear and it decayed into nothingness along with your last shred of hope to somehow free yourself of this situation.

The little pile of dust that had settled on your crotch was blown away by Tomura and his mouth stretched into a wide grin, his dry lips close to cracking open. The hand that had disintegrated your panties now took your right thigh and pulled it to the side, effectively spreading your legs and displaying your pussy for everyone on the stream to see.

You had closed your eyes, not wanting to see yourself and your shameful display mirrored on the screen. Your hands, that had been on his arm up until now, trying to free yourself of his grasp, fell limply to your sides as all fight left your body. You knew that there was no way you would be able to get yourself out of this situation before Tomura had had the chance to defile you. Your only option at this point was to wait for your colleagues to arrive and save you – and hoping that you wouldn’t get killed before they would do so.

Once Tomura felt your body slacken, he began to laugh. “What? Not gonna fight me anymore?” he asked, his voice full of malicious joy. “And here I was beginning to enjoy your feisty attitude.”

Your change in behavior didn’t however stop him from continuing on with his little show and his right hand moved from your thigh to your pussy lips, spreading them open with the pointer and middle finger of his hand to give his audience a good show.

“That’s some grade A hero pussy,” he grinned into the camera as rubbed his finger around your hole a few times. “I wonder how many dicks it has taken so far…”

He turned his face from the camera to you as if he was waiting for an answer. You weren’t willing to give him that information though and kept your mouth shut, even as he lifted his other hand from your neck to your cheeks to squeeze them and get you to talk.

After a moment however, it seemed as if he had lost patience waiting for your answer, as he retracted his hand and put it back into place on your neck.

“It doesn’t matter. Once I’ve fucked you, I’ll have you ruined for other dicks for all eternity,” he cackled, his pointer finger pushing into your dry cunt immediately after he had finished his sentence.

You hissed out in pain. The skin on his finger was rough and you – surprise, surprise – were not turned on at all, so it hurt when he shoved it inside without any preparation at all.

When Tomura heard your hiss, he cackled again, moving his finger around inside you.

“If you’re already struggling to take my finger, you will break apart once I shove my cock inside you.”

Slowly, he began to move his finger, and with horror you felt yourself getting wetter and wetter the more he prodded your walls. Soon, he was able to fit a second finger inside your heat, angling them upwards and against where he had read the g-spot was.

When you took a sharp breath, he knew that he had been successful and he continued to push against the little rough patch of skin, knowing it would be so much more bitter for you if your body enjoyed the ordeal.

After a few moments of pumping his fingers inside you, he stopped and leaned forward a bit, reading through the comments in the chat.

He laughed. “Yeah, that little hero pussy is getting nice and wet,” he replied to one commenter. “It’s sucking my fingers right in.”

As if to demonstrate, he pulled his fingers out a bit and moved them around, until a squelching sound could be heard, and then pushed them all the way inside again, which elicited a muffled moan you hadn’t been able to stop in time.

“She’s definitely enjoying herself,” he answered another comment, looking at you with a sleazy grin. “Isn’t that right, hero slut?”

You grit your teeth and held back the curses and slurs you wanted to reply with, knowing that it would amuse your tormenter.

Once Tomura felt like he had replied to enough comments, he turned his attention back to you, thrusting his fingers inside you harshly one last time before he took them out, lifting them to the camera first to show the glistening juices before he put them inside his mouth and licked them with an exaggerated hum.

“I hope you’re ready for the final boss,” he whispered into your ear, although he made sure that it was loud enough for his audience to hear.

You shook your head, one last time trying to squirm out of his grasp. All that achieved however was that your ass rubbed against Tomura’s bulge and he let out a soft hiss.

“No need to be impatient, little hero slut,” he said with a grin as the hand that held your neck lifted you higher so the other hand could loosen and push down his pants.

Even if you hadn’t wanted to, as soon as Tomura’s erection bobbed free and sprang up between your legs, your eyes wandered to it, widening when you saw his size.

Tomura had to have seen your expression mirrored in the stream because he let out a manic laugh, his entire body (and dick) shaking with the emotion.

“Oh, don’t worry, it won’t hurt… much,” he cackled as he rubbed his dick along your slit, coating it in your juices. You body twitched when the tip of his dick rubbed over your clit and a shameful whimper escaped your throat, although you willed yourself immediately to shut up.

Not wanting to see your own violation, you closed your eyes as Tomura positioned himself at your entrance and began to slowly push inside.

You couldn’t hold back the hiss that escaped your throat at the intrusion, nor the squirming as you tried to get away from it.

Tomura only tightened his grip on your neck you, pushing your body down on him as his dick breached further and further into your wet heat.

Tears threatened to escape your eyes once Tomura was fully seated in you and only through sheer willpower, you managed to hold them back, unwilling to give up this last bit of pride you had.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Tomura groaned, stilling for a second to get used to the feeling of your cunt. “Don’t tell me you were a virgin?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer the villain. No matter what you would say, he would only find it amusing and possibly use it to torment you further, either calling you a stuck-up hero bitch, thinking you’re too good for anyone, or a hero slut, willing to let anyone willing fuck you.

When Tomura realized he wasn’t getting an answer from you, he chuckled before he adjusted his four-finger grip on your neck, pulled almost all the way out of your cunt and slammed you down again until he was inside you to the base.

A pained cry flew from your lips but you had no time to even try and hold back your voice anymore, because Tomura immediately continued to jackhammer into you, moaning and panting into your ear as he showed the world how your cunt ate up his dick.

Your hands flew up to grab at his arm, futilely trying to steady yourself at least a bit, as he pushed and pushed and pushed into you. Squelching noises you were sure the microphone was picking up as well, came from your cunt as it greedily sucked Tomura’s dick back in every time he pulled back.

“Fuck, this is some grade A pussy,” Tomura groaned, his hips only slowing down a bit as his muscles began to hurt from the position. He caught his breath while he lazily thrusted into you, his moist breath uncomfortable on your ear.

Suddenly, Tomura moved and stood up from his chair, pushing you up as well with his hips. The hand that was around your throat slipped from under your arm and instead pushed down onto your back, laying you flat on his computer desk while his dick never left your tight cunt.

As soon as he had finished adjusting to the new position, he began railing you again, his hips slamming against your ass as his dick burrowed inside you further and further.

You let out a pained scream as his thrusts reached even deeper now, clenching your eyes shut as you tried to shut out the pain. At least in this position, the camera wasn’t able to get a shot of your face, you thought in relief, as it was too high to capture your body laid out on the desk.

Tomura must’ve noticed that fact as well because the next moment, the hand that pushed your back down moved up and grabbed your hair, pulling you up so your face was angled towards the camera. Your eyes flew open, a choked cry leaving you as you felt the burn on your scalp of your hair being pulled.

Right in front of you, you could see the red blinking light of the recoding camera and even though you wanted to close your eyes again, you found that the position made it impossible for you to do so.

So you had no choice but to stare into the camera as Tomura fucked you from behind while grunting and panting, your eyebrows furrowing as your eyes filled with tears.

After a minute of thrusting and you getting slammed against the desk again and again, Tomura leaned forward to read some more comments, his face erupting into a cackle when he read one of them.

“They’re saying I’m not taking care of you,” he told you, pulling at your hair some more so your head leant on his shoulder. “Saying you look like you’re not enjoying yourself.” He let go of your hair which caused you to fall forward onto the desk, almost slamming your head on the wood. “Let’s change that, shall we?”

With those words, his right hand began snaking around your waist, moving down so he could rub at your clit. His other hand pulled your back against his chest, giving the camera a better view and himself some more room to move his hand around your little nub.

At first, it was easy to ignore the touches on your clit, instead focusing on your uncomfortable position but then, he moved his fingers in a way that teased your clit just right and your mouth flew open as a loud moan left your lips.

“Ahh, so that’s what gets you going,” he laughed, immediately repeating the motion and trying to get you to make some more noises. You tried to hold back the sounds, tried to force yourself to close your mouth so no more moans and whimpers could escape you, but Tomura simply moved his hand on your chest upwards, pushing two of his fingers inside you mouth so it would stay open.

His thrusts had increased in speed again, his dick rubbing against your g-spot as his hands teased your clit and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your peak.

You moved your body and tried to angle your hips in a way that would made Tomura’s actions at least a bit more bearable but he noticed right away and made sure that you could not escape the orgasm that was building inside of you.

“Fuck, you’re getting even tighter,” he rasped, out of breath due to his insane pace. “Are you gonna cum around my dick?” He laughed at your pained expression, letting out a grunt as your walls began twitching around him.

“Yeah, just like that. Cream around that villain dick like the hero slut you are,” he groaned, feeling himself edging closer and closer to orgasm as well.

With one last effort, you tried to move away and stop his hand from pushing you over the edge but it was useless and with a cry, you came on his dick, the tears you had held back the entire time running down your face as your body twitched and convulsed, milking his cock like some desperate bitch in heat.

Tomura let out a choked groan, pumping into you a few more time as he announced that he was going to fill your slutty pussy with his cum, before you could feel his dick twitching inside you. You wanted to shout, wanted to beg him to at least not cum inside but his hand was still in your mouth and so you simply cried in silence as his warmth spread through you and began dripping out of your pussy.

Tomura let out a shuddering breath as he calmed down from his high, falling down in his seat and taking you with him. His dick began to get flaccid and with a plopping sound the pulled it out of your abused cunt, spreading your pussy lips for your audience to show them the copious amounts of cum that now dripped out of your slit and down your ass.

“Next time,” Tomura laughed as he pushed his cum back inside with two of his fingers. “Let’s try out that back entrance of yours.” He teasingly let his finger circle around your cum-covered asshole while you simply lay on his chest, motionless except for your harsh breaths and the sobs leaving your body.

He wiped his gooey fingers on your chest before he leaned forward to grab his computer mouse, waving to the camera one last time and telling his audience he hoped they had enjoyed the show before he cut the stream and the red light of the camera turned off.

 ____________________________________________

When the screen turned black, back at the agency Katsuki slammed a fist on the table. He didn’t want to watch one of his coworkers violated but they needed to make sure you weren’t killed while his colleague on the desk worked on tracing the IP.

Katsuki whipped his head up, shouting over to the other pro-hero. “Did you fucking trace the stream?!”

It was silent for a minute while his colleague typed furiously, trying his hardest to get a location.

“…no.”

Katsuki’s scream of rage could be heard through the entire agency.

[taechaos]

Can we have some jealous/sweet smut with textbook love couple?🥲 like I guess OC was wearing an outfit that was a little short and some guy was checking her out and trying to get at her but she didn’t even realize it and Jungkook gets mad and you know😏

this really went off the fucking rails 😷

"I don't see the point in you coming, we just go there to get high."

"Maybe she wants to try it," Taehyung shrugs before looking up from his phone with a mischievous grin. "What if she's secretly a freak–"

"I'm not, I just–" you sigh, reluctant to reveal your intentions behind wanting to tag along with Jungkook to a frat party. His reason is clear: his body is craving another drug trip. Yours is unknown to them, and you purse your lips where you stand uncomfortably in the student lounge. Why would such a motivated student go out on a school night to get influenced? Oh, no reason, just want to damage my organs because YOLO, right? "I want to spend time with you," you simply reason to your unwilling boyfriend.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, an indication of an incoming refusal, "It's a crackhouse with live softcore porn, and I know for a fact you'd hate it there. Remember last time?"

The issue is that you do remember last time, and also the time that you weren't there. Much like a fairytale, it ended happily both times, but the beginnings were rocky—and you didn't want to miss out on that chapter before jumping to the end. It ruins the tale.

"It's okay sugar tits, I give you permission," Taehyung says while playing a mobile game with his tongue sticking out, unaware of the stares he's getting in response.

"The fuck did you just call her?"

"I'm not asking for permission," you roll your eyes and put your hands on your hips to assert the tiniest bit of dominance on Jungkook who you hover over. The two men are relaxed in their seats while you're tense from knowing you're going to have to rebel against Jungkook. He isn't going to give in. "I will come."

"No, no you won't," is his plain and casual command. You send him a subtle glare but he merely raises a brow, as if challenging you to retaliate.

"You're not her dad, dude. If she wants to come, she will," his friend chimes in defensively.

"Thank you," you point at him with wide eyes.

"First of all, you're not even a part of this conversation," he tells Taehyung. "Secondly, I'm looking out for you as your boyfriend," he gives you a pointed look. "Thirdly, not her dad? Wouldn't you beg to differ." The suggestive hint makes your face flush in embarrassment, and his wink worsens it.

"Excuse–"

"You told me not to tell him!" The discussion ends when you march out of the lounge to cool off your heated skin along with your high nerves. This relationship did begin when you didn't take no for an answer, so what's the harm in doing it again?

—————

The night you lost your virginity, it was autumn and easy to figure out what to wear for a party: warm and cozy with some charming color. It's spring now, and a little more difficult to decide on what to wear without looking like a "high school girl" as Jungkook often describes your outfits.

Your roommate is more cultured in that field, and was kind enough to lend you her help.

Soyeon racks her eyes over your closet with a hand over her chin, elbow crossing her stomach as leverage for her other arm. Nothing is exactly screaming out sexy to her, and unless it's a cosplay gathering, your wardrobe needs more diversity; dressing shirts, skater skirts and knee highs are out of the question.

You wait to hear her thoughts while shifting in your seat on your bed until she quietly giggles. "And I thought I was conservative." She cranes her neck to you, not moving from her position depending on your answer, "Do you want to borrow my clothes instead? They're more... suitable?"

You nod. "Sure. I mean— if you don't mind."

You trust your friend to take care of the clothing portion, and it's with a few cringing "ehhh"s and "mmm"s that you are satisfied with the outcome of this minor quest.

A thin black turtleneck with unnecessarily long sleeves cover your knuckles like sweater paws, and the fabric hugs your torso tightly but ends just below your belly button. Soyeon found a solution to your discomfort with the slight exposure of your stomach by matching it with high waisted denim shorts and nude pantyhose. It's chilly at night, so it's the perfect outfit: doesn't stand out and fits in just right. You don't look like a high school girl nor a nun.

You kept your only concern to yourself because it's not much of a big deal, but it bothers you that the denim shorts don't reach your knees. By your standards, it's a little... inappropriate, but your roommate assures you that it's a common choice in this occasion. You let it slide.

—————

Your worries of being too early faded the moment you stood before the frat house that boomed with music and flashed with violet. You don't know the time code for parties, but you must be late considering the crowd inside. People are chattering loudly when you squirm past them, but there's enough space in the living room for you to breathe. No softcore porn or crack yet. Not many are dancing either. It seems all good here.

However, the search must go on because Jungkook is nowhere to be found in the living room. You hear deep howls from the kitchen and it piques your attention, prompting you to look there next. You can only hope Jungkook's not high yet, or has a girl on his lap.

When you walk in, the kitchen that is remarkably smaller than the living room is filled with men taking shots from the center counter, and Jungkook leaning against the other counter surrounding the walls with a joint in his hand. You stand still in the doorway, suddenly nervous of his reaction, but relieved that he's alone nonetheless.

He inhales a deep breath and the small smile on his face falters when his redshot eyes drag themselves onto you. He stands straight once you lock gazes, and you grin at him before he shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw. You unconfidently strut over to him, reaching his side in only a few seconds as he glares at you.

Only a syllable comes out of his mouth before his attention diverts from you to another guy nearby in a flash. "Hey, eyes off," he calmly demands the man behind you. You glance at him when he raises his hands before looking elsewhere. You presume that's sign language for backing off, and your shoulder blades move awkwardly at the guess of what he might've been looking at. "What the hell are you doing here?" he brings your focus back onto him.

"I wanted to check up on you," you lean into him to not yell out your words.

"Check up on me?" He's incredulous. "Do you realize where you are? You shouldn't be here."

The moment is interrupted when Namjoon and Taehyung enter the scene, and you stop gnawing on your inner cheek. You don't have any answers you want to tell him, and your muscles relax when Jungkook's friends notice you.

"Oh shit," Taehyung smiles widely, "you're actually here." He appears to be sober and you smile back at him. Namjoon on the other hand, is as high as a kite as he brings you into a light hug. Your eyes widen and you awkwardly pat his back, fixated on his dazed expression.

"I haven't seen you in so long," he says as he ruffles your hair. Jungkook slaps a hand over his face at the interaction and drags the skin with his fingers. "How have you been? Do you want a molly?"

"Dude," your boyfriend intervenes, annoyed. "Why are you back here?"

"Alcohol." Namjoon disappears behind you to search the fridge and cabinets and you look at Taehyung again. He's drinking in your awkward stance as he licks his lips while Jungkook takes another drag from his joint.

"Girl, you are fucked," he says when his eyes trail back to yours with a snort. "You came here in those clothes, when you have a boyfriend? Jungkookie, I have some bad news for you. Your cock isn't even satisfactor–"

"Seriously though," Jungkook tells you with furrowed brows, "why are you here? I told you not to come." His reaction is influenced by the weed, not so mad as he is confused by your rebellion without reason—you must have a cause for waltzing in here, especially after his warning.

You hum in discomfort and shift your weight onto your other foot. "I already told you..."

"Don't give me that bullshit–"

A yelp cuts off his words when you jolt forward from a slap to your bottom. It wasn't a hard hit, but the surprise factor has you throwing yourself on Jungkook. Taehyung's jaw drops while your boyfriend barely reacts.

"If that isn't the cutest ass I've ever seen," the culprit chuckles without taking his eyes off your butt. He's almost slurring his words, and his lopsided grin doesn't seem intentional; he must feel too numb to form a full smile. You watch him in disbelief much like Taehyung. "You got any coke?"

"She's taken, man–" he takes on the peacemaker role, but it's futile when Jungkook gently removes your arm from his chest and walks forward to the stumbling man.

"Oh, my ba–" his face scrunches in confusion when his cheeks are grabbed and squished, leaving his mouth gaping. You peek from above Jungkook's shoulder to see him raising his joint before stubbing the burning tip onto the man's tongue. A scream resounds in the overcrowded room when it makes contact, and you fall back into Taehyung's arms while the deafeningly loud music tries to drown out the pained sounds. It's barbaric.

"Ah, shit," he pushes you to the side and pulls back Jungkook, who's still abnormally calm. The whole situation feels surreal, and it seems as if no one realizes this isn't a dream.

The man stops struggling against Jungkook's hold when he's released and falls to the ground, crawling back while sucking his teeth. He's whimpering and afraid. "I didn't know," he speaks with a lisp, pathetically begging, "I apologized! I-I'm sorry!"

You cautiously take a few steps back, almost like you're trying to flee the scene, but it just seems like a good idea to avoid Jungkook's temper right now. Just as you're about to turn around and sprint, you're held back by a hand on your shoulder. No words are exchanged when you're dragged away, a bruising grip on your forearm as you stumble out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Some fucking deja vu, huh?" your boyfriend fumes, basically shouting out his words without glancing at you to notice your struggles to keep up with his pace.

Lunatic Jungkook: Unlocked.

You trust sober Jungkook to not hurt you when he's angry, but after seeing him commit such a painful act, it's more than reasonable why you're currently terrified of him while he's high. To think you were so comfortable with him earlier because he's high. His calmness makes him all the more unpredictable, and you're unnerved when he shoves you inside a random bedroom. Some reversed deja vu.

"I'm going to ask you again: why the fuck did you come here?" The only attack is with his eyes that send daggers at you, but you keep your guard up in fear of what he'll do. You have to tread lightly.

"I was worried what would happen if I wasn't here with you." Honesty is your only approach in this instance because when he's glaring at you like that, it conveys that he doesn't want to hear any more of your ludicrous excuses.

He rolls his hand, gesturing you to continue. You're nervously forcing out your words, "I didn't, um... know how you would act around other women while you're on drugs when I'm not around." When his face falls into monotone, you defend yourself, still tense, "Last time, you kissed Soyeon and before that, another girl! I-I had my reasons..." Your voice grows smaller, just like how you feel under his gaze. Your eyes flicker to your shoes.

"And those shorts?"

At your silence, he takes a few steps towards you and leans into your face, slightly bending to level with your height. He tugs on the hem of your shorts harshly, emitting a flinch from you. You don't return his stare. "What the fuck are these? You're stupid enough to come here, but coming here in these shorts? Are you okay?" He taps your cheek, encouraging you to look up at him, but it's both humiliating and intimidating. "I know you're not a slut, baby, but why are you so adamant on acting like one?"

"I wanted to fit in," is your weak defence in a mumble, gaze still downcast. You shouldn't feel so ashamed.

"No, you told me you wanted to make sure I wasn't cheating," he counters. "Don't fucking twist things now. You didn't need to dress up to see if I was fucking someone else."

Your round eyes shoot up in panic at whatever he's insinuating, "I didn't want you to realize how paranoid I was."

"So this was your grand idea?"

"Ah," you groan, just wanting this argument to end already. You know what he's thinking: "I was stupid. I didn't learn my lesson, and I ended up hurting someone because I'm stupid."

You release a relieved breath when he gives you distance to sit on the twin sized bed. He's facing you as he says, "When I tell you not to do something, you don't do it. I'm not trying to dictate you, you understand that, right?" You meekly nod and clamp your mouth shut when he continues, "You pull this shit again, I'm going to hurt someone else again. Simple as that. I don't care if they did anything, I'll hurt them as long as it gets you to listen to me."

"Okay," you exhale, shyly walking between his legs at his beckon. You tower him, but it's not helping your confidence as he places his hands on your hips.

"Okay," he whispers back as he plays with the waistline of your shorts. A moment of silence passes, and you allow yourself to calm down enough to sit on his lap and lay your head on his shoulder. "I like the high school girl look better on you."

You sheepishly grin but decide not to respond for the safety of your friend. He pulls on your pantyhose and it slaps against your thigh when he releases it.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Can't stay mad at you," he murmurs before pecking your lips. It's you who leans back in to extend the kiss, and he responds gently. It ends when he chuckles, "Passive smoking, hm? You feeling okay?"

You nod and lock lips again, his hand soothingly rubbing the side of your thigh when you clasp your hands behind his neck. Maybe he's right, maybe you did get a buzz from the secondhand exposure, but it doesn't influence your actions as you lower one hand to his chest. It just happens to fall on his crotch.

"Mm," he pulls away with a suppressed laugh, "you're actually high? Your hands just got a mind of their own."

"Then tie them," you offer in a breath. His brows shoot up, but his surprise doesn't prevent him from unbuckling his belt singlehandedly.

"A bondage kink? Who are you and what did you do to my nerdy girlfriend?" His joke emits a small laugh from you but his smile falters once his belt is in his hand. "Take your shirt off first."

It's no longer a guess when you slip out of the turtleneck in a flash; you are under some spell when you stand and hold your wrists together. The leather grazes your skin and sends delighted tingles down your spine.

"I hope I'm not going fucking crazy and hallucinating this," you hear him whisper behind you. A laugh escapes you and interrupts his internal monologue, and the buckle is clasped. "Now for the shorts..."

He stands up, pressing himself against you and peeking from your shoulder to undo the button of your denim shorts. You can feel his erection grinding against you when he tugs them down to falll at your ankles. You step out of the garment and turn around. When he gets out of your way, he gestures you to lie down and your hands are pressing against your back when you do so.

You watch him take his short off before straddling you and leaning down for another kiss. It's merely foreplay; he cups your clothed pussy and runs his hand down up and down, prompting you to sigh into him. He bites your bottom lip just as he slips his fingers past your underwear, murmuring against your lips, "Can you take me right now?"

"I think so," you shy. "I want to."

"Good," he sighs and removes his hand to massage his erection while undressing you completely. "I think... this is a better lesson."

"For what?"

"You don't know?" he pushes the cup of your bra to pinch your nipple mercilessly, and he hears your pain through your small scream. "A guy got burnt for no reason then?"

"No, no, I know," you gasp when he twists your sensitive nub, "because I'm stupid and I shouldn't have ignored you." Your back lifts off the mattress when you clench your teeth to suppress another scream. Despite your bounds hands, it's him talking down on you that renders you submissive.

"Mhm," he's condescending in his speech, "he did something wrong, but so did you, right? This is just the consequences of your actions, isn't it?"

It's his stinging touch that makes you agree to whatever he says, and you whine, "Yes!"

That's the only confirmation he needs to push his jeans down to his thighs along with his briefs, and your now bare pussy shies away from his cock by bending your knees. He pushes your legs even closer to you, and your efforts went against your intention by exposing yourself to him completely now. "You're so pretty," he admires with slight awe, "but I can't be shallow... You don't deserve to treated well."

His words make you shutter; you didn't do anything that wrong, but you aren't courageous enough to voice your thoughts. Everything he's told you today have turned out right, so he knows better to make that call. You stay unresponsive, head turned to the side to avoid his fierce gaze.

"No, you should hurt as much as he did," he mutters to himself as he trails a finger down your folds. You shiver and his gaze travels to your shy one. "What? Are you scared?"

You are unconfident with your denial, "No."

"Look at me then."

It's with a deep inhale that you glance at him, and your breath is caught in your throat when he shoves himself inside. Your whimpers resound brokenly in the bedroom where the bass of the music drowns it out. You feel the vibrations, but it doesn't serve as a distraction and you're aware that Jungkook can pick up your pained noises. He's simply ignoring you, but you can't dwell on the thought when he lets you adjust for a few seconds only before ramming into you. Your whines aren't enough for him, after all, what's a better indication of pain than a scream of agony?

His thrusts are out of rhythm, but quick and rough nonetheless as his hands push you deeper into the mattress as if to hold you down before taking your nipple in his mouth—more specifically between his teeth to bite.

"Jungkook!" It's not a gentle bite, and you know it wasn't meant to be, but you try to squirm away nonetheless. Your flight instinct is futile because his strength overpowers yours, keeping you in place with his palms while you struggle and cry.

"No more, please!" You wail when he finally sits up, and he watches you bounce back and forth due to the force of his thrusts. It's so pleasing, especially your moans, but mixed with your bitching... it's irritating.

He grunts, the sound bordering on a growl before he says, "You deserve worse."

"I don't! I didn't do anything." Your protests fall on deaf ears, or rather ears that need you to shut up. He wraps his hand around your neck in a chokehold, daring you to speak with his grip as he moans through a bit lip.

"Your ass was hanging out in a room filled with men," he speaks in between moans while you gasp to catch your breath, sounds of pleasure getting suck in your throat when he slams deep enough to hit your sensitive spot. "You didn't listen to me! Ah..."

Your windpipe is getting crushed the tighter his grip gets, and your cheeks start to flush until he drops his hand to lift your hips, spanking you while you wheeze. "You want attention that bad?" His words are mere gasps when he starts to lose himself, now gripping your waist to match his thrusts for you.

"Only yours," you muster out as your eyes roll to the back of your skull, letting him do all the work while you get closer to your climax.

"Lying whore." He slaps your tit before completely concentrating on his release, inching closer and closer by the second teasingly. It builds up in his stomach, and his abs contract and tense while he pistons his cock inside you faster, not drained enough to get sloppy just yet. It's when a loud moan resounds in the room, reducing to pants with slow drags of his length. "God, yes..."

You feel it when he cums, painting your walls white and warming up your insides, and he rubs your clit so fast that it has you seeing stars in mere seconds. It's so quick, the high, and your moan is music to his ears; he's too spent to enjoy it any longer before he collapses next to you.

"Fuck, please let me tie you up again," he breathes while you recover from the euphoric sensation he brought you by twitching and seeing white. You're panting when his hand falls on your stomach.

"Please... I'll be nicer if you let me. Hm?"

[bullshxtvixen]

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Pairing: Atsumu x Reader

Word count: 3.8K

Song: Lost the game - Two Feet 

Warnings: 18+, spanking, jealous/possessive, hair pulling, spitting, ass play, rough sex, edging, overstim, mirror fuck and degradation.

A/N: This is a part of the first ever Haikyuu Headquarters server collab! The prompt for this one was mirror fuck! If you want to read the rest of the fics, the masterlist can be found here, it’ll will be going live in a couple of hours!!

Shoutout to @thisisthehardestthing and @deathcab4daddy for beta reading this for me! Be sure to check out their blogs 💕

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You knew you shouldn’t have done it. You should’ve pushed the guys hand off you as soon as he dared to put it on you in the first place, but when you’d met those familiar chocolate eyes across the room that held barely contained anger, you couldn’t stop the smirk that formed on your face, so instead, you’d smiled up at the stranger and allowed him to keep his sweaty palm on you. 

From the other side of the room, Atsumu quietly seethed in his anger. He couldn’t stand the thought of another man with his hands all over you, and seeing you not only letting some creep leave his hand on the small of your back, but to have you smirk at him as well...well that was something he wasn’t going to let you get away with.

He was going to show you exactly what happened when you let another man touch you.

You were his and only his.

That’s exactly how you found yourself in your current situation, with him forcefully pinning you to the wall of the hotel room you were staying in, the expensive dress he’d bought you bunched at your waist while his fingers dug into the soft skin of your thighs, securing them tighter around his waist as his hips trapped you in place.  Hot breath caressed your neck as he trailed sloppy kisses along your jaw, stopping to nip at your ear lobe.

A whine left your throat at the feel of his teeth against your skin, your breath already beginning to come in heavy pants as you moved your hips against his, seeking any kind of friction against your clothed heat.

“Such a dirty slut for me, aren’t you, baby?” Lips dragged against the side of your face, his voice low and laced with need, “do you think he could drive you this wild without even touching that greedy cunt of yours, huh?” He gave a sharp thrust of his hips to accentuate his point, earning him a moan as your head fell against the wall, your mind clouding with lust. 

“I bet it’s already dripping for me, isn’t it, princess?” Teeth sank into the soft flesh of your shoulder as he ground his hips harder against your wet heat, crushing you further between the solid contours of his body and the wall.

“Answer me. Now.” Another hard thrust, another bite, this time to the side of your neck.

“Unnn~ fuck. Yes, only you make me this way, ‘sumu. Just you~” the need in your voice was obvious as your hands trailed up his neck, fingers fisting into his hair, tugging his lips to yours so you could taste him. You sucked on the tip of his tongue before he took control of the kiss, teeth clashing against teeth as you blindly clawed at each other, trying to bring yourselves closer together. You couldn’t help yourself, he was addictive and you wanted all of him.

When he pulled away to catch his breath, you used the moment to claim his bottom lip, dragging it between your teeth as you pulled back to meet his eyes, a look of mischief flashing across your gaze.

“I know you were just using him to make me jealous, baby girl,” he dropped your legs, instead wrapping a hand in your hair and giving it a quick tug, forcing your head back so that you had to look up at him as he towered over your frame. The pain in your scalp only added to the desire that was building in the pit of your stomach, your panties becoming slick with your arousal. You smiled innocently up at him, but he was well aware you were anything but. “I’m going to show you exactly who you belong to. You got that, y/n?”

You nodded despite the large hand that still gripped your hair.

He released his hold on you and in seconds your dress was ripped down your legs along with your damp underwear, leaving you to gasp as the cool air of the AC licked your skin, goosebumps erupting all over your naked body.

He paused for a moment, taking a second to admire your form before him. When you’d first met Atsumu, you’d been insecure of the way your body looked, but whenever his eyes raked over you the way they were doing now- filled with such a burning hunger that your skin felt like it was on fire- any trace of insecurity was turned to ash before it could fully form inside your mind.

He reached a finger out to delicately brush a lock of hair away from your collar bone, your body shivering under the light touch as he allowed his fingertip to trail across your chest.

“So beautiful… and all mine.”

You didn’t have a chance to blush at the compliment before he threw you over his shoulder and made his way towards the bedroom. Your legs clenched as the thought of him fucking you into the mattress flashed across your mind, but he didn’t stop when got to the bed.

“‘Sumu, what are y-“ his hand came down hard on your ass, cutting off anything else you had to say. Your walls clenched around nothing, desperate to be filled as your body began to heat up in anticipation.

He made his way into the spacious bathroom- white marble glistening all-around- before placing you on the floor, backing you up against the countertop, an arm on either side of you. You wasted no time in ripping his shirt open, buttons flying as his lips crashed down on yours, forcing your mouth into submission.

As he shrugged out of his ruined shirt, tossing it to the floor, you made quick work of removing his belt, adding that to the pile on the floor, before your fingers fumbled with his trousers, unwilling to remove your lips from his but still desperate to dispose of the last items of clothing keeping his body from your view.

Once they were undone, you reluctantly left his lips, yanking the trousers down along with his underwear in one smooth motion. He quickly kicked them to the side, discarding them with the rest of his clothes.

Heat pooled between your thighs as you took in the sight of his cock. 

It stood flush against his toned stomach, the swollen purplish head leaking precum that dripped down, following the vein that ran down the length of his shaft before splitting in two. Your tongue came up to coat your lips at the sight; it always rubbed against your walls in the most intoxicating way.

He smirked when he caught you staring, watching as your tongue disappeared back between your kiss-swollen lips. He was going to make that pretty little mouth of yours scream his name until your vocal cords were raw, the thought making his cock twitch.

Taking his cock in his hand, he languidly stroked his length, thumb capturing the precum and smearing it all over his throbbing cockhead. He didn’t miss the way your eyes followed his every move.

“Like what you see?” he chuckled, spinning you around so that you were facing the large mirror that ran from the top of the counter all the way to the ceiling. You watched his reflection as he brought his lips to your ear, so close that his breath brushed against the side of your face, “of course you do, you little slut, I bet you’re aching to have me fuck that needy little slit, aren’t you?”

The words made your legs clench together his voice saturated with lust as his hips pressed into yours, his cock slipping between your thighs. Your head fell forward as his length ghosted between your slick folds, a content sigh escaping your throat at finally having him so close to where you were aching for him.

“Ah ah ah, I don’t think so,” a hand came from behind, calloused fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Your nipples hardened as your eyes met his heated stare in the mirror, his tongue peeking out to wet his full lips, “eyes on me, princess. You’re going to watch me have my fun with this naughty body of yours.”

With his free hand, he took one of your pebbled nipples in rough fingers, rolling it between the thick digits as his hips began to gently rock into you. Within seconds, your slick coated his length, making it easier for him to slip between your folds, allowing the head of his cock to nudge against your clit with every movement of his hips. It sent shocks of pleasure straight to your core that had the coil in the pit of your stomach start to tighten.

“I’m going to make you cum just like this.” At his words he quickened his pace, the friction created earning him your mewls of approval as your hips grind down against him.  Each brush of his cock brought you closer to the release you so badly needed.

He was so close, so warm, as his body moved against yours. In your quest for release, you reached back, digging your nails into the side of his ass, pulling him closer. You were desperate for more of him and he knew you’d submit to his every need if he dangled the promise of pleasure in front of you.

Wanton moans fell from your lips as his free hand trailed down your body, stopping only to rub teasing circles against your swelling clit. It wasn’t enough pressure to make you cum, no, he wouldn’t let you just yet, but it was enough to torture you by hovering your release just outside of your grasp.

“‘Tsumu, please, i ne- fuck. I need to cum, please just unnnn- let me cum.” He loved it when you begged like that, the sound of your voice so full of desire made his cock throb between your legs while you continued to murmur soft pleas for your climax under your breath.

The cunning smile of his face as you watched him in the mirror told you that this was all a part of his plan.

Fucking arsehole.

He was teasing you, getting his own back for what you’d done. He wanted you to beg for it. He knew how much you needed him, he could feel your tight little hole clenching around nothing, enticing him to impale you on his length.

“Please ‘Tsumu, please, please please.” Another plea.

“You going to cum without my cock inside you like a good little slut?” He knew it was a pointless question, you’d do anything he asked if it meant you got to cum, he could probably ask you to let him fuck your ass right now and you’d willingly spread your cheeks for him.

You nodded anyway, unable to form words as his hips pressed harder into you, the edge of the marble countertop biting into your pelvic bone. You didn’t care. You just wanted to cum. The pain only added fuel to the liquid fire growing inside of you.

“What, princess, I don’t think I heard you?” he met your eyes in the mirror, the reflection of your own hunger evident in his.

“Let me cum all over your fat cock, ‘Tsumu, I need it, p-please. I’m so close.” Your head swam as your climax crept upon you, your body ready to give into it.

His movements were brought to a screeching halt just as you were inches from falling over the edge of the abyss.

He stepped back, removing his hands from you as he glared down at you in the mirror. Through the hair that’s fallen into your face, he could make out the anger filling your eyes as the fire within you ebbed. You hated when he denied you your orgasm, he’d done this to punish you and you’d fallen into his trap thinking he’d give it to you so easily after what you’d done.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you cum so easily after that stunt you pulled earlier, did you?”

That bastard. You were going to wipe that cocky smirk right off his face.

He realised what you were going to do immediately, so you’d barely moved an inch before his calloused hand forced you flush against the counter, his body covering yours, as you hissed at the cold marble coming into contact with your nipples.

“Eyes on me.” It was an order. You found his gaze in the mirror, his face hovering next to yours while breath tickled your ear as he spoke.

“I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to hold back. I’ll have you screaming my name as I pound that tight little cunt of yours so hard that you’ll never forget who you belong to ever again.” He pulled back, his hands moving to grip your hips keeping you pressed against the counter. “You better keep your eyes on the mirror as I fuck you, princess, or you’re not going to like what happens.”

Logically you should’ve listened to the threat in his voice, it warned you not to push him, but you were still so worked up from your denied orgasm that you didn’t even think before the words spewed from your mouth.

“Or what?”

He grinned.

“Or this.”

He brought his hand down on your ass cheek with such force that your whole body jolted from the impact. He watched the blood rush to the surface of your skin, forming a perfect imprint where he’s struck you. 

Marking you in any way always sent a sick thrill up his spine and he noticed the way your legs clenched together when his hand met your skin. You got off on this just as much as he did, it was why you were grinding your ass against him, hungry for his cock to fill you up. Such a needy little thing.

He brought his hand down on your other cheek, matching the same force he’d used on the other. A groan left your lips as you bathed in the burning that flashed across your rear, it mixed with the pleasure that still flowed through your body, begging to be released after you’d been denied, turning into a cocktail of desire that was ready to burn through you. 

“You ready, princess?”

It didn’t matter, in a split second, he was pulling your hips back to meet his, burying himself to the hilt inside you with one hard thrust, balls slapping against your clit as you tensed in his hold. 

Your moans mixed with his, filling the bathroom as you savoured the feeling of finally having him inside you, stretching your cunt painfully wide. Your body twitched as your walls clenched around his cock, trying to suck him in deeper.

“Did you cum just from me putting my cock in you?” Your body was vibrating as you found his gaze in the mirror, his eyes cast down to where you were both connected. “Fuck, princess, I think that’s a new record.”

“Let’s see if you can hold the next one in a little longer, huh?” 

Then, he was moving, pulling almost all the way out before sheathing himself fully inside you again. He did this a few more times, watching himself disappear between your folds every time. It caused the knot in the pit of his stomach to tighten. It wasn’t enough though, not enough to make you remember that you were his.

In and out he went, losing himself in your body with each thrust. The sound of his balls slapping against you filled your ears as he worked your body up to another orgasm, remnants of your last one still flowing through your body.

Your fingers clawed aimlessly at the countertop, trying desperately to find purchase as he stretched your walls to their limits. He was relentless, slamming his hips into you with such force that it was hard for you to breathe. The cold marble beneath you suddenly felt good as your body grew hotter and hotter. 

This was how he loved seeing you, submitting to him as he fucked your brains out.

You yelped when you heard him spit followed by the feel of his saliva hitting the base of your spine. His thumb collected it and moved to brush against your pucked hole, the tight ring of muscle shrinking away at the feel of something foreign against it. 

That wouldn’t do.

He slowed his movements, choosing to focus on your untouched hole. You tensed at the feel of him spreading his saliva around the area before gently pressing against your hole. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, just unusual. He paused, meeting your eyes in the mirror. 

Permission. He wanted your permission before he went any further, this was territory you were yet to explore.

He got his answer when you pressed back against him causing the tip of his thumb to slip past the rim. A sigh fell from your lips at the sensation, even though it was barely inside you, you were immediately overcome with a sense of fullness.

“Please, ‘Tsumu, more.”

He obliged, easing his thumb in the rest of the way. A growl forced it way out of his throat as both of your holes clenched around him. 

Your jaw went slack as he slowly circled his thumb while his cock massaged your walls. It wasn’t like anything you’d felt before, the fullness made you shiver in delight and when he began to ease his thumb in and out your ass, you knew that it wouldn’t be long before you came again.

“Princess, you have no idea how fucking hot you look with me stuffing both of your holes, fuck, I wish you could see how well you were taking me right now.”

You didn’t need to see, you could feel it as you stretched around him, taking everything he could give. That fire in the pit of your stomach was roaring now as he filled you completely.

“I want you to scream for me now, baby girl, then I’ll fill you with so much of my cum that it’s going to be dripping out of you for days.” His words got the reaction he wanted.

At the promise of being filled with cum, you forced your hips back to meet him, thrust for thrust, each one knocked a little more breath out of your lungs. This climax already felt different from the last and as it crept its way to the surface, you weren’t sure you could handle the intensity of it.

“Atsumu, I can’t… It’s too muc- AH!” the hand that had been gripping your hip had found its way back to your hair, pulling your head back so your face was in full view for him to see in the mirror. You watched as thick muscles rolled beneath his skin with his every move, the impact and speed of his cock ploughing into you made your toes curl while your breath caught in your throat.

“Say. My. Name.” Each word ended with a bruising thrust.

“ATSUMU.ATSUMU.ATSUMU, FUCK, ATSUMU,YES, FUCK ME, PLEASE.” you were vaguely aware of the words leaving your mouth as you screamed them, but you had no idea if they were coherent. You didn’t care, your body was being engulfed by the flames of your desire; it burned through you while you watched your face contort in pleasure in your reflection. Sweat coated your forehead as a heavy blush settled across your face, your tongue lolling to the side as your cunt clenched around the cock still burying itself inside your walls.

Atsumu’s movements became sporadic as he watched you watch yourself cum. That, coupled with the said of your screaming his name as he filled your holes, sent him spiralling into his own climax.

Your eyes finally closed in delight as his cock twitched inside you seconds before his warm cum sprayed your insides, coating them in his thick white release.

He kept his grip on your hair as you continued to milk him for everything he had, your pussy beginning to drip as his cum mixed with yours, but he didn’t stop his movements, he wanted to draw it out for as long as he could, though his thrusts were gentle now as he worked your body through the last moments of release.

When he was finally spent, he collapsed onto you, pulling his thumb from your ass before his arms came to rest beneath you, covering your body with his own. 

You bathed in the remnants of your orgasm for a while longer before your mixed release along with some of his spit began to run down your inner thighs. You pressed back against him, indicating that you needed to move.

He pulled back, groans falling from both of your lips as he pulled his limp cock from your abused hole. He couldn’t help but smile as it gaped slightly from how much he’d stretched you, trickles of his cum spilling out. He reached a finger out, gently collecting some on his fingers and pressing it back into you.

You were so sore from how hard he’d fucked you that the lightest touch made you whimper in discomfort as a low ache filled your worn-out body.

“Sorry baby, gotta make sure it doesn’t all go to waste.” 

“S’okay.” you mumbled, your throat raw from overuse. 

When you tried to move, your body gave up on you, leaving you bent over the counter as your legs turned to jelly. Atsumu took pity on you, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in warm water.

He quickly cleaned you up, carefully not to put too much pressure against the angry marks he’d left on your ass. When he was satisfied, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, setting you down slowly on the plush mattress before getting in beside you. 

Once he was beneath the covers, he pulled your body to his, wrapping you in his strong hold so that you lay on his chest, your head tucked beneath his chin. He placed soft kisses along your forehead while his fingertips ran along the length of your spine, the motion helped your tired muscles to relax, your body melting under his touch.

“I’m sorry…” you trailed off, unsure how to finish your sentence.

“I know. I just lost myself a little when I thought about his hands on you, y/n… I don’t care if I sound like a possessive caveman, you’re mine and I want you to always be mine.” You couldn’t ignore the way his voice cracked a little towards the end as his arm tightened around your waist.

Placing a kiss above where his heart lay in his chest, you smiled as sleep finally pulled you under.

“Always yours, ‘Tsumu…”

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finally some new content for you guys lmaoo

thought i’d include a lil aftercare and i couldn’t stop myself from getting a little sappy at the end lmaoo.

Be sure to check out the rest of the fics in the collab!!

[ageless-soul-au]

Something potentially angsty: What sorts of things make Legend feel dysphoric? And how does he cope with dysphoria? Hopefully he gets some help with that from his partners.

for anyone who'd potentially be triggered, I'll put it under a cut. also it's a little long, predictably hehehe :3c

cw for mentions of menstruation, sex, and genitals. 18+ discussion lol duh

y'know, when people talk about dysphoria, they usually mean body dysphoria, but that's not all there is. trans ppl who don't have bodily dysphoria probably have social dysphoria, and that's like. a big thing. that's like your whole life, how you interact with people, how people see you, etc. using the right pronouns and your gender presentation is super important so you can interact with people and they see you how you want to be seen (and there's a bit about that later in Confidential).

so, as of right now in the story, he's not horribly dysphoric. Legend used to be way worse, and Rav has helped a lot with that. and once he starts T, that helps as well. it just makes you feel better! kinda how you think you're supposed to feel.

but uhh periods kinda fuck him up emotionally. those stop shortly after starting T, but until then he needs the standard stuff to combat menstrual woes, plus lots of hugs and general comfort. i wish i could metagame him a diva cup to use, but T works better in the long run imo lol.

Legend doesn't have much bottom dysphoria rn (thank you Ravio for helping with his confidence and beating down his insecurities, which were mostly born from not knowing if Ravio would like him like that, to loop back to the social dysphoria thing. tho Legend does have to jump a mini version of that hurdle whenever a new person is introduced to the polycule's bed, but it's never as bad as the first) but he does have some top dysphoria. he binds, so that does help, but for my fam with tiddies, y'know how when you get home you yeet off the bra? same thing with a binder. wear it too long and it starts to hurt your ribs, tho i think with the construction of Legend's stays (how they're boning and not spandex panels like modern binders) it might not be so bad? idk i'd have to look more into corsetry (again vhdsvnldsk). BUT YEAH the stays have gotta come off eventually and when Legend feels a little more dysphoric about it, he'll layer and just opt out of any of his partners touching his chest until he feels better about it, bc it's usually not a huge problem for him. and he will eventually get top surgery! after the quest when he has time to be still for a recovery period lol

stuff for how his partners help him with looks/body dysphoria is they compliment him! they tell him he looks handsome and point out little masculine things about him. clothes help a lot, especially things tailored to fit and lay on the body a certain way. his partners know what things make him generally euphoric. they let him take the "leading position" in kisses and tuck themselves into his side to hug and cuddle. he likes taking care of them and that is traditionally a masculine thing, and sometimes leaning into stereotypes isn't a bad thing. they break out the cheesy titles ("my good sir!" "my liege" etc) and flirt with him, make him laugh, and help him feel better in general. they kinda play damsel in distress sometimes to get him to help them ("Legenddddd, this box is too heavy, I need my big, strong, heroic boyfriend to come lift it for me!" "[flustered] ...oh holy gods, fine..."), bc he feels best when he's useful. Wars might invite him to spar if they both feel good and the weather's nice! so yeah :3 they help improve his mood and throw in affirming compliments, on top of distracting him from the issue.

if he's having a more gnc presenting day and wants to wear a skirt or something and he's feeling iffy about it, it's a lot of the same stuff. he still wants to be seen as a man, and his partners will still do the affirming thing and offer to not go anywhere that day so he can wear his skirt in peace and not have to worry about being Perceived by anyone less understanding. he's more likely to wear stuff like that out and about in other people's eras, like Wild and Odyssey's.

Legend is my very specialest trans baby and i love him sooo so much, i want the very best for him.

-Kio, local trans who's perhaps projecting just a little vndkvnkls

[thiswasinevitableid]

17 Plant, Indruck, NSFW

I feel like a lot of my choices are a bit ironic or obvious but I hope you have fun writing them if you choose to because I thought the ideas would be written beautifully in your style! Thank you for always taking on these challenges! I think it really helps keep everyone excited and keeps the fandom love alive 🥰

Thank you so much <3

Also thanks to @bellafarallones2 for playing in this space on discord awhile back.

Duck’s used to having his face sat on. It’s what happens when a giant pumpkin is the closest you get to a physical form (most of the time).

Usually it’s little kids, either questing to climb the biggest thing they see or set upon it by photo-hungry parents. They don’t stay long, and the most Duck has to do is sneak a vine up to steady one that’s about to fall off.

He gets vloggers and influencers and whatnot too. He’ll just ignore them, though he wishes some of them would shut up for ten seconds. If he felt like it, he’d teach them how to tell a decent shaggy dog story. But he doesn’t, so he usually naps or checks on the real pumpkins while they ramble on.

Today, however, a new Amnesty Acres employee has been perching on him for two. Fucking. Hours. He’s drawing on a sketchpad, red glasses slipping down his nose and silver hair tied in a half-bun to keep it out of his face. Don’t get Duck wrong, his ass is nice, but when humans stick around this long he can’t stretch his vines or move for a better view of the nearby forest.

He taps one denim-covered thigh. A foot sporting black converse kicks out, but the man doesn’t even look up from his drawing. Duck twines a vine around his ankle, which never fails to make humans scream and run.

“Shoo, I’m busy.” The lilting voice sounds more distracted than anything else.

Duck tightens his grip and tugs.

“Knock it off.” The human gently kicks the front of his pumpkin.

He raises more vines and shoves him onto the ground. From this angle, Duck can see the name tag reading “Indrid” with a little moth drawn at the bottom.

The human huffs, setting his sketchpad aside. Then he cocks his head, tapping the pumpkin with curiosity, “Does this bother you?”

Duck swats his thigh in reply.

Indrid grins playfully, the expression like warm sun on hungry leaves as he traces shapes on Duck’s skin, “You know, you’re a very nice looking pumpkin. Maybe I should carve you…”

“Oh yeah?” The risk of speaking is immediately rewarded by Indrid’s eyes going wide behind his glasses. Duck shoves his orange shirt up and traps his legs against the ground before tracing the tip of a vine in a smiley face on a tan chest that’s just screaming for some sunlight, “how’d you like it if someone carved you.”

A nervous laugh bubbles up the human’s throat, “Is, ah, is now the time we both say ‘just kidding?”

Duck pulls back, lowering the fabric into place and patting Indrid’s stomach, “Yep. I ain’t interested in hurtin anyone. Just wanted a chance to move around some, and I can’t do that with your ass in my face. Not that it don’t make for a nice view on its own.” He makes a vine into a circle, holds a leaf at the center, then closes and opens it.

The human snickers, then tenses and fidgets with the orange crystal dangling around his neck, “Are all the pumpkins here like you? Because I’m not sure how that’s going to work out well when we need to harvest a new batch for the farmstand.”

“Nah, it’s just me. I’m a plant spirit, and this field has been my home for a long-ass time. Guessin’ I ain’t the first one of those you’ve met, seein’ as you didn’t hightail it outta here when I poked you.”

“Nono, you’re the first.” Indrid scoots closer and crosses his long legs, “the way I see it, there are lots of weird things in this world, and we should consider ourselves lucky to run into them. It seems silly to, ah, pass up the chance to know you.��� The setting sun highlights the blush on his cheeks.

“So you ain’t just wanderin from field to field hopin’ the plants get handsy with you?” Duck teases.

“If I’d known that was an option, I might have. I, ah, I mean, agh, apologies” He pinches the bridge of his nose, “see, this is why I have to work at a place where the most they need me to do is ring people up. I’ve never been good at normal conversations.”

His voice is like a field mouse hiding from a hawk, tone conveying all the moments and missteps that lead up to that confession. Duck picks up the discarded drawing supplies and sets them in the human’s lap, “Ain’t no shame in bein’ awkward. Or curious. And, uh, if you feel like indulgin that curiosity some, come back to this spot two nights from now.”

Indrid blushes again, standing as a dinner bell rings, “I’ll think about it. And I’m sorry about the kicking.”

“No harm done, darlin.”

The human heads towards the house, turning once to offer a little wave. Duck puts a vine to where he suspects a mouth would be on his pumpkin and blows him a kiss.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Amnesty is closed to the public on Mondays, so there’s no one in the U-Pick fields when Indrid wanders to the farthest end and sits down across from the massive Jarrahdale pumpkin.

“Hello. I am here to see if our conversation yesterday was some sort of ice coffee induced hallucination.”

The pumpkin shifts almost imperceptibly and there’s a muffled laugh not only from behind it’s rind but from the earth beneath him and the air above.

“Nah, but now I’m hurt you didn’t come here because you wanted to share your lunch with me.”

“I could if you’re hungry. Wait, no, you probably eat like a plant. I suppose I could pour soda on the ground for your roots…”

Another laugh, “I’m good.”

“Are you sure? It’s a limited edition Mountain Dew.” He shakes the bottle temptingly, “I did actually come here to eat, if that’s alright. I like how much of the woods you can see.”

“It’s pretty damn gorgeous. There’s even a badger family that lives in it, sometimes I’ll watch ‘em come out and snuffle around. Oh, and for awhile there was a barn owl nest at that far end, for a few years there were way fewer mice nibblin’ on my leaves…”

“Does it hurt when that happens?” Indrid unwraps his sandwich.

“Not really, seein’ as I’m tougher than the average plant. Usually they don’t bother me, they like the berry patches better anyway. Glad Mama took the hint and put the blackberries in.”

“You talk to her?” The surprise gets out before he can think about the fact that, if anyone he knows could keep the presence of a talking plant present, it’s his laconic employer.

“I communicate sometimes. Leave the seed catalog in the shed open to a certain page, put a weird-lookin pumpkin out where a plant is startin to get diseased, things like that. Ain’t sure she even knows it’s me, but whenever anyone asks to buy me she shuts ‘em down real quick. Says I’m a part of the farm.” A vine lifts his chip bag, “they’re makin chips outta crab now?”

“I think it’s a special kind of flavoring. There’s an Asian Market on the corner by my apartment and these are my favorite potato chips they sell.”

A smaller vine pets his ankle, “What’s your place like?”

As Indrid tells him, the pumpkin–who introduces himself as Duck–continues fiddling with his shirt and shoelaces. In exchange, Duck eagerly talks about the daily life of a plant spirit. When Indrid has to head back to work, the leaves droop just a little.

And here he thought being a struggling artist in an unfamiliar small town meant he was the loneliest thing on this farm.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid locks up the farm stand, having taken the closing shifts for this week so Barclay can actually go to bed at a normal hour for once. That and Duck told him he should come at midnight to satisfy his curiosity. At a quarter to twelve, he tucks his keys into his pockets and starts towards the pumpkin patch, moonlight making shadow puppets of all the plants.

“Just couldn’t wait, darlin?” Vines clear stray leaves and twigs from the ground so Indrid can sit down.

“It was faster than I thought to get the lunch counter cleaned up. We were swamped with field trips today.”

“Thought there were more kids than usual. Here, lemme do that.” Duck nudges Indrid’s hand aside from where he’s trying to rub his sore feet through his shoes and slips them off. Maybe at midnight they’ll turn into glass slippers and Duck will become a prince.

“Oh, oh that’s very nice, thank you.”

“Any time, sugar. Nice to have someone appreciates the vines.”

“They’re quite lovely.” Indrid pets a large leaf; Duck’s form doesn’t feel the same as the other plants at Amnesty. His leaves are sturdier but softer to touch, his vines and tendrils are smooth instead of prickly.

“Am I right that part of why you came tonight is you’re wonderin’ what else I can do with ‘em?”

“Yes.” His ears tingle with heat, “I went through a rather intense phase of reading, ah, erotic material featuring tentacles and vines and such. The thought of being touched all over all at once is, it’s nice.” He looks down, unsure why he’s shy when this was Duck’s idea in the first place. Vines sneak under his waistband, a few more stroke his face and pet his hair, and one even tickles behind his ear.

“I can do that. But I want a different body first.”

The alarm Indrid forgot to turn off beeps. There’s a flash of orange and green light, ozone and burnt Jack’O Lantern in the air. And then there’s a man perched on the giant pumpkin, eyes as green as the leaves at Indrid’s feet.

“Howdy.” He grins, stretching his arms and legs as the wind catches dark hair, grey streak about where a stem would cast its shadow. Even the fact he’s in overalls, checkered shirt the same color as his usual self, just adds to his charm.

“Hello.” Indrid tries to cross his legs, feeling like a hormone-drunk teenager for how hard the sight of Duck’s human form is getting him. The spirit has other ideas, two vines circling his thighs and holding his legs apart.

“Damn, now that’s flatterin.” Duck slides down to join him on the dirt.

“I, I, ah, I wasn’t expecting you to be so handsome.” He manages a grin, “did you ask me to come tonight just to show off?”

“A little.” Duck straddles him, cool, calloused hands cupping his face, “mostly I wanted to do this.”

He kisses him, and somehow it’s the last thing Indrid expects. Duck can change shape, control plants, could do anything he wanted to and Indrid would gladly take it. Yet all he wants is to climb into the human’s lap like a high schooler in the backseat with his boyfriend. Indrid loses himself in the faint scent of soil and earthy taste on Duck’s tongue until the spirit is satisfied and lets him breathe.

“Yeah, that was worth waitin a few days. You wanna move to the main event.”

“Please.” Indrid pulls off his shirt, laughs when vines lift him up enough to undo his jeans and pull them away.

“No underwear?”

“I’d like to say that was to surprise you, but I actually forgot to do laundry in time.” He braces for the feeling of his bare skin hitting the ground. It never comes.

“Can’t have you gettin too dirty. Just dirty enough to know you’re mine.” Duck answers his unasked question, kisses him again and murmurs, “want your glasses to stay on?”

“Yes, please. You’ll be blurry without them and I want to see you.”

Duck nods, kisses him a final time, and then lounges on the pumpkin like a throne as the vines move Indrid through the air. At first he’s afraid they’ll drop him, or fail to take his weight, but they transfer and turn him as if he was a piece of paper, presenting his ass to Duck.

“Just as cute as it was a few days ago.” Duck pats his right cheek as a thin vine teases his entrance.

“G-glad you approveEEP!” He gasps as the tip pokes in, “lube, oh I’m such a bonehead, I forgot to bring some, you can use spit, I’ll be alrIGHT!” The vine is suddenly slick.

“Plant spirit.”

“Right, right silly me.” He moans as his arms are trapped behind his back and the vine works deeper. Duck’s very human hands run up the backs of his thighs, and there’s a chuckle as a second vine twines around the first and slips inside.

Indrid groans, quivering as his body registers just how trapped he is.

“It don’t hurt, does it?”

“No, nono, I, I just, it’s been awhile since I’ve done something like this and I forgot how nice it feels.”

“Fuckin a harvest spirit?”

“Being helpless for someone.” He murmurs, trying to recall the last time he trusted someone enough for it.

“Ain't that a shame. Don't worry, I'm pretty damn good at making little humans helpless.” Duck kisses his shin.

“I’m, ahhhhhngoodness, getting that impression.” He wiggles his ass, “May I have more, please?”

“Well, ain’t you polite? I’m gonna add a third, lemme know if it’s too much.”

“Will doOOOyes.” The stretch is just what he’s aching for, the feeling of someone wanting to fill him so thoroughly making him rut uselessly at the air.

He whines, frustrated that he can’t reach back and touch Duck in return. A thicker vine suddenly rises between his legs, and he moans ecstatically when his cock grinds against it. Duck is staying put behind him and he knows he ought to be embarrassed to be seen dripping pre-cum in the dirt while vines make a show off opening his ass and fucking him deep. But all he hopes is that Duck is enjoying the show.

There’s a low, appreciative whistle, “Quite a show, darlin.”

Suddenly, the vines aren’t enough.

“Please say you have some kind of dick and that I can suck it.”

Duck barks out a laugh and stands, hand gliding along Indrid’s body as he moves in front of him, “Gettin fucked one way ain’t enough for you?”

“No.”

The spirit undoes his overalls, shoving them down to reveal a round, hairy belly and a wonderfully thick cock waiting between his thighs. He’s hard, a fact Indrid takes in with pride.

He’s expecting the vines to move him. Instead, Duck steps close enough that he can wrap his mouth around his cock with ease and fists both hands into Indrid’s hair.

“Fuck, is there anythin’ this mouth of yours can’t do?” Duck inches further in, grunting when he meets the resistance of Indrid’s throat, “first time I’ll cum in years and it’s gonna happen in ten goddamn seconds.”

Indrid whimpers, looking up with gaze he hopes conveys just how hot that would be. Then he gasps around his cock as a vine circles his own, stroking it up and down in time with the vines fucking him deeper. One vine inside him curls and presses until it finds his prostate and rubs it relentlessly until he cums across the ground. He’s still crying out, muffled and delighted, when Duck tightens his hold and fucks his face, his sharp, demanding thrusts giving way almost instantly to cum spurting down Indrid’s throat.

The spirit steps back as the vines set Indrid on his feet. When they disappear and his legs won’t support him, Duck is there to hold him, kissing the sweat from his face and breathing hard against his neck.

“Duck? Can we do this again?”

A gentle laugh and a kiss on his shoulder, “Insatiable little thing, ain’t you. Yeah, sugar, we can do this every night if you want. Or, uh, the vine part at least. I can only take a human form at midnight on a full moon, or if someone summons me, but that ain’t happened in a long-ass time.”

“That’s alright. I just…something about you makes me feel like I can be myself. Like I can let go and someone will catch me.”

Duck looks up, smiling, “Anytime you need me to, darlin.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Indrid visits Duck every afternoon and almost every night for two months. Even when he’s not at Duck’s side, Duck does his best to show him he’s thinking of him. He can make the breeze in the garden feel like it’s kissing his cheek, and more than once he’s pinched his butt when he was bent over doing some chore or other. Indrid always murmurs, “fresh” and blows a kiss his way.

But for the last three days, Indrid has been listless. He leaves for home right after work, apologizing to Duck for breaking what he sees as their dates. He brings his sketchbook at lunch, but doesn’t draw, and he’s not eating much either.

Today, Indrid comes and sits down on Duck. He stays quiet for a long time and Duck lets him, pets his leg gently with a vine to show he’s here if Indrid needs to talk.

“Duck? You said there was a way to summon you. Is it hard?”

“Nah, just not somethin’ that interests most folks.”

Indrid sniffs, quickly wiping under his glasses, “If I summon you at home tonight, would that okay?”

“Of course, darlin. Here” he draws his sigil in the dirt, Indrid taking a picture with his phone when he’s done, “draw that and light a candle. I’ll be there soon as you do.”

“Thank you.” Indrid stands, then crouches down and kisses the top of Duck’s form.

Just after sunset Duck’s whole body tingles, and then he’s human and standing in a tiny studio apartment. Indrid is sitting at the table with relief on his face.

“Hey, sugar. Oh, uh, okay then.” He wraps his arms around the humans as he burrows against him. He pets silver hair, so goddamn glad that he can, and adds “what’s wrong, ‘Drid?”

“The last few days have been awful. I got a horrible series of emails from my father, work has been so busy I nearly had a meltdown because I got overstimulated, and I had three people back out of art commissions. And there are all these little bad things too, and I just, I just, I wanted to hug you. I wanted to know if you even wanted to be part of my world beyond the farm.”

“Oh sugar, of course I do. I figured you didn’t want me creepin’ into the rest of your life, that’s why I didn’t offer the sigil sooner. Guess that was kinda silly of me.”

Indrid nods and clings to him.

“I’m here now, though. So howsabout you tell your boyfriend how to cheer you up?’

The human stares at him, surprised. Then he smiles in that way that never fails to chase the loneliness from Duck’s chest.

“Want to watch It’s the Great Pumpkin with me?”

Duck kisses his forehead just to see him smile brighter, “hell yeah.”

[kaepop-trash]

Unintended Consequences

Cover by: @hyeincovers​

Rated: Smut, Slow burn (very slow), Strangers to lovers

Pairing: JohnnyxReader

Summary: When you took a week off of work for one of your best friend’s wedding— a week off that was incredibly tough to even acquire from your demanding job— there were things you were expecting: lots of drinking, seeing your friends after a long time, the warm beaches of the island your friend decided to tie the knot on. What you did not expect boiled down to exactly two things: an absolutely embarrassing encounter in the depths of intoxication, and the person who was at the cause of said encounter. Neither were you prepared for the unintended consequences that came from your public mortification.

Word Count: 40K (Genuine oops for this.)

(A/N): The elevator thing actually happened to me a year ago at a wedding. I absolutely had to say that and add that everything after that is pure fiction. No Johnny’s walking around casually at any wedding I’ve been to. I also deeply miss beaches. There’s also a playlist I can’t link on this because tumblr is difficult.

Miscellaneous Masterlist 

Day 1

“I’m very happy for you.” (Y/N) said as she took another sip of her drink, holding the glass close to her chest as a last line of defense, “I just don’t understand why you’d have a week long wedding.” She shrugged a little, wincing when she saw her friend’s face fall. “I mean don’t get me wrong. I think this place is something else, I can hear the waves everywhere. But I had to coax and threaten my boss for the days off. She’s also in general just not happy about the concept of weddings, so you can imagine the mental gymnastics I had to pull.” She took another sip of her drink, frowning down at the now empty glass when she realised that the bottom of the glass was mostly the remains of the melting ice cube.

“That’s because your boss is a frigid bitch, (Y/N).” Sooyoung rolled her eyes, making (Y/N) giggle. “I’m one of your best friends? Plus!” She pointed a finger dramatically, clearly a little drunk, “We both know your boss isn’t going to fire your workaholic, competent ass. She’s practically grooming you to be her. So just be happy for me okay?” She pouted at her.

“I am happy for you.” (Y/N) smiled for emphasis but Sooyoung just rolled her eyes.

“And enjoy you time? Go get a tan on the beach or something, swim a little. This is your first vacation in what? Three years? Consider it my gift to you.” She waved her hand like a fairy godmother.

“Two years.” She stuck her tongue out and Sooyoung stuck hers right back. “I am saving up for a new apartment, you know that.” 

Sooyoung gave her a wide tight-lipped smile, “Hence the gift part. You work too hard and you were going to die of a Vitamin D deficiency if I didn’t save you and whisk you away.” Sooyoung picked up two glasses from a server passing by and handed her one glass. (Y/N) scrunched her nose, usually particular about her drinks, but it was Sooyoung’s wedding week. So she drank it anyway.

“You could have spared me the work day by letting me booking an evening flight at the very least, you know. Your Groom isn’t even here yet! Taking a week off is too much to ask from my boss.” She continued defending herself, more out of jest now.

“He’s coming later tonight. It was a flight problem. Plus he insisted he come with all his groomsmen.” She rolled her eyes like it was a dumb idea.

“So exactly like you did?” (Y/N) raised a brow and Sooyoung smiled slyly. “So Doyoung and you are made for each other.” She scoffed but her friend expertly ignored the sarcasm.

“We are, aren’t we?” She made a small noise of excitement. (Y/N) made a face that made Sooyoung laugh.

(Y/N) groaned, “I’m going to go look for Joohyun, you’re being too in love. It’s disgusting.” She stuck her tongue out again and Sooyoung mirrored it.

On her quest to look for Joohyun, she managed to pick up a drink for herself. Looking around the crowd to find her easily lost friend. 

“Oh (Y/N), just the person I was looking for.” She turned as Jungwoo grabbed her arm. The other hand holding two glasses, the logistics of the balance momentarily caught her off guard. He pushed the glass into her hand, “Come on, let’s drink.” He gave her a wide grin.

She sighed as she looked at the small glass, “You could have at least had the dignity of getting a slice of lemon.” She frowned but he bought the glass up to his own lips, ignoring her. Unwillingly, she did the same, the liquid burning all way down to her stomach. She needed to eat some food.

“This is why I love you.” He spoke after he finished grimacing, “Let’s go get more shots.” His grin never left. (Y/N) laughed at his child-like excitement over the presence of the open bar.

“Sooyoung will be livid if the hotel staff has to peel us off the floor. Plus I’m looking for Joohyun.” She shifted on her feet as the heat of the alcohol spread in her belly, she hated shots.

“That’s an excellent idea. Let’s go find Joohyun and we can all do shots!” He laughed at his own idea like it was the best idea he had. She rubbed her forehead, frustrated with the conversation coming back to the same outcome.

“Can we at least get one of those canapes?” She bargained, pointing to a waiter passing by.

“Later.” Jungwoo slipped his arm into hers and waved his hands, “Joohyun!” He said, making her frown. How did he find her so easily when she’d been looking for so long?

She wasn’t sure what the time was when she got on the elevator. She kept her eyes on the floor, trying to stop her head spinning. In the distance the music still thumped, the bass of it vibrating in the cramped space. 

“Why did we leave so soon?” Jungwoo pouted at her.

“Because you puked in a cactus hedge and the hotel staff told you off for ruining the rock bed.” She glared at the floor, hoping her tone filled in her displeasure.

“This elevator is going down?” Wendy murmured. (Y/N) looked up to find her squinting at the buttons— the one to their floor was definitely pressed. But like Wendy said, the elevator was on it’s way down.

“You guys.” Yeri whispered, “I once watched a movie where this happened.” She said with a voice too full of dread.

“Where what happened?” Jungwoo asked nervously.

“The elevator went to the basement. And this witch stood there, her hair floating around her face.” She pulled her hair across her face for emphasis.

(Y/N) snorted, pushing her own suddenly uneasy nerves down.  (Y/N) blamed the alcohol and the tone of Yeri’s voice for the dread she felt. She tried to shake it off, “Are you talking about Inception?” She scoffed louder.

“Am I?” She looked at the floor, trying to recall.

The elevator dinged open in the basement and despite herself, (Y/N) looked out while her friends debated whether Inception deserved an Oscar. A figure emerged from the shadows in all black. Before she could help it, (Y/N) screamed and covered her face. Everybody in the elevator jumped in horror as the man walked into the elevator with wide eyes. She sank to the floor quickly, keeping her face covered with her hands. Her friends all burst out laughing and the sound that came from her lips were a mix of laughter and mortification. Her face felt so hot from embarrassment that it felt sticky.

“What happened?” A voice she didn’t know asked with concern. She stayed in place, crouched with her face covered. She did not need to see his face and she was glad he would not see hers.

“My friend thought you were a hairy witch.” Seulgi spoke, everybody burst into laughter again. If the ground opened up in the moment, she would jump in before it had a chance to swallow her.

“I like to believe I’m well groomed.” The other voice spoke again, laced with amusement. Earning himself another round of laughter, joining in himself.

(Y/N) stayed planted on the floor firmly with her identity masked till the elevator dinged.

“He’s gone now.” Yeri announced with a chuckle and finally she stood up, still mortified.

“That was the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Jungwoo said with a clap.

“I just want to go to bed.” She murmured.

Day 2

(Y/N) wasn’t sure when she actually fell asleep. After spending more than an hour in the shower to wash away her mortification and intoxication and tossing and turning in bed to fight reliving the incident in her head repeatedly she reminded herself that it was just a stranger— someone she would never see again and who had never seen her face. With that reassurance she finally managed to get a few odd hours of sleep.

At the moment she sat at a table in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. Her face felt so swollen from the alcohol and lack of sufficient sleep that her eyes pressed into her forehead— or maybe that was the hangover that was currently raging inside her skull, she couldn’t decide. Jungwoo scrapped his fork against his plate and she groaned, putting her head in her hands.

“Please. Have mercy.” She begged him and he apologised with a surprising amount of earnestness.

“Aren’t you going to eat something?” Joohyun pointed her knife at her.

“At some point. Since you so rudely woke me up.” She frowned at Joohyun, her current roommate.

“Nobody asked you to drink your weight in alcohol last night. You need to eat or you would miss the yacht party in the afternoon.” Joohyun reminded, unhelpfully. 

“Fuck that’s today.” She groaned, this time Wendy and Jungwoo joined her. She sighed to herself, looking back and forth till her eyes focused on the table with the juice canisters displayed on it. She focused on the large glass containers, frosted with the promise of ice cold juice and got out of her chair with a mission.

After roughly seven glasses, she felt partially human again. Giving into the rising growl in her stomach, she got up to find some food.

With a plate of eggs and sausages in her hand, she stood in front of the coffee machine, looking at the contraption with distrust. She missed her french press already but sighed and pushed the needed buttons.

“Four shots of espresso in one cup?” A voice spoke from behind her. She squinted, pretty sure she had heard it somewhere. But the person that came to stand beside her wasn’t anybody she had met.

“I like the elevated heartbeat it gives me. Like an adrenaline sport but without the immediate threat to my life.” She replied wryly, earning a chuckle.

“That’s quite ambitious.” He tapped his chin, making her look up at him.

“My mom says the same thing. I just like to consider myself a run-of-the-mill addict.” She shrugged, really not in the mood to make conversation while half her body was still shut from dehydration. It didn’t help that this man was attractive and this morning she looked like the claim she made of being an addict might hold some water. She frowned, the man seemed to straighten up.

He snorted and she noted his sudden discomfort with amusement, “No judgement from a fellow addict himself.” He shrugged and she smiled at the coffee machine. The machine squirted out it’s second espresso and she tapped her foot on the floor.

“Sorry for keeping you.” She said sheepishly.

“No rush, we’re all here for breakfast anyway.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. In a better state she’d give his muscles a better look over. Instead she kept tapping her foot on the floor.

“You seem to be in a rush though.” He looked down to her feet. She stopped her tapping, not knowing how to explain that her nature was impatience. 

Eventually the last espresso successfully reached her cup and she picked it up, considering the idea of using the kettle of hot water beside the machine more convenient than the rising anxiety she felt for holding someone up. He looked like he wanted to be out of here, and she wanted to currently cease existing because of her headache.

“Sorry for the wait.” She said quickly as she poured herself the water to fill the cup the rest of the way.

“And you drink it black.” He sounded pleased and she gave him a distracted nod and a concluding smile, walking away before he finished his thought. 

If it wasn’t nine am, she’d have better manners.

(Y/N) realised, rather unwillingly, that Joohyun was right. After the breakfast and a shower, she felt more prepared for the afternoon’s festivities. 

At the moment she stood in front of the mirror, putting on her mascara. As someone who constantly survived on questionable hours of sleep, the bar wasn’t set too high; nonetheless, she was impressed by her efforts to look presentable.

“I can’t believe our Sooyoung is getting married.” Joohyun spoke with a small gasp of surprise.

“Me neither. You’re all starting to leave me behind one by one.” (Y/N) joked, pleased when it worked to get Joohyun out of her reflective melancholy.

“You’ll get married one day too. And that day i’ll actually not believe it.” She chuckled to herself while folding a dress.

(Y/N) chuckled cynically, “There’s a long time till that day I can promise you that. I have to watch you go through your married life and at least a pregnancy first. Just to know that I am aware of what I will get into.” Joohyun blushed, throwing a towel on the bed at her back.

(Y/N) stood toward the back of the yacht, the stern, an over chatty guest had helpfully informed her a while back. She closed her eyes to feel the salty breeze on her face, enjoying the quick moment of quiet. Her phone was somewhere deep in her purse and her purse was somewhere deep below deck. There was no cellphone reception this far out and she settled her agitation by reminding herself that she was in fact on vacation. So she relaxed and breathe in the smell of the ocean around her. 

After her moment of peace, she decided to go back towards the party— mostly to get herself a glass of champagne and the fried chicken that Yeri promised her was the best part of the afternoon.

“(Y/N)!” Sooyoung gestured to come towards her eagerly just as (Y/N) encountered a tray filled with champagne flutes. She raised her glass to Sooyoung with a chuckle and walked towards her.

“I was looking for you!” Sooyoung said with a wide, happy smile. “You are yet to meet Doyoung’s friends, come on.” She put her arms through (Y/N)’s and pulled her towards a group of men chatting with each other. Sooyoung let her arm go only to put her elbow on Doyoung’s shoulder, who affectionately put his arm on her waist. 

“You’ve met my Doie, of course.” She grinned. The first time (Y/N) met Doyoung, he was embarrassed of Sooyoung using that nickname in front of others. Today he just smiled through his growing blush.

“How have you been, (Y/N)?” He asked her, “How’s work?” He tried to make conversation.

“Don’t ask her about work please.” Sooyoung swatted him making the others laugh, “She’s going to go off looking for that dreaded phone of hers again.” She chastised him and he apologised.

“Don’t scold your future husband. He’s just trying to be polite. He would ask me about my hobbies if we had more chances to talk about that.” She scolded Sooyoung back but she just gave her an unconvinced shrug. Doyoung gave her a grateful smile though.

“These are my friends, (Y/N).” Doyoung turned to the other people. “You’ve met some of them.” He said, while he introduced her to them. (Y/N) smiled at them, her eyes stopping on the man she recognised from the coffee machine.

“I’m Johnny.” He extended his hand to her, giving her a teasing smile. “If you didn’t walk away quite so fast in the morning I would have told you that.” His smile grew wider. She returned his smile, noting the Patek Philippe watch around his wrist.

“You’ve met?” Both Doyoung and Sooyoung asked at the same time.

“In the morning, while we both waited for our caffeine fix.” Johnny informed, making Sooyoung smile wide enough to make (Y/N) suspicious.

“You both live in New York, you know.” Sooyoung said eagerly. (Y/N) nodded at her, unsure of where she was going with this.

Johnny seemed to consider the information, smiling with intent. “Sooyoung, it seems you’ve been hiding your friend from me.” Johnny jabbed lightly and she laughed in response.

“Me? I haven’t seen (Y/N) for a year before the wedding. How do you get to meet her?” Sooyoung teased him back and Johnny laughed.

“It’s not my fault you moved to San Francisco.” (Y/N) reminded Sooyoung. She just waved the accusation away, making (Y/N) smile.

“(Y/N)!” Jungwoo’s voice almost filled her with relief. She had started to feel a little out of place among people she didn’t know that well. She turned to where he spoke from, giving him a pleading gaze in hope that he would take her away. “Have you tried the fried chicken yet?” He spoke as he approached, stopping halfway to look at somebody else.

“You!” Jungwoo said, suddenly laughing. “Oh my god, you’re Doyoung’s friend?” He clapped his hands together in delight. She looked back at Johnny, confused by Jungwoo’s acknowledgement.

“How’s your friend?” Johnny spoke, a smirk settling on his face, “I hope I didn’t give her too much of a fright.” Jungwoo opened his mouth, before turning to (Y/N). 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” He giggled, straightening up when she glared at him.

(Y/N) turned to face Johnny so slowly, almost too aware of how suddenly everybody around her had their eyes on her. She knew his voice sounded familiar in the morning. He was also too monstrously tall for there to be more than one. She bit her lips like it would somehow stop the blood from pooling into her cheeks.

“Oh?” Johnny raised a brow, an intrigued smile on his face.

“Who else did you think was small enough to crouch down so efficiently into a ball on command.” Jungwoo clapped her back with acknowledgement, unaware of how she was resisting the urge to push him into the sea. Johnny looked her up and down, as if realising that she was in fact too short. To her horror, his smile only grew wider. It didn’t help that he was the tallest one around.

“What’s going on?” One of the men, Ten she remembered, asked out loud.

“I was wondering the same thing.” Sooyoung mumbled.

“Let’s go try that fried chicken yeah?.” (Y/N) pulled Jungwoo away quickly, pinching his arm when he tried to protest.

“Why would you do that?” (Y/N) hissed when they both reached a respectable distance. She shoved him towards the railing to satisfy part of her urge to shove him off-board. Jungwoo looked at her with his best innocent face. “He didn’t see me, you know? I could have gone this entire week without this humiliation.” She whined.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Jungwoo rolled his eyes, swallowing a choked cough when she glared daggers at him, “I mean, does it matter?” He laughed nervously. “Just some light fun that you’ll laugh about in a few years I’m sure.” He chuckled by himself, “(Y/N) please.” He blew air from between his lips dismissively to emphasize his point.

“Maybe we should tell people about your incident in the cactus bush.” She narrowed her gaze at him, taking the smile from his face.

Jungwoo laughed nervously and looked around before jumping up and pointing to the crowd, “He’s coming here, (Y/N)! Elevator guy.” Jungwoo whispered. She straightened up and grabbed Jungwoo again, walking away into the crowd. When she turned back, her eyes met Johnny’s for a brief moment. She turned away, not lingering on his smile.

Jungwoo pulled his arm out from her hold once they were two decks below, “You can’t exactly escape him on a boat. Vastly limited escape routes.” He said it like she somehow didn’t understand that.

“I can at least try. You put me in this situation,” She pointed an accusatory finger. “So humour me, Kim Jungwoo.” She groaned.

Jungwoo pouted at her, “We didn’t even get to have the chicken.” He whined earning an incredulous glare.

“We’ll get it on the way out.” She sighed in defeat.

“Or we can just get it when they cut the cake.” Jungwoo shrugged with excitement. When she frowned Jungwoo laughed, “Excuse you, Sooyoung is up to her forehead with wedding nerves. She will skin us both alive if we aren’t in the pictures. You’re usually the one I’d be more scared of, but bridezilla wins any fight.” Jungwoo scoffed. (Y/N) was at a loss, of course she couldn’t miss that. Sooyoung would be devastated. She slumped her shoulders in defeat, giving him a nod.

(Y/N) was too aware of the eyes from across the crowd that were singled in on her, but Johnny didn’t move from his spot. She stood across the cake, taking a small amount of pleasure in a victory that was short-lived. In a week long wedding, she would inevitably have to see the man countless times, especially considering he was one of the groomsmen. At the moment though, she kept her eyes on Sooyoung who looked content as she and Doyoung cut a small cake that Wendy assured her was only that size to not outshine her actual wedding cake. She thought of what Joohyun said earlier in the day as she turned to find her trying her best to hold back her tears. Sooyoung really was getting married and (Y/N) was happy for her.

As the sun set beyond the horizon, the festivities of the day seemed to slow down. The music dropped to a slower tempo above her as (Y/N) tried to dig through the coats and bags below deck to find hers. Why someone would bring a coat to a tropical retreat was beyond her. She sighed with relief when she finally spotted her bag, pulling it out eagerly. Now that they were steering back towards the coast, the reception was bound to return.

“Oh, I didn’t realise someone was–” She jumped, caught off guard. She turned to find Johnny watching her, the same amused smirk on his face— maybe that was just what his face looked like. 

“Are you usually this jumpy?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, studying her.

“I was just looking for my bag.” She held up the object, like it was evidence.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I just needed to make a call. I was hoping the reception would be back already.” He laughed effortlessly, running his fingers through his hair— ruining the hold of whatever product there was in it. Infuriatingly, it still looked really good. 

(Y/N) blinked, realising that she was staring at him. He smirked at her again, looking her over again. Her mouth felt a little dry at the scrutiny, and she resisted the urge to lick her lips. Instead he licked his, preparing to say something. Her phone rang loudly in her bag as he opened his mouth. She yelped and he let out a laugh at her response.

“I guess the reception is back.” She laughed awkwardly, looking away to rummage through her bag and holding up her phone to her ear. “Hello?” She spoke into the object, turning away from him with a surge of relief.

As the yacht finally docked at shore, (Y/N) was sure there was some altar she needed to leave some offerings at out of gratitude for the sheer luck she had today: avoiding Johnny all day. On the other hand, one of her clients had urgently gotten in touch and given her work that she was sure would occupy the rest of her evening. Her assistant called as she walked down the deck towards the resort, a hand on her shoulder stopping her.

“We’re going for a drink at the hotel bar with Doyoung’s friends, join us.” Sooyoung said, her smiling fading when (Y/N) gave her a sheepish one in return.

“I promised my boss I’d be available remotely. A client needs something urgently, if I don’t do it now I won’t be free tomorrow.” (Y/N) said apologetically. Sooyoung sighed but put on a smile. “It’s fine, it’s just a drink anyway.” She tried to mask her disappointment, “Go before I change my mind!” She pushed her playfully.

With years of experience and immense help from her assistant, (Y/N) managed to finish her work just short of midnight. Realising that she wasn’t tired enough to sleep, she called the reception; they helpfully informed her that the pool and gym were open 24/7 on account of the wedding party.

After a round on the treadmill, (Y/N) was in the pool. She sighed as she floated around, relishing it. She loved swimming, and with a sigh she realised that she had been here for two days now and it was her first time visiting the pool. She lifted from the surface, the sound of the crashing waves returning the moment the water dripped out of her ears. She looked out towards the ocean— the moon and lighting across the property making it visible. A sigh that was meant to be wistful came out melancholic as she turned away, taking a dip under the surface of the water. 

The second time she emerged, her eyes fell towards the glass wall that made the gym overlook the pool. Behind the glass, Johnny sat on a stationary bike.

Her breath caught in her throat.

 It was fairly obvious that he was watching her; not bothering to look away when their eyes met. She felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, realising that it wasn’t from embarrassment this time but the look in his eyes. Heat pooled in her stomach despite the cold water she was surrounded by and he still made no effort to look away. She stood frozen, her feet far from the ground this close to the deep end but she tried her best to keep her face up. She realised that her heart was beating very fast. 

Johnny was an attractive man no doubt, but as his eyes bored into her and he licked his lips, she was suddenly too aware of how attractive he was. His lips parted into a smile, the same one he seemed to always have for her— like they both shared a secret. (Y/N)’s toes felt cold, like all her blood was rushing away from the extremes of her body.

All too quickly, his lips turned down. 

He frowned and lifted away from the bike handles, sitting up straight and tapping on his ear. When he looked away and looked like he spoke, she realised he answered a phone call. She was about to turn away when he gave her one last glance, a passing expression of apology and impatience in them. Then he got up and left the gym.

(Y/N) let out a breath she had held on for a moment too long. What was wrong with her? She shook her head and got out of the pool, reprimanding herself all the way to her room. When she got on the elevator, a pained laugh left her lips.

“You’re stupid and the fact that your friend is getting married is getting to you, (Y/N).” She mumbled to herself as she dried her hair with a towel.

Day 3

It was a vile six in the morning when (Y/N) waited in the lobby with her friends for the rest of the party to show up so they could go visit the town nearby and buy trinkets at the market. Jungwoo walked in after a few minutes with a croissant sandwich in his hands making Yeri frown at him.

“What? I wasn’t going to skip breakfast.” He spoke with his mouth stuffed.

“How are you eating that so early in the morning.” Yeri wrinkled her nose and he stuffed the sandwich under her nose in response, making her shriek and swat him away.

“You’re too loud.” Joohyun scolded them with both her index fingers inside her ears. 

Sooyoung and Doyoung walked in amidst the chaos, with Sooyoung laughing at Yeri’s annoyed expression.

“You aren’t allowed to look this perfect at this ungodly hour.” Yeri groaned, making Sooyoung flick her hair in response.

“It’s the honeymoon glow.” Seulgi nodded, while eating a croissant sandwich Jungwoo carried along for her on her request.

“They aren’t married yet.” (Y/N) looked at Seulgi like she was being ridiculous.

“Look around you. This is a honeymoon.” Jungwoo scoffed and they had to all agree with a thoughtful hum.

Sooyoung turned to Doyoung, “Yes, they’re always like this. Welcome to the family.” She patted his back sympathetically.

Doyoung scoffed, “They aren’t as insane as the boys, don’t worry.” He laughed, “I think you guys are charming.” He smiled affectionately.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that was sarcastic.” Jungwoo whispered to Yeri who sighed in response.

“Everybody can hear you. Shut up.” She said back in the same volume, making Doyoung laugh.

Doyoung’s friends walked in a moment later, laughing amongst themselves about something.

“Why are all of Doyoung’s friends so good looking?” Wendy leaned over to whisper to (Y/N)— an actual whisper compared to Jungwoo. She turned to Wendy, raising an eyebrow at her and making her blush. “What? I know you’ve thought about it too. Don’t judge me.” She sputtered, making (Y/N) smile at her.

“Good for you, you’ve got an entire week to explore that thought.” (Y/N) winked at her with encouragement, “Plus I’m sure Sooyoung will be more than glad to set you up.” She suppressed a laugh as her words seemed to make Wendy look away with a shy shake of her head.

“Where’s Johnny?” Doyoung’s voice caught her attention, making her turn to the group of men, noticing the missing one.

“Something about an important buy-out.” Mark spoke up, “I’ll be honest I wasn’t paying a lot of attention, but he was up all night and he’s still working on it.” Mark shrugged. 

(Y/N) looked away, feeling dumb for the disappointment that gently nudged at her chest. She was avoiding him, because she was embarrassed to be around him. She shouldn’t be that fickle, especially over a single moment from across a pool and a glass wall.

By the time the sun was above their head, most of them were loaded with shopping bags. Ten and Yuta offered to carry their bags if it got too heavy and (Y/N) was sure they regretted the offer with just Yeri’s freight. Doyoung insisted on carrying Sooyoung’s bags, but she was kind enough to share the burden.

At the moment, the rest of them looked for a restaurant to eat at while Mark and (Y/N) went in search of a brass bowl. 

“Hey (Y/N), I think I found it!” Mark announced as he pointed at a small shop where sure enough, she could see the bowls she had been in search of. While they looked around the shop, Mark’s phone rang.

“Hey dude!” He stretched the last word with a giggle. Whatever came in response seemed to surprise him because he made a very audible sound implying the same, before stepping outside and squinting at the name of the shop. He seemed to focus on it for a long time before probably realising that it wasn’t in a language he understood. (Y/N) tried to bite back a smile as he walked back into the shop with a defeated sigh.

“Hey (Y/N).” He sounded unsure as he spoke, “Do you know where we are?” He scratched his head. When she nodded his eyes lit up, going wide. “Wait (Y/N) knows!” He smiled at her, giving her a thumbs up that she felt compelled to return. She gave him the name of the market and he tried his best to reiterate the name to whoever was on the phone.

Mark paused mid-sentence, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, “Yeah just call Doyoung, the restaurant will probably be easier to find.” He let out an awkward laugh, “Sorry dude.” He chuckled awkwardly. This time she snorted, finding Mark’s disposition hilariously animated. When Mark hung up the phone, he didn’t seem annoyed by her laugh. In fact he seemed amused himself.

“Thanks dude.” Mark said before stuttering and correcting himself, “I mean, (Y/N).” He put his palm to his face,groaning. “Thanks (Y/N).” He winced at himself.

(Y/N) shook her head at him, eyes glittering with humour, “You can call me dude.” She chuckled. “I don’t mind.” 

They left the shop with two bowls wrapped in newspaper. Mark asked twice if she needed help carrying her things but she insisted they weren’t heavy.

“Mark!” A voice came from behind them, making them both turn.

Johnny waved at Mark, walking towards them with quick strides that looked effortless with his long legs. He wore black cargo pants with a sleeveless white t-shirt that made his biceps very visible as he walked closer. A pair of sunglasses sat perched on his nose which made it hard to tell if he noticed her. Yet when his lips bloomed into his signature smile, the sunglasses made no difference. That was the smile he gave her, it was her smile. 

The thought made unsolicited butterflies rise up her stomach and move around her chest.

“Hi.” He greeted her casually, making his lopsided grin look effortless. She gave him a wave, mentally slapping herself for not having something better to say.

“I can’t believe you actually came dude!” Mark gave him a fist bump, “I thought you’d crash after staying up all night.” 

Johnny just shrugged at his words. “I can sleep later.” He took off his sunglasses, slipping it into his collar. “So, what are we doing?” He smiled at both of them.

“Well, (Y/N) and I bought these brass bowls she was talking about on the ride here. They’re really nice.” Mark lifted the one in his hand. Johnny let his mouth hang, looking at Mark mockingly, “Did you want one?” Mark laughed.

“I can’t believe you forgot about me, Dude. I thought we were friends.” Johnny huffed and Mark nudged his shoulder.

“The shop is right there. Come on we can get you one.” Mark giggled at the end of the sentence, laughing at Johnny’s ridiculous indignation. On her part, she watched the exchange, thoroughly amused. The Johnny that stood in front of her right now was so different from the one she had, however briefly, encountered so far.

“You have to buy it for me.” Johnny crossed his arms in front of him and huffed. 

Mark nodded with another giggle, pushing him towards the shop. “You’re embarrassing yourself in front of (Y/N), you big dork!” 

Johnny didn’t deter, turning to her with his grin, “We’re fine with a little embarrassment between us aren’t we, (Y/N)?” He winked, laughing when she gave him a flustered nod.

That was the first time her name rolled off his tongue and for a moment that was all she could think about. 

Johnny entered a few more shops, each time playfully asking Mark if he would buy him what he wanted this time. Each time he ended up paying for it himself. What an odd guy, she thought. She realised that maybe, Johnny just liked to tease people. He sure did enjoy flustering her quite a bit. 

(Y/N) toyed with the carving of a frog. The green of the lacquer used on the bronze sculpture was so beautiful that she enjoyed looking at it for a moment.

“Do you like it?” Johnny’s voice softly brushed against her ear. She hummed in response, failing to notice the way his eyes lit up, “Well, you aren’t jumping in my presence anymore. I consider that progress.” 

She chuckled at the words, looking up at him and shrugging. “I guess you aren’t a hairy witch after all.” Amusement glinted in his eyes, mirroring the glint in hers.

“I told you. I’m a decently groomed man.” He huffed. At his words, her eyes glanced over to his arms, looking over the contours and noting the slightest glint of perspiration from the humidity. Before she could give it a thought, she swallowed; her eyes travelling up to his clavicle till it came back to his face. In response, Johnny licked his lips and for a moment she was sure she felt it in the pit of her stomach. Her lips parted, taking in a breath that betrayed her by shaking. The space between them was suddenly too close and not close enough. The fact that they were inside a shop that overlooked the street was tucked in the corner of her mind for a second.

“(Y/N).” His voice was a respectable inch short of an outright growl. He took the smallest step closer and his shadow completely covered her, he looked down at her with a gleam in his eyes that looked so irresistibly cautious— making her want to know what exactly he was holding back.

“Johnny?” She was almost impressed by how level her voice sounded. How she managed to sound so confident under the gaze he was giving her was not something she could ponder over in the moment without losing that small thread of confidence entirely. 

This time he took in an inhale, a shallow and choked one much to her satisfaction. At least they stood on equal ground now, the idea only made her yearn to have the upper hand. She stood in place like her feet were embedded into the slate floor, willing him silently to take just a few more steps.

“Guys we’re late!” Mark shrieked.

She saw the smallest flash of annoyance in Johnny’s eyes before he took a deep breath, combing his fingers through his hair.

“Did you get anything?” Johnny turned to Mark, no hint of what she witnessed moments before in his voice. She swallowed, realising that it only made her find him more attractive.

Mark nodded to Johnny in response to his question, holding up the bag in his hand as proof.

“Alright, head out then. I’ll just pay for the things I want and catch up.” He gave them both a smile.

Johnny caught up with them soon enough, coming to stand beside (Y/N) so she stood between him and Mark. He smiled as he looked up at the sky, their collective shopping bags rustling as they walked towards the restaurant they were meant to be at a while back.

“It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Johnny sighed as he looked up at the sky. She followed his gaze. 

He was right, it was a beautiful day. The sky was a saturated blue, with thick white clouds that moved against it leisurely. The sun was warm on her face but the cool marine breeze soothed it’s tinge. It was a perfect day. One she tried to focus on even as Johnny’s eyes fell on her face and she tried to act like she didn’t notice.

“So what do you do, Mark?” She turned away from the sky and Johnny’s gaze.

“I work in publishing.”

“Oh so you live in New York too?” The thought made her smile.

Mark turned to her, eyes lost, before something clicked into place. “Oh that’s right! You live in New York!” Mark laughed and Johnny laughed behind her, at what she assumed was Mark’s excitement. “We should totally meet sometime.” He paused to take a quick breath, “And I’m not just saying that, okay? It’s hard to make friends in such a big city. I mean, I’m from Canada!” He added like it was an adequate explanation.

“Yeah, if they don’t smile and someone once a day, they get kidnapped in the night by a moose.” Johnny leaned in close to inform her, making her snort at the image.

“And you can’t tell me you’re busy like him.” Mark pointed an accusatory finger at Johnny, making him put a hand on his chest in mock affront. “He tells me he has so much work that he doesn’t have time to eat, and then we end up drinking at his apartment.” Another thought made his eyes widen further than she even thought possible. Mark clapped his hands together, “You should join us. We’re fun, aren’t we Johnny?” He asked Johnny eagerly.

“Come now, (Y/N) doesn’t need to witness the intoxicated recitations of your poetry.” Johnny said, his words making Mark’s face go red.

Before she could answer Johnny tugged at the bags in her hands, “Do you want me to carry those?” He asked casually.

“No, I’m fine.” She responded politely.

“They seem heavy.” He looked down, “Plus they keep hitting your knee.” He squinted at the realisation, no doubt finding it odd.

(Y/N) laughed, “That’s because I’m short, not much space between the arms and knees.” She lifted the bags for emphasis. Whatever thought passed Johnny’s mind, he kept it to himself, swallowing his smirk and nodding.

“I’m just saying, it’s not that big a deal to let me carry it.” He shrugged.

“You have your own bags. Otherwise I just might have taken up on your offer.” She chuckled, readjusting her grip on the bags. He looked down at the motion. “Plus,” She added before he insisted again, “We’re already here.” She looked ahead, making him follow her eyes. He smiled when he saw Doyoung waving at them from an open terrace above.

“Where were you? I thought Mark got you lost or something.” Doyoung asked as they approached the table.

“Excuse me? Is this how little you think of me? (Y/N) and I went to get something we both wanted and then Johnny Suh appeared out of thin air with a desire for retail therapy.” Mark pointed his head to the stuff in Johnny’s hands. Doyoung’s other friends cheered when they noticed Johnny— an odd gesture but nonetheless she had come to understand that Doyoung’s friends were a loud bunch.

“I guess you took my advice after all,” Yuta turned in his chair towards Johnny.

“What advice?” Doyoung asked.

“To enjoy his goddamn vacation.” Yuta chuckled when the table laughed.

“You know, that’s exactly what I told (Y/N).” Sooyoung spoke into her water glass, taking a sip when (Y/N) turned to glare at her.

“We do have two busy bodies amongst us don’t we.” Doyoung spoke while nibbling the stem of his sunglasses, looking at the both of them.

“Who here isn’t busy.” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Yeah but you both like it.” Sooyoung shuddered at the thought.

“That’s why (Y/N) was scared out of wits that night?” Jungwoo hid his smile behind his palm.

“She saw her own reflection?” Yeri added, making Jungwoo laugh in agreement as they both high-fived.

“Nevermind this.” Taeyong spoke up, “Stop ganging up on our friends. You haven’t even let them sit down.” He chastised.

“Here.” Jungwoo raised his hand, “We saved you seats.” He pointed at the empty chairs beside him.

Before (Y/N) reached her chair, Johnny pulled it out for her. She raised a brow at him but he just gave her a light hearted smile, one she felt compelled to return. Across the table, Sooyoung raised her brow at Doyoung, both of them watching the interaction before looking towards each other, a silent communication passing between them.

“Did you really buy matching bowls with the Mark Lee fellow?” Jungwoo leaned towards (Y/N) and asked after a moment, jutting his chin towards Mark as he sat down opposite them.

She turned to him, not answering him. Just staring till he got unnerved.

“Just remember that we’re best friends! Just because he lives in the same city as you doesn’t mean I can be replaced.” Jungwoo huffed, taking a sip of his juice.

“Right now I’m dangerously close to considering it.” She shrugged, holding back a smile when he slid his juice towards her.

“It’s pineapple. I know you like it.” He nudged it again. 

She pushed it back towards him, “The waiter will show up, I can just order one for myself.” She gave him a close mouthed smile.

“Look, (Y/N)!” Jungwoo jabbed a finger at her arm, making her wince, “He said he wants watermelon juice.” He can’t possibly be your best friend.” Jungwoo scoffed, blowing air from between his lips rather dramatically.

(Y/N) laughed this time, “What are you even talking about?” She laughed again. “I love watermelons.” She ruffled Jungwoo’s hair. “And for the record, all of you are my best friends. But if we were keeping score, Sooyoung is the closest to the title.” She laughed again.

“That’s right.” Sooyoung spoke across the table, making Jungwoo turn to her to find her narrowing her gaze at him.

“Shit I was loud again, wasn’t I?” Jungwoo bit his tongue visibly and she laughed again, both amused and done with his antics.

“What about me?” Wendy asked (Y/N) with indignation.

Sooyoung scoffed,“Please, we all know you and Seulgi are stuck by the hip. Don’t try to take her away from me.” She turned to her. Beside Wendy, Seulgi nodded in admittance.

“I love watermelons.” Mark said softly, giving Jungwoo a soft look, “But I like pineapples too.” He said hopefully. Jungwoo looked up, a smile forming on his lips. He pointed at him with a pleased smile.

“We can get along.” He announced, making Mark’s face brighten up.

(Y/N) laughed, turning to Johnny to find him watching her. The smile he had was a new one. She rested her chin on her shoulder, squinting at him.

“What?” She chuckled when he didn’t look away. Johnny just shook his head, resting his cheek in his palm, keeping his eyes on her.

“So.” Seulgi started, “What do you do, Johnny?” She toyed with a piece of tissue, her gaze on him. He peeled his gaze away from (Y/N) with leisure, sitting up straight when he faced Seulgi.

“I’m an investment banker.” He shrugged, not holding her eye contact.

“That explains the watch.” Yeri murmured, making (Y/N) and Sooyoung turn to her with horror. Wendy nodded in agreement with Yeri. “What?” She said defensively when she noticed the glares, “You told me that the best way to judge a man was his watch.” She pointed at (Y/N), making her put her hand on her temple.

“Yeri!” Joohyun coaxed her with her eyes to stop talking, but it was too late. (Y/N) just stayed in her position, turning to give Johnny a nervous laugh.

“She’s right.” Johnny shrugged, “Shoes too.” He nodded in agreement.

“That’s exactly what she said!” Yeri spoke up in excitement.

“Fuck me.”(Y/N) groaned, the embarrassment just piling on.

“Here?” Johnny clicked his tongue, catching her off guard. Before she could process, he moved on. “You’ve got taste, (Y/N). I didn’t know you liked watches.” He flicked his wrist and raised the dial. “What do you think about this one?” He asked curiously. 

She looked at the Piguet on his wrist, giving him an appreciative nod, “I like it better than what you wore yesterday. Though that’s just personal preference.” She added tapping her own wrist, Johnny’s eyes going to the watch, the same maker as his. Johnny smiled, pleased with that, it gave her the confidence to ask her next question, “What is your favourite?”

“It’s a Vacheron I got myself after an important IPO.” He said, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“So you’re basically a collector.” She gave him her own pleased smile.

“Is that good?” He asked.

“It’s better than buying one just because it’s the most expensive.” She shrugged.

“Can we order food?” Haechan’s voice snapped, both their gaze fluttering away towards him, “I’m very happy for you Johnny but it’s one in the afternoon and I haven’t eaten breakfast.” Haechan groaned.

On the way back, (Y/N) watched the scenery pass by outside the window. She tried to stay still as Joohyun slept on her shoulder, and Yeri on hers. Sooyoung turned back from one of the front seats, waving to get her attention. (Y/N) raised both her brows at her when she acquired it.

“You aren’t allowed to skip dinner tonight. If any of your clients have something to say, tell them that the glass ceiling is bad enough without them encroaching on your free time.” She warned in earnest. (Y/N)’s eyes danced with mirth as she nodded at her.

“I’m going to go back and go to the gym for a bit, okay?” She bit her lip. “Then I’m going to be at dinner.” Her eyes edged to the back of Johnny’s head that peaked from on top of his seat. She wondered if he was asleep, whether he heard her words. Sooyoung gave her a thumbs up before turning back to Doyoung to say something, letting (Y/N) settle back into her view watching.

(Y/N) took a deep breath as she lifted herself off the floor, music blaring in her ears to distract her from the burn in her muscles. She relished in the way her lungs burned, her mind clearing up in the way it did when she focused on physical activity. 

She thought about Johnny, failing to ignore the way her insides clenched at the idea. There was nothing wrong with flirting with an attractive man, she reassured herself. Yet, a better part of her knew that she was messing with a person. She fell back on the floor with a huff, breathing rapidly as her lungs adjusted to the rest. She chastised herself again, he was also Doyoung’s friend. 

She took another shallow breath. She tried not to entertain the idea of something more than casual flirting. He was clearly also preoccupied with his job, there would be no need for her to even consider more. A better person would just cut it out, spare the man the means to an end.

She felt the reverberations of footsteps on the wooden floor, lifting her head to see Johnny walk into the gym. She rested her head back on the floor to stare at the ceiling lights, a smile playing at the edge of her lips— so he was awake in the van after all.

He came and stood above her as her slowly steadying breath picked up again. He was so incredibly attractive that it was hard to be a better person. He parted his lips, saying something she couldn’t hear over her music. She lifted a finger at him, taking a bud out of her ear.

“Yes?” She asked, Johnny bit back a smile.

“Need help?” He raised a brow. She bit her lip and his eyes drifted down to them.

She could try to be a better person when she was back home.

“Do I look like I need help?” She feigned confusion. Johnny crossed his arms in front of his chest, she took note of the black sleeveless shirt that hung from his shoulders.

“No.” He paused, his frame still silhouetted under the lights, and she sat up on the mat to get a better look at him. “But I’d like to anyway.” He grinned when she nodded. 

He sat down at her feet, putting his arms around her shin. She was grateful for her already shallow breath and flushed face in the moment. She put her palms flat on the floor behind her, watching him for a moment, enjoying the sight of him with his arms around her legs and staring up at her. Her breath quickened a little, lips parting to take in a breath. On his part, he looked like he was enjoying her attention; no visible effects of anything on his face.

“Well?” He raised a brow at her. 

Bastard, she thought with a smirk, lying back down to continue her crunches.

“So,” Johnny spoke up as she got a few crunches in, “What do you do for fun?” He asked in a conversational tone.

“I have a personal goal of finding the best restaurants in New York,” She sat up, meeting his eyes, “Categorised according to cuisines of course.”

“That’s an interesting hobby.” He grinned, she shrugged at him, trying to think of other things one would consider a hobby.

“I cook sometimes," She added, "Trying to become really good at it actually.” She huffed as she fell back. 

Johnny hummed, “As someone who is a terrible cook, how does one get better?” He questioned when her eyes lifted to meet his gaze.

“You make something.” He laughed at the simple answer as she fell back, “And then when you fuck up, you consider all the things that possibly went wrong.” Their eyes met again.

“Is everything a competition to you?” There was no judgement in his eyes, only curiosity. 

She stopped to laugh, “When you put it like that,” She chuckled again, thinking over his statement. “I think I just like to do whatever I do, thoroughly.” She seemed satisfied by that self-assessment. “I’m not good at a whole lot of things. But the ones I do, I want to do as well as I’m capable of doing.” She added, an odd smile lifting her lips. That was the first time she truly verbalised that about herself.

“So you’re a perfectionist?” He asked, (Y/N) scoffed at the simplification, going back to her crunches.

“Perfection is a myth.” She sat back up, “I don’t strive for unattainable things.” 

Johnny’s arms tightened around her calves, stuttering her movements.

“Interesting.” He mumbled.

She laughed, “What is?” Her head lifted from the floor.

“You are.” He smiled as their eyes met, “And what do you do for a profession?” He moved on from his previous line of thought too quickly.

“I work in grassroots organisation. Policy.” She was going back down but paused when he made a face.

“So you’re a lobbyist?” He squinted with humour. 

She shoved his shoulder with a laugh, “You’re an investment banker!” He grinned at that, “What right do you have to judge me?” They laughed together. He let her legs go and she crossed them to mirror his position.

“Nothing, I guess there’s just implicit bias when that word is involved.” Johnny shrugged, laughing again as he ran his fingers through his hair, the dark strands falling on his forehead. She hummed skeptically at his words.

“My boss works for a Women’s organisation. I lobby for equal rights.” He nodded at her skeptically and she rolled her eyes, “Someone has to do it you know? Otherwise it’s just the oil and gun lobby running around.” He considered her words.

“So you’re an equalizing force?” He asked and she snorted.

“I wouldn’t give myself that much credit, but on the organisational level yeah, I guess.” She affirmed.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate, “I’m passionate about it. And it matters to me.” She searched his eyes for some giveaway, he gave her a smile.

“I can understand why you work hard then.”

“What about you? What makes you get out of bed?”

“I’m passionate about making money.” He grinned, laughing when she laughed out at his confession. “Not as noble as you though, I suppose. He shrugged.

“Hey!” She shoved his shoulder again, “Nothing wrong with liking money. Money can’t buy you happiness but it sure makes misery comfortable.” She scoffed, making him laugh.

“I guess I just like living a comfortable life. I like nice things: good wine, a nice view from my bedroom window,” He paused to lick his lips. “Beautiful women.” His eyes bored into hers with the last words and she hoped her blush wasn’t too dreadfully obvious.

“Nothing wrong with that.” Her voice was more afflicted than she would like. 

Johnny let out a strained laugh, “I didn’t think I would be as relieved as I feel to hear someone say that.” He pushed back his hair again, his eyes fluttering away from hers.

“Everybody wants to be comfortable.” Her brows creased, not understanding his frustration. “And if you work as hard as I assume you do. You have the right to do whatever you want.” She added, trying to get across that she understood.

“You don’t think it’s shallow?” There was an odd vulnerability in his eyes that passed too soon.

“No.” Her brows creased, “I think it’s admirable.” 

Johnny scoffed like he didn’t believe her.

“I’m serious.” She laughed, hitting his shoulder again. This time his eyes followed the movement. “You know exactly what you want out of life. How many of us can say that?” He looked up at her when she said that, the look in his eyes he had at the restaurant in the morning, the one she couldn’t yet decipher.

“I never thought about it like that. Though it’s not entirely true.” He added. When she parted her lips to ask him to elaborate, he sat back, “We’ll be late for the dinner, (Y/N).” He pointed at the clock on the wall. She nodded at him, deciding not to push.

Johnny stood up, giving her a hand. She snorted but took it, unprepared for the way he pulled her up, steadying her balance with a hand on her waist. There was a respectable distance between them, one that she silently felt disappointed about. He seemed to enjoy lowering his gaze to meet hers though, his eyes glinting. She lifted her arm to push him away playfully, but he grabbed it when it met his shoulder.

“You aren’t that strong, you know? You keep doing that like you know I’ll give in and move to humour you.” His voice dropped to a sinful octave.

“I didn’t realise you were humouring me. Should I use more strength?” Her words were brazen despite her weak tone.

“Try.” He dared her. She bit her lip, her bluff caught too quick. 

She had no chance to overpower the man in front of her. Still pride was a compelling motivator and she tried her best. Pushing his chest with a little more force than she hoped. He didn’t budge, moving closer to her to rub it in.

“Do it again.” He commanded. A ragged exhale left her. She added more force, he put his hand over hers, coming even closer and holding her palm on his chest.

“Johnny.” The way the word came out as a whine made her bite down on her tongue. She felt the vibration of the groan that left his throat before she heard it. She wanted to hear it again.

He leaned down closer to her face, lips brushing against her forehead. “The things I want to do to you.” He moved again, his lips brushed her temples. “Slow and agonizing.” His lips moved against her skin. If he wasn’t holding her so securely, her legs would have given out. She took in another breath, silently willing him to just kiss her. She wanted to grab him and do it herself, but she wanted him to give in first.

“Tell me.” She said instead, more to distract herself. His fingers squeezed her palm on his chest, his hand engulfing it to the extent that it wasn't visible. 

His lips brushed against her eyes. “Oh you are terrible.” He groaned again, “Winding me up like there aren’t going to be any consequences.” She heard herself sigh, so aroused that it felt insane to think that he hadn’t done anything but speak. 

When he let her waist go, the whine that left her lips was more lewd than she thought she was capable of making. He looked down at her like she had slapped him. Yet, she was the one who felt absolutely knocked out within an inch of her life.

“You.” His voice came out breathy and strained. He paused, a distressed laugh escaping his lips. He ran his fingers through his hair again, she resisted the urge to do it for him. “We’re late.” His voice was low, reprimanding her. It made her toes curl.

“Okay.” She said, her eyes focused despite the squeak of her voice.

(Y/N) stood under the freezing water of her shower, her skin too hot and her mind too clouded. All she could imagine was his eyes, his fingers wrapped around her hands; his large hands, his long fingers. She took a deep breath, focusing the sensation of the water running down her body instead. Her mind betrayed her again, drifting to imagine what his hands would feel like on her body, around her throat. She clenched her thighs so tight that the muscles protested. She thought about his voice, the gentle but firm authority with which he scolded her. 

She squeezed her eyes tight, suddenly very annoyed that she didn’t have enough time to get off. Though, a part of her guessed that maybe for the first time in years, that wouldn’t feel enough. She felt like a teenager.

“This is what happens when you don’t get laid for too long.” She mumbled.

(Y/N) stood in front of her suitcase for so long that Joohyun had started giving her glances. She stared at the dress tucked into the corner of her suitcase. She was supposed to wear it for the rehearsal dinner, she had planned her outfits according to the events. The black dress she had decided for tonight lay on top of all her other clothes, but her eyes remained fixed on the other one.

Eventually, Joohyun came and stood beside her, peering into the suitcase to find whatever her friend was glaring at.

“Which one do you want to wear?” She asked her. (Y/N) pointed at the dress in question, letting out a huff.

“Just wear it then!” She knocked her shoulder against hers, “They’re all nice dresses. You can wear the one you wanted to wear tonight on the day you were planning to wear the other one. That way your stupid schedule isn’t too shaken up.” Joohyun sighed.

(Y/N) turned to her with a serious gaze, “You know me too well. It’s a little concerning.” She stated. Joohyun just hummed, tired of this conversation already.

“Can you please get ready? You already came back late!” She grumbled, pulling out the dress and putting it in her arms before pushing her towards the bathroom.

There was a knock on the room’s door, making both Joohyun and (Y/N) turn. Joohyun got up and walked over to it.

“Who is it?” She asked.

“Is (Y/N) ready?” Jungwoo knocked again, making them both roll their eyes.

Joohyun opened the door, “Yeah. Why?” She asked with a sigh. Jungwoo peeked from behind her to look at her before turning back to Joohyun as they both came back towards the room.

“Would you call her dress red or more of a maroon?” He pointed at (Y/N) with scrutiny. Joohyun turned to assess it herself.

“I think it’s more of a purple?” She said, unsure. 

Jungwoo huffed at her, “Bae Joohyun, where are you glasses? That is not purple!” He sounded exasperated.

“I’m literally standing right here.” (Y/N) put her hands on her hips.

Jungwoo hummed, “Well?” He questioned her impatiently, “Which is it then?”

“Why?” She shot back.

“I’m learning colour theory.” He didn’t flinch.

“Red.” She sighed, not having the patience for Jungwoo’s eccentricities at the moment. He hummed again, lifting up his phone to type something as he left.

Both of them watched him walk out the room, closing the door behind him, “Why is he so weird?” Joohyun mumbled.

“If you find out, let me know.”

“My god.” Wendy whistled as (Y/N) and Joohyun left the room, “Look at you!” She said, glancing up and down (Y/N)’s body.

She looked down, a little embarrassed, “What?” She chuckled.

“You look like a fever dream. I’m almost feeling protective thinking about how many people are going to be eyeing you up tonight.” Wendy laughed.

(Y/N) smiled at her gratefully, “We all look great. Don’t single me out like this.” Her face felt a little hot.

“Yeah, Wendy.” Joohyun giggled, “You’re making (Y/N) shy.” She winked at her.

“You have no right to be shy in that!” Wendy gestured up and down her frame, “Act like the absolute vixen you look.” She nodded in appreciation.

“Can we stop this?” She groaned, “Where are the rest?” She changed the topic.

“Downstairs already. I can never decide what to wear so I was delayed.” She shrugged, threading her arm through both Joohyun and (Y/N)’s, “It paid off though, I’m about to walk into the room with two hot women and be the envy of the ball.” She sighed dramatically.

“Are you drunk already?” Joohyun asked, making (Y/N) snort.

(Y/N) was walking around in search of Jungwoo when she bumped in Mark quite literally.

“Oh.” He jumped back before looking back up at her, “Oh hey it is red.” Mark smiled looking at her dress. Straightened up a second too late, “I mean, nice dress (Y/N).” He laughed nervously.

“Thanks Mark.” She furrowed her brows but he was already waddling away.

The next unexplainable encounter she had was when Haechan walked up to her, “You look very nice, (Y/N).” He smiled at her brightly, “Sorry, I haven’t really had the chance to introduce myself to you properly so I wanted to do that.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I’m guilty of that.” She laughed, “I’m terrible with meeting new people.” She shrugged guiltily.

“You know.” He bought his glass up to his face, tapping his chin with his index finger, “I would have never guessed that.” He chuckled to himself.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“Ignore him.” A voice breathed close to her ear, catching her off-guard and making her jump. Johnny came and stood beside her, "I really did start to miss that." He smirked, implying her surprise.

"And why exactly do I deserve to be ignored?" Haechan crossed his arms in front of his chest. Johnny's reply was a noncommittal shrug.

“Do you want something to drink?” Johnny looked to her, his wandering eyes making blood pool into her cheeks. She looked away from his eyes, noticing his tie— red like her dress.

Haechan scoffed, “What are you doing to your voice, dude?” His voice an inch short of an outright laugh. “You sound like you swallowed something wrong.” This time he laughed. (Y/N) curled her lips in to stop her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Johnny coughed, giving him a pointed look.

“Please.” Haechan snorted, turning to (Y/N), “I’ve sat beside him while we watched Lion King and he cried till his nose was double, and his eyes half its size. Don’t fall for this nonsense.” He snorted again.

Johnny gave Haechan a tight smile, standing beside him and putting an arm around his shoulder, “Isn’t he adorable?” He told her. Haechan gasped, hitting Johnny’s arm but she could see it flex, tightening around the younger boy’s neck.

“Okay, okay.” Haechan’s voice came out strained, “You’ve made your point.” He tapped on his arm twice and Johnny let go. “Nice tie.” He pointed at it, walking away before Johnny could grab him again.

There was a moment’s silence. (Y/N) watched Johnny’s face turn red as his eyes looked to each side. It gave her more pleasure than she would have initially estimated to watch Johnny get flustered. She made a mental note to thank Haechan for it at some point. He opened his mouth before closing it, before opening it again.

“Everybody cries during Lion King.” She put him out of his misery. The laugh that left his lips was an embarrassed one. With intimate glee she realised that she finally had the smallest upper hand. “Nice tie.” She pointed at it, letting her smile bloom this time.

Johnny hummed, “It matches your dress.” He said like he just noticed.

“It does.” Her lips twitched, “Almost like it was planned.” She speculated. 

Johnny’s eyes widened the slightest bit before he sighed, “I should have known. Subtlety isn’t Mark’s language.” He ran his fingers through the tie.

“If it helps,” She leaned towards him, “It’s not one of Jungwoo’s linguistic abilities either.” Johnny laughed out loud at that, the sound rich and deep. His laugh was an unique one, each sound disjointed in a way that would sound a little sarcastic if it didn’t accompany the way his eyes upturned and his cheeks stretched up. It made her smile.

“How about that drink then?” She questioned and he nodded, his usual smirk back on his lips.

Sooyoung stood beside a table of snacks, with her eyes on (Y/N) and Johnny. She skewered a piece of potato on her plate without looking at it, not noticing Doyoung and Haechan walking towards her.

“Your wife is intimidating.” Haechan pointed out, earning a glare from Doyoung.

“What are you looking at?” Doyoung asked, following her gaze to find it’s source. (Y/N) looked like he laughed at something Johnny said as they both sat down on two chairs tucked away in a corner.

“Johnny’s tie matches (Y/N)’s dress.” She put the potato into her mouth, pulling it from the skewer with her teeth slowly. Haechan visibly shivered.

“It was Johnny’s brilliant idea, he even put Mark up to finding out what she was wearing. I don’t know how Mark Lee, of all people, managed to find out. But it worked.” Haechan shrugged.

“Isn’t that a little too much?” Doyoung winced.

Haechan scoffed, “You know he’s a romantic at heart, always making gestures. Plus,” Haechan sniggered, “That isn’t even the worst part.” He put his hand beside his mouth like he was ready to spill some gossip.

Sooyoung snapped her neck towards him, making Haechan’s eyes go wide. “Continue.” She all but demanded.

“Umm,” Sooyoung’s gaze made him nervous, “He’s trying to act all cool and badass.” Haechan clapped his hands laughing with a shrill delight as he recalled it, “Raising his eyebrows all broody.” He tried to imitate, wiggling his eyebrows and puckering his lips. Doyoung snorted, thinking about his friend— he was nothing if not thorough.

Sooyoung turned to frown at Doyoung, “If your friend hurts (Y/N) I’m going to chop those long limbs off him.” She narrowed her eyes, “You can imagine what I will do to you.” She skewered another potato and brought it to her lips. Both Haechan and Doyoung gulped.

“He isn’t like that, Sooyoung.” Doyoung pouted, “Johnny’s the most sentimental one out of all of us, he just looks all big and bad.” He reassured her. “Just ask Mark.” He grabbed the boy as he passed by, putting him between him and his fiance as a makeshift shield.

“Ask me what?” He squinted, before he noticed Sooyoung’s intimidating gaze. He tried to pry out of Doyoung’s hold but he held him in a death grip.

“Tell Sooyoung about how you and Johnny drink together and cry about your mutual lack of romance.” Doyoung nudged.

Mark’s face turned red, “Hey, that was a secret.” He whined, going still when Sooyoung came closer, pointing her skewer at him.

“What are Johnny’s intentions with (Y/N)?” She narrowed her eyes at him, Mark swallowed.

“He likes her. He, like, really likes her.” Mark lowered his voice. “He made me find out what colour her dress was to match his tie. That’s too cheesy even for Johnny.” Mark cringed. “I mean he promised to get me the Xbox if I did, so I did it anyway.” Mark smiled as he thought about that, “Pretty sweet.” He looked pleased, shaking his head when Sooyoung glared at him.

“He’s not a bad guy, Sooyoung.” Mark said, “He’s the ‘settle down with two kids’ kind of guy.” He smiled before quickly adding, “That doesn’t mean he’s going to do that already. Johnny’s quiet guarded about most things. He’s mostly resigned to his overloaded lifestyle and only talks about these things when he’s really really drunk. He won’t overwhelm (Y/N), he’s very understanding.” Mark blurted out his monologue, pausing when he realised that his need to defend his best friend made him say too much.

“Sooyoung.” Doyoung sighed, coming out from behind Mark and taking her hand in his, “You’re the one who was trying to set them up,” He sighed, “Of course I noticed.” He added when she tried to speak up.

Sooyoung chewed on her lip for a second before sighing. “Look at her, Doyoung.” Sooyoung turned to look at them across the room, still talking to each other in their corner. “(Y/N) isn’t the casual type. She hasn’t even dated anyone since the first year of university! I thought I would encourage her so she’d ease into the idea again. I know she’s a workaholic, so I thought she’d find something in common with Johnny.” Sooyoung sighed, her eyes filled with familial concern, “But look at her!” She pointed, “She looks infatuated.” As if on cue, (Y/N) laughed at something Johnny said. She hit his shoulder playfully, looking away when Johnny’s face turned to her hand, her lips tugging with a smile.

“They look like they’re getting comfortable to the idea of each other.” Doyoung smiled, so did Sooyoung.

“Do we have anything planned for tomorrow?” She turned to Doyoung.

“Not particularly. We have to go pick up our parents at the airport and meet the hotel chef to finalise our menu.” He waited for her to tell him what she was thinking. 

Sooyoung frowned. 

“Why?” Doyoung furrowed his brows.

“I thought we could bring them with us somewhere. So they could get to know each other.” She chewed on her lip, turning her frown to the boys when they all simultaneously laughed.

“I can assure you,” Doyoung pinched Sooyoung’s cheeks, “You don’t have to help Johnny with that.”

Jungwoo and Seulgi caught sight of the circle, intently discussing something. Jungwoo marched straight towards them, Seulgi following behind him.

“What are we talking about?” Jungwoo asked, making Mark squeal.

“Nothing.” Sooyoung said.

“Setting up Johnny and (Y/N) up.” Mark said at the same time.

“Pimping our friends out.” Haechan said too, making everyone give him a disgusted face. “What? It’s the same thing.” He scoffed.

At some point, the both of them had started walking, somehow ending up outside the ballroom. The warm sea breeze balmy against her skin. Johnny was telling her about his top three favourite wines and the merits of each and they compared their preferences.

"Don't get me wrong." She explained, "A Bordeaux is in no way a bad wine."

"But?" Johnny nudged her.

"But." She shrugged, "Don't you think it's too sour? Considering that it's meant to be one of, if not the, best wine."

"That just means you had a set of heavy expectations when you met your first bottle." Johnny pointed out, "And then left disappointed when it didn't meet them all." He shrugged. "It's a fine wine." He chuckled.

"For 900 dollars a bottle, you'd think all expectations would be met and surpassed. Why else would you buy it?" She wiggled her brows at him.

"Because you can." He stated simply, "It's just one of those things that doesn't really make sense." He grinned at her skeptical expression.

"Think about it this way," He continued. "It's an industry, it employs people and as far as the process goes, it's mostly human operated. So if you can afford to buy one without making a dent in your financial situation." He shrugged again like he made his point. "Everything has a market."

"Spoken like a true Wall Street man." She joked, "It's a unique perspective, I'll give you that. Spending is important for economies."

"Exactly!" He grinned, pleased to communicate his point. "I still think we must give to charity. But doing things like paying a respectable wage and utilising resources that employ other people is also an important part of fiscal responsibility."

"You're right." Her eyes lit up as she thought about that.

"My favourite words to hear." He grinned, earning a nudge to his shoulder instinctually before she could stop herself. He let himself be shoved, giving her a meaningful smile.

"I don't understand you." (Y/N) blamed the three glasses of alcohol currently churning in her belly for making her blurt that question out. Johnny gave her a quizzical smile. "On one hand you're a tease." She bit her lip, not sure she formed that sentence the way she had intended when she went over it in her head. Yet, she continued, "On the other you try to match outfits." She bit back a smile at the thought.

"Was it a bit too much?" Johnny winced, halting his steps to turn to her. 

"No." She added too quickly, "It's very sweet. I'm not saying I mind any of this." She paused, knowing that she had a point to this. "I'm just trying to figure you out." She remembered.

"I like making gestures." Johnny shrugged. He ran his fingers through his tie with a smile, "This was a gesture."

"Of what?" Again she blamed the alcohol for the sudden courage.

He looked up at her eyes, his smile replaced by an intense stare. "Do you prefer to be alone because it's too tedious with work?" She felt taken aback by the sudden question.

She realised that they were in one of the manicured gardens scattered across the property, surrounded by dense tropical shrubs and the gentle fragrance of orchids in bloom. She could hear the waves crashing against the beach nearby, her hair brushing against her clavicle in the breeze.

"I guess." She said, unsure of where the conversation was going. "I mean, I don't expect someone to wait for me to text them back because I opened it and then got a call from my boss which made me forget. I also don't expect someone to be okay with me cancelling dates because something came up. I just don't think it's fair." She paused, trying to find the right words. "Plus, you can't really build a meaningful relationship like that, can you?" She gave him a weak smile, certain now that this conversation was an end before anything ever had the chance to bloom.

"So what do you do?" He turned to face her, his eyes burning into her. The gas lamp behind them illuminated his features, she traced them with her eyes. When she felt satisfied that she would remember it she looked down at her palm.

"You choose between the two." She smiled sadly at her hands, "At this point in my life, I would choose my career over a relationship. Will I change my mind later? Maybe." She took a deep breath, a slow vulnerability seeping into her, "Will it be too late when I do? Who knows." She took another steady breath, looking up at him. "But I've worked too hard to get where I am, either way I won't regret it." She wondered if he had his answer.

"Would you choose to be with someone who also doesn't have the time, but wants to try and see if he can have both?" One corner of his lips lifted. 

She stared at him for a second, not expecting that at all. She was ready for him to accept whatever could have been between them as a dead-end and she would agree with him and go their own ways. She prepared herself for that inevitability, coaxing her disappointment with rationale. Instead he said something that she didn't dare to consider. When the shock of it subsided she thought about his words.

"You don't have to answer that now. In fact I would want you to take you time. I just hope we can be on the same page." He toyed with his fingers, biting his upper lip as he pondered over something.

"What does the page look like?" Her voice was small, afraid she might be letting hope pick up a message he wasn't giving.

He looked up at her, "I really like you, (Y/N)." The way he said it, like it was almost inevitable, made her heart flutter, "When we met on the yacht, even before that at breakfast.” He laughed to himself, “Before Jungwoo even had the chance to mention our previous encounter," He bit back a smile, "I thought you were attractive." He paused to sigh, combing his hand through his hair.

She wondered why he bothered styling it so well if he would just do that. She wondered how her fingers would feel in his hair, combing through it like that.

"And as I get to know you more." He paused, wincing like he was bracing himself. "I think you're a real catch. I think we understand each other." She saw the blood rush to his cheeks as he fluttered his gaze away. "I don't want to smother you with all this, though. All this is just a way to say that we have this week to learn about each other. Time is a luxury I hardly have." He paused again, looking back at her with a soft conviction in his eyes, "But I would give you whatever I can afford if it meant we could explore this beyond a 'what if'." His gaze was an affectionate one.

Her heart pounding so loud in her chest that her voice came out winded, "Okay." She said, "I want that too. Everything you just said." The sound of her blood rushing echoed in her ears.

Johnny gave her what she categorised as the most dazzling smile yet, one full of affection and warmth.

Day 4

“Guys.” Jungwoo spoke as all of them walked towards the restaurant for breakfast, “There’s something up with (Y/N).” He dipped his head to look at her face better. “She’s smiling to herself.” He gasped.

He earned the displeased frown she gave him. Wendy put her arm around her shoulder, shielding her from him.

“Leave (Y/N) alone. She hasn’t had her cup of coffee yet, she’ll smack you.” Wendy warned, making Seulgi snort.

“Ugh that reminds me.” Jungwoo groaned, “I have a hangover. (Y/N) I want a cup of whatever nightmare coffee you drink. I have a conference call to attend.” He made a face. She gave him a sympathetic nod. “Why do you look so tired though?” He questioned, “I would have assumed that you’d at least get sleep on holiday.” Jungwoo sighed.

“(Y/N) came back at 1 am last night.” Joohyun added with a secretive smile. (Y/N) turned to her with wide eyes, shushing her.

“Excuse me?” Yeri squealed, “Where were you?” She tried to be firm.

“I was just walking around the compound.” She murmured, trying to walk faster.

“Alone?” Seulgi grabbed her arm.

(Y/N) paused, not exactly ready to talk about this, but not comfortable lying either. “No.” She said slowly.

“We’re here.” Jungwoo pointed at the glass doors of the restaurant. “Come on (Y/N), you promised me a cup of hell coffee.” He nudged her forward. She couldn’t be sure, but she was thankful for his interruption anyway.

“Two espresso shots?” Jungwoo stared at the machine incredulously as she tapped it in.

“I thought you wanted a cup from hell?” She reminded him, “That’s half of what i’m getting for myself. She laughed at the look he gave her.

“You’re going to die young, (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” He shook his head, picking up his finished cup.

“Burn bright and fizzle quick, that’s always fun.” She replied wryly as he placed a cup for herself, earning a snort.

“So.” Jungwoo said as they waited, his face changing.

(Y/N) sighed, waiting for this for a while. “Later. Just give me some time to process things.” She promised and to her relief, he nodded.

“Not to press this topic.” Jungwoo said with a grin, “But Johnny is looking at you.” He glanced behind her.

“Oh.” She said, trying not to look too shy when she heard those words.

“And he’s coming here.” He added. “Thanks for the nightmare coffee.” He gave her a salute.

“Sounds delicious.” Johnny spoke behind her. He had a habit of doing that, she noted. Jungwoo scrunched his nose, shaking his head furiously.

“This is a necessity, I have work to do.” He added as he walked away.

“Hi.” Johnny said after he left.

“Hi yourself.” She lifted her cup from the machine, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

“A little birdie tells me that you are quite the connoisseur of coffee.” He leaned against the table after placing his cup under the machine’s sprout. Her eyes wandered down his legs, seemingly endless.

She looked up at him, ignoring the blush that rose up her neck when their eyes met. Johnny stood with his elbows propped on the table, clad in black sweatpants and a red t-shirt that clung to his shoulders in a way that forced her to remind herself that it was early in the morning. He looked so good that (Y/N) wanted to groan— no one should look that good at 8 am. 

“Which bird is it?” She asked. Johnny pointed his chin across the room. When she followed it, she found Yeri waving at them. Johnny waved back with a smile.

“I wouldn’t call myself a connoisseur.” She turned back to him.

“To be fair, no self respecting person would.” His words made her laugh.

“I do like the merits of variation in coffee depending on where it’s from though.” She admitted. Johnny’s coffee sat ready and he didn’t touch it.

“I hoped you’d say that.”

“Why?” She inquired.

Johnny slid his phone out of his pocket, tapping it open and standing up from his perch on the table. “You know the island is famous for its coffee beans right?” He came up beside her, showing her his screen. “There’s this roastery I wanted to visit but felt weird about travelling an hour just to go alone.” He looked at her hopefully.

“Yes.” She said, his eyes lighting up. 

“Great.” He smiled to himself, “We’ll leave after breakfast?” He asked and she nodded. “Good.” He sounded pleased.

Johnny was on his phone when she walked into the lobby. Shamelessly, she took the moment to appreciate his frame, slowing her steps. He wore a simple black button up with faded jeans, looking every bit worth her appreciation. At some point she would give herself the freedom to wonder just how this breathtaking specimen of a man was interested in her. At the moment, a smile grew on her lips when he looked up from his phone to catch her eyes. He leaned back on the sofa he was sitting on, putting his arm on it’s headrest and watching her walk up to him with an appreciative smile of his own.

“Like what you see?” She decided to tease him this time. 

His eyes sparked with delight at her words, “Absolutely.” His grin grew into a toothy smile. She blushed at his words.

“I took the liberty of asking for a car sans chauffeur. Don’t worry, I am allowed to drive here.” He added thoughtfully.

“I wasn’t.” Her laugh was breathy, “You travel a lot?” She asked.

He nodded, “Mostly for work, so it helps to have an international license.” He explained and she nodded back at him.

“Let’s go then shall we?”

(Y/N) wanted to appreciate the scenery, she really did. The highway they were on was sparse, only the occasional car whizzing by beside theirs. On either side of the road, the view went from dense trees, the sea, terraced paddy fields and even a volcano. She took all of it in with the sort of awe that only nature could give you. 

Johnny played the kind of music that sounded like it was made for a moment like this, it made her chest stir. But even though that, the larger part of her attention remained centered on the man beside her.

At some point, Yeri had firmly planted in her head that there was something inexplicably attractive about a man driving a car. Emphasizing that it was more so when he did that driving with one hand. Sitting here, she made a mental note to confess to Yeri one day that she finally got her point. She tried not to stare at him too long, trying to distract herself with the astonishing view outside the car rather than the stunning one inside it. She passed the ride in the same agonizing way, eventually falling into her own thoughts.

They walked into what the webpage had categorised as a cafe. Yet standing there, it looked like a fine dining restaurant. The interior was a rich cream beige, the gentle hum of music in the background. Tourists mostly occupied the seats, standing out because of their casual beach attire and sun burns. An entire wall made of glass overlooked a large outdoor seating area.

“Do you want to sit outside?” Johnny asked her. She nodded eagerly, catching a look of the sky that was slowly getting cloudy, making the outside look like something out of a dream.

Johnny placed his sunglasses on the table as the waiter approached their table, picking up the menu. “I personally prefer a modest black coffee.” He said like he already knew what we wanted.

“Me too.” Johnny’s lips bloomed into a smile at the answer.

The waiter scribbled into his notepad, “How would you like your coffee to be made?” He asked.

“French Press.” They answered in tandem, laughing at the coincidence.

“Anything to eat?” Johnny asked her.

“Whatever you like.” She shrugged, “We’ll see to what extent our tastes match.” She bit her cheek.

“Is this a test?” He raised a brow.

She clicked her tongue, “It’s an opportunity.” She corrected.

He licked his lips, “You’re slick with your words. I’ll keep that in mind.” Something dangerous sparked in his eyes, gone too soon as he turned back to the waiter, “We’ll get a cinnamon roll each for now, please.” He handed the menu with a polite smile.

“Do I pass?” He tilted his head, toying with his own fingers as he looked at her expectantly and earning her attention.

“I have exactly two sweet pastries I like.” She dragged her eyes away from his fingers before she got ahead of herself, “almond croissants,” She paused to chuckle, “And cinnamon rolls.”

“You don’t like cake?” He questioned.

“I don’t mind it. But I absolutely will not eat one with frosting on it.” She scrunched her nose before considering something, “Unless it’s cream cheese frosting.” She pondered that for a second, thinking about the last time she had it and then nodding to her own statement.

“Specific.” Johnny noted.

“I can be. Once I come to the conclusion that I like or dislike something, It’s usually hard to deter me.” She stated.

“I, myself, am open to all possibilities. But I’m someone who goes after something I want with a sort of reckless abandon.” His eyes sparked with meaning, boring into her.

“I see.” She shied away from his gaze.

“And you?” He kept the conversation rolling rather expertly.

“I’m usually over-cautious about everything I do.” She admitted sheepishly.

An airy laugh came from Johnny, “Seems like we have just enough differences to make this interesting.” His eyes crinkled in the corner. She liked the perspective.

The waiter came back with their order as she explained to Johnny how tedious policy could be. The waiter placed their pastries on the table, followed by two individual sized french presses and two digital timers. She was suddenly really grateful to have found this place.

“Enjoy your afternoon.” He said after and walked away.

(Y/N) picked up one of the timers, fiddling with it and then putting it down after an adjustment. Johnny gave her a quizzical look.

“What?” She laughed, “I don’t brew it for three minutes.” She shrugged.

“I brew it for four.” Johnny said like he absolutely understood where she was going with this, making her laugh again.

She pressed her knuckles on her cheeks, an unsuccessful attempt to curb the smile on her face. 

He was cute, she concluded. 

“I follow this very particular method, which as a whole is nine minutes.”

Johnny looked petrified at the notion, “Isn’t that too much? Your coffee must taste like coal.” He put his hand on his cheek, resting his elbow on the table and musing out loud.

“Don’t knock it till you try it. I swear by this brewing method.” She defended.

Johnny raised both his hands in surrender with a breathy chuckle, “I’m just teasing.”

“That is your favourite thing to do, I am starting to realise.” She scoffed.

“You have no idea, (Y/N).” He gave her a secretive smile that had no right to affect her the way it did. She just stared at him for a moment, wondering how they arrived here while talking about her very precise routines. 

She was thoroughly intrigued by the man who sat in front of her, she realised with a start. It was the most unlikely moment to come to that conclusion, but it sat in front of her as unapologetically as he did. It was mesmerizing in a way that would terrify her if she didn’t know his intentions already. 

If he thought she was a catch, she thought he was captivating. They both watched each other silently, and just for that moment she would give anything to know what he was thinking. 

The sound of their collective timers going off jolted them out of the moment.

“I thought you said nine.” Johnny teased and she gave him a pointed look. He picked up his press to push the grounds down; she opened hers and stirred it before closing it again, readjusting her timer. When she looked up, he was assessing the task.

“We’ll try each other’s and see which works better.” She poked her tongue out at him and he laughed.

“I guess you like a light roast if you keep it for that long.” Johnny deducted.

“Medium roast.” She corrected him, “Light is flimsy, dark makes you taste that roast part more than the coffee part.”

“Dark roast is perfectly fine if you aren’t letting it seep for ten whole minutes.” He scoffed.

“Nine.” She tried to hold back her smile to sound more offended than she felt.

“Okay.” He sounded unconvinced, making her bite her lip to stop herself from verbalising her indignation further.

When her timer went off again, she eagerly poured herself the coffee.

“What is the point of a french press if you aren’t pressing it down?” He pointed, noting the way she just used the filter more as a strainer, than a press. She ignored him, filling up her cup till the top and pushing it towards him.

“Try it.” She ordered. There was that spark in his eyes again, she ignored it in the face of her pride. “Now.” She pushed.

He picked it up, bringing the cup to his lips. He swirled it around his mouth gently, swallowing it slowly and having a look of deep concentration on his face the entire time. 

He was so hot that it punched out the air from her lungs.

“It’s good.” He admitted, pushing his cup towards her, “Now you.” The real authority in his voice was milder than her feigned one.

“It’s fine.” She said after her sip. 

A humorous huff left Johnny’s lips but he didn’t say anything.

They left the cafe with a bag of coffee beans each, freshly roasted and to their personal preferences. 

“Thank you for bringing me here.” She told him as they reached the car, “I really enjoyed myself and I really liked the coffee. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my day .” Her smile was a satisfied one, Johnny mirrored it.

“Me neither.” He said, “Your company was greatly appreciated.” He looked away, fumbling with the keys as they reached their vehicle. “I’ll remember today very fondly.”

“So will I.” She added without hesitation.

The ride back was relaxed. Johnny told her about the time he took Doyoung to the Vessel in New York and made him climb the stairs, something Doyoung did not enjoy too much. She learned that Johnny’s favourite restaurant was on fifth avenue and that she had never heard of it, something he was shocked to learn. He was also shocked to learn that she hadn’t been to the Vessel yet.

“Living in New York isn’t as exciting as being a tourist in New York, I’ve realised.” She told him. 

Johnny thought over her words for a second before turning to her, “You know, I think you have a point.” His voice laced with his epiphany. “We only went because Doyoung wanted to visit the Vessel.” She hummed.

“If you live somewhere, there’s never a hurry. When I was younger, I wanted to see all the places in the city. So far I’ve been to the Rockefeller centre. And that was only because I had work at the United Nations building.” She sighed to herself. “The park doesn’t count because it’s near everybody’s office.” She huffed a laugh and he agreed.

There was a silence that settled between them, comfortable and unforced. She enjoyed the view, distantly considering visiting that farmer’s market her assistant always got her jam from. When Johnny’s warm palm touched her thigh, a jolt went right down her spine. She turned to him, exercising a mammoth of self control to not look at his hand.

“We’ve stopped.” She seemed to realise, Johnny hummed in response.

“I just thought we could saviour the view.” He looked out through the windshield, she followed his gaze, a small gasp leaving her lips. She pulled closer to the edge of her seat to get a better view. 

There was a cavern in front of them, covered so thoroughly with plants that it was hard to assess how deep it was. On the other side of the gorge, a stream flowed down from the edge of the precipice, a small waterfall. She could hear the gurgle of it as it fell, the mist from it’s fall blurring whatever was below. Far behind the gorge was the volcano, so high that the tip was covered in clouds. Her eyes drank in the surroundings, willing her mind to burn it into memory. She turned to him, rendered speechless and eyes wide in wonder.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He chuckled, she gave him a nod.

“It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.” She whispered, her eyes going back to the view. She looked around, surprised at the empty side of the highway. A view like this, she assumed, would have a flock of tourists.

 They sat for a moment in silence, the splendour in front of them making words feel futile. Johnny pushed his seat back, reclining it so he could relax. She curled up in the seat, tucking her legs underneath her. 

Her movement made him turn to look at her. She turned to him, “What?” She asked. He looked conflicted as he thought about something before shaking his head at her.

“Oh come on.” She laughed, “Tell me!” She insisted. She turned in the seat to face him, bringing her knees up to her chest and leaning her head to the side to rest on the seat. There was a small flash of something in his eyes, suddenly the air between them felt thicker. His eyes traced her frame, his lips parting as his eyes came back to hers. Suddenly she felt very aware of how the tropical humidity settled on her skin, making her feel a little stuffy despite the air conditioning. 

He reached out, taking a hand in his. He looked at her palm carefully, ran his index finger over her digits before he wrapped her hand completely in his, biting down on his lip. She didn’t think such an otherwise rudimentary act would light her entire body on fire.

His eyes fluttered up to hers again, blown out till they looked black. “You’re so small.” The words weren’t anything beyond a simple observation. But the way he said it, struggled and breathless made her sit up in place. “You would fit so perfectly.” He stopped, using his other hand to comb through his hair, laughing whatever trance he was in off. “We should be heading back.” He said, looking back outside through the windshield. 

There was a disappointment that settled into her chest, “Fit where?” She asked, tucking her legs under her and sitting up on them, coming closer to him.

“(Y/N).” His voice was that tone that was meant to be cautious but sounded like an admonishment. She wanted to tell him that doing that wasn’t helping anything.

She took a deep breath, “Johnny.” What she wanted to sound firm came out breathless and needy.

“God, fuck.” He groaned, turning to pick her up like she was a paper doll. She sat in his lap, stunned by his effortless strength. He raised a brow at her and it finally sunk in— she fit in his lap.

“You like it.” She looked up, searching his eyes for an answer, “Being the big strong one.” She placed her palm flat at the centre of his chest, thrilled by the mix of it’s hard muscles and his rapid heartbeat. His fingers squeezed into her waist, giving her his answer in the best way. “You like that you could crush me till I cease to exist.” She rubbed her thighs together as she said that. He noticed, his breathing as shallow as hers. Something about that gave her the last push she needed, she swung a leg over till both her knees dug into the seat. This close, she could smell his cologne, a mix of clean citrus and light spice that made her lick her lips.

Her frame was nothing compared to his. Her eyes went down to his chest, tracing her eyes over it’s expanse. She bit down on her lip, daring to inch closer to it.

“(Y/N)” His voice was a weak protest.

“Johnny?” She looked back up at him, pleased to finally hear the admonishment in her voice. She ran her palm down his chest, feeling the muscles clench under her chest. Feeling every defined crevice, her eyes fixed on the buttons that looked strained.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.” The way the pet name left his lips, she was sure she would cease to exist without him even touching her. His hands stayed beside him, balled into fists but stationary. “I’m trying to be a decent man.” His eyes held no decency in them as they drank her in with intense hunger.

“Okay.” She brought her eyes back on his. She ran her fingers up his arm, thick and strong, dragging her nails against the warm skin. “You be decent.” Her fingers came to his neck, running a finger along the vein that strained against the thin skin, “I want to touch you.” Her eyes watched the vein pulse, a thought occurring to her,  “If you don’t mind.” She dropped her hand, realising that she was probably pushing him.

He threw his head back with a defeated groan, “Why would I mind?” His laugh was deep and throaty, resonating in her chest. When he looked back at her, his eyes were darker than before. “I wanted to take you out on a date. I wanted to sweep you off your feet.” He sighed, his fingers coming up to cup his face, sweeping the pad of his thumb lightly against her lip once. “I wanted to court you.” His eyes peeled away from her mouth to meet her eyes. The combination of his words and the affection in his eyes made a fresh wave of heat pool between her legs.

“This is a date.” She felt herself blush. She would have been embarrassed of how needy she was being if it was anybody else. “You can court me while you touch me. Please.” She whined, loud and unabashed. She felt like a mess, a puddle of pure nerves that was being held up by a mix of sheer will and his secure arms.

Johnny put his other hand on her back, the heat radiating off it penetrating through the thin cotton of her dress. His thumb traced the edge of the elastic of her bra, making her insane.

“One day,” He spoke inches away from her lips, “In the near future.” His eyes held a promise, “I’m going to make you pay for winding up like this. For taking advantage of my weakness for you.” His breath fanned her face, a pleasing smell of coffee and cinnamon. “I’m going to enjoy punishing you so much baby.” She whined at the name, fisting his shirt. When his lips met hers, she completely melted into his chest. His lips were as soft as they had looked, patiently molding over hers.

He was right, she fit perfectly. 

He ran his tongue over her lower lip and she gladly opened her mouth. When his tongue lapped at hers she saw stars behind her eyes. The hand he had on her cheek going down to her waist, wrapping around it completely. She moaned into his mouth when he bit her tongue gently. He pressed the palm on her back firmly, in one swift motion pulling her in and sitting up.

This close, she could feel how hard he was, pulsing against the flesh of her thigh. She moaned again, grinding her hips down on his pelvis like an animal in heat. His thighs tightened under her, flexing in retaliation. His hand slid up from her back to the base of her neck, where it met her back. He wrapped his fingers around it, gently tugging her head back.

“You’re so fucking wet, (Y/N).” He spat the words out, his fingers instinctually tightening around her neck making her roll her hips. “Are you that eager for me to be inside you?” She gasped at his words. “Well?” He added when she didn’t respond, freeing her neck from his hold.

She gave him a hasty nod and his lips curled up deviously. 

“Use your words, (Y/N). You’re so good with them after all.” He ordered, wrapping a strand of her hair around his finger, “You were so verbose moments ago.” He cooed.

“Yes.” She breathed out. His lip twitched in the corner but he remained silent, raising a brow at her like he wanted more. She bit her lip, her chest and face turning red. “Want you inside me.” The words came out as a soft murmur. He hitched her dress up with a single finger, moving agonizingly slow as he dragged it up her thigh. When her dress was drawn all the way to her waist, he ran a finger along the cloth of her underwear, keeping his eyes locked with hers. He pushed the elastic aside, his finger slipping into her folds, the smirk on his face faltering. She shivered at how cold it felt inside her warm folds, he pressed the finger against her clit and she fell forward, hand going to his shoulder to steady herself.

“Do you feel that?” He rubbed circles around her clit, “How wet your cunt is for me?” He looked dangerous in that moment: his voice impossibly low, tongue impossibly filthy. She nodded, afraid he’d pull his finger away if she didn’t respond. 

He dragged his finger down, grazing around her hole with an outrageously light touch. “Is that what you want? Hmm?” His voice was rough.

“Yes, please.” She gasped

“Such an obedient girl.” He praised, slipping his finger in till just the first joint. She wanted to slap his smug face, she equally wanted to kiss it. When she tried to ease her own hips down he stilled her with his grip on her waist. “Patience.” He reprimanded, making her pout, “Aren’t you a good girl, mmh?” He chastised further and she nodded. “Then behave.” He kept his finger so impossibly still. The sound of her blood rushing and their breathing were together echoing in her mind, so loud that she wondered how she even heard his soft voice with the clarity she did.

“I’ll behave.” She repeated, her nails digging into her shoulder in retaliation despite the polite surrender of her voice.

“You will, won’t you?” He pressed his finger the ghost of an inch further. Sweat beaded on her forehead, making her hair stick to her neck and her dress stick everywhere. “You’d let me hold you within an inch of your sanity.” She nodded at his words, her pussy clenching at his words.

He groaned at her compliance, finally pushing his finger all the way in. She dropped her forehead to his shoulder, the feeling of being filled so far in with a single finger too much for her to think about. 

She thought about how small her hand had looked in his large one, clenching around his finger again. He pulled his finger out so slow, the wet sound of it moving against her wet walls making her moan. He dragged the nails of his other hand up the back of her scalp, making her skin erupt in gooseflesh. Every single nerve in her body felt battered by his ministrations.

When his finger was out till the first joint, he slammed it back with force. Her lips parted in a gasp, she attached it to the base of his throat to silence her moan.

He took a ragged breath, "Fuck (Y/N) you're so tight." He growled the words out, “Move your hips, baby.” She obeyed, matching his rhythm with a feverish pace. He left lazy kisses on her forehead, temples, eyes and shoulder; a stark contrast to the brutal way his finger rammed into her. When he added a second her back arched, her lips going up to his ear, biting down on his lobe. His wince vibrated in her belly.

“God.” She groaned in his ear, “That feels so good.” Her hand slid down his chest, the other now wrapped around his shoulder. He stroked her hair, tugging the strands gently. She clenched around his fingers again from the sensation

Johnny chuckled, “Your body talks for you.” He murmured against her cheek, pulling her hair with a bit more force and making her look at him. “You’re enjoying that aren’t you?” She gave him a nod, eyes rolling back into her skull. His lips brushed against her throat, humming against it. “Tell me, (Y/N). What feels good?” His lips brushed against the skin on her chest at the edge of the neckline of her dress, never going lower.

“You.” She choked on the word, “Everything about you.” She gasped as he curled his fingers inside her. Her back arched, her chest pressing into his. 

She felt her orgasm approaching, her fingers tightening against his shoulder blade. “Johnny.” She sounded almost on the verge of tears. He gently caressed her hair, shushing her softly.

“Are you going to cum for me?” He cooed at her. She gave him a rushed nod and he quickened pace, turning her neck to face him. “I want to see you.” He said.

She rested her forehead on his, his hand letting go of her neck to caress her shoulders. He coaxed her closer to her edge with words of encouragement and praise, his eyes studying her tightly closed eyes and parted lips. 

Every nerve from the top of her head to her toes fired together as her orgasm crashed through her. She moaned his name out, her body shivering with the waves that rippled to her, leaving her legs wobbly.

They stayed like that for a moment as she slowly came back to reality, her breathing slowly adjusting. Johnny lifted his head, kissing her temples, eye and the corner of her lips. She pulled his shoulder, kissing his lips. He smiled against her lips, cupping her cheeks to angle her face to deepen the kiss.

He kissed down her jaw slowly, “You.” He hummed under her ear, “Are pulling me apart by the seams.” He left a chaste kiss on the soft skin.

“You say that like you didn’t just finger my soul into a different dimension.” She let out a choked scoff. Johnny threw his head back and laughed breathlessly. She noticed the sheen of sweat on his forehead, the way his hair stuck to it.

He looked back at her, kissing her forehead affectionately. “You’re absolutely magnificent, you know that?” He held her face in his hands, “And so cute.” He squished her cheeks together, making her eyebrows crease. “You’re also so breathtakingly sexy.” He sighed, dragging his fingers through her hair, making her nuzzle into his palm. “It’s hard to keep myself in check around you.” He gave her a smile that made her grin. “I don’t want to scare you off.” He joked.

“Like you wouldn’t pin me in place by the neck if I did?” She teased him, biting her lip when his smile faltered.

“I’m sorry if I came on too strong.” He sat up, keeping her steady on his lap with his arm. “I didn’t mean to manhandle you.” He looked away from her.

She blinked, “I liked it. Manhandle me again.” She teased. He looked up at her, eyes a little wide. She blushed, looking down to toy with his fingers, her blush only growing when she noticed that they were still sticky from being inside her. “I think I liked it a lot.” She said meekly.

A thought occurred to her, making her eyes flutter to his jeans, “Though you—” her voice trailed off, he followed her gaze to where she was staring, his erection still pressing against his jeans. He tugged her dress, kissing her with a fervour, leaving her aroused and breathless again.

“When I fuck you for the first time, It isn’t going to be cramped up in a car.” He mumbled into her mouth making her shiver. “Don’t worry about me.” He reassured.

By the time they arrived back at the resort, the sun had already set.

“See you at dinner.” She smiled at him.

“No gym for you today?” His voice was the viscosity of dripping honey.

“I think it’s safe to say that I have completed my cardio quota for the day.” She bit her cheek. Johnny stilled, opening his mouth and then closing it. His cheeks going red as he let out a laugh. 

He fumbled with the keys and she was hit with the realisation that this was the same man who was knuckles deep in her, sitting in the same place he was when he did. And just like that, they were both blushing and fumbling.

“Dinner. Right.” He said. He paused, running his fingers through his hair, “Sorry.” He breathed out the word, “I just wasn’t expecting you to say that. I’m not like, pretending it didn’t happen.” He gave her an apologetic look. Her eyebrows knit together.

“I didn’t think you were. But now I’m concerned.” She joked.

“I’m not.” He added too quickly, “When I like someone I mean it.” He explained.

“Good. So do I.” She added, the glint returning to his eyes.

She got out of the car before she did something that would make them both late for dinner. When she entered her room, she was taken aback to see everyone in her room. To her surprise, Sooyoung was there as well.

“How was it?” Sooyoung sat up on her knees on the bed. Yeri giggled from under the comforter.

“What?” (Y/N) shuffled her feet.

“Oh stop. Mark told Doyoung and Doyoung told me. You went on a date.” She grinned harder. 

“It wasn’t a date.” She blushed.

Sooyoung threw the pillow she hugged to her chest at her feet, “He drove you halfway across the island for a cup of coffee. What else was it?” (Y/N) didn’t have an answer to that.

“Why are you being so secretive? We’re your friends!” Wendy laughed.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, “Because,” She paused, eyes locking with Sooyoung, “I don’t want you to get too involved with this and worry too much. He’s nice, I like him. But I don’t want you to feel responsible for anything because he’s your future husband’s friend.” She came up to Sooyoung, sitting down on the bed in front of her.

“(Y/N)–” Sooyoung sat up.

“I know you’re always worried about me. Plus,” She paused, forming the next thought with labour, “I didn’t want to talk about something till I knew there was something to even talk about. Don’t be mad, all of you are my friends and you are the first people I’d tell anything.”

Sooyoung came forward and hugged her, “I’m not mad. I just want you to be happy. Whatever or whoever that is, that’s yours to have.” She comfortably reassured her.

“So,” Jungwoo interrupted. “Does this mean there is something now? If you’re telling us, that is?” He looked at the ceiling in case she glared at him. Sooyoung pulled back from the embrace, holding at arm's length, silently asking her to answer Jungwoo’s question.

“Maybe.” She toyed with her fingers, her face going hot, making her look down.

This time Joohyun squealed, “Oh my god. You really like him, don’t you?” She squealed again, this time her other friends joined in.

“Depends how much you can really like someone in four days.” She reminded them.

“Oh stop!” Seulgi sat up and swatted at her, “Just enjoy it without trying to be practical. You can think about the logistics after you’re back home.”

“Home where Johnny also lives.” Wendy grinned making (Y/N) groan.

“I’m going to go take a shower. When I come back, my room better be empty. Don’t you guys have to get ready?”

Jungwoo disappeared for the third time, coming back with another pair of glasses.

“For fuck’s sake, Jungwoo.” She groaned.

“Aw come on. You’re my partner in crime. Don’t hold back just because you have a man now.” He pouted.

“That’s not–” She paused, her cheeks heating up. “God!” She groaned, “Just give me that fucking glass you imbecile.” Jungwoo grinned, handing it to her.

“I even got you a lemon slice.” He gestured to the space between his ring and middle finger, where he gripped the slice while holding the glasses. She snorted, pulling it out carefully.

More guests had started flying in for the wedding, making the dinners feel more like parties now. (Y/N) picked a comfortable corner table and stayed there, occasionally coaxing Jungwoo or Wendy to get her something to eat. She didn't need to coax Jungwoo to get her alcohol though, and soon enough she started to feel it heating her stomach and the tips of her limbs.

“Oh my god, (Y/N).” Jungwoo sat down, whisper-shouting at her as he placed another glass in front of her. “Look!” He turned to look behind her, “Two of Sooyoung’s college sorority friends are trying to flirt with your Johnny!” He gasped like he was personally offended.

“He’s not my Johnny.” She furrowed her eyebrows at him. She turned, following his gaze to spot him through the crowd. Sure enough, two girls stood laughing at something Johnny said. She turned back, lifting the glass Jungwoo got her to her lips.

“Well?” Jungwoo asked with urgency.

“What?” She gave him a confused look.

“Aren’t you going to do something?” He pressed.

“No?” She said incredulously. “He’s talking to someone, Jungwoo. People are allowed to do that. You don’t know if they’re flirting.” She paused, taking another sip of her drink. “And even if they are. That’s his problem to deal with, not mine.” She shrugged, taking another sip and realising that she no longer felt the burn of it going down her throat. It was time to stop drinking.

“Aren’t you worried?” He frowned this time.

“No.”

“Why?”

She took a deep breath, “Because.” She gave him a pointed look, “If he likes me he won’t flirt back and I have nothing to worry about.” She raised a brow at him, “And if he does flirt back then he’s not worth worrying about.” She scoffed, “I appreciate the concern though.”

“Wow. You’re so cool!” He clapped his hand on her shoulder, making her stumble in her seat. She frowned— she was drunk. “If I was you I would have gone right up to them.”

“It comes with age.” She smiled when he scoffed.

“You say that like you’re so much older than me.” 

“Plus.” She paused a moment, “Johnny isn’t like that.”

“Oh?” Jungwoo’s voice rose in pitch, “We already know what he’s like, do we?” He smiled.

“I’m an excellent judge of character.” She shrugged again. A giggle bubbling up her lips at the look Jungwoo gave her.

“Come on.” He said, coaxing her to get up. “One more drink and I’ll stop bothering you.” He tugged her arm. “Plus, you need to leave this corner so Johnny can see how good you look in that dress. Just to be sure.” He winked, making her laugh again.

The last drink was a mistake. 

The music had shifted to a slow bass and the lights had dimmed, making her feel more intoxicated than she did earlier. She stood with her arms threaded in Joohyun’s, firmly in place. 

Joohyun had only stopped scolding her for drinking too much, a scowl still on her face. Jungwoo had ran away halfway through the lecture they were both meant to share. Joohyun passed her another bottle of water she slipped out of her bag, something (Y/N) was too grateful for.

“What would I do without you.” (Y/N) cooed.

“Get alcohol poisoning. Now drink.” She glared. (Y/N) nodded and tipped the bottle down her throat, finishing the whole thing in one go, too occupied by the feeling of the cool liquid sliding down her throat to notice that she did.

The song changed to a groovy one, making her sway her hips a little. She thought about how ridiculous she must look, having to hold back a giggle before it erupted. Ten points for self-control, she congratulated herself.

“Uhh,” Joohyun spoke up suddenly, turning to look behind her before looking back quickly. “Are you a horny drunk?” 

(Y/N) took a physical step back at the sudden question, “No!” She sounded scandalised.

“Good.” Joohyun said too quickly, in time for an arm to slide around (Y/N)’s waist.

His cologne announced him before he did, the spicy citrus that made her want to lick his skin.

“Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you all night.” He leaned towards her head.

“Getting hammered.” Joohyun deadpanned. “I’m starting to believe it’s a problem.” She gave (Y/N) another glare.

“Jungwoo said I can handle it. Obviously, I had to prove myself.” She whined, making Joohyun put her thumb and index finger on the bridge of her nose.

“Can you look after her? I need to go find Jungwoo and Yeri. Last I saw them, he was getting her drunk.” Joohyun frowned. 

“Maybe he’s the one with the problem.” (Y/N) mumbled mockingly., earning Joohyun’s glare.

“Take her back to our room?” Joohyun added. Johnny gave her a dutiful nod. Joohyun gave her a last glare before walking away, leaving her alone with Johnny.

When she turned to him, he was grinning at her, his arm holding her waist tightly.

“So you’ve been having fun.” Johnny laughed.

“Don’t laugh at me.” She warned, and to his credit he tried: biting down on his lip. She stared at it too long. 

There was a small petty part of her, one that she hardly met save for when she was lacking inhibitions as bad as she did right now. She dragged her eyes back to his eyes, “I heard you found some admirers.” She teased. Johnny gave her such a delicious smile that she felt her stomach do an olympic flip. 

So, apparently, she was a horny drunk after all.

“Are you feeling jealous?” He teased right back.

“No. I’m not the jealous type.” She paused, the liquid courage aside, she also felt the liquid ability to spill the truth. “I am the possessive type, though.” She warned.

In answer, he pulled her closer. “Really?” He sounded delighted. She gave him an affirmative hum. “It's a good thing then." He paused and licked his lips, "That I’m all yours.” His tongue sweeped over his lips, she wished he’d do that to her lips instead.

Definitely a horny drunk.

“I thought so.” She smiled to herself.

“Oh?” He smiled.

“Are you the jealous type?” She changed the topic.

“No. Anyone I’m with, I trust. You don’t feel that way if you trust someone.” He made a lot of sense, he did. But she was in the mood to be a little shit.

“It helps that you look like that.” She gave him a look over, he laughed.

“Like what?” He raised a brow and she scoffed.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t take advantage of a drunk, helpless girl.”

He laughed at that, but seemingly conceded.

“Do you want to sit down?” He asked after a moment, probably realising that she wasn’t steady enough to be upright for so long.

“No, I want you to kiss me.” There was a pause, she bit her tongue. On one hand, she was mortified. 

(Y/N) had a rule to avoid drunken embarrassment: she just asked herself if she would say what she wanted to say if she was sober. If the answer was a no then she kept silent. She reluctantly took away the ten points she had previously given herself.

Yet, on the other hand, Johnny looked like sin on legs.

“You’re drunk.” He scolded. Somehow, when he did it, it was so sexy that she wondered if there was something wrong with her.

“So?” She could hear the stubborn persistence in voice, almost like she wanted to be told off again.

“Didn’t you just ask me not to take advantage of you while you’re drunk and helpless?” He clicked his tongue.

She wriggled in his hold, grabbing his arm when he tried to tighten in around her waist to keep her still. She turned to look at him. From this close she had to crane her neck a lot to get a good look at him. She fit into his arms snugly, coming up to his shoulders.

Johnny let out a shaky exhale.

She bit down impossibly hard on her cheek to stop her smile, “I was stone cold sober in the afternoon.” He took another deep breath. “I’ll be sober tomorrow and still want to kiss you.” She realised her own breath was shallow, her core throbbing.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy, (Y/N). You know that?” He pushed a hand through his hair, a low growl imitating from his throat.

“Prove it.”

He led her out of the banquet hall, holding her hand tightly in his as he guided her god knows where. There was a grin of victory on her face, one she aimed to the back of his head. 

He stopped in the middle of some corridor, pushing her to the wall and locking his lips to hers.

She knew for a fact that alcohol numbs your senses, freeing you from pain and sensation for however long it held its effects. 

But, being kissed by Johnny at the moment, she felt everything to an impossible extent. Her hands fisted his hair, making him groan into her mouth. His hair was soft in her palms, the ends poking into them occasionally and tickling the soft skin. 

She felt the warmth of his palm as it roamed her body, there was nothing slow about them. Whatever restraint he had in the afternoon seemed to have disappeared and she was more than happy about that. She didn’t want his restraint, she wanted his untapped desire.

When he bit down on her tongue, she thought she would cum right there; shamefully, like a teenager with their hormones unstable and directing every action. She mewled against his lips and he ran his hands up her arms, pinning them against the wall and deepening the kiss.

On fire. 

That’s how her body felt in his grasp. She felt mad with desire. Like it fogged her brain and befuddled her body. He kissed down her jaw, her head falling back to catch a much needed breath.

“You left me a little gift today.” He mumbled against her neck, “I thought I’d return the favour.” He poked his tongue, licking a soft circle around the skin before biting down. 

Her moan echoed against the tight walls of the corridor. If someone heard, then she'd worry about it if they came to inquire. He sucked on the skin harshly, no doubt leaving a clear mark. She thought back to when she managed to give him a hickey, her mind too cloaked my lust to focus on anything else.

“Now we both have a matching pair.” He lapped the raw flesh to soothe it. She could only groan in response. She rolled her hips into his, making him shiver. She did it again just because of his response.

He let her hands go to grab her waist, pushing her back into the wall.

“If you do that, I just might fuck you right here.” He warned. She pouted at him, gasping when he bit the flesh inside her lower lip. “Don’t be petulant.” He admonished.

“You seem to like it.” Her voice was, in fact, petulant despite how breathless she felt. The look he gave her made her toes curl.

He dropped his head to her clavicle, licking it slowly before sucking down on the skin. Her fingers went back to his hair, dragging her nails through his scalp. She placed her other palm flat on the wall beside her hip, needing it to keep her grounded. 

He finished her work, looking back up to face her, “That was for the scratches you left on my shoulder.” He reminded her, sliding a hand down from her waist. “This.” His voice dripped into her ear, his hot breath fanning her earlobe. He smacked her ass lightly, playfully. Still her eyes went wide, not expecting that. “Is for being a brat.” He kissed the corner of her lips.

“You’re going to make me lose my mind.” She breathed out, laughing at her own confession.

“Good.” His finger traced lightly against the skin of her thigh, “Then we’ll be on the same boat.” He pushed back, giving her a kiss on her temples. “Come on, let’s get you back to your room. I promised Joohyun I would.” His voice shifted back to it’s friendly ease effortlessly. 

When she woke up the next morning, her head throbbed. But the cold sweat on the back of her neck and the uncomfortable heat between her legs let her know what she dreamed about. She realised that she had been woken up, looking up to see Joohyun standing over her bed. Her arms crossed like she was disappointed in her. (Y/N) thought about last night, rubbing her face with her palm. Joohyun was justified in her disappointment.

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything you would regret under the sun.” Joohyun pushed the covers off her.

“No.” She croaked, pausing and then reforming her statement. “Nothing I wouldn’t do sober.” She smirked to herself at that. Joohyun let out a snort, closing her eyes and turning away, trying to curb her smile.

“Come on.” She poked her shoulder, “I’m not letting you skip breakfast.” (Y/N) whined but obeyed, getting out of bed.

Day 5

Joohyun and her walked to the restaurant together, the others already there according to Joohyun. They had turned a corner when they heard a voice call her name out. They both looked right to find Mark waving, Johnny walking beside him. He had his hands in his pocket, wearing a white t-shirt with simple terracotta shorts.

It occurred to (Y/N) that while she didn't believe in perfection, Johnny Suh was probably the closest anyone could come to it. 

"I didn't see you all day yesterday!" Mark commented as they came closer, her eyes drifting to Johnny at the remark. He looked at her like he was fine with letting her answer that all by herself.

"Yeah. Sorry about that." Was all she could bring herself to say. 

When they finally reached, Johnny came up in front of her with an evil glint in his eyes that didn't match the soft smile on his face. She was only just raising a suspicious eyebrow at him when he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. 

She stood frozen for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest and her face turning hot, both of which she was sure he could feel. Her hands came up to his chest and she hesitated for a second, dangerously tempted to pull him close. He smelled faintly like a different cologne, like bitter oranges and spice— a signature that would now arouse her simply from association. Instead, she pushed him gently. He moved back without any resistance, a pout forming on his lips.

"What are you doing?" Her voice sounded like something between a whimper and sheer horror.

"Kissing you." He said the words like it was something he did all the time and she was the one who was weird for asking. It also made butterflies erupt in her stomach because he gave her a soft smile while he said it.

He started to lean back again when she pushed back, bending her back to get her face away from him. From the corner of her eye she could see Joohyun and Mark, frozen in place and watching them.

"What's gotten into you?" She glared at him. Embarrassed and incredibly turned on by his brazen claim.

"What?" He pouted. "You promised last night, remember? He tightened his arm on her waist, pushing a strand of hair that fell out of her hasty ponytail behind her ear. "You said you'd kiss me when you're sober tomorrow. That's why we–" With a teasing smirk growing on his lips, he started to remind her. She quickly reached up to put her hand on his mouth.

"Okay," She hissed, "Okay." She levelled her voice, "You've made your point. Now stop." She begged, wriggling in his hold but he made no move to budge, his eyes turning up in glee. When she let go of his mouth he whined; the three of them looked at him like he was insane.

"But you promised." He huffed.

"Maybe we should go?" Mark turned to Joohyun who gave him a quick nod.

"No!" She snapped at them, "We're also going. Johnny's just being exasperating." She turned back to give him a glare.

"You seem to like it." He repeated the words she said to him last night, making her cheeks feel impossibly hot. He let go of his hold on her waist after that, tucking his hands back into his pocket. She moved away from him immediately, straightening herself and avoiding eye contact with the two people who were witness to his retribution.

"Breakfast." She reminded them and more importantly herself, "I'm not in the mood to be messed with before I drink my morning cup of coffee." She mumbled, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards their destination forcefully.

"Can I mess you up after it then?" His choice of words were deliberate. She took a sharp inhale, ignoring him completely.

Johnny slipped his fingers through hers at some point during the rest of the short walk. She tried not to think too much about it, but her heart pounded against her chest anyway. He was pulling her towards the coffee machine predictably when a voice called out to her. She turned to see Sooyoung’s mom beckon her over. She turned around to Johnny rather apologetically, not wanting to let go of his hand. 

She felt sick with infatuation. 

He looked up at Sooyoung’s mom, before back at her. “Sit with me today?” He questioned and she gave him a nod, a smile spreading on her lips. He let go with a satisfied nod, letting her hand go, she slowly walked away to Sooyoung’s parents.

“It’s been so long.” Mrs. Park hugged (Y/N). “Sooyoung is always bragging about you to us.” She laughed, pulling back and holding her at arm’s length. “You’ve grown into a beautiful, independent woman, (Y/N).” Something about that made (Y/N)’s lips quiver.

Mrs. Park was a special person to (Y/N). She never doted over Sooyoung for how beautiful she was— and Sooyoung was, by all accounts, stunning. Instead she raised her daughter to be opinionated and strong-willed. When (Y/N) first met Mrs. Park, the woman took it upon herself to impart the same wisdom on her. Whenever (Y/N) was at their house, she was no different from her daughters and through the years, Mr. and Mrs. Park had become like her parents. The compliment coming from Mrs. Park felt like she had finally made it in life. She hugged her again.

“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to visit. I missed you.” Her voice wavered and Mrs. Park laughed and patted her back.

“Sooyoung calls you our little busy body.” She laughed, patting her head with motherly affection. “Come home and I’ll feed you okay? You look like you need to take better care of yourself.” She looked down at her, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “Look at the bags under your eyes.” She cooed.

(Y/N) scoffed gently, “You and mom would have a field trip if you came together.” Her words made Mrs. Park laugh.

“I haven’t seen her in so long as well, wow!” She paused, “You kids really grew up.” She said wistfully.

“I insisted that she travel a little. With us siblings occupied with work, she’s bound to be lonely by herself. She’s currently in Australia visiting a friend, nearby actually.” She laughed.

“Does she visit you?” Mrs. Park asked.

“Sometimes, yeah. I feel bad about her flying all the way just to spend most of the time in the apartment by herself. She doesn’t even know anybody in New York.” She smiled, trying to mask her sadness at her own words. It was fine, she told herself. She grew up wanting what she had now, the consequences were just a part of that.

“Come visit okay? Take some days off once in a while. I’m a shorter flight away.” She scolded her and she nodded with a laugh. “Go eat now! That man has been waiting for you all this time!” She laughed pushing her. (Y/N) turned away, giving her hand a final squeeze.

Johnny was waiting for her like Mrs. Park said. Leaning against a pillar and watching her carefully.

“Are you okay?” His voice was laced with concern, forehead creased. Something stirred deep inside her chest.

“Yeah.” She felt her lips grow into a smile, “I think I really am.” It was a rare instance where the words felt true.

He gave her a questioning look but didn’t press, “Let’s eat?” She nodded.

They were all walking back towards their rooms together when Haechan spoke up.

“Let’s go to the beach, you guys! The wedding's the day after and we’re yet to take a dip in the sea!” He whined, pulling Mark’s arm.

“Don’t you dare.” Doyoung glared, “If any of you get sick, Sooyoung will pop a vein. The whole thing was too meticulously planned.” Sooyoung looked at Doyoung, looking like she didn’t know whether to be offended or proud.

“Fine. We’ll just go and walk on the beach. Come on!” He pushed, “I had a whole scenario in mind when I heard you were having a beach wedding. So far I’ve had a slice of pineapple and that’s it.” He groaned.

“Fine.” Doyoung huffed. Haechan gave him a thumbs up.

It was too hot this early in the day, suddenly nobody liked the idea of being on the beach anymore. Haechan insisted on standing at the edge of the water, clearly flushing from the heat but pretending he was enjoying himself for the sake of his pride. The rest of them found spots of shade to shield themselves. At some point, Haechan managed to drag Mark and currently chased him around the hot sand.

“Johnny!” Haechan shouted across the beach at some point. Johnny lifted his head from the lounging chair he was lying on to look at the boy, moving his sunglasses up to his head. “Help me drag Mark into the water!” He said with a loud giggle, the corner of Johnny’s lips tugged.

“Why would I do that?” He shouted back.

“Because it’s fun to tease Mark.” Haechan replied. Johnny sat up with a laugh, giving into that. Mark looked over, shaking his head at Johnny.

“Why are you bothering the poor boy.” She told Johnny off.

“Just a little bit.” Johnny winked, making her laugh.

He caught up to Mark easily, yet instead of picking him up, he stopped in front of Haechan with a grin, lifting him up and walking towards the sea. Haechan’s shrieks were a mix of horror and surprised delight as he beat his fists on Johnny’s back, the action not seeming to make a difference. As they just about reached the edge, Johnny swung him once before placing him back on his feet. Haechan gave Johnny a surprised hug like he saved his life making Johnny laugh and ruffle his hair.

He came back with an easy smile on his lips, perching his sunglasses back on his eyes. Lying back down on the chair and putting his arms behind his head, he took a deep sigh. “I could get used to this.” He mostly spoke to himself.

She turned to him, staring at his profile. The sun illuminated his face below the nose, the rest covered by the large umbrella above them. She traced her eyes on his chin, his lips illuminated under the soft rays of the sun.

“Enjoying the view?” His voice came out a sleepy murmur. He shifted, turning to face her, taking the shades off his eyes and putting an arm under his head. 

She gave him a hum, shifting to mirror his posture.

“Do you ever feel lonely?” His voice was soft.

“Of course.” She smiled, “Everyone does.” She sighed herself. His leisure influencing her too.

“What do you do when you do?” He questioned.

“I call my friends, ask them about their day.” He shifted closer on his chair, “We video call each other, complaining about work and life.” She smiled affectionately.

“That sounds nice.” He hummed softly, “There’s a comfort in knowing your struggles are understood. More than your achievements sometimes. Though,” He paused, a breathy chuckle coming from him, “That’s also its own kind of nice.” He admitted, making her chuckle too.

A figure approached, blocking the sun and making them turn. Yuta stood with Ten beside him.

“We have to go, dude. The bachelor party still needs execution.” Yuta flung his arm at Johnny’s back. Johnny turned over, squinting when the sun fell on his eyes. After a moment he sighed, sitting up and giving him a nod.

“How cute. They have matching hickeys.” Yuta jabbed his elbow at Ten’s ribs, making him wince first and look later.

“She has two.” Ten smiled, “Johnny my bro!” Ten sniggered.

“We’re leaving.” Johnny warned them, whatever look he turned to give them making them stop. He turned back to her, a lazy smile on his face. “I’ll see you tonight.” He promised, “Don’t pay attention to them.” He pointed to his friends, “This is how we treat people we’re close to.”

Johnny sucked in his lower lip, grazing his teeth over it before he opened his mouth again, “And.” He put his shades back on his nose, “Don’t drink.” A smile danced at the edge of his lips.

It was Doyoung’s idea to have their respective bachelor parties before dinner. He needed his sleep, he had told Sooyoung. When he reminded her that she would get dark circles, she conceded.

As they were sitting at the table for dinner, (Y/N) could tell that both of them were regretting that decision. They sat side by side, clearly still drunk out of their minds— their cheeks flushed and eyes heavy. Both of them kept their eyes glued to the table, furrowed in concentration. She bit back a laugh. She glanced around the table. Most of the boys and, even her friends, all in various stages in intoxication. A gentle pout formed on her lips. While she did thoroughly enjoy the afternoon watching her friend’s antics, she felt a little left out suddenly. 

As she scanned across the table, her eyes met Johnny’s. To his credit, he looked sober too. She raised her glass of water with a mocking smile, watching his lips part for a laugh. He raised his too, as if to reaffirm that they were together in their sobriety. She looked away from him, pleased with the idea.

Taeyong, Doyoung’s best man, expertly forfeited his speech by claiming that he would rather give time to anybody else since he has one for the wedding day. The way he spoke slowly to avoid tangling his words together told her that was only half of the reason.

Jungwoo swayed so clearly in his seat that Sooyoung’s dad flashed him a concerned glance. When he looked up to give him a thumbs up, it did the opposite of reassure him. Suddenly, she wasn’t feeling too bad about being sober anymore. 

They caught each other’s eyes a few more times during the meal. 

At some point, Mark even convinced Johnny to give a little speech. Johnny spoke about the time Doyoung flew down to New York without hesitation because Johnny admitted to him that his new apartment felt isolating. Doyoung came, helped Johnny pick out furniture that felt comfortable and baked cookies so the apartment would feel more homely. Johnny assured the crowd that in a weekend's time, the place did feel like home because he had memories in them. 

Doyoung looked embarrassed, but looked at Johnny with love in his eyes. Mark added that Doyoung made better cookies than his mom, but his mom wasn’t a good baker anyway. The crowd laughed and Doyoung wiped a tear away quickly.

When Johnny came back, Doyoung got up to give him a hug— burying his face in his chest and making Johnny pat his back affectionately. The whole ordeal left her feeling warm and soft in a way that felt new.

It had been more than an hour, she somehow ended up in a corner listening to Jungwoo’s unsolicited opinion on the possibility of alien life when she saw Johnny walking towards them. Jungwoo clicked his fingers in front of her eyes to get her attention, leaning further on his chair.

“If you think about it. Like really think about it.” Jungwoo whispered, shushing her mid sentence even though she was silent the whole time. “They’re just waiting for us to get technologically advanced enough to fight in a war with them.” He concentrated on the floor.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for them to attack before we get there?” Despite herself, she indulged him. Too infuriated by the flaw in logic to not question it.

Jungwoo pondered over the words for a second before shaking his head, “No I’m definitely the one making sense.” He wiggled his index finger in front of her face, “Syria, (Y/N). Think about what happened in Syria.” He urged as Johnny finally came and stood in front of them, peering down at Jungwoo.

“Save me.” She mouthed at Johnny, then not sure if he wouldn’t just to enjoy her suffering.

“You know, I think what he’s saying has its merits.” Johnny pointed the glass in his hand to Jungwoo. He brightened up at those words.

“See? Johnny knows space Syria is legit.” Jungwoo gloated. Johnny snorted to himself and she felt tired, just humming at the drunk boy.

“Want to take a walk with me on the beach?” Johnny asked her after a moment. At first, she thought she would refuse just to spite him.

“And don’t even get me started on Y2K–” Jungwoo began. She stood up.

“Yes beach.” She said too eagerly, before something occurred to her. She turned back to the very drunk Jungwoo with concern.

“I can ask Taeil to drop him back to his room, if you want. He told me he’s going to leave anyway.” Johnny offered and she gave him a very grateful smile.

After they found Taeil, he helped Jungwoo out and reassured he’d get the drunk fool back to his room. Johnny led her out of the banquet hall. They passed the corridor they were in the day before, both of their eyes lingering on the wall.

When they got on the elevator, she felt her cheeks heat up. There was a moment's pause before Johnny burst out laughing, she was compelled to join in.

"You know why I was in the basement the other day?" He questioned with an indulgent grin. She looked up at him, still a little flustered and not yet willing to speak.

"I was the only one who could drive here. So I got the boys pizza." He snorted, "I was so close to saying no." He ran his fingers through his hair, a smile forming on his lips. "I was on a flight for 20 hours with a 5 hour layover after a whole day's work. I was tempted to just order them room service so I could sleep." He fell into some thought, spacing out slightly.

"Oh." She said when the silence dragged for a moment.

"Taeil and Haechan begged. To think that I was so close to missing the way we met." He snorted.

"We would have still met, I mean our best friends are getting married." She didn't know why her voice sounded so intimate. Johnny laced his fingers through hers, watching as he toyed with the digits.

"Yeah." He looked up, "But that's a better story to have, isn't it?" Glee gleamed in his eyes.

Johnny took a few steps closer, "Plus," His eyes traced her face. "How else would I have known how impossibly cute you are when you're flustered?" He clicked his tongue. "I'll have to get Taeil and Haechan pizza anytime they ask now." He lamented.

"Because you now have an elaborate scheme to meet more women?" She laughed. 

He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her palm and making her breathing shallow again. "To thank them. I don't think I'd have the balls to pursue you otherwise." He hummed against her palm.

She scoffed, "Right." She lifted a brow at him.

"See? When you do that you look like you'd break my knees if I bothered you. It's kind of hot." He hummed against her wrist.

"You spoke to me at breakfast!" She tried to counter, her voice meek.

"And you looked like you were in no mood to engage in conversation. You rushed away too." He tugged her arm to pull her closer, pouting his lips. "I was a little intimidated." He mumbled, moving his hands to her hips.

She felt a little dumbstruck. 

Johnny. The Johnny that stood in front of her right now with his dark hair tossed over; in a suit that fitted so well that it had to be custom tailored. The Johnny who currently towered over her frame and looked at her with eyes that bore into hers. This Johnny was intimidated by her?

"Don't be ridiculous." She sounded dazed, before a perplexed laugh came from her lips. "You're just teasing."

"I swear it." He smiled, coming closer to kiss her temples. "When you realised I was the same person from the elevator, you looked so flustered." He chuckled against her ear. "I thought to myself, 'I'd risk getting my knees kicked in just to get a few words in with you'. I was really hoping my charms would work." She lifted her neck as lips went towards her throat. Her mind was foggy while she tried to process everything he just said.

The elevator dinged as it reached the main floor. Reluctantly Johnny let her go, keeping her hand in hers as they walked over to the beach.

"So you really can't think of anything that you would like as a romantic gesture?" Johnny craned his neck towards her, his elbows dug into the towel they picked up at the pool as he propped his upper body up on them, leaving a dent in the sand.

She shook her head at him again, resting her head on her knees. Johnny looked up at the sky, chewing his lips trying to think of something.

"Flowers?"

She wrinkled her nose, "I dislike the concept of giving or buying flowers." At this Johnny sat up further, his eyes furrowed in confusion.

"Why?" His bewildered tone made her smile.

"It seems like a waste to me. Cutting beautiful flowers just so you can bring them home and display it." She thought about it, "To me it says, 'Have this tender thing that I essentially killed for you!’.” She frowned, “Not flowers." She confirmed.

"Damn." Johnny said softly, "You have a point." To that she laughed.

"What about gifts?" He tried.

"I can buy anything I want by myself."

Johnny whined, "That's not the point, (Y/N). It's a gesture, it says: 'I thought of you when I saw this.' or, 'I want you to think of me when you see this'." He held his hands out like he was holding something in them.

"Okay." She conceded, "I guess it depends on the intentions but when you say it like that it sounds kind of nice." She shrugged.

Johnny lay back down on the towel again, laughing in the disjointed way he did when he found something genuinely delightful. 

She smacked his chest, "Don't laugh at me." She mumbled.

"I'm not laughing at you." He rolled over to face her, putting his palm under his head.

"Then?"

Johnny chewed on his bottom lip for a second, "You aren't a romantic, are you?" He didn't sound accusatory, merely curious. She thought about that, coming short of an answer. 

"I don't know actually." She looked up at the moon, "I've never really thought about it."

"How are you like in a relationship?" He readjusted his arm again, bringing the forearm down to rest in front of him and propping himself on a single elbow, toying with his other hand.

She hesitated for a moment, the sound of the waves crashing on the sand and the whistle of the sea breeze in her ears. Her hair tossed in the wind and she took a deep breath. If it was someone else she would have dodged the question. She looked back towards Johnny, patiently watching. Johnny, who was patient and considerate. To the point where she felt so comfortable around him that it felt strange to think that till a week ago she didn't know who he was.

Her eyes drifted away from his, looking over to a hole in the sand— one that a crab had burrowed into it. 

"I've dated twice in my entire life." She breathed out. She thought about the creature that lay somewhere under the warm sand, snug in its shell and lonely in it's comfortable burrow. "Both times were short. More curiosity about how it would feel rather than wanting to be with the person." When she turned her eyes back to Johnny he was watching her with a deeply contemplative face.

She looked back at the horizon where the sea seemed to meet the sky, the line currently blurred in the dark.

"The first time I was young and stupid. He wasn't unkind, he was just the first person who ever asked me out. It was before university and I went for it." Her eyes drifted up the horizon, the sea turning into an ocean of stars. "A month later he told me he wanted to be with me even when we went to Universities on opposite sides of the country." She took a shaky breath, "In hindsight, I was cruel. But I freaked out and just left without saying anything." She took another long breath, finally turning to look at him. 

Johnny still didn't say anything, still looking at her with those same eyes.

She willed herself on, "I had my life ahead of me, you know? I wanted to see things, see the world." She laughed at the words, thinking about her old self— naive and hopeful. "I didn't want to go off to University already committed to a guy that I hardly knew. A guy I didn't even like." She took another breath.

Her eyes drifted back to the waves again, the moonlight making the sea foam look like it was glowing. She sighed. She had started now, she might as well finish.

"I ended up not dating the rest of University." She shrugged, "I realised that I didn't even like casual sex." She paused, turning to him quickly. "That isn't to say that I have a problem with it. It's just not something that worked for me." Johnny finally gave her a nod, the small reassuring smile on his lips making her feel like she could finally breathe. "I did a lot of stupid shit that I regret now." She groaned, pushing her hair back from her face.

"You were young." He mumbled. Hearing his voice after the long silence felt a little jarring. "We all did stupid shit when we were young. That's what it's about anyway." He shifted again, sitting up and crossing his legs, "Trial and error." He said thoughtfully, his eyes roaming her face.

"So." She sighed, "I didn't date anyone after that. I didn't care about it anyway, I wanted to be someone more than be with someone." She paused, laughing. "That sounds so stupid when I say it out loud." She scoffed.

"No." Johnny spoke, eyes furrowed. "That's one of the most important things I've heard anybody say." He looked resolute. "Being someone is the most important thing we can do. It’s why we have this head,” He tapped against his, “With its desires and opinions and voice." She looked at him as he spoke, putting something she could not really pin down, into words. Tangible, with nowhere to hide from them. "It's important to be someone real, not just what you think you are for people." His voice dropped low, like he was afraid of breaking something.

"Yes." She breathed out, "When you know who you are, you can allow yourself to be understood." Johnny smiled at that.

A tender silence fell between them, one of contemplation. The waves came close as the tide rose. She released her knees to sit back, feeling cramped from the position. She sighed, relaxing into the night.

"And the second?" Johnny asked after a while. She turned to him, the context lost on her. "The second guy you dated." He clarified. Her eyes lit up with the epiphany before she looked back down, tracing the geometric patterns on the towel under them with her eyes.

"It was someone I met when I had only just started working." She picked at the piece of lint that disrupted the flow of the patterns. "It was fine till he thought I never had time for him." She smiled sadly to herself, looking back up at Johnny once she pulled the thread out. "I didn't mind when he broke it off. There was nothing I could do. He wanted a girl who would take care of him— I hardly take care of myself most of the time. We just weren't a good match." She didn't feel regretful.

"How long ago was that?" He tried to sound casual, she knew that. But the anxiety in his eyes gave him away.

"Four years." She didn't hesitate.

"You haven't been with someone for four years?" He coughed the moment he realised that he sounded too shocked. She smiled at his careful efforts.

"No." She shrugged, "I let myself get busy with work. I found myself enjoying a walk in the park by myself or a late night movie alone. It was little things at first, and then I realised." She gave him a smile, "I genuinely enjoy my own company." She chuckled as the long held thought manifested into words.

"That life sounds good." He chuckled. Johnny looked down at the towel, finding his own piece of lint to fiddle with.

"It is." She assured him. She paused, taking a breath as a thought that had been scratching against the edges of her mind inched closer.

Her eyes fluttered over his features; the full pucker of his lips, the soft curve high curve of his nose. He focused on the way his hair rested on his forehead and his eyelashes framed his lids, brushing against his cheeks as his eyes stayed on the towel.

She thought about the red tie he wore at dinner and the way he kissed her in front of both their friends just to prove a point. She remembered the way he smiled at his friends, and the way he playfully teased Mark. She pictured him, alone in a new apartment for the first time, wanting home

She took a small breath, something clicking into place inside her, "And then I met you." Johnny stopped fidgeting with the towel, looking up with a look so vulnerable that a conditioned panic rose up her throat. She quelled it, deciding that she didn't need the reflex. "And I think for the first time I realised that life could also be content." Her breathing picked up, the vulnerability she suddenly felt no doubt reflected in her eyes. "And I think I also just found an answer to your question." A smile played on her lips. 

He furrowed his brows at her, tilting his head like he didn't know what she was talking about. 

"I like gestures." Her lips grew wider, "I want someone to show how they feel about me. I find action romantic." She paused again, closing her eyes and ignoring the burn on her cheeks as she spoke the next sentence, "Gestures that would seemingly go unnoticed, small acts that aren't meant to prove anything other than just being." She raised her palm, gently touching his face, "That's what swept me off my feet."

She finished her confession, waiting for him to say something. Johnny searched her eyes, still looking for something.

"You haven't been with anyone in four years." He assessed the words, "You've only been with two people in your entire life." He repeated her words. 

She gave him a nervous nod, unsure of where this was going. After the high of her confession started to fade, she realised that there was a possibility that he didn't want all the things she did.

"Do you want to be with me?" His eyebrows knit to impossibly close together.

She tried to hide her nerves with a jab, "I was sure I was speaking to you just now." She joked. Johnny put a finger under her chin, lifting it and staring at her with a serious expression.

"(Y/N). He pleaded softly.

"Without a shadow of a doubt." She felt a weight lift off her chest when Johnny's eyes finally lit up.

"I will cherish this like the privilege it is." He promised, "Cherish you." He pulled in closer, finally kissing her. She put her palm on his chest and pushed gently, Johnny sat back willingly. He wrapped his arms under her knees, bringing her closer to him. He kept his hands in place as she slowly explored his body with her hands. He kept still as she explored his mouth with her tongue.

With a slowly building resolution, she brought her fingers up to his neck, tugging him to her, trying to get that much closer. He finally moved his hands, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his. She sighed in relief, surrounded by his warmth and scent. Her hand slipped to his shoulder, pulling him closer. His chest pressing against hers as she pressed her tongue against his. Her other hand landed on his thigh and when she dragged her nails on the trousers his hips bucked up. She smiled against his lips, feeling victorious she ground her hips into his. She heard him groan, his arms moving up her waist. She did it again. He slipped his arms to her thighs, before stroking back up again— silent encouragement. 

She sat up a little further, arching her back till she was impossibly close to him. Her fingers went into his hair for leverage and she rolled her hips again. Johnny pulled back from the kiss with a stutter.

“(Y/N).” He growled his warning, she took the chance to kiss down his jaw. He raised his head to give her access, groaning. “I’m going to cum into my pants like a teenager.” He tried to warn her off. A soft whine left her lips the moment she thought about that, only rolling her hips with more purpose. Johnny laughed, a deep throaty laugh that made his adam’s apple bob as her lips brushed against it. She licked the skin gently. When he said her name then, it was a defeated whine.

He was so hot like this. So hot that it felt like she wouldn’t be able to stop even if she wanted. She slipped a hand down his chest, brushing it against the strained bulge in his pants. He grabbed her wrist, making her laugh softly against his shoulder blade.

“Please.” She whispered, his fingers loosened their grip but stayed around her wrist. She lay her palm flat on his cock, rubbing it up and down. He let her hand go with a defeated huff, putting both his hands behind him to lean back. She watched his face, the anguished crease of his forehead, the way his lips parted and then closed when he swallowed, his eyes squeezed shut. 

She slowed down her pace. Johnny opened his eyes to look down at her. Despite the situation, it was her breathing that picked up under his gaze.

“Do you want to cum?” She asked him, she felt him twitch under her palm. For a second he didn’t respond, only watching her with those eyes— like he would devour her if given the opportunity. Both their rapid breaths became the only sound between them, he raised a brow at her. She bit down on her lower lip. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t move. All he did was watch her, waiting. 

Finally she took the liberty, moving her hand again. He inhaled sharply, eyes fixed on her. She increased her pace.

He threw his head back after a moment, his throat bobbing, “(Y/N), fuck.” He groaned as his hips bucked again, his cock twitching. Then she felt it, the spreading heat.

“You came in your pants.” Her voice was a mix of surprise and pride. He sat back, his eyes impossibly dark, his brows still furrowed. He grabbed the back to her neck, bringing his lips to hers. He devoured her like his eyes had promised, kissing her with fervent urgency.

He pulled away too soon, getting up from the ground. She watched as he adjusted his pants, his jaw setting hard when his fingers brushed against the wet patch on the front of his pants. He gave her his hand after he finished, hoisting her up.

“I’m going to return the favour.” He warned, “Let’s go.” He pulled her away.

Johnny tapped his index finger against the reception desk, the pace of it increasing with each passing moment. She felt apologetic towards the man who stood on the other side of the desk, staring at the computer screen in front of him.

“I’m sorry, sir.” He looked up, repeated exactly what he said moments ago. “All our rooms are booked up. Between the wedding and seasonal crowds, there is nothing. I can’t even see rooms that are currently on hold.” His voice was of professional regret.

Johnny ran his fingers through his hair, the frown on his features growing. She felt herself rub her thighs together.

“You don’t have a single empty room in this entire place?” He was trying to be polite, she knew that. He kept his voice leveled and tried to sound more like he was coaxing than demanding. But the frustration that was all over his face was justifiably intimidating. The man tapped his pen against a notepad.

“We have the pool villas on the other side of the property–” He started.

“I’ll take it.” Johnny reached for his pocket, taking his wallet out.

“Wait,” She tugged his arm, “This isn’t necessary. Johnny.” She felt the guilt rack over her. He gave her the smallest smirk.

“Don’t back off now. You started this.” He exhaled through his teeth, handing the card to the man behind the desk with his eyes on her.

A thought occurred to him, making him turn back to the man at the front desk, “Just make sure it’s as far away from the one booked for the wedding couple.” Johnny gave the guy a meaningful look. He nodded at him, a smile forming on his lips when he turned to swipe the card.

The walk was an excruciatingly long one. They took the beach to keep the route as swift as possible. (Y/N) held her heels in her hand and his jacket around her shoulders. Despite her insistence that she couldn’t possibly feel cold by the beach, he wrapped her in it anyway, a smirk on his lips. It currently brushed against her thigh, somehow longer than her dress.

“I can’t believe you did that.” She groaned when she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “An entire villa.” She groaned again.

“Do you want this?” He stopped walking suddenly, turning to her with soft eyes. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I’m fine with just talking to you, I love talking to you. I know you haven’t had sex in a while. Don’t feel like you have to because of this.” He shook the keycard in front of him.

“Of course I want to do this.” She spoke before he finished. “Have I not made that abundantly obvious?”

“Then don’t worry about the place, it doesn’t mean anything.” He reassured her, turning to start walking again.

“I just feel like I forced you into this.” She grimaced. He took her hand in his squeezing like he was silently telling her off for thinking that.

“If I don’t fuck you right now I’m going to go crazy.” He said it casually, missing her hitched inhale, “I know you feel the same. Kneading into me on the beach under the open skies. I told you, don’t back out now.” He turned to burn his heated gaze into her, “I’ve spent days losing sleep over imagining how you look naked under me. I just didn’t want to do it anywhere. You deserve better than that.”

A tortured noise came from her throat, reluctantly she let the matter of the villa go. It was the most reckless and illogical thing he could do. But everything about this week felt so quixotic that this might as well have happened too.

Her heart started picking up when Johnny pulled into the steps of one of the villas on the row of them that stretched across the beach, walking up the stairs with her hand still firmly in his. The door beeped when he tapped the card on the handle and then they were inside a dark room that looked too big. She dropped her heels on the floor. Johnny flicked a light switch by the door, illuminating the entrance. 

Stairs went up a few feet in front of them, the seating area in front of them leading to french doors on the other side that spanned the entire expanse of the back wall. 

Johnny leaned down to brush his lips against her temples, her eyes fluttering shut. "How about a dip in the pool?" His voice was liquid velvet. At his words, she noticed the reflection of a pool outside the glass. She wanted to say no, pull him upstairs instead. "Ever since I saw you swimming the other day, I haven't been able to get the image of it out of my mind." He chuckled into her hair.

She turned to him, "You have very specific fantasies." She noted mockingly.

"I like to think of it as an extension of knowing exactly what I want." His fingers slid down hers, "Plus," His lips brushed over her eyes. "I promised, remember? When I finally get the chance, I would take my time with you. I promised to be slow and agonising." His other hand pushed her hair back, light fingers skimming against her shoulder and making her shiver.

"Johnny." She whined in protest, earning a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"You have some much needed retribution in store." The words filled her with dread and anticipation.

"Can't you just punish me later?" She gave him wide eyes and a soft pout.

"You think that helps your cause.” He chuckled, “But you're only making things worse for yourself." He warned, "You made me ruin my suit." He reprimanded.

"You seemed to like it." She mumbled, looking down at the floor. 

He slipped a finger on her chin, making her look up at him, "And you will like what I am going to do to you as well." He coaxed, a look of devious vow in his eyes.

Then his eyes turned darker, furrowing his brows. "So take off your dress. Let's go enjoy the most of this place I was forced to take because of your lack of self control." 

"You told me not to worry about that!" She smacked his shoulder in indignation, making him laugh.

"You don't need to worry about it. You just need to know that you willingly pushed me off the edge of my self control." He wrapped his arm around her waist and he walked away, guiding her to the doors on the opposite side of the building.

Johnny took off his suit slower than she’d like, in retaliation she didn’t touch her dress till he was done. She watched intently the whole time, watching as he took off his tie; then very slowly unbuttoned his shirt— something she urged to do herself. She dug her feet in place instead, eyes tracing his chest. She had seen his arms before, felt his chest under her palm a few times, she knew she was well built. But, as he peeled the shirt off his shoulder, nothing she could picture in her head could do justice to the man who stood in front of her. She swallowed, realising after that, yes, she was literally drooling while staring at his body. 

After he took the shirt off, he looked up to her face. She snapped her eyes up to his face like she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Amusement danced in Johnny’s eyes but he didn’t speak. She kept her eyes fixed on his face as she heard the rattle of his belt. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, pulling out every inch of free will she had to keep her eyes in place as his pants fell to the floor. He stepped out of them, keeping his gaze fixed in hers as well. Then he frowned, bending down to pick up his pants.

 He neatly placed his clothes on a chair, pointing an accusatory finger at her clothed body after. “Why is that still on you?” His voice brushed against her skin even from the distance.

She willed herself to keep her eyes glued to his face. “I’m considering your constructive criticism. Trying to exercise more self control.” She kept her voice surprisingly steady, metally patting herself on the back.

“Oh?” He stepped closer to her, “And you think now is the time for you to learn that?” He tilted his head, his gait predatory.

She raised her chin in defiance, giving him a nod.

“Where was this self control when you had my fingers deep inside you in a car on the highway, hmm? Or when you needed me to kiss you right outside a gathering of people we both know?” He came and stood in front of her, brushing his fingers where her dress met her thighs. She focused on the wild look in his eyes, trying to ignore the chill his fingers sent down her spine.

“I told you,” Her voice came out throaty. “I’m learning.” Johnny smirked.

“Alright.” He hummed, pushing her arms up. She didn’t resist. She didn’t resist when he peeled her dress off either. She tried to ignore the heat that rose up from her chest to her face when he looked at her body, resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands. Johnny took his time drinking in her frame. She bit her lip. When he looked up, his eyes looked bored. “We’ll see how long it lasts, hmm baby?” Her toes curled at the purr in his voice.

“I want to kiss you.” Johnny said from the other side of the pool. She hummed. He narrowed his eyes, “Come here.” He wasn’t asking. She moved across the water, her bra sticking uncomfortably to her chest. He pulled her close to him, “Do you want me to touch you?” She hummed again. He held her chin in his hands, “Words.” His voice licked up her spine.

“Yes.” She breathed out.

“Where?”

“Everywhere.” 

Johnny took a sharp breath, tongue running across his lips. Her eyes drifted to the movement, looking back up seconds later.

“But?” He narrowed his eyes, suspicious of her intention.

She smirked, “I won’t touch you. Not till you ask.”

“Wretched girl.” He gave her a wicked smile, “Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, reaching his lips down to her neck. He licked a strip up her neck and she gasped out loud, her head falling back. He looked back to grin at her, before turning her around and going back to her neck. She rested her head back against his chest, jumping with a yelp when he grazed his teeth on the skin behind her neck. She felt him smile against her skin.

“As someone who claimed that time is their luxury, you sure are generous with it.” She winched when he bit down on her shoulder, soothing the skin with his tongue.

“I’m a very generous person.” He whispered, brushing his tongue on the shell of her ear.

She hummed, “So I see. Though I wish you were more generous about certain things over others.” He bit her earlobe, she mewled.

“I thought you wanted to learn self control?” He kissed behind her ear.

“Yes, but you seem like a man thoroughly well read in the subject.” She whined, “You can be exempt from this lesson.” She tried to keep up with his words while his mouth kept up its persistence.

“I would prefer to lead by example.” He bit the back of her neck, she clenched impossibly hard.

“And I would prefer you inside me.” She groaned. He laughed into her hair, kissing her spine lazily. 

She pulled away from him with a frown, turning to look at him, “Johnny Suh, I swear to god!” She huffed, he shifted to kiss her lips. She huffed against his lips, both annoyed and aroused by his incessant antics. He was seemingly an expert at it, bringing her just to the brink of irritation before driving her wild with need. She kept her hands firmly at her side, the urge to touch him making her light-headed.

In the meantime, his hands touched her bare skin. Her back, stomach, waist. He brushed his fingers on her abdomen, where the elastic of her bra dug into her skin, the thing felt like a hindrance. 

He pulled away from the kiss, a pleased look in his eyes. “Not even a little graze. You’re a diligent student.” He lifted his now swollen lips. 

Anger flared inside her, only making her want him more. “You’re a dick.” She pulled away from him, but he touched her arm and drew her back till her back was on his chest again.

“You deserve a reward for your tenacity.” He put his hand flat on her stomach, circling around her navel with his thumb. 

Then he slowly took his hand lower.

Every nerve in her body fired up in anticipation. She shivered when his thumb grazed the skin just above the elastic of her underwear, she huffed. She felt his other hand sneak between them, unbuckling the clasp of her bra. She sighed very audibly when it slid down her arms, too busy feeling the relief of it’s removal to feel shy at the moment.

“This,” His voice barely a breath. His palm grazed one of her breasts. “I’ve been waiting to do for a while.” He rolled her nipple between his fingers, she bucked up closer to his touch. His other hand brushed over her underwear, she dropped her head back to his shoulder. He slipped his fingers in to graze a finger up her slit, then down— his touch featherlight. She felt like she could weep. He parted her folds, the cold water around them touching her warm clit, making her grasp and also reminding her where she was.

“Johnny.” She said through gritted teeth. “Please.” Her voice dissolved into a moan when he pressed his finger against her clit hard.

Every nerve in her body felt like they had been lit on fire deliberately. He drew slow circles around the bundle of nerves. She lifted her hands instinctively, remembering her claim and putting it over her mouth instead.

“Touch me, (Y/N).” He whispered in her ear, the sound akin to a plea as he plunged a finger inside her. She didn’t have the sense to hesitate, threading her fingers through his hair.

She would have cum in moments, had he not been so distressingly slow. This slow, she felt every graze, every joint and every curl. When he added another finger, he remained loyal to his pace. The pressure between her legs felt unbearable.

“You’re so tight.” He groaned against her temples, “I’m going to make you feel so good, baby. I’ll make your long wait worth it.” He parted his fingers inside her, opening and closing till she felt her walls ease under his efforts. “I’ll make sure you feel good.” He kissed her temple, his thumb pressing into her clit, flicking the hood with his blunt nails.

Her orgasm built up slowly, so slow that she felt every twitch and every muscle tightening. She moaned out his name and he connected his lips to her, rubbing a thumb on her nipple which the other continued it’s ministrations on her clit. All of that combined with his fingers pumping slowly inside her felt too much. She felt moisture prickle on the corner of her eyes— tears of relief as her legs shook and her orgasm crashing through her body in multiple waves. She squirmed in his hold, grabbing his wrist to make him stop. He obeyed, bringing both his hands to her waist, turning her back to face him.

“How do we feel?” His face one of concern, his eyes soft, all traces of the menace he was moments ago tucked away. She gave him a smile.

“Good.” She confirmed, “Great.” She sighed.

Johnny gazed at her face for a second, “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. His brazen ease leaving her cheeks hot.

“So are you.” She laughed to herself.

“I think I’m rather handsome actually.” He grinned, “And sexy.” He winked.

“So sexy.” She was compelled to agree, closing her eyes and knitting her brows. Like the idea was too much. Johnny grinned a little more.

“Want to go upstairs?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“I genuinely thought you would never ask.” She frowned at him. He took her chin in his fingers to give her a chaste kiss, before lifting her in her arms.

“I can walk!” She looked up at him with wide eyes.

“I am aware.” Was all he said as he got out of the water.

“So put me down!” She felt herself blush.

“No. I know you can walk, I want to carry you anyway. It’s for my benefit. I want to enjoy the view.” He winked. She groaned and put her hands on her face, burying it in his chest and mumbling something. “What was that?” His voice was cocky.

“You like embarrassing people. It’s a deplorable habit.” She lifted her head to repeat herself and then hid her face again. Johnny just laughed.

He dropped her on the bed, an eager grin on his face as he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed. He raked his eyes over her body, like he was trying to memorise her features.

“Can I eat you out?” When he looked back at her face, his playful grin was replaced with an intent gaze. Johnny sat down on his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. She sat up and scooted closer to the edge, placing her feet on the floor and giving him a meaningful look.

“Johnny.” She looked at him seriously, “Listen to me. You’re absolutely without a doubt the most considerate lover I’ve ever encountered.” She put her palm on his cheek, he nuzzled into the touch and she mirrored the content smile that spread on his lips. “You’re very sweet and very charming.” She rubbed her thumb on his cheek. “But, I swear to god.” She laughed, “If you don’t put your penis inside my vagina right now, I’m going to slap you silly.”

“Is that a promise?” He raised his brows, trying to tease despite the blood that rushed into his face.

“Johnny!”

He laughed, “Alright, alright. I’ll give you this considerate dick.” She groaned at the words, rolling her eyes. “But there’s something I want to ask you first.” His eyes moved away from her face to look around the room.

“What?” She swallowed.

“I have to be in Hong Kong after this trip. It’s part of the reason why I got the week off.” He paused, shaking his head. “That’s irrelevant.” He scoffed, running his hand through his hair and taking her hands into his. “I’ll be there for a month. But when I come back.” He paused, releasing a nervous exhale and looking at her with soft eyes, “I want to see you again. I want to take you to my favourite restaurant, and then I want you to see you some more.” They both blinked at each other, the silent contemplations of vulnerability.

Johnny sat back, “I was going to wait to say this. But I don’t think I can, I think I’m a little whipped for you. Especially when you tell me to put my penis into your vagina.” She shoved his shoulder, a sound coming from her lips that were a mix of a groan and a laugh. 

Johnny laughed too. “I told you,” He spoke after their giggles died down. “I want to court you. And I meant it.” He smiled at her.

“You’re such a romantic aren’t you?” She smiled, feeling somewhere between the hope and dread that she had heard came with real feelings for a person. “One condition.” She looked at him.

“Yeah?”

“If you make me walk up the Vessel I will leave you there.”

The smile he gave her made her shiver, “Deal.” He gave her a lopsided grin, pushing back from her.

He stood up, motioning her to go up to the pillows with his index finger. She complied with a victorious smile. He put his knees on the mattress, crawling up to cage her body. He looked down at her with a smirk, searching her face.

“Ready?” He murmured. She nodded shyly, the boldness from moments ago already dissipating under his gaze. “When I saw you at the gym the other day, the unsolicited thought that plagued me was what you’d look like under me.” He smiled down at her, his words making her heart pick up it’s pace. He dropped his arm to his elbow, using the other to hold her cheek and kiss her. It was a brief kiss, but one that felt so impossibly intimate that her toes curled and goosebumps erupted all over her skin.

He kissed down her neck, taking a nipple in between his lips as his finger looped around the edge of her underwear, her fingers combed into his soft hair. He dragged the piece of fabric down till her shin and she kicked it off. When his hips ground into hers she gasped his name. He shifted his focus to her other breast, grinding his hips into her again and making curse words stumble out her lips, she wanted him to take his off too. His fingers parted her folds, teasing her hole with his thumb. She fisted his hair, her back lifting off the mattress. He stopped suddenly, pulling away and sitting back on his knees. She was already forming her annoyed response when he spoke.

“I need to go get my wallet.” He spoke like he remembered something. 

She sat up with an incredulous expression, both their faces flushed and breathing shallow. “What?” He breathed out, a little too dazed to keep up with him.

“I took condoms from the gift bag we gave Doyoung today. They’re in my wallet.” He ran his hands through his hair, still breathing fast.

“Oh.” She blushed, “Go.”

She sat in silence for a second, the air conditioning making her skin prickle. As her breathing calmed down, a smile spread across her face, then a soft laugh. There was something so incredibly thrilling and comfortable at the same time about Johnny. She remembered his face when he realised he didn’t have his wallet, covering her mouth to muffle her laugh.

When she heard footsteps come up the stairs she bit down on her lips too hard.

“What’s so funny?” He walked into the room, wearing just his briefs and looking so utterly irresistible.

“You.” Her laugh escaped her lips.

“I don’t know how to feel about you laughing at me while we stand here, very naked.” Even while he joked, his eyes explored her body with hunger.

“You aren’t naked yet.” She pointed at the piece of clothing that had overstayed its welcome.

“We can change that.” He tossed his wallet on the bed, leaning over to honour her request. “Will you take the condom out?” He said absentmindedly as he kicked his briefs off.

She turned to the square of black leather, swallowing and looking back up, “I don’t think I should touch your wallet.” A nervous laugh came out in the form of a huff. 

Johnny gave her a look of amusement, “I ask you to be my girlfriend and you think touching my wallet is going too far?”

For the shortest moment, she was too distracted by the view of his naked body; his dick spring up to his waist— angry red and too big. The next moment, his words seemed to register in her head.

She looked up at him, looking lost. “You want me to be your girlfriend?”

The laugh that left Johnny’s lips was of incredulous frustration, “Yes.” He said patiently, “I thought I was transparent but I guess something got lost in translation.” He teased with sarcasm. He gave her an endearing smile, “(Y/N) I think you’re fucking incredible and I want you to be my girlfriend.” He came closer towards the bed, “Now will you please take that pesky condom out so I can show you a very compelling reason why saying yes is in your best interests?” 

She scrambled to grab the wallet, opening it to search for what he wanted.

“The pocket in the middle.” He pointed, close enough to do it himself but still standing still. She was very aware that he was absolutely naked— she was too, but between the two bodies, his was the one she wasn’t used to seeing. It took her longer than she was proud of to finally produce a string of foil packets, at least five.

“You came prepared.” She stared at them for a second before tearing one off.

“I’m an optimist.” The words made her laugh, throwing her head back. She handed him the packet, holding it in her hand firmly even after he grabbed it. He looked up at her in question.

“I do,” She inhaled, “for the record.” She felt a little dizzy.

“What?” He furrowed his brows, looking down at her.

“Want to be your girlfriend.” His eyes grew slightly, before he smirked.

“Are you sure you don’t at least want a demo first?” A smile tugged at his lips.

“No, I think I’ll take it. Something tells me the parts work fine.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” He leaned into her, kissing the corner of her mouth before pushing back to look at her again. He smiled, kissing her in earnest after that.

“Up.” He spoke against her lips, standing back up and lifting the foil packet. She scooted up to the pillow. A frown fell over Johnny’s features for a moment as he thought about something.

“This could be a bit uncomfortable. You haven’t done this in a while and I’m a little–” He paused then laughed, a little embarrassed. “I’m not trying to be cocky. I just don’t want to hurt you.” He explained. 

Her eyes drifted to his dick. She swallowed a lump forming in her throat, as her eyes wandered over the thick veins on his shaft, the red tip— he was big. It seemed to twitch under her scrutiny, despite herself she thought she could feel her mouth water a little. Johnny stood and waited patiently. She dragged her eyes back up to his face.

“Just go slow.” She requested.

“Of course.” He nodded, tearing the packet open.

She lay back on her elbows, watching him sheath his cock. She rubbed her thighs together. When his knees dipped the mattress, she looked up at his darkening eyes.

“Now. Where were we?” His predatory gaze zeroed in on her face as he managed to cage her under him again. 

He kissed her deeper this time, she craned her neck to facilitate his endeavour. One elbow propped him up while the other caressed her side, making her shiver and reach out to grab his shoulders. Everything about him in the moment felt too perfect for her fragile mind to completely grasp. The way his back flexed under her touch, his smooth skin, his intoxicating smell and his soft, plush lips all made her feel like she was bursting from the seams.

He pulled away from her lips, a pout falling on her face at the sudden lack of his lips on hers. He laughed, kissing the corner of her mouth and plunging two fingers inside her easily. Her eyes fluttered shut as her lips parted softly.

“Relax a little for me baby.” He urged her, his voice a low hum. She wanted to tell him that it would be unfathomable to even ask her that when he looked at her like there was currently no one else in the world. But she gave him a quick nod and exhaled softly, easing her muscles into the bed. He popped his fingers out, plunging them in faster.

“That feels good.” She mewled as her words made him pick up pace.

“I can’t wait to feel what it's like to be inside you.” He added under finger, her legs twitching from the sensation. “Do you want to cum like this?” He asked. The vigorous shake of her head she gave him made him laugh, she wanted him inside her. “Alright.” He pulled his fingers out and despite it being her request she whined, her eyes fluttering open. He brought his fingers to his lips and she was sure that she was about to go insane as his tongue poked out to lick them.

He entered her slowly, his eyes cemented on her face. She willed her eyes to stay open as he entered her, she wanted to see him. The feeling of being filled this excruciatingly slow made her toes curl, Johnny bit his bottom lip. She could feel him fill her so completely, every little crevice slowly brimming with the sensation of him. Her fingers dug into his back. Johnny’s eyebrows furrowed, his lips parting softly. He stopped, searching her face for an answer to a silent question. When she nodded a choked sigh left his lips, slowly he went deeper. Her back arched as she felt him so deep inside her, her body dissolving into pure nerves and sensation.

“Just a little more.” His voice was strained, the veins on his neck tight. She gave him a nod, her eyes fluttering closed when she finally felt him balls deep. Johnny sighed, falling closer to her body, littering kisses all over her face, her neck. “Such a good baby. Taking me so well.” He licked her clavicle. “You’re so tight, (Y/N).” He whined against her neck, “I think I’m going to lose my mind.” He sighed, staying in place and giving her the time she needed.

She wanted to remember this feeling forever, of feeling so full. Sex hadn’t been something that felt intimate to her before, it was an impersonal act of pleasure when people became creatures of basic instincts.

Yet, everything about this moment felt more intimate than anything she could recall. The soft look in his eyes, the patience of his movement, the feeling of him inside her. She wanted to weep into her shoulders and hold him in her arms.

“Move.” She whispered in his ears, kissing the lobe softly. He whined again, shaking his head forcefully. 

As he pulled out, they both gasped. His next thrust was smoother, the one after that even more sure. Her hand dropped to the sheet from his shoulder, fisting it till she felt pinpricks on her knuckles. He pulled back, balancing his frame of a single elbow, the other grabbing her waist. His thrusts got harder as he maintained his slow pace.

“Fuck.” She gasped, forehead gathering in focus.

“I’m trying, baby believe me.” He groaned. She opened her eyes, a mix of a chuckle and a whimper leaving her lips at the grin on his face.

“I like when you call me that.” She admitted, “Baby.” She whined as he seemed to find an angle that hit the right spot inside her, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “You like being my baby?” 

She nodded.

“I’m going to take such good care of you baby. Now and for as long as you let me.” He kissed her neck, his dick twitching inside from his own words. She moaned his name softly.

“I think I’m going to.” Her face twisted.

“Look at me, (Y/N). Touch me please.” He growled.

She forced her eyes open, “I don’t want to scratch your skin.” She pouted, he snapped his hips and she gasped.

“Yes you do, and do I. Hold me.” He cooed, bringing his arm up to brush her hair away from her face. She obeyed, his hand going to his back— her nails digging into his skin. 

Johnny moaned her name. “Can I go faster?” His brows creased further, the words a plea.

“Yes.” She gasped out, “Please.”

She clenched around his as her orgasm shattered through her body. Johnny’s face fell into her neck, gasping as her walls clenched around him repeatedly. His thrusts got sloppier and quicker as he reached his own high, her name a repeated symphony on his lips.

His body relaxed on top of her for a moment, the weight thrusting the air out of her lungs even though she was certain it wasn’t the full extent of it. He left a string of sloppy kisses on her cheek and neck till a giggle bubbled to her throat, his own chuckle was a throaty one.

When he pushed off her, she was starkly aware of his absence. The next moment, he put his arm around her waist and dragged her close to him. She suddenly felt shy, her eyes focused on his chest, tracing her fingers. He laughed his breathy disjointed laugh she was coming to adore, embracing her closer to his chest. He kissed her forehead, his thumb caressing her back.

“What is your go-to meal after a bad day?” He hummed against her hair.

She looked up at him, a quizzical grin on her face. “That’s the first thing you say?” She scoffed.

He laughed again, “Well I already took a giant leap of faith before sleeping with you and asked you to date me after knowing you exactly five day.” He squeezed her frame, “So I thought I’d lighten up the pillow talk.” She scoffed again, but her cheeks tinted red.

“Anything that takes me over an hour to make would do.” She answered his question after a moment’s thought. The look he gave her made her laugh, “Here me out. I usually listen to music, or maybe a podcast. It’s an hour or more of not thinking about anything other than the task at hand, and in the end there’s physical evidence of your labour. Evidence that is also delicious.” 

Understanding seeped into Johnny’s eyes. He smiled at her with a nod, “I think I get it.” She kissed his chin.

Day 6

Johnny stirred awake with a tug on his shoulder, squinting as the morning light first illuminated his view. (Y/N) smiled down at his sleepy face, standing over him.

“Why are you already out of bed?” His voice was a sleepy groan of protest, pouting his lower lip.

“We’ll be late for breakfast.” She explained.

Johnny gave her a relaxed smile, “Who cares? Come back in bed.” He turned over to grab at the air between them. 

She breathed out a light laugh at his antics.

“Come on! Don’t you want a cup of coffee?” She tempted him.

“I want you more.” 

She cursed her heart for picking up at something so cheesy, a humorous groan coming from her as she cringed at his words. Johnny rolled over to lay on his back and laughed.

“Okay fine.” He surrendered, sitting up and letting the sheet fall to his waist, “But on the condition we come back and get right back.” He patted the mattress.

Her eyes roamed his chest, wondering just how this man was currently naked in front of her. Then she registered his words, “You want to keep the villa?” She blinked.

“Yeah. How else am I going to do the things I want to you?” He asked like it was obvious. 

Her breath stuttered, “Fine. But you let me pay half of whatever fortune this place costs.” She gestured to the room with her arm.

“No.” He rubbed his sleepy face.

“Johnny.” She tried to reason.

“Please,” He whined. “I want to take care of you.”

She chuckled, sitting on the bed beside him and putting her fingers on his cheek. “You can do that in other ways. In ways that matter more. I can afford to pay for it, that’s something I’m immensely proud of. So let me?”

He chewed on his lips for a second but nodded at her, her smile growing wider.

Breakfast was a mistake.

She had made it a point to text Joohyun about where she was last night. It was to ensure that her friends weren’t under the assumption that she drowned in the ocean. Upon entering the restaurant, she suddenly wished she had drowned. 

A chorus of claps with a few cheers came from a set of tables in the corner of the room. A few other guests and Doyoung and Sooyoung’s parents turned towards the commotion with confusion.

“You were right.” She grabbed Johnny’s arm, “Let’s just go back now.” Johnny laughed at her reddening cheeks.

“Let’s go get some coffee.” He reminded her. She wanted to groan.

It was with a lot of reluctance that she walked up to the corner where their collective friends sat together, grinning at the both of them. She tried to hide behind Johnny, but he just put his arms on her shoulder. 

At the moment, she hated him.

“Well well, look who decided to finally show up.” Yeri laughed. (Y/N) turned to bury her face in Johnny’s shoulders.

“We were all making bets about whether you would show up or not.” Yuta sniggered.

“I didn’t want to.” Johnny shrugged, “(Y/N) insisted we come for the coffee.” He raised the hand in which he carried his cup.

“Wow, this must be serious if Johnny Suh wanted to skip his morning caffeine.” Taeil poked at Haechan who nodded with mock surprise.

“Guys.” Johnny frowned before he changed it to a grin, “Don’t tease my girlfriend.” 

“Girlfriend?!” Seulgi and Jungwoo shrieked together. The rest also had surprise etched all over their face.

“Kill me.” She groaned, trying to get Johnny’s arm off her shoulder but he didn’t budge.

Johnny just shrugged, no sign of hesitation or regret on his face. “When I know, I know.” It oddly comforted her.

“Alright, we’re going to go find something to eat.” Johnny waved at them.

“You will come back right here so Joohyun and I can grill you, understood?” Sooyoung’s threat was meaningful. “You have another thing coming if you think I’ll let you dazzle our best friend into this without a thorough interview. Okay?” (Y/N) had to admit, even she felt intimidated by the expression Sooyoung had on her face. Johnny swallowed, turning to give (Y/N) a look that begged for help.

She just gave him a shrug, “You brought this upon yourself. Also, they have the standing authority on this, I can’t do anything about it.”

“You don’t think it’s too soon to be her boyfriend?” Sooyoung spoke after she took a sip of her juice, “And don’t turn to her with every question.” She snapped, Johnny jerked his head back to face Sooyoung. “(Y/N) is very capable but she isn’t all that experienced with dating.”

“Sooyoung.” (Y/N) sighed.

“I don’t intend to overwhelm, (Y/N). I just think we’d be good together.” He shrugged.

“Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be so sure of that?” Joohyun’s tone was softer, but the question was no less blunt.

“No, not for me. If she decides later that it was then it’ll be an honest effort on both out parts. I was merely honest about my feelings.” He dropped his cutlery and looked up at them both confidently. (Y/N) lifted her hand to squeeze his.

“Damn.” Jungwoo mumbled, “He’s good.”

“Will you choose her over work?” Sooyoung followed.

“Sooyoung.” (Y/N) warned.

“What? You should know these things!” Sooyoung huffed.

“He doesn’t need to pick anything. These things can exist in tandem, I’m not going to ask anybody to pick me over something they’ve built for years, that’s unfair.” She furrowed her brows.

“(Y/N)–” Johnny turned to her.

“No. Don’t answer that. If you asked me the same question I’d kick you.” She was still frowning, Johnny’s lips turned up in amusement.

“Fine.” Sooyoung surrendered.

“I’ll never do anything that hurts her.” Johnny said softly, giving Sooyoung a reassuring smile.

“He really wouldn’t” Doyoung urged Sooyoung, “Johnny doesn’t have an inconsiderate bone in his body. He gave up a very important merger to come for our wedding. Something he has to go to Hong Kong to fix.”

“He once cancelled on a big client because I broke my arm and didn’t have anyone to drive me to the hospital.” Mark added.

“Guys.” Johnny mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“She’s slandering you, dude. Let them say it.” Haechan chimed in.

“It’s not slander.” Johnny sighed.

“She is my wife.” Doyoung glared at Haechan.

“I see that we’ve decided to attack me now.” Haechan slinked away.

“I know what I’m doing, Sooyoung.” (Y/N) reassured her friend, a gentle smile on her face.

“Good. Because if he hurts you I’ll kill him, but I’ll also break your bones.” Sooyoung said with a smile.

Doyoung gave Johnny an apologetic look. 

“That could have gone better.” Johnny finally spoke when they left the restaurant.

“She’s just a little protective. Don’t mind her, she’s always been the one who worries about me the most, when I moved for University, I’d spend all my holidays at their house because going back home was too expensive. Her mother is like a mother to me.” She stumbled over her words.

“I want her to like me.” Johnny’s smile was a little sad.

“She will.” She reassures, “She does. Sooyoung’s just being all business to intimidate you.” She scoffed. If Johnny wasn’t convinced, he didn’t push.

“See you in a bit?” He smiled at her instead.

She entered the room she shared with Joohyun to pack her bag. She found Joohyun sitting at the small table across the room, when she saw her she stood up.

“I’ve come to take my stuff.” (Y/N) paused, blushing. “I– , uhh, we’re sharing a room.” She looked to the floor. She didn’t know why it felt so strange to talk about this. Her friends knew her completely, her secrets, embarrassments and her insecurities.

(Y/N) sighed, “Sorry. Talking about these things, about a guy. It’s still very new to me.” She laughed.

Joohyun came up to her, “Are you leaving because you’re mad? I swear Sooyoung didn’t mean to come on so strong. You know her, she knows you’re smart and that you won’t do anything unless you haven’t thought it over. But she thinks you’ll be hurt and go back to avoiding relationships. We all want you to be happy, that’s all.” Joohyun let the torrent of words out.

(Y/N) gave her a smile, feeling very touched, “I know that. I’m not angry at all, that’s not why I’m going. I like him, I really do. I don’t avoid relationships because I’m scared of getting hurt, I just wanted to find someone who I can be in a relationship with.” She hugged Joohyun, “I love you guys, and I’m so glad that I have people who worry about me this much.

“I like him.” Joohyun grinned when they pulled away, “I think you make a good pair. Enjoy your youth, (Y/N).” She squeezed her shoulders making (Y/N) snort.

“Alright, mom. You guys are acting like you’re losing me. Don’t worry, you’ll still be number one for me.” She grinned.

“He makes you happy?” Joohyun questioned. 

(Y/N) thought about that for a moment: Johnny’s effortless attitude, his unapologetic honesty and unabashed intimacy. She thought about his teasing and his affection.

“He does.” There was confidence in (Y/N)’s voice.

“Then you have all of our blessings.”

When (Y/N) walked into the villa, Johnny was sitting in the sitting room, crouched over and deep in some thought. He turned to look up at her, giving her a soft smile and patting the space beside him.

“Should I be worried?” She joked as she put her suitcase to the side and sat down.

“I don’t think it was right to rush you,” He breathed in. “In hindsight.”

She huffed and sat back, “Do you also believe that I’m not capable of making a decision that works for me?” Her back deflated.

“No that isn’t what–” He looked away.

“You asked me. I considered it, and I realised that I like the idea. Asking isn’t rushing. Sooyoung wasn’t there so I can let it go. You were.” She turned to face him.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve just been thinking about it.” He groaned, pushing a hand through his hair before stopping to consider a thought. He took a glance at her, “For sometime now, I’ve been very aware of the fact that something’s been missing in my life. I try not to ponder over it because it felt futile. But getting to know you,” A smile tugged at his lips, one he pushed back. “You seem like someone who belongs in the crevices of my life.” He looked down at the couch, “But that isn’t fair to you. You aren’t a clog, you’re a person.”

“Johnny–” Her voice was soft.

 “The idea of what you can be for me is not something I am allowed to impart on you.” He sighed.

“Look at me.” She brushed her fingers on his cheek. He fluttered his eyes up, devastatingly vulnerable in the way he looked at her. “We’ll figure it out. You aren’t wrong for doing anything, we just need to try so we can replace ideas with who we actually are. Hmm?” Her voice was warm.

“I just feel like, I’m giving you something you don’t need. You seem like you’re absolutely fine the way you are.” His smile was sad.

“People shouldn’t need other people. They should want them.” She furrowed her brows, “I think that’s why I like you so much.” Her cheeks dusted pink at the confession. “You’re your own person, and you happened to want someone in your life. Not because you feel empty, but because life can be fuller than it is now.”

“You don’t think that’s unfair?” He questioned, eyes widening.

“No. I think it’s perfect.” She laughed effervescently, taking his hands into hers. “We complete ourselves, another person can only compliment us. A person can be whole in their own right, but life feels better when you have that whole to share with others.”

There was a silence between them for a moment that didn’t press down to stifle. They watched each other, slow and deliberate. 

“I’m a dumbass.” Johnny said suddenly, the words after the long silence making her laugh out loud, “And you’re officially the smartest person I know.”  Johnny came closer, his nose brushing against hers.

“Smarter than you isn’t smartest.” She joked. His jaw fell open, sarcastic shock on his face. She smacked his shoulder, he laughed.

“You know.” His voice was suddenly deeper, eyes darker. “If my inferior brain is recalling correctly.” She giggled at his words, “I think I have an overdue task from last night.” He hummed.

She squinted her eyes, giving him a questioning side eye.

“I said I’d eat you out.” He licked his lips.

Johnny lay on his side, looking up at her. She lay on her stomach, propping her abdomen up on her elbows. Johnny’s fingers brushed up and down her bare back in a slow rhythm she was getting used to.

“I once worked on a policy for two and a half years, only to have it tabled.” She smiled without humour, still bitter at the memory.

Johnny winced, “Okay that’s definitely worse that mine.” He confessed. “My worst experience at work was when I flew to Sydney for an emergency in under an hour of the phone call, only to have the IPO delayed. I didn’t even end up getting the client.” 

She grimaced, both of them laughing.

“Sucks doesn’t it? When you realise that you break yourself repeatedly for things that end up not mattering in the larger scheme of things.” She sighed.

“What you do matters.” Johnny sounded indignant, “You just can’t see it in front of you because the kind of change that has any real consequence is slow.”

She snorted, “You know the majority of the time I do things that are purely performative? So companies can pretend they’re more progressive than they are?” She snorted again, looking away from his eyes to the sheets under her. “It pays better to have no morals apparently.” She scoffed.

“You’re saying that to an investment banker.” He sighed, turning over to face the ceiling. He snaked his hand under her, pressing her flush against his side, “I really started working thinking I’d be different, that I’d help new companies get the genuine backing they deserve. Now everytime I liquidate a failed business, I get one step further from the person I wanted to be.” His eyes drifted to somewhere distant. The air conditioner whirring back to start automatically filling the silence of the room. 

She watched his throat bob, traced the lines of his face with her eyes. “Growing up sucked.” She whispered. Johnny smiled, giving her a distracted nod. “But it’s a part of it. You have to liquidate, cut their losses. It’s the burden of being in the position of making the tough calls.” She tried to comfort him, knowing too well how the disappointment of not living up to your expectations felt. He held her tighter, squeezing the non-existent space between them.

“You too.” He gave her a look, “Just because companies are performative doesn’t make you so.” She gave him a look of genuine gratitude.

A phone call had cut their moment of bliss short. Johnny apologised profusely for some work that was thrust on him. Repeated assurances later, she told him that she’d get some left over work done too. That seemed to reassure him, both of them spending the rest of the day in bed with the sound of laptops clicking in tandem. His presence was as comforting as it was reassuring, it was never easier to be busy in company.

A little after noon, her phone rang.

“Yeah?” She asked Jungwoo.

“Don’t you want to have lunch? I get that you must be busy, but at least store up on some food for the gymnastics you’re no doubt pulling.” She could practically picture him wiggling his eyebrows.

She rolled her eyes, “No, we’re busy.” She stated.

“Yes, that’s what I said-” Jungwoo clicked his tongue.

“With work. Office work.” She added the last part to avoid any room for confusion. Jungwoo seemed at a loss for a moment, uncharacteristically silent. A snort left her lips despite herself.

“Is this some kind of very specific foreplay?” He finally managed to say.

“I’m hanging up on you now.” She deadpanned.

“Have fun.” His voice was sing-song to annoy her.

“Who was that?” Johnny looked up from his screen to ask.

“Jungwoo.” She scoffed, “Want to order some lunch?” She asked and he gave her an affirmative nod.

Day 7

Sooyoung looked like she was going to break down into tears. Both Doyoung and (Y/N) juggled between words of reassurances for her and glaring at Johnny.

“(Y/N) was supposed to walk down the aisle with Haechan. You were paired with Seulgi.” She gave Johnny a defeated look. Sooyoung stood at the edge of the balcony of her room, in a hotel robe. The makeup artist was running late and Johnny’s simple request to accompany (Y/N) down the aisle sent the nervous bride off the edge.

“I will walk with Haechan, Sooyoung.” (Y/N) urged her, really not wanting this to be the thing that ruined the morning of her wedding.

“No.” Sooyoung blurted, pausing to tug at the skin around her thumb with her teeth. Seulgi got up from the bed to tug her hand away— something Sooyoung had made her promise to do to save her manicure. “We can do this.” Sooyoung looked up, light filling into her eyes. “You aren’t the best man or maid of honour. It’s fine, it’s completely fine.” She sounded too cheerful. “Taeyong will still walk down with my sister first.” Taeyong gave him a quick nod.

“Sooyoung–” Doyoung’s voice faded, a little concerned.

“Are you sure?” (Y/N) winced.

“Yes.” Sooyoung smiled, before laughing. “It’s my wedding day. Irrespective of who walks with who. I’m walking out with the love of my life.” She laughed again. Doyoung stuttered, looking away as his cheeks flushed red.

“Fine. I’m giving you what you want.” Sooyoung turned to Johnny, who gave her a grateful smile, “Consider it an apology for threatening you yesterday.” Johnny grinned, giving her a nod.

“Now go.” She turned back to Doyoung, “This is bad luck.” She stated.

The next time (Y/N) saw Johnny, she was ready to tell him off for the stunt he pulled in the morning. But, and she absolutely blamed the setting they were in, when she finally saw him she couldn’t bring herself to do anything but give him a shy smile.

It was a perfect afternoon despite it’s hold ups. The tide was higher than anticipated so they had to shift the aisle to a flower garden that overlooked the beach instead of the sand. The blooms of many colours complimenting the blue and white motif Sooyoung had chosen better than the initial beach. 

Soft music played as Johnny walked up to her, giving her his elbow to put her arm into.

“You look beautiful.” Johnny whispered into her ear.

“You too.” She said, making him laugh.

Even as they reached the end of the aisle and went to opposite ends, he kept his eyes on her. They held their gazes until the music changed, announcing the bride’s arrival. (Y/N) looked down the aisle to her best friend, her face lit with abundant happiness and looking more beautiful than a goddess in her wedding dress.

She turned back to glance at Doyoung, a weight lifting off her chest when she saw his eyes rimmed red. She knew Sooyoung deserved no less. The sight was one of hope, of the possibilities of a future, of contentment. When she turned back to Johnny, he was staring at her still. The chairs shuffled as Sooyoung reached the end of the aisle, everybody sat back in place for the ceremony to begin. 

Johnny’s lips spread into a slow smile when their eyes met.

Epilogue

(Y/N) walked into her office on an early fall morning, a month after coming back from the wedding, to find what looked like an arrangement of candy.

“What is this?” She asked her assistant who looked up and then beamed at her.

“You tell me. It’s for you!” She sounded excited.

(Y/N) came closer to the thing, too large and too well arranged. She picked up the card tucked under a box of strawberries covered in chocolates.

‘Because you don’t like flowers, chocolates were the next cheesy thing I could think of. I’m back and I realised on my way to the airport I didn’t take your number. Dinner? - Your maybe boyfriend, Johnny.’

Her lips tugged as she tried not to smile too much. Her assistant’s phone rang, making her turn away rather reluctantly.

“Hello?” She looked up at her boss, pointing the phone at her. “It’s for you.” She walked up to the receiver, taking it from her assistant.

“Hello?” She asked.

A small groan whispered from the other end, “I’ve missed your voice.” She had to grab the desk. “They told me the gift was delivered so I thought I’d call. Your assistant told me you come in after nine.”

She felt a little at loss, “How did you get this number?” She questioned.

“My assistant did actually, very kind of him. He found your organisation and then your office.” He sounded proud. “I had to do something since I didn’t even remember to take your phone number.” He huffed.

“You could have just asked Sooyoung.” She laughed, avoiding her assistant’s face as her eyes lit up. She pointed at the arrangement before pointing at the phone, mouthing something that she assumed was a question. (Y/N) gave her a nod.

Johnny clicked his tongue, “I wanted you to give me your number. Incase you had second thoughts.” He paused, “So?” He questioned.

“So what?”

Johnny sighed, “Dinner, (Y/N). You and me.” He broke down the sentence, she grinned.

“Yes.” She didn’t hesitate. 

It was an early spring night when (Y/N) had gotten home from work. She took off her shoes and dropped her bag to the floor with unfocused motions. As she reached across the sitting room, her phone rang. She had to go all the way back for it.

“Hmm?” She spoke into the device, a little surprised herself by the fatigue in her own voice.

“That bad huh?” Johnny chuckled.

“They tabled it again.” She sighed, trying to level the shake in her voice and blink away the tears that threatened to spill. There was a silence on his end, she heard the echoes of his walking cease. 

Then his steps picked up again, “I just got off work.” He said casually. “I’m coming over to eat whatever you’re going to make.” She laughed at his words.

“I can’t believe you remember that.” She grinned.

“I’m a good listener.” She should practically hear him shrug, “And an excellent boyfriend.” He reminded her, she heard the smile in his voice for real this time.

When (Y/N) answered the door, Johnny gave her a smile. Lifting the box he was carrying.

“You liked the cake from this bakery, so I thought I’d pick one up. It’s cream cheese. I got an almond croissant just in case you didn’t.” He gave her a peck on the lips as he walked into her home. “It smells amazing.” He beamed.

She smiled at him, unsaid words of gratitude on her face that he seemed to understand. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it beside hers and then loosened the tie around his neck.

“It’ll take an hour for it to finish cooking. I’m done with it otherwise.” She announced. 

Johnny took a few steps closer, arm snaking around her waist, “I can think of a few things we can do till then.” His lips brushed her ears.

It was an afternoon in late autumn. Johnny picked up a box of cookies from an aisle, looking it over for a second before putting it into the cart.

“A year I’ve known you, and I still can’t get used to how you will pick up literally anything while shopping.” She poked his ribs. Johnny put his arm around her shoulders, shrugging.

“It looked nice.” He mumbled.

“What if you don’t like it?” She questioned.

“I won’t know unless I try it, will I?” He hummed.

Her huff was a silent yield.

“Do you think I should get the liquid detergent or the powder one?” She questioned, eyes focused on the bottom aisle with the culprits in question in her line of sight.

“What’s the difference?” Johnny sounded confused, standing beside her and following her gaze like it would help answer his question.

“Liquid feels nicer, and is generally easier to use. Powder lasts longer.” She explained.

Johnny hummed thoughtfully, “Liquid sounds like the better bet to me.” He answered like the choice was an obvious one.

She huffed, “You act so spoiled sometimes.” She said incredulously. “I’ll have to get two if I get the liquid because I won’t have the time if I run out of detergent mid-week.” She stomped her foot slightly. An amused smile spread on Johnny’s face. “Two is heavier.”

“It’s just cloth soap. Get two if you have to, I’m going to carry it to your apartment anyway.” He snorted when she gave him an unconvinced frown, “And since it’s obvious to me by now, take the powder since that’s what you would have taken away.”

(Y/N) seemed pleased, turning to pick up the packet of powder detergent.

Johnny huffed, “Brat.”

She placed the bag in the trolley, turning to him with a raised eyebrow, “Excuse me?”

Johnny scoffed, “That doesn’t work on me. Save your intimidating gazes for work and the people who get too close on the subway.” He raised his brow back. 

Her lower lip stuck out as she looked a little flustered on being called out like that. Johnny laughed stepping closer to her.

“Brat.” He reaffirmed.

“Shut up.” She tried to hold back the whine as her cheeks heated up, “I am not!” She nudged him with her elbow.

“Don’t deny it.” He reprimanded, grabbing the string of the hoodie she wore to draw her closer, his hoodie. “You’re cute. But a brat nonetheless.”

“Oh my god.” She groaned with embarrassment. “This is why Mark refuses to go out in public with you anymore, do you know that?.” She pushed him away.

“See?” Johnny chuckled, pointing to her actions as proof of his statement.

She laughed, “Fine!” She sounded exasperated, “I am then. What will you do? Spank me?” She scoffed. She expected him to drop it, instead something shifted in his gaze.

“(Y/N).” His voice dropped lower than her stomach at his voice.

“Yes?” She intended to sound casual, instead her words came out a squeak.

“Would you like me to spank you?” He put a hand on her waist.

Fuck. She thought. The buzz of the lights above them and the occasional voice over the speakers along with the murmur of people made her very aware that they were inside a supermarket.

“Would you like to spank me?” She deflected his statement.

He squeezed the hand on her waist, making her jump slightly. They were in a supermarket on a Saturday afternoon.

“That’s not what I asked.” He snapped softly. She bit her lip at the authority in his voice. “Would you like it?” His eyes burned into hers.

Slowly, she nodded at him. Chewing her lips, she decided that now was a better time than ever to test a suspicion she had for a few months. “I’d love it, I think.” She paused, her heart beating and her cheeks burning with a mix of excitement and mortification. “Daddy.”

She wanted the ground to swallow her. Instead Johnny groaned with such delicious desperation that her stomach flipped.

“You.” He took a slow breath, taking another dangerous look at her. “Are going to pay for that.” The words struggled their way out. “Fuck, (Y/N). I can’t believe you just said that.” He combed his fingers through his hair, the words were somewhere between a growl and a gasp.

“Me neither.” She squeezed her eyes, groaning at her own horror.

“Let’s go home.” He huffed, “I want.” He paused, “I need to go home.” He slipped his hand to hers, holding it and giving it a squeeze.

She almost said yes, her breathing too shallow for her brain to have the adequate oxygen for coherent thoughts. But she sighed, shaking her head like she was trying to shake away the fog.

“You know I don’t have a costco card. I need to finish shopping. Otherwise I’m going to run out of dish soap mid-week” She begged, disappointed at her own conscientious response. To her surprise and Johnny’s credit, he nodded. Taking a step back, Johnny ran a hand through his hair, fixing his denim jacket and then giving her a soft smile like nothing ever happened.

She stared at the aisle out of her reach, the box of tea she was looking for on a shelf beyond her reach. She glanced back to find Johnny looking intently at a label. She scoffed. The only time he was particular about what he purchased was coffee and wine.

She glanced back at the aisle, deciding to risk the attempt at stretching up to get it while he was occupied. She didn’t want to hear the teasing at the moment. She was just out of reach when his arm wrapped around her, lifting up to assist her effort. She looked at him when he placed her back on her feet, bracing herself for the smirk. But his eyes were still glued to whatever coffee he was trying to scrutinise. She frowned.

“Are you seriously thinking of getting grocery store coffee?” She asked him.

He looked up at her with curiosity on his face, “I don’t remember the last time I had some.” The disgusted face she gave him made him laugh. “It says it’s decaf, so I thought i’d get it to try.” Her expression twisted further.

“Please you’re breaking my heart right now. It’s pre ground as well.” She looked affronted. Johnny laughed, putting the bag back where he found it.

“This is why I love you.” He chuckled, walking towards the trolley.

“You what?”

 She wanted to slap herself. He said it so casually, like it wasn’t the first time he had said that; while she felt like every single inch of her was firing up.

Johnny sighed, like he sensed her panic. Coming closer towards her and taking her hand in his. “I don’t expect you to say it back immediately, say when you mean it. When you know you feel it too.” He paused, “Or don’t. Either way, I had to let you know how I feel.” 

She had to kiss him, grocery store with a weekend crowd be damned. It was a reassurance, telling him that if he was already there, she was on the way.

It was late in the night in the middle of winter. It snowed outside while they sat wrapped in a huge blanket in front of Johnny’s fireplace. He kissed the back of her neck, her head tilting to the side for his benefit. Their skin was warm against each other and it was easy to forget that it was the coldest night of the year.

“I have to be in the capital next week.” She said as his lips started their journey down her spine. She shifted, turning to him. “I wouldn’t have gone, but I have a meeting with someone and I think I can get an education bill squeezed in.” She put a hand on her chest.

“Okay.” He gave her a smile, too generous.

“I’m going to miss your birthday.” Her eyes drifted, pained.

Johnny’s smile didn’t falter, his arms tightening around her waist and raising her higher on his lap. “I can fly in for the day. You can take me to that chilli place you claim is the best you’ve had. I still think the place in Chicago is better, but we can wait for you to have that.” He chuckled, before his eyes turned to something more tender, “I don’t care where I am or what we do, I just want to spend it with you.” He stated.

She kissed him with such sudden urgency that he almost fell over, an arm quickly going behind him to keep them both steady. 

She pushed back, a wide grin on her face, “I love you, you know that?”

“Of course.” He hummed, unfazed seemingly by the confession. 

She understood why, there were times when words truly were unnecessary in the face of other things. She kissed him again, arms wrapping around his neck to tug him closer to her.

It was an early summer morning when (Y/N) rolled over in bed. Johnny’s arms pulled her closer wordlessly, a small huff leaving her at the sudden movement.

She rolled back to face him, “I can’t believe it's already Monday.” She sighed, pushing the hair out of his face. Johnny sighed, as the words slowly registered in his sleepy head.

“Don’t go.” His voice was a soft huff.

She chuckled, “I have to go to work.” She brushed her knuckles against his cheek, a small pout forming on her face nonetheless.

“No.” He paused, looking at her carefully for a moment, “I mean don’t go back to your apartment. Move in with me.” He turned over to lie on his side, still looking at her.

“What?” She felt caught off-guard.

“It’s closer to your work. I have that costco card you covet so much.” He grinned. “And you know what a fabric conditioner is.” She snorted at his words, making him grin. “Plus, I have a coffee grinder.” He said like it was a grand prize— and he was right.

His hand went to her face, thumb brushing her upper lip and his grin turning into something softer. “We both know time is a luxury for us. I want to spend each moment I can with you. I want to come home to you and wake up to your face every morning.” His eyes traced over her face.

“Every morning?” She smiled.

Johnny hummed with affirmation, “Every morning. Someday I’m going to bite the bullet and ask you to spend the rest of your life with me.” A lopsided grin formed on his face when her breathing hitched, “But for now. Just move in with me.” He questioned.

She felt a little winded, his confessions always as effortless as his very disposition. But with him she had learned something, love was supposed to be exactly that— effortless.

“Okay.” She nodded, “To the moving in.” She added, “The rest we can discuss at a better time.” Johnny smiled, giving her a nod and pulling her back into his arms.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Hereby requesting smutty prompt 8 with Mr Thor Odinson, please, m'lady! ❤️

Inappropriate

A/N: Why I’m so glad you requested this @darklydeliciousdesires ❤️ Hope you like it!

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, fluff.

Word count: 1.3k

Requests and Challenges

Thor Taglist: @raspberrymama @bitchycherryblossomlove @jennie22feona @innerpaperexpertcloud @thorfanficwriter @darklydeliciousdesires

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Tags are open folks! Send me an ask or DM if you wish to be in any of these lists :))

.

It was no surprise that the God of Thunder was a God when it came to other things as well. He was sex on legs basically and everybody was aware of it.

You were partly to blame for that, given that you made no efforts of keeping those explicit moans and screams to yourself. It was next to impossible.

It was also quite impossible to keep your hands to yourself, and you were both to blame for it. So much so that Tony made you both swear off of sex on missions after Steve Rogers complained about the ‘inappropriate incident’ to him one day, red faced and mortified.

But as the saying goes all forbidden things have a secret charm, it turned out to be all the more difficult to keep it in your pants.

Tonight was no different.

The team was on an outdoor mission that faced a few setbacks which required taking shelter in an abandoned warehouse for the night.

The air inside was hot and sticky and there wasn’t the slightest breeze to offer relief, the skin-hugging unitard didn’t help much either.

After tossing and turning on the dusty floor for several minutes, you decided to head out for some fresh air, sleep had officially eluded you. As you passed your teammates, you saw Steve fast asleep leaning against a shutter door, Nat sleeping next to a softly snoring Bruce holding hands, the sight making you smile. However there was no sign of Thor. He’d generously given his armor for you to use as a make-shift pillow, you just figured he must’ve fallen asleep beside you.

A light breeze welcomed you, sweat drying off instantly as you closed your eyes for a bit enjoying the gentle caress it offered. Arms outstretched, you took a few deep breaths in and out, enjoying the silence of the night.

If only you could peel off the uniform...

“Hello my love.”

A momentary squeal left your lips before you felt two strong muscular arms around your waist and warm, familiar breath fanning against your cheek. There was your answer to your quest of a missing Avenger.

“I was wondering where you were.” You grinned, placing your hands over his before pecking his stubbled cheek a couple of times.

It took you a second to realise but when you did, you turned to face the God of Thunder who stood half naked and proud in front of you, least bothered by the lack of clothing.

“Why the fuck—I, I mean. What are you doing half naked?”

Thor chuckled as you struggled to form a proper sentence, relishing in the fact that even after months of being with him, you were still tongue-tied when it came to seeing him sans clothes. He couldn’t blame you, he often did it on purpose just to get this reaction out of you.

It always worked, how could it not?

The man was a specimen. The sculpted physique that was pure muscle, the plains and dips of his toned torso more defined in the moonlight, made him appear ethereal.

“I gave you my armor to sleep on, remember?”

“So you’re just going to walk around shirtless?”

Your incredulous look made him laugh as he took slow deliberate steps towards you.

“Why? Is it bothering you?”

You gulped, glancing at the warehouse once before meeting his burning gaze, not bothering to answer him as it was quite clear how much it affected you.

“Why are you up at this hour my love? Missed me?” His voice dropped an octave lower, smirking when he realised you were walking backward, approaching the wall of the warehouse.

“I couldn��t sleep.” You replied weakly, the need to peel off your clothes and his stronger than ever. Another kind of heat had begun to gather between your legs and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

Thor caged you between his arms and the wall behind, clearly enjoying the effect he was seeing on your demeanor. Dipping his head, he kissed you just below your ear, grazing his teeth against your earlobe, making you sigh.

“If you can’t sleep, how about we have sex?” He whispered, pressing his front to yours while his fingers toyed with the zipper of your unitard.

“Thor w-we can’t.”

“We’ll be quiet love.” He insisted, the baritone you loved so much muffled by your skin. A tiny mewl that you emitted was the confirmation he needed to drag the zipper down slowly.

You stopped his attempts once half-heartedly, biting your bottom lip as you turned your head towards the entrance, knowing anyone could walk out at any time.

“Come on. You know you want to…”

You gave in, grabbing Thor by the back of his neck for a searing kiss. While both your fingers frantically fumbled with your clothing, your lips bruised against each other, biting and sucking in fervent passion.

He pushed the unitard down your shoulders, breasts, exposing your stomach before the cool night air met your moist folds down to your thighs is where he stopped. His lips trailed down the path covered by the fabric seconds ago, sucking on your nipples until they hardened while you pulled on his hair, guiding him further south where you wanted him the most. Your desperate whine made him chuckle against the skin of your stomach.

“Shh love. I got you.”

Holding your folds apart, he covered your clit with his mouth making your head hit the back of the wall with a strangled cry. His tongue flicked against your bundle of nerves with expertise, involuntarily sending your hips to grind against his mouth.

He watched you with darkened eyes as his fingers gathered the wetness between your legs before plunging them inside your entrance, curling them inward only to have you bite back a moan.

You wordlessly begged him for more and he obeyed, standing up and turning you so your chest was pressed against the wall before he pulled your hips back. You heard him undo his jeans before you felt his erection teasing at your entrance, gathering some of your wetness on his tip.

Thor pushed in slowly, filling and stretching you deliciously until he bottomed out, gradually moving in and out of your heat and setting a steady rhythm. Your nails scratched against the concrete as you met his thrusts, biting your bottom lip to the point where you were sure it would draw blood.

“Faster Thor..” you begged, a tiny part of you that was thinking rationally worried about being caught.

You wish was granted when he increased his pace, grunting he leaned over, biting your earlobe between his teeth. Your knees threatened to buckle and if it weren’t for him holding you upright, you’d have crumbled to the floor. A loud moan echoed in the night when his hand travelled to your bundle of nerves and began rubbing tight circles, bringing you closer and closer to orgasm.

Thor growled when you clenched his cock, making him pound into you harder than before, your combined groans and pants breaking the silence of the night.

“Let go my love, I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”

And you did, you came harder than you had before, crying in pleasure as your legs trembled and body shuddered under his. Thor’s hips faltered soon and he came inside you, his fingers digging into your butt cheeks, ropes of thick cum spilling against your walls as his cock jerked and twitched before stilling completely.

He held your limp body close as you both came down from your highs, head still buzzing from that mind-blowing sex.

Pulling out carefully, he watched his seed drip down your thighs before helping you dress with a smirk plastered on his face.

“Shut up.” You mumbled, a little unsteady on your feet knowing that was the reason behind his sly smile.

“Do you need me to carry you inside?”

“No thank you.” You hit his chest before joining in the laughter.

“Put some clothes on for heaven's sake.”

Walking back inside you sighed in relief when you saw your teammates fast asleep and oblivious to the activities that had transpired right outside just minutes ago.

[waywardimpalawriter]

hi! i really love your writing, and was really hoping you could do another dean winchester x f! plus size reader. possibly were they are best friends and she is pining for someone else. so before she can make her move on someone else he stops her and confess his love for her. idk maybe some angst/fluff/smut?? you don’t have to if u don’t want to, it’s totally up to you. like no pressure at all! but seriously, i do really love all your writing and i wanted to say thank you for everything u write and do!! <3 once again no pressure at all with this ask, but overall thank you!!<3

Just one good reason

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Female Reader

SPN mixed Bingo Square: Hurt/Comfort Square

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,

Setting: mid season 11

Rating: E (explicit), NSFW, 18+ only please

Warnings: angst, smut, yearning, grumpy and sweet Dean (yes they need a warning),

Word count: 12,805 (Truly Was suppose to be this long. I blame Dean for this.)

Summary: He’s given a million reasons, damaged goods, blood on his hands, nightmares, scared in so many ways. But most of all that he’s not good enough. Just when you’re ready to walk out that door he gives you one good reason to stay.

Notes: Thank you Anon for this request, I love writing for Dean so very much and to add a plus size gal in as well that just makes my day. I do hope you’ll enjoy this story. The song “Million Reasons” both version’s by Lady Gaga and Briana Buckmaster are inspiration for this story.

Tag list: Is open for all character’s and series I write for.

@spnmixedbingo

Dean Winchester list: @akshi8278

Just one good reason list: @chickensarentcheap

@impala1967dwinchester, @lilacprincessofrecovery, @superavengerpotterstar @jbbarnesgirl @sofreddie  @slightlyobsessedwithissues  

Ancient hinges creak wearily, firm hand pushing to hold open the heavy door letting you and Sam pass by. Fatigued sigh leaves slightly chapped lips, “It’s good to be home.” Taking the stairs down two at a time, tossing duffle bags towards the war table.

“Going soft on us old man?” Teasing quip tugging a smile from your lips as you drop down into the nearest chair. “Getting use to having that soft bed under your ass now huh?”

Scoffing, whiskey flecked green eyes settling on your plush frame, “Woman you forget we’re the same age first off.” Playfully stocking towards you, hands placed on the back of your chair to cage you in. “Second damn right that bed is magical, memory form baby, it remembers me,” poking your side, giggle leaving your lips body squirming in the seat.

“Stop,” pleading tone entering your voice, trying to evaded his questing hands trailing along your curvy sides. “Please,” puppy eyes begging for mercy, his hands aren’t willing to give. Though you can’t bring yourself to care seeing the weight, even for a moment, disappear from his countenance. Or the fact your sides aren’t the ticklish spot on your body, moving in the seat purely for show.

“Say your sorry for calling me old,” brow lifting watching you squirm under his hands. Wishing and not for the first time, he could have your soft body slotted against his harder frame. Knowing how well you fit just in a different way, one that hasn’t been enough for a long time.

Giggles burst from your lips, hands flat against the hard plains of his chest tugging on the dark blue t-shirt to distract from his plans. Pushing him away which had as much of an effect as a toy bulldozer did against a real brick wall. “Okay, okay I’m sorry, promise I’m sorry,” gasping for breath giving a hard tap to his shoulder.

“Now who’s giving up too soon?” Hands pause as his eyes catch yours for a long moment. Smiling face beaming up at him, heart beating triple time and not from assaulting you with his hands. Unable to resist the urge to touch your soft skin. Callused fingers come up to barely graze just under your left eye carefully capturing the eyelash on the tip of his forefinger from your cheek, “Make a wish.”

Leaning forward to place your lips close to the offered digit, eyes closed to blow a cold stream, eyelash fluttering away unseen. Keeping your libs lowered for a bit longer torn between what you truly desire and what’s within your grasp. Whiskey roughened voice breaking through your thoughts, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

“What you wish for?” Swallowing hard, beloved eyes flutter open to ensnare his in there depths. Catching something simmering just below but disappears quicker than a jack rabbit running from a coyote.

Clearing yours throat, “Can’t tell ya Deano won’t come true if I do.” Giving a smile, pressing him backwards to raise and grab your duffle bag. Cell phone signaling an incoming text message making you pull the the black case wrapped piece of tech out of your front jeans pocket. Bright smile pulling your lips higher seeing just who’s messaged you. “Catch y’all later.”

“Someone good?” Sam speaks for the first time since coming home. Watching the scene between his brother and best friend. Wanting to strangle the both of you for not seeing what’s right in front of you.

Head snapping up from buried in your phone to stare wide eyed at Sam, “Yes, no I mean it’s nothing but could be something.”

“Will again?” Peripheral catching the dark scowl pass over Dean’s features before disappearing behind a mask of indifference.

Humming sweetly, sparkle lighting your eyes that go back to your phone for a moment. “He’s asking if we can meet up tomorrow for lunch, trying to choose where to eat.”

“What about,” clearing his throat to unclog the emotions choking off the air to breath. “That little diner in town? It’s your favorite and serves the best pie aside yours of course.”

Trapping and tugging your bottom lip between nibbling teeth, head shaking in the negative. “Nope he’s not fond of greasy foods.”

‘Plus that’s our spot,’ unbridled thought slides into your mind and you want to look over at Dean to remind him. But push those thoughts aside with a wave, heading towards the bedrooms carefully making sure not to bump into a wall while responding.

Green eyes follow till you round the corner, heart catching in his throat cursing himself for mentioning your diner. Knowing better yet wanting confirmation without asking if the spot is still special.

“You’re an idiot Dean,” shaggy brown head shaking as he to snaps up his duffle bag to head towards his room. “The foundation is already there start building before it cracks.”

“Thanks Riddler, just cause I’m Batman doesn’t mean you have to be so fucking vague.” Left with his thoughts and the growing feeling he’s loosing you to another man. Dean leaves his stuff lay where it landed glancing over the chair you vacated not five minutes ago then heading towards the kitchen. In need of something harder than beer but settling for the dark brew being the only alcohol in the bunker.

Opening the fridge door, grabbing a brew his fingers brush against the clear plastic container holding a single slice of pecan pie. Eyes unseeing, drifting back into memories when the Mark of Cain still burned into his skin.

2015

Charlie’s dead, beaten, murdered and left in a pool of her own blood. Every time his eyes close she’s there, expressionless sea green eyes staring blankly into his own. Never hearing her snarky retorts, sassy ways or those hugs she gave. Staring into cold brown sludge, hands gripping the mug a little too tightly. Not sure why he chose to come here of all places. When he could’ve started out on his hunt for the Styne’s. Deep down though he knows the reason right as the little bell signals someone’s entered the small family owned diner. Knowing exactly who and trying to ready himself for your present.

Never ready for how your soft fingers brush along his temple, settling on his shoulder for a moment while you slide into the worn pleather covered booth. Trailing those gentle fingers down his black and grey plaid covered arm. Tugging one hand from around the ceramic cup to intertwine your fingers. Head coming to rest on his shoulder, no words just comfort in a time when he needs it most.

“You shouldn’t be here,” dark with hints of gravel and kissed with pain in the tone. Whiskey flicked green obits focus, for the first time on something besides the cup in his hands, landing on the top of your head.

Shrugging, “Where else should I be Dean?” Looking up at him sorrowful eyes meeting right when your other palm comes up to brush moisture from his cheek. Unnoticed tears sliding down cool cheeks, “You’re my best friend there’s no place I’d rather be then right here helping you.”

“You could get killed,” the very through twists his heart till almost bursting. Brings bile to rise in the back of his throat, slithering through his system to settle unpleasantly in the pit of his stomach. It’s one thing to loose Charlie a heavy casualty. But you, Dean isn’t sure he’d come back from the dark path he’d follow for vengeance.

Soft sad smile turns your lips barely upward, “Not gonna happen I have my knight in shining Impala to keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t keep Charlie safe how can I…”

Shaking your head, finger placed over his kissable lips, “You’ve given me a million reasons already Dean Winchester and I don’t believe a single one of them.” Resting your foreheads together a moment, tenderness skating across your veins for the man beside you, “You might not believe it but your a good man.”

Pie filled plate slides across scared formica table top, metal fork clattering against the ceramic pushed in front. “More coffee,” sweet feminine voice floats from beside you.

Nodding, “Please, sugar and cream too.” Giving her a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes feeling Dean stir beside you.

“Black like my soul you know that sweetheart,” slightly chapped lips brush your cheek. A simple thank you for this act of kindness he feels undeserving of. If he hadn’t already been head over heels in love with you this sweet gesture would’ve sealed the deal.

Breathless gasp parts your lips as you turn finding Dean closer almost invading your space. Leather, motor oil and Irish Spring tickle your nose, eyes locking with those agony drenched obits, making another gasp exist your lungs. Heartache rocketing through your body, colliding with anger directed at the Styne’s.

“Eat your pie Winchester we’ll talk about that soul of yours later after dealing with the Styne’s.”

Heart freezing at the mention of the murdering family, “No,” rougher than intended, Dean grabs your chin twisting your face towards his. Rage hot and potent flaring through those beautiful greens. “No you will stay with Sam I’ll deal with them myself…”

“Dean you can’t be serious…” grabbing his wrist, pleading in your eyes for him to listen. Loosing Charlie splintered your heart, counting her as the sister you’ve never had. Her blood demanding revenge for the grievous act. But loosing Dean would kill you, knowing you never would come back from that agony.

“I am, deadly so. You try and sneak along I’ll toss that sexy ass outta Baby faster than you can pray to Castiel.”

Snorting, pulling your chin from his grasp, “You couldn’t lift me Winchester and you can’t stop me…” but the look he gives you does. Any farther flow of words halt in there bid to tumble out of your mouth.

“No I can’t,” callused palms cup your cheeks keeping you in place. Searching your eyes and making sure you understood, “I don’t want you to come with me Y/N. If there’s anytime to listen its now. I’ve lost one sister I didn’t want.” Bitting those words out to keep from speaking the others which threaten to pour from his being. “I can’t loose you,” resting your foreheads together again.

Nodding, trying to keep yourself from rubbing your cheek into his palm or worse press your lips against his. Lying to yourself isn’t something you normally do and you wouldn’t start now with the realization you were in love with your best friend and worried your going to loose him to the all consuming darkness.

You're giving me a million reasons to let you go

You're giving me a million reasons to quit the show

You're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

Downing the last of his long neck, drawing patterns over the hardwood table underneath with the condensation from the bottle. Eyes trained on that single slice of pie you’d bought him weeks ago.

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you D,” mirth filled voice floats towards him before you reach his side in body.

Hand coming into view grabbing for the container to toss it out. But Dean’s quicker, “If you value your life, you’ll unhand my pie,” thick fingers circle your wrist pulling your plush body down beside him. “It’s not nice to steal a man’s pie woman,” keeping his tone light, playful and away from the looming fate he knows will visit upon his person once you figure out Will is the man you truly want. Deserving of your light, and laughter, the sweetness, of your beauty that Dean only hopes the other man will appreciate.

Gasping in mock outrage, “Who me?” Hand to heart trying to keep the laughter from your tone. “I would never deprive you of pie Deano. But I would that slice since I think it’s become a science experiment.”

Narrowing his eyes towards the offending sweet dessert, “It is not.” Poking twice before pulling the pie forward for a closer inspection. Musical laughter meeting his ears, smothering the smirk threatening to bloom over his lips. “Okay so maybe your right,” turning his pouting face towards you.

“Course I am,” giving him a wink then standing to toss the ruined sweets out. Pausing by the panty, you peek in unaware Dean’s watching you from his seat.

Teasing sway to your generous hips has his eyes tracking every movement. Bitting the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at how temping you look. Thick thighs encased in blue denim jeans feet bare from wearing those steal toed Dr. Martins during hunts. Body stretching upwards, soft cotton baby blue tank top riding up to bare a silver of delicate skin to his eyes. Your fingers barely snag the sugar container’s edge, pulling it down to clasp against your ample chest.

Chastising himself for the erotic thoughts flipping through his mind on a single film reel. “What exactly are you doing sweetheart?” Carefully keeping his lower half away from your line of sight. Lest you find out the problem currently tenting his jeans, teeth gritting to stop himself from acting on all those thoughts.

“Never you mind Dean Winchester,” tossing over your shoulder, checking for vanilla extract, light syrup, and butter from the fridge. Last stop the freezer mentally trying to remember if you there's a pie shell left or would need to make one. Hoping for at least a single, since checking the flour stock and coming up almost empty. “Start a list for me please and put flour on it,” setting the three ingredients in your hands down. Turning back to open the metal door to peer into the freeze, swaying slighting to a song running through your head. A triumphant “Yes,” exists your lips, a little dance of excitement upon finding the last shell.

Damn near swallowing his tongue so entranced by your movements gulping different words back down to keep from making a total fool of himself. As he utters, “Not till I know exactly what your making over there Betty Crocker.”

“Resorting to blackmail now?” Brow arched, unconsciously licking your lips slowly. Unaware of Dean watching the path it takes across your pump bottom lip, tucking it between indenting teeth.

For distraction purposes, Dean pulls his phone from the front pocket of his jeans. Bringing up the list app a suggestion to simplify things you gave him months back. Forcing himself to focus on the small screen in his hands instead of the woman currently dancing around the kitchen. Pulling bowls, pots and pans out, one chance glance has an inaudible groan vibrating through his chest at the sight of your plush ass. Bent over shifting through sheet pans knowing which you look for as arousal flares to life so potent Dean turns quickly hiding his reacting. Planting his face in the palms of his hands, elbows bent to catch the weight. Fingers digging into eye sockets to use the pain and banish the thoughts from reappearing.

Frowning at his actions you come over after putting the pan on the counter. Fingers running through his hair, scraping the scalp with short nails. Pleased smile at the groan you pull from his lips as he rubs his head into your palm like a little puppy. “Something wrong Dean?” Worry dancing through the cadence of your voice other hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

“Fine,” head popping up, forcing your fingers to slide out of his hair. Taking a chance to glance up into your worried eyes. Underserving of your soft touch searing his skin. An itch to run from our presence skitters across his veins. “I’m fine sweetheart just tired.”

Searching his face, those whiskey flecked green eyes so unlike the blue-greens of Will’s, catching something hiding in those deep depths he’s trying to hide. Never fooled by words, always inspecting his actions and those little tells partially concealed though you know them all too well. “You’re covering something up Winchester I’ll get it out of you one way or another,” patting his cheek and stepping away.

‘I don’t want you to go on that date,’ on the tip of his tongue poised to leave his lips he keeps smashed together burying those feelings to not ruin this chance you have at an apple pie life. The very thought tears his heart, rendering another hole in the punched out organ. Though it’s his own fault for giving you a million reasons to keep that boundary line in place. Tip toeing almost across a few times, but always toeing the line keeping himself in check. Head snapping around when something hard hits the back of his head, scowl in place though it’s more playful than menacing. “Did you just…” glancing towards the floor to find a lone pecan on the ground behind him. Head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed on your face, which is the total opposite of his holding a sweetly innocent look concealing the trouble he knows you’ll cause. “Seriously a pecan? That could’ve done damage Babe Ruth.”

Eyes rolling, snort issuing from your up turned lips, “I don’t know what you speak of Dean I’m just here making a pie minding my own business. Can’t help it if a pecan has it out for you.”

“Possessed it must be,” voice pitched in a poor imitation of Master Yoda, getting a boo hiss from your general direction. “Though something tells me a certain someone threw the poor helpless nut.”

Shrugging, face neutral a picture of indifference with hands on your wide hips ingredients spread out over the counter. “Stop calling yourself names Dean it’s not nice.” Bottom lip trapped for a second to keep from giggling at the way he’s looking towards you.

Enjoying this moment of normalcy you’ve managed to capture in these dark and dangerous times. Thoughts skittering towards Will, if he’s able to put up with the hunters life style? Former Marine, Will knows so little of what truly goes bump in the night making you worry he wouldn’t feel at ease. It’s the reason you’ve hesitated each time he’s asked you out. Not wanting to drag someone else into a life of blood and death. Persistence and patience paid off when you finally agreed on a dinner date for tomorrow night. One your actually looking forward to.

But then you glance towards Dean, seeing the smile grace those soft looking lips, shinning in his whiskey flecked green orbs for the first time in months and you hesitate. Would you want to leave this life for a man who wouldn’t understand you not fully anyway? Or stay and remain the best friend till a hunt takes one of you out? Could you truly leave your home with the Winchesters, with Dean?

His voice breaks through the your thoughts, ruthful chuckle echoing through the room, “Haha sweetheart stop trying to be John Candy it ain’t workin for ya,” bending to scoop up the tossed nut a memory filters through his mind. Opening a wound he thought long since closed over soaked in whiskey and women who’s names he’s forgotten. Shaking the thought away to ask, “You gonna chunk a nut at your boyfriend tomorrow night too? Or is that reserved for me?”

Not sure why he’s even asking or teasing you about it or the fact there’s a bite to the tone. He shouldn’t care about a simple date, yet the thought twists his gut smile slipping from his lips as he looks down at the pecan in hand. Unwillingly letting those images fill and play before his eyes.

If I had a highway, I would run for the hills

If you could find a dry way, I'd forever be still

But you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

December 2011

Run down two room shack a nicer way of putting it truly, you think while pulling up outside next to Baby’s sleek black side. Hands gripping the steer wheel till knuckles hurt and you can focus again through the haze of tears spilling down your cold cheeks. Still trying to grasp the fact Bobby Singer legendary hunter, go to lore man, and surrogate father, dead by a bullet from Dick Roman’s gun. Itching for vengeance you try to quell for another time when you can let all the anger out. For right now you knew he needed you more than any strategy planning or revenge thought.

Remembering Sam’s voice shaking, laced with pain, peppered with rage but above all coated in sadness you could hear over the phone lines. Never hesitating to drop the case — for now — breaking speed limit in the need to reunite with your boys. You’d do anything for family even those who weren’t by blood. Learning a long time ago that family doesn’t end with the DNA flowing through your veins.

Shaking those thoughts from your mind and existing the car only to lean back in and grab the bags from the passenger side. Standing to full height to peer over the top locking eyes with those anger clouded greens. “No I didn’t bring you anything Winchester so don’t bother asking.” Trying to lighten the situation with poorly used humor.

Words fail to leave thinned lips as you pass by, hand holding the creaking barely held together door open for you. Following behind his voice scratchy from no use, “Sam call you?”

“Of course silly why wouldn’t he?” Placing the bags on what could pass for a pile of rubble instead of an island countertop. Turning to face him cataloging each feature, the stone set of his jaw, shoulders tight with tension, eyes those beautiful normally vibrate whiskey flecked greens mute with anguish he tries to hide.

Shrugging, shoulders dropping forward with no will to keep them up, “He shouldn’t have your needed else where Y/N.”

“Bullshit Winchester,” moving with purpose to stand in his personal space. “Bobby was just as much a father to me as to you. There’s no other place I’d rather be than here, for a different reason yes but I’m not leaving so suck it up buttercup.”

Catching the flash of anger tinging the deep greens whether directed at you or himself you’re not sure. “We already salted and burned his body, there’s no reason for you to stay.” Turning away from your softening eyes knowing your going to try and reason with him. Make him see he’s not responsible for what happened.

“I know,” two simple words make him pause and turn back. “I didn’t come to say goodbye to Bobby, I came for you.” Taking one step closer arms wrapping around his slumped shoulders bringing him into the shelter of your embrace. Steady hands running the length of his stiff back, imparting your warm, trying to give comfort knowing he’s unaccepting of such sympathies.

Brows furrowing, frown tipping his lips downward, fists clinching at his sides, Dean tries to keep himself from giving into the solace he so easily could find in your embrace. Warmth sinking into his skin through the layers of clothing he wears, tingling his skin, quickening his pulse.“Why?”

“You need me, your not listening to Sam or Castiel talking about going off to track Roman down yourself,” spitting the Leviathan’s name out like chewed to long gum. Head resting against his strong chest feeling the slightly erratic beat of his heart against your ear.

Back stiffening, “I don’t need you to tell me what to do Y/N I can make that decision on my own.” Low growl rattling through his chest as he pulls from your arms and steps from the warmth evaporating from his body. “You should leave.”

“And get yourself killed?” Hands slamming to your wide hips glaring daggers at your best friend. “What happened wasn’t your fault Dean. Any one of us could’ve taken that bullet, Bobby knew the risks of the mission, accepted them and died…” swallowing the tears threatening to slip from your eyes. “A hero,” ignoring his last words, reaching out to try and take his hand only to have him pull away like you’ve burned him.

“Don’t, don’t try to reason this with me I know better,” turning his back to head for the wall covered in papers trying to figure out just what Dick Roman’s up too.

Shaking your head knowing he’s hurting but not wanting to voice those feelings, to make him appear weak. With a sigh leaving your frowning lips you move silently beside him looking over the wall of weird trying to piece together how everything connects. Brushing your hand against his, pinkie trailing to catch what you think is his forefinger. Wrapping the little finger tightly around his you lean over, “I’m right here when you’re ready Dean, I’m not leaving nor letting go.”

“You should,” not bothering to turn and face you. Memories of Lisa and Ben filter through his thoughts along with Bobby, his father and what he can remember of his mother. “I’m poison and get everyone around me killed.” He doesn’t want to add you to the growing list. Rather wanting you to leave and find a different path for your life.

Tugging on his finger to wrap the middle and forefinger with your ring and pinkie fingers, “Then Sam and I are the antidote to your poison.” Giving a soft sad smile to his side profile, wrapping him up into your arms. Resting your head on his shoulder, voice a gentle whisper of breath upon his cheek and neck,“Those reasons keep tallying up Winchester we’ll hit a million before long.”

Reminding you both of a long ago discussion between the two of you in Bobby’s junk yard while still teenagers. Before angels and demons, vampires thought long dead and ancient Leviathan brought back from the pit of purgatory. When you made the packed to never fall for each other and always remain best friends. To never let go no matter how dire the situation, you’d have each other’s back.

Evaporating memories of long ago, you speak softly still resting your head on his shoulder. “You work on this mosaic of papers you have plastered over the walls. I have a pie to bake,” not giving it much thought you quickly press a kiss to his stubbled cheek then turn to head back towards the passable kitchen area.

Tingles dance over his skin for longer than he wishes, wanting to suppress those feelings bubbling up to try and consume him. Thinking he could bury them under the mounting pain and self hated. Yet, the warmth of your arms, soft press of your lips, your words register and sink into his brain Dean turns to watch you work unable stop a few of those feelings from dancing around his heart. Single thought shocking him in its stark contradiction to his current state of mind, Dean Winchester self proclaimed ladies man has fallen in love with his best friend. A sucker punch to the gut making him gasp and reel that silent declaration in. Stuffing it under the right full emotions of anger and pain. Letting them tap dance through his veins instead, something much safer for the both of them. Something he could understand and deal with.

I bow down to pray

I try to make the worst seem better

Lord, show me the way

To cut through all his worn out leather

I've got a hundred million reasons to walk away

But, baby, I just need one good one to stay

Head stuck in a cycle, I look off and I stare

It's like that I've stopped breathing, but completely aware

'Cause you're giving me a million reasons

Give me a million reasons

Giving me a million reasons

About a million reasons

Present

“He’s not my boyfriend yet Dean,” eyes rolling as you turn to melt the butter in a small sauce pan. Though there is a part of you wishing he could one day fill the role unless a single good reason can change your mind comes your way.

“But you want him too?” Words muttered through presses together teeth. Hating the fact he’s letting something so trivial effect him in such a way. You’ve had other boyfriends, one night stands he’s had to sit through yet this one feels different. As if he could truly loose you this time and those thoughts scare the shit outta him the most. Because yes you’re his best friend for longer than he can remember but above that you’re the woman who gets him, argues with him, sets his ass straight when he’s being stupid and above all or so he hopes, loves him warts and all.

Hands pause at his question looking into the melting golden liquid bubbling silently remembering to flick the tiny knob and turn the heat off. While your head screams to say yes but it’s a little small voice beating quickly beneath your ribcage making you pause. Clearing your throat to gather what thoughts you could from their scattered places. You’ve always spoke with honesty to Dean, unless circumstances dictated other wise, and you weren’t about to change now. Through you wouldn’t turn to face him when you did wanting to keep from seeing his eyes. Finding the reason for his questions in those green depths you’ve fallen for though never spoken the feelings. “Yes, he could…” swallowing to coat your dry throat to spit out the words rotting your stomach. “I could have a chance at happiness with Will, Dean. Why do you even ask?”

“I don’t want to loose you,” ‘Because I love you,’ on the tip of his tongue to tell you, give voice and life to his true feelings. Wanting you to stay and forget about those million other reasons he’s let slip between the cracks in your relationship.

Frozen in place, hands gripping the countertop beside the stove. “You wouldn’t loose me Dean I’d still go on hunts with you, I’d stick around,” lies tasting bitter on your tongue, heart beating triple time wondering if he’ll pick up on the dishonesty your speaking. Always feeling he’d never see you as anything other than his best friend. Never the type of woman to draw his attention, too soft and plush in places most men wouldn’t want and you didn’t pine for a man who’s given you a million reasons to walk away. So you shoved those feelings, the love you held back trying to make it work with other men. To find the one who’d surpass Dean destroying your feelings for the green eyed hunter, giving you the one reason to stay and belong. So why now did he have to put doubts in your mind? Why ask these questions when in years past he’d brush other men away as nothing more than a passing fancy?

Silently Dean stands slowly making his way towards you, taking in the ridged stance of your plush form. Hands itch to wrap around your thick waist and haul you against his chest. Pausing right beside you, brushing his fingers against yours too hook what he thinks is your forefinger with his pinkie. “You and I both know things wouldn’t stay the same between us sweetheart. He’d find a way to take you away from me,” praying you won’t pull away Dean turns to stare at your profile. Taking in the beauty he’s catalogued thousands of times, the curve of your lips when you smile, slope of your nose, eyes bright with laughter or spiting fire when angry usually at him. Softness of your cheeks under his palms the times he’s actually got to cup and caress the skin.

“We’ll remain best friends Dean that’ll never change,” gathering the courage to turn and look into his eyes. Catching the sadness coating those beloved greens making your heart ache. Tongue slipping out to tug back your bottom lip between your teeth indented them to keep from asking the question your heart demands.

Of its own accord Dean’s free hand comes up to brush over your cheek, cupping the soft skin, fingers spread from apple to jaw wanting so badly to draw you in and kiss those tempting lips. “I want you happy Y/N and if it’s possible out of this life, been wanting that for you since Bobby,” sliding his hand to your chin to pinch the end with his thumb and forefinger tipping your face up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I’ll miss you sweetheart.”

Eyes lock with stormy greens after he pulls back, soft gasp parting your lips at the simple touch, words sounding like a goodbye instead of their usual see ya later. Grappling for words to say, questions to ask, trying to figure out what’s going on, and why now. But he’s gone before your brain can catch up with your mouth, and your turning to rush after, seeing his back disappear around the corner.

Feet finally responding to command as you quickly follow stopping at the doorway, “Give me one good reason.” Praying he’ll listen and stop, hoping it’s not too late. “Stop giving me all these reasons to leave.”

Back ridged but his mind a flurry of thoughts and answers, more questions than he could shake a stick at. Only one reason comes to mind, “Good reason to what?”

Traveling the short distance to take his hand intertwining your fingers with his, needing him to turn around and look at you. Needing the connection while stating, “Give me a good reason to stay Dean to not go tomorrow night.”

“I can’t,” partly wanting to flinch from your touch, to tug his hand free, and partly wanting to sink into your familiar embrace. Soak in the peace he always finds in your arms, to bath in your warmth and possibly bask in your love. But Dean wouldn’t be selfish he’d let you go even if it meant killing his own heart and soul.

The urge to punch him grows strong but your refrain from using violence, “Why not? Too scared? Or you just don’t care?”

The warmth of your hand disappears from searing into his palm, tingling those long nimble fingers, his eyes close knowing you’re walking away because of that millionth reason. Till the first brush of soft fingers tender in there touch upon his cheek. He gives in to the urge and rubs his slightly stubbled cheek into your palm. “If that’s you Sam, I’m gonna kick your ass dude,” ignoring your questions in favor of basking in your touch instead. Hearing the soft giggle from your lips brings a smile to his own. Eyes finally opening too stare into yours, almost doing a doubt take at what he sees in those beloved depths. “I don’t deserve you Y/N.”

“Stop giving me a million reasons Dean and give me the one that’ll make me stay,” imploring him with your touch, fingers tracing over his cheeks and jaw. Tracing his plush bottom lip with the pad of your thumb, “I just need one good reason.”

He’d find the situation funny if it’s anyone else standing in front asking the same question. Even Sam would get a chuckle from his lips, but you, his breath freezes, heart thumping wildly in equal measures of terror and excitement. The very thoughts running unrestrained in his mind scare the shit out of him, but only one truly feels right. Snaking an arm around your thick waist pulling you against his strong chest, fitting like missing puzzle pieces. His free hand coming up to cup your cheek, “I love you.”

Tears slip from their ducts barely held back till those three simple words spill from his mouth jump starting your heart and sending your emotions swirling. Warm palms cradle your wet cheeks, gun callused thumbs brush hot tears away, you spy the worry and fear your non response sparks. “Do you mean it?” Wanting clarification before handing your heart over to the very man who’s held it for so long.

Knowing what your asking Dean stops waiting and lowers his mouth to yours. That first touch of lips electricity shoots through you veins. Body responding quicker with arms going around his neck to pull him firmly against you not a wisp of space between your bodies. Fingers tangling in the short hairs at the back of his head while you slot your lips against his. Demanding and deep, a tangled dance of tongues. Clashing of teeth, a melding mouths and finding the right angles to draw those delicious moans from each of you. Till air becomes necessary and you break apart panting, “That answer your question sweetheart?”

“No,” smirking when his eyes narrow, “I wanna hear it again.”

No hesitation in speaking those three words, “I love you.” Groaning when your lips smash back to his. Stealing breath from his lungs and a moan from his chest, Dean walks you backward till your pressed against the cool tile wall. Lower pelvis holding your soft body in place so his hands can dance over your cotton covered plush form. Palm’s flat against your thick waist, slowly dragging them around and down to cup your generous ass. Squeezing firmly and making you gasp.

Using the opening as a way to work his tongue back into your mouth, delving in for another taste of your sweetness. Low groan existing when rearranging his mouth to fit differently and snag a gulp of air. Stubble abrading your chin in the most spectacular of ways. Pooling heat low in your belly and making your mind wander in other more salacious directions. Brought back from teetering on the deliciously desirable edge by a sharp bite, his teeth nabbing your bottom lip to tug, letting go with a wet pop. Breath fanning out over your heated cheeks. Eyes once closed now open and locked with yours a pleading undertone to the desire darkened greens.

Knowing what he wants to hear and unable to wait along, “I love you too Dean.” Heart bursting with unrestrained joy flooding your system and making you love drunk.

“Thank fucking God,” groaning, resting your foreheads together still trying to reign in the wild thumping of his heart. Your admission only serves to make the largest muscle spasm quicker. All his pent up emotions, desires and needs flowing to the surface, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from rushing into something too fast. Remembering it’s still fresh and new between the two of you a different path to the relationship already established in friendship.

Giggling softly, you cup both his cheeks, thumbs brushing along his skin, three days worth of stubble abrading your palms. “So,” teasing smirk pulling at your lips, “I better call Will huh?”

“For?” Trying to keep the bitter growl from escaping and giving away his feelings on the sore subject. Tugging your soft body back in place from your wiggles to side free, not ready to let you go just yet.

Sliding one hand down his chest to rest where you know his anti-possession tattoo resides. Tracing the edges with the tip of your finger over the black t-shirt he’s wearing, locking eyes with his, “Seems I’m a taken woman. Wouldn’t want to lead the poor guy on now would I?” Watching how those whiskey flecked greens darken, pushing his lower body deeper into your plush form. Barely heard as you try not to give away the whimper of need his body produces in your own, with his pressed so tightly. Cool concrete keeping you body temp from over heating for the moment.

“No,” clearing his throat leaning in to draw his nose over your jawline. Touring towards your ear, catching the lobe between his front teeth to tug. Low desire filled growl leaving his lips, followed by, “Tomorrow is another day sweetheart and right now you’ve got better things to do.”

Heading tipping over granting access to the parts of your neck he wants, trying to keep the shiver from rolling over your body. Heat flooding your veins sparking a need you’ve never felt with any of the other men you’d previously had relations with. “What,” licking your parched lips, “what better things Dean?” Praying it’s the same idea rolling around your head for the longest time.

Pausing in his mapping of your neck and shoulder with his lips, Dean raises his head to spear you with a heated look. “Me for starters sweetheart, that is of course…” uneasiness has him trailing off the first time in his life. The bitter taste of uncertainty coating his thoughts for a fraction of a second before your lips land back on his.

Teasingly soft presses, little ghost touches of your tongue, playfully dotting his cheeks, chin and forehead with your lips before brushing close to his ear. “Hey Dean,” smiling against his skin, tenderly pressing your lips just south of his ear. Nibbling the found patch of sensitive skin behind committing the spot to memory for later. Breath puffing out quicker feeling him shiver, knowing what the next words would invoke in Dean and his love for the movie. “You big stud. Take me to bed or lose me forever,” sultry tone added to the cadence.

His eyes close for a moment, heart swelling as you recite the words to one of his favorite movies. Marveling at the fact you’ve remembered the lines perfectly and Dean falls deeper in love with you if that’s possible.

The gentle caresses of your lips against his skin setting fire to his nerve endings, room in his jeans becoming a hot commodity as his shaft thickens and throbs. Finding the distraction almost too much while trying to recall the next line. Teasing giggles reach his ears that he replies to with a deep chuckle. Words coming back to him, “Show me the way home, honey.”

Reaching down to tug one hand from your ass, chuckling with a shake of your head when it doesn’t budge but squeezes the generous globe. Notching himself tighter into your body, smirk appearing as your eyes widen, gasp issuing from parted lips. Bitting the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling before the words can escape. “Is that a pickle in your pocket or you just happy to see me?”

“Oh sweetheart it’s a great big dill I can show ya,” flashing a smirk, both of you trying hard not to laugh.

“Preferably,” deep voice tinged with slight offense but liberally coated in amusement. “In your own room so the both of you aren’t bare ass naked in the hallway bumping like bunnies,” having rounded the corner towards the kitchen and catching the intimate embrace. “A vision I don’t want branded into my skull thank you very much,” Sam paused arms crossed in annoyance. Golden dotted green eyes dancing with mirth, catching the playfully scandalous expression cross your features. Glancing towards Dean who buries his face in your neck getting a deep chuckle from his brother.

Try as you might to keep from busting out laughing they just rolled out of your mouth as your eyes lock with Sam’s. Acting stoic but the smile tugging at his lips and the teasing flash through his eyes speak a different story. Only thing holding you up is Dean’s body still pressed heavily against your. The man in question glancing up first to look at you then over his shoulder towards Sam. “Don’t even start Sammy,” grumbling good-naturedly giving him a middle finger salute and the opening you need to slip from between his hard body and the wall. Teasing growl rumbling through his chest at the loss of your warmth. Dean reaches out to snag your arm but you manage to dance out of his reach, giggles echoing off the walls trailing behind your disappearing form.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Dean but Cas owes me fifty bucks,” patent Sam Winchester smirk sliding over his lips. Brow raised at his scoff, “Can’t believe I had a betting pot going?”

Watching you run off happy grin tipping his mouth upward, he looks back at Sam grin still in place. “Just can’t believe it’s with Cas. Rowena maybe, Jody, Claire, Alex and Donna fuck yes but Cas,” incredulous look stealing over his features for a few moments.

“Who say’s the bet’s not bigger than you think,” broad shoulders shrugging same smirk in place, Sam enters the kitchen on that note leaving Dean to stare wide eyed after his baby brother. “Matter of time, always just a matter of time,” laughter tinged voice exists the kitchen, unseen shake of his head at the mess left behind.

Stock still for a fraction of a second till soft giggles echo quietly down the hall, grin turning into full blown smile. Need rushing back through his veins in remembrance of your position just a few short moments ago. Low curse existing his mouth, Dean turns racing off to find which room you’re hiding in.

Nerves tingled through your body, worry interrupting thoughts/memories of short minutes ago. Hard press of his body against yours, warm moist breath fanning out over your skin sending tingles of a different kind to skitter across your veins. But now standing in Dean’s room trying to figure out where to lay or stand that would invoke images of sensuality. You look down at your bare feet toes wiggling against cold concrete. Up wards to thick jeans clad thighs, a baby blue tank top covering your torso, self consciousness went out the window decades ago. After the first serious injuries you suffered at the hands of a vengeful spirit had you damn near stripped naked in front of Dean. Confidence in face of adversity knowing he’s the only one for miles around to patch you up.

Now though is different, same confidence but wishing for sexier clothing something to entice and tease. Small snort issues from the depths of your body knowing damn well you had nothing of the sort in your possession. Flannels, tank tops, t-shirts and jeans hunter’s required staples along with the functional under garments you groan at remembering are mismatched at the present.

“Beautiful even in those rumpled clothing,” deep voice breaking through thoughts and making a squeak sound as you quickly turn to face the lazily leaning against the door jam hunter. Arms crossed over muscular chest, biceps straining the black t-shirt’s sleeves, “I meant what I said before Sammy interrupted us.”

Tugging your bottom lip back under indented top teeth turning to face him fully, “Which part?” Barely keeping the mirth from bubbling over, “That I should show you the way home or you have a big dill?” Easy going banter calming your nerves even the part about feeling ill-prepared clothing wise.

Tender infused whiskey fleck green eyes turn molten with each sweep of your body. “I love you,” words escape as eyes stay locked, Dean pushing away from the doorway. Booted foot catching the hardwood door and slamming it shut behind him. Stocking towards you as a lion would his prey, licking parched lips wanting to devour you. Hands fisting at his side though to keep from reaching out and doing just that incase it’s something your not ready for.

His breath froze upon seeing you walking around his room, something akin to relief floods his veins along with a sense of rightness. Sure you’ve come in hundreds of times to wake him from a nightmare or mornings, to barrow music and to talk. Yet, this time feels different giving your relationship changed moments ago. Catching the indecision clearly written in those beloved eyes that don’t focus on one place too long. For a moment Dean wishes he could read your thoughts but then having hunted and lived together for decades he picked up the situation and cues without having to know your thoughts.

Pleased hum breaks Dean from the wondering trail his thoughts took him on to spy the sweet smile gracing your lips. Hands positioned on your hips one cocked to the side as you stand there waiting expectedly. Restraining himself, Dean opens his palms to bring them up and cup your cheeks dragging you against him. Lips meeting in the tenderest of kisses that he keeps in place while speaking, “You want this, want me?”

Recognizing his vulnerability and what he’s asking with those simple words, arms wrap around his back fisting the shirt tightly to press the two of you together. Love saturated eyes burn into those greens you could drown in, “That’s my question Winchester stop stealing my lines.” Flattening one palm to slide up and into his hair. Pressing another kiss to his soft lips you’ve only imaged kissing till now. The reality so much better than any fantasy you ever came up with.

“Calling me a thief now sweetheart?” Using jokes to cover the fact he’s searching for the right words. Flustered and frustration slither through his veins in a combination Dean’s not accustom, words stammering of unintelligible nature tumble from his mouth. The feel of your blunt nails sending pleasurable shivers down his spine.

Nodding, craning your neck back a few inches but keeping your eyes locked, “You stole my lines and my heart Dean so yes that would make you a thief.” Hand sliding over his back now and settling into the back pocket of his jeans, “I also meant what I said back there.” Catching the cocked brow you elaborate, “Take me to bed Dean I’m tired of waiting, I want to know how it feels to have you inside me.”

Soft groan issues from parted lips. Wanting to act on your words so damn badly his body vibrates with barely contained desire. Forehead coming to rest against yours, strong hands sliding too loosely wrap around and caress your neck. “You know I’m not great at relationships. I could seriously fuck things up.”

“I know but then so could I,” any doubts or insecurities evaporating into the ether with every look.

Callused fingers brush over your bare shoulders sending sensual shivers cascading down your body. Rubbing your thighs together for added friction with the heated look Dean’s fixing you with. Boosting your confidence to step back his hands drop to the side as you own pinch at the hem of your tank top. Slowly pulling it from your body, letting it drop with a barely heard whisper.

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” resolve snapping, reaching for your hips and tugging you back against him harder than intended. Lips sealing quickly to swallow the gasp existed parted lips Dean takes advantage of and slips his tongue inside the warm cavern of your mouth.

There’s nothing gentle about this kiss, it’s all teeth and tongues, fighting desperately for dominance. Pulling groans from the depths of Dean’s soul as he pulls whimpers and moans from your own. Till air becomes needed though it doesn’t stop your mouth from trailing a hot path across his stubbled jaw. Nibbling towards that little patch behind his ear to flick the tip of your tongue against. Smirking at the shutter rolling through his body, fingers dancing a rhythm over his shirt covered torso. Hem reached you tug twice to which he nods reaching behind him grasping and pulling the garment off to join yours.

Hands, palms flat immediately going to ghost over his rippling tummy. Muscle covered soften causing all moisture to pool south, clit throbbing almost painfully. Sure you’ve seen him bare chested before this time it’s different. For pleasure instead of patching him up. Drawing desired groans rather than pain filled. “I know Sam would abject but I so wouldn’t mind seeing you walk around shirtless.”

Full belly chuckle leaves Dean’s lips, “Sweetheart don’t talk about other men right now especially not my brother.” Possessive hands landing on your naked plush waist, fingers spanning the distance and gripping the flesh in his palm. Dreams having nothing on the real woman in his palms.

“Just stating facts sir nothing more,” trailing your fingers over the slightly hair roughen skin. Brushing pebbled nipples from the cool air and your proximity. Reserving a gasp when you lean forward to lap with the tip of our tongue and nip at the peaked point. Glancing to lock eyes as you switch and give the same attention to its twin giving the same attention getting a hiss from your actions. Dragging you lips upward to trace his tattoo with kisses.

Molten green eyes drinking in the sight of your lips on his skin, shooting desire straight to his cock. Throbbing need demanding attention no matter how good your soft lips feel against his body. “Baby girl,” groaning at the nip you place, eyes close to compose himself. Flying open as air cool brushes his skin inside of the shared heat of both your bodies. Mesmerized by the way you reach back to unclasp your bra, pushing your lushes breasts out teasing his vision, salivating for a taste of your skin.

He steps forward crowding into your space backing you into the bed till the back of your calves hit the edge. Wrapping his arms around your plush form to brush hands away and do the task himself. Finger tips skimming the edges of both straps till reaching the top at your shoulders and drawing them down. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while pulling the garment from your pliant body tossing it behind him. Eyes flicking down on a groan, licking his dry lips at the beauty displayed for his ravenous gaze.

“Lay down for me sweetheart,” meeting your lust blown orbs with his own. “I wanna see you in my bed,” biting off a whimper when you drop onto the edge. Bountiful breasts bouncing teasingly as he watches you slide backwards towards the head board. Hands going to the button of your jeans, low growl pausing your nimble fingers. “That’s for me to do baby girl, just,” swallowing harshly as he looks you over. Partially naked spread out over his bed picture perfect memory for those times when the darkness tries to steal this happiness. “Give me a moment to drink you in.” Unable to decide where to look first, “So fucking gorgeous.” Toeing off his boots, hands going to his own jeans your shaking head pausing the movements.

“I get the same pleasure,” licking your lips slowly while raising up on your elbows. Beckoning him with two crooked fingers, hand resting with the palms up beside your plush body, “Get up here before I get impatience and take matters into my own hands.”

Declaration making him pause a moment low growl rumbling from deep with in his chest. As desire blown green meet yours, smirk gracing his handsome features. One knee comes to rest on the mattress Dean leans forward keeping eyes locked while pressing a kiss to your ankle. Grinning, feeling the quiver that runs through your body. “You wouldn’t dare sweetheart,” adding his other knee to spread your legs and slowly fit his body between.

“Shall we make a bet Winchester?” Using your free foot to brushing the nearest thigh with the flat. Sliding towards the very noticeable bulge busting the seams of his jeans, toes teasing the thick ridge before pressing the flat of your foot against him. Rubbing the length slowly pleased when a growl echos the room.

Grabbing that foot tickling the pad enjoying the way you squirm and giggle. Taking the opportunity to move fully between your legs. “About that bet hum,” fingertips drawing an invisible path of fire down the middle your body. Bracing then both arms on either side of your shoulders hovering over you, warm breath fanning out over your cheek he nuzzles with stubbled chin. Pulling a whimper from your gasping lips.

Of there own accord, your hands slide up the strength of his arms and biceps to clasping fingers together around the back of his neck. Left leg draped over his waist to pull him against your pelvis, breathless moan parting your lips at the contact of his hard length pressing into your dripping center. “I don’t want slow or gentle Dean,” head tipping back to give access to his questing lips that find your wildly thumping pulse, sucking a mark into the soft skin. “We have all night for that I just…” words caught upon seeing whiskey flecked green eyes dilated almost pitch with desire. Cheshire Cat grin tugging kiss swollen lips upward.

“Just what sweetheart?” Humming, brushing your lips together before returning to his last spot. One hand dragging over your soft body cupping the generous globe massaging gently feeling the nipple peak against his palm. Teasingly circling the stiff nub with the tip of his index finger before giving a sharp pinch and making you gasp out. Back arching at the pleasurable pain skittering across your veins.

Grasping what’s left of your mind to try and form coherent words, body responding instead pressing your chest into his large hand. Nails score down his back, one completing the journey to give his ass a tight squeeze. As the other detours to between your intimately pressed body. Happy to find enough space to slot your palm against his erection, cupping his throbbing length and giving short little strokes. Smile blooming with a breathless groan against your collarbone where Dean’s forehead currently rests. Nimble fingers pop the small metal disk, pulling the zipper tab down to slip the hand inside. Warmth enveloping palm feeling him twitch has you slowly licking your lips at the mire thought of getting to taste him.

“You’re killing me Y/N,” rutting his hips into your hand, mouth coming back to claim yours in a punishingly bruising kill. Tangling your tongues together, nipping a little harder on your bottom lip than meaning to but the accompanying moan flows straight to his cock. Making him twitch against your palm that has slowed with the distraction of the kiss.

Breaking for air, panting while trying to form and speak the right words, “We’re both a little over dressed Dean.” Pulling your hand from the tight confines of his jeans, using the one at his ass to help pull them and his boxers down only stopping when you couldn’t reach anything passed his knees. Sigh of relief exists his parted lips making you giggle and press a kiss to his chin. “Feel better?” Bottom lip trapped and nibbled on as your fingers brush his length. Finding your fingers barely wrap around the girth while to stroke, palm sliding over precum leaking head. Hips thrust forward at the sensations tingling down his back gathering low in his belly.

“Now who’s over dressed?” Mumbling the words against your skin. Dean regretfully brushes your hand aside grinning at the annoyed huff that leaves your lips. “Ah sweetheart put that sexy pout away you’ll get a chance to taste me soon enough. Cause if you keep using that soft hand on my cock I’ll cum faster than I want.”

His words presenting so many thoughts to run through your mind only cut off when wet warm heat engulfs your right nipple. Tongue flicking quickly over taut peak, blunt teeth nipping then soothing over with the tip of his tongue. Switching to the twin leaving both sloppy wet and tight, gleaming in the low light of his room. Worshipping at the temple of your body with kisses pressed into your tummy, running scared callused hands over your skin in silent reverence. Eyes taking in very inch Dean sits back on his knees between your parted legs. Tracing his knuckles along the seam of your jeans covered cunt, making you jolt against him.

Pausing to strip your jeans and panties from your body, tossing them and kicking his own off to land somewhere on the floor. Raising up on elbows to finally get a chance to look at him in all his naked glory. Tracing each divot of scars over a broad chest, passing over the middle to admire thick bowed legs spread wide. Lips licked slowly upon landing on his ridge cock, slightly curved and resting against his lower belly. Palm itching for a touch, mouth watering for that taste. “You’re beautiful Dean,” words whispered so low your unsure if he’s really heard them.

Heat blooms over his cheeks at your admission, looking your fill of his adonis body. Dean returns the admiration. Tracing the features of your beloved face, staring a little too long at your heaving breasts, soft tummy he wants to nibble on at some point. Thick thighs he can’t wait to have wrapped around his waist once he’s buried deep inside your wet heat. The very though has his eyes dropping between your parted legs, glistening folds beckoning him forward. Caught in that tempting trance, Dean slides back between your legs. Brushing his lips just above your mound and receiving a whimper from you. Locking eyes, “I think you got that backwards sweetheart, it’s you who’s beautiful.” Dipping to run the thick flat of his tongue through your folds, humming at the tangy sweetness exploding over his taste buds.

Hips cantering against his mouth, your own letting a deep moan free as one hand slides down to card through his short brown locks. Tugging the strands getting a groan to vibrate against your cunt while his talented tongue dances through your soaked folds. Torturing your clit with ghosted touches, one arm wraps around our thigh spreading you open. As the other slips a finger inside your wet channel, finding you squeezing and tight, garnering a deep groan of arousal from the man between your lips.

“Dean,” voice wrecked and he’s barely touched you. When he doesn’t answer or budge from his sensual assault on your cunt. Lips having formed a perfect O around your clit, tongue flicking kitten licks to the tiny nerve filled nub. Pleased with he whimpers and whines that filter through his desire filled mind.

Resulting in you tugging on his hair harder, back arching as a small shock rocks through your body, tingling your belly when he bites carefully on your clit. “Dean please,” eyes rolling back into your head at the added second finger. Crooked and pressing into the little spongy spot you’ve never had anyone touch. Ripping a half scream from the hidden depths of your soul.

Smug smirk tugging over slick wet lips, stubbled chin coming to rest just above your mound. Watching as you heave a breath, breasts catching his eyes for a moment till you tug again. Fingers anything but still as they thrust and scissor you open, working you carefully to fit his slightly above average length not wanting to hurt you. “Yes sweetheart?” Licking his lips from your slick.

Free hand coming up to cover your heated face, “Don’t sound so smug,” gasping the last word when his thumb brushes over your clit making you jump and wither. Heat spreading from that special spot in your belly, where the tight coil starts to wind higher. Thick thighs tremble with each sensation Dean draws out of you. “Need you, please, please.”

Caressing your quivering walls with the gun callused pads of his fingers, massaging your clit as you plead. Breath chocked out on another moan, chest heavy, heat coating your skin as you wither under him. “Ah but I can’t help myself sweetheart you don’t know what seeing you like this does to me.”

Gathering what little strength you have in your limbs to reach down and cup his cheeks, thumbs brushing over the skin under his eyes. “Why don’t you get up here and show me Dean?” Voice wreaked yet a tender undertone rides through the cadence.

Pressing a single kiss to the pulsing little clit, giving once last flick making your squirm and Dean to chuckle. Slowly pulling his fingers out, stroking twice more your hips chasing the indescribable ecstasy winding its way through your veins. Only to have the tingles dance slower, the coil start to unwind as frustrated huff leaving your gasping lips.

Taking advantage to plunder your mouth, greedy for a sample of the wet cavern and a tongue tango that draws out a sharp moan of need. Especially tasting your tangy sweetness from his lips, sucking the bottom between your teeth to nibble. While reaching blindly over to the nightstand, damn near yanking the whole draw on the ground in his haste. “Give me a sec woman,” huffing out he rolls slightly off you. The noise drawing a giggle out causing him too stiffen, glancing back with a playful glare to refocus on finding his prize.

Using the opportunity to nose the thick column of his neck, taking in the scent of whiskey, leather and motor oil, peppered now with sex and sweat. Addicting and unable to help yourself from sink your teeth into his skin gently but hard enough to leave a small soon to purple mark. Soothing over with the flat of your tongue catching sight of the pause your actions caused. The aroused moan that leaves his lips, head resting on the bed to try and gather himself from your onslaught.

“Something wrong Dean?” Nipping just below his jaw, tracing your fingers along his side. Index finger swirling through the spares, crisp hairs leading a path to what you’ve craved to have inside you for a long time. Nimble fingers surround the base forming a perfect circle that can’t close but tightens. Stroking his length teasingly slow. In return receiving a warning growl — the sound devastating your senses making you throb — from the man currently fishing for a condom and growing frustrated when his fingers come up empty. “Shall I stop my love? Am I distracting you?” Whispered words breathed into his ear, lips kissing the shell. Knowing damn well just how tormenting you are to his senes and body. If his twitching cock your hand currently wrapping around stroking and the shallow breaths are any indication.

“Ha,” triumphant shout of accomplishment, Dean rolls back over you pressing bodies together and into the mattress. “Now where were we?” Flashing that teasing smirk with a hard rutting of his hips against your dripping core and tight fisted hand.

“What to you so long stud?” Biting back the giggles when he fixes you with a scowl.

Breath hissing out through clinched teeth when taking your hand off his cock, bringing those wickedly wonderful fingers to his lips and sucking on each one with a short nibble. Placing the open condom pack in your palm, “Do the honors sweetheart.”

Curling your fingers around the little foil packet, pressing your other hand into the back of his neck drawing Dean in for a tender kiss. Slow meld of your lips, light sips of your warm mouths. Tenderly tugging his bottom lip, to slide your tongue over the bruised skin and into his mouth. Licking and touring the heated cavern, seeking out ways to make his moan and grunt. A moment of forgetfulness while mapping his tonsils and sucking on his tongue, till you break for air. Chasing his mouth for more kisses only to receive a chuckle instead.

Eyes open to spear him with a heated look, foil packet crinkling in your hand a remind of your mission. Slipping fingers from his soft hair, to trace over his body, joining its partner between the two of your heaving bodies. Unlocking your eyes to glance down, hand wrapping back around his thick shaft to stroke twice getting a needy moan from the man above you. Before teasingly rolling the condom on paying special attention to the thick pulsing vein on the underside, mouth watering at the thoughts of getting to taste it later.

Dean grasps one of your hips to bring the leg around his waist, opening you up and feeling your soft skin under his palm. Sliding between your bodies to entwine his fingers with your, pumping his cock together. Different sounds, a hiss from Dean and a moan from you exists on shuttering breaths. Eyes reattach both blown with desire and coated in need, you notch the head of his cock at your entrance pressing the heel of your foot into the small of his back to urge him forward.

Teeth clamping to draw blood from your bottom lip but also to keep from screaming out in pleasure as he slowly sinks inside your quivering depths. Reaching up with his other hand to free your bruised lip, brushing the pad of his thumb over the glistening skin. “I wanna hear you sweetheart don’t hold back.”

“What about Sam?” Breath hitching, mouth hanging open on a moan that’s trapped on the edge of a scream when he bottoms out against you. Bodies flush, joined hands now resting above your head where Dean’s placed them.

Leaning in to press open mouth kisses to your lips and neck letting you adjust to his size, the exquisite stretch thumps through your veins the slight sting only heightening the pleasure. “Never mention his name while we’re in bed sweetheart,” snagging the lobe of your ear with his teeth. Pleased when you nod speechless, though not enough, “Words baby girl I wanna hear that prefect voice of yours.”

Swallowing trying to form words to answer, scoring your nails down his back an impatience mewling whimper leaves instead. Using the leg not wrapped around Dean’s waist as leverage to plant and push your hips up against him. Squeezing your walls tightly around his shaft drawing out a grunt from his lips. “Dean…” going to say more but he chooses that moment to pull out till just the crown rested inside your pulsing channel. “Just you…” hips snapping forward to fill you quickly stealing those words into a loud scream of ecstasy.

Starting a hard punishing rhythm, repeatedly waiting till your fixing to speak and either pulling out or trusting home. Always taking away what your going to say. Knowing your trapped between frustration and pleasure, Dean captures your mouth in another deep kiss. While his hips snap against yours, wrapping the other leg around his waist to angle you differently. Pressing your intertwined hands into the pillow beside your head and breaking the bruising kiss to gulp a lung full of air into both your burning lungs.

Feeling your walls start to quiver around his hammering cock, knowing by the pinched look on your countenance, the quivering of your thick thighs clutching at his trim waist. Heels pressing into the small of his back drawing him forward with quickened strokes that he’s shortened from the long deep thrusts. Notching your legs higher on his waist to press forward, curling his pelvis into your core, determined to make you cum first. Wanting to feel you soak his cock, see the looks of pleasure dance across your features.

Sliding his fingers through your soaked folds to find your pearl pulsing, pressing the pad of his thumb circling to make a gasp fly from your lips. Back arching, tingles no longer gentle but tap dancing a rhythm through your veins. Dean’s name a chant from your dry, parched lips, panting to try and fill your starving lungs. Body vibrating on a higher frequency only Dean’s turned in on as with every snap of his hips, brush of his thumb sends your spiraling deeper into euphoria.

Reaching up to wrap your hand around his neck to bring him back down for another kiss. This one sloppy as the thrusts of Dean’s hips, brief touches of lips, wet slide of your tongues across the other. Eyes sliding closed only to snap back open with a pinch to your nipple soothed over my his teasing fingers.

“Keep those beautiful eyes open for me sweetheart and cum for me I know your close. You just gotta let go for me,” resting your foreheads together, gritting his teeth to starve off his own orgasm. The wet clinch almost too much for Dean to handle. Always wondering but never imagining how good this truly would feel.

“Dean,” breathing out his name, a series of moans and whimpers following. Trying to capture his mouth for another kiss that’s broken off when your orgasm slams into you soaking Dean’s cock in your slick. Eyes rolling back his name a screamed prayer from your lips.

Body convulsing in pleasurable all consuming fire, little sparks of light pin prick behind your tightly closed eyes. Moisture breath fans out over your neck where Dean buries his face, lips pressing into your skin. Chasing that high while working you through your orgasm the wet clinch of your walls prove too much to starve off any long. Giving in with a groan of your name rubbed into your skin as he fills the condom. Circling his hips a few more times to drag out the pleasurable spikes racking his frame.

Collapsing into your arms a welcome weight pressing you into the mattress as you both try to capture your breath. He brings your joined hands down starting to untwine them but the shake of your head stops the actions.

“For a few moments longer,” voice hoarse from screaming out your pleasure. Free hand coming up to card through his sweat drenched hair. Brushing the strands back from his forehead and sliding your lips over his. Brief touches, lingering into something deeper. Tender caresses of mouth’s, nibbling, and sucking softly on bruised skin. Dean starts to move getting a whimpered whine from your throat tightening your arms around him.

“Gotta clear you up sweetheart I’m not going anywhere,” reassuring you with another soft kiss while carefully pulling out of your tender depths. Mesmerized by the slick coating your tights and dripping from your convulsing walls. Brushing his fingers over the reddening swollen skin, gasp reaching his ears, eyes flying up to yours. Then flicking across your body seeing the beard burn on your neck and chest, hand prints blooming over your hips. “Did I hurt you?”

Sitting up to cup his cheeks, “No Dean you didn’t hurt me. If you had I would’ve told you.” Leaning in to kiss him tendering, “Better take care of that mess it’ll get awful sticky otherwise,” giving him a bright smile. Watching while he gingerly takes the spent condom off, tying it closed before tossing it into the waste bin by the night stand.

Raising to walk on shaky bowed legs to grab up the wash cloth from the sink. Wetting with warm water he turns back stunned to find you watching him with a grin on your lips. “Like what you see?”

“Hmm no,” seeing the frown you go to finish. “Love Dean, I see the man I love,” frown switching to teasing smirk as he nears the bed.

Nudging you to lay back and spread your legs, tenderly wiping you clean. Dragging the warm cloth over your folds and inner thighs. Tossing it behind him to crawl into bed gathering your pliant plush body against his hard chest. Back pressed into his front, arms wrapped tightly around your thick waist. Placing a kiss to your shoulder, “I love to you Y/N, get some rest I’m far from through with you.”

Soft giggles vibrate into his chest, “Careful you’re getting old baby you sure you’ll have the stamina?” Toying with the fingers tapping against your tummy sending shivers cross your body.

Low growl accompanies the drag of his teeth over your sensitive skin, drawing a moan from your lips. Pressing his hips into your generous ass, “Give me an hour sweetheart and I’ll show you just how much stamina your man has.”