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rrxnjun · 1 year

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

1K notes · View notes

ateezlibrary · 3 months

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im going thru a major seonghwa brainrot and i just want a fic of him teasing her gf throughout a party and he takes her home mid function and edges her manhandles her leading to overstimulation ( he has a sir kink )

This is like my 2nd or 3rd time ever requesting an author so plz dont judge me i dont know how this works😭

coming undone. (seonghwa x reader)

summary: a silly little bet goes a little too far, causing a certain someone to go back on his bargain.

genre: pure smut (nsfw, mdni) (tw: sexual content, overstimulation)

word count: 2,714

the way that i just laughed at this request for the chaotic panicking lol as long as you don’t judge me for being a little rusty in my smut writing!

“Another round, my love?” you call over your shoulder as you stroll into the kitchen, peering into the fridge for the tonic water. Like clockwork, you reach for the handle of gin on the counter and mix yourself another drink. Yeosang rounds the corner to meet you, outstretching his hand with his solo cup prepared.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you laugh, measuring his mixture haphazardly before clinking your own cup against his. The familiar taste of ripe juniper berries meets your tongue, the alcohol warming your throat with its familiar burning sensation. From the living room, Hongjoong is fiddling with the playlist, save for when he circles the room to rearrange a pillow or put aside someone’s shoes.

“Is there a reason you’ve been staring at Hongjoong that I’m unaware of?” Yeosang teases, leaning against the wall beside the kitchen as he glances at you in amusement.

“I am not!” you retort, knocking back the rest of your drink before setting the cup down to mix another—only this time, it wasn’t for you. “He just looks like he needs a drink, is all.”

“Well, good luck with that,” Yeosang chuckles, rolling his eyes. He glances at the crowd exchanging lighters on the balcony with a nod in your direction. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

The playlist changes to its next track and the mood of the room shifts near instantly, settling into the smooth R&B beat that thrums against the walls. You sway as you walk, mouthing the lyrics as you snake through the crowd to the far end of the room where Hongjoong was perched beside the speakers.

“One gin and tonic,” you lilt, offering him the drink in your hands. He takes it with a soft chuckle under his breath, tilting his head back as the alcohol slid down his throat. You observe his neck hungrily, lips parted as you lean against the wall beside him.

“Think I’m doing the party justice?” he asks, his lips brushing against your ear so you could hear him above the music. He gestures to the speakers, though you barely register anything beyond the shudder down your spine.

“Absolutely,” you reply, reaching for his drink and taking a swig yourself. You’re about to continue bantering with him when, out of the corner of your eye, you notice something particularly interesting.

You watch as Seonghwa, clad in his all-black outfit you’d helped him pick out, stood beside a notably attractive guest of the night. Her long raven hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, her outfit a near twin to his. Her makeup compliments her features incredibly, smudges of dark eyeliner and a glossed lip. Seonghwa whispers something to her that causes her to throw her head back in a fit of laughter.

She rests a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head at whatever he could have possibly said. He gestures to her drink, seeming to offer her a refill before heading to the kitchen himself. You scoff at the sight, turning back to Hongjoong with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“You look fine as hell tonight,” Hongjoong comments, a lazy grin etched across his face as he takes another sip of his drink. You couldn’t tell if it was the jealousy nipping at your stomach, the warmth of the alcohol, or just sheer attraction to Hongjoong in the moment that was warming your face in response. “Trying to impress someone?”

“Hoping that it’s you?” you tease, your eyes trailing down his figure as you laugh.

“So what if I am?” He inches closer, turning his body so he’s hovering just above yours where you lean against the wall. Over Hongjoong’s shoulder, you meet Seonghwa’s eyes as he’s returning to the living room with drinks in hand for him and his plaything.

His gaze darkened as he pressed his tongue against his cheek, shaking his head as he returned to the girl waiting on her drink. Seonghwa drapes an arm around her waist, pulling her closer against his side as they resume their conversation.

“Do I get something in return for looking ‘fine as hell tonight’?” you poke at Hongjoong, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His breath hitches, fingertips ghosting down your sides and coming to rest at your waist in a tight grip. You hum under your breath at his touch, shifting your gaze to Seonghwa’s eyes that were now deadlocked on every move Hongjoong made.

Hook, line, and sinker.

“What do you want, princess?” Hongjoong asks in a low voice, one that would have had you melting in his arms before Seonghwa sifts through the crowd and pulls you away from him by your arm. You gasp in surprise, not looking back as he drags you with him towards the bathroom.

Finding a seat on top of the counter, you watch as Seonghwa hurriedly locks the door before turning to you. He settles between your legs, shoving them apart forcefully and pulling you close so that you were flush against his chest.

“I don’t want to play that game anymore,” he growls, one of his hands snaking up to your hair and pulling it back roughly so that you were forced to look at him. A laugh slips past your lips, though it’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the heat that crept towards your core at the way he was behaving.

“We haven’t even gotten into it yet,” you retort breathlessly with a greedy smile on your face. “And, this was your suggestion.”

A silly little wager. Seonghwa swore up and down before you’d left for the party tonight that he was not, nor would he ever be, the jealous type. You agreed, doubling down on your own belief that you weren’t the jealous type, either. Given how new your relationship was, you hadn’t had time to share the news with your friends—making tonight’s party the perfect scenario to test one another.

Though, it seems as though Seonghwa failed miserably.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he chuckles, his grip tightening on your hair as you let out an involuntary moan. “Playing with Hongjoong in front of me like that.”

“Oh, so we are the jealous type now?”

Seonghwa laughs again darkly, releasing his grip on your hair and sliding his hand down to wrap his fingers around your neck. He leans forward, ghosting his lips over yours as he whispers against them.

“So, you’d let Hongjoong fuck you tonight if I hadn’t stopped you?”

“No,” you answer, shuddering at the way he bites your bottom lip. You move to close your legs for some sort of friction to ease the nerves pricking at your core. Seonghwa notices what you’re doing, pressing your legs further apart with his in response.

“No, what?” he snarls, and you know what he’s expecting.

“No, sir.”

Seonghwa groans against your mouth before yanking you off of the counter and turning you to face the mirror in one swift motion. Neither of you had bothered to turn on the lights, your eyes adjusting to the dim moonlight filtered through the bathroom window. He held a hand to the nape of your neck, the other pressed into your waist so that you could feel every inch of him against your back.

“And you want me to fuck you tonight?” he asks, his voice a strained whisper against your ear. You say nothing in response, earning fingers pressed deeper into your waist. “Unravel you like the pretty little slut you are?”

“I—I,” you stutter between deep breaths, meeting his hungry gaze in the mirror with a moan.

“Use your words, babygirl.” He hikes up the satin fabric of your skirt, dancing a hand across your thigh dangerously close to your core.

“I need you to fuck me tonight,” you practically beg, feeling the way his length hardens against you at the way you whined for him. “Please.”

Without warning, he lets you go and moves to unlock the door.

“Let’s get going, then.”

* *

The two of you left the party in a flurry of hasty goodbyes, messy kisses in the elevator, and a car ride home with Seonghwa’s hand rested firmly on the inside of your thigh. You took not more than two steps into your shared apartment before he kicked the door shut behind him, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head against the entryway wall.

His lips meet yours hungrily, the two of you a tangled, moaning mess. You fight against his grip, desperate to run your hands through his raven hair. He only grabs your wrists tighter, trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your collarbone. You moan wantonly, arching your back to beg for more of his touch when he pulls away with a haughty laugh.

“Fuck, you sound so delicious,” he groans, almost immediately slipping his hand up your skirt and pressing his fingers against the soaked fabric of your underwear. “And you already feel even better.”

“Please,” you whisper, and he begins to brush over your clit in slow, tantalizing circles.

“Will you be a good girl and get my fingers wet for me?” Seonghwa asks, his own voice low as he begins to tug at the edge of your underwear expectantly. His eyes are hooded with lust, hair disheveled, and yet, you’ve never found him more attractive.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to get out before he plunges a finger into you. He falls into a steady rhythm, trailing his tongue back along your neck and biting down on your earlobe with another groan beneath his breath. Your stomach is in knots as you rock your hips against his hand, gripping on his shoulders to steady yourself as your legs grow weak.

“Please, don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly, dropping your head back against the wall with another series of moans. Seonghwa quickens his pace, slipping another finger into you and curling them against your walls. You whine at the sensitive touch, bucking your hips in approval. Your chest heaves as your breath is caught in the back of your throat, your core tightening as you feel your orgasm creeping beneath your skin.

“I-I’m going to—”

And out are Seonghwa’s fingers.

“What the fuck?” you snap, eyes wide as you stare at him angrily. He scoffs, licking the taste of you off of his fingers with a sly grin. You were seeing red, and for no good reason. You were close. So, so close.

Without an answer, he lifts you from behind your thighs so that your legs wrapped around his waist and carried you to the dining table. Pulling your skirt and underwear off, he pries your legs apart and stares down at you with a newfound lust in his eyes.

“Touch yourself.”

The command is so simple and so intense all at once. Your cheeks flush as you meet his eyes, the way he devoured every inch of your body on that table without so much as touching you. On one hand, you were tempted to push his buttons and tease him enough that he’d take you then and there.

On the other, you really wanted to come as soon as possible.

Biting at your bottom lip, you slip a hand between your legs and begin to rub against your clit in the same slow circles he was doing not long before. You notice the way his jeans tighten at his bulge, his cock twitching at the sight of you. He settles into one of the dining chairs, a front-row seat to the show you put on for him.

“Such a little slut for attention,” he purrs, pupils dilated as you slip a finger between your folds. You moan at his comment, pumping your finger quicker than before. He pulls you by your thighs so that his mouth is right at your entrance, suddenly moving your hands so that he can slip his tongue into you instead. The sudden shift urges you to arch your back, a drawn-out sigh escaping you.

The wave begins to rise more quickly this time, a response to not being able to come just moments earlier. You feel your breath hitch in your throat, the pressure building in your stomach as you’re about to warn Seonghwa.

And, like clockwork, he pulls away again.

“Seriously?” you bark as you sit up in disbelief. He grabs your chin, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip as he arches a brow.

“I’m still not convinced you want me to fuck you,” he remarks coolly, though the shakiness in his voice proves to you that he’s not far from coming undone himself. You pant desperately, beyond frustrated that two chances to find release slipped right past you.

“Please? Please make me come, I’ll beg as much as you want.” You inch towards the edge of the table again, grabbing desperately at the fabric of his shirt. On a good day, begging this much to be fucked felt beneath you—but after coming so close only to have it ripped away, you felt willing to do anything. “I’ll be as loud as you want, just don’t stop.”

“Fuck,” Seonghwa growls again, unfastening his pants and hooking his arms behind your legs as he positions himself at your entrance. He shoves himself into you, falling into a steady rhythm as he rocks his hips against yours. Your toes curl at the pleasure gnawing at your core, the way he hits the right spot with every move.

Pulling your legs over his shoulders, he angles himself to thrust even deeper into you. The sensation causes you to moan even louder, throwing your head back as you writhed against his touch. You could hear the way he was struggling to contain himself, his breathing fast and shallow.

“Look at me when you come,” he commands breathlessly, fisting your hair in his hand and forcing you to crane your neck to meet his eyes. You could barely keep focus as you felt your orgasm rising at the pit of your stomach, gnawing at your walls and at every thrust he made into you. With one final gasp, you shudder as the orgasm rocked your body and forced you to come undone all over his cock.

Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath when you realized—Seonghwa wasn’t slowing down.

“I still haven’t come.” An intoxicated smirk dances across his lips as you watch the way he puts himself into every thrust into you. You clench around him tightly, panting at the added sensation that came from your nerves falling apart.

“Ah, fuck—!” You nearly scream at the sensation, the way he continued to bury himself deep within you even though you were far beyond your breaking point. “S-Seonghwa, I can’t—I—”

“You can take more, babygirl,” he pants, pushing you over the edge just as he did before. The second orgasm shatters every last nerve inside of you, your legs weak and your core nearly numb from the overdose of pleasure.

“Please—fuck!” You finally let out a guttural scream, shuddering as Seonghwa rubs tight circles against your clit. Swollen and throbbing from the release, yet still somehow so responsive. You jerk your hips erratically against his touch, feeling his pace grow unsteady as he finally succumbed to his release.

He slides your legs off of his shoulders, chest heaving as he helps you to sit up and steady yourself. You’re shaking and completely undone, yet somehow more satisfied than ever.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, scanning you for any signs of regret or that he’d done too much. You pull him in for a gentle kiss, the gentlest act either of you had engaged in all night.

Finally able to catch your breath, you pull away with a lopsided grin of your own and ask, “So, you are the jealous type, huh?”

#screaming crying throwing up #i hope u enjoy #seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #smut #oneshot

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heian-era-housewife · 1 month

Note

I read ur shiu/toji x reader omegaverse fanfic and let me just say THAT SHIT WAS A BANGER!!! I was writing this to see if u could write a gojo and geto x reader omegaverse fanfic, plz!! (Love the writing very sigma)

Thank you so much!!! 💕

That was my first time dipping into the (sometimes very confusing/intricate) but equally fun and interesting omegaverse. I know everyone has their own interpretations, and I'm probably playing a bit fast and loose with the "rules" of the genre, but I'm glad you enjoyed it!

Thanks also for your request! Apologies for the wait. Things have been a bit hectic lately, but I hope I've done the dynamic duo justice.

Synopsis | When Gojo makes an unexpected discovery, he turns to you for advice. Luckily, you know just the person who can help. How will things "heat up" when your mate Geto enters the scene?

Content | mdni 18+, f!reader x gojo x geto, omegaverse, threesome, oral (f receiving), sex (mm/fm), swearing, biting/marking, mention of blood.

A/N | This fic takes place in the dorms of Juju Tech during their latter student days. All characters are 18+

Word Count | 2.7k

When a knock came on your dormroom door in the middle of the night, the last person you expected to see was a sweating, panting Satoru Gojo.

Top of your class and possibly the strongest sorcerer the world had ever known, Gojo was every bit the alpha everyone knew him to be. Though his reputation preceded him, you knew him best as just plain Satoru. Lover of sweets and showing off. Best friend and perfect foil to your boyfriend, Suguru Geto, not to mention the only one who could rival him in both looks and talent. There was only one explanation as to why he'd be here, at your door, a flushed and pitiful mess.

"I told you not to overdo it." You chided, ushering him in. "You know you can't keep up with those guys."

It wasn't the first time you'd seen him sloppy drunk, but you were surprised he'd come to you rather than stay with the rest of the group. Where everyone else had gone out for drinks and karaoke, you had opted for a quiet night at home.

Grabbing a damp cloth, you blotted his sweat-stained brow as he threw himself on your shabby dormroom couch.

"You know, for an alpha you're quite the lightweight." You teased.

"I'm...not." He panted, eyes downcast.

"Okay. Deny it all you want, but I've seen you drink."

"No...I..."

"It's a little sad, really" you chuckled to yourself.

"No!" He snapped, startling you from your ramblings."I'm...I'm not an alpha..." he finished.

You blinked, the cloth you were holding now hovering just above him where you froze in place. A drip landing squarely on his forehead the only movement as you stared, stark still and speechless. He pushed your hand away.

"I'm not an alpha and I'm not drunk." He said matter-of-factly. "I think I'm in heat."

"Satoru, I-"

"That's why I'm here." He continued. "I wanted to know what you do. How you usually deal with it."

"Oh..." You paused awkwardly, hand drifting to the mark on your neck. "Well, Geto and I usually..."

"Before that, I mean. Before you and Geto got together, what did you do?" He urged, frustration building.

"I was lucky." You said softly. "Geto was there for my first heat. I never had to go it alone."

"I see..."

Words eluded you as you stared at your friend. Satoru Gojo, the Satoru Gojo...an omega?

"Who else knows-"

"No one." He cut you off before you could finish. "Not a soul. I didn’t even know for sure until...well until tonight."

You'd heard of these kinds of things happening. A presumed omega presenting later in life as an alpha when they hit their first rut. A supposed alpha suddenly ripe with sweet smelling pheromones and an urge to nest. Though rare, these things did happen. Just not to people you knew. And certainly not to someone like Satoru Gojo. If your head was spinning, you could only imagine how he felt. His ice blue eyes met yours with a pleading look. You chewed the inside of your cheek as you thought.

It's true you had always been spoiled. While others were forced to slump through their partnerless heats, you had Geto from the very start. At the first sign, he would help you with your nests, staying over in your dorm and skipping classes as needed. He had both the empathy and tenderness to talk you through the worst of your discomfort, as well as the strength and stamina to bed you down any which way and as many times as you needed. A proverbial beauty and beast in one perfect package.

And then there was Gojo. Now that you were thinking on it, Gojo had his own way of being there for you too, whether or not he even realized. Always coming by with snacks and movies. His sweatshirts accidentally making their way into your nests whenever he and Geto swapped by mistake. His voice often the last you'd hear before drifting to sleep as the two friends laughed late into the night in the room beside you.

In a way, dating Geto was sort of like having two partners. They came as a package deal. Gojo was a constant presence within your relationship, at times making you wonder if you were the third wheel, not the other way around. And though his swaggering overconfidence and crude humor were in stark contrast to Geto's quiet assurance and even-temper, there was something so alluring, almost necessary, about the opposing qualities that made you yearn for both.

You couldn't believe what you were about to say. Couldn't stop the words from coming, nor the shameful excitement from welling in your chest. Here was something you never thought possible- something you'd only dared to imagine in your silkiest daydreams, unfolding right before you. A chance to make those dreams a reality. A chance to have your cake and eat it too.

"You know...this might sound crazy," you began tentatively, articulating each word as carefully as if it might detonate upon delivery. "We could ask Suguru if he might be willing to-"

"Ask Suguru what now?" Just then the door swung open causing both you and Gojo to jump. Your wide and guilty looking eyes met those of your boyfriend as he strode into the dorm, his look of worry turning to relief then quickly back to worry. "I've been looking all over for you," he tutted at Gojo. "The way you ran off earlier I thought-"

Geto's words hitched in his throat. He was struck by something hauntingly familiar, causing his mind to race and skin to prickle. The intoxicating scent of heat and slick flooded his senses, goading him as if by some invisible force. He looked at you, confusion written across his face. You weren't due for another heat yet. And even if you were, why was Gojo here in the middle of the night instead of him? In fact, why was Gojo here at all? A hailstorm of emotion rained down in dizzying waves as Geto reached desperately for answers through the haze of sickly sweet pheromones.

He looked to his friend, gaze settling over his brilliant hair and porcelain skin, momentarily adrift in the vast sea of those crystal blue eyes. Suddenly feeling inexplicably shy, he glanced downward noticing the gentle part in his lips, the subtle curve of his neck, the supple skin he wished he could just...bite...

"You..." he breathed, realization dawning. "It's you."

Gojo nodded slowly.

More silence. The would-be lovers bound by the chains of forced friendship and repressed feelings.

You cleared your throat. "Suguru, I was just saying maybe-"

"Yes!" He cut you off, connecting the words unspoken. "Yes. Sorry. I mean if...if that's..."

You couldn't help the smile that crept across your face, or the way your hand clasped eagerly around Gojo's, heart racing as he squeezed back.

Geto knelt by the couch, face serious as the next several minutes were spent in earnest discussion.

Fondness and pheromones aside, he wasn't about to jeopardize his relationship with his mate, nor his best friend. As the three of you spoke, mutual attraction, the façade of friendship, and years' worth of unrequitted feelings unveiled themselves between blushing cheeks and downcast eyes. Only after everyone's intentions and desires were made clear, did he allow the fog of infatuation to take its hold.

"Let's get you comfortable, shall we?" Geto said, scooping Gojo's lanky form with ease as he carried him toward the bedroom. You had to stifle a laugh at Gojo's unconvincing protests, pampered grin betraying his utter delight at being carried despite his string of objections. Geto tossed him playfully onto the plush mattress where you were collecting items for a nest that held just as much of your essence as it did Geto's.

Gojo nuzzled in to the scent-laden fabric, the harsh edge of discomfort starting to melt away from his handsome features, but there was still only one thing that could ease the bristling affliction of a standing heat.

You gave Gojo a devious grin, eager to show him something even his six eyes would find awe-inspiring. Slowly you began to help Geto undress.

Gojo moaned, brows knit together as he leaned into Geto's sultry kisses. He'd been stripped down and sat on the edge of the bed, your arms and legs wrapping around from behind him. Reaching around, you gently stroked his pretty two-toned cock while the two men explored each other's trembling lips. His blushing pink tip leaked silky pearls into your hand while you ran your palm over his generous length.

When Gojo's moans turned to pleading whines and his hips began rutting hungrily into your fist, Geto leaned forward, pressing his wet lips to yours over Gojo's shoulder, before he scooped his friend once more, pulling him gently from your grip and helping him wrap his long legs around his cinched waist. Gojo threw his head back, rubbing his length in languid strokes over Geto's rigid abs. The raven-haired sorcerer burried his face in the crook of Gojo's moonlit neck, breathing him in. Together, they rocked, arms wrapped tightly around one another before a drawn-out whimper from Gojo sent his friend into a tantric storm of thrusting that pushed Gojo's back against the room's wooden panelling, one of Geto's hands planted firmly on Gojo's ass, the other plastered flat against the wall beside his head. Twisting kisses drawing gasping breaths from his pounding chest, every thrust sinking Geto's aching cock to the hilt.

Watching your boyfriend fuck the life out of Gojo against your dormroom wall was sending you into a dizzying heat of your own. Slick stained the sheets beneath you as you rubbed your throbbing clit to the beat of their movements. You couldn't help but lose yourself in the beautifully fucked out expression of Gojo who appeared to be reaching his limits.

"Fuckk" he rasped, pausing long enough to pull his hair from his elastic, black tresses falling over sculpted shoulders in a way that made you crave him even more.

"Suguru..." you pleaded, no longer satisfied just being a spectator.

Gojo's feet hit the floor before Geto spun him in place, using a firm hand on the back of his neck to bend him over onto the matress before plunging his greedy cock back into his sweet-smelling slick.

"I'm getting -fuck- I'm getting closer," Geto panted. "He's so fucking tight. Maybe you can t-talk him through it for me."

Snowy bangs, now doused in sweat clung to Gojo's feverish brow. Brushing them gently away, you pressed a cool kiss to his forehead, praising the sorcerer. With his hands in yours, soft words of encouragement fell from your lips, faces low to the dormroom matress, his rocking in time to powerful thrusts.

"You're doing so good, just a little longer." You cooed. Gojo nodded in reply, pink tongue hanging from his open mouth, drawing ragged breaths.

He arched his back into Geto's sharp thrusts, hips lifting from the matress, his leaky tip drawing dewy lines over the bedding as his heavy cock bounced in perfect rythm to the movement.

"I-I need it," he breathed. "This is torture, I need it." Gojo looked desperate- starved.

"I know, baby. He's almost there," you assured him.

"No, hahhh," he moaned, a wild look darkening his radiant gaze. "I need you," he urged. "Want t'taste you."

His words caught you by complete surprise, stunned he could even think straight the way Geto was railing him into your mattress- thrilled that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

"Oh fuuu-" he rutted his ass back into a gasping Geto, flashing that feral smile as he dragged you toward him, firm grip on your hips. Geto's eyes widened as he watched Gojo spread your plush thighs, licking his way to the source of your slick.

With each rock forward, Gojo thrust his tongue deeper into your slit, drinking you in. Your squirms fueled his hunger, soft tongue dipping into you over and over, but it wasn't enough. He needed more.

Geto couldn't look away. He stared, hips slowing their movements as he watched Gojo plunge not two, but three long fingers into your sopping cunt- the one Geto would usually be servicing himself. He stopped moving entirely, mouth going dry. In turn, Gojo stopped too, craning his neck to look at the man behind him.

For a moment, Gojo froze, thinking he'd gone too far, fearing his friend may be having second thoughts about sharing his beloved mate. Then, Geto found his voice, heavy thrusts picking up as he spoke.

"Get under him." It was more of an order than a suggestion.

"What?" You said, struck again by the unexpected.

"Get under him. Please." His eyes met yours in desperate yearning. "I need to watch you fuck each other." His eyes rolled back at the thought, while he pumped his cock into the very man he wanted to see you under.

You and Gojo exchanged a look. Hungry. Excited. Aching for one another. You didn't need to be asked again.

You mewled as Gojo stretched you on his impressive length, deep veins dragging deliciously against your gummy walls. You sucked him in eagerly, shameless squelches sounding from the slick that now coated your inner thighs.

How was this happening? How did you get here?

Not long ago you were spending a peaceful evening alone. Now you found yourself staring up at the two most beautiful men you knew, both inside and out, from where you lay underneath their swaying bodies.

Geto stood beside the bed, fingers tight on Gojo's hips, gorgeous bangs falling softly over his flushed face. Each breath from his open mouth sent them fluttering forward before coming to rest again on his inviting lips.

What a sight to behold.

Gojo leaned down to whisper in your ear, cheek resting against yours, a wry smile twisting his lips as he spoke your own words back to you.

"You're doing so good, just a little longer."

"Ngh...I-"

"Shhh..." he hushed your words with an empassioned kiss causing you to clench on his length."Let's -hahh- show Suguru how good we can c-cum for him."

A final smack from his heavy balls was all it took to set you off. Slick poured from your core as you doused him in your pleasure. A thirsty groan was pulled from his chest at the rush of your walls closing in on his girth. Without thinking, Gojo leaned in to the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth savagely over Geto's mark. Heavy loads of hot cum filled you as his groans of pleasure vibrated against your broken skin.

Geto picked up speed. A familiar, wild look in his eyes, blown pupils turning them to lustful pools of inky black.

"Fuckkk!" He growled, hands coming down on either side of your head as he laid his body across Gojo's broad back. You knew what was coming next.

"S-Satoru." You said, stroking his frosted locks. He groaned a reply, still firmly attached to the spot on your neck. "Take my hand."

Your fingers intertwined just in time to see Geto throw himself over Gojo's shoulder, biting down hard on the base of his neck. The two men moaned their rapture as Gojo squeezed the life from your hand. His glossy lips, now tinged with blood, trembled delicately as he whimpered. You knew too well, Geto's knot was substantial.

"That's it, 'Toru." You cooed.

You felt his body tense from the stretch, felt him pulse with each spurt as Geto unloaded. Little pearls of hot seed dripped onto your quivering thighs below. You could only imagine how full poor Gojo must be if there was enough to slide past that soul-splitting knot.

The two collapsed in a shared exhale, your soft praises offering sweet comfort to the weary man between you.

Gojo peered up at you from where his head rested on your chest. "Now what?" He asked, relying on your seasoned know-how.

You parted his flattened hair and smoothed his brow with another assuring kiss. "Now we wait." Geto gave you a knowing smile from over Gojo's shoulder, chin resting on folded hands, nothing but love in his tired eyes.

"Now we wait."

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goingmerryfics · 5 months

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Hi I love your fics and I think the ‘sitting on their lap while they’re not paying attention’ is so cute! Could you do that prompt with Enel and Shanks? 👉👈 sfw plz

Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Enel, & Shanks

Content: Gender neutral reader, SFW

Notes* Enel has never come to mind when writing these little prompts so this is new! I had to go back and watch a bit of Skypiea to remember what he's like haha. Shank’s gets a little handsy, but nothing dramatic.

Enel

Enel cannot be caught off guard, but he’ll tolerate your mischievous ways if he likes you well enough

So when you casually stroll up to his makeshift throne and plop yourself down, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word at first, or even react too much past smirking behind your gaze.

He’s laid out in a lazy position, so sitting on his lap is a little awkward- but you manage by shifting yourself forward. You can’t see his face at this angle, but maybe that’s a good thing

He’s confident, and this little maneuver is not going to fluster him. He is intrigued, though.

His amusement for the situation is painted all over his face, even if you can’t see that from where you’re sitting

“Ah, sitting in the lap of power itself. I suppose I can't blame you.”

He shifts and sits up as he speaks, careful not to move you off of him

Knowing that he approves your antics now, you can actually release the tension in your shoulders with a sigh and lean back in your spot

One hand reaches around your body to put a hand on your cheek and turn your head to look directly at him

“Were you trying to fluster me? I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that if you want to see me blush. Still, I appreciate how direct you are. Perhaps I can have you do this more often.”

He sticks to his word on that, too. Whenever he’s sat in his seat for whatever reason, he makes sure to call for you so you can accompany him, especially for meals

You’ve kind of become his little pet in a way

Shanks

Shanks is wasted when you swing over the barstool and place yourself in his lap

It’s so smooth and easy to do, there’s really a multitude of ways you could ‘catch him off guard’, which makes you question how he’s become so feared sometimes

He's so focused on finishing his drink that he doesn't even really notice the added weight

His arm immediately wraps around your middle, both to keep you close and also to keep himself from falling off the stool

He mumbles something in his drunken state, which you can kind of translate into, “What tricks are you up to?”

He doesn’t even waste time before he pulls you in for a kiss, too. He tastes like whiskey and an incoming hangover

His hand goes from your back to your hips with obvious intention, but you stop him where he’s at, knowing he’s heavily under the influence and it would be unwise to let him go too far

“Come on now, where’d that shyness come from?”

He barely gets the words out. He looks like he’s going to pass out

Not a minute later, you and Benn are carrying him to his room on the ship as he snores, limp in both of your arms

You leave him a glass of water and some painkillers at his bedside since he’ll need them in the morning, but you don’t actually see him until the following afternoon

You ask if he’d partied too hard, and he laughs before he pulls you close to him just like he did last night

“I may have been drunk off my ass, but I still remember a certain someone sitting on my lap.”

You really didn’t think that he would’ve remembered that, and he laughs at how red you go so quickly

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #shanks x reader #op shanks #one piece shanks #red haired shanks #enel one piece #god enel #enel op #enel x reader

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mingtinysworld · 9 months

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Addicted {Part l}

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x fem!reader

Genre: drug dealer au, strangers to lovers, angst, smut, sprinkle of fluff:)

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: You are infatuated with the mystery that is Park Seonghwa, and try to get to know him. Instead you are met with doubts and a life threatening situation.

Warnings: minors DNI, fingering, unprotected sex (plz don’t), drugs obviously, slightly subby seonghwa, humiliation kink, dry humping, slight violence

A/n: hi guys! This is my first fic ever!! I’m trying my best and I plan to improve my writing in the future ofc. Please be kind, and I do not mind constructive criticism. I hope you enjoy and please reblog if you liked it;) mwah - J

⇝ Part 2 of Addicted

・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・

The different sounds and smells around you were so distracting that it made you dizzy. You’re not even sure what convinced you to come to this insane party. Was it the nagging of your best friend Wooyoung, or the knowledge that the Park Seonghwa would be there? Who knows.

Park Seonghwa. Who would’ve thought that someone like you could be infatuated with a dangerous man like him. You were always the innocent kind. Never going to any parties, always studying at home, never even having a boyfriend yet. The typical straight A student. However, you met Seonghwa once in the halls of your university, accidentally bumping into him and losing your balance. You felt your cheeks burning up as Seonghwa held your arms, steadying you. His deep and somber gaze made your heart stutter. Not a single word was exchanged, however you were drawn to him from that day, even if it was morbid curiosity.

According to Wooyoung, Seonghwa was a drug dealer. He went to parties to find his loyal customers, and any curious wanderers. Other than that, nothing much was known about the very mysterious man. Which should’ve set off fire alarms in your little brain, but you chose to brush it off. Instead, you were determined to find out everything you could about your new obsession.

You stand in a corner watching Seonghwa carefully. He’s so quiet, you wonder what he’s thinking. Does he like parties? Does he like to sleep early? Does he like to read? Woah woah why do I care so much. I’m definitely too invested. You scoff at how ridiculous you’re being. As you begin to step away from the wall to find Wooyoung, Seonghwa meets your eyes. It’s almost like you’re being physically held down, it’s hard to even breathe. You feel a magnetic pull towards him and start walking mindlessly.

“Hi” you manage to say breathlessly. He stares for a beat longer. “What’s your name?” His voice is beautiful. Smooth like chocolate with a hint of rasp. “M-my name is y/n.” You fidget in place from your nerves. “A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” There’s a hint of a smile on his perfect face. Taken aback you start “So what-“ Before finishing your sentence, sirens are all around you. You’re able to see flashes of red and blue before Seonghwa snatches your hand and drags you away from the living room.

You stumble into an empty storage room in a bout of confusion. You start to speak but Seonghwa shushes you. “Shh it’s ok, I know this is scary. We just have to stay here until it’s over.” You want to ask more questions, but his hot body against yours is incredibly distracting. You start to wonder whether the police were for Seonghwa. Even if it was, you couldn’t care less. You liked being with him and were not about to give this up.

While you’re lost in your thoughts, you start to notice something poking against your thigh. You look at him in disbelief and see his sheepish expression. “Are you seriously turned on right now?” You whisper yell. He turns his head in embarrassment and you never thought you would see Seonghwa in this position ever. “I’m sorry I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you’re just so close and oh god,” he rambles off and you can’t help a smirk.

Trying to test the waters, you start moving your leg up and down his crotch. He lets out a desperate whine, and looks immediately ashamed. Feeling proud of yourself, you taunt him. “I can’t believe you’re hard right now, shouldn’t you be terrified of getting caught? Oh, maybe that’s what you want huh.” When he turns his head to you, the air is sucked out of your lungs. His eyes are glossy, filled with pleading.

As you continue your actions, his noises get louder. He grips your hips roughly and keeps you from moving. “Y/n, please I’m gonna come, I wanna come in you.” Flustered, you move off him, and he turns your back to face the wall. In a dazed few seconds your skirt and panties are off and his lips are on yours. He mumbles into your mouth, “you thought you were in charge huh. I don’t think so. Don't worry, I'm gonna take care of you.” When you’re about to respond, he shoves two fingers into your heat. No need to go slow from the amount of wetness that was gushing out of you.

As he thrusts his fingers into you, your head feels like it’s full of cotton. You can’t focus on anything. The sounds from outside the room don’t even compare to the loud squelches and moans coming from you. His fingers are perfectly hitting your sensitive spot, and you can swear black spots appear in your vision. He bends them at a perfect angle, draining your sanity. After a few more minutes, your stomach tightens and you feel like you’re about to explode. “Seonghwa, I-i don’t think I’m,” the thread snaps and you come with heaving breaths. “Holy shit that was…” You have never come so hard before, and you feel so dazed. He grabs the back of your thigh and lifts it up. “Can I?”

You nod, granting him permission, and he enters you inch by inch. Slowly the pain turns into pleasure, and he starts to move faster. His thrusts turn almost animalistic and your back is slamming against the wall. Too far gone with the pleasure you don’t even acknowledge your back literally breaking.

Trying to take in the moment, you see Seonghwa’s bangs getting into his eyes, and his tiny ponytail bobbing up and down. The thought of pulling his ponytail enters your brain, but you’re quick to shake it off, your climax approaching yet again. “Come on baby, come for me,” Seonghwa rasps out. With quick circles on your clit, you cry out as you come all over his cock, creating rings of sticky cum around it.

As you come down from your high, you look at Seonghwa with hooded eyes. He’s panting like he just ran a marathon, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. He looks majestic, like a whole different species of a being. His tattoo on his neck is calling to you, the urge to mark him as yours so strong you physically hold yourself back. You realize you may be addicted to him. He’s staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“Seonghwa, perhaps you should get your dick out of me?” He shakes out of his trance and lets out a little laugh. As he pulls out, you both grimace with the loss of warmth. “You’re something else Y/n, you know that?” You feel a blush coming on, and feel the need to change the conversation. “Are you trying to butter me up so I can buy some drugs from you?”

He sputters in surprise. “Absolutely not, oh my god. Is that all you think of me as?” You take a second to think. It’s not that that’s all you think of Seonghwa as, but you don’t know much else about him. “No, but I do need to get to know you more. If you’d allow me of course.” You make a point to flutter your lashes. You notice his whole body stiffening, stepping away from you. “O-or not, that’s ok as well. You don’t have to…” Flustered, you start grabbing your clothes, and in a hurry leave the room. Seonghwa stays rooted to his spot, not sure what to do.

The embarrassment hits you while you walk home in the chilly night. You shouldn’t have assumed that Seonghwa would want to get to know you more personally. He probably thought of you as just another girl to fuck, just some fun for the night. You can’t get him out of your head, he seems so special and you need him, like a drug. Ironic huh.

So consumed by your thoughts, you don’t notice the group of men tailing you. As they get closer, you start to involuntarily shiver. Deciding to turn around, you’re met with faces of four scary looking men. You start to scream, but a hand is quickly placed over your mouth, muffling your pleads for help.

“So, this is Seonghwa’s new girl. What are you doing with a man like that, sweet thing? You look so…pure, and innocent.” Your blood freezes as he trails his finger down your face, his hot breath making you nauseous. They decide to let you speak.

“I barely know him, I only ever talked to him for the first time today. What do you want from me?” You manage shakily. They all laugh at you, thinking it’s so cute how clueless you are. The biggest man steps forward with giant tattoos spanning across his collarbones. “Oh sweetheart, you’re our key to revenge,” he bends down to eye level, and whispers. “And you are just so, so perfect.” In a split second your vision goes dark as your knees give out, hitting the hard concrete. How are you going to get out of this?

#ateez scenarios #ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez angst #ateez fic #ateez #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa smut #addicted #mingtinysworld

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whatdoeseverybodywant · 10 months

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Can you do a story where jey starts dating this girl and she is veryyyyy independent and like to do everything her self but jey has to always tell her to sit down and let him do basically Ms.I can do it myself meets mr.sit tf down imma do it plz 🤭

🌹** This is my first ever fic request for @mya2real. I hope you like it. ❤️

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site, even if you give me credit. DO NOT REPOST MY FICS

Reblogs, comments, likes, and feedback ALWAYS appreciated ❤

Taglist: @christinabae@southerngirl41@reci24@jeyusos-girl@jeyusosgirl@melaninsugababy@baconeggndcheez@bemybabiibish@jstarr86@nbanenefrmdao@purplehairgawdess@arination99@alyyaanna@m3llowww@gomussy@jeysbae@babysyhsy @bebesobrielo@empressdede@venusesworld@harmshake@mustafumilf@theninthwonder @badbitchcentralinc @alyyaanna @romansnumberonegirl

Noelle was a do-er. She’s been that way her whole life. She learned from an early age that she could only count on herself to get shit done. She thought that was a good quality to have but her boyfriend Josh did not. Now, don’t get him wrong he absolutely loved Noelle but her ‘i can do it myself’ attitude made him feel not needed.

It was a Saturday afternoon and Noelle had run to the store to get some groceries to make dinner. He paused his game and smiled when he heard the door to their shared apartment open but Josh’s smile dropped from his face as he watched his girlfriend struggle to open the front door and hold onto the grocery bags. He sighed as he stood up from the couch to help her.

“Why you ain't call me Noelle? I would’ve came down and helped you.” He said taking the bags out of her hands and walking into the kitchen to place them on the counter. His frown deepened when she flagged him off.

“I had it Josh.” She said as she started to put the groceries away. He sucked his teeth, as he watched her try to reach up and put something away on the top shelf. He waited for her to ask for his help and when she didn’t he gently picked her up and moved her aside before putting the cans on the top shelf. “Thank you.”

“You know I can help you with stuff right? You don’t have to do everything yourself.” Noelle stopped putting groceries away and turned to face him.

“I’m sorry. You know I just like to do everything myself.”

“Aight, but I'm here now. You ain’t gotta do everything ya self. It’s okay to sit ya’ ass down sometimes.” Noelle furrowed her eyebrows at the tone of his voice. He actually sounded mad at her.

“Are you seriously mad at me right now?”

“No, I'm not mad Noelle..” He sighed “Just, let me help you.” She walked up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it upsets you.”

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, trailing off. “I just don’t want to feel useless. You know?”

Noelle frowned and lifted her head off his cheat to look him in his eyes. “What? You're not useless Josh.”

“I’m not?” He scoffed. “You damn near do everything without ever asking for help.” She opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off. “You changed a flat tire the other day. In the rain. You coulda called me, that’s what I’m here for.” Now Noelle felt bad, she wasn’t use to being treated this way, by any of her boyfriends, they all were pretty happy that she did everything and never asked them for help.

When she didn’t reply Josh cupped her cheek in his. “Let me take care of you, Noelle.” He muttered leaning down, capturing her lips in a sweet, soft kiss. “It’s what I'm here for.” Noelle sighed and melted into the kiss. When he pulled away she nodded.

“Okay,” She whispered, “I can let you take care of me.”

“Good.” Josh said, smiling wide. “Gotta take care of my princess right?”

ehh... i'm sorry it's so short. This is my first time writing what someone else wants lol so I hope I didn't disappoint. Hopefully I can get better with more request ❤️

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hotxcheeto · 1 year

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whassup love. i’m obsessed with your fics. plz plz PLZZZ could you write a dom!abby x fem reader where they’re just like sweetly hanging out in the library together and reading but abby can’t keep their hands off you 😩 please i need filthy abby smut in my life ily

━ 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, smut, fingering ( r! receiving ), oral sex ( r! receiving ), kissing, use of 'good girl', reading while doing the devils tango(? is that a warning idk but here u go) dom!abby, sub!reader

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!! STARTING OF HORRIBLE WITH THIS MESS. my eyes burn and i've been writing this for 2 months cause i kept wanting to cry in between. life sucks, go do something fun... just dont get arrested plz.

PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK! IT'S VERY APPRECIATED!!

"The castle.. was- was like no other place she'd ever bee- ah!"

You didn't even try to look at her, knowing what sight would behold you and what consequence would follow.

But you could feel her.

Her warm tongue lapping over your clit again and again as she ate you out like she'd been starving. Fingers fucking themselves in and out of your hole, running against your walls and every spot that made you want to scream.

Your body ached with anticipation of the release that wouldn't arrive. Rutting your hips against her face but she counteracted, smacking your ass and gripping the plush of your thighs to keep your lower half down on the cushion.

Every limb and inch of skin that was a part of you glistened from the perspiration of your activities. You were so hot, overwhelmed, but you couldn't get enough.

Despite the risk of being caught in the very public 'library'.

"Keep reading, baby."

Her voice cut through your hazy mind like a sharp knife. You blinked once, then twice, focusing back on the blurry words while trying salivate your dry mouth and sore throat.

She was sweet at first, cuddling with you on the couch you were now spread open on. Kissing and massaging you while you read to her, and you still were reading to her, but this time it was a lot harder.

"No hou-house could ever top- th- the place sh- Abby!" You whined and babbled, squirming and jerking away from her mouth. "-she stood in now."

A few more sentences and the chapter would be over.

"What happened next?" You knew she'd already read this book before, she knew what happened. But you had a prettier voice, especially when you cried.

"There was someone on- on the- the-" You paused, rubbing your eyes, a soft whimper escaping but it instead earned you a light smack your clit, your entire body jolting in surprise.

"Keep going baby.. you can do this." Her voice had a sickeningly sweet comforting tone to it. It was a true promise with a false lure.

"Now." She then added, looking up at your face that was peering just past the side of the book in order to see her. You pouted but nonetheless looked back at the paragraph, her fingers moving in and out at a slower pace now.

"... the throne. It was a woman.." You continued to read to her, Abby's tongue quickly returning to trace figure eights on your little clit again and again.

"She was gorgeous.." Voice quiet as you began, soft and light moans following, "...and had long braids cascading down her shoulders onto her- oh my God Abby!" You accidentally dropped the book, letting it fall onto your bare chest while your hand covered your mouth.

You grabbed at the back of the couch, your other hand grasping at her arm. She'd added another finger, slamming into you at full force before curling her fingers against your special spot.

"Oh yeah?" She asked, tilting her head, pieces of hair that had fallen from her braid framing her face. "How's that baby?" You looked down through your haze of desperation.

"Really good Abby." Her smile curled up at your statement, her head leaning back down towards your cunt. "Pick it back up, you're almost done."

You wanted to cry, eyes unfocused on the words again, sniffling softly as your thighs tried to squeeze around her only for her to push them down once again.

"...onto her shoulders. She had golden armor. Looking at her, it was obvious to-to anyo-one she was the-" The loud muffled squeal you let out was almost as obnoxious as the squelching, sloppy sounds of your girlfriend between your legs.

"What was she, babe?" Abby teased, taking her mouth away for only a second before returning to her earlier motions. "-the- the princess."

You had finished. A cliffhanger you didn't care about and a page you wouldn't and couldn't remember was where the book was left. Abby plucking it from your fingers as soon as the final words were muttered from your lips.

"That's it..." Abby muttered, setting it aside before her bruising touch returned to your sore thighs. "Ready?"

Your high had fallen away for umpteenth time as she paused to admire your face. Your body pained and sweaty whilst she tilted her head innocently.

"Answer me with words, not nods." You took a second to hear her voice before making a noise as you tried to speak. Your hips bucking towards her mouth.

"Mhm. Please."

"Please what?"

Now she was just cruel.

"Abby please make me cum, please.."

"That's my girl.."

But you loved it.

You didn't get a warning but you doubted that you wanted one. A scream erupting from your throat when the tip of her tongue flicked over your clit. Her lips soon wrapping around it while her fingers quickly found themselves a home deep inside your cunt once again.

"Oh- mmph-" Your head hit the cushion of the couch when it flew back, one of your hands falling to her shoulder while the other held her head. "Oh my God!"

Your face was so hot and again your belly coiled up, legs shaking and you began to believe she'd let you go again. But there she stayed, fucking her fingers in and out while toying with your bundle of nerves.

"Abby m'gonna-" She smiled at what you were saying, but didn't even look up. "-please can I?" Ever the good girl you were.

"Go ahead, baby." She muttered against your wetness, continuing to eat you like you were her last meal. And it showed in your shaking calves and thumbing heart, your eyes rolling back until they squeezed themselves shut.

And just like that, you came with a moan, dipping your nails into her skin until crescents formed. The vibration from her groan in reaction against your clit nearly made you scream. Though, your hand fell over your mouth before your vocal chords got the chance to alert everyone in a mile radius.

"You did so good.." She finally spoke up, lifting her head from your middle but still kept her grip. "How about another?"

You practically cried, shaking her head as she played with your hole, moving in and out slowly. Agonizing almost, but you still managed to try and push her away only for her the chuckle.

"I can't Abb... you teased too much.." She scoffed at what you said, raising herself over your body to kiss your lips. Smiling at the sound of your whine when she pulled back. "Since when has that been a problem?"

You hummed dramatically, playing with the end of her messy braid.

"I was trying to read and you took my pants off." She snorted, licking her lips while feeling your body shift against her own. "In my defense you looked really fucking good." "Abby!"

She held onto your knees while she sat up, looking over your shape. Thumbs rubbing circles onto the fat of your thighs.

"Just one more?" You stared as she asked, a cocky grin on her lips. "I dunno…" "Oh c'mon... please? For me?"

Staring into her gaze, you quietly debated in your mind.

"Fine."

"That's my girl."

A/n: my eyes burn

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x reader #abby x you #abby x reader #the last of us #the last of us x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson tlou2 #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #nevy writes

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rlphunter · 1 year

Text

My Girl | Bob Floyd

description: Your relationship with Bob is a secret and Phoenix sets you up with someone else

warnings: bad writing, nothing else. if I need to add let me know!

ship: bob floyd x reader

authors note: this is my first fic that I have posted on here! plz be nice lol

You could feel Bob’s eyes on you as you walked through the Hard Deck. He didn’t say anything. A quick look was exchanged before Rooster put a drink in your hand. Your relationship with Bob was a secret. He did not like being the center of attention and knew there would be jokes made at your guys’ expense. Bob could feel the hiding was hurting you but did not know how to change his feelings about it. Nat’s voice took him out of his turmoil as he heard her shout your call sign, Spice, one he coined, and gives you a big embrace. “Spice, I found the perfect man for you”, Bob sees you blush and try to shut Nat down but she is having none of it. It does not go unnoticed that you are refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Spice, just go on one date with him and then I won’t try to set you up again. Scouts honuor” Your laugh rings through the bar as you link pinkies with Phoenix. “In faaaact he is coming in 10 minutes' '. Bob’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. He murmurs some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom, he doesn’t wait for any response. What can he do? He put you in the position where you can’t say that the true reason you can’t go on this date is because you’re dating Bob. He yearns for you to knock on the door and say Robby “let me just humour her, you know I only got eyes for you.” He imagines the light blush that would be on your face and curses himself once again.

Bob is introduced back to the Hard Deck by hearing your laughter. He sees the guy tuck some hair that got in your face and his hand lingers there till you take a step back. The WSO’s silence as he goes back to the squad’s table is noticed as Rooster gives him a supportive nod. He and Phoenix have led the charge of trying to get Bob to confess his feelings to you but little did they know that he had done it two months ago and you and him had been in a committed relationship since.

In private Bob did the whole ten yards. He knew you had been in some bad relationships and he wanted to show you that you were worthy of love. You wanted the love shown in the movies and he tried his best to give that to you but he knew it was not enough. Bob took Roosters beer out of his hand and finished it off in a sip, he ignored the curious stares from his friends and headed towards you. A quick excuse me fell from his lips as he dipped you and gave you a kiss that expressed everything he hadn’t said in the past two months.

A smile that rivaled the world’s greatest beauties was coming from your face and Bob knew he did the right thing. “I love you, so much”, “I love you too Robby”. Without looking back Bob pulled you out of the Hard Deck and back to your apartment.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun #top gun x reader #robert floyd x reader #top gun maverick #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun x y/n #top gun x you #lewis pullman #robert bob floyd #fan fic

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izukuisbaby · 2 years

Text

⊹˚.⋆ MAFIA BOSS RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS - TOJI FUSHIGURO

⋆ flora's notes : okay so i am half dead and i can't answer dms and messages in my inbox just yet, I am so so tired these days it's midterm week... but this took 10 minutes to write cuz it's literally the scenarios i have before I sleep- plz forgive me 4 my inactivity school is kicking my a$$

⋆ thank you : for being so patient, interactive and supportive with me. your daily messages, dms, reblogs and comments mean so much. I can't thank you enough 4 the continuous support even though I'm not as active as I used to (*coughs* school)

⋆ female, gn, male reader friendly AND THIS IS IS PURE TOJI FLUFF, it doesn't hurt in those kinktober times (i admire yall who are able to post a full ass fic every single day it must be so tiring)

m.list | comment and reblog if u enjoyed !

℘. mafiaboss!toji lets you into his office whenever you want. he has an office in your estate, where he has "safe meetings" and you can come in at all times. you will never interrupt his meeting, it's his meeting interrupting your moment.

℘. mafiaboss!toji shoos away his visitors so he can listen to your hassles and every thought. he will put you on his lap and gently stroke your temples to soothe your worries away.

℘. mafiaboss!toji makes time for you. you want to go shopping ? he's giving you his card and full attention. there's this new ice cream shop you want to try out ? someone else can host his meeting, he's going out. perks of being the boss, he can delegate. he lets others do his job if it means he gets to make you happy.

℘. mafiaboss!toji likes having you sleep on top of him, your legs around his hips, your head in the crook of his neck and his hand on top of your hair. he holds you close to him, he wants to protect you.

℘. mafiaboss!toji 's second fav sleeping position is spooning. obviously, he's the big spoon and he simply will not allow you to sleep on the door's side, just in case... his hold around your waist is always a bit tight, but it reassures him to have your skin against his

℘. mafiaboss!toji will not let someone else drive you around. he knows he got lucky with his partner and doesn't want to risk you being uncomfortable because of another man hitting on you. especially in a confined space like a car, you would be unable to escape. he will personally insist on taking you to and from work, that way he's sure you're safe.

℘. mafiaboss!toji won't ever tell you that he mostly wants to drive you because he wants to hear how your day went. he loves listening to you complain about your boss, being proud of yourself for getting that one deal you wanted, finishing the paperwork that was annoying you all week...

℘. mafiaboss!toji moves heaven and earth to get you the opportunities you want. he's extremely proud of you for working so hard every day to have your dream job and he won't let someone else take your place. he will have a word with the CEO, always in a respectful way. he's an influential man, he doesn't need to threaten.

℘. mafiaboss!toji spoils you. obviously ??? all of his incomes go straight into gifts for you. getaway weekend to your dream destination, luxury goods, fancy attire and nightgowns, makeup products, shoes EVERYTHING YOU WANT, YOU GET.

℘. mafiaboss!toji owns a building in which his mob mates live and work. but he has an entire floor for your penthouse. it's at the top of the building, with huge windows and gigantic rooms. and of course, luxury appliances and furniture.

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hugemilkshake · 6 months

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.....like can I send in a cookie run kingdom prompt thing? If so here is one...and I'd like this to be a one-shot plz! Also your writing with your other stories are good so don't stress too much about this! I'm sure you'll be fine! And if ya want feel free to ignore it.

So I got this idea while reading some self aware au fics...where reader is taken from the human world and brought into the cookie world.

The reader, a selfless workaholic, was working like always but then gets taken into the world of cookies! They were surprised they ended up in the cookie run world and decide to try their best in this amazing new world they loved, ready to work hard for the cookies to keep em happy and so on....buuuut that's when they discover how much the cookies love em. They start doing everything for y/n so that way y/n could finally rest and relax. You can go crazy with whatever scenarios you want of y/n trying to do stuff for the cookies buuut cookies stop y/n so y/n stops working or of cookies spoiling the hell out of y/n. Like cookies do their best to make sure y/n is happy, safe and relaxed. Also throw in whatever cookies encounters and stuff you want!

Hope you have fun with it and feel free if you don't feel up to it!

I hope you enjoy the milkshake! Now I might not be the best at writing self aware stuff since this is my first time writing it

Just relax

-self aware AU-

-platonic-

Part 2, part 3

Another long day of work… you rested your head before feeling a vibration from your phone. It was a coworker… asking if you could take their shift…. Again…

Ugh… did they not see that you were tired? But you couldn’t say no… you just couldn’t…

You had some time before having to return to work so you scrolled through the App Store until you came across a cute game franchise called Cookie Run. You decided to buy three of the games, the one that caught your attention was Cookie Run: Kingdom.

It was so charming, the way you could interact with the cookies and decorate your own kingdom was so nice, and in over a month you had gotten all the cookies and decors, which sounds a little crazy but this game was kinda like your escape from your job.

But with this you had gotten very very fatigued. You couldn’t remember when the last time you had a proper meal… or a full night of sleep… or when you saw your family last… or when you didn’t have to work… or when your friends talked to you last…

You were practically on the verge of breaking down, the only thing’s keeping you from going insane was the silly cookie games on your phone.

Now… you might’ve been going crazy but you swear that the cookies were talking to… like directly. It could be sleep deprivation making you hear things but it was still very odd.

But you might’ve hit a breaking point. You finally passed out. You had just gotten a notice that you were getting evicted from your apartment and you didn’t really have anything so all you did was clean up any trash that was left around, and by the time you were done it was midnight and your boss had the AUDACITY to ask you to do even more work… at that point you passed out. Either from exhaustion or stress it was probably both tbh

…

But when you woke up you weren’t in your apartment.. you were in a comfortable bed.. that had… candy like details…? You tried to get up and out of the bed but someone quickly jumped up and had you lay back down.

“Please son’t sit up too fast! You’re exhausted. You shouldn’t be moving too much, here let me get you some food, just wait here…” A gentle voice told you…. It was also familiar…

The person returned and set a tray right next to the bed, you saw that they looked familiar…

“I hope your not in any pain… I’m Strawberry Cookie by the way…” Strawberry Cookie spoke “Please just try to relax…”

You tried to speak but your throat hurt a lot… like to an unnatural degree.. but you were quite hungry so you decided to take a bite out of one the the star jellies i front of you. Now when you took a bite… something clicked in your head.

You thought you were dreaming but this felt way to real… the bed.. the food.. everything was too real.

And the realized you felt sore.. not just your throat hurt, everything hurt. You went to rub your temples but your skin felt less oily and more… doughy..?

You wanted answers and Strawberry Cookie was aware of this, so she started to speak once more.

“…I know your probably really confused about what’s happening and I am too… but it’s important for you to not get up and move around… your dough is still getting used to the temperature..”

Dough… what…? What was happening…?

“Just… please don’t stress to much… try to relax… please..?”

…

So you were a cookie now..

Interesting

Well it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be

I mean- you can’t walk and talking is a little difficult but you’re treated like royalty

Like you try to get up and do something and Strawberry Cookie has to guilt trip ask you to lay back down

But Strawberry Cookie wasn’t the only one who visited you

Gingerbrave, Wizard Cookie and Custard Cookie the lll visited you the most

Strawberry Cookie try’s to make sure your feeling alright and gets you food

Gingerbrave tells you what’s currently happening in EarthBread and, you kinda knew what was happening but hearing it more in detail was a little frightening

Wizard Cookie tries to understand how someone your age could have dough as soft as your- and by soft I mean dough like.

And Custard Cookie the lll just talks about how he’s going to be a great prince king and how fun some of the adventures he’s been on!

But out of all of them, the one thing they had in common was making sure you didn’t get up to do anything

You physically cannot do anything without someone making a fuss over it

It was actually kinda nice…

#crk #cookie run #crk x reader #crk self aware

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greensagephase · 5 days

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Just realized how much I love the way you write your Miguel. Like instead of oversexualizing, making him animalistic or just straight up a dick (even tho he kindof is sometimes, let's be honest-)

I just love how you dive in his current trauma (not too long ago his mom got zombified like marvel give bro a break plz), include trust issues and his mental problems, while not breaking his character. You made him stubborn, a little proud, but still show slight vulnerability, and so many unsaid words. Hell, you might be one of the best Miguel writers I've ever seen on here!

I love the slow burn in NC, it makes Miguel seem more like a real person, with unbearable trauma and trust issues, who's main way to 'cope' is "by leading a society of Peter Parkers who can't pay their rent on time" (from the ATSV artbook), and as someone with a mental health too similar to Miguel's I can see myself in him (THAT'S A COMPLIMENT) with a slow build of trust

While I sometimes do enjoy a bit of smut, most of the time, it's too fast. Too quick, like- CALM DOWN LADIES (and gents), I DON'T THINK MIGUEL'S GONNA EAT YOU OUT ON THE COUNTER IN THE KITCHEN LIKE EMPANADAS

ALSO DID U KNO HE'S BI???

Hiii, Dino!!! Thank you for the ask, pookie!! 🥰 Also, I'm sorry for taking a few days to answer your ask. I took a few days off tumblr due to life :))

But omg, thank you!! I appreciate the kind words so much, and I’m happy that you love NC!Miguel and the slow burn! 🥹 Also, I’m glad you appreciate the acknowledgement of Miguel’s issues, traumas, and mental state within the fic. I’m no expert; no psychologist nor professional writer, but as the story expanded, I decided that I’d like to dive into Miguel’s story a little more, this being a Spider-Man Miguel fic after all, and one that’s attempting to portray Miguel as realistic as possible (or at least the way I see him and think he’d be like), so that entails including his issues, traumas, and mental state, too.

I know this has led to some chapters being a little delicate, overwhelming, and/or sad (and I’m sorry to anyone who has ever felt down or cried reading NC because they resonated with this content, or the emotions got a little too much. This has never been my intention ):), but I believe it’s important to address, especially because his issues, traumas, and mental state overall are big contributors to his behaviour and mindset in ATSV. As I said, I’m no expert, but just from what I learned in college and have learned throughout the years with personal experiences (seen close people dealing with similar issues like those Miguel has faced and is facing), I know healing from such traumas is important to move forward with life. I also know it takes time, which is a big reason why this fic is a slow burn.

I want Miguel to find himself in a healthy and positive mindset, learn to trust others, and know that he is worthy of love and friendships before he finds himself in a romantic relationship. I’ve yapped too much, but I’m glad that you appreciate that, even though these can be sensitive themes/discussions. Thank you! Also, I’m touched that you can see yourself in NC!Miguel and how he slowly begins to allow himself to trust someone. I hope that as the story progresses, you can continue to see yourself in him in a non-harmful way (I never wish to portray mental health negatively nor disrespect/offend someone)! 💖

And hehehe, your comment about the smut and empanadas has me laughing! 🤣 But I hope you can find more fics with a slower pace regarding that aspect though! I know there’s awesome and talented writers who continue to write for Miguel on here that feed my delusions about this man and post very regularly (thank you Miguel writers - ily 🥰), so keep your eyes open and support what you enjoy reading!!

ALSO, yes, but also no?? I saw a tweet a very long time ago of Oscar Isaac apparently saying Miguel was bi, but idk if it’s canon because I haven’t read any of the comics 😞 (all the plot lines within NC that align with the comics have been researched from other sources). Is it confirmed in the comics? :))

Thank you so much for the ask!! I hope you’re having a great day/night, Dino!! Pls take care!! 🫶🏼💖

Alondra❤️

#I just want Miguel to heal and move forward #to get a happy ending in my fic at least #why do the writers (the professional ones) hate Miguel so much???#give this man a break!!#spider-verse writers I beg you to give him a happy ending pls #alondra's answers 🍁#nonviolent communication #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

Note

i luv your writes so much! I haven't been able to read many fics these past weeks bc of work life ugh but im catching up AND LET ME TELL U YOUR FICS DON'T DISAPPOINT!!! (LIKE UR SMUTTY ONES HOLY COW🐄)

ANYWAY HAV A GOOD NIGHT HOHOHOHUHUHUHUUHEHEHE *FLIES AWAY*

i may or may not hav sent this while high ssshhhg

PLZ- glad you're feeling happy lmao

"Comfort of your Body"

Recom Mansk x Human f. Y/N

(Saw someone post these ducks and it's amazing)

A/N: it's getting way too warm and summery for my liking

Masterlist

Summary: Injured and tired Mansk returns to Bridgehead after the final battle. He finds his girlfriend Y/N in his room, waiting for him and needs her to distract him from the horrible mission. (1K special request from @emzerdoo)

WARNINGS: SMUT, fluff, angst, death, injuries, sub Mansk, dom Y/N, edging, blowjob, penetration, breeding kink, size difference

Word Count: 4415 (a bit shorter, I have so much to write)

Today’s mission had been exceptionally brutal for the recoms. Not that the mission had changed. They still had to hunt down and kill Jake Sully. But today, most of them didn’t make it back home.

Mansk was one of the three who had survived today. Quaritch and Lyle had made it out of the battle alive too, but everyone was in a bad condition.

Flying back on the Ikran was almost impossible because the Marines were so terribly exhausted. They had to wait a few hours for an aircraft to come and get them.

Returning to base, they were all ordered to go to the medical centre immediately. Lyle needed it the most because he had a concussion after his rough fall on deck. Quaritch needed rest and quite frankly so did Mansk. That’s why Mansk refused to stay in the emergency room. He was too tired and still too shocked by the near-death experience that he couldn’t be around people now. He just needed his quiet, his bed and you.

Before going to your room which was all he really wanted to do, he forced himself to go to the showers first. Every step of the way pained him and while under the water he was getting flashbacks of almost drowning in the wreckage. The memories made it difficult for him to stand still. The wounds as well. He hissed and flinched when the water came in contact with his open and fresh injuries until he couldn’t bare it anymore. He wanted to collapse into his bed and have you by his side because in what he thought were his last moments, he had to face the likelihood of never seeing you again.

He had found some fresh clothes for himself which he put on while holding the blood-stained gear of today in his right hand. Mansk limped through the now eerily quiet hallways of the recom dorms. They were quiet now. Usually, the team would be constantly walking through them but now he was alone. There was no team. The remaining bits of it were suffering in the medical rooms.

Finally, he reached his door. He stopped in front of it, leaning against the doorframe in an attempt to gather himself.

Whenever he would leave for a mission he would have to leave you behind. To comfort yourself, you found it helpful waiting in his room rather than yours. Not only was it bigger to fit him, but it smelled like him and he would often find you asleep in his bed when he would return.

Today, I couldn’t sleep. Something felt off as I waited for my boyfriend Mansk to return. I was in his bed, sitting upright while I hugged his pillow and stared at the door. My eyes find the electronic clock which showed me that it was past midnight. The time worried me more. Mansk was never this late. They always returned before 9 or 10 pm so that everyone would be fit for the next day.

The uncertain and uneasy concern was eating me alive as I waited for hours. Dreadful thoughts filled me, making me worry about whether something had happened to him. Maybe he was hurt or maybe he wasn’t even alive. Perhaps they were looking for him and that’s why it took the recom’s so long or perhaps none of them had made it back…

I too had noticed, how quiet the hallway outside his room was. No one in his squad had returned. It made me sick to my stomach to think about what could have happened.

My eyes occasionally teared up and I would bury my face into the pillow from time to time and inhale his scent. If I tried hard enough, it would seem like he was here with me.

Suddenly I heard faint shuffling in the hall and it stopped right outside my door. For a few moments, there was just silence.

Then I saw the door handle move and my heart stopped beating in anticipation.

To my relief, Mansk stepped into the room and I noticed how his eyes searched for me. His body visibly relaxed when he saw me sitting on his bed. But he looked clearly exhausted and weakened.

“Mansk-” I say, immediately getting up and hurriedly walking over to him. His stressed gaze softened when he saw me and his ears drooped in relaxation as he gently nudged the door closed before kneeling down in front of me.

We were roughly the same height now that he was on the ground and once he opened his large arms to me, I threw myself at him and buried my face in his shoulder while we hugged.

Mansk tightly wrapped his arms around me, holding me as close as possible to him. One of his hands rose and he cradled the back of my head. He pressed his face into the crook of my neck and kept it there for a few moments, inhaling my scent which would comfort him while I refused to unwrap my arms from around his neck.

He was alive and okay. And mainly, we were together.

After a few minutes, we slowly pull away from the hug but we don’t let each other go. I look up at him and he’s looking at me with watery eyes filled with sorrow, while his hands hold my body and caress my cheek.

“I was worried…” I whisper, placing my smaller hand on top of his one which was resting on my cheek. We gaze at each other, never seeming to want to look away.

“Me too…” he softly answered and I noticed how gruff his voice was even through the whisper. He must have been shouting a lot.

“Are you okay?” I ask, scanning over him with worry in my eyes.

He hesitates to answer for a second before he tenses and nods. “Yeah.” he breathily says. I can tell he only means physically okay even though I can see lots of scratches and bruises.

“Oh, Mansk…” I sigh, cupping his cheeks into my palms. Seeing him so distraught made my heart break. His tired and sad eyes meet mine again and feel how his fingers tremble.

“I’m so happy you’re here.” he whispers, pulling my head to his so that our foreheads are pressing against each other. I small smile forms on my lips and I hold onto him again while he calms down in my presence.

“I’m happy to see you too.” I reply, softly. My hands gently hold him and I kiss him on the cheek before we look at each other again.

“Let me take care of you.”

His tired eyes open slightly wider than before and his ears perk forwards, granting me his attention. That offer sounds so good to him, Mansk can’t help but nod.

I take his large hand into both of mine and he slowly gets up and off the ground, following me to his bed. My plan is to relax him so that he could fall asleep easier.

Mansk was a strong man, no doubting that. That applied to him both physically and emotionally. But this lifestyle takes a toll on everyone and it has its side effects. He would often become disassociated from reality and would be completely submerged in his thoughts. The thoughts and memories often haunted him, not letting him forget the gruesome images he has seen. That is also why Mansk would struggle to fall and stay asleep. Sometimes he would lay in bed for hours without being able to close his eyes properly. And even if he would manage to fall asleep due to exhaustion, he would dream of those burdening things and therefore never wakes up well rested.

It really isn’t fair on him, so you try your best to help ease his problems. He once told you that your presence at night helps him sleep and stay calm. So sleeping in his room has become a pleasant and regular experience.

Mansk sat down on the side, his soft gaze not leaving me as he watched me guide him. I could see through the faint smile on his lips that he was thankful.

“Take them off, please.” I say with a smile, pointing at his sweatpants and top. Mansk listened without hesitation, removing his clothes so that he is only left in his underwear. This wasn’t the first time I would help him relax so he roughly knew how I liked to do it. Usually, I massage and worship his body in a way that has him drifting off to sleep. Small, gentle touches ease his pain and let him forget everything except for him and me.

In the end, I lay on him and we fall asleep together.

Mansk enjoys being close to you and feeling your warm skin pressed against his. Ever since he met you, he’s been feeling better all around. His nights aren’t as long and torturous and his days are brighter. He’s told you before, even if you wave it off, he knows he wouldn’t have been able to hold on and stay strong for as long as he is if he were alone.

Mansk lay down on the bed, letting his heavy head fall back into the soft pillow. The rest of his body weakly slumped into the mattress.

He was looking forward to seeing you all day, he would have been all fidgety and antsy if he weren’t so tired.

I climb onto the bed with him and straddle his waist with a smile on my face. I hovered above his upper waist because otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to reach his face. He was already melting against me. I loved how easily I could maneuvre him.

My hands trailed up and down his torso, making small shivers erupt from him. The size difference between us made things more interesting and apparently my small hands felt nice. He just needed small and gentle touches so I traced his stripes and drew circles around the small specks of luminescent light in his pretty blue skin.

Occasionally, my eyes would return to scan over his face and when I notice that his eyes are fluttering closed and his breathing is faint, I feel better about what I’m doing. His body was still and not a single muscle was strained or tense.

I felt such love for him I couldn’t hold back on worshipping him more, so I leaned forward and started placing gentle kisses along his torso. I don’t usually do this so it took Mansk by surprise and his eyes opened to watch me before he lay his head back and hummed in approval. His eyes close once more so he can focus on the feeling but the darkness brings back the distressing images of his mission. Quickly, they open once more and I notice the small jump and the fast action.

I stop and sit up, looking at him in worry. Was he in pain or did I do something to make him flinch?

“Are you alright?” I ask, placing a palm on his chest to comfort him. Mansk inhales deeply before sighing and rubbing his eye.

“Yeah- sorry.” his quiet and tired voice replies.

“Don’t apologise.” I say, scooting closer and rubbing a soothing circle over his tattoo. He nods a little, running the hand over his face and taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, leaning onto him.

I notice his sad eyes staring at the ceiling before they meet mine.

“No…” he whispers. Mansk wasn’t the person to talk about things. I told him it was unhealthy and he really was getting better, but I knew that there were certain things he has to go through that he prefers not to tell me. Mainly so that I don’t have to be burdened by the violent images like he is.

I stay quiet for a while, thinking about what to do but then Mansk breaks the silence.

“I just- I need to think about somethin’ else.” he says, tilting his head to lock eyes with me. I tilt mine to the side, wondering what he means.

“I want to think about you.” Mansk adds and his words surprise me. I catch on to what he’s saying. He wants to be distracted by me, from his mission.

“If it will make you feel better…” I say, leaning forward so that my face is above his.

“It will.” he reassures me, raising a hand and soothingly cupping my face. “Please.”

I can’t say no when he begs and asks so nicely. A smile forms on my lips, informing him that I’m agreeing to his plea. His hand suddenly grows firm on my cheek and his long fingers reach the back of my head. He then pulls my face down to his and presses our lips together.

It had been a few days since I saw him last, so I missed the warm feeling of his kiss.

Mansk was eager to continue it, not wanting it to end. I understood that this helped him forget his worries so I wanted it to last longer too.

My hands once again roamed his chest and I started tracing my fingers over his muscles, slowly reaching his abs. I broke the kiss to move lower down his body so that I could kiss his flexed and toned stomach. He wasn’t happy about the loss of contact but he let me do what I wanted.

My lips softly pressed against his skin, making his breathing hitch as he watched me work my way down his huge torso. I smiled up at him before sticking the tip of my tongue out and trailing it over his ab muscles which tensed even more at the touch.

I took my time, wanting him to know I appreciated him. While focusing on his slim waist, I sit back on him and my movements faltered for a second when I hear Mansk whimper. My eyes shoot up to his face and I notice the faint blush on his cheeks and the way his ears wilt to the sides. Then I look back at me, noticing I sat on his crotch. A grin paints my face and I grind down against him, watching him suck in a swift breath through clenched teeth. I can also feel him slowly hardening under me.

“Aw, you feeling good?” I ask him in a teasing manner. He nods, staring at my lower half that’s sitting on him.

“Please, Y/N.” he breathes out and his hands slide up my thighs but I gently push them away.

“No touching. Just lay back.” I whisper, slowly pushing his chest back down into the mattress. Mansk doesn’t fight it and listens, letting his body fall back.

If he needs a long distraction I’ll give him one.

My fingertips graze his skin again, softly tickling his blue body. I could tell that his senses had heightened through his building arousal. Mansk’s heartbeat increased and his breath became heavier and deeper. He lost his rhythm of breathing due to occasionally gasping when I could nibble and kiss his now sensitive skin.

Slowly, I dip my fingers beneath the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging it down inch for inch. Mansk shudders beneath me and slightly lifts his waist up, eagerly wanting me to hurry. But I won’t.

However, I do comply with stripping down his last bit of clothing, pulling it down his legs and throwing it on the floor next to the bed.

He exhales in a form of relief. Apparently, clothes get uncomfortable and feel restricting on Na’vi when they are aroused. So Mansk preferred to always take everything off which I thought was funny because he would spend his days completely covered in long sleeves and pants.

“God you look so good-” I breathe out, running my flattened palms up his thighs. He sighs in enjoyment and I notice his blush return. I feel over his v-line, before resting my hands right next to where he’s desiring my touch most.

My eyes once again meet his and he’s lovingly staring at me. His eyes are soft and half-lidded and his lips are lightly parted.

“Do you want me to touch you?” I ask, making his ears twitch.

“Yeah-” he breathes out, locking his eyes on my hand which was daringly close to his crotch.

“How bad?” I ask, wanting to push all the begging out of him.

“Please, don’t tease.” he asks, looking at me with pleading eyes. I can see how tired and desperate he is, so I was going to spare him.

“Okay, okay.” I say with a smile, gently wrapping my hand around him. At least I attempt to wrap it around him. My fingertips don’t reach, there is a small space separating them.

Mansk shakily exhales as I slowly stroke him. I move my body in between his legs, kneeling in the space between his knees while my hands work and warm him up.

His head drops back down into the pillows and he lets me take complete control.

I lower my face down to his level. At this point in our relationship I know the things he loves, so I do my best to pleasure him.

I nuzzle my face against the side of his shaft, kissing along his warm skin.

Mansk’s mouth drops open and his eyes flutter closed.

I stick my tongue out, licking a sloppy stripe from his base to the tip of his dick. His skin is speckled with goosebumps as I do so.

I swirl my tongue around his tip, hearing a small groan escape him.

Continuing my work, I move back down and lick over his balls, cupping them with my free hand while stroking him with the other.

“Shit-” he sighs. Mansk’s tail is excitedly thudding against the mattress.

I switch it up again, kissing my way to the top of his now almost fully erect dick. My lips wrap around his tip and I lightly suck on it while Mansk balls up his fists and groans in pleasure. Even just the tip has my mouth filled.

“Feels so good.” he whines, clenching his eyes closed.

I can taste the precum on my tongue as it mixes with my saliva. Then I feel Mansk lightly buck his hips up and I get the message.

I open my mouth wider and start to slowly take more of him into my mouth, each time I bob my head.

Small grunts escape his lips as he raises his head and fights the urge to thrust up into me again.

Every time Mansk gets close to cumming I stop my movements, just kissing the skin of his abdomen until he’s calmed down before riling him up again. He wanted to forget about his problems so I would make sure of that.

It’s becoming messy and sloppy. Mansk has a death grip on the pillow, refusing to let go because he doesn’t want to force you further down him. He is amazing at holding back and letting you take control of him.

Sweat is rolling down his forehead and his skin is glistening and moist from it. His veins were bulging out of his skin and all his muscles are flexed as he tries his best to stay still and lay down while you edge him for probably the fourth time.

He was whimpering, begging me to let him cum but I wasn’t going to let him cum like this. I knew he enjoyed this and I was simply trying to prolong his pleasure.

“Y/N, please-” he chokes out. His eyes have become glossy and his dick is pulsing because it’s so painfully hard.

“Not yet, baby. Hold on.” I smile at him, cleaning off the sticky pre cum that dripped down his shaft and all over my hand.

He hisses through his clenched jaw, trying his absolute best not to spill and I decide that I’ve pushed him enough.

My hands leave him and I lick my fingers clean while he watches me with wide eyes.

“Take it off.” I say, motioning to my silky nightgown. Mansk never needs to be told twice. His large hands are on me in seconds. Even despite the skin on them being rough, he manages to gently push the thin straps off my shoulder, letting the thin material fall to my knees.

I smile at him, pleased with how well he is cooperating. Mansk doesn’t even see the smile because he’s staring at my naked body in adoration.

“I’ll give you what you want now.” I say, letting my smile turn into a grin.

His big ears come to life again, perking forwards and his lust-blown eyes meet mine. Mansk literally cannot wait.

I move back to his waist, straddling his trembling body once again. This time I’m not kneeling but squatting above him. He’s so bewildered and desperate that he stares and watches with a flushed face and perked ears.

One of my hands rests on his abdomen to steady myself. The other reaches for his throbbing and saliva-covered dick, angling it to meet my now wet pussy. Playing with him turns me on, I count it as my foreplay.

I press his tip against my slick heat and he groans words and curses I don’t understand. He’s too pussy drunk already to talk.

I rub him through my folds, humming in approval to myself before focusing on touching my clit with him.

Mansk’s hands are once again digging into the pillow and his head is thrown back. He can’t take the torture much longer.

Without further warning, I decide to give him what he needs and what I now want. I line him up with my entrance and let myself sink down comfortably until his tip is engulfed by me completely.

“Fuckin’ hell- Y/N…” he moans, needing to prop himself up on his forearms to watch me.

He was much larger than me and if I placed his huge cock on top of my body, the tip reached the beginning of my ribcage. I was never able to take all of him and never will be but I was able to bare the pain of having most of him inside me.

I move up on him before sinking down a little more. My eyes clench closed as I flinch at the slight stretch but I know it is only temporary.

I look back at him, watching how he’s fighting himself again to not buck up into me. Mansk knows it hurts me and he feels bad about it. It took me a lot of persuading to tell him that I enjoy sex with him. Now, he lets me do what I need to do and won’t dare touch, push or move me without my consent.

“You’re so good to me.” I whisper, drowsily smiling again. He loved and needed praise. I knew he took it to heart, so I helped him feel better about himself.

“You can touch now.”

His eyes light up and I nod to reassure him. He was so big I would get tired quickly while riding him.

Mansk’s large hands release the pillow and he closes them around my waist after running them over my bare chest. I put my hand on top of one of his and nod again, allowing him to move me. He needed his pleasure much more than me so he could get it now. It was well earned.

I also happened to enjoy seeing Mansk lift me so effortlessly up and down him.

He supported my movements, making it easier for me to ride him. Mansk was sitting up now and I held onto his shoulders while he thrust me down on him.

“So tight-” he groaned, his hot breath fanning against the top of my head.

His ears were pinned back in pleasure and he had his fangs bared as he concentrated on chasing his high.

He was so sensitive from all the edging I had put him through, I could tell he is close.

I want us to cum together so I reach down between our wildly different bodies and rub my clit. His eyes open and he watches with his jaw lightly hanging open.

Mansk always grew weak when you touched yourself. It was a sight that would instantly turn him on. Whether you were naked or were doing it over your clothes didn’t matter, Mansk adored seeing you please yourself.

That’s also why he moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Y/N- I’m gonna cum-” he hissed, needing to let go now otherwise he would become an even bigger desperate mess.

“Let go, baby, I want to feel it inside me.” I manage to say through heavy breaths. He groans at my requests and I feel his dick twitch inside me.

Suddenly, I’m being pulled down against him faster than before and Mansk starts desperately fucking up into me. I can feel his cum explode and shoot deep inside me and the feeling of it makes me moan and throw my head back. Within seconds I’m cumming too and Mansk rides out both our orgasms until our quivering and trembling bodies fall against each other.

His arms are around my waist, holding me close to his chest and his head rests on top of mine as we both calm our heavy pants.

“Thank you…” he whispers, tipping his head down and kissing my forehead.

“You don’t need to thank me, Mansk. I love you.” I say, looking up at him.

“Love you too, baby.” Mansk whispers, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

He gives me a tired smile before helping me gently get off him. His cum flows down the insides of my thighs but I don’t mind it. Mansk loves the sight of it but he cleans it with a tissue for my comfort.

We’re both so tired now that Mansk just falls back into the bed and I fall with him.

He was happy to be back with you in a safe space where he could forget everything except for the things that made him happy. Your presence had calmed him and he was able to fall asleep quickly, but only after making sure you were already asleep. His dreams won’t haunt him tonight. And that’s thanks to you.

Tag List: @numarusworld @ikranwings @jatwow @number1gal @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed

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