#(I Long Sigh As I Mute So Many Posts)

[onlymingyus]

Water

pairing; yoon jeonghanx f reader

genre; smut (minors dni), angst, fluff/romance, comedy

summary; being friends with benefits with jeonghan has never been what you thought it would but taking a trip to Paris with him and the rest of your friends while expecting to keep it a secret…that’s something completely different.

warnings; eating/drinking, alcohol, mentions flying in a plane, inaccurate french, a bit of self deprecating thoughts and feelings, hiding a relationship, idiots in love, oral (f receiving), fingering, jealousy, crying (from pleasure and not), petnames, unprotected sex, cum on skin/creampie – as always there might be a warning I am missing but do try.

w/c; 19k and some change (489 words on patreon)

a/n; as always I have to thank @junkissed for not only proofreading but also helping me with coming up with so many brilliant ideas. I also want to thank @wooahaeproductions for lending me her brilliant brain and offering so many beautiful ideas. -- after much thought i have decided to sporadically release some of my older patreon exclusives if and when i am feeling generous. since i am working on tkg and unable to release anything the way i would like to i posted a bonus for patreon subscribers and i am releasing this to you all here on tumblr. i hope you enjoy it. to those of you who were less than kind when i first posted it, i hope this teaches you a lesson of patience and humility. if you had been nicer to me this might have came to tumblr sooner.

before continuing remember reblogs are incredibly important and please read how to support me here

“I’ll try not to slobber on your shoulder.” 

You roll your eyes with a faint laugh at Mingyu’s words as he sits on your right in the aisle seat. The “fasten seatbelt” sign had just turned off and a quick glance at your phone told you that the plane had been in the air for about an hour. It was going to be a long 13 hour flight to Paris and while Mingyu was settling in to take a nap, you weren’t sure you were going to be following suit. 

Jeonghan purses his lips, watching you shift in your seat. You looked restless and he understood the feeling. While he felt like he could get up and take a walk along the aisle, beside him, Dokyeom was snuggled up against the window, watching a movie on the screen in front of him. 

Slipping out of his seat, Jeonghan leans to bump his hip against Mingyu, only to make the man groan, opening his eyes in annoyance. You were looking up at your friend curiously, your brows furrowed as he pursed his lips and jutted his thumb back over to where he had been sitting just a moment before. 

“Trade with me.” 

Confusion slowly spreads across Mingyu’s face as he looks from Jeonghan to you and back up at the other man. Lifting his brows, Jeonghan sighs and waves his hands as if trying to hurry Mingyu out of his seat, as if he were in the wrong spot, when clearly Mingyu had known he was supposed to sit beside you. 

“What? You serious?”

“The fuck, you mean, am I serious? I’m talking, aren’t I?” Letting out another sigh, Jeonghan gestures towards Dokyeom once again.” Gyu…Go sit beside Dokyeom and cuddle with him. Clearly, you both want to sleep and Y/N isn’t going to. I want someone to talk to.” 

Groaning, Mingyu looks back at you as you give him a soft, pouty smile, reaching up to pat his cheek as he begrudgingly gives up his spot to Jeonghan. Sliding past the smaller man, Mingyu narrows his eyes at him, only to get a smirk in return as Jeonghan slips into the seat with a happy sigh. 

Dokyeom glances over to Mingyu as he slumps down in the seat, pulling his blanket over his legs, as he watches Jeonghan look over at you with a grin on his face. There was something weird about what had just happened but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Shrugging, Mingyu glances towards the movie playing in front of Dokyeom as he leans his head to rest it on his friend’s shoulder, watching it on mute as his eyes get heavy. 

“Jeonghan…You are so full of shit.” 

Your words draw Jeonghan’s attention as he adjusts his seat, leaning it back to get more comfortable beside you. It was going to be a long ass flight but his traveling companion had just gotten exponentially more attractive. 

“Why? Did I lie?” 

Rolling your eyes, you glance away from Jeonghan and out of the window as he smiles at you. Yoon Jeonghan was one of your best friends. When the idea of going on this group trip to Paris came up, you weren’t sure if you wanted to go but it had been him who had talked you into it. There were plenty of reasons not to go but in his opinion, there were even more reasons to go. 

Your relationship with Jeonghan was complicated. It hadn’t started out that way. You had met him along with the rest of your friends in college. All of you were studying different things but at the end of the day, it was your personalities that had led you all together. 

Kim Mingyu had been the first friend that you had made and your gateway into the group. Many others had come and gone but by the end of four grueling years at university, there were fourteen of you that had stuck together and now ten of you are on a plane for a once in a lifetime vacation. 

When you don’t answer him right away, Jeonghan lets his eyes run along your neck and up to your pretty face. He had always had a harder time than some of the others when it came to keeping it platonic with you. Then, last Halloween, Jeonghan found out he wasn’t the only one struggling with that feeling. 

Maybe it had been the alcohol or maybe it had been all of the tension in the air but in a dark corner of Seungcheol’s apartment, you and Jeonghan had shared your first heated kiss. That kiss had turned into a long conversation the next day, which led to an even longer discussion about how neither one of you wanted to fuck up your friendship. 

“We will just have rules, Y/N.” 

You had sighed as Jeonghan had run his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head up so he could look at your face as he spoke. You hadn’t wanted to agree to the idea of being friends with benefits but the ache between your thighs every time you looked at him had been enough to keep you listening and to make your lips part as he had ran his thumb under your bottom lip. 

“If either one of us wants to stop, we just say it. No deep conversations have to happen. My only rule is that if you are going to fuck someone else, tell me. I don’t want to be second best.” 

Jeonghan had listened to you whining softly under your breath as his fingernails scratched along the side of your head at your hairline. He had known you wanted it as much as he did but what he didn’t know was that it was going to hurt you just as much as it was already hurting him. It seemed like such a simple solution to how he was feeling. He would get to have you in his life even more. He would get to fuck you as much as possible, but then you’d leave every single fucking time and it would start to hurt every single fucking time. 

Turning back towards Jeonghan as you feel his eyes moving along your skin, you fight the urge to move closer to him in your seat. You weren’t alone on the plane and your friends weren’t that far from you, with Mingyu and Dokyeom sitting diagonally across the aisle and Jihoon and Joshua behind you. 

“You could have kept Dokyeom awake to talk.” 

Smirking, Jeonghan purses his lips as he moves to lean across you, pulling down the shade on the window, leaving you and him both veiled in the low light of the cabin. You sigh as you feel his fingers slide along your forearm to your wrist, his fingernails causing chillbumps to spread along your skin as he draws small circles on your skin. 

“I don’t want to talk to Dokyeom, I want to talk to you.” 

Sighing softly, you glance down at your hand as Jeonghan runs his fingers along yours before linking his hand with yours. You knew the light was dim enough that no one would see and that if anyone did, they probably wouldn’t ask too many questions because Jeonghan was just a touchy guy to begin with. What you didn’t know was why your heart was in your throat. You didn’t know why your friend with benefits even wanted to hold your hand in the first place. 

“Listen…I’m just saying we already came up with the rooming arrangements before we even got on the fucking plane. Why are you two being such bitches about it now?” 

You sigh, leaning against Mingyu’s arm, as Joshua stares at Seungkwan and Chan in the hotel lobby. You already knew who you were rooming with and he was doing a great job holding you up at the moment. It was just the youngest of your group who were being cry babies about their rooms. 

“We are here for a week, Shua! If you had to spend every single night in a room with Lee Chan, you’d bitch a little bit about it too.” 

Groaning, Jihoon rolls his suitcase towards the group, causing Soonyoung to whine as his roommate swipes the card from Seungkwan’s hand before offering his to Chan. 

“Why do I have to lose my best friend over this?” 

Jeonghan laughs at Soonyoung’s dramatics as Chan pouts, knowing Soonyoung was going to be upset at him for the rest of the day because of the rooming arrangement. You watch the eldest of the group pat Joshua on the back as he gestures for Dokyeom to head for the elevator. 

“Come on, Y/N. You look like you could use a nap.” 

Hearing your name, you blink up at Mingyu before offering him a tired smile. There had been little sleep on the plane. You had never been good at sleeping on transportation but between that and Yoon Jeonghan at your side, it had been a battle you were destined to lose. 

Holding the door back, Jeonghan purses his lips, waiting for you and Mingyu to get in before he presses the button, causing Joshua and Jun to throw up their hands when the door starts to close in their faces. 

“Oops! It’s full!” 

You knew Jeonghan was being a menace. The lack of sleep was adding another level to his usual antics. Leaning against the elevator wall, Jeonghan watches as you sigh, your head leaned forward as Mingyu stands beside you, his and your luggage in hand as the elevator climbs. He had wondered on the plane if there was a way to switch rooms but that would be too obvious and Mingyu had already looked like a kicked puppy when he had made him give up his seat. 

With a final ding, the elevator doors open to a long hallway. Glancing at the wall, Mingyu mutters under his breath before taking a left before looking back at you with a laugh that comes to a stop to let you catch up to him. 

“Come on, Squirt. We are in 546.” 

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, following behind you and Mingyu, not even noticing the look that Dokyeom is giving him. While Mingyu didn’t seem to realize the relationship that was right in front of him, Dokyeom wasn’t as oblivious. He knew there had been something different for months, even if Jeonghan wouldn’t tell him what it was. 

“Don’t plot his murder yet, he’s not flirting. She’s like his sister.” 

Dokyeom’s voice is barely over a whisper but Jeonghan still looks at him as if he is announcing his words to the world. It was that sort of wide eyed, deer caught in the headlights look that told Dokyeom that he was right. 

“I–shut up. I know that. He’s just dumb. I’m not doing anything.” 

Chuckling under his breath, Dokyeom nods along with Jeonghan’s rambling as the two watch you and Mingyu open your hotel door before you offer them both a quick smile and wave, disappearing into the room and leaving them in the hallway. 

“Sure, man. Whatever you say, you have the key.” 

Waking up to a dimly lit room, you wince at the pain behind your eyes as you try to look around at the other bed, seeing it still made and empty. There was no sign of Mingyu in the room besides his now empty suitcase at the end of his bed and a few of his things strewn about on a couch in the corner of the room. 

You hadn’t meant to nap for as long as you clearly had but the flight had been long and now you were feeling bad about how much you must be missing from the trip. It wasn’t like there was a planned itinerary for every single day, but you did have some plans as a group and with different people. Otherwise, you were free to travel the city or use your time as you saw fit. Apparently, for the first few hours spent in Paris, you saw fit to snore into a very comfortable pillow. 

Reaching for your phone, you whine at the headache plaguing you as you look through your texts, seeing a few that you had missed along with a couple phone calls. 

[Missed call: Cheol at 11:30 a.m.]

[Missed call: Cheol at 2:16 p.m.] 

Cheol: I talked to Gyu. He said you passed the fuck out. Call me later. Wish I was there. 😭

Mingyu: Going out with Shua and Jun~~ be back later. Love you 😙

Jeonghan: Are you awake yet? Let’s order room service.

Sighing, you tap Jeonghan’s message first, hovering over the keyboard before finally replying. 

Y/N: I just woke up. Mingyu is out. 

Jeonghan had been awake for about an hour longer than you so when you finally text him back, he glances down at his cellphone resting on his stomach with a soft smile. At least he had been smiling until you mentioned Mingyu. 

Jeonghan: I know where he is. I wasn’t asking to order room service with him. 

Y/N: Fine…

While you didn’t sound entirely convincing, Jeonghan wasn’t going to turn down the chance to spend some time alone with you. He knew where Mingyu was along with Dokyeom and he knew they would be gone, at least for a few more hours. 

Sliding off the bed, you move into the bathroom to grab some pain reliever, making it back to the mini fridge by the time you hear the knock at the door. Leaning to pull the door open, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes before his gaze slowly moves over your frame and back up to your face as he slips into the room, closing and locking the door behind him. 

“I didn’t think you were ever gonna wake up. I almost asked Mingyu to let me in before he left.” 

Scoffing, you swallow your medicine with a gulp of water as you feel Jeonghan’s fingers sliding along your hip. You knew he was kidding, at least mostly. As far as you knew, he didn’t want anyone to know he was fucking you and you didn’t want to fuck up your friendship with him, no matter how much it hurt to be a dirty little secret. 

“So he could ask you why?” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan lets you pull away from him as you move back to your bed, flopping down on it with a groan. He had noticed the medicine in your hand and he could see the way your brows were furrowed. He had known you long enough to know the signs of your headaches and when you weren’t feeling well. Sitting down next to you, Jeonghan runs his hand along your leg to the end of your shorts as you look at your phone, responding to the rest of your text messages. 

“He could have asked why. I don’t care. You want me to just pick something for us to eat?” 

Wrinkling your nose, lost in thought, you glance at Jeonghan as his fingers push under the leg of your shorts, a concerned look on his face. He was full of shit 90% of the time but there were times when the two of you were alone that he made your heart tighten in your chest. 

“Mm, yeah. Just gonna call Cheol back and wait for this medicine to kick in.”

Nodding, Jeonghan watches you for a moment longer before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips, causing you to close your eyes and return it as your fingers barely hold on to your cell phone. There was no reason for him to kiss you. 

When the two of you came up with the rules of your relationship, there were no strings attached. It had started out with no kisses goodbye, but that rule had quickly been broken. Then the no sleeping over rule had been broken more than once by both of you, and now Jeonghan was sending your brain into a frenzy with such a sweet gesture as he smiled against your lips before sitting back to take out his own phone, pulling up the room service menu. 

Swallowing hard, you furrow your brows, lifting your fingers to press them against your lips as you make yourself pull your eyes away from the handsome man in front of you and back to your phone, pressing down on Seungcheol’s name. You knew it was late in Korea but not so late that he wouldn’t still be awake. 

“Hey…didn’t think I’d hear from you today.” 

Seungcheol’s voice makes you pout. You could hear the sadness in his tone as he leaned back in his gaming chair. You had offered to stay back and hang out with him but between his insistence that you go and Jeonghan’s whining, you had paid for your ticket, leaving an injured Seungcheol under the care of your other friends who couldn’t make the trip. 

“Sorry, I was so tired from the flight. How are you feeling today?” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol looks down at the brace on his knee before leaning his head back in annoyance, not really at your question but at the situation. 

“Fine. Minghao went with me to rehab and then Vernon and Wonwoo hung out and played some games earlier.” Pursing his lips, Seungcheol glances out his window at the lights of the city, listening to the sounds of the traffic compared to the quiet sounds of your conversation. “How’s Paris?” 

Jeonghan closes one eye in thought before turning his phone towards you to ask if his order was okay, only getting a nod before you sigh and give your attention back to the phone call. You had been disappointed when any of the group had been unable to come along but especially Seungcheol. He and Mingyu were like family more than they were friends and now part of your family had a torn ACL and was stuck in his apartment playing video games and eating takeout while you were visiting a foreign country. 

“I’m glad they are taking care of you. We miss you. I haven’t seen much other than the back of my eyelids, Cheollie.” 

You say we before you even think about what you are saying, causing Jeonghan and unknown to you, Seugncheol to furrow their brows. It wasn’t like you had lied; Jeonghan had wanted his best friend to come on the trip but it wasn’t like he knew that he was in the room.  

“We…” Smirking to himself, Seungcheol shifts in his chair, reaching out to move his mouse across his screen to open his game back up, knowing he was going to end the phone call sooner than he had even anticipated. “Tell Han I said hi. Call me tomorrow. Love you.” 

Groaning, you avoid Jeonghan’s eyes as he searches your face, seeing a look of embarrassment wash over your expression. Your relationship with Jeonghan was a secret from most of the group but it had been Seungcheol’s apartment that you had been making out with Jeonghan in and he wasn’t an idiot. 

“Shut up…  I–Cheol says hi.” Sighing, you watch Jeonghan lean his head back, realizing what had happened as you finished up your phone call. “Love you too; talk to you tomorrow.” 

Lowering your phone, you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he stares at you, tilting his head. You could see the question on his face but you weren’t sure you were up to answering it. Instead, you toss your phone down on the bed and groan as he watches your dramatics, putting his hand back on your thigh unable to stop the smile that pulls at his lips. 

“We miss you, Cheollie.” You could hear the teasing in Jeonghan’s voice even as you lifted your arm to rest it over your face. “Why did he assume it was me?” 

Groaning his name, you turn on your back, causing Jeonghan’s hand to slide to your inner thigh, where he lets it rest. You squirm slightly, feeling his thumb rub small circles along your skin as he watches you closely much to your dismay. 

“Probably because Mingyu is out and he has already talked to him.” 

You fail to tell Jeonghan the part about how Seungcheol also knows that you are fucking Jeonghan but he is nice enough to only tease you sometimes about how much it’s going to break your heart one day. Sliding your arm from your face, you sigh as Jeonghan’s fingers start to work into the tight muscle of your thigh. It felt good; it was a nice gesture but you knew there was an ulterior motive to it. 

“We can’t do anything while we are here, Jeonghan. We have no idea when Mingyu will be back, and I don’t –” 

An annoyed groan slipping from between Jeonghan’s lips makes you fall silent as he slides up in bed and between your legs to hover over you on the bed. Your heart was beginning to race from the image of him above you to the thrill of the situation. You really didn’t know when Mingyu was coming back from his outing and the food could be delivered at any moment. 

“We are in Paris and you are going to lay on this bed and tell me that we aren’t going to fuck while we are here?” 

Slotting his leg between your thighs, Jeonghan smirks when he hears a whine get caught in your throat. There were many things he loved but one of them was feeling the warmth of your pussy, clothed or not, against his thigh. He loved when you would instinctively start to buck your hips against his leg just from the desire to feel any sort of release because you had to chase it. 

“Y/N…baby…princess…my beautiful angel…” 

All the pet names that fall from Jeonghan’s silver tongue cause your fingers to dig into the comforter as you try to fight the urge to roll your hips against his thigh. You can’t help but lift your right hand, grabbing for something more substantial, and find Jeonghan’s shirt when you feel his lips press against your neck as he kisses up to your ear. With each kiss, Jeonghan speaks and allows his warm breath to tempt you even further. 

“I might actually die if I can’t have you this entire time.” You knew he was being dramatic but you could also feel how hard Jeonghan was getting against your thigh so he was doing a good job of convincing you that he was telling you the truth. “We can be so careful. I’ll make it worth it.” 

You knew he would keep that promise. Every time with Jeonghan was worth it. No matter how much you tried to lie to yourself, even the cracks that were starting to line your heart and the stress building in your mind were worth it. 

Jeonghan whines your name against your jaw as his hand pulls your hips up and tighter against his thigh. He could feel the way you were starting to roll your hips and it made him want to lay on the bed under you and watch you ride his cock like that until he filled you full of his cum. He wanted nothing more than to keep you like this forever, to make this simple like it was in his head but his heart was making it complicated. His heart had made it complicated from day one. 

“Bonjour, service en chambre.” 

The voice of someone on the other side of the door and a stern knock pull you and Jeonghan from your lust filled haze quickly. With an annoyed groan, Jeonghan rests his head against your shoulder before nodding against it as the man announces himself again, trying to get any response from the room. 

“Oui, une minute, s'il vous plaît.” 

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan takes a deep breath before sliding off the bed to adjust his sweatpants. You could hear the frustration in Jeonghan’s sighs as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, moving towards the door and letting you sit up on the bed. In reality, there was nothing for either of you to be upset about. He had placed the order so it wasn’t surprising that it was being delivered in a timely manner. 

“Merci…”

The word falls from Jeonghan’s lips like venom as he takes the bags from the man before slamming the door in his face. Turning back to face you, Jeonghan gives you an incredulous look, finding you pressing your lips together and trying not to laugh at him. He didn’t find anything about the situation funny. 

“I got cock blocked and you are laughing?” 

Smiling, you reach your hand out to help Jeonghan with one of the bags, taking out the drinks and sitting them on the nightstand out of any danger of spilling, as he grumbles under his breath. You can’t help but laugh again, opening both straws and finding him pouting at you. 

“You didn’t even offer him a tip. Are you that pissed off?” 

Opening one of the containers with more force than necessary, Jeonghan grabs one of the forks, stabbing at a piece of pasta and lifting it to his lips, still pouting. 

“Is your cock still hard and not wet, Y/N? Oh, that’s right, you don’t have a cock that gets painfully hard every time you look at your incredibly hot gi—friend.” 

Coughing as he takes a bite of food, Jeonghan looks down as he almost slips up on his wording, hoping you won’t notice. You just furrow your brows, your straw pursed on your lips, as you watch him for a moment before taking a sip and tilting the drink towards him, offering it to him to do the same. 

You weren’t sure what you had heard. You knew what you wanted to hear but at the same time, did you? What would that mean? So instead of lingering on it, you focus on the rest of his nonsense, letting Jeonghan off the hook for his slip up. 

“No, I don’t have a cock but I do get horny. You act like girls don’t get just as horny as guys. It’s not my fault that I can just hide it better.” 

Scoffing, Jeonghan leans towards you, taking a sip of your drink before turning his fork towards you to offer you a bite of the pasta, feeling the warmth that had risen in his neck and face starting to fade. Maybe he had just gotten lucky and you hadn’t caught the word he had almost used to refer to you or maybe you were just being nice. Either way, he wasn’t going to push the subject if you weren’t. 

Watching you take the bite from the fork, Jeonghan lets his eyes move over your face, lingering on your eyes. You were so beautiful, it was painful, and he was being honest when he said he didn’t want to waste the time the two of you had in Paris. It would be a waste to fly so far and not indulge in you as much as he could. 

You furrow your brows as Jeonghan’s eyes fall to the bed, the two of you eating mostly in silence until finally you are the first one to break the tension as you groan, rubbing your hand over your stomach with a grin on your face. Jeonghan can’t help but smile once again, feeling endeared by you as he takes another sip of drink before putting it back on the nightstand. 

“Full?” 

Nodding, you stretch on as Jeonghan works to close containers and cleans up, moving around your room. You watch as he glances back at you, his eyes moving along the length of your body, to the arch of your back when you whine into a yawn. Smiling, you reach for your phone, checking your messages, and at the same time feeling him lay on the bed next to you, slender fingers barely graving over your stomach, before Jeonghan slides his hand under your shirt to have contact with your skin. 

“I’m not.” 

Your laugh makes Jeonghan smile. The smile is genuine and full—not one of his half smiles that he would give to just anyone. No, this smile is one that is meant just for you. Reaching up to take your phone out of your hand, Jeonghan whispers your name and you can hear the need and desire laced in his voice like a question. With your brows furrowed, you can only meet his eyes and nod before his lips are back on yours. 

Whimpered moans slip into Jeonghan’s mouth as his fingers slide under the top of your shorts and between your legs. It was one thing to feel you against his thigh and it was another to feel your wet pussy on his fingers. 

Jeonghan groans into the kiss. He can’t help the smile that pulls at his lips, feeling you lift your hips towards his hand as his fingers spread your folds. Between breathy kisses, the sticky, wet sounds of Jeonghan’s fingers teasing you are all you can hear, even as you mutter, begging him for more. 

“More? Like what? What do you want, beautiful?” 

Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you practically sob out a moan of frustration at Jeonghan’s question. You knew how much he liked you to tell him exactly what you wanted and he knew how much you just wanted him to give him everything. Pushing your head back against the pillow, you bite at your bottom lip only to have Jeonghan’s teeth pull it from yours with a dark laugh. 

“What do you want, Y/N? My fingers or my mouth?” 

Tears run from your eyes along your temples as Jeonghan’s lips press against yours teasingly. He was driving you crazy with his light touches to your clit, and it was making it hard to think and even harder to speak. Arching your back, you gasp Jeonghan’s name as his thumb and forefinger close around your clit, rolling the small bud between his fingers, waiting for you to speak. 

“Ah–fuck! Both…please? Please, just give me both. I can’t stand it.” 

It had been longer than Jeonghan would have liked since he had been in your bed and normally he would be more strict. Normally he would make you pick one thing and draw out your orgasm until you were begging him through tears for more, but just feeling your slick arousal on his fingers made Jeonghan weak for you. 

Moving to his knees, Jeonghan pushes his fingers into the top of your shorts and underwear. You only manage a soft whimper of his name as he slides them down your legs and tosses them onto the floor before letting his eyes roam over you. Licking his lips, Jeonghan slides his hands under your knees, pulling your hips down in bed as he lays on his stomach so that your pussy is level with his face. 

“Fuck…Jeonghan, please? Stop teasin—” 

Running his tongue from your entrance to the top of your mound, Jeonghan silences you as he groans to your taste. It really had been too long since he had been between your legs and he was starving. The food had been nothing in comparison to this and he was feeling almost feral after a single drop of you on his tongue. 

Long, slender fingers part your folds as Jeonghan moves his other hand from under your leg to circle your dripping hole with his middle finger as you moan his name. He could play you like a well tuned instrument and he knew every note by heart. 

Turning his hand palm up, Jeonghan groans under his breath, feeling your warm, soft walls welcome in his finger and tighten around them. He could just imagine how good you would feel on his cock and it had him leaking profusely in his sweatpants as he willed himself not to rut against the bed, lowering his head to flick his tongue at your throbbing clit. 

There have been few people in your life who made you feel as good in bed as Yoon Jeonghan and there were none who looked as good as him between your thighs. No one’s hair felt as good between your fingers as you held them against you; their lips wrapped around your clit as their fingers steadily pushed you towards heaven. No, that was only Yoon Jeonghan. 

You tasted better than anything that Jeonghan could imagine. He had wanted this from the moment that he had walked into the room and now that he was lucky enough to be between your legs, he could feel his head going fuzzy with just thoughts of you. You were like a drug that he could never get enough of. 

It was the feeling of your velvet walls clenching around his fingers as he pushed you over the edge and the sounds of your sweet little moans that caused Jeonghan to almost lose it. Words almost escape between his lips—three little words that could ruin everything. Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan buries his face against you to silence himself, enjoying the taste of your cum on his tongue until the sound of your phone causes him to furrow his brows. 

Your fingers tear at the bedding under you as Jeonghan tries his best to pull another orgasm from you until the familiar sound of your ringtone starts to play from beside you on the bed. Gasping for a full breath, you glance over to see Chan’s face as Jeonghan looks up at you from between your legs with a disappointed look on his face. 

“Let it go to voicemail.” 

That was one option but if Chan was calling you, there had to be a reason. Whining, you slide your hand across the bed, listening to Jeonghan groan in annoyance, laying his face against your thigh as you do. Licking your lips, you catch your breath before putting your phone on your chest and answering the phone while speaking, hoping it will mask some of your labored breathing. 

“Chan? What’s up?” 

Closing his eyes tightly, Jeonghan shakes his head as you answer the phone, knowing he isn't getting laid now. First, the hotel staff had bad timing and now Lee Chan was cock blocking him. Glancing back up at you and the phone, Jeonghan shifts to his elbow, leaning to wipe his lips as Chan finally speaks up, his voice instantly breaking your heart. 

“Y/N…I forgot my key. Soonyoung is in the room and won’t answer the phone. He’s still mad about earlier and you apparently have to have the key to get back into the hotel past a certain time.” 

Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan lets out a light scoff, causing you to shoot daggers from your eyes in his direction. You could hear that Chan was drunk and you had always had a soft spot for the younger boys in your group of friends. You had taken on the big sister role very quickly and took it seriously. Throwing his hands up, Jeonghan mouths “what?” in your direction at the look of disappointment on your face at his reaction before you simply roll your eyes and slide off the bed to pick up your shorts, sliding them back up your legs as you speak to Chan. 

“I’ll come down and let you in and then we will go talk to Soonyoung. Give me like five minutes.” 

Tossing your phone back on to the bed, you move past Jeonghan as he whines your name, trying to grab your hand, only to find your fingers slipping from his. He knew he was being selfish but fuck, he felt like he deserved it just a little bit. Every once in a while, people could be a little selfish and enjoy the company of their— Even in his head, he couldn’t think of the right word to call you, so Jeonghan watched you from the bathroom door instead as you freshened up. 

“Can we try again later?” 

Sighing, you glance at Jeonghan through the mirror as he leans his head against the door frame, a look of disappointment on his face that almost shatters your resolve. You wanted to be less “easy” and say maybe or maybe not but instead you just nod and try to walk past him, feeling Jeonghan’s hand slide around your waist. Soft lips press against yours and you feel your knees start to give at the feeling and at how much you want to pull Jeonghan back into your bed. 

“I’ll text you in a bit.” 

Six words and Jeonghan leaves you standing in your room, feeling confused and lost. Only the sound of a text and a selfie of a pouty Chan sitting on the steps, asking for a rescue, pulls you back to reality. 

Your fingers move along the rows of silk and satin on the rack as you purse your lips. It wasn’t that the dresses weren’t gorgeous. All of them were and all of them cost half of your rent. Mingyu lifts his gaze towards you as he pulls a shirt from a rack, putting it up to his body, before turning towards the mirror to judge his choice. 

“You can’t tell what they look like unless you actually look at them.” 

Mingyu was your favorite shopping partner. You found out years ago that he loved to shop even more than you did. He had a great eye for what would look good on you and you were grateful for that because you seemed to lack that ability. 

“They are so expensive, Gyu.” 

Nodding, Mingyu glances at the tag of the shirt held against his chest before sighing and draping it over his arm. You glance up at the man as he moves beside you, being a lot more thorough with the dresses than you had been. 

“It’s my treat. We need to find you something pretty to wear for tonight. You are going out with Jeonghan, right?” 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you stumble over your feet, trying to take a step away from your best friend. Lifting his brow, Mingyu just smirked, taking one of the dresses from the rack—a long sleeved, soft mint green dress with a deep V neckline. 

“I–Mingyu…first of all, no. I can’t let you buy it. Secondly, no…  It’s dinner with Jeonghan and Dokyeom.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu moves closer, holding the dress up to you and reaching out with one hand to hold the long sleeve to your arm. Pursing his lips, Mingyu glances over his shoulder at the shop attendant, furrowing his brows, trying to remember anything he had practiced in French. 

“Um… Excusez-moi. Salle des vêtements ?” 

Smiling, you furrow your brows at Mingyu’s attempt to ask for a fitting room as the girl just smiles at him and lifts her brows, speaking in English as she gestures towards the back of the store. 

“There are fitting rooms this way.” 

Laying the dress over his arm along with his shirt, Mingyu shrugs before looking back at you as you laugh under your breath. 

“What? What did I say?” 

“You asked for the clothes room. I mean, not too far off.” 

Sighing, Mingyu walks beside you before offering the pretty store attendant a dazzling smile before she leaves the two of you alone to try on your outfits. 

“Well, it’s not like that’s the first time I’ve looked like an idiot in front of a woman. I don’t know how to say "fitting” in French.” Offering you the dress, Mingyu lifts his brows as you start to whine, looking at the price tag. “Try it on, Y/N.” 

You slide your fingers over the silk, taking the dress from Mingyu, before going behind the curtain. The dress was beautiful. It was not what you would have picked for yourself just because you weren’t sure it was something you could pull off. The V of the neck was deep and would show off your collarbones. It would take at least ten minutes to button all of the buttons that led from your waist to your chest but by the time you were finished, you were even speechless as you stared at the mirror. 

Adjusting the white button up over his chest, Mingyu turns to the side and nods at his appearance in the mirror before looking at the curtain you had disappeared behind. He knew you were going to look good but he also knew that your self esteem was going to get the better of you without a little push. 

“Y/N…come on, get your ass out—oh…” 

Words fall silent on Mingyu’s lips when you open the curtain, your leg peeking from the large slit that rests at the top of your thigh as you move into the center of the fitting room area towards the larger mirror where he stood. You were his best friend and more like a sister but he was also a guy at the end of the day and he had eyes. You were stunning. 

“Is it awful? I told you that nothing in this place would look right on me.” 

Shaking his head, Mingyu steps behind you, taking your shoulders to put you in front of the large mirror where lights would shine down on you, allowing you to see better how well the dress truly fits you. It hugged in all the right places and flowed in others. 

“You are fucking beautiful. Yoon Jeonghan is going to lose his damn mind.” 

Jeonghan couldn’t stop staring at you. He knew that the restaurant that the three of you had chosen to go to was nice but when he had met you in the lobby of the hotel with Dokyeom and you had been in that dress... Jeonghan had almost lost his mind. 

You smile as Dokyeom walks beside you, his cheerful voice causing your face to light up like a star in the sky, while Jeonghan struggles to think straight. How could anyone be around you without wanting you? Jeonghan wasn’t sure how Dokyeom could act normal around you when you looked like you had stepped out of Jeonghan’s dreams. 

Jeonghan was in love. He had known it for a while now but looking at you now, in that dress, under the Parisian street lamps... He couldn’t tell himself it was just lust anymore. 

Glancing up at the sign for the restaurant, you can feel Jeonghan’s eyes on you. They hadn’t left you for the entire walk from the hotel to the restaurant. You felt like you were going to float away under his gaze but the only thing keeping you tethered to the ground was Dokyeom. 

“The reservations are under your name, Y/N.” 

Jeonghan’s voice brings your attention to him fully and you feel your cheeks heat up as if you were standing in front of an open flame. He looked incredible. You were all dressed up. The restaurant wasn’t incredibly fancy but it was considered fine dining so you all wanted to look the part. Jeonghan had chosen dark jeans, a dark button up with a jacket, and brown boots. Everything fits him perfectly and makes your mouth feel dry. 

“Right…I’ll check in. Be right back.” 

Two sets of eyes watch you but one lingers longer before Jeonghan finally pulls his eyes from the door to focus on Dokyeom with a long sigh. 

“Y/N looks fantastic tonight, don’t you think?” 

That was one way to put it. Jeonghan just scoffs into a laugh, lifting his hand to run it over his lips before nodding and narrowing his eyes, thinking about how to answer that question and what he even wanted to say. He knew what he wanted but he knew it would upset you if you found out. Fuck it. 

“She looks beautiful.” Moving in closer to Dokyeom, Jeonghan watches the man lean his head back a bit, almost out of concern. His eyes widen as if the shorter man was going to hit him before Jeonghan smooths Dokyeom’s jacket and smiles. “If you make up a reason to leave now, I'll give you 50 bucks or literally anything you want.” 

Laughing, Dokyeom tilts his head, thinking it has to be a joke, until he meets Jeonghan’s eyes and sees the serious look of desperation in them. He knew that his friend liked you but maybe it was reaching that point where he was willing to admit it to himself and you.

Swallowing hard, Dokyeom glances towards the door to see you smiling at the hostess, your eyes glancing towards him as you give him an apologetic look and say something else to the woman. There was no way he wasn’t going to get a guilt trip from you for leaving but if he didn't, Jeonghan might actually hit him. 

“I–fuck man. Y/N is gonna be pissed at me. She’s the one who wanted us to all get dinner together, but...” 

One more look into Jeonghan’s eyes and Dokyeom felt his excuse crumble. He could see how important this was to Jeonghan and now it felt important to him too. 

“Yeah…alright. I’ll come up–” 

“Okay! So she said, like ten more minutes.” 

Stepping back from Jeonghan, Dokyeom clears his throat before smiling just a bit too big at you. You knew something was different but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Jeonghan was pretty good at lying to you or at least at pulling something over on you but Dokyeom wasn’t. 

“I am so sorry but I have to get back to the hotel. Rain check on dinner.” 

Watching your face fall, Dokyeom feels his stomach tighten as you take a step towards him and he takes a step back, knowing that if you press him too much for answers, he will crumble. 

“What? You were so excited. Why?” 

Lifting his hands, Dokyeom gestures back towards the hotel and it’s as if you can see the gears moving in his head as he thinks of an excuse on his feet. 

“Uh…Min–Mingyu. Yep, Mingyu texted me. He wants my help with something. So I gotta go, right now. Like right now. Bye!” 

Starting to speak, you end up closing your mouth as Dokyeom lets out a squeal, quickly moving away from you into the flow of people heading away from the restaurant. Narrowing your eyes, you look back to Jeonghan, who rubs his lips together before smiling sweetly at you and lifting his hand, offering it to you. 

“Looks like it’s just us, baby.” 

Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you roll your eyes at Jeonghan before turning from his hand, realizing he must have had something to do with Dokyeom’s quick departure. You sigh as you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, Jeonghan’s chin resting on your shoulder as he smiles next to your ear before pouting. 

“What? Are you mad at me? I didn’t leave.” 

Leaning your head away from his lips, you hear Jeonghan let out a long sigh as you all but reject him again. Fingers tighten around your waist, pulling you back against him, and Jeonghan’s brows furrow deeply. 

“Y/N…seriously?” A quick glance from you has Jeonghan leaning his head back with a groan before he nods, giving in. “Yes, I asked him to leave. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

Your features soften at Jeonghan’s confession. You had figured that he had asked Dokyeom to leave but you hadn’t really expected him to tell you. You had expected to argue with him to the point that he would lie about it and then tell you the truth around the time for dessert. What was different about tonight? 

“I–what? Yes…I didn’t want you to lie to me.” 

Jeonghan’s hands slide from your waist as he begrudgingly lets you stand on your own, as if coming to the realization that you don’t want to be held or to hold his hand. You watch as his eyes widen, a small smile pulling at his lips when you slide your hand along his. 

“Mademoiselle?” 

Glancing up at the woman you had spoken to earlier, you let out a soft breath, giving her a smile and a nod before leading Jeonghan along with you. He listens as you explain that your party has become two and she drops off a menu at the front before leading you and Jeonghan to a table near a window. 

Watching you from across the table, Jeonghan takes a deep breath as you look down at your menu, his eyes moving as he tilts his head to see your legs crossed just off to the side of the table. He knew that he should be more civilized, perhaps more respectful but the way the dress was hugging your thighs and the way the slit of the dress was sitting so high on your leg was making his mouth water. 

Licking your lips, you start to ask Jeonghan what he is thinking about ordering when you lift your eyes to find his eyes moving along your legs and up your body. The heat rises once again in your neck and up your face at the amount of attention he was giving you. You had known he had been looking at you but you hadn’t expected him to do it so obviously now. 

Meeting your eyes and finding you watching him, Jeonghan grins, having been caught by you. He knew he should be embarrassed but instead, he just lets out a breath and shakes his head. 

“You are so fucking pretty. I’m sorry…  I can’t stop staring at you. That was why I asked Dokyeom to bail on dinner. I wanted you all to myself. I’m selfish.” 

Shifting in your seat, you reach for the water in front of you, taking a sip at Jeonghan’s words. You hadn’t expected him to speak so candidly about his reasoning for why Dokyeom had left or why he was looking at you the way he was. You watch his smile soften and his gaze drop to his menu, allowing you a moment of clarity to take your own breath as you get a break from his attention. 

“You are selfish.” Your voice is quiet and meek but Jeonghan smiles, letting out an amused breath before looking up at you once again as you continue. “You could have just asked me to dinner on your own.” 

Jeonghan swallows hard at your words, his confident facade breaking slightly as he looks down at his menu. Clearing his throat, Jeonghan tries to think of the right words before he finally manages to meet your eyes again. 

“Is it shitty of me that I’m afraid you’ll turn me down? So this way, we were all going out. You had more of a reason to be here.” 

Your heart shouldn’t be aching the way it was hearing another confession from Jeonghan but it was breaking your heart. You didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t sure what he even wanted you to say. The rules had been clear. You were just friends. Has that changed? 

“Jeonghan…” 

The whine in your voice sounds similar to a rejection and Jeonghan can’t stand the idea of that so he just smiles and holds up his hands, happy to see the waiter standing beside you. He didn’t want to hear how he wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t Kim Mingyu or Choi Seungcheol. He already knew, but that didn’t make him want you any less. Maybe he could still prove it to you. 

Jeonghan was thankful for the wine running through yours and his system as you laughed, leaning against his body. He knew you weren’t so drunk that you weren’t thinking clearly but you were feeling free enough that any of the earlier tension seemed to have melted away. 

“It was so good. Those coffee truffles… Jeonghan, oh my god. Babe, will you go back and get me more?” 

Hearing you call him babe was like injecting his veins with serotonin. Jeonghan nods before leaning to press a kiss to your jaw as you laugh sweetly. He would give you the world if you asked for it and laughed so beautifully for him like that. 

“Mm, I don’t wanna go to bed.” 

You pout into your words, looking up at the hotel, as you dig into your purse for your key and Jeonghan holds on to your waist with a grin. You were adorable all of the time but when you were even a little tipsy, you dialed up the cute factor by a hundred, making him melt at the sight of you. Sliding the key from your fingers, Jeonghan listens to your laughter as he taps it against the reader and pulls open the door as you thank him.   

“Then we won’t go to our rooms yet. I know a place. I found it earlier.” 

Jeonghan piqued your curiosity, causing you to tilt your head with a small, curious sound. Laughing, the man lets you lean on him as he walks to the elevator, still using your key to open it, before pressing the button for the top floor. 

“Where are we going?” 

You lean between Jeonghan’s legs as he rests against the elevator wall, the quiet beeps of each floor being passed acting as background music. Smiling, Jeonghan slides his hands along the soft silk of your dress to rest them on your hips, leaning his head back against the wall with a small chuckle at your question. 

“Up.” 

One final ding and the doors open to a long, quiet hallway. You lean back on your heels to look, making Jeonghan hold your wrists to keep you steady. The coast looked pretty clear; only a housekeeping cart and a few room service trays left outside the doors let you know to keep your voices down. 

Lifting his finger to his lips, Jeonghan smiles behind his finger as you lower your head to suppress a laugh sticking by his side. The two of you sneak down the hallway, only stopping at the housekeeping cart long enough for Jeonghan to grab a blanket slipping it under his arm. 

“Where are we going?” 

The question once again slips from your lips as you glance back to make sure no one was following you and Jeonghan as he turns to the left to what seems like a dead end, a door leading to an emergency exit to the roof. Raising his brows, Jeonghan pushes the door with his shoulder and you wince, ready to hear an alarm but when nothing happens except the door opening, your eyes soften and your mouth falls open in surprise. 

“Shhh, our little secret.” 

Keeping your hand tightly in his, Jeonghan climbs the steps before pushing open a second door, causing you to gasp at the sight. From the roof of the hotel, you can see for miles on a clear night. The lights of the city twinkling and burning like stars and in the distance, even the Eiffel Tower greets you like something out of a movie as you let go of Jeonghan’s hand moving towards the wall lining the entire roof. 

Jeonghan just watches you in awe as the wind lightly moves the dress around your legs as you rest your hands on the wall, looking out into the city. Sure, the city was beautiful but it had nothing on you. He had been to more places than most in the group but none of them compared to this... to you now. 

“Oh my god... Jeonghan, this is so pretty. I’m so glad you found this.” 

Hands slide around your waist as Jeonghan moves to stand behind you with a smile on his lips. He had wanted to wait a bit longer and just watch you but the urge to touch you was just too great. Leaning back against him, you laugh under your breath, sliding your hands over his, taking in a deep breath of the night air. This was perfect. If you could write out how you wish your life could be lived every day and every night, it would be like this. You would be in Jeonghan’s arms, looking out over a beautiful city. But that was a pipe dream. 

Nudging his nose against your neck, Jeonghan furrows his brows, feeling your shoulders drop. He could sense your mood changing but he wasn’t sure why. All he knew was that he could and wouldn’t let something so perfect go to waste. 

“Can we pretend?” 

Jeonghan’s words, spoken against your neck, are almost so quiet that you have to strain to hear them but you close your eyes and furrow your brows in question. 

“What?” 

Pressing his hands tighter against your stomach, Jeonghan practically whines out his words, causing your heart to tighten and practically shatter. 

“That we are more than this. Just tonight? That’s all I’m asking for. I know I’m not fucking worth it… but just pretend for me? One…fucking night?” 

If he had any idea what he was asking you to do, it didn’t seem to show. You were already suffering with the arrangement that you had and now he wanted more without actually having more. It was almost unbearable and yet all you can do is whimper out a “yes” and a “please, Jeonghan,” like the pathetic woman you are. You say it because you are irrevocably in love with Jeonghan and you can’t admit it openly to yourself, much less to him. 

Turning in his arms, you reach up to cup Jeonghan’s cheek as you feel his fingernails scratch along the silk of your dress at your waist. Dark brown eyes search yours for a short moment until soft lips finally connect with yours, taking your breath away. 

Jeonghan was always a good kisser but there was something about this kiss that felt different. This kiss felt desperate, as if he was trying to make a point or to ingrain it into your memory forever, just in case there wasn’t a second chance. 

You whine out a soft moan, stepping back from the side of the roof as Jeonghan catches your bottom lip between his. He feels your free hand tug at the front of his jacket as if you are trying to keep him in place but just a few more steps back, he finally stops before pulling away to pick up the blanket he had put to the side. 

You watch as Jeonghan lays out the blanket, kneeling down, before offering you his hand to help you do the same. Now it made sense; of course he had a plan. He always did. He was the type of person to think three steps ahead of everyone and usually five steps ahead of you. Carefully moving down to the blanket, you let Jeonghan pull you into his lap, his free hand tracing the line of your thigh and tugging your dress up your legs so as not to cause your dress to rip on the way down. 

“You look so fucking pretty tonight, baby. This dress…fuck… I love it but I—shit, I gotta see you. Wanna see you under the stars. Wanna fuck you under them.” 

It was cliche and yet Jeonghan’s words had your cheeks on fire. The words had your breath quickening as you straddled his lap, feeling his fingers trying to figure out how to impatiently undo the dozens of buttons as he whined in annoyance. 

“Goddammit… There are too many.” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan glances up at you, mischief in his eyes as he grabs either side of your dress at the front, trying to tug at it to make the buttons come loose. Reaching up to grab his hands, you whine, making him sigh at you, his tongue running across his lips as you pout at him, trying to make him see reason. 

“I didn’t buy it... It was a gift from Mingyu.” 

Pressing his tongue into his cheek, Jeonghan lifts his brows, learning where your dress came from. He knew deep down that there was nothing between you and Mingyu but that didn’t stop him from seeing red in that moment and it didn’t stop him from making a split second decision. The sound of expensive buttons being flung across the roof makes you gasp as you lean back, looking down at your ruined dress as Jeonghan groans, leaning to kiss over the lace covering your breasts. 

“Jeonghan…What the fuck?” 

“I’ll buy you another one. I’ll buy you a hundred more. Just don’t say his name again, not tonight.”

Muttering against your chest, Jeonghan shakes his head, sliding his fingers along your shoulders to push the dress down your arms before he looks up to meet your eyes. You see no sense of regret or remorse in his eyes, just lust and something else that you aren’t sure if you can name or that you want to. 

Leaning your head back, you close your eyes, feeling Jeonghan’s lips move up the length of your neck towards your jaw. Chillbumps erupt along your skin as his fingers guide your dress down your arms, letting the material pool at your waist when you slip your hands from the sleeves. 

“Then don’t leave me like this alone.” 

You whine out the words so sweetly that Jeonghan smiles on your skin, a small chuckle escaping his lips before he sits back, shrugging off his jacket, letting you help him undo the buttons of his shirt. Your nails lightly scratch his chest as your eyes take in his handsome face. You had looked at him hundreds of times this closely before but this time felt different and on some levels, you knew this time would hurt your heart more in the morning. 

Tossing his shirt to the side, Jeonghan reaches up to cup your cheek, leaning to brush his lips against yours with a soft sigh at the feeling of your kiss. You were giving into a feeling this time and he could tell. Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan uses his free hand to work open the clasp of your bra, feeling it give way as you arch your chest towards him, your hands holding tightly to his biceps as if grounding you to the roof and to him. 

Cold air nips at your breasts when Jeonghan slides the lace from your body before warm breath walks across the same path. You feel his hands holding the arch of your back as your fingers push through his hair, a moan slipping from your lips at the feeling of his lips against your skin.

“Please, Jeonghan…” 

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan pauses, leaving his lips pressed against the soft skin of your breast, when you breathe out his name, begging for more. In what seems like just a span of a heartbeat, you find yourself on your back on the blanket, Jeonghan hovering over you, his longer dark hair framing his face as his eyes move over your face. 

Lifting your hips, you find yourself shying away from Jeonghan’s attention as he slips the dress down your legs, a shaky breath escaping from between his lips at the sight of you bare in front of him. He knew it had just been a day since he had laid between your legs but every time felt like a privilege, especially this time. 

“Holy shit, baby…” 

Trying to turn your head, Jeonghan’s long, slender fingers stop you. In Jeonghan's opinion, there was no reason for you to look away or for you to be embarrassed by anything. You were perfect. 

Another soft, “please...” reaches Jeonghan’s ears as his thumb brushes under your bottom lip, causing his brows to knit together just slightly. He had heard you beg before; he had even made you beg but he didn’t want to make you beg or want anything this time. Tonight, he wanted to give you anything and everything you wanted. Tonight he wanted to prove something to you, even if it was just pretend. 

Watching Jeonghan nod and move back to his knee, your eyes fall to his hands as he lets out a deep breath, working his belt open with shaky fingers. Sitting up, you listen to how Jeonghan’s breath changes when your hands take the place of his, your fingers steadily undoing his belt and his jeans, before you meet his eyes through lowered lashes. 

Jeonghan can’t help but smile, a laugh escaping from his lips on an exhale in reaction to even the smallest action from you. There was no denying that he was turned on but there was more to it that even he couldn’t explain in a single night. Shaking his head, Jeonghan moves to his feet, his eyes still on yours, as you watch from the blanket as he sheds the last of his clothes before moving back to his knees and back into your touch. 

Leaning his forehead against yours, Jeonghan groans, feeling the warmth of your body against his as he lays between your legs. Sliding your leg along his thigh, you rest your knee at his hip and run your fingers along his arm, enjoying the feeling of the weight of his body even as you ache for him between your thighs. 

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan licks his lips when he tries to move, his hand pushing against the blanket and you cling to him, keeping him close to you. Meeting your eyes, he finds a desperate look in your eyes that he knows he isn’t going to be able to resist even before you speak. 

“Just…please? Fuck me, Jeonghan, please.” 

He hadn’t prepped you and he hadn’t touched you since yesterday but he could feel how aroused you were as his cock rested between your legs. Groaning, Jeonghan starts to shake his head in a feeble attempt to argue with you and reason with you but when you lift your hips and rub your pussy against him, every thought in his mind is lost. Instead, Jeonghan whispers your name on your lips as you kiss him and beg him again with your hand cupping his jaw. 

Nodding, Jeonghan reaches between the two of you, lining himself up with you and listening to your breath hitch as he pushes into your tight walls slowly until he bottoms out, his hips resting fully against yours. With one hand resting beside your head, Jeonghan grips your hip with the other hand, resting his forehead against yours as he stays still for a moment to catch his breath as you clench around him. 

The stretch is familiar and yet without the prep, though you had begged him to skip it, you find yourself needing the moment to adjust. Jeonghan wasn’t too big but instead, it was as if his body was made for yours and he filled you perfectly. Once the initial pain of the stretch faded, only the feeling of euphoria and the need for him to move remained. 

Lightly scratching your nails against the side of his neck, you swallow hard to catch your breath before nodding and lifting your hips as if trying to urge him without words. Jeonghan groans into a soft chuckle of your name that sounds like a plea for mercy before you swallow the sound with a kiss as your lips find his. 

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan rocks his hips towards yours, filling you once again deeply, causing you to moan into the kiss. Each thrust sends the knot in your stomach to tighten, pushing you towards the edge and your orgasm. The way that Jeonghan seems to know your body and how he finds just the right angle wordlessly, moaning his name as tears gather on the rims of your eyes, makes your head spin. 

“Baby…” 

The pet name whispered against your cheek so softly that the tears that had collected in your eyes fell on a soft sob as you wrapped your arm around Jeonghan’s neck. You pull him closer to you not wanting him to see you cry from something other than pleasure. Closing his eyes tightly as his lips rest against the crook of your neck, Jeonghan hisses out something intelligible that he is afraid you might hear or he might regret as he feels you tightening around him, your orgasm ripping through you. There were three small words that he had tried so hard to keep to himself that could mean nothing or everything. 

With a few more uneven thrusts, Jeonghan follows you over that edge, quickly pulling out of you to cum on to your stomach with a labored, breathy groan, his eyes searching for yours as you avoid him. He could see the tears that had streamed down your face and across your temples into your hair but he wasn’t sure if they were good tears or not. 

Reaching up to wipe his thumb under your eye, Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak but the words are hard to get out. There was so much he wished he could say to you if he weren’t so stupid and scared, so instead he shifted to his other hand and wiped the tears from your other eye before using his shirt to clean your stomach silently. 

After a few moments, silence was deafening, and you felt like you were going to scream if one of you didn’t speak. It had never been this quiet after you and Jeonghan had fucked but then again, it had never felt like that before. Swallowing hard, you look up as Jeonghan finishes buttoning his shirt, your dress mostly covering your body. 

“Jeong—” 

“Y/N…” 

Both of you stop speaking. Having spoken over one another, a smile lifts at both of your lips and Jeonghan shakes his head, leaning down to pick up his jacket before he moves to put it on you. Moving around you, he meets your eyes as he zips up the jacket before leaning to press a kiss to your lips and you feel your heart beat hard and fast like it’s going to burst or break. You aren’t sure which will happen first. 

“Let’s get you to bed. It’s late and I’m sure Mingyu will call the cops if he wakes up and finds you missing from your bed.” 

Nodding, you feel Jeonghan’s fingers slide against your hand before his fingers lace with yours and he leads you back towards the door and back to reality, where the two of you could stop playing pretend. You feel the tears once again prickling at your eyes. Sniffling, you will the tears back, at least until you are safe in bed and away from Jeonghan’s watchful eye. 

Jihoon lifts his brows as you swirl the wine glass in front of you thoughtfully before taking a sip. You glance towards where Soonyoung is talking to a pretty lady showing him another bottle of wine before you once again frown into your glass. It wasn’t like you to be so quiet or to look so down. 

You and Jihoon weren’t as close as some of the others in the group. In truth, you and Soonyoung were closer but over the years, everyone had grown up. Personalities had changed and around a year ago, you had found yourself picking up the phone to text or call Jihoon more often for advice or just to talk. 

“Wanna join us for this wine tour, Y/N? You scheduled it.” 

Looking up from your glass, you meet Jihoon’s eyes with a look of surprise and guilt. You knew you had been more distracted and distant all day but hearing it from Jihoon’s mouth snapped you back to reality. 

“I’m sorry, Jihoon...  just a lot on my mind.” 

Nodding, Jihoon takes a sip of his wine, glancing towards Soonyoung, who seems oblivious to not only the conversation but any of the tension as he accepts a different glass of wine. 

“I can tell. Maybe you need to just tell Jeonghan how you feel about him.” 

With your own glass sitting against your lips, at Jihoon’s words, you choke on your wine, watching the man smile and take another sip as if he had just told you about the weather. The sound of your coughing is finally what draws Soonyoung back to you, concern on his face as he pats your back, leaning to look at you closely. 

“You okay? Don’t drink it so fast.” 

“She’s fine, Soonyoung.” 

Nodding, you try to agree with Jihoon but Soonyoung takes the glass from your hand, leading you towards one of the empty tables, making Jihoon follow with a sigh. 

“I’m okay, I promise.” 

Gesturing his hand out towards you as if to say, I told you so, Jihoon takes the seat across from you as Soonyoung sits beside you, his brows finally relaxing. 

“Okay… you wanna keep going?” 

Jihoon watches you closely as you consider the question, your eyes falling to your phone in your hand. When you take longer than he feels necessary to answer, he purses his lips, leaning forward to rest his chin on his fist and looking towards Soonyoung, meeting his eyes. The two share a quick, silent conversation. 

“I–I mean, yeah, course —”

“I think Jeonghan canceled his plans on Shua today too.” 

Blinking a few times at Soonyoung’s words, you take a breath before leaning forward to rest your head in your hands. The warmth of Soonyoung’s hand running along your back is as soothing as it is humiliating as his words echo in your head. 

“Y/N… It’s not a big deal.” 

Scoffing, you sit up, sniffing back any emotion that has come to the surface, before you look at either of your friends with a shrug. You had been careful. Clearly, Jeonghan had been the one to fuck up but maybe you could still keep this a secret on your part. 

“What? Why would I care what he’s doing today?” 

Smirking, Jihoon lets out a breath that sounds more like a chuckle as he leans back in his chair, causing you to look in his direction. Meeting your eyes, the man lifts his hands in disbelief at your attempt to lie. 

“Really? That’s how you are going to try to play this?” 

The look on Jihoon’s face made you want to smack him but you tried to keep a look of indifference on yours. Sighing, Soonyoung just shakes his head, resting his arm on your chair behind your back, tilting his head towards you. 

“You are dating him, aren’t you? I mean…kinda what it seems like. He’s all over you and if anyone even looks at you for too long, we get a death stare from him. Even Mingyu…” Smiling, Soonyoung lifts his hand from the chair to brush under his nose, amused as he speaks. “Especially Mingyu.” 

Sighing as you lift, you reach for your wine, taking a sip of it and lifting your shoulders in mild defeat. Soonyoung wasn’t telling you anything you didn’t know. After last night and the state of your dress lying in your suitcase, hiding from Mingyu, you knew that Jeonghan had the wrong impression of your relationship with him—or he just didn’t want to understand it. 

“It’s not my fault he can’t control his face. At least this isn’t my fault.” 

Sharing another look with Soonyoung, Jihoon smiles at you before finally laughing as he looks down at his fingers around the stem of his wine glass. 

“Uh, Y/N, you both fucked up if your goal was to keep your...” Furrowing his brows, Jihoon meets your eyes, looking for a bit of clarification, getting none before he continues. “Relationship, a secret.” 

Now it was you who needed the clarification. You couldn’t think of a single time that you had been careless enough to make your relationship with Jeonghan as obvious as Jihoon was making it seem. Lifting your brows, you whine Jihoon’s name, making the man lower his head and nod before he continues with his explanation. 

“About a month ago, you called me around like, fuck, two in the morning. You were wasted and I’m pretty sure you were hanging out at Cheol’s.” Sighing, Jihoon looks at Soonyoung as if looking for moral support as he continues. “You said something about wanting me to keep a secret about Jeonghan. No matter what I said, I couldn’t stop you, so you told me you were sleeping with him.” 

There wasn’t enough wine or water in all of Paris to help the way that your mouth went dry at Jihoon’s words. You knew that you got drunk with Seungcheol on occasion and you also knew that there were a few times you couldn't remember the night before. You also knew there were nights you would see phone calls or texts to friends, mostly Jeonghan, that you couldn’t remember the next day, but never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you would do something like what Jihoon was recounting for you. 

Wincing in embarrassment for you, Soonyoung watches you stare at your wine glass for a full minute before you slide your purse on to your shoulder and clear your throat. 

“Uh… I’m so fucking sorry, Jihoon. I’m sorry to both of you. For today and for that night. Fuck…for any night that I have done anything stupid like that.” 

When you start to stand up to leave, Soonyoung reaches out to take your hand with a frown on his face. You close your eyes, feeling his thumb press against your palm as he grounds you to the moment, his voice soothing you like his hand had rubbed your back moments before. 

“No one is mad at you or upset. Honestly, not many others really know. Some of them assume something is up but personally, I just want you both to be happy. You clearly like each other.” 

Closing your eyes, you swallow hard feeling tears that threaten to fall as they collect behind your lashes. It wasn’t that simple, but neither of your friends knew that. Shaking your head, you carefully pull your hand from Soonyoung’s. 

“I’m just a phase, Soonie. I–I gotta go. Have a good day. Sorry…” 

Barely meeting Jihoon’s eyes, you see him start to speak as you reach up to wipe away a tear as quickly as it falls before you slip past a group of people moving into the winery. 

“Fuck.” 

Nodding along with Soonyoung’s one word response to your exit, Jihoon sighs as you walk out of the door. He felt like he could have handled the situation better but he hoped you needed the push. 

Watching Jeonghan from his bed, Joshua lifts his brow as Jeonghan sighs for the umpteenth time. They had plans to go on a walking tour, to see the Eiffel Tower, the Seine River, and maybe even get some food before the end of the day, but now Joshua was feeling like those plans were changing. 

Lifting his hand to rub at his eyes, Jeonghan tries to push you from his mind and the tears he had seen on your cheeks as he had walked back to your room with you. He tried to forget the sad smile you had given him as you said goodnight and handed him back his jacket—the jacket he was thinking about putting on for the day. Now the jacket was lying on his bed, and he had stared at it, sighed at it, and walked away from it multiple times as his best friend watched thoughtfully. 

“Did the jacket offend your family?” 

Laughing into a breath, Jeonghan slides his hand down his face and over his lips as he shakes his head. He knew Joshua was trying to lighten the mood and make him laugh but he had no idea what was really going on. As far as Jeonghan knew, no one knew about his arrangement with you—well, besides Dokyeom but he was clearly just observant. 

“Nah…just not sure I wanna wear it.” 

Sighing, Joshua purses his lips as Jeonghan picks up the jacket and brings it to his nose, taking in a breath before shaking his head. Either he hadn’t washed the jacket in a long time or something else had happened with it that he wasn’t telling Joshua about, which only meant one thing. 

“So, did you wanna tell me what's going on? This have anything to do with the texts I’m getting from Jihoon about how fucking depressed Y/N seems today?” 

Furrowing his brows, Jeonghan looks down at the jacket in his hands. It smelled like you, not just your perfume but just you and he knew if he wore it today he would be even more lost in his head. Joshua’s words pull him back from his thoughts but only make him put up an instant facade as Jeonghan smiles and shakes his head. 

“Huh? What do you mean? Is she, uh, she okay? Should I text her?” The facade starts to crack the moment he tries to talk about you; no matter how good of a liar Jeonghan could be when it came to you, it was becoming harder to pretend. Licking his lips, Jeonghan looks down and manages to continue what he was saying. “I’m not sure what I could say to help her, but I could check on her if you think I should.” 

Laying his jacket across a chair, Jeonghan shakes his head at his own weakness, knowing he must look like an idiot. As Joshua just sighs and sits up on the bed. He knew that look even without actually seeing it. He had been best friends with Joshua Hong for nearly a decade; they were closer to brothers than friends at this point and if there was anyone that it was difficult to lie to, it was him. 

“Stop. I’ve pretended not to notice because you two obviously wanted to keep it a secret but I know you better than almost anyone.” Tilting his head, Joshua watches Jeonghan scoff as he listens to him speak. “I thought you would just tell me when you were ready but something happened, so just fucking talk to me, man. I hate seeing you miserable. I don’t like seeing Y/N upset either.” 

Reaching up to once again pinch the bridge of his nose like he is getting a headache, Jeonghan moves back to his bed, sitting down on it with a loud sigh. The sigh was one of defeat mixed with relief as he finally met Joshua’s eyes and nodded. 

“I fucked up. I could have fucked anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered but it’s been her.” 

Joshua’s shoulders lift as he takes in a deep breath, getting confirmation of what he had assumed to be true. He knew things had been different for months but he also knew that even if Jeonghan hadn’t wanted to admit it to you or to most of the others, he had had a crush on you for years. 

“Okay… So, like last night or?” 

The question hangs in the air until Jeonghan tilts his head and winces out of embarrassment and anxiety. Joshua had known the answer to his own questions but that hadn’t stopped him from hoping this wasn’t as messy as it seemed. With the look on Jeonghan’s face, he knew it was a potential tangled web that could lead to the end of friendships. 

“Shit–I..okay, I mean, I figured, but...” 

Scoffing in disbelief, Jeonghan leans over his knees, putting his head in his hands. Had he been that obvious. He knew he had gotten a little jealous lately and maybe a bit more careless when it came to how he was acting towards Mingyu, but otherwise he felt like he wasn’t that transparent. 

“I assume you aren’t dating.” 

Shaking his head, still unable to meet Joshua’s eyes out of fear of what he will find in them, Jeonghan runs his fingers through his hair and closes his eyes. 

“But you are, and correct me if I’m wrong here. You are in love with her.” 

Fingers dig into his scalp hard as Joshua says the words out loud so flippantly. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua leans forward to watch Jeonghan as he processes what he had said before he sits up and slaps his hands down over his thighs with an unamused laugh. 

“Because I’m an idiot.” Rolling his eyes, Jeonghan still avoids Joshua’s as his voice wavers even slightly. “You know we came up with rules? I came up with most of them when we decided to do this.” Pushing his thumbs into the meat of his thighs, Jeonghan lets out an unamused laugh as he seems to bask in his stupidity and the levity of the situation. “All because I wanted her to agree to sleeping with me because I thought that was the only way I’d get her to be with me.” 

While Joshua could see how, where, and why the arrangement came to be, it still made him sad as he watched his best friend breakdown. He had never been in a similar situation and he didn’t think of you in the same way, but he did see how Jeonghan looked at you. 

“Why would that be the only way? Why didn’t you just ask her out?” Scoffing, Joshua gestures towards his friend as if trying to get him to see reason as he speaks, his voice kind but firm. “Why don’t you ask her out now?” 

Now Joshua was being ridiculous. He knew his best friend was intelligent—perhaps one of his smartest friends—but that idea sounded akin to driving his car into the ocean. Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he would do if he knew for sure that you didn’t care about him in the same way. 

“And risk losing one of my best friends? Are you fucking insane? She doesn’t like me like that, Shua.” 

Standing up, Jeonghan starts to pace. The weight of Joshua’s eyes is heavy but somehow it is still a comfort, even when he knows that he is frustrated with him. Narrowing his eyes, Joshua looks away from Jeonghan after a moment to look at his phone, seeing a text message from his group chat with Jihoon and Soonyoung. Lifting the phone from the bed, he scoffs under his breath, glancing towards the man in front of him as Jeonghan gnaws at his thumbnail, lost in thought. 

"Clearly, she does. Jihoon said she’s not going to make it through the wine tour with them.” Glancing back down at his phone, Joshua texts back as he speaks quietly, knowing Jeonghan is still paying attention to him. “And I know we aren’t going out. You two need to fucking talk.” 

Jeonghan’s mouth starts to open, only to close when he meets Joshua’s eyes as he looks over his phone. He knew it wasn’t a suggestion but the idea of it was terrifying. 

“Figure it out, Jeonghan. Don’t throw away your friendship and the potential of something else over your pride.” 

Sliding off the bed to stand up, Joshua pats Jeonghan on the shoulder, making sure to meet his eyes and see some understanding behind them before heading to the door. 

You hadn’t necessarily needed a shower after your failed trip to the winery, but the hot water running over your face and body felt good and it had washed away your tears. The only unfortunate thing was that it only lasted as long as you stayed in the shower and as you sat on your bed, skin still slightly damp under loose clothes, you felt the weight of everything pushing back down on you. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. There had been rules to stop any of this pain and yet from the first time that you and Jeonghan had slept together, there had been pain. You had known then that you should have stopped but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to stop that time or any other time after it, not even last night, as your heart felt like it was breaking into two. It was only the day after you felt like the most idiotic person on the face of the planet, thinking you could have more with someone who didn’t love you back, that you regretted it all. 

Maybe it was time to end it. 

Leaning to pick up your cell phone, you stare at Jeonghan’s name for a moment before pressing your thumb down over his name and putting the phone to your ear, listening to it try to connect. Closing your eyes, you take a breath, only to furrow your brows a moment later when you hear his ring tone as if it's just outside of your door. 

“Hey, let me in, please.” 

His voice was quiet but you could still hear him from two places, your phone and on the other side of the door. Taking a breath, you look at your phone, hearing the sound of a phone call ending knowing that he is waiting for you to open the door. 

It was a simple task. Get up, unlock the door, open it, and greet Jeonghan, but as you looked at the door, knowing he was on the other side after everything that had already happened today and after what had happened last night it felt like you were preparing to scale Mount Everest. 

With one last deep breath, you move to your feet, take the few steps that feel like miles to the door and open it to meet Jeonghan’s eyes. You weren’t sure what you had expected to see when you saw him. Perhaps you had expected the usual with him—his handsome face and cocky smirk on his face but instead you were met with a solemn look and dark circles from a restless night. 

“I just… can we talk?” 

Nodding, you step to the side, letting Jeonghan move past you into the room as he pushes his hands into his jean pockets, only to take them out again out of nerves. Jeonghan had always been one of the most confident people you had known but today looking at him, you were seeing a different man. 

You were seeing the man that you saw late at night when he buried his face against your neck and muttered sweetly about it being the best place on earth. You were seeing the man who made you cry after those moments when he wouldn’t call you until three days later, seemingly just disappearing. This was the man who kept you on an emotional rollercoaster. 

“Yeah…I think we need to. I have something I wanna talk to you about too.” 

Closing his eyes for a few seconds, Jeonghan feels his heart in his throat before he tries to put on a facade, not knowing that it’s cracked, when he turns to look at you, offering you a sad smile. 

“Yeah? You…you–uh, wanna go first then?” 

Maybe after what Joshua had told him, he didn’t have to be the first one to say it. The words were so terrifying to him. Those words made him feel like you were going to run away from him and losing you as a friend and a lover was enough to make him feel like his chest was going to explode. 

Shaking your head, you lift your brows, offering Jeonghan an unamused laugh as you move back towards your bed to sit down, pulling your legs up to criss-cross them under you. Watching him move towards you, Jeonghan pauses to meet your eyes before he sits down apprehensively beside you. 

“Sure… I’ve been thinking and I love – “ The words get caught in your throat but Jeonghan hears the word love, causing him to sit up, only for his heart to pound in his ears as you keep speaking. “Loved the sex but I don’t think I can do it anymore. You–We said we could call it off at any time.” 

The words make sense to Jeonghan but it is like he is in a tunnel where the wind is too loud for him to actually pick up on the sound of your voice as he stares at you, seeing your lips moving. You were asking to stop. You wanted to end it. That wasn’t what he thought you were going to say even if it made sense with the look he had seen in your eyes last night and with what Joshua had said earlier. 

“Jeonghan? You—I mean… It's nothing serious. That’s what you said. You’ve made that very clear, several times.” 

A smile pulls at Jeonghan’s lips before he laughs but you can tell he isn’t happy and nothing is funny. You know Jeonghan well enough to know when he is deflecting and when he is in pain. Shaking his head, Jeonghan looks down at his hands before closing his eyes, muttering to himself something you can’t quite make out. 

“What? You were too quiet, I couldn’t –” 

“I just said—I said I’m stupid.” 

Neither of you move; the room is silent as you watch with furrowed brows as Jeonghan reaches up to wipe under his eye, keeping his face hidden with his dark hair. You had seen Jeonghan cry before over serious things but something like this—the loss of a meaningless relationship—wasn't something you thought he would be upset over. You, on the other hand, felt like you were breaking as you watched the man you loved be upset, feeling like you couldn’t do anything to help him. 

“Don’t say that about yourself. You’ve done nothing –” 

Scoffing, Jeonghan glances at you, making you pause when you see the disappointment on his face. Sitting up, he turns towards you, starting to reach for your hand. He stops short, closing his hand into a loose fist and resting it on your knee. 

“I have done everything wrong, so I know you want to be nice and tell me to be kinder to myself but, Y/N, I’m so fucking stupid. Is it not painfully obvious that I am in love with you?” 

You look at Jeonghan with the same expression as you would a complex piece of literature. It was as if he had just tried to explain your feelings back to you, making you feel exposed to the sun. Shaking your head, you try to come up with the right words, only to let out a soft exhale of Jeonghan’s name, looking away. 

Finally scooting closer to take your hand in his, Jeonghan feels the hole in the pit of his stomach struggling to fill as he tries to salvage what he feels like he has ruined. Lifting his other hand, Jeonghan timidly dares to run his fingers along your jaw, turning your face towards him so he can meet your eyes once again. 

“I told you yesterday that I don’t deserve this... I don’t deserve you and I meant it, but baby, I love you so fucking much.” Swallowing down his emotion, Jeonghan licks his lips as he searches your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, his hand trembling against your neck. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry that I did it like this. I told you, I’m stupid.” 

It wasn’t fair; none of this was fair. It wasn’t fair that you felt like melting into Jeonghan’s touch or that you wanted to run away from him. It didn’t feel real and you had never imagined that Yoon Jeonghan would fall in love with you. You were just his stupid friend that he happened to be attracted to, but now he was telling you that everything you felt, he felt too. 

“What the hell, Jeonghan?” 

Your voice causes Jeonghan’s eyes to close; that whine in your voice sounds like the rejection that he was so terrified of. You look over his handsome face, feeling his hand fall from your neck when you make the leap, leaning forward to brush your lips against his. 

Jeonghan gasps at the feeling, his hand reaching back out, holding the back of your neck and pulling you in closer, your lips firmly against his as he furrows his brows. He knew that if you actually wanted him to let you go, he would. He would give you anything you wanted. He would have given you anything from day one if he hadn’t been so afraid. 

Resting his forehead against yours, Jeonghan listens to your soft breaths, your hands now clinging to the front of his shirt as if to keep him close to you. You hadn’t said anything back but right now he wasn’t sure he even needed you to; he just needed to know that you wanted him and you didn’t want him to leave. 

Lips brush against your cheek before Jeonghan whispers your name like a question, sitting back to look at you, searching for his answer. A nod and look of desperation in your eyes is enough for him to pull you into his lap and have his lips back on yours as his hands roamed your back under your shirt, feeling your skin under his fingers. 

Whining his name once again, you run your fingers through Jeonghan’s hair as you arch your chest against his, feeling chill bumps erupt along your skin at his touch. There was nothing that you wanted more than that feeling, the feeling of his hands on your body and his lips on your skin. 

Whispering “please,” you meet Jeonghan’s eyes as he groans, feeling you roll your hips over his. This hadn’t been his plan but he wasn’t going to deny you. He could feel his cock starting to get hard with every gentle grind of your hips over him and you were driving him crazy while making him fall in love with you all over again as he stared up at you. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want—everything—anything; just ask for it.” 

Moving to your knees, you rest your hands on Jeonghan’s shoulders, tilting your head to press your lips to his once more before speaking against them as you feel his hands rest under your ass. 

“Make love to me then, that’s what I want.” 

A breathy moan escapes from between your lips when Jeonghan lays you on your back and hovers over you, brushing his thumb across your cheek while admiring you. He had looked at you before but now he was wondering if he had ever really looked at you. He was noticing little things about the color of your eyes, freckles on your face, and how his heart was beating so hard. 

“I love you.” 

He had told you that he was in love with you but it was different hearing him say it that way and while he was looking at you like this. It felt real. Closing your eyes you feel the familiar tears start to well up in your eyes causing you to fight them as you reach up to hold Jeonghan’s wrist in case he were to change his mind. 

When tears do finally run from the corners of your eyes along your temples, Jeonghan takes a deep breath leaning to rest his forehead against yours letting you cling to him. He knew now that the tears last night were sad like he had feared. Making a silent promise to himself to make up for it, Jeonghan kisses you gently, his thumb brushing away some of your tears as he speaks against your lips quietly. 

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You nod, nudging your nose against Jeonghan’s as your hands move to find the end of his shirt, working it up his torso. You feel the way his stomach tightens under your fingers when he takes a deep breath before sitting back to let you pull his shirt over his head.

The fabric falls from your fingers onto the bed, your eyes moving from Jeonghan’s face over his chest and down his stomach to where your fingers rest on the top of his jeans. Taking a deep breath, Jeonghan leans his head back to the feeling of your gentle touch and the much needed relief as you work the zipper of his jeans down. 

“Fuck…Let me take care of you this time. Please?” 

Meeting your eyes, Jeonghan is happy to see the way you bite at your lips, your pretty smile pulling at the corner of your lips as you tilt your head on the bed to look at him almost innocently. Nodding, you lift your hips, letting Jeonghan shimmy your shorts down your legs. Licking his lips, Jeonghan kicks his jeans and boxers away. His eyes stay fixed on you, studying you as if you were a piece of art to be admired. 

“I love every part of this and if you want me to make love to you, let me do it right.” 

Arching your back, you let Jeonghan slide your shirt up and over your head. He was once again really looking at you as he moved back on to the bed and between your legs. You were bare in front of him and everything about you was perfect as he studied your body. He took note of every single mole and even the smallest of scars, stopping to kiss them on the way to lying between your thighs. 

Warm breath causes you to close your eyes and push your head back against the pillow. The first brush of Jeonghan’s tongue between your folds allows the tip of it to tease your clit, make your toes curl and gasp his name. 

Getting a taste of you had never been enough for Jeonghan and this time he was going to enjoy it as if it were the last time, just in case it was. He wanted you to remember the way his name felt on your lips. He wanted you to remember how his mouth felt between your legs and how his fingers felt buried deep inside you as he curled them back towards your stomach, making you arch off the bed. 

You gasp for a breath between moans. Reaching between your legs, you thread your fingers in Jeonghan’s hair as you push your hips towards his mouth, hearing him groan against your folds. He knew you inside and out and yet he had never made you cum so hard and so fast before. 

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, I can’t—ah!” 

Using his thumb to rub circles against your clit, Jeonghan watches you lift your hips, searching for your second orgasm, as he licks your cum from his lips. When you fall apart for a second time on his fingers, Jeonghan furrows his brows, cursing under his breath at the sight. There were few things on Earth that were that beautiful. 

Fingers carefully slip from you, making you whine at how empty you suddenly feel but once you glance at Jeonghan resting between your legs, sucking his fingers clean, you moan, lifting your hand to cover your face. He was such a handsome man and he was doing something that seemed so dirty. 

Smiling, Jeonghan tilts his head while watching you cover your face. He loved that no matter how much dirty shit had come out of your mouth in the past or how much the two of you had done, you always seemed so innocent. You were perfect in his eyes. 

Carefully pulling your hand from your face, Jeonghan presses his lips to your knuckles, looking down at you. You can’t help but notice the way your body heats up at the simple action and the way your heart tightens seeing him smile against your fingers. 

“You are so beautiful; don’t hide.” 

Pressing your lips together, you can only see Jeonghan’s gaze as he moves your hand back to the bed beside your head, his thumb pressing to your palm gently before he lets go completely. You were used to Jeonghan being more rushed with you. Not necessarily rough but you both knew what you liked in bed and it wasn’t that he was treating you like he was now; it wasn’t something you didn’t like; it had just never been on the table. How he was treating you now was intimate; he was treating you like a man in love, like he said he was. 

Brushing his lips against yours, Jeonghan smiles, feeling you do the same. He didn’t think there was a need to rush anything, especially if he was going to treat this like it might be the last time. You hadn’t told him how you felt and though he was hopeful, he wasn’t going to put words in your mouth. 

You moan softly against Jeonghan’s lips. The tip of his cock nudges against your entrance as his hand runs along your outer thigh to your knee and Jeonghan urges your leg up towards his hip. With his free hand, Jeonghan holds himself steady even as he groans on your lips, feeling your warm, wet walls pull him in and clench around his cock. 

Wrapping your leg around Jeonghan’s back, you let your head fall back, his thumb pressing against your skin just under your knee as he thrusts into you slowly and deeply. Pulling him in closer with your leg wrapped around him, you whisper Jeonghan’s name when he doesn’t start moving immediately. You knew that he liked to let you adjust but your desire for him was outweighing anything else. 

Nodding, Jeonghan moves his hand from your leg to cup your cheek, resting his forehead against yours as he rocks his hips to meet yours in a smooth, deep thrust that makes you moan out a sound similar to a sob. Jeonghan could tell the difference now as tears started to fall from your eyes, these tears were from pleasure and not because you were sad. These tears he would want to see any day of the week. Jeonghan would die to hear you sob his name as you clenched around his cock and begged him so sweetly not to stop. 

“I’m not, baby… you are so fucking perfect. Holy shit, I know I —” Groaning as he feels you clench hard around him, Jeonghan pauses to take a breath before burying himself inside of you as deep as possible feeling your thigh tremble as it rests against his side. “I know I’ve said it a few times now…but I love you. Fuck, I love you, not just this but you. Need you to understand that.” 

Your fingers scratch as Jeonghan’s shoulders as you feel the pressure building and the cord winding tighter and tighter as he pushes you towards another orgasm. It’s only his words that keep you grounded and make you whimper his name as you pull his mouth to yours to make him stop talking when you fall apart for him once again. 

Trying to breathe into your kiss, Jeonghan furrows his brows tightly, feeling the way your pussy hugs him and then tightens around him like a vice when you cum around him. His thrusts slow only for a moment before becoming harder and filled with even more purpose as Jeonghan starts to chase his own release. 

A choke groan gets caught in his throat when Jeonghan cums, filling you with each one of his thrusts. Your fingers dig into his shoulder and bicep, leaving half-moon divots to mark where you have been as he pushes you towards the headboard with each deep thrust. 

Soft lips walk across your throat and up to your jaw before finally making their way to your lips, pulling you back to reality. Jeonghan listens to your small whine when he slips from you once again, leaving you empty. Your arms and legs felt like they were being held up by strings until they were finally on the mattress and you found it hard to make them move again, causing you to pout and Jeonghan to laugh softly against your lips at your reaction to how tired you are. 

“Tired, baby?” 

You nod, leaning your head into Jeonghan’s palm as he brushes his hand over the side of your head and over your hair. Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his eyes searching your face for answers and you knew it was the one he was looking for. You hadn’t been ready to give it to him at first but the more you lay in his arms and even considered anything different, the more your heart told you that you already knew. 

“I love you, Jeonghan.” 

Finally hearing you tell him that you love him, Jeonghan closes his eyes and leans forward to rest his face against the crook of your neck with a sigh. You can almost feel the weight lift from him as he nods against your skin, placing a kiss on your neck before muttering quietly against the column of your neck. 

“I love you, too.” 

With his headphones half on his head, Mingyu stands in the doorway of his shared hotel room only for a moment before groaning and lifting his hand to cover his eyes at the sight in front of him. He had assumed that you and Jeonghan were together and after talking to Dokyeom, he knew even more—he knew more of the drama behind it—but clearly, that was hopefully a thing of the past. 

He just hadn’t wanted to be privy to it. 

Glancing towards the door and hearing the sound of a groan, you smack Jeonghan’s shoulder, causing him to look in the direction of your shocked face. Nothing of what had happened had been the plan, or else he would have told Dokyeom to keep Mingyu out of the room. 

“Gyu! Can you go? I am trying to do something here if you don’t —” 

"Literally, stop talking to me while you are naked. I’m gonna go stay in Dokyeom’s room.” 

You watch the door close, hearing the lock click in place, before meeting Jeonghan’s eyes, who shakes his head like Mingyu has done something wrong. 

“He didn’t know. Why are you mad at him? This is his room, Jeonghan.” 

Jeonghan silences you with a kiss making you sigh against his lips as he speaks between kisses. 

“I’m not mad.” Seeing you smile, Jeonghan kisses you softly once more before cautiously adding, “I just didn’t want him to interrupt my first time actually getting to fuck my girlfriend. Is that so wrong of me?” 

Narrowing your eyes, you feel your cheeks burn at Jeonghan’s choice of wording but you still can’t keep the smile off your face, feeling his fingers running along your stomach as he moves to lay beside you, pulling you into his arms. 

“Oh? Is that what happened? Is that who I am?” 

Jeonghan nods, wrapping his arm tightly around you, pulling you on your side to face him so his fingers can draw small circles on the small of your back as he looks into your eyes. 

“I fucking hope so.” 

Sitting on Dokyeom’s bed, Mingyu stares at the wall while Dokyeom stares at him, wondering what happened, until finally his friend looks at him and shudders in a full body cringe. 

“They were naked and possibly—you know. I will never be the same.” 

Making a face, Dokyeom pats Mingyu on the back before tilting his head and shrugging. 

“Well, it’s about damn time but better you see it than me.” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

© onlymingyus - all rights reserved. Reposting/modifying of any fic, or pieces of original writings posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed.

[snowballseal]

hihi! i was curious if you would be willing to do a drabble inspired by the sleepy affection with sylus piece, but with out good dr zayne? i feel like sleepy cuddles with him would be so comforting... regardless, thank you sm for sharing your writing!! every piece you've posted has always brought a smile to my face (kicking my feet all happily too) even for characters i'm not as interested in :)

Sleepy Affection ~ Zayne

Summary: It's winter, and there's nothing like cuddling with your sleepy doctor after you've both had a long day (or a long few days in Zayne's case).

Word Count: 1014

Note: I'm honestly so whipped for this man. Like, I'm so soft for him. And he's so soft for reader. This man would turn into a cuddly cat when he's tired, kinda like the misty invasion card (*eyes emoji*)

Hope you enjoy! Thank you for the request! And thank you for your really kind words. I'm glad my writing can make people happy.

---

Winters in Linkon are your favorite.

There’s something about the snow, the crisp chill in the air, the smell of peppermint drifting from the coffee shops. Every store is draped in twinkle lights and each street rings with the song of bells as people come and go. The kids seem somehow more feral and delightful, running through the parks in their brightly colored scarves, building snowmen wherever they can. Being a hunter, you’re drawn into more than a few snowball fights by groups of eager children who want to see your “fighting skills”.

But your favorite part about winters are the sleepy evenings. It’s the feeling of getting home after a long day, a deep chill in your bones alongside the exhaustion, ready to curl up in your blankets with a cup of hot cocoa and a movie. There’s nothing else like it.

And what makes it even better?

When your boyfriend joins you after his even longer shift.

Your apartment is quiet except for the playful soundtrack of ‘Elf’ humming in the background. You snuggle deeper into the couch, eyes glued to the window beside you, watching the thick snowflakes dance with the wind. They look like little ballerinas to your tired eyes, pirouetting round and round and round. Hypnotizingly graceful.

The front door opens with a muted click.

Lazily, you tear your gaze away from the window. You do your best to glance over the back of the couch, your cheek pressing into the cushion, too comfortable to move, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

Your heart flutters at the sight in front of you though. Zayne stands in the foyer, pulling off his many layers of warm clothes with a startling lack of grace. Snow clings to his dark hair and coat, falling to the ground with each of his sluggish movements. The doctor looks tired. His eyes meet yours, dark and warm, hooded just like your own.

You lift the edge of your blankets. A silent invitation.

Zayne trudges across the living room, his steps uncharacteristically heavy. He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table behind the couch. You smother a giggle when he practically collapses against you. It’s like having a large cat curl around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck with a long, content sigh.

Resting your cheek against his hair, you tuck your blankets around his shoulders, murmuring a soft, “Hey, baby.”

The doctor lets out a low rumble in response, drawing you impossibly closer. You inhale sharply when he slips his hands under your sweater, his freezing cold fingers desperately seeking out the warmth of your skin. You shiver as they trace delicately along your waist, slotting in the tight space between you and the couch.

“Your fingers are freezing,” you whine, jarred from your sleepy state.

Of course you don’t actually mind, though. Not with Zayne. Not when he nuzzles so cutely into your neck, murmuring the most unapologetic apology you’ve ever heard, his voice low and raspy with exhaustion. A fuzzy kind of fondness washes over you.

“Long day?”

Zayne sighs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin of your throat, “I’ve slept only three hours in the past two days.”

Poor thing.

You feel a stab of pity for him. That might be the only drawback of winter, you suppose. Akso Hospital is always infinitely busier with this kind of weather. The snow always brings more accidents and Zayne always volunteers to work extra shifts when the need is dire, no matter the cost to his health. It’s something you love, but also something that worries you.

Brows furrowing, you card your fingers through his hair tenderly in hopes of helping him relax. It’s still a little damp from the snow. Zayne shivers when your nails trace over his scalp. Another shaky sigh escapes him when your hand dips under his collar to massage his nape. He practically melts under your touch, his weight pressing you deeper into the couch.

You’re not sure where the movie is now. The cup of hot cocoa on the side table is likely cold. But it’s hard to care. All you can focus on is Zayne. The steady rise and fall of his chest. The faint smell of jasmine hidden under the lingering scent of the hospital. The comforting weight of his body on top of yours.

Eyes fluttering shut, you nuzzle your face into his hair, hands going still around his shoulders. The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours, drifting in and out of sleep as the snow dances outside. It all feels so distant, your blankets hiding you from the cold, from the rest of the world. 

It’s just the two of you.

The two of you, in your shared apartment, always coming home to one another. Just like this.

Your heart warms at the thought. Nudging his forehead gently, you draw Zayne back just enough to see his face. He looks back at you with those hooded eyes, hazel depths brimming with a reverent affection. Biting back a smile, you lean down to kiss him. It’s a tender thing, a mere brush of your lips against his, featherlight and full of devotion. It leaves the both of  you aching yet content as you draw away.

“I love you,” you whisper, nose brushing his sweetly.

“I love you as well, my dear,” he hums, a flicker of a tired smile gracing his lips.

You can’t resist pressing another kiss to them, your own smile breaking through, “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll wake you when it’s time for dinner.”

Without an ounce of resistance, Zayne settles back against you, his head resting on your chest. The soft thrum of your heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the exhaustion finally catching up and pulling him under. You listen as his breathing evens out, deep and slow.

And while you mean to stay up, you can’t resist the warmth, the comfort of having him there with you.

Vaguely, you hear the credit song playing as you drift off into sleep.

---

I have such a thing for calling stoic men 'baby', I feel like it's so soft and cute and he'd honestly probably melt for it. Idk, maybe just me, please don't come for me in the comments.

[nina-ya]

Oh my gosh Nina I LOVE your content!!! It's so detailed and lovely without being too wordy and long it's just amazing oh gosh~

If you don't have too many asks and if it's okay, can I ask for a scenario where it's post-war arc and reader is at his bedside holding his hand while he's recovering just waiting for him to finally wake up. And while he's laying there reader realizes that they love him more than a friend/captain. So when he wakes up they're crying on him and they admit how scared they were to lose him.

Even if you don't write it, thank you so much for all of the content you give us!! You should consider opening/sharing a Ko-fi, I would love to give back as a true thank you!!

Have a blessed night ❤

Waiting for Luffy to Wake Up

Pairing: Luffy x Reader CW: Marineford spoilers if you squint. None overall. WC: 1.2k A/N: AAAAA????? Im going to actually sob at your complement it means a lot to me and truly thank you for reading my silly little writings i'm glad if i can bring joy to even one person. I do have a ko-fi! you can find it here!

You’ve grown accustomed to the smell of heavy antiseptic that inhabited the room. The blinding LED lights had been dimmed, as they usually were when night fell, leaving the room shroud in darkness. The only sources of light were the faint glow seeping in from under the door and the dull gleam of the machines that surrounded his bed. Oh, those machines. The machines that whir and beep through all hours of the day to keep him alive. The heart monitor is one of the machines that you are grateful for, though it was a double-edged sword. It's a reminder that his heart still beats, but the constant beep...beep....beep is a sound that you have grown to dread the longer that you hear it– wishing so desperately that you could hear the sound of his laughter instead of this constant reminder that he has gone through something absolutely terrible.

You couldn’t tell how long you had been in that room by Luffy's side. You knew that at least some days had passed since the surgery, but exactly how long was unknown to you as time seemed to blur the longer you waited to see him open his eyes. The creaking and groaning of the submarine, the chatter that could be heard from the other side of the door, the voices of the people who come in and out of the room, all have seemed to just be muted to you. Your mind could not make room for anything else other than the man in front of you. 

You felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him. How could someone so full of life, so unyielding, be lying here so still? Every move he made all seemed so effortless, it seemed that nothing could bring him down. But now, seeing him like this, you just realized how fragile he could be, and it scared you.

You took hold of his hand, gripping it tight, as if by holding on, you could will him back to consciousness. You could see the rising and falling of his chest to indicate his breathing. You could see the line on the heart monitor rise and fall with each beat of his heart. Yet, you could not help yourself but to distrust the machines lean in, placing your head against his chest and listening for yourself to hear the faint sound of the badump… badump… badump… of his heart to make sure that there is still life in there. 

You sighed in relief hearing that beautiful sound, and yet, other, worrying thoughts occupied you. What if he doesn’t wake up? What if he never opens his eyes again? What if you can never see that smile of his again? Your mind suddenly raced with the things you wish you had said, all the moments you had taken for granted. You leaned back, lifting your head from Luffy’s chest, but your grip on his hand remained tight.

The thoughts began spiraling, bringing forward past memories.  You recalled the first time you met, how he greeted you with that infectious grin, the kind that made you believe that anything was possible. You knew he was special from that moment. You knew that you had to keep him close. And somewhere along the way, without you even realizing it, you knew that you thought of him more than and you just couldn’t ignore it any longer.

Now, as you sat beside him, the weight of him pressed heavily on your heart. Fear and guilt. The two emotions filled your heart. Fear for what the future might hold, for the possibility of losing him forever. Guilt, for not realizing sooner, for not being able to protect him.

You didn’t even realize you were shaking. Your fingers trembled against his, and tears blurred your vision as you fought to contain your emotions. With a shuddering breath, you dropped your head and watched as the tears dropped to the surface below you. You whispered words of encouragement, of hope, of love, though whether they were meant for him your yourself, you couldn’t be sure. “Luffy… please,” you croaked out, your voice cracking with sorrow. “You have to wake up. The crew needs you… I need you…”

You squeezed his hand tighter, lifting your head, allowing the tears to flow down your cheeks as you looked at him. His face was peaceful despite what he went through. And just for a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine a possible future with him if he were to wake up. A future where you could be honest with yourself and with him and could finally tell him how you felt. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears. Your body shook with sobs that left you gasping for breath. You knew that you couldn’t live in a world without him, and the mere thought of it hurt like nothing else. 

In your dazed state, you felt his hand twitch. At first, you dismissed it as wishful thinking, but then you heard a shift in his breathing. Your sobs stopped abruptly as you stared at him with baited breath, wondering if it was just your mind playing a sick and cruel trick. But then you saw it– his chest rose sharply as he gasped for breath, his eyes fluttering open. It was real. 

“Lu…Luffy?” You asked, your voice barely audible. You could not dare believe your eyes. He turned his head towards you, the motion strained and clearly weakened by the toll his body had endured, but the motion was enough to send you flying into his arms. You hugged him as tightly as you could, despite the wires and machines in the way. “Oh my gosh! Y-you’re okay!” you exclaimed between sobs. “Don’t ever do that to me again! Fuck… you had me so scared,” you cried, slumping over him.

Luffy groaned in pain under the weight of your embrace, and you quickly backed off, apologizing for any discomfort you may have caused. “Sorry, sorry,” you stammered, reaching out to touch his face gently. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. It’s just…” You traced his face, tears still spilling from your own. “You scared me…”

He looked like he wanted to say something. He struggled, reaching to take off the oxygen mask that was over his mouth. His chest heaved as he took in the air without the help of the mask, something clearly on his mind. Not even discomfort seemed to be at the forefront of his emotions. His voice was raspy and faint, and his words were disjointed as he tried speaking. “Ace?” was all he could ask, confusion evident in his eyes. Your heart sank. You knew that question too well– it was a name that would soon carry a heavy burden for him.

Your confession to Luffy could wait. All those feelings you had just realized can be kept to yourself. Right now, he had more important matters to deal with, a grief that would require your complete and utter support. It wasn’t about you, it was about being there for him during this point in his life. So, you held back those words of love that were on the tip of your tongue. Those can wait. Right now, he just needed you to be there for him more than anything.

[hamiltonaf]

Oh my god I’m so excited to see your requests are open I wanted to request something for the lovely Daniel ricciardo being more handsy with reader while on the paddock and him getting interviewed about it later since the fans have been posting pictures of their intimate moments and him kind of joking in a “how could I not?” Type of way? Thank you

PDA | Daniel Ricciardo

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Female Reader

Word Count: 907

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello loves ! Firstly, apologies for the delay in writing requests as I had a lot going on. If you’ve sent in a request, I’m working on it, just bear with me :) Hope you babes enjoy. Thanks anon for requesting .xx

The Monza GP was a special race weekend for Daniel, besides his home race. With his Italian roots, it’s his second home so indirectly another home race.

This special race weekend had inspired him I guess you could say for our relationship to be full on public. For the many months we’ve been together, I’ve made my few appearances in the paddock and sometimes alongside Daniel but rarely. I quite enjoy our relationship being private, but I guess if he’s happier with us being public then so be it.

Besides the rare ‘papped’ pictures of us together - which left some people to question on numerous occasions if we’re still together - we don’t even have posts of each other on our socials. It’s always the private but not secret kind of story posts…I guess that all ends now.

I only managed to arrive in Monza on race day, no pressure. Note the sarcasm. As soon as we jumped out of the car, I suddenly felt sick at the thought of all eyes on us.

Daniel noticed I zoned out, he then snapped his fingers in front of me, “Babe are you okay ?” He asked concerned. “Yeah I’m okay” I forced a smile. He grabbed a hold of my hand and I guess he noticed the clamminess. “Are you sure you’re okay ?” He furrowed his brows. “You look nervous” he added. “I’m not gonna lie…I am” I admitted with a sigh.

“Nervous about what love ?” He asked concerned. “I’m not used to attention in public” I said as I looked everywhere but him. He then grabbed a hold of my face to look at him, “Just relax. I’m with you every step of the way… I just want to show you off to the world without hiding it anymore. I want to love you publicly and not hide it anymore - not gonna lie, it’s also kind of getting hard for me to resist touching you” he smirked.

After laughing along with him, it helped a lot with easing my nerves. Thank god for sunglasses as well. As long as I had them on, the nerves didn’t exist. We walked in the paddock hand in hand, nothing major.

Up until it was time for Daniel to leave the garage, he surprised me by engulfing me in a hug and leaving a kiss on my cheek. “Good luck babe and be safe” I said softly to him before he left. I failed to realise that being a new wag means being watched at all times.

I don’t know what had gotten over me, a boost of confidence and a moment of being proud for Daniel’s great race finish had me returning the favour of engulfing Daniel in a hug and leaving a kiss on his cheek. He then lifted me up and spun me around. In that moment it felt like we were the only ones in that garage and everyone else was muted.

Before we knew it, he had to quickly leave to attend to post-race interviews. I waited patiently in his drivers room and decided to waste some time on my socials. As I was scrolling, a video was already uploaded of one of Daniel’s interviews. Out of curiosity I decided to play it.

“So Daniel, incredible result in the Alpha Tauri today ! Brilliant drive, where did that come from or perhaps should I say who helped with that ?” Natalie teased. He immediately started blushing and looked away, it was so cute to watch. “Welllll” he trailed. “Oh come on, tell us how (Y/N) motivated you today. You guys make a lovely couple and I have to ask since everyone can’t stop talking about how cute you both are, you can’t seem to leave her can you ?” Natalie joked.

“How can I not, have you guys seen her ? She just makes me so happy and she’s one of my biggest cheerleaders. I’m a really lucky guy and I just wanted her to be apart of my special weekend. Today’s result was all so I could see that reaction from her” he smiled proudly. “You mean this one ?” Natalie asked as she then showed him the array of pictures that were taken of us today. “Paddock favourite already. Well, thank you for your time and hopefully we’ll see you both at the next race weekend. Cheers !” Natalie said lastly. “Of course ! Cheers guys” Daniel said lastly before the interview ended. “Handsome guy” he said from behind me.

“Oh my god ! Dan you scared me” I said as I placed a hand on my chest. “Sorry love, let’s get going” he said as he held his hand out for me to hold. With our fingers entwined, we walked through the paddock to the car. Fans and photographers around had taken pictures, I didn’t mind since I was comfortable at this point.

Once we got into the car, I broke the silence “You really did a hard launch today” I smiled. “That wasn’t a hard launch for me” he pouted. “What was missing ?” I furrowed my brows. “This” he said as he cupped my cheeks and pulled me in for a sweet kiss. So much for thinking we were alone, I quickly broke away when I heard screaming from fangirls. “Well, that really was a hard launch” I said as I felt the heat flush my cheeks.

[pia55tri]

Carcar prompt!!

Carlos follows Oscar back on Insta randomly and Oscar is very ??? about it hehe

thank you for sending in a prompt 🫶

Oscar gets so many notifications on his public socials that he’s muted them all. That isn’t to say that he isn’t immediately informed when anything happens, because he is.

This time, it’s a message from his social media manager, who doesn’t really manage his posts, but does keep an eye out on them for the team. It goes, Just a few comments from some drivers on your latest post. And Carlos followed you back.

And Oscar’s immediate instinct is to ask, Carlos who?

Is it Carlos Alcaraz? That would be cool, but unlikely.

Even just as unlikely is Carlos Sainz Jr. following him back. But that’s just what happens.

Oscar stares at his followers list for a long moment. He isn’t on bad terms with Carlos, per se. But they’re not on — on great terms either. They just.

They talk. A lot. Carlos talks a lot, in general, and Oscar is exactly the type to goad him, so when they end up in the same vicinity — which is often, nowadays, given that they’re both living in Monaco and bumping into each other at the gym, or the padel court, or even Lando’s favourite haunts around the city — they end up talking for longer than Oscar anticipates.

And they take the same private jets. Same planes, if they’re flying commercial. They have the same friends on the grid. They go to the same gym.

It just happens. Oscar never expected it to, but it does. And somehow all those coincidences and those conversations snowball into texting on the regular and sending each other ridiculous posts from the internet and sports news clips and short messages about their very separate days. And.

Anyway. Throughout it all, Carlos never followed Oscar back on instagram. It was funny, at first (and still is, really), because Carlos would leave comments on his posts like a terrible stalker. For the first few weeks of their sort-of-friendship, Oscar doesn’t think that Carlos even knew he hadn’t been following Oscar back. But it’s since been a little joke between them.

(And imagine that, an inside joke between Oscar and Carlos Sainz Jr. Oscar was a child and spectator at one of Carlos’s rookie races. Little Oscar would have laughed in disbelief. Rookie Oscar would have also laughed in disbelief, in, albeit, a mildly different manner.)

So, now. Oscar is up at an unreasonable time, lounging in his underwear, in the middle of his messy room, and staring at the carlossainz55 in his followers list.

What the fuck.

He needs a sympathetic ear.

🏎🏎

“Okay?” Logan is not at all sympathetic. “And, uh, how does that make you feel?”

“I’m. Normal about it.”

“If you were normal about it, you wouldn’t have called me about it at,” a rustle and a sigh, “three in the morning about it. Mate, I have a meeting in, like, four hours.”

“Logan, please.”

“Call Fred or something.”

“No!” Oscar immediately protests. “And no calling Lando either. They’ll just tell me to— to smooch him or something.”

Another pause. “Well, mate, I don’t know what to tell you, but I personally think that if you’re thinking about ‘smooching’ someone at three in the morning, then you should probably do that.”

Oscar groans. “Fuck you, too.”

“Cheers,” Logan says brightly, then hangs up on him.

Oscar groans again.

🏎🏎

He finally gives in to his little lizard hindbrain and pulls up his messages with Carlos.

So you’re finally signing up to seeing me on your timeline regularly?

He stares at his screen with some shock at his own audacity. What is he—

A buzz. And a reply from Carlos.

Much easier than me going to look for your account every time I want to see you, yes?

Oscar stares some more.

Carefully, he places his phone screen-down on his bed. Looks up at the ceiling.

He can feel his heart in his throat.

Well.

Well.

[vinjinssunglasses]

Hey can u write a Seongji Yuk x selectively mute!reader please

─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────

character seongji yuk

summary him in a relationship w u <3 (selectively mute)

start no clue

end 21 sept

a/n tysm for req! I’m not selectively mute, so tell me if this is anyway inaccurate n I’ll change it. this is a lil bit shorter <33 sorry for taking so long aswell😭🙏

─────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───────

ᯓ★ Respects your boundaries. He’ll never push you to talk whenever you don’t want to, but rather savour the comfortable silence where you’re together. He loves just being around you, just having you in his presence is enough to soothe him.

ᯓ★ The silence between the two of you is never suffocating. The warmth of your hands intertwined and the slow smiles curving from each others lips when you occasionally make eye contact allows the both of you to relax.

ᯓ★ Instead of dates where you’d go out to eat at loud restaurants, you’d both prefer to stay inside, cuddling on the couch while watching a tv show comfortably. As always, he made his favourite snack, tanghulu, but you only sigh and take a bite instead of complaining. No matter how many times you write messages about how dangerous this much sugar is, he never listens.

ᯓ★ Around the house, post it notes are stuck to walls back-to-back with cute little messages and inside jokes. You’d notice a note stuck on the fridge with a ‘I love you. don’t eat my food. 😾’ and you’d reply back, then going back and forth with bits of banter.

ᯓ★ Instead of verbal communication, you naturally understand each other with only meaningful glances and subtle gestures that just the two of you understand. There’s never a need to talk between you two, only when you’re comfortable enough.

(Usually, you’d use pen and paper or type on your phone.)

ᯓ★ He plans dates to take the main focus off of talking, letting the silence between the both of you communicate louder than words could. A soft brush of your hands, and you turn to face each other. The gentle tickle of sand under your fingers sparking anticipation. Your heart flutters when he takes the initiative to intertwine your fingers.

The sun casted a golden, pink glow over the horizon as it slowly dips. A gentle breeze carried the smell of seawater, feeling cool onto your skin while seagulls flutter into the distance. The tranquil beach was your favourite place to just relax with each other, side by side, taking in the breeze. Ever since you’ve been friends, you’d frequent this mesmerising view. Although you’d find yourself studying Seongji’s features rather the rising and falling of the tide hitting against the rocks.

Tonight was different. It was your first anniversary of being friends, yet the air between you two felt distant. Do people even celebrate this? It was only an excuse for you to see him that day. Do friends hold hands? Make up first year anniversaries and believe it? Does he feel the same way? These thoughts danced around in your mind, and came up with a foolish idea to finally write the words I love you. A piece of paper and a pencil rested beside you, and your hand itched to pick it up.

Seongji noticed your eyes lingering, lips parted as if you wanted to say something. He leaned closer, catching you off guard, and spoke softly.

“Are you okay?” His voice flows smoothly; like the warmth of a spring breeze, barely above a whisper. Combing his hands through your hair, you couldn’t help but fluster at the sudden contact. You paused and he waited for a response, knowing you wouldn’t express it with words. And he didn’t expect you to either

Lips trembling, the silence that was once comforting started to overwhelm your senses. You expected yourself to be able to do this with ease, yet here you were, shaking. Seongji called out your name, squeezed your hands in a feeble attempt to get you to respond in any way. If only you knew how much you meant to him. Pathetic. You felt pathetic. If only you were a little stronger…

“I love you, Seongji.” You muttered, and the world around you two went silent. The birds fussing in the sky, crabs scattering at the commotion, tree leaves dancing… It paused for a moment. Seongji gazed into your eyes, a glitter of hope inside his. He cupped your cheeks that ran with your tears, wiping them away in his thumb. Words couldn’t express how glad he felt in this moment. The words jumbled in his throat and the only thing he could do was hold you tight in his arms, head nestling against the pulse in your neck.

Nothing else mattered. The fact that this is the first time you felt comfortable speaking didn’t matter. He pulled away, and that’s when you noticed the tears glistening down his cheek. Seongji placed a passionate kiss on your lips, one that he’s been holding in for too long.

“I love you too.” Seongji whispered against your lips, pulling you in for another.

ᯓ★ Even throughout the surprise dinner the rest of Cheonliang fam held in congratulations for your relationship, he held your hand. At first, you didn’t plan on telling them. But when they caught you exchanging kisses on the lips, the secret slipped away. He gently stroked your hand with his thumb, a subtle reminder he was there for you. A touch so soft, as if silently asking are you okay? and you felt so safe knowing he were there with you. Every so often, hed glance at your facial expression, a search for any signs of discomfort.

He knows you’re not great at huge events or parties like this. Seongji even insisted you should relax at home for a while, though you wanted to. After all, everyone was so happy; giggling and cheering for the both of you. You felt you couldn’t let them down. The loud talking pained your ears, as well as the music playing from the radio. A nod here, and a gentle squeeze of his hand there. As always, your eyes did all the talking. When questions were asked, your gaze would shift to him, a silent request between the two of you.

Sometimes, you were comfortable enough to say a few words at questions that weren’t bothersome, and nobody would make a big deal. The air between everyone was chatty and easy-going, and that’s what you loved about the Cheonliang fam.

Somewhere to call home, and people to all family is all you’ve ever wanted.

You’ve struck gold.

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Someone Like You

Pairing: Billy Taylor (The Halcyon) x f!reader Warnings: Mild angst, handjob, smut. Word count: ~1.4k

Summary: The Halcyon is hosting its Christmas Eve party for its guests, and her and Billy are both feeling the pressure of being rushed off their feet. They find a moment of respite alone together.

Author's note: A part two of my first Smuffmas entry. Day eleven of the Smuffmas prompts - "a fancy party and praising". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

It has been twelve days since her and Billy had decorated the staff sitting room. Twelve long, miserable days since she had last felt his lips upon hers and the way he’d rutted against her, not that she’s counting. They have scarcely had a chance to see each other in the lead up to Christmas. Beyond shy smiles and blushes exchanged in passing, they’ve had no other interaction. But that’s not for lack of wanting to or trying. The mistletoe she’d rescued has remained in her apron pocket, primed for an opportune moment.

December is always the busiest time of year for the hotel. People want to celebrate in style, and so they check in to the Halcyon to be waited on hand and foot. She’s not sure what it is about Christmas that drives people to make the most outlandish demands of the staff, but it has stolen away her festive cheer. She is exhausted.

It’s Christmas Eve and the day has been spent preparing for the annual party they host for the guests who will be staying with them on the big day itself. On top of turning down rooms, and helping the kitchen staff to prepare food, she’s now expected to serve drinks at the party itself.

The staff who are married with children have been given Christmas off to spend with their families, so The Halcyon is operating on a skeleton crew of the young and the single, her and Billy are unlucky enough to find themselves among them.

She weaves her way through the bar, abuzz with the sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses. Every surface seems to glitter with decorations, amplified by the muted lighting of the lamps that adorn the centre of each table.

Nodding and smiling politely each time a guest relieves her of a saucer of champagne that rests on the heavy tray she carries around the room, she breathes a withering sigh once it’s finally empty. Her feet ache with how many passes she’s made around the crowded space, yet there’s no time to rest. She has to collect the empties and take them back to the kitchen to be washed, so that they can be refilled anew by the bar staff. It seems never ending.

Doing a quick scan of the bar, she can see that Kate and Feldman are circling the room with drinks and canapés, so she’ll be fine to leave for a little while to wash up some glasses. The food prep has already been done, so the kitchen is empty, save for the staff going in to refresh plates and glassware. 

The empties rattle precariously against each other on her tray as she walks carefully back to the kitchen, her burden suddenly seeming not quite so great as she spots Billy doing exactly the same thing. He’s clad in his usual bellboy uniform, though is without his cap, a means to help him blend in with the rest of the serving staff.

He pushes his tray onto the draining board next to the sink, and a glass wobbles, toppling off and shattering loudly against the hard linoleum of the kitchen floor.

“Ah– shit!” He grumbles, kneeling to pick up the pieces.

She quickly deposits her own tray onto the food prep table and kneels to help him.

“It’s okay, Billy, it’s just a glass,” she reassures him, picking up some of the larger shards and depositing them into the bin beneath the sink.

“I know, I know,” he replies with a sigh, “but I can’t seem to get anything right today.”

“How do you mean?” She asks, righting herself and brushing her hands on her skirt as he reaches for a dustpan and brush to sweep up the rest of the mess.

“Spilled champagne all down a lady’s frock just now, broke a glass,” his brow furrows as he brushes the broken pieces into the pan and empties it into the bin. “Brought the wrong luggage to the wrong room earlier too.”

She watches as he stands again, chucking the dustpan and brush to one side, and she offers him a sympathetic smile. “It’s our busiest time of year, everyone makes mistakes. I forgot to fold the toilet paper into a point in the Royal Suite earlier, and Mrs. Garland gave me a right earful.”

He tugs awkwardly at the bottom of his bellboy uniform, his mouth turned downwards, as is his gaze. “Yeah…but…I’m gonna be drafted next year. If I can’t get this job right, how am I gonna manage to defend our country? I’m useless.”

Her brows pinch together in concern, stepping forward to gently cup Billy’s cheek. It’s soft and warm against her palm, growing warmer still beneath her touch. “Oi, don’t talk like that. You’re doing a fine job. And you’re so brave, I know I’ll feel safer having you protecting us all.”

His blue eyes flit up to meet hers, wide and filled with uncertainty. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Billy, I think you’re wonderful.”

He huffs a soft chuckle, turning pink as he pulls away slightly, lips pressed into a tight smile. “I dunno about that…”

“Well, I do,” she reaches into her apron pocket, pulling out the mistletoe she’s kept stashed there since their first kiss. “See? I’ve been saving this in the hopes we’d use it again.”

Billy visibly softens, shoulders pulling away from his ears, and he steps towards her, hands gripping her waist as he presses his lips to hers. It’s a slow, soft, lingering kiss that they hold for a few moments, before he reluctantly breaks away. It sets her pulse racing and she wraps both her arms around his neck to keep him close.

“Anyone could walk in,” he whispers, his eyes searching her face uncertainly.

“They won’t though. They’re all busy.”

She kisses him again, and this time they are both more eager as he backs her up against the sink. She smiles into it, the mistletoe she’d been holding absentmindedly falling from her fingers and onto the floor behind them.

His excitement grows more apparent as he presses against her, and she drops an arm down between them to palm at him through his grey trousers.

He groans, pressing his forehead against hers. “We shouldn’t…”

“But you want to?”

“God…yes…yes!”

His voice is a strained whisper, causing excitement to flutter hotly in her lower belly. She uses both hands to unbuckle his belt, before unzipping his trousers and snaking her fingers into his underwear to wrap around his hardened length.

Her eyes widen slightly in surprise. Though she’d felt it as he’d ground against her the first time they’d kissed, it’s another thing entirely to have her hand on it. Billy is impressively well endowed.

“So big,” she coos, her thumb swiping over the wetness that’s gathered at the tip.

His head falls against her shoulder with a gasp, and his grip on her waist tightens as she slowly strokes her hand up and down, dragging the foreskin along with it, feeling every ridge and vein.

“So good for me, Billy, you’re so good.”

She speeds up her movements and his head tilts back slightly, eyes screwed shut and lips parted, as he breathes raggedly. “Oh god…please…”

Smirking, she leans in, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Have you ever been with a woman, Billy?”

“N–no,” he pants, hips canting to chase the movement of her hand.

“Do you think about it when you touch yourself?”

“Yeah…I…I think about you.”

She clenches around nothing at the confession, biting her lip, twisting her wrist slightly as she pumps at his cock.

“Is that what you want?”

He whines slightly, nodding and pulling her closer, a strand of his gelled hair falling forward against his forehead. “Mmmm…I want you.”

“Such a good boy,” she purrs. “Perhaps if you ask nicely then that’s what you’ll get for Christmas.”

She feels his stomach muscles tense, a grunt escaping him as he pulsates in her palm, coating her knuckles in hot, sticky spend.

Withdrawing her hand, she licks it from her fingers, the taste slightly salty, and hums in satisfaction.

He stares at her, chest heaving and eyes wide, transfixed by the sight.

“Are you real?” He asks breathlessly.

She giggles, brushing his stray strand of hair back into place. “If you do a good job for the rest of this evening, perhaps I’ll let you find out.”

[bookworm551]

Take the Edge Off | Part 2 | Focus

Things are tense between you and Miguel, and it all comes to a head when you try working a mission together.

A/N: this is technically a part 2, but it stands on its own pretty well. I might just keep going with these posts bc I can’t get him out of my head

Warnings: p in v, fingering, biting (ykwim), MINORS and my roommate DNI

Word count: 4.4k

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

With all the time you spent in Miguel's dimension, sometimes, you forgot that you had your own. You loved spending time amongst the Spider-Society, so many of different people who were like you in all the important ways. It was a nice environment, but it was also nice to be home every once in a while.

You'd been home for about 10 days now. You had never gone so long without being called in for a mission, and while it was nice to take a break from capturing anomalies, it also made you a little nervous. You came back the day after Miguel had visited you and left you a new gizmo...

...among other things.

Now, it had been nearly a week and a half, and there had been complete radio silence from Earth-928. You were starting to think that your little encounter with Miguel was to blame. Maybe he wanted you out now.

You had gone out to your favorite spot in the city to clear your mind. Just as you were preparing to swing back home, a beeping noise captured your attention from your wrist. Your heart leapt as you raised your arm in front of you, and Lyla's glowing, yellow form appeared from your watch. "Hey there," she greeted casually. "Boss wants you to run backup on an anomaly on Earth-287."

You smiled faintly as the code appeared on your device. "Sounds good," you replied, standing to your feet and walking onto the side of the building so that you were staring straight down at the street hundreds of feet below. "I'll be right there."

You activated the code, and a dimensional portal opened up in front of you further down the building. Taking a breath, you let go of your grip on the building and allowed gravity to pull you down into the portal. The shift in gravity was exhilarating as you emerged from the portal into Earth-287.

Emerging from the portal, everything was dull. The sun had set a while ago here, but even if it had been out, the colors would still be strangely muted. The building that you stood atop of overlooked a large city with strange gray, yellow, and green lights. This was a weird dimension.

Standing together, Pavitr and one of the many Peter Parkers was there. Upon seeing you emerge from the portal, Pav perked up. "You're here!" He said in an excited voice as you approached. You smiled under your mask and replied with the same energy, "I am!"

Glancing around, you noticed the lack of a certain presence you had expected to be there. "Is it just you guys here?" You asked casually. Before they could answer you, a cold voice behind you said, "What are you doing here?"

You whipped around and found Miguel's figure looming over you. Though his face was concealed behind his mask, you could tell by his rigid stature and unwelcoming tone that he was not very happy to see you. This was not really the greeting you'd hoped to receive from him.

"Lyla sent me," you told him defensively. "She said you wanted me to run backup with you." The eyes of his mask squinted down at you menacingly. "I didn't send for you," he said in an level tone. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and stared up at him stubbornly. "Then why am I here?" You demanded to know.

"Actually, you did mention calling for an extra member," Pav reminded him cheerfully. You looked back at Miguel with triumphant posture. "And here I am," you said. Miguel didn't seem amused, and he stared down at you for moment before sighing in resignation.

"Fine," he muttered reluctantly before turning away from you to look at his watch. "We have a Goblin anomaly somewhere in the vicinity. This is a routine bag and tag, but we need to cover our bases and sweep the area separately. Whoever finds him first needs to call it in for the rest of us. Am I understood?" His gaze seemed to be fixed on you, and you felt like his last question was directed at you.

You cocked your head a little at him before replying in a smooth voice, "Yes, sir." Miguel didn't reply nor did he give you any sort of reaction, but you could feel his eyes on you as you walked toward the edge of the building. "I call the north side," you stated before casually falling off the side and swinging away.

Leaving them behind, you were gliding between the buildings, looking for any signs of the anomaly or any traces of environmental glitching he may have left. You swung through the strangely-colored city until you landed on the top of a building to observe the cityscape below. You crouched low on the edge of the building, scanning carefully for any signs of the anomaly.

After a few minutes, you were about to get up and swing away before the sound of feet landing behind you stopped you. You whipped around and shot a web reactively. Miguel sidestepped your web, his head tilted in an unimpressed posture.

"I told you, I called north," you said with a huff of annoyance. "I have reason to believe the anomaly is somewhere in this direction," he told you vaguely. You put a hand on your hip. "Okay, well, this is my direction. I'll let you know if he shows up," you stated stubbornly.

"Hey, this is my mission," he argued. "I can go where I want." You rolled your eyes under your mask. "Whatever," you muttered. "Just don't get in my way."

He chose not to respond to your comment. An uncomfortable silence settled over you, and you didn't know whether to leave it or to try to alleviate it. Miguel made the choice for you. "Where have you been?" He asked finally. It was an attempt at a normal conversation, at relieving some of the tension that was wedged between the two of you.

You shrugged and replied nonchalantly, "Home. I figured you'd call if you needed me, and you did."

"Need is a strong word," he muttered. You scoffed softly. Miguel never wanted to seem like he relied on anyone. "Well, in that case, I can just go home. The newest episode of my favorite show comes out tonight." Despite his face being hidden behind his mask, you could tell that Miguel was unamused. "Let's just focus on finding this anomaly," he grumbled, turning his face away from you back to the streets below. 

"I'm focused," you told him casually. "Are you focused?" "I could probably focus if you could shut your mouth," he snapped. "Maybe I would if you asked nicely for once," you shot back, a smile pulling at your lips behind your mask. "Ever heard of saying please? Or maybe...por favor?"

His head turned slowly to look at you, and it was impossible for you to tell what he was thinking. "No?" You said. "Okay, then I'll do as I please."

He sighed in exasperation but didn't say anything. Just as the silence felt overbearing, a large crash captured your attention. "Sounds like our guy," you said before somersaulting over the edge of the building and swinging toward the sound. Miguel was right behind you as you both headed for the noise together.

There in the streets was your guy. Goblin was recognizable across any dimension, and this was no different, but looking at this short figure below, you almost wanted to laugh. He was thin, and his figure was stooped, and he didn't have a glider like you were used to seeing. This would be a cinch.

The anomaly spotted you before you could reach him, and he crouched with a sneer and called out, "Spider-Man!" Then, seeing your figure next to Miguel, he added, "...and company?"

"I'm Spider-Woman!" You clarified cheerfully as you shot your web at him. "Nice to meet you!" The little goblin rolled out of the way before your web was able to catch him.

"Where am I?" He demanded to know. Behind your mask, you rolled your eyes. "Always the same questions," you muttered. "'Where am I?' 'Who are you?' 'What is this place?' When are you guys gonna switch it up and ask how I'm doing?"

"Can you stop talking and focus?" Miguel snapped as he tried webbing the anomaly to no avail. You sighed. Banter was your thing. In fact, it was almost every Spider-Person's thing except for Miguel. It was definitely not his thing.

"You'll have to forgive my colleague here!" You called out to Goblin as you twisted in the air to avoid one of the bombs launched at you by him. "He's a little crankier than usual. I'm not sure why."

"You want to know why?" Miguel called out to you in irritation, webbing a bomb and throwing it back at the villain below. "It's because you're getting on my last nerve!" You sighed in exasperation. "I'm pretty sure you've only got one nerve, and someone's almost always on it," you grumbled.

You both managed to knock the anomaly into a dim warehouse. Together, you webbed his arms to the wall he was cornered into. He was looking around frantically for an escape. "Listen, bud, this isn't personal," you told him. "We just need to make sure you go home." You felt pretty confident about this whole mission, definitely one of the easy ones.

Goblin stopped struggling to free his hand and looked at you with a crazed smile, and you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand up at the sight. "Workplace relationships can be tricky," he stated. "I think you two should try resolving some of this tension."

Before you could reply, the anomaly kicked his leg, and a small, metallic sphere came rolling out of the sole of his boot. You barely had time to say "Uh oh," before the explosion knocked you and Miguel backwards. As you were recovering from the impact, the Goblin actually took flight, breaking free of the web bindings.

"What the hell?" You exclaimed. This Goblin didn't use a glider like you were used to, he had some weird type of rocket boots. He flew up and smashed his way out of the warehouse window and out to the sky with a loud cackle.

"He's getting away!" Miguel shouted as if you weren't already aware of the fact. You both slung yourselves up to the window and outside the building, but the Goblin was much faster than you both, and before you could catch up, he was out of sight.

Miguel punched the wall next to you and snarled in frustration. After taking a few breaths, he lowered his arm and stood completely still except for his deep, even breathing. His back was toward you, and you could tell that he was holding back a tidal wave of fury. Well, you might as well break the dam.

"You're awfully quiet," you stated reluctantly. "Anything you want to get off of your chest?"

Miguel whipped around and looked over you menacingly. "You let him get away!" He shouted at you.

"Me?!" You asked incredulously, ripping your mask off of your face. "How was that my fault?" His suit receded from his face as well, displaying his frustrated expression. "You were supposed to catch him! It's a very simple expectation," he told you angrily.

You scoffed. "Well, excuse me for not knowing this Goblin had flying boots instead of a glider," you said. "It's just as much your fault as it is mine."

Miguel wasn't happy with that statement. He took a step closer to you and crossed his arms over his chest. "It is your fault," Miguel snapped at you. "And now he's gone again." You stepped toward him defiantly and crossed your arms to mirror him. "Maybe if you weren't breathing down my neck, I could've gotten him," you retorted.

"That's your excuse?" He asked in an exasperated tone. "Yeah, it is," you replied sharply. "What's yours?"

"You're distracting me."

"I'm distracting you?"

"Yes."

"What does that mean?"

"It means," he said in a low voice as he took another step towards you so that his face was inches from your own, "you are distracting me. You never should have come on this mission." Your heartbeat sped up a little at how close he was now, and you couldn't help but look at his lips as he spoke.

"Well, too bad," you told him stubbornly. "I'm here, and you've got to deal with it. So, instead of fighting about it, why don't you get off my ass and help me catch this guy?"

"You don't get to tell me what to do," he argued. "I'll stay on your ass if I want to." You raised an eyebrow at his comment and had to suppress a snicker. Miguel realized as soon as the words left his mouth how they sounded, and he closed his eyes in a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. "Just focus on finding the Goblin anomaly," he grumbled.

"Oh, so you don't want to stay on my ass anymore?" You clarified with a smirk. He scowled down at you and snarled, "Do you ever just shut up?" You weren't deterred by his temper. Instead, you batted your eyelids up at him and gave him an overly-sweet smile. "Only if you ask nicely, remember?"

Miguel finally had enough of you. He shoved you back against the wall, making you gasp in surprise, and placed a hand on your throat. "I'm done being nice with you," he growled before crashing his lips down on yours with every ounce of his frustration.

You kissed him back with as much aggression, your tongues exploring each other's mouths impatiently. His hand slid down from your neck to grope your breasts over your suit. You sighed loudly as his hands roamed across your body, and when he pressed his knee between your legs, you couldn't stop the moan that emerged from your throat.

"What about the others?" You gasped. "What if they find us and—," Miguel cut you off with another open-mouthed kiss. "I don't give a fuck," he murmured against your lips. "They can watch for all I care."

You took a shuddering breath as he pulled at the neck of your suit. It had been designed for easy removal when you needed a quick change back in your world, but now, Miguel was using it to his advantage to pull it down over your shoulders. You didn't resist him disrobing you. You hadn't expected this at all, but with the frustration you both caused each other, you shouldn't have been so surprised.

You pulled your arms out of your suit as he peeled the fabric off of your torso. Miguel didn't have the patience left in him to properly undress you. Your suit was at your knees before he abandoned any further effort of taking it off. "Fucking full-body suits," he muttered in annoyance as he pressed heated kisses to your exposed neck.

You huffed an amused breath while you kicked off your boots and the remainder of your suit. His lips left a trail of sloppy kisses from your collarbone, up your neck, until they finally found your mouth. His tongue forced its way between your lips, and you couldn't help but moan at his overpowering touch. You barely even felt rough surface of the wall against your back as Miguel pushed his body against yours.

He was so tall that it seemed like his figure was devouring yours. To remedy the height different, Miguel's large hands hoisted you up by your thighs close to his own height and pushed you up against the wall roughly. You grunted at the force of his body shoving you against the brick, but you didn't care, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. You had both hands gripping his head, pulling his mouth to yours eagerly, tongues practically down each others throats.

Miguel's hands were gripping tightly at your thighs before he reached up and pulled down on your underwear. He wasn't holding you up anymore, relying instead on your ability to stick to the wall to keep you upright. Now that he didn't have to support you, his hands were free to do what he liked.

Your breathing quickened as his fingers teased the outside of your hot entrance. He traced over your clit, causing you to groan and throw your head back against the brick. "Is this what it takes to get you to shut up?" He growled in your ear. You wanted to say something snappy back to him, but right as you opened your mouth, he pushed two of his fingers into you, and you were unable to do anything but let out a gasping moan.

Your fingers ran through his hair, gripping it tightly as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Not such a smart ass now, huh?" He observed smugly. You wanted desperately to prove him wrong and shoot him a smart retort, but the pace he was setting with his fingers rendered you speechless.

You leaned your head against his as you took shaky breaths to regain some semblance of thought. "What h-happened to focus on the— on the mission?" You managed to ask through panting breaths. His fingers were curling inside you, making it difficult to speak properly.

"I told you," he whispered in a low voice, his lips tickling your ear. "You're distracting me. How am I supposed to focus when you're here with me?" He placed a wet kiss on your neck, and you sighed at the sensation.

"All I can think about is how good you feel around me," he murmured against your skin, "and all the pretty sounds you make." His fingers continued fucking you while his thumb started moving in circles around your clit, forcing a loud moan from your mouth.

"Even your scent," he continued. "I could smell you the minute you arrived. It's been driving me fucking crazy." Your legs were starting to shake as you felt yourself growing closer. Miguel could sense it too, no doubt, from your staggering gasps and the tightened grip you had on his hair.

"And now, you're letting me touch you like this in the middle of a mission," he said. "How do you expect me to focus on anything when you're here?" His voice sounded frustrated, angry almost, and that frustration was evident in the way his pace increased.

You were gasping his name over and over again, unable to say or do anything else. He was touching you in all the right places in all the right ways. The resentment you had felt for him before had completely transformed into lust, and as he continued moving his fingers in and out of you, you knew you weren't going to last much longer.

Miguel ran his tongue up the side of your neck before whispering into your ear, "Look at you. Are you gonna cum on my fingers while we're on a mission?"

As if to answer his question, your whole body began shaking, and you let out a trembling moan out as your orgasm overtook you. Something resembling a laugh came from Miguel's lips as he felt your body clenching around him, and he was pulled in closer by your gripping arms. Your breathing came in shallow gasps as your body trembled with his touch.

After a moment, his hand slowed down until he pulled out of you completely. Dazed, you blinked your eyes open to look at him. His eyes were red with lust, and he brought his hand up and sucked his soaking fingers without looking away from you. Your body was still twitching from your high, and the sight in front of you made you moan softly.

"I'm not done yet," he murmured as he gripped your jaw in his hand. You were still recovering from the intensity of your orgasm, and your head was limp in his hands. He noticed and moved your face back and forth to test your submission. "Dios mío, you're a mess," he noted with a smirk. "Are you gonna let me fuck you like this?"

Still trying to recover your breath, you were barely able to give him a faint nod of your head. "That's right," he said softly, placing another kiss on your neck, but you were barely registered it as you felt something hard at your soaking entrance. Miguel had retracted his suit just at his waist, and it seemed that this time, he hadn't even bothered with wearing anything underneath.

"Must be convenient having a nanotech suit," you commented under your breath. "It's not nanotech," he corrected. "It's much cooler than that." You rolled your eyes. Even during sex, he had to be right. "Whatever," you replied. "You don't have to nerd ou—"

You cut yourself off with a sharp gasp as Miguel pushed himself into you without warning. You tugged at his hair reactively as the stretch of your pussy made you whine. "Just shut the fuck up," he muttered into your ear.

He gave you a second to adjust before he started moving his hips against yours. You head fell back against the wall as he thrust in and out of you desperately. He had no regard for how the rough brick was scraping against your skin. He was now engaged entirely in his own pleasure, using you to channel all his frustration into satisfaction. You didn't mind one bit.

His pace was relentless. His head was pressed against your temple, and his panting breaths tickled your ear. You still had a tight grip on his hair as he fucked you mercilessly while your other hand held onto his shoulder in desperation.

Miguel's hands were digging into your thighs as soft grunts formed in his throat. "I've been craving you all week," he told you with a gruff voice, interrupting the repetitive sound of his hips slapping against your cunt. "The way you feel, how you take me so well, it's all I can think about."

You whimpered in his ear as he continued rolling his hips against yours at a savage pace. You were getting high off of his words, and all you could do to encourage him was moan. "I've been...thinking about you, too," you whispered to him, the overwhelming sensation of him railing into you causing you to pause every few words. "Late at night...when I'm all alone. I think about h-how good you feel...inside me. It makes me so hot."

Miguel growled in response, your words obviously having an effect over him. His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, and he actually let out a soft moan of his own. He let go of one of your legs to bring his hand up to the wall to support himself, and you heard the brick next to your head crack as his fingers clawed at the stone.

He pulled away from your lips and brought his mouth down to kiss your neck. His movements were growing more desperate and sloppy, and you knew he was getting closer to finishing. After a second, he raised his head up from your neck to rest against your own.

"Do you trust me?" He whispered in your ear.

What kind of a question was that? He had you pinned to the wall, fucking you mercilessly in another dimension in the middle of a mission. You certainly didn't not trust him.

Still, at his relentless pace, you found it difficult to speak properly, so you nodded your reply. "I want to hear you say it," he grunted. You were breathing hard as you tried formulating words. "I do," you gasped. "I-I do trust you."

That seemed to satisfy Miguel. His hips moved faster and harder into yours, and without further warning, he sank his teeth into the base of your neck. You cried out in alarm as you felt the tips of his fangs pierce your neck. You hadn't expected him to do that, but you couldn't deny that the pain made the pleasure even sweeter.

For Miguel, having his teeth in your skin made him go wild. It was like a primal reaction, and whatever self-control he'd had evaporated. He began pounding into you, using your neck almost like an anchor while he thrust into you over and over again.

Your eyes became unfocused as a knot formed in your stomach from the overwhelming sensation of Miguel's cock and teeth inside of you. "Don't stop," you begged with a gasp. "Don't stop, I'm gonna—"

You couldn't even finish your sentence before another powerful orgasm took over your body. A loud cry emerged from your throat as your thighs tightened around his waist, and your whole body began shaking. You gripped Miguel's back and hair desperately as his movements became erratic.

Just as it was becoming too much for you, Miguel's body tensed, and he let out a long, rare moan against your neck as his hips grew still and he came inside you. He took a couple seconds to recover his breath before he released the grip of his jaw on your neck. You let out a small whimper at the feeling of his teeth being removed from your skin. In response, Miguel ran his tongue over the two new sets of puncture marks you now had.

"Was that alright?" He asked with surprising softness, referring to his bite. You nodded honestly and replied, "I thought it would hurt more than that." He licked over it again as he pulled out of you, earning a quiet sigh from you. "Believe me, it could have," he said in a low voice.

You turned your head to look at him, meeting his eyes with your own, and you couldn't help the faint smile that pulled at your lips. You tilted your face up and kissed him. It wasn't the ravenous kisses from earlier, it was soft and slow, a token of appreciation.

"You're not allowed to come on missions with me anymore," Miguel mumbled against your lips. "Do you understand?"

You chuckled softly at his statement. Truthfully, you'd forgotten you were even on a mission. You opened your eyes to look at him before you whispered, "Yes, sir."

His jaw twitched, and he ran his thumb over your lips in admiration. "We need to get going," he told you after a pause. You looked up at him with a sly smile. "Think you can focus now?" You asked. His eyes flashed up from your lips to your eyes, and a faint trace of a smile formed at his mouth.

"I wouldn't count on it."

[thenotsofantasticlifestory]

AFAB!Reader x Eustass Kid

Word Count: 3.7K

A/N: Finally the smut part back from this post. Pegging Kid, fem!dom, sub!Kid, Overstimulation, Facesitting, if you peg Kid you automatically get a higher bounty than him lol

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was about four drinks in when Kid decided he’d had enough. 

Here he was, sitting amongst the crew in an after-battle party at some poor tavern they’d taken over for the night, and plenty were already deep into their cups. He was sitting next to Killer who was quick to notice Kid’s continuous staring in your direction, a faint blush on his cheeks as he downed another mug of ale. Kid wanted you. More explicitly he wanted you to fuck him the way you had a few nights ago tackling him into submission as he lost himself on your fake cock. Despite far too many people being around, Kid felt the need for it burning deep in his gut. The sound of a mug slamming onto the table caught his attention as he turned to Killer.

“Your staring is getting a bit creepy Kid,” he said. 

Kid scowled, tearing his eyes off you and refilling his mug, “None of your business…”

Killer’s eyes went from you, drinking merrily with another few of the crew members, to Kid, looking like a blushing wet sop of a man and Killer had to know what could’ve brought his captain to this level. 

“What exactly did they do to make you so whipped all of the sudden?”

Kid took another drink, his eyes surveyed around him to make sure he and his friend wouldn’t be overheard as the alcohol was making him honest. Once satisfied no one could eavesdrop he mumbled something out to Killer.

“What?” Killer replied.

“I said-” Kid’s hand ran through his hair, fighting to cover the red that flushed to the tips of his ears, “I let Y/N peg me…”

Killer merely sat back with a sigh, “Oh, is that it?”

Kid snapped up, staring incredulously at his friend trying to decipher the expression behind his mask.

“What do you mean ‘is that it?’” 

Killer shrugged, “Honestly, I’m surprised it took you this long to try it,” he took a sip through his straw facing Kid, “It’s great huh?”

Kid gaped for a moment before he found his voice, “...You mean you-?”

Even through the mask Kid could see the look his friend was giving him, he knew him too well.

“Of course, I mean why not, plus it feels amazing,” he said. 

Kid eyed him as he continued to drink through the straw before Kid took his own drink to his lips, draining the mug and setting it resolutely on the table. He rose and made his way over to you. It didn’t matter that you were mid conversation, once Kid plucked you from where you were sitting and threw you over his shoulder, the others knew better than to interfere.  He stayed mute to your protestations as he carried you outside the bar, setting you back on the ground before him, hands on your shoulders.

“Do you have your stuff?” he asked.

“What? What stuff?”

Kid ran a hand through his hair, “You know…the stuff that you used on me a few nights ago…?” Kid hoped he could make his point without explicitly saying it. He was still too worried about some drunk crew member listening in. Fortunately, you caught on quickly.

“Oh, that stuff,” the grin that stretched your lips already was sending a flush down his neck, “It’s in my room on the ship…why?” you added coyly.

Kid huffed, “Don’t make me say it…”

You leaned into him now, pressing lightly into his chest as a finger trailed down the solid mass of muscle, “Use your words Kid, you have to tell me what you want.”

Kid bit back the whimper that threatened to spill out, biting at his lip, eyes darting for any unknowing listeners.

“I want…you to fuck me…”

“Fuck you where Kid?”

His eyes closed, fighting the words but knowing exactly what you wanted to hear and that you wouldn’t cave until he said it.

“Fuck me…in my ass…”

He knew he had done good when he was rewarded with your lips pressing against his, a hand curled into his red locks as he moved against our mouth for a while, soft smacking sounds outside the rambunctious bar. When you broke apart Kid could already feel himself starting to harden. Your eyes caught an inn across the way and you motioned toward it.

“Go get us a room, I’ll get what we need and meet you there,” you gave him a brief peck before running back toward the ship. 

++++++++++++++

“Fuck are you going to fuck me or what?” 

Kid lay on the bed, completely nude, mechanical arm slouched off to the side while you gave loving attention to his cock, taking your time licking and sucking as your fingers danced along his hard length. 

“Patience Kid,” you nipped delicately at his shaft resulting in a hissed curse, “let me enjoy myself for a bit here.”

Kid’s head fell back onto the mattress with a huff, “You’re being a tease…”

You laughed, sending a long slow lick to the vein on the underside of his shaft, enjoying the way he twitched under the ministration, “so you can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

This clearly struck a nerve as Kid shot you a look, “I can take it just fine! Problem is that you’re not giving it yet!”

You pulled back up to a seated position and Kid’s eyes darted down to the thick cock strapped to your body. It wasn’t even fair to look this hot with a fake cock standing from you and Kid felt himself lick his lips. Something hit him on the chest and he looked down to see the small bottle of lube you’d tossed to him. 

“Alright Kid, you want it so bad you’ll have to show me.”

Kid paused, “What?”

You settled yourself comfortably, a loose hand fisting the silicon cock in a tempting manner, “Prep yourself, your fingers are bigger than mine anyway,” a smile tugged at your lips.

Kid had the decency to blush, fumbling for something to say before you leaned forward, taking the bottle and emptying some of the contents onto his fingers, spreading the slick around the thick digits. 

“You’ve fingered me plenty of times, you’ll figure it out,” even as you started to guide his hand between his own legs, Kid felt any resistance draining away despite the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. Damn you, who knew you were so sneaky? Working him up just enough to the point of no return where you knew he couldn’t say no even if he tried. You pushed one of his fingers against his entrance and Kid inhaled sharply, feeling your hand leave his as you sat back, a dark smile on your face.

“Give me a good show, Eustass.”

Kid huffed, shooting daggers at you with his glare before falling back onto the bed. Fine, you wanted a show? He could play along, just as long as he got what he was so desperately craving in the end. 

The pad of his finger traced his entrance, spreading the slick there as Kid contemplated the feeling. He’d never done this to himself before and using his own fingers had him a bit more hesitant, they were bigger after all. 

“Well?” you prompted.

Kid slipped a finger inside, biting back the little gasp that wanted to leave his lips, he didn’t want you to have the satisfaction just yet if he could help it. The first thing he noticed was how hot and tight he felt on the inside and a shudder ran through him, before pumping the finger experimentally. From this angle he knew if he wanted to get a better feel he’d have to spread his legs wider but feeling your eyes watching his every move had him feeling stubborn and frankly a little bratty. He continued to pump inside himself, the unfamiliar feeling slowly melting into pleasure as he felt his body betray him, legs widening of their own accord and he didn’t miss the hum of approval you gave in response. 

“Add another finger Kid, you’ll need it,” you said.

A breathy curse did escape this time, imagining the lengthy girth that was waiting to stretch him out and he slipped another finger in, wincing just for a moment before resuming that steady pumping. He gave an experimental scissor of his fingers and bit his lip, still not wanting to show you how turned on he was already, but the breath was coming in harder through his nostrils. He pumped in deep, relishing the tight feeling of flesh around his fingers and realized he needed more lube. 

You seemed to anticipate this, taking the bottle from the side and settling between Kid’s legs.

“Let me.”

You squeezed a generous amount onto him and Kid could feel the coolness hit his entrance still stretched around his fingers and shivered. He gave a few more thrusts, collecting the slick and using it to aid in slipping a third finger in he hoped you hadn’t noticed but the grin on your face quickly told him you had and he flushed at his own eagerness. 

“Doing such a good job Kid,” the slick squelching sound of his own fingers was loud to his ears as you drank in the sight, “how does it feel?”

Kid took a shaky inhale, working to keep his voice steady, “Feels good…”

He felt your fingers slowly stroking his hard cock and a moan bubbled out of his throat at the stimulation. 

“But you want more don’t you?” 

Kid wanted so badly to whine but he nodded his head instead, hoping that would be enough to appease you. He didn’t know how much more teasing he could handle and he felt as you removed his hand from inside him, your own fingers tracing along his sensitive inner thighs and he felt goosebumps erupt over his skin.

“What do you want Kid?”

He groaned, “You…”

“Kid,” your voice took a slight edge, pushing him to explain further and Kid felt the heat that rushed his face before he finally choked out.

“I want your cock…”

He heard the slick spread of lube across the phallus and shivered.

“Good boy,” you said, finally lining up with his entrance.

The first push in had him gasping, the fat head of the cock slipping easily inside as he felt that burning stretch that spread heat from the base of his spine. His still slick hand tangled into the sheets as he felt you work your way inside him, every gentle thrust deeper in sent fire through his body. He felt when you bottomed out, hips flush against his as you spread his legs wider to better nudge yourself inside him. This was what he had been missing, this feeling of being so stretched and filled and he swore he could feel the cock all the way up to his throat with how deep you were seated into him.

“Fuck you take it so well Kid,” you breathed out.

Kid gave a hard exhale, hips nudging against your encouraging you to move already and he bit his lip as he felt you pull nearly all the way out. Once you snapped your hips back into his, a groan ripped from his throat. You pulled out again, almost lazily before thrusting back in hard and kept a slow hard pace of fucking into him. Kid could feel the moans that spilled out of his throat with each thrust, eyes closing to lose himself in the pleasure of it. You leaned forward and he felt you take his chin in your hand.

“Eyes on me, Kid,” punctuating this with a hard thrust inside him.

Kid felt himself flush but obeyed, keeping his eyes locked to yours and when the next moan came spilling from his lips he was suddenly all too aware of your intense gaze on him.

“Fuck, harder,” he breathed, trying to turn his head away, the eye contact too much in his vulnerable state but you gripped his jaw hard, forcing him back and Kid felt his eyes crack open of their own accord.

“Good boy,” you said.

You sped up the pace, fucking into him earnestly now and Kid was breathing hard, head falling back and you let him stare up into the ceiling as you gained better purchase to push his legs farther back. He felt his hips strain against the angle but the way the cock was tightly hugged inside him had tears pricking his eyes. You hit just the right angle and Kid’s hand slapped at the sheet.

“Fuck! Right there!” he gasped.

You gave a low breathy chuckle, adjusting your hips before driving forward again and sending stars into Kid’s vision, relishing in the strangled moan he gave.

“Hold your leg back for me Kid.”

With just one arm, he managed to wrap it around his thigh, keeping a leg back, but it was enough you could hold his other leg while still draping yourself forward onto him with your free arm. Kid felt his hips be pushed further back, the cock grinding and pressing against that sweet spot deep inside him while you adjusted yourself. You saw the way he was squirming, hips lightly jutting to press back against you, to pull you in even deeper while you were already flush against him.

“So eager Kid,” you cooed.

He tried to growl but only a breathy whine escapes him, surprised when your free hand suddenly found purchase in his red locks and pulled hard. With his head pulled back, you left harsh little nips against the thick column of his throat, feeling his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your lips found his and he responds eagerly, mouth open and wanting between the heated pants that puff from him.

“Such a good boy,” you pulled back to let him breathe, seeing the way his lipstick was already smearing, “you like being filled and fucked like this?”

Another shot to his prostrate rips a filthy moan from Kid as he manages to breathe out a weak but emphatic, “Yes.”

Kid was blind to the smirk that painted your own lips, too lost in the haze of his own pleasure as your hips pounded into him, relentlessly torturing that bundle of nerves deep inside him and soon enough he could feel the hot coil in the pit of his stomach building quick. He opened his mouth to give some kind of warning but found your tongue tangling with his as you devoured the words. Another hard thrust inside him and the coil snapped, a series of breathy moans bubbling against your lips as he felt himself cum. You paused only for a second, Kid’s sudden release without his cock having even been touched caught you off guard, but you soon snapped back into action, burying your cock deep inside him and letting him ride out the orgasm. Once he collapsed bonelessly into the mattress you stilled inside him, allowing him to briefly catch his breath as you gave a peck to his cheek.

“Holy fuck…” is all Kid can manage out.

Still reeling from the effects of his orgasm, Kid doesn’t notice you settling back, keeping an iron grip on his thighs until you thrust harshly into him again. His head snapped back in a silent gasp, body still oversensitive and before he can think of what to say, you’re fucking into him at a relentless pace.

Moans and sobs spilled freely from him as you pressed him harder into the mattress, hips snapping into his already abused hole. His free hand grips the sheets before quickly moving to clutch at his face, eyes snapping shut as tears prick at the corners.

“Fuck-fuck! W-wait it’s too much…!” he felt his voice crack on the last word, before dissolving back into unintelligible whimpers as you pummel into his prostate. His body felt like it was burning, every nerve was still singed from his last orgasm and the pleasure is nearly to the point of pain from his overloaded senses. Still, he doesn’t want you to stop.

“Come on Kid,” you huffed from the exertion but not once slowing down, a bead of sweat trickling from your brow, “I know you’ve got one more for me.”

Kid managed to pry his fingers away from his eyes, feeling the intense heat on his face and saw his cock was already hard again, slapping against his stomach from the force of each thrust, smearing the mess of cum still on his abs. He’s not sure how much more of this he can take as he feels the beginning coil in the pit of his stomach start to tighten again. Then you wrapped your hand around his cock and started pumping in harsh jerks.

Kid wasn’t sure if he screamed but he can feel his vocal cords fray as sounds spill forth against the onslaught of pleasure. Finally feeling the delicious squeeze as you fist his cock in time with every powerful thrust has him spiraling quicker than he would have imagined. You saw the way his body began to tighten, focusing on the sensitive head of his cock with tight, hard strokes.

“That’s it Kid, now cum for me.”

The sultry pitch of your commanding voice, combined with the harsh treatment of his prostate and cock has him cumming even harder the second time. Thick ropey spurts of semen shot forward, further painting his stomach and chest as Kid gives a strangled sob, hand clutching at his face as he feels his head swim in a delirious lightness. You milked him roughly, teasing wave after wave of spend dribbling down your hand and covering his stomach. Kid was wheezing, taking air in big gulps as you finally feel him soften and release him. You worked the thick phallus gently out of Kid, who keens at the loss, before discarding it off to the side. Kid may have been spent but you weren’t letting him off the hook until you came at least once.

You crawled over his body before virtually sitting on his face.

“You know what to do.”

Kid was still dazed, his eyes hazy, but he complied obediently, hand coming forward to steady your waist as he brought his large tongue forward to delve into your wet folds. Groaning at the excess of slick, Kid doesn’t waste time burying his face into your cunt. Your hand gripped his hair, motioning him deeper into you as you rocked your hips against his face, Kid moaning at the action. The room was loud with lewd squelching sounds as Kid buried his tongue into you, grinding against your pelvis, the bridge of his crooked nose rubbing against your clit. He ate you out like a man starved, hand gripping at your waist with what little energy he has left. You could hear the muffled little moans of pleasure from beneath you as you allow your head to tilt back in bliss.

“Doing so good Kid, just a little more,” you rocked against him, nearly suffocating him but he’s undeterred, pulling your further down on top of him just to taste more of you. You’ve never seen him so ravenous, and as he works his ample tongue inside you, you can feel your orgasm coming up fast.

You cursed, feeling your body tighten as you hit your high, thrusting Kid’s face deeper into your cunt, but he takes it in stride, feeling you clench and drip around him as he works you through your orgasm. Once you rode it out, the tingling in your body starting to fade, you pulled off of Kid with a wet sound before flopping onto the side to take him in.

He looked positively ruined, chest still heaving and covered with his spend while his lipstick was smeared with your own slick that dribbled down his chin. You smiled down at him, Kid’s eyes, still hazy but starting to regain some semblance of focus, found yours and a grin pulled at his lips. You gave a kiss to his sweaty forehead before rising to find a towel to clean him off with.

+++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning, as they checked out Kid couldn’t help but notice the way the frenzied innkeeper kept darting glances at him, eyes wide. Maybe she recognized him from the wanted posters? The thought of it made him smirk with pride.

“Was everything- uhm- satisfactory?” The innkeeper asked. 

“Yes, very much so,” you replied, unphased by the curious glances the woman kept shooting towards Kid. 

The woman chewed her lip before speaking again, “I-I only ask because…well…some of the staff were worried something might have happened…”

That caught both of your attentions as the two of you fix her with a questioning look.

“Well, your- um…” she motioned a hand toward Kid indicating him, “he was, well, quite loud…the groaning and screams, we were just worried maybe he was hurt or worse…”

Your eyes widened and it took everything you had to bite back the smirk that wanted to split your face, especially on seeing the way Kid flushed down to his neck in a horrified stupor. Before you could respond, Kid slapped some money, more than enough to cover the cost of the night but he doesn’t seem to notice, quickly on the table before grasping you by the shoulders and hurrying you both out the door. Once in the street, Kid takes a steadying breath before he turned toward the docks.

“Let’s get back to the ship,” he started marching off but even from behind you can see his ears burning. You caught up quickly to him, a shit eating grin on your face as you stared expectantly into his flushed face. Kid refused to meet your eyes, lips pouting as he keeps his gaze forward but he can feel the satisfaction coming off you in waves.

“Next time I’ll just have to gag you, won’t I?” you said.

Kid nearly tripped over, shooting a scowl as you laugh at him good naturedly, but he has to admit, the idea of it appeals to him.

[golden-afternoon]

Okay. This one isn't even smut but somehow I'm more nervous to post this than the other ones I have. This is a surprise gift for someone hehe, they'll know it's for them when they see it. (p.s. I'm so sorry Diluc lovers, I am not confident in writing him. Hope it's decent ish skdjdksjd)

Warnings - gn!reader, no editing just straight to paper but no real warnings here! It's nothing but fluffy stuff!

How long had it been since he had woken to the sound of birdsong instead of laying his head down to rest to it?

Opening his eyes slowly, he almost immediately had to close them again to brace against the soft morning light streaming through the open curtains of his window. He raised his arm on instinct, pressing his forearm against his eyes to shield him from the brightness with a quiet sigh. Though, his muscles tensed almost immediately as a noise came from beside him, nearly echoing the noise he had just made.

He whipped his head to his left, his eyes suddenly wide and alert as the adrenaline served to wake him faster than any cup of coffee could ever dream to. But the moment his eyes settled on your sleeping form beside him, he could feel every ounce of tension in him leave as quickly as it came.

Diluc remained still, watching as you took every breath. In. Out. In. Out. Like the tides the draw in and recede from the shore. It was a calming sight, a reassuring one. The dawn’s warm light had reached your face, drawing muted shapes in the shadows of your features, highlighting your natural softness in a way he can’t say he’s certain he’s seen before. With slow, careful movements, he shifted to lie on his side, his hand now free to reach out to you. Gently, he brushed his calloused fingers across your forehead to push the loose bits of hair there from your face, allowing him a better look at your sleeping visage. An unnamed ache stirred deep in his chest as he found the words to describe what you looked like in that moment— at peace.

He wasn’t used to this yet. Having you so close, coming to know the appeal of a slow morning… It was all still new. He wasn’t sure if he ever would get used to it; part of him wasn’t sure if he should get used to it. After all, there was so much darkness still in this world, so many other things he needed to be on top of and worry over. And yet… Here in his bed that he has now come to share with you, he can’t help but want to be a little selfish.

Moving closer, he wrapped his arm around you, gently shifting your head so your cheek was resting on his other arm, curled close to his chest. He paused as you stirred, but was pleased to see that you seemed a bit too drowsy to mind. Without a word, he pressed a small kiss to the top of your head, letting his fingers idly brush through your hair. He supposed it would be alright to indulge himself, just this once.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I might be wrong, but it's implied that dragons are an extinct species in the SDV universe. So like, what if the Farmer found a petrified dragon egg, or even a whole clutch, and somehow managed to hatch it/them Game of Thrones style? They've done some insane stuff both in canon, and in SVE and RSV so it's not hard to imagine they'd do the truly impossible like reviving not only an extinct species, but a magic species at that. Rambling aside, onto the question: how would the SVE mages (including Morgan) and adventurer's, and Mr. Aguar from RSV react to the farmer's feat of bringing dragons back to life?

(P.s, maybe add Mr. Qi as well bc I imagine he'd be VERY interested in this event)

You're 100% right

And it's interesting: I've long wondered why there was no mention of dragons anywhere in the notes or in the library, when there are skeletons and teeth of these very same dragons lying around in the Calico Desert and Ginger Island? And can serpents be considered descendants of these dragons?

Lance's mention of his teacher with the title "Dragon Master" also gives us the right to believe for the existence of dragons in the SDV world (although I used to think it was just such a cool title for his teacher. Or a reference to Lance's Pokémon trainer in general).

But enough rambling! Thanks for your ask and enjoy some short stories ☺️🫰

Warning: this post is long...

_________________________________________

Marlon & Gil:

Marlon sipped his tea quietly in his Guildhall on a cold winter morning, to the crackle of a blazing fireplace and the soft snores of his friend, Gil. The one-eyed adventurer was enjoying a rare moment in his life - a quiet morning, with no worries about stocking up on provisions and elixirs, no worry about monsters...

But apparently the Yoba itself decided that Marlon had had enough of the peaceful time and presented him with a Farmer riding a dragon. The flying reptile with purple scales, beautiful as amethysts, along with its rider managed to smash through the old Adventurer's Guild roof, but thankfully no one was hurt.

If Marlon had only known Farmer for a few months, he would have been in mute shock at what he had seen. Now that the youth was a full member of the Guild for the second year, Marlon only sighed tiredly and went to the undestroyed room to get his tools. Dragons? Yes, he was interested in that. But questions later, first they need to fix the hole in the roof because it's cold winter outside, you know.

The Farmer will help, of course, as they are the direct cause of the collapsed ceiling. And the Gil will join in when he stops hiding his chuckle behind his snoring. He's been awake for a while now, and he can hardly contain his laughter (and his pride in Farmer) while pretending to be asleep.

_________________________________________

Isaac:

If the quote "I don't get paid enough for this shit" were a person, Isaac would be the complete personification of that phrase.

Anyone would be shocked, amazed and delighted by the most beautiful and noble creatures that had extinct so long ago that many people no longer believed they existed and had come to regard them as a fairy tale and a legend. Anyone, but not Isaac. Because the moment the master of the dangerous reptiles appeared before Isaac's eyes - he wanted to bang his head against the wall.

Let no one dare tell him that 'Farmer is special' or 'Farmer knows what to do'. No, they don't know what they're doing! A bloody immature upstart who coddles a dangerous dragons like a puppies! That even now the curious reptiles are slowly moving towards Isaac to sniff and study him, a man they don't know. And how does HE know what the hell is going on in their heads?! Maybe they see him as just another snack, for Yoba's sake!

He won't be tempted to trade his own safety and the safety of other people for prickly curiosity. He will not, like the others, reach for the huge toothy maw, nor is he going to scratch the head of the purring (dragons can purr?) creature. Isaac goes to report the Farmer and the dragons to the Order of Pythagoras, and he doesn't care that he'll be disliked by many for such an act. It will take a long time before Isaac finally trusts the Farmer and their pets, but that will be a while yet. For now, the scarred adventurer will do what he thinks is right.

_________________________________________

Lance:

After a long training in swordsmanship and magic spells, young Lance always waited with joy for his teacher to call him for a short break. After all, it was during the break that they would both go to the tavern, eating dinner, where his teacher would praise him for his success in the last training session, and most importantly, tell him another fascinating legend about monsters and creature. Even though his mentor was a "Dragon Master", they haven't met any dragons themself. Their great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, however, had seen the beautiful flying reptile once with his own eyes.

Oh, how Lance wanted to be the man who would see a dragon, how he wanted to believe they still existed!

It was just a childhood dream that Lance had long since grown out of. But life had given him an unexpected surprise.....

He slowly touched the dragon's snout, gently running his fingers over the warm scarlet scales. Taking his time, careful not to bring his fingers too close to the razor-sharp fangs. Lance almost couldn't tear his gaze away from the big amber eyes that watched him intently. Slowly turning his head towards the Farmer, the pink-haired adventurer saw a sign of approval that he could continue. Giving his friend a grateful nod, Lance turned his gaze back to the dragon. Who would have thought that gallant adventurer would have the opportunity not only to see this marvellous creature, but also to learn from Farmer how miraculously they were able to do the impossible.

It'll go down in Lance's memoirs for sure.

_________________________________________

Jadu:

Due to insomnia, hard work with manuscripts and scrolls, and an unhealthy obsession with coffee, Jadu looked like the walking dead these days. Add to that the fact that the young wizard was as stubborn as an ass: no matter how much Lance tried to gently help his friend, no matter how much Isaac tried to force him into bed, and no matter how hard the others tried - to no avail. Jadu's goal was to finish the job - and he'd done it, and sleep was of secondary importance to him.

Naturally, this disregard for his sleep regime was not without consequences, and so Jadu, about to teleport back from the Stardew Valley to the Castle Village, didn't even realise how the world swam before his eyes and his body went limp. But before poor wizard lost consciousness, he felt that someone had grabbed him and would not let him fall. Half an hour later, Jadu realised that he was not lying on the cold ground, but in the warm embrace of someone... with scales? And wings? And claws on its paws?

Is he still asleep?

But as it turned out, he emerged from the realm of reverie and listened half-asleep to Farmer's restless speech. The sensation of inhuman skin and the word "dragon" made Jadu jump up as if scalded by boiling water and quickly get to his feet.

A dragon?! A real one?! Where from and how? Farmer, please explain! You raised it? Where? And what kind of dragon?! He'd studied the legends, but he'd never thought he'd meet a large reptile himself. And what do they eat, and how do they conjure? He need to know? Sleep? What sleep, he doesn't need that right now!

It took a lot of effort for the farmer to at least get Jadu back to a sitting position. It is not clear whether the noble reptile understood their words, but the creature's gaze was shrewd and full of wisdom. And amusement from this funny scene.

_________________________________________

Morgan:

Morgan follows the familiar hidden path again, behind a flowering tree with a swing, where there is a hole in the farm's fence. Trying not to make any loud noise, Magnus' young apprentice walks through the tall grass, holding back a playful chuckle.

Even though the Farmer had long ago told them that they would always be welcome at the farm and would be treated to ripe fruit from the greenhouse, Morgan still chose to visit in this way, adding intrigue and fun to their dull routine of studying the history of the Republic and the bestiary.

The young talent once again wanted to go into the chicken coop, where there was a void chicken that the Farmer had allowed them to feed and even give her name (Morgan had named her Coal). But when Morgan looked into the coop, instead of the usual joyful clucking, they felt a smoky breath coming from a toothy mouth that definitely did not belong to a hen. In the dark wooden room, Morgan couldn't see who it was, so all they could do was run out of the coop screaming in terror and crying.

Luckily, the Farmer, who had arrived quickly, had time to calm the child and explain that a dragon lived here for the time being.

Morgan at the mention of the mythical creature completely forgot about everything in the world. A moment later, the Farmer was bombarded with questions and requests to see dragon again. The farmer allowed (taking Morgan's word that they would keep it a secret). Wow, dragons are even cooler that void chicken! Sorry, Coal...

_________________________________________

Alesia:

Crazy... This was just a crazy idea. Maybe Alesia still had the option to refuse and get off the green dragon's back? Before she could say anything, however, Farmer gave the takeoff command to his winged friend, and they and Alesia, riding the dragon, began to separate from the ground higher and higher. The sniper was out of breath, and her mind was unable to comprehend what was happening. A farmer, a dragon - a living dragon! - and flying on top of a large reptile. How had all this happened for literally half an hour?

Alesia never thought she would agree to ride a dragon without a second thought. She felt a little ashamed, for she had been so quick to give in to temptation and curiosity, forgetting all about safety. But that view... Definitely worth it.

Finally when they landed and Alesia felt the solid ground beneath her feet, she had to temper her excitement and have a serious talk with Farmer. About the dragon, mages and adventurers should know. No, no arguments. It is better to let the senior adventures be warned, for it could happen that seeing Farmer on a dragon could mistake them for an enemy or potential threat. This is for the safety of both the humans and the Farmer with the reptile. The girl sees that this beautiful creature is significantly intelligent and wishes no harm to anyone. Therefore, she will feel safer if Farmer, as a responsible adult, makes the right decision.

But until they notified the Order and the others, Alesia would be interested to hear how the Farmer was able to not only raise the dragon themself, but also hide their existence from the others for so long. And, if the Farmer and the dragon itself are okay with it, to repeat another flight. Because that's was fun.

_________________________________________

Magnus Rasmodius:

The Farmer couldn't have been happier when, after months of caring for the dragon eggs, they saw the first crack of the shell and a cute little scaly face emerge. One little flying lizard was followed by two more, and now the trio are chirping and flying merrily around their parent, already begging for attention and food.

What Farmer didn't know was that as the dragonlings hatched, a strong magical flow would come out of the eggs, which Magnus Rasmodius definitely felt.

Shocked at the unknown strong source of magic, the purple-haired wizard dropped everything he was doing and teleported to the Farmer's house. The magic that had broken through his barrier? But the barrier was still intact! Then what? An anomaly? A strong corrupting spirit? Ancient magic? And his apprentice is right at the epicentre! But while Magnus was filling his head with horrific scenes and preparing to recite the spell, teleporting straight into the living room of the Farmer's house, all his battle fervour deflated. And before Magnus's gaze was an unharmed Farmer, with three little dragons sitting on top of them, eating peach slices with gusto.

On the one hand, Magnus has an irresistible urge to smack himself on the forehead for having conjured up such scary scenes, when as an experienced magician he should always keep his composure. On the other hand, he really wants to scold the Farmer for another wild thing. His gut tells him that he has a very long report to write to the Ministry of Magic. He also needs a bottle of strong wine to get drunk and pass out after all this madness. Poor wizard is too tired to marvel at the very fact that dragons have been reborn. Maybe later...

_________________________________________

Camilla:

My oh my... And how come the Farmer didn't tell her, Camilla, about this wonderful pet that breathes fire and can fly in the sky? She's their best friend, isn't she? And friends always share secrets with each other.... How did the Farmer manage to raise such a marvellous beauty? Really? Hmm, interesting.

Some might rightly resent that the head witch of Castle Village treats a dangerous mythical creature like a cute poodle. Even the dragon owner themself might be surprised that she doesn't show the reaction that people usually have at the sight of a big and scary dragon.

But even it look like Camilla in her favourite way is not serious about everything, it is not true at all. Quite the opposite, she will always put her duty to protect the people of the Village above all else. But she is confident in her abilities, so just in case the Farmer's scaly friend wants to make a little mischief in her domain, she will make sure that the creature never wants to appear on the Continent of Galdora ever again. But enough of that!

Camilla will become a more frequent visitor to the Stardew Valley, because the witch certainly won't miss the opportunity to study such an interesting specimen. Camilla also has some of the rarest pets, and the witch would like to get a dragon as well. Ah, what a cutie!

_________________________________________

Dr. Aguar:

For a fortnight now, Aguar couldn't figure out why his body was tingling with magic like an annoying itch. For a fortnight he had been walking around irritated, unable to understand the source of this itch that was driving him crazy and preventing him from working in peace. It was only at the bus stop that Aguar realised that the closer he got to the farm, the stronger the tingling became. There's clearly something the strange Farmer is doing here.... Magnus had already mentioned that the youth had a magical gift, just like Aguar himself. But the former mage knows nothing much about the Farmer: not their motives, nothing. So Aguar wanted to find out what the Farmer does, and whether it has anything to do with this unbearable itch.

Before Dr. Aguar could even reach the porch of the Farmer's house, something blue flew out of the door at full speed, but he couldn't see it because of its speed. The Farmer ran out after it, calling to someone and waving their arms.

The thing stopped abruptly in mid-air and returned to the Farmer, wrapping their body around Farmer's right hand and growling merrily. The Farmer, barely out of breath, held their breath as they realised they had guests and that they could see the dragon. Aguar, on the other hand, crossed his arms and waited patiently for the Farmer to start the conversation themself.

So that's what it was...

A dragon, yes? And a dragon of the water element, Aguar's own element. Indeed, this little reptile was too young to control magic on its own. And the incessant flow of the same element's magic influenced the flow of the scientist's magic. Very interesting. That's what really caught Aguar's attention. He's really going to want to study the dragon. Oh, spirits, Farmer, there's no need to look at him as a bloodthirsty monster! He won't harm this little one.

_________________________________________

Mr. Qi:

"Congratulations to you, Farmer. Once again you managed to exceed my expectations when your tending to the eggs I left behind succeeded. I didn't doubt the success one bit, of course not. I hope you enjoy your new pets, they are truly wonderful. Also, I'll put it on a note, they are fruit-eaters, so treat your dragons to fresh fruit often. Especially melon, these dragons love it. I already know that, hehe. Good luck to you, child. I'll keep watching your progress. And always remember, the key to success is within you."

The Farmer would probably have been surprised by a letter from Mr. Qi..... But alas, the little flying reptiles accidentally burned the paper before the Farmer could open anything.

[hanibalistic]

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 12.0k+

warning | car crash / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | bye-bye baby, i love you baby. more than that body pillow drabble at least.​

parts | one, two, three

After the doctor bandaged your hands and did some checkup on you to make sure you had sustained no more damage from the fall, you were glad to hear that they would take up the responsibility to call Minho’s parents instead.

You could not find the energy to talk to anyone about anything—perhaps you would give Yuna an earful about what happened, but she was gone by the time you got picked up by others around the scene. Tears kept falling down your face when you were getting treated, and the doctor in charge stopped asking you if she was hurting you anymore. It was obvious that your concern lay on someone else.

How did this happen? You always thought you would be so agile and smart during emergencies. The cold water of truth once again splashed down on you, reminding you that just because you think you’d be cool doesn’t mean you would be when your thoughts turn into reality. This isn’t the law of attraction, you can’t manifest the car away and you sure as well can’t manifest peace.

You sighed, your lashes wet and your under-eye pained from all the rubbing. It had to happen this way, didn’t it? The car crash was, unfortunately, essential in your drama. If it wasn’t the kidnapping, it if wasn’t the psychotic mother, if it wasn’t even the love triangle, then it would be the goddamn car crash. And as usual, it was infuriating and you wished it hadn’t happened.

It wasn’t that you minded the car crash (you would like to not see it as a plot device so often, though). You just hoped it hadn’t been Minho who got hit because he cared enough to save you from it. And now you were left here, sitting in the hospital lobby and being haunted by all the gut-wrenching components of a drama car crash.

Broken hands, broken legs, brain dead, blindness, mute, deaf, paralyzed, coma, a sudden discovery of cancer, a sudden discovery of related bloodlines, a sudden discovery of a terminal illness. You squealed under your breath as you went down the list, approaching the most common trait of them all—amnesia.

Sure, dramas usually have this rule where all you needed to endure was one to two months of hardships where Minho would revert to hating your guts, and then he would either fall in love with you again or you would give him the magical kiss of memory revival and he would suddenly remember your past together.

But those are often so unpredictable! You have watched hundreds of dramas that spin down several different lanes, and all of them have left you heartbroken one way or another. And by now you have learned how much different it would be for you to have to experience such events by yourself! If you could cry so hard because of what those pixelated people are going through, how would you begin to cope with experiencing it yourself?

A sob forced itself up to your throat, your chest sustained the pain of holding it in for too long it felt like you swallowed too many things at once, it felt like you were suffocating. You were afraid. So far, you have skated through every event with a very humorous coping mechanism, one that never does any long-term help. But this was different, this could last forever.

No, this wasn’t supposed to be the forever you experience. You two have just begun, you two were just starting to love each other loudly and happily. You haven’t had enough yet, you wanted more time! The gate to Heaven shouldn’t be allowed to close itself at people’s faces!

“Hello? Excuse me?”

You looked up at the doctor standing in front of you and immediately stood up, wiping your eyes on cue even though you had passed the point of crying and ceasing the chaos in your head. “Yes! How–how is Minho?”

“Good. He only got a few fractured ribs, a bad concussion, and a badly scraped forehead. He didn’t suffer any damage to his internal organs and there are no signs of internal bleeding,” the doctor explained. “He just needs to rest for now, but I estimate that he will wake up sooner than expected. You can wait in his room if you want to.”

You heard everything she said crystal clear. You even went so far as to repeat it in your head. Fractured ribs and concussion, ouchie but at least there wasn’t any internal damage that always sounded so life-threatening. This should be great news, but why did it sound so suspicious to you?

“Really? You are sure, doctor?” you asked, “He didn’t like…lost his eyesight or paralyzed or… I don’t know, cancer? Amnesia?”

“This is a car crash, I don’t think it will cause him cancer,” she replied calmly. If she was annoyed at your stupid questions, she was trained well not to show it on her face. “And no, we did all the scans. There is nothing else, I assure you.”

“But I swear I saw blood back then, what does that mean?”

“He scraped his forehead when he fell. We did sutures on the wound, which is going to leave him a scar but we can try to minimize it as best as we can,” she said.

Huh, bummer. Maybe I should order another car crash.

Yeah, now wasn’t the time. My apologies.

You thanked the doctor quickly then, wanting to do nothing more than to see him. But before you could leave, she held you back and shifted through her pocket for something she intended to give you.

"The paramedic stopped me and told me to give this back to Mr.Lee when you guys went in, but I assume it is yours?” she said as she pulled out a dark blue velvet box and handed it to you.

It was a ring box, with your ring stored securely in it. You felt a rush of tears piling at your eyes again but you held them down and nodded. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s still for me.”

“Pretty sure it will. He wouldn’t buy you a ring if he didn’t care enough to jump in front of a car for you.” She shrugged. “His room is right around the corner, you can ask the nurses around.”

You bid her goodbye then, watching her rush away as her pager beeped. Then you returned your attention to the ring. You took it out of the box and slipped it on, admiring the way it still fits perfectly around your finger. You became his and you would always be from now on; wearing the ring is an act of taking a physical vow. Clasping the box shut, you put it in your pocket carefully before heading to where the doctor pointed you.

This was painstakingly familiar, Minho thought as he opened his eyes once again to welcome the flood of nausea and ugly ceiling lights. He hasn’t been in the hospital for a long time but he could tell he was in one from the saturated smell of alcohol and the overall sickly atmosphere. Shutting his eyes immediately after waking up, he groaned hoarsely as he recalled what events led up to this moment and realized he would have to be bedridden once more.

What a shame, you would have to take care of him again—hey, hold on a second! Where were you?

Minho snapped his eyes open, panic overwhelming the revolting weight laid atop of his body and brain. He did push you out of the way, right? He remembered he did, but he couldn’t be sure if you both were lucky enough to not have a second careless driver grace the crossroad. Or what if you bumped your head too hard on the ground and got a bad concussion? Or what if he didn’t push you far away enough for the car not to hit you?

He turned his head over to the door, wanting to call for a nurse and ask them millions of unprepared questions, but he stopped in his tracks abruptly when his gaze shivered downwards and he found you sleeping with your head on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t even registered the feeling of his hand being held by yours, the pulse oximeter and the IV on his left arm had taken away most of his sense of touch.

Calming down, Minho relaxed against the pillows and exhaled in relief. He would much rather have you here and sleeping in an uncomfortable position than laying on a bed with a heart monitor beeping next to your bed. Lowering his head so he could look at you, he softened at the way your cheek was squeezed against your forearm and the fading redness visible under your once tearful eyes. Oh, how he longed to reach out and touch you right now, the desire was immeasurable.

His mellow eyes trailed over to your hand, the one laying on the side of his legs, and he frowned slightly at the heavy white gauze wrapped around your lower palm. Getting a scrape when he pushed you away like that is likely inevitable; it got the job done, thankfully, he hoped it didn’t hurt you too much. He was promoted to move his hand when he saw yours, the one you had your own pinned down on the bed softly, and it was then when he felt the roughness of the gauze rubbing against his skin as well.

With a grimace, he looked over to where your hands were stacked on top of each other, and he held his breath when he finally noticed the shining diamond sitting prettily on your finger.

You put the ring back on.

The box must have flown out of his pocket when he got hit. He had been taking it with him everywhere recently just in case the perfect timing to give it back to you turns out to be a place where he couldn’t have access to it immediately. Besides, holding the box in his hand had always reminded him of you, and he liked being reminded of you from time to time throughout the day.

It made him feel less jittery, less annoyed at the general things, and it got him excited to return home at the end of the day.

Minho couldn’t think about anything else at the moment; all that flooded his mind was how much more fulfilling it was to see the ring on your finger rather than in the box, how things should have been this way all along, and what it all meant now that you’ve worn it back.

Forgiveness for his aloofness in the past, a firm acceptance of this marriage, and that he has become someone who can be loved by you.

His shaky eyes were filled with droplets, creating a glassy sight in his already glittery eyes. Feeling you stir on your spot, he slowly moved his head up so he could watch you wake from your slumber. Your grogginess went away as soon as you met eyes with him, and instead of an excited squeal or a surprised gasp, the only thing that glossed over you was an immense relief.

Looking at you, Minho breathed out a quiet laugh, one that even you couldn’t hear. He felt your hand around him still, but your grip more secure now. In an attempt to chase the tears away from your eyes, he joked, “Stop frowning. Your face is gonna get stuck.”

“I’m glad you still remember that,” you laughed, lightly shoving his leg as your voice echoed the room. He gave you a knowing hum as if telling you it would be impossible for him to ever forget the unfunny jokes you liked to tell around the house so much, they were practically engraved in his mind.

Sitting up straighter now, your entire demeanor became gentler. Your senses less alert, your mouth quirked into a permanent smirk, and your fluffy gaze paying a constant focus on Minho. 

“You haven’t forgotten me, have you?” you asked slowly, propping yourself up on your intertwined hands and smiling brightly up at him.

“No,” he replied.

“Who am I?”

“You are [Name]. You have bad humor, you forced pizza down my throat once, and you made me like soap opera,” he said, finding his voice back as more words gradually left his lips. And then he paused for a moment, a dramatic moment where he eyed you lovingly, watching as your brows raised in anticipation. “And I think I might be your husband.”

A joyous sob came in the form of giggle and Minho whined at the strands of tears that danced down your cheeks. He reached out to you, wanting to wipe your tears away for you, but you stopped him and told him not to move. Instead, you got up from the chair and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so you two could be closer at face level.

You slipped your arm under this head and the other reached to cup his jaw. You kissed his forehead, once and twice, then you pulled away just enough for you to look at him fully. Ah, you were so filled to the brim with affection for him; it was so new to you but so real the same time that you were not afraid of diving headfirst into it.

“I think you are my husband,” you whispered with a small nod.

He smiled. “Thank you for having me again.”

You gave him a smile before leaning down to kiss him again. This time you didn’t stop at his forehead. Your soft lips trailed down his eyes, his nose, his cupid’s bow, and before you could kiss him on the lips as you had always wished, you pulled away with a puff of nervous breath. You stared into his eyes, feeling the same longing in the way his hand found your wrist and he held onto you.

What are you waiting for? For permission? For him to get better? Go on, kiss him.

You two will be fine, you won’t hurt each other.

Pressing your lips against his tentatively, you felt a rush of adrenaline racing around your lungs. It made you feel hypersensitive, like a supernatural who could hear and see and feel beyond the human spectrum—the forced nudge of your noses, the beating in your ears, the softness of his lips, your quickened breathes, his soft locks flowing between your fingers, his grip on your wrists tightening to keep you with him.

It was all so overwhelming, the intimacy and the desperation. The emotions came in tiny waves, similar to the way the ocean feels when you stepped your feet on the shore. It drowns you out, it lets you breathe, it drowns you out again. You kiss, you breathe, and you kiss him again. No matter how many times the cycle continues, no matter how many times the seawater brushes past your skin, you get surprised by it and you keep yearning for more.

Your heart was hanging by a thread, any minute now it would leave your chest and land itself straight into Minho’s palms.

Hesitantly pulling away, you kept your mouths close enough for him to still feel you against his lips. He leaned in a little, breathing out a whine that made you realize your heart was already in his hands long ago. Swallowing down a breath, you whispered, “Do you remember, that I love you?”

He nodded, his lashes fluttering as he glanced down at your lips again and back up at your eyes, “I will now.”

Minho’s heart was yours too, long ago, and you’ve learned that.

You jolted awake in the middle of the night. Heavy breaths left your lips as you sat up against the arm of the couch. Your heart was beating quickly like you had just run a mile around the track field.

It was nothing like the way you used to be yanked out of sleep. It wasn’t like your head hitting against your desk in a boring lecture, or when you brutally died in a bad dream. This one was different. You were not falling asleep and you weren’t dreaming. It was different in a way that all you saw during your ‘consciousness’ was blackness, paired with a familiar voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Mom?” you whispered as you quickly scanned your surroundings, looking for the sight of your mother.

But you were still in the hospital room. You were sitting on the couch located at the corner of the room, with your phone and leftover takeaway food resting on top of the small table before you. The moon has gone up and the sky has turned darker than night, you glanced over and found Minho sleeping on the bed as he should.

You were back in where you were supposed to be, but your mother’s voice felt genuinely real during your supposed dream. Sitting up straighter and putting your feet down on the ground, you ran your hands through your hair to force yourself into concentration. Why did you jolt awake at your mother’s voice? There should be no reason for you to find her a threat unless you felt like you were being pulled out of this world.

Like you were falling, like you were falling out of this place, like you were leaving this world and back to reality.

“Oh god,” you gasped as you snapped your head up, your eyes wide.

Great, you were finally piecing the puzzle together, [Name]. I’m glad. 

You have exhausted your one near-death experience when you almost got hit by a car yesterday. If Minho hadn’t pushed you to the side and you got hit then things would have been different; you’d be hit by the car, got sent to a hospital to get fixed, and nothing would have happened. Alas, Minho did push you out of the way, and now you have reached the limit, which was only one. If you remember clearly, the way you arrived to this world was by waking, so when you return home, you would find yourself waking up as well. 

Except this time, you would be alone, and Minho never existed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated under your breath, biting your nails in an attempt to ease out the spiraling anxiety permanent in your head. It was all hitting you too quickly—the near-death theory, the memories you have of your real life, or the lack thereof, feeling like you were being pulled out of your own body, going back to reality, leaving Minho here.

I reckon this would be better for you, actually. The anxiety keeps you awake, and the pacing around keeps you active and forces your eyes open. It would be sooner or later, though, when you find yourself dozing off due to the inability to stay awake any longer. That’s when things get bad for you because as soon as you fall asleep, you will wake up in a whole different place. A familiar place, but different, nonetheless. 

Oh, but how could this be? You have just worn the ring, you two have just kissed for the first time. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being separated from Minho and you didn’t want to leave him yet! You never want to leave him ever! There was still so much for you two to do! You needed more time. You both needed more time!

“[Name]?”

“Huh–oh, hey, Minho.” You moved over to him with a smile. “Did I wake you?”

He could see the panic in your eyes and he frowned. “Are you okay? You look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep–”

“Oh, I–” Your bottom lips quivered.

How long would you be able to hide it before he finds out? How long could you stay awake and act normal for? How would you be able to explain why you always look so exhausted? Minho should know the truth, he deserved to know that you have been hiding something important from him the whole time. Besides, it would be such a shame if you leave him unprepared for your departure. He’s the one who has to remember, after all. 

“I’m not leaving!”

Oh, yell at me, why don’t you?

“Hey,” Minho grabbed a hold of your hand, his brows furrowed up at you, “what is going on?”

You stayed still to pull yourself together for a few seconds, breathing slowly, and then you looked back at him. “I have something to tell you.”

He could sense the solemnity in your voice and it terrified him. You had shown him a large range of your emotions before, from playful to angry to loving, but he has never seen you look so helpless. Tugging at your hand, he kissed your knuckles softly and nodded. “What is it?”

And you told him everything, struggling to make your story coherent despite only having the absolute truth escaping your lips. You told him from the very moment when you found yourself waking up next to him, and then when you were still figuring out what to do with ‘your’ past broken relationship, to adapting quickly and blending into this world. Everything up until this point, when you were so close to forgetting where you came from only to have reality force itself back into your head again.

It was taking Minho a long time to comprehend all the information thrown at him. When it seemed like he was finally done, he moved his eyes over to you and he tilted his head with a sigh. “That is a very deliberate joke.”

Right, you should have anticipated a reaction like that. It would be too easy if he brought it immediately. You pulled a face. “It’s not a joke, Minho.”

“Oh, so you are trying to tell me you aren’t from this universe and you aren’t even who you are before you came here?” he said, confusion evident on his tired face and his voice rising as he went on. “You are basically suggesting parallel universes exist?”

“No–I mean, yeah? It could be true?” You shrugged, and then you shook your head. “The point is–I can feel myself leaving this place and I am pretty sure as soon as I fall asleep, my time will be up. I just felt like I should tell you because you deserve to know.”

Despite how serious you sounded throughout your entire explanation, he just couldn’t bring himself to take you seriously. It was too absurd, the whole concept of waking up in another place. Sure, you did suddenly change overnight and you did feel much different than you did before, and there had been certain very subtle hints that could back your point up, but it was not enough for Minho to believe in what you just told him.

“You should go to sleep, [Name]. You’ve been really tired,” he said again, trying to persuade you into going back to bed.

Disappointment flashed before your eyes. Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you looked away, unsure what else you could do to convince him. The only thing you were sure about was that you absolutely could not fall asleep, no matter how tired you were. You planned to hang on for as long as you could, and hopefully, Minho would come around and believe you by then.

“I am just gonna go take a walk and come back,” you said, smiling faintly. “You should go back to sleep though.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “You can sleep with me on the bed if you want. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You know I can’t,“ you said. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, you moved away from the bed slowly. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up with breakfast tomorrow morning.”

You closed the door, leaving him alone in the darkroom. Minho pouted, he was thinking too much to be able to just fall asleep now. The fact that he couldn’t just sleep sort of gave him a sense that he was leaning towards believing it and he was just in the stage of denial. If he really thought it was a joke then he should have no problem brushing it off, right?

He leaned back against the pillow, his fingers grasping at the air and his head filled.

Would you really leave? Just like that? More importantly, would he be able to tell if you left?

"Did you sleep?”

“They did not,” Changbin replied casually as he slammed a plastic bag on top of the table. Leaning down and proceeding to take out the takeaway food, he handed you a small box of food and looked up at Minho again. “They were up the whole night.”

“Did you seriously stay up the whole night?” Minho asked, brows furrowed at the unexpected visit by Changbin. He wanted to ask why he decided to tag along with you, but he figured it was much more important to know what happened with you last night.

“I did,” you sighed, shoving the chicken into your mouth and moaning at its delicious taste.

After realizing it would be almost impossible for you to stay awake on your own, which was such bullshit because you swore you used to have the ability to pull all-nighters like it was nothing, you ended up calling your last resort—Seo Changbin. Feeling bad that you had to wake him up in the middle of the night, you gave him the same explanation you gave Minho, and like your husband, he was extremely reluctant to accept it.

But you weren’t sleeping at all. And while Changbin had the suspicion that you were just taking this 'joke’ a little too far, he decided to humor you for the night and stayed up with you. And you spent the night over at his home, doing anything and everything to keep yourselves from falling asleep.

“Didn’t they tell you about the story?” Changbin asked, popping open a can of soda and looking at Minho as he drank. “I still don’t believe it but they were so hell-bent on not sleeping, I might just let them have it.”

“What–Changbin, I thought you believed me!” you whined, punching his behind and shoving him to the side.

“If I come over and tell you I’m not actually me and I came from another dimension, would you have believed me?” Changbin retorted, rubbing the spilled drink off his chin.

“I don’t have to because first of all, I met you for the first time at the shopping mall and I know nothing about you,” you pointed out. “Second of all, I am going through it right now. I am telling you, if I fall asleep, you will never see me again.”

“You don’t have proof that you aren’t you, [Name],” Minho chimed in, sighing in defeat as he slumped back against the bed.

Changbin pointed at you with wide eyes then, nodding in agreement. Sitting up from the couch, you turned your head to find Minho grimacing at you, and you heave a sigh. Proof. Where the hell would you find the proof to explain that you are who you are? Identity isn’t a tangible thing, no amount of paperwork can shape it for you.

“Look, I am telling the truth, alright? Or at least I am saying what I know,” you said as you grabbed a box and headed over to the bed. You handed the food to Minho, who refrained from throwing a mini tantrum the way he did before due to Changbin’s presence. Sitting down on the chair you had also pulled over, you sighed. “Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t want to take the risk and sleep.”

You looked at Minho, your brows raising slowly to display a vulnerably honest expression. No malice was hidden behind your eyes, your gaze only directed at him. “I don’t want to leave you, Minho.”

His munching halted. He could feel a hint of unease at the bottom of his stomach, possibly due to what you said and the soft way you said it. As if you were afraid, cautious. Lowering his hand, he inhaled, kind of wishing his inner voice would kick him in the head and give him a little nudge to the right path.

But really, what more was there left to say, Minho? [Name] has said all they could.

“You are not going leave me,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “Not consciously, no.”

Minho pursed his lips. Think carefully; for him to convince himself of what you said, he has to nitpick the past and the present, like separating different colored peas with chopsticks.

Starting from the day you met him, you said you have no idea what his name is and you woke up in his bed even though he had this terrible rule of not sleeping together. That was one. Then you forgot about the marriage; you were surprised by the ring on your hand so much that you even asked him for the price. That was two. You went into his closet, even when you were banned from touching certain things that were his. That was three. These were all rules to be broken, but the old you never had the guts to do that. It didn’t make sense for the courage to suddenly appear.

Asking for a divorce and acting like you didn’t know it was arranged, forgetting that your parents were dead, completely unbothered by Yuna’s presence, suddenly knowing how to cook up a whole meal, eating lots of greasy food, profoundly cursing, being playful enough to give him nicknames and make bad jokes.

Aside from that, he could physically tell, now that he thought about it with a clearer head. You were less timid and much louder. Sure, you have your moments of tenderness, but overall you felt much more energized and much happier than before. It was a difference in your presence—you didn’t use to light up the room when you walk into one, but now all Minho could see was you whenever you come into his line of sight. And that was before he fell so in love with you.

The pieces were adding up to an unbelievable story. 

Minho looked up at Changbin, his gaze hardened. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

You widened your eyes at his troubled look, then you turned around and urged your best friend away as well, promising to find him later when your private talk ends. Changbin rolled his eyes and unwillingly left, and then it was finally just you and him.

Minho started without waiting. “Let me recap everything. You came here not knowing who I am or what this place is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “does this mean you believe me now?”

“Wait–why didn’t you tell me before then?” he asked.

“I thought I would leave soon and return to where I came from. I didn’t expect to stay so long,” you said. “Also, drama taught me it is better to keep my identity hidden.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “So, you suspect that the way for you to go back is through a near-death experience?”

“And falling asleep later,” you hummed. “This one I learned out of instinct, but I’m sure it’s happened before on some show.”

Minho scoffed, “You can’t trust dramas all the time. They’re made up.”

“Yeah, but this feels too much like one for me to ignore it! I mean, look at this!” You pointed at him, smiling bitterly. “Look at you! I would have never been able to snatch a guy like you if I was back in my world. I was a huge loner. All I did was work and have fleeting crushes.”

He watched as you lowered your arm, your smile dimming significantly. “Honestly, I don’t even know if you love me or who used to be me.” You shrugged, not looking at him. “I am a new person to you now, right?”

Minho licked his lower lip. That problem has never crossed his mind before since it was so obvious that he loved you. His affection was never there, it wasn’t affection for you before. But then he started developing feelings of his own for you, steaming from a threatening turn where he might lose the care and obedience he was used to receiving. He just used to like being loved by 'you’, now he liked loving you; he liked the mutual feelings you two shared.

If all were true, then there was a whole world behind you he’s never known. You previous life, your friends, your fleeting crushes.

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

You stood up from the chair and carefully climbed onto the spot next to him. You back hit against the side rail, preventing you from falling off, while Minho pushed his hand against your waist to keep you close to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, a sigh leaving your lips quietly.

“You know, I thought you were funny, back when you first came here,” he said. “A little infuriating, yes, but amusing nonetheless.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you commented, giggling when he cleared his throat and nudged the top of your head with his jaw.

“You could have totally snatched me up even if we are not in this setting,” he said. “You aren’t like other people. You treat me differently.”

Ah, and the iconic line finally decided to make its appearance. I was hoping it’d at least happen once for you to hear it because you would only be able to hear it from Minho’s mouth.

“What do you mean different? I treat you the same way everyone treats you!” you said, suppressing a chuckle. You weren’t sure if that line had boosted your ego but it sure did make you feel quite special, as cliché as it was, but honestly? As a society, we should all establish that clichés don’t matter.

“No, you were so casual and honest. I think you are the only person who has given me nicknames aside from my old friends back in high school.” He nodded with a shaky laugh. He patted your waist in a beckoning motion, seeming excited. “And you’re even more different than others now because you are the only person I love, in that special kind of way.”

“What are you, five? Special kind of way–that’s lame!” you exclaimed, laughter escaping in between. When you quieted down, you pressed yourself closer to him and looked up.

He only glanced down when he felt your lips at the side of his jaw. And he kissed you then, leaning his head down eagerly to capture your lips. You were careful with moving around, your hand going up to stop at the nape of his neck, rubbing comfortingly as your mouths danced with each other sensually.

This could never be enough. Minho wanted more than this, he thought as he tugged you closer to him, feeling your chest against his side. This could never be enough. He wanted to do more than kissing you in a hospital bed. He wanted to kiss you under the moon, to kiss you at home, to kiss you during a spontaneous snack run at midnight. He wanted to eat junk food and get emotional about fictional characters with you; he wanted to see you read books while he worked on the side.

Minho wants you with him, always.

You pulled away, gasping a little at how teary his eyes had suddenly become. You didn’t need to ask why. You could already tell. “Do you believe me now?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to.” Minho let out a shaky breath. “If I do then I will have to accept the fact that you might leave me soon.”

A sobbing noise spiked from the back of your throat as you reached up to peck his lips. “I will try my best to stay awake for as long as I can, Minho.”

He nodded, even though the fact alone broke him, the fact that you two have to settle for 'as long as you can.’

You jolted awake again, this time in Minho’s workroom with a new book held loose in your hands.

You kept the lights on for the sake of having an awake atmosphere even though you knew very well that would do nothing to help your exhaustion. Looking up from the couch, you found it hard to just squint at the clock hanging above your head, but you saw that it was long past midnight already.

You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch as you kicked your legs in frustration. You were officially three days in, all three days you went without a lick of sleep. And you put in lots and lots of effort to accomplish that, such as eating, doing yoga, shopping, scrolling the internet, and indulging yourself in many new shows filled with more than seven seasons of emotions.

It was painful. Your body felt heavy and your eye bags were probably getting bigger as you went on. Your mind was slow, you zone out too much and you kept dozing off. The only thing keeping you from falling into slumber was the sickening feeling of you astral projecting out of this place.

You didn’t want to cry though. Not only would it make you feel even more exhausted, but it would also make you feel weak, and you didn’t want to feel pathetic that way if you were doing this so you could stay with the love of your life.

Huffing out a groan, you got off the couch and left the room. You were much more familiar with the house by now, you could practically walk anywhere with your eyes closed as long as you knew where you started. You walked down the hallway and stopped abruptly before a pair of doors.

Minho’s closet was as you remembered it was. Black and white, very minimalistic, with clothing racks lining up against the wall. One thing has changed, though, he has opened up a space for clothes you got him from time to time. The ones you thought he would look good in and he occasionally wears around in the house when he didn’t need to be in formal attire.

You flipped through the clothes, remembering where each one of them came from with a smile. It was quite funny as well, to see how the clothes gradually grew to be more accurate in his size with the more you brought.

Pulling a sweater off the rack, you admired the soft material by kneading it between your fingers, then you hugged it close to your chest. You brought the fabric close to your face, inhaling the warm scent you’ve gotten used to smelling on your own clothes as well.

You never tried to look into what detergent the housekeeper used to wash your clothes, but you always thought it had an artificial smell of some type of flower you have never smelt the actual scent of before. It stopped mattering now that you have gotten so accustomed to the smell. It just has the scent of a home, and home is Minho for you.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled out to control your quickened breathing. A sob threatened to break out but you muffled it with his sweater, clinging onto it like it was your life-line.

It has been so difficult for you. Staying awake beyond your limit and trying to smile with everyone else; you couldn’t even tell Minho how you felt when he asked if you were okay because a part of you dreaded that he’d let you go. You felt alone, worrying and fearing for the day you would leave this place.

Standing in his closet and having his scent so close to you pushed you past the breaking point. All you knew was that you wanted to stay with Minho, and knowing how sleep would be inevitable made you cry.

The past three days have only been about that. You couldn’t afford to think about anything else.

You stood there alone and sobbed for as long as your body allowed. When you were done, you dropped the sweater on the rack and took off your own just so you would wear it.

It felt warm, big and warm, just like Minho.

You felt another sob bubbling up.

Minho could tell you have been crying when you arrived to visit him for the night.

It has become increasingly difficult for him not to notice how worn out you were, not to mention having to neglect it and pretend as if nothing was happening. Although you were the one who was so determined to keep yourself in this place, and of course, he too wanted you to stay here, he couldn’t help the gruesome guilt that rips through his veins whenever he sees that defeated state of yours.

You were dozing off on the couch again. He could somehow feel it whenever you’ve got your eyes closed, it was like a tingly sense that shoots down his spine. Even then, he always looks over to check if you are, and you were this time, your chin squished against the base of your palm with your elbow propped up against the armrest of the couch. You were dozing and waking, an indefinite cycle that would only stop until you reach the point of insanity, he supposed.

When this first happened, when he first saw you with your eyes closed and unresponsive, he used to have this knot in his stomach that would tighten harshly in a way that makes him hallucinate pain. The fear used to make him want to throw up, it used to make his face go red and his fist curl until the nails dig deep into his skin. It feigns an anxiety attack for him, and God knows how to properly handle those.

“[Name]!” he repeatedly called for you, feeling the knot inside of him release its chokehold slowly the longer he has to call for you. But you woke up eventually, your body falling to the side and the sudden impact yanking you out to sleepiness.

You looked around and heaved a sigh, whether it was a relieved one was uncertain to everyone, including you. Turning over to look at Minho, you tilted your head and asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

Your posture was terrible, like usual but much worse now that your shoulders were hunched all over and your neck cranked in longing to take a decent break. Your body was fidgety, a habit you picked up to keep yourself active in movement so you wouldn’t fall asleep. The dark circles under your eyes were starting to get more visible than the smile Minho had always paid more attention, and there was no light in your eyes, just a pit of shadowy doom.

Maybe you were trying your best, but you couldn’t look at him like you love him anymore; your eyes physically could not manifest the affection you felt.

This was his fault. Maybe it wasn’t, you certainly would never blame him for this, but Minho still felt like he was the one putting you through all of this. And he hated seeing you so out of place because you haven’t slept in days, and for what? To get a few more days with him? Honest to God, your mind was barely with him these days anyway.

Minho pursed his lips into a thin line, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. And he shook his head. “You should go to sleep. This is killing you.”

You were quick to turn down his suggestion. “No.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” you said. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well, you are going to have to go either way so why not make that earlier?” he asked, raising his voice, causing your defenses to build up quickly.

You stood up from your seat, your eyes wide in a glare for the first time in days. “What is your problem, Minho? Do you want me to leave so bad?”

“I don’t–“ he breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes to keep his temper low now that yours have been shorter than usual. “I don’t want you to leave. If I get to choose, I will always choose to have you stay here with me, but look at yourself!”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“You’re tired, you are so tired. You have been crying, you eat slow, your temper is short, you barely react to anything anybody says. Even the nurse who came in to check up on me this afternoon asked if you are okay because you don’t look okay!” he exclaimed. Then, sucking in a breath as if gargling his words, he exhaled through a soft huff before he whispered, “I love you, [Name], so much. But not like this. Not when you are so miserable because of me.”

If his existence is causing you pain then he’d rather not have it. As selfish as he wanted to be, he would choose to let you go.

Your arms dropped to your side and you rolled your eyes up. You have told him the same thing before. God, you felt like one of those female leads who cry every single episode, it was so enraging. Everything you have sought to not become, you’ve become it.

Minho moved to the side on his bed, leaving you a spot, and he called out, “Come here.”

You looked back down at him, your sight blurred at the thought of what he meant to do. You were going to walk over, he would wrap you in his arms, and you would fall asleep to his warmth. He would still be here but you would be somewhere else. It would be quick, it would happen before you even know it.

“Come here, please?” he asked again, softly. “Let me hold you.”

You rubbed your eyes and moved over slowly. He helped you as you climbed onto the bed, snuggling up next to his side with your head laid on his shoulder and his arms securely around your torso. He squeezed your arm and breathed out a joking giggle, mentioning something about you getting chubbier and earning a hit on the chest in return.

His fingers shifted through your hair when you looked up at him, and he smiled down at you like nothing was going wrong. Eyeing his lips once, you didn’t hesitate to reach up for a long, loving kiss, one where your tears were mixed with the taste of his mouth.

When you pulled away, you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “This is actually pretty funny. I am the one who got injured but here we are, crying over you leaving instead.”

You laughed silently, bringing him closer to you. Minho has steady breathing but his heart beat quickly. It rattled against your ears, reminding you that he was as nervous as you were about losing each other. Your senses were shutting down slowly, ready to go into rest when you finally gain the sleep your body has been screaming at you to get.

“I’m sleepy, Minho,” you muttered, adjusting your head.

“I know. You can sleep, it’s okay,” Minho hummed. “You can go. I’m gonna be fine.”

You licked your lower lip, the dryness giving you a sticky sensation. “Love them as much as you love me, alright?”

He couldn’t do that. But he wouldn’t tell you, he wanted you to go without any troubles lingering in your head. He wanted you to leave happily, or as happy as you could be.

Kissing your forehead, he felt your breathing ease up. His hand rubbed your back soothingly as he asked, “Will you remember that I love you?”

You didn’t answer.

Minho stirred uncomfortably in the single hospital bed. As his sense slowly returned to him, he tightened his grip on you, keeping you from falling off. It was nighttime outside, and he supposed a nurse dropped by and turned the lights off when he saw you both sleeping. He could barely remember what happened before he was knocked out.

You shifted slightly by him, head nuzzling against his chest before looking up to find the owner of the body you were cuddling.

“[Name]?” Minho called.

The person jolted from their place. Feet landing coldly on the floor, they fixed their hair and took a wide step away from the bed. “Minho! I’m sorry!” 

His heart dropped. There was his answer: he could tell.

Same face. Same body. Same voice. 

Not you.

Your eyes snapped open and you groaned at the pain oozing at your side. What the hell happened? You could see that you were back in your room, which was weird because the last time you checked, you were on your way to work. You remembered waking up late and rushing out of your apartment, and then everything simply went blank from there.

“Oh, you’re awake! I thought you died or something!”

You sat up on your bed and furrowed your brows at your brown-haired friend. Rubbing your eyes, you yawned and scanned your room, taking in its unfamiliarity with intense suspicion before you turned back to your smiley friend and asked, “Did you move my shit?”

“I just got here like five minutes ago after your mom called me,” he deadpanned. “I was cooking you chicken porridge! She said you blacked out and slept for three days straight, you sleepyhead!”

“Three days–Chan what?” You got off your bed and headed over to your desk where your phone was. You weren’t sure why you needed to check the time, it held no significance to how you were in deep trouble with your boss for ditching work for three days. “Why did no one wake me?”

He handed you a glass of water first, seeing how frantic you appeared right after waking up in the middle of the day. You received it—snatched it—and quickly gulped down the liquid, feeling a sense of relief rush through you when the water hit your throat.

“We tried but you were knocked out cold.” He shrugged. “If you are worried about work, don’t. I talked to our manager for you already. I even exaggerated the part where you almost got in a car crash and died so you needed time to recover from it.”

The water spilled from the glass when you choked in shock. Your brows furrowed harshly as you pulled the glass away, causing more water to flow out of the cup, and you yelled at Chan, “What? I almost got in a car crash?”

He gave you a slow laugh, more concerned than annoyed that you’ve made a mess and yelled at him in the past five seconds. “You almost got hit by a car the other day when you left for work. You were looking at your phone and not paying attention. I had to pull you away from the road! Did you forget all of that?”

You placed the glass of water down on your desk, rubbing your mouth with your forearm harshly. As you brought your hand closer to your mouth, a painful scratch eliciting a yelp from you. Moving your hand away from your face, your eyes trailed up your arm and they widened when you saw the diamond ring located on your fourth finger. You cursed out loud, gaining Chan’s attention, and when his eyes moved towards what you were looking, he too mirrored your confused look.

“What is this!” you asked, looking at him.

“What is what–woah! Did you drunk buy this?” he asked, moving closer to examine the ring on your hand. “You need to return it. You’re crazy. You can’t afford this!”

“I know I can’t afford this,” you exclaimed, glaring at him in defeat. “But I swear I don’t remember ever buying this! Did you see me wearing this when I almost got hit by a car?”

Chan paused for a moment to think. He hadn’t really noticed back then, he was too busy trying to keep your phone-obsessed ass from dying. But if you didn’t have it back then, there should be no way for you to have it now. You have been bedridden, you could not have possibly gotten drunk within the last couple of days, and you would never buy a ring like that when you were sober.

“Did you steal it from someone?” he suggested, feeling the wrath of your impatience as he stepped away from you in precaution. “Oh but you couldn’t–“ 

“No! I don’t know where this ring came from, Chan,” you exclaimed, showing him your hands and grimacing at how perfectly it fit around your finger. “Also, can’t you humor the idea that maybe someone proposed to me?”

“Someone with the money to buy that ring? Uh, no,” he said honestly, putting his hands on his hips in a comical way.

Brushing him off, you slumped back onto your bed with your arm covering your eye. “Whatever. I’ll find out where I got it from somehow.”

“Or you can sell it,” Chan suggested.

You chuckled at the thought. Imagine the amount of money you could get from selling that ring. You did not know about diamonds but you could tell when one looks expensive. Bringing your hand up above your face, you shifted your hand to observe the ring more carefully. A weird sense of comfort rushed through you, making you relax further into your mattress. Coming after the comfort was a very bad sense of nostalgia, one that makes your heart ache for something you couldn’t remember.

“Actually, maybe I’ll keep it,” you muttered, eyes hazy the more you stared at the ring. “I think I want to keep it.”

“Okay.” Chan shrugged at the side. Moving over to your desk, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? I need to go back to work. Lunch is over for me already.”

“Thank you,” you hummed from the bed, nodding. “I’ll come back to work as soon as I can.” 

“Before you get fired, at least.” He eyed you carefully. You laid motionless on your bed, completely out of it. He nudged your feet with his own to catch your attention. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am fine, Chan.” You rolled your eyes. “Stop nagging.”

He scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay, alright?”

The nostalgia hit like a rush this time and you held down a flinch. For some reason, Chan didn’t sound so much like him when he said that, but you couldn’t tell whose voice that was. When you turned your head to look at him, your gaze shifted in rapid sequences, like frames changing on a television screen. Chan’s silhouette shifted in blurry motion into a man of slightly smaller but more visibly muscular stature. You felt your body jolt in recognition. 

Recognition? Pause. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Let me rewind it. 

Chan scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay.”

You sniffed away a potential sneeze, hearing Chan’s giggle from your ridiculous expression. Throwing your head back against your bed, you waved your hand at him. “Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”

You hummed loudly in response, not bothering to look up at him. When you heard the front door lock, you groaned out a frustrated sigh and turned to your side. It has been a weird couple of minutes; you almost got in a car crash but you forgot, you slept for three days and you had no idea, you got a diamond ring on your hand which you have no recollection of ever getting. 

You brought your hand up and frowned. The ring was heavy on your hand and it would most likely disrupt your sleep. But there was something else—the nostalgia that was lapping at your chest one wave after another. A feeling beyond your imagination, resting against your heart carefully yet it rattles you like nothing ever has.

“Where did you come from?” you whispered to the diamond ring sitting perfectly on your finger. 

You decided not to take it off.

Never in a million years did Minho think he’d end up relying on Changbin, but he has no other option due to knowing a shared secret. 

“How are you feeling?” Changbin asked after he plopped down on the study room couch. 

Scatters of paperwork piled on the table were deliberately placed messily to distract Minho from his worries. If his eyes were occupied, his mind may be too. Turning the chair, he eyed Changbin nonchalantly by the desk. “My spouse left me.”

“Not good. Noted!” Changbin exclaimed with a single clap of his hands. He ended up awkwardly rubbing them as they laid themselves on his thighs. 

Silence emerged, much like every other time they’ve hung out together. If he could call it anything different, Changbin would consider these moments more mandatory emotional check-ups than hanging out with good friends. Not only was Minho not a good friend, not even with such a golden opportunity, but Minho was never in the mood for anything anymore. In some ways, he has reverted to his grumpy personality, only this time he knew how to be nice about it. He learned it from you. 

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?” 

Changbin looked up from his fiddling thumbs. Minho’s thousand-yard stare burnt holes through the ceiling, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the particular question he voiced. He’s done his fair share of deep-diving about parallel universes and whatnot. Understanding the theories was one thing; accepting that it has been carried out was another.

It still felt impossible. Changbin was holding onto the fact that you have never jumped anywhere, and it was a figment of your imagination that you somehow could portray excellently. 

A character change only takes a good performer or someone fully convinced they’re somebody else. 

The light glimmered as if to add glamour to the rigid atmosphere. Changbin let his neck rest on the back of the couch, and he shrugged. “If they do, you’ll be the first person they look for.”

Light returned to Minho’s eyes. He dreamt about that day. He wondered how it would go. Perhaps seamlessly as the day you first arrived. There won’t be chances of him missing your presence; not only would you make yourself seen, but he was more than sure he would know. A radar within himself would begin blaring sirens—he would just know if you were around again. And it would be a typical day. You would be at home, and he would return home. You would have dinner, you would go to bed together. 

It would finally be a normal day when you come back. 

For now, the glimmer in his eyes fades.

Weeks have passed with the same weight on your shoulders. You have come around to learn how to ignore it. You have learned to distract yourself from it. You work, hang out with people, and entertain yourself with the media. But even then, the grave mistake you made to not take that promise ring off your finger kept reminding you of the shaking sentiment that often shines at the end of the day.

You have looked through different online shops to find out where you could have gotten the ring from. It was a long stretch. You knew it would take ages to find the actual shop, but the promise of long-term confusion somehow assured you that you would have an excuse to keep it with you longer.

It has been weeks, though, and your hope was thinning. You could not find any matches, even after you personally headed over to the shops and asked the staff to take a closer look. You even went so far as to search for the lesser-known brands that would still make rings with diamonds as sparkly and extravagant as the one you got. Nothing, it was like the ring was custom-made, and that made you feel worse about having it.

It must have been really important to the owner, you reckon. It should not be in your hands.

“I feel bad for keeping it,” you spoke to the phone, where Chan sighed on the other side, most likely from irritation. The ring was all you talked about these weeks, aside from occasional work problems and drunken confessions you weren’t afraid to make to him.

“Then sell it.”

“But I don’t want to sell it.”

“Then what do you want to do? I keep giving you suggestions, and you keep shooting me down,” he complained with a helpless whine.

“I want you to tell me what to do!” you exclaimed.

“I say sell it,” he said.

“I don’t want to sell it.”

“I’m hanging up. I can’t take this abuse anymore,” Chan threatened with a yell of frustration. You could imagine him leaning against his chair and pushing it away from his desk, his eyes squinted into moon-shaped smiles, and his nose scrunched up in defeat.

“It’s just… this stupid ring is giving me weird vibes!” You stopped before the road and glanced down at the ring. “I feel sad but also happy when I look at it! Like some sort of deja vu!”

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while,” he said. “Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is.”

You frowned. Chan was no help at all. From your peripheral vision, you could see that people had started to cross the street, so you followed suit quickly, intending to not block the road and be yelled at by some caffeine-deprived stranger who hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep yet.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears.

A stranger reached their hand out to grab a fistful of your shirt so they could yank you back to safety. The pull was strong and panicky, like back when you were younger, how your mother would smack you after you did something wrong, but much harder than that. Your gaze wobbled when your head hit a slight whiplash at the force, the sky welcoming your view. Tears unnaturally welled in your eyes as your hands waited for the impact of the ground. 

“No,” you whispered, the blur of a car crash disappearing from your memories. “Minho–“

I will be scratching that off. Let me rewind. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before the sight of incoming cars made you freeze. 

A stranger reached their hand out to—

Uh, I'm also scratching that off. This is wrong. Nothing happens to you.

How did you manage to get yourself stuck in a near-death situation twice in a row? What is this? Is it some kind of manifestation theory? It's made up.

Let me rewind.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You jumped out of the way with a scream, missing the car by a few inches. It scraped past you, causing your body to fall back. Instead of catching yourself in the slow fall, you let your body flail about in the air as more cars slowly closed the distance between themselves and you. Pedestrians standing on the road couldn’t do anything out of sheer intimidation, born from the cars speeding toward you. You looked toward where the honking came from.

Alright, clearly, you are unknowingly in a disagreement with me. I have seen this in prior experiments. Something that involves the biological lack of freedom when your body moves toward what you truly desire? I have seen that before.

You will not hinder this experiment because of it. I am rewinding further.

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while. Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is,” Chan said. “Look, you’ve been thinking about this too much. How about we go get a drink tonight? 

“I don’t know, Chan,” you muttered with a sigh. “I’ve been feeling really depressed lately.”

“I’m surprised you don’t think I can tell,” he said. “How about this–I’ll buy some drinks, and we’ll hang out at yours. Beats heading outside, right?”

You closed your eyes. That could work. One of the biggest reasons the outside was so unappealing was that you had to step into it. Even now, with the sun shining on your head, you’re quickening your pace to go home.

If Chan was willing to go through the trouble of paying for drinks and hauling them to your apartment, you’ve got no complaints. It might also be an excellent way to forget about this whole deja vu situation.

“Deal,” you confirmed with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Chan giggled from the other side, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

The sequence repeats itself. I swore I scratched that off the document.

You snapped your head up from looking at the ground. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you—stop! I

can’t keep doing this. It’s your muscle memory, isn’t it? That damn biological manifestation theory is real.

Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road entirely, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears—you are suicidal. You are suicidal over a man your mind cannot begin to make out the silhouette of.

It's pathetic. Stop wasting my time.

You could see the cars coming, but your feet wouldn’t move. Your eyes stared through the danger into a beacon laid far away, the illusion of a man’s face you should have forgotten, and I know for a fact that you weren't supposed to acknowledge you have forgotten someone.

His name echoed silently through your mind, but his warmth remained on your body, in the shape of your arms and the weight on your finger. 

I insult you. I say you cannot remember his silhouette, and the next second, your spite draws a fraction of him in your mind. Or perhaps it wasn't spite but rather love? Is this the lesson you are teaching me? That love and spite are identical? That love stands beyond the mind and the body as its own concept?

You didn't choose to remember, yet you do. Returning to your true home was instinctive, and I’m afraid it is time for me to admit that I have no power to stop you.

Love goes beyond even me. Suppose that's a good lesson to learn.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears. Scared, your knees gave away, and you fell backward.

The screams of others and the urgent car honks were blocked out from your ears. You turned your head to the side and saw a truck running down the road towards you. This one would kill you, you would close your eyes, and you would leave this place. Your lips quirked uncontrollably. 

You would go back to him.

The mesh curtains stayed the same, useless against the sun but pretty with it. The bedsheet was as you felt it the first time, soft and silky yet thick and warm, the ones that make you sleep like you were in a goddamn coma. And Minho was the same as you last remembered seeing him—fluttery lashes, soft brown locks, and naturally pouty lips.

You remembered. 

You pursed your lips into a tight smile to keep a laughing sob from bubbling up your throat. Staring at him, you realize he made you feel the same as you last remembered, and immeasurable affection pulled at your fingertips, longing for a touch of his gentle skin and to feel him close to you. And you did, unapologetically, caressed his face with the back of your fingers.

Perhaps it was a deliberate plan to wake him up, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself.

Minho stirred in his sleep at the touch. His brows furrowed before he opened his eyes, and when he saw you, his frown only deepened. You (or, well, ‘you’) have never tried to attempt this before, nor has he ever asked for love from them. His mind was occupied by somebody else, someone he thought would never come back to him ever again. Feeling this, having his cheek tenderly stroked in the morning, was surprising and weird.

“Hey, Minho,” you whispered, pinching his cheek slightly.

A shiver so strong it felt like a lightning zap ran down his body. His eyes widened slowly in recognition. He would know. He would just know. Through looking at you, through the feeling of your skin, through the way you space out your words, through the way you control your tone, through the way his ears react to your voice, through everything. He would know. He would be the first to know. 

His eyes moved across your features. You looked the same as he had always seen you, before and after you left. But there was one defining difference he could make: the ring on your hand wasn’t there before. You had taken it with you after you left this place, and now it’s back. 

“[Name],” he croaked out, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, gripping it gently.

“I’m home.” You nodded with a smile. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you I’ll be late.”

The tears flow freely down his cheeks. It has been extremely difficult for him to revert to his usual lifestyle and pretend to be in love again. He had tried to bring himself to like ‘you,’ but it was useless. They simply felt different despite looking the same as you. 

He had missed your stupid jokes, the way you could come back home with bags of clothes he rarely has the chance to wear, and the food you cook. The little recurring moments he loved with you, he replayed them every night in the room and didn’t dare to allow himself to forget you.

You took the initiative and moved closer to him. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, and after you lovingly nudged the tip of your noses together, you leaned in to give him a long-awaited kiss. He melted against you, against your lips and your hand, with desperation in each curve of his mouth. He felt like he couldn’t let go. He knew he couldn’t let you go this time, never again.

Reluctantly pulling away, your dazed eyes stared right back into his. You touched his face again, smiling. Minho cupped your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours with a light whisper, “Do you remember who I am?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Who am I?”

The sun shone from outside, casting a ray of warmth at an empty ring box located at the corner of the desk.

“You are Lee Minho,” you said, giving his lips a peck. “You are my husband.”

And you remembered that he told you he loves you, just as you love him.  

[soraviie]

jealous over a friend.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: angst, a teeny tiny bit of humour ━  pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: Please, like, reblog and leave a comment, they inspire the writing to continue :)

━ linked to: "he's a friend of a friend" and "crushing on a friend"

NAMJOON: The smile is present but the eyes scream murder and once he puts a hand on your shoulder, you stiffen. Not because he makes you uncomfortable, well, perhaps just a little, after all the poisoned aura is streaming from him in pungent waves. Be that as it may, you stiffen more so because of the implications behind the seemingly minuscule gesture. Why do it at all? One time? Sure. But this was not a rare occurrence anymore. Still, you don't discuss it. Both of you observe this rather intricate though entirely mute ritual - he acts like your lover but isn't and neither of you ever dare to bring it up. At most, there are fifteen stifled minutes where both of you stand awkwardly in each other’s presence. Afterwards, it's discarded and you go back to being Namjoon and ______________. Whatever that means.

And frankly you're sick of it.

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and loudly proclaim that no, you're not ready to leave yet. Instantly his eyes narrow and if feasible there'd be smoke coming from his nostrils.

"We arrived together."

"Does that mean we leave together as well?"

The person you've scarcely flirted with has already long disappeared into the depths of yet another one of Namjoon's cement post-modern art exhibitions despite you both not noticing. This isn't about them. It's about Namjoon and _____________ and what does that mean.

Huffing a breath of barely contained ire, he continues, trying to sound softer.

"It's safer if we stick together."

It's late afternoon as you trail down an abandoned side street. The golden sun is slowly sinking below the horizon and though the air is warm it's unperturbed by conversation. You listened to him in the end. Why do you always listen to him?

Your depressed sigh doesn't go unnoticed. Namjoon’s head quirks in your direction, you can see so from the corner of the eye.

"They weren't the right one for you," he mutters, almost like an afterthought.

"Then who is? You never like anyone I do," you snap back. He opens his mouth as though ready to say the definitive answer but somewhere in the seconds before his gaze lifts off the cobbled ground to stare at your face only to return back to the ground, the reply is lost.

"I don't know," his fists come up to curl by his side. "Just...someone else."

YOONGI: The yearly get away among dearly beloved and wonderful friends, Sae's words not yours, was not going how you'd planned it. First of all, it was once again Yoongi, the Special Presidential Envoy Min Yoongi, who volunteered to drive your directionally insane ass to the storybook cabin deep in Gangwon province. As if sensing that the last two times meeting each other face to face was not enough of an embarrassing ordeal, he just had to be so chivalrous and offer to pick you up. And sure the last time wasn't...that bad but he was after all Min Yoongi. No matter how many times he'd inexplicably texted you over the course of this bizarre year, it didn't change the fundamental fact - he was Min Yoongi and you were you.

Maybe he'd realised that as well because as it stood he appeared on the very brink of hurling. Lips turned downward and gaze set numbly on the floor, he sits in the far edge of the patio and looks positively disgusted. The change of moods is so jarring, you can't hear a word what Drew is saying. You like Drew, perhaps once upon a time a bit too much, but currently you find yourself wishing they'd just shut it.

"He looks sick," they point out quietly, briefly making eyes at Yoongi. "Does he have a stomach flu?"

"I don't know," you honestly shrug. "We were talking some thirty minutes ago and everything was fine."

"Maybe you should go ask him?"

Your eyes widen and much like Edvard Munch painting you gape at Drew, jaw growing slack.

"Me?" you parrot, scandalised. "Why me?!"

"Because he talks to you the most?" Drew answers, equally befuddled.

You turn towards Yoongi, accidentally clutching the glass so tightly it makes an audible squeak and feeling the weight of your stare, he meets it head on. Then he swivels away.

"He probably hates me," you lament. "I get it. I went on a long ramble about hues of green colour on the way over here. Hatred is understandable."

"Hmm, does he?" Drew hums cryptically. "I rather think it's me he dislikes."

"You?" you query with a furrowed brow. "What have you done?"

"I'm talking to you, am I not?"

"I don't get it," you mutter after a moment of consideration.

Once Drew leaves for the night, to your surprise, Yoongi stops by and offers to drive you back, even to the airport once the vacation is over. And while technically you were supposed to hitch with Sae and the rest, your mouth is faster than the brain and you blur a breathy agreement.

Curiously, he doesn't appear disgusted in the slightest, in fact, Yoongi gives you a diffident smile, softly ghosting his fingers across your palm to tug you onto one of the many plush seats laying around on the patio. You're tired, says he, he'd noticed.

JIN: "What...was that?" you question curiously at Jin's retreating back. He blinks at you, feigning utter innocence but the displeased scrunch of his nose tells you a very different story. One might even say a polar opposite.

"What was what?" he mimics your confusion with frustrating level of acted ignorance. "Did you think anything weird was going on? 'Cause I didn't. All is cool."

Jin who previously had to get bubbled off a bottle of champagne to even say sorry to you had just guided you out of the room, hand around waist and all, after bidding a polite yet cutting to a faceless stranger: "thank you for the flattery, they're however taken. Try again never".

Yes, safe to say, it was a bit weird.

The longer the weight of your undivided stare settles upon his shoulders, the more he crumbles.

"He was making you uncomfortable, wasn't he?" he whines, affronted if the pout was any indication.

"Well, yeah, but I doubt you could see it across the mile long hallway," you smile at him, curiosity eating you whole. The action was...uncharacteristic for Jin. Though lately he'd been acting quite weird. Like he was holding some big and grave secret that he could hardly contain within himself.

"Well, I did," he scorns, kissing his teeth in annoyance. "Now buy me a drink."

"Buy you a drink?" you echo disbelievingly. "It's my birthday!"

"And we're celebrating the collective good," Jin throws you a wayward glare over his broad shoulder. "You and me. We need nothing more."

You're rather inclined to agree though you don't voice it out loud. Jin had this weird habit of going beetroot read whenever you said something too sweet.

HOSEOK: "You're hanging out with Hoseok? You?" the level of surprise in Nall's voice is almost insulting so you react to it as such. Giving her your driest glare, you flick a strand of hair away from the eyes.

"Yes, me. I don't see what you're fussing so much about."

"Oh come on!" she protests. "I had to swear in blood-"

"It was cranberry jam."

"-that I won't even bring him up in conversation and now you're friends?!"

"Yeah well," you retort off-handedly over the shoulder. "He accidentally met me on the street and we ate together and now we're...friendly. He's cool," the last part you keep largely to yourself. "Do you like this shirt?"

"The shirt is sick!" Was the first thing out of Hoseok's mouth, once you spot the tuft of his dyed hair from a distance. You bid a quiet thank you, forcing a stiff smile upon your lips. Okay, so perhaps you weren't as easy going with him as you projected to Naal but he really was cool. In the relatively span of time you actually talked to him in a friendly manner, you saw the invisible albeit sturdy wall between both of you thinning and although Hoseok noticed it as well he never pushed you to break it. You went at your own pace and he was glad to tag by.

The conversations flows easy, it's not particularly deep but it's fine for now. He relies on the advice he feels comfortable asking for and you divulge little worries that have piled along the way. It's all good for now.

"Any special plans for the weekend?" The festival is coming up," he remarks in between bites of crispy glazed chicken. It's good, he had shared a piece.

"Oh, I'm going on a date."

The movement of Hoseok's hand stops and you lift your head to see what caused the change.

"Really?" he inquires politely, somewhat disinterested. "With whom?"

"Don't know yet," you shrug. "Nall set me up with one of her dancing partners. What about the festival? You're going to that one."

Hoseok gifts a smile that feels a bit too stiff for your liking but you shrug it off. Not like you knew him all that well.

"No," he says suspiciously light. "Reconsidered."

JIMIN: "What am I only supposed to talk to you?!"

"Yes! No one else! Just me!"

You draw a shuddering sigh of tightly congealed wrath, glaring Jimin down with all the world's disdain.

"Fuck you."

Oh, how you wished that it would be the triumphant march of victory that you'd walk home with but, alas, it's more of a sad, tired shuffle where the only thing you see is the soulless city concrete and the only thing you feel is the ever surmounting mound of self-disgust.

Jimin's bright, you're dim, he's warm, you're cold. Different people worked out only in theory, in reality they walked their respective opposite ways. Had they not, would magnets not push each other away?

You don't think you're making sense anymore so you shake your head and numbly walk through the quiet doors of your home. With Jimin having spent all his free time here, seeing the dark shroud the hallway is almost disconcerting though once it was an all too familiar of a sight.

To recall that once upon a time he couldn't even properly glimpse at you. That he'd been nothing more than the yet antoher stranger Malia wanted to give the world to. The tone with which he'd spoken with you then had been reserved and polite. Where had that gone to? And why didn't you stop loving him no matter how hard you wanted to? Getting over Jimin in the unspoken suffocating empty space of your imagination was hard enough, why did he have to be so-!

A knock on the door.

Who else.

"You have a key," you open the door and grumble without a fail but he shrugs, hands deep in pockets and that guilty, though tad sharp expression mars his face.

"I wanted you to let me in."

"Are you going to say sorry?"

"No," his eyes darken, plush lips speaking words that drip down like honey but burn all the same. "I'm not sharing you with some sleazy asshole."

The thing about Jimin as you had learned was that there were great many parts of him, entangled and overlapping each other not unlike a twisted knot of wires. He could simultaneously be soft and fierce about the same thing like the way he is now - gazing at you determined from the other side of the open door.

"You're always so jealous," you roll your eyes, pretending that there isn't a part of you that giggles like a schoolchild over his hunger for your attention.

"Yes, I am," spitefully, he agrees, lifting one eyebrow. "What are you going to do about it?"

You stand mutely, slowly realizing that there couldn't be a march of victory to begin with as you never could have won. Like a spider made of well-meaning intentions and genuine care, he twists you around his ringed fingers. And you're so screwed.

"We're still friends, right?" he asks, prideful at first glance but you know how vulnerable his heart is underneath the glimmering, hardened armor of his that's neither a mask or a facade. His strength is not an illusion but a part of him. A part of him you love, though you'd rather die on the spot than let your mind wander on scenarios of possibilities.

At last, you give in, tired but sated in a way. You're still friends and he's here, you don't need anything else.

"Of course, we are," you sigh, stepping out the way and happily, Jimin slides in the slippers he'd lugged all the way from his house. "Though you infuriate me like fucking no one else."

You turn to glide into the kitchen, quickly finding that the greedy, beloved spider of yours has wrapped his hands around you, nosing pacifyingly at the back of your neck.

TAEHYUNG: "Just call him."

The sound of Jae's exasperated tone pulls you away from the dutiful task of staring numbly at the phone.

"Didn't you plead the fifth?" you snide. But this is Jae and he cannot be so easily offended.

"I did, I did," sagely, he nods along. "Being caught up in this emotionally constipated friends to lovers shtick between my two besties is bad for the skin."

"We're not-" heatedly, you begin but it is quickly interrupted by a stern:

"Don't fool yourself."

You leave the room, phone still in hand.

Taehyung's confession hadn't been at all surprising - you were not stupid, however it did not make it any easier to accept. He was after all Kim Taehyung and the evolution of your relationship with him from that awkward first car ride was boggling enough, to transform into lovers was just...too much.

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I'm an adult," he glared at you across the candle lit table. "Don't rob me of my agency. I know what I feel."

You wet your lips, struggling and failing to come up with something both pointed and profound.

"Listen," he began anew, softer, maybe even tired in a way. "I'm not forcing you to love me back. I'm not out here demanding your affection."

You lift an eyebrow at him and instantly he concedes.

"Well, maybe a little but you know what I mean," he admitted with the very corners of the lips curling into a dry smile. "I'm not going to dictate how you should feel but in return I ask that you don't either. I promise I won't bother your peace of mind, just let me love you and if you ever decide to reciprocate, I'll be here waiting."

Before the full weight of his confession had the time to make you utterly breathless, grimly, almost like an afterthought, he added:

"Though I won't pretend to be happy when you're with someone else. I'm sorry I just can't."

You have to give him that, he'd been up front about it hence why you can't really blame him. The unexpected re-emergence of your ex looking for a reconciliation had left Taehyung mute and sullen as he quickly hopped on a plane and left for overseas. Being a stubborn person yourself you dug your heels in, proclaiming that you won't entertain his tantrums but..

But you missed him.

When at last you broke down and called well into the night, he picked up immediately as though waiting all this time. You ignored the way your heart trembled at the thought of it.

Instead of a greeting there's a forlorn "I missed you" spoken in an absolute sync. You chuckle mirthlessly and so does he yet silence follows suit.

"You left," you accuse meekly. Vulnerable.

"I did," Taehyung hums, sounding tired of all things. "I couldn't stand seeing you get together with them again. I wish...I could be better for you."

"You're plenty of good," heatedly, you argue.

"Am I?" he echoes thoughtfully and you find yourself wishing you could gage what his expression was like. "I'm jealous and petty, and childish. You know that."

"So? No one's faultless."

I'm certainly not, you think to yourself. Had you been, you'd probably tell him that lately you've been liking him some different way than what you think friends should be. It's something, you don't know what it is.

"Are you going to get back together?" he asks tersely and, despite him not being able to see it, you shake your head.

"No," because of you.

And despite you not being able to see it, somewhere in the gilded hotel room that's as luxurious as it is lonely, Taehyung closes his eyes, pressing the phone to his ear, pining, yearning, wanting so much he wants to cry. Because of you. But he'll wait. Is it what he should do? Perhaps not but no one is after all faultless.

JUNGKOOK: "No."

"But-!"

"As your best friend-"

"You're not."

He casts a heavy glare over the rim of the glass.

"As your best friend," he reiterates strongly so there's no misinterpretation from your end. "You should just dump them."

"I cannot just do it over a text!"

"Sure, you can," Jungkook shrugs carelessly. "Undoubtedly it's an asshole move but the bitch deserves it."

"Jungkook!"

"What?!" he whines with the whole of his body, a familiar grimace of frown marring his features. Ever since you got together with your partner, he was nothing short of a storm cloud, glaring and raining on all the parade's happening around. "They stood you up - how many times? How many times you fought and they ignored you? How many times they threw a fuss about us going somewhere together?!" he scoffs harshly. "How possessive."

"Ever so self-aware, Koo," you roll your eyes, prompting him to examine you with earnest confusion.

"What do you mean? I happen to be extremely self-aware!"

"And jealous and possessive not to mention overly protect-"

"This is not shit on me day," he flicks your forehead, interrupting the long laundry list you've had simmering on the backburner for months now. The most annoying thing about Jungkook, and you don't tell him this, was that he managed to make those qualities a point of problem you closed your eyes upon.

"Well, of course, that's on Wednesday," rubbing the sore spot, you gruff, watching him down a sizeable chicken drumstick with no problem whatsoever. The already dour expression grows worse, forehead creasing into rows upon rows of deeply etched wrinkles. You smile to yourself. You knew he would like this place.

"Why did you never like them?" you question curiously after a moment of relative peace in which you'd been prodding disinterestedly at the chocolate mousse. "You're both quite alike actually."

"Yeah, but I actually lo-" he stops in midsentence, eyes stretching wide and for the lack of better term he does look like a deer caught in headlights - staring, absolutely frightened in front of him and not daring to move.

"Anyway, break up with them," he suddenly continues coolly as though nothing ever happened. "Write it in the sky if needed, I'll sponsor the event."

"You're so heinous," you mutter though he is right and the break up text clanging around your skull like a broken teleprompter has been nagging you enough. You'll break up. You want to do so.

"I don't share," he chews on the chicken, frowning full force. "What's mine is mine."

© soraviie, 2023

[peachm1lkk]

『 A Special Donation 』

Synopsis — Marcus gets a unique requests regarding his favorite-least-favorite pain pig

Warnings — NONCON, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, you wear a Collar, Degradation, reference to past Torture, choking, Abusive Relationships, past Stalking mentioned, Mild Painplay, Face Slapping, Canon-Typical Behavior, Porn Without Plot, Facials, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, He cums in your hair, Verbal Humiliation, You're not a good person lol

Pairing — Marcus x Reader

A/N — Cross posted this on AO3, I love Marcus so much... My second favorite ball of hatred who'd I'd let break all my bones.. Can you tell this is loosely based off his Patreon Audio?? Maybe

It's uncomfortable, you note— The collar snugly tied around your neck. Another thing you note, other than the fact that you probably missed a ton of work in your classes, was that he hasn't been back in a while. You weren't really used to this… silence, that overcame the apartment when you weren't sobbing or pleading with him not to hurt you.

You glances down at the amateur attempt to wrap broken fingers, your begging never really worked. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you stand up, wobbling slightly from the bit of malnutrition you've been experiencing from eating only microwave meals and cup noodles— the brief dizziness isn't helped by the fact that you usually don't eat much anyway.

On the bright side, if you can even call it that, you've been picking up baking! Making a variety of sweets whenever he wasn't paying attention to you, those days tended to be the best because other than a few random photos he left you to your own devices.

Just as you were about to walk to the living room, the door to their shared dorm rattled, a few frustrated attempts being made before Marcus finally opened it. He was probably fumbling with the keys.

“U-uh… welcome home,” you softly said, keeping your eyes on the floor.

Marcus grunted in response, tossing his backpack onto the couch. “Your friend asked where you were today.” He informed, walking up to what used to be your camera to examine how long its been recording. A hint of a smile on his face as he hit the mute button, “It's actually kinda funny how worried she seemed… Do you think she knows that she used to be featured on your blog?”

Oh he’s in that mood it seems like, you don't even know what to say. What could you say? Usually any time you spoke— whether it be to apologize or say some shitty excuse it ended with you on the floor crying.

Thankfully, he seemed content with your silence, “You can speak y’know, they can't hear us speak right now… you're little white knight saviors I mean.”

You swallowed hard, your throat dry and constricted by the collar. you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, afraid to meet Marcus's eyes.

"I... I don't know," you whispered, your voice hoarse from disuse. "I never told anyone about it."

Marcus chuckled darkly, stepping closer. You instinctively flinched away, but the wall behind you left nowhere for you to retreat.

"Oh, I'm sure you didn't," he said, reaching out to run a finger along your collar. "Our little secret, right?" His touch made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to remain still. Any reaction could set him off.

"You know," Marcus continued conversationally, "Someone made a donation today— A uh, what do you call it again? A commission, right.” you eyed him nervously as he walked over to the computer reading over past comments and forums regarding the live stream.

“Hey Piggy, you ever had sex before?” The question was as sudden as it was startling, “Pardon..?”

“I'm assuming you've had sex at least once since you have an ex and all that, but y'know… you're also you so I wouldn't be surprised if you've only seen two dicks in your life.” He goes on, much too casually for how personal the subject was— But maybe you didn't have a right to complain about privacy, god knows how many other people's privacy you've violated on those now privated posts.

“Hey pig, answer me.” The irritation in his voice has you tripping over your own words to get an answer out "You're right u-uhm… only done it with my ex.” you stammered, messing with the hem of your shirt with your good hand. “ No one else after that…”

Marcus's eyes gleamed with a mix of cruelty and excitement that made You's stomach churn. You could sense something terrible was coming. "You know how many times I thought about killing you when I found your little stalker forum?” He said changing subjects, grabbing the camera perched upon its stand. “I mean— It's disgusting, even now I still think about strangling you to death… Just the thought that you probably touched yourself to my photos makes me sick.” He takes a deep breath, his finger hitting a button on the camera that you couldn't remember the function for.

“How many times have you cum at the thought of my dick inside you?”

You felt sick, knowing that he wasn't entirely wrong “M-Marcus I'm sorry,” you whispered, even knowing it was futile you can never get rid of the instinct.

"Well, looks like today's your lucky day," he said with a smirk. "Our generous donor wants to see you fucked." Your eyes widened in horror. "What," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I-I can't...”

Marcus ignored your plea, grabbing your arm roughly. “And even if I can't kill you— I might as well fuck you like I'm gonna, right?”

He dragged you towards the bedroom, You stumbling behind him as you tried to resist. But months of captivity and malnourishment had left your weak and unsteady.

"Please, Marcus," you begged as he shoved you onto the bed. “I’m sorry I'm so sorry— please don't do this."Marcus laughed coldly as he loomed over your trembling form on the bed. "Sorry? You're sorry?” He mocked, “Sorry doesn't fucking pay for all the gross ass photos you’ve taken of me does it, pig?"

He set up the camera on the nightstand, angling it to capture the entire bed. Your heart raced as you heard the telltale beep of it starting to record.

“C'mon, Let's give our viewers a good show, I know how much you love their attention after all." Marcus whispered against the shell of your ear, You shuddered as Marcus's breath ghosted across your skin. Your mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this nightmare, but you were trapped - physically and psychologically. Months of captivity and abuse had worn away your defenses.

"Please," you whimpered one last time, even as Marcus began pulling at your clothes.

He ignored your feeble protests, methodically stripping your bare. The camera's unblinking eye recorded every moment of your humiliation. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to retreat into yourself, to find some quiet corner of your mind that this wasn't happening. But Marcus wouldn't allow you that small mercy. He grabbed your face, forcing you to look at him. "Eyes open," he growled. "I want you to see exactly who's doing this to you."

Tears streamed down You's cheeks as Marcus positioned himself over your. Tugging his own pants down to let his thickness free, “Ha… ha— You're just meat…” He mumbles slowly stroking himself to full hardness, “Meat that was born to be taken advantage of, it was only a matter of time before someone found out… I was just the less cruel option.”

You choked back a sob as Marcus's words cut through your like knives. you wanted to argue, to insist that you weren't just "meat," that you were a person with hopes and dreams and dignity. But Maybe he was right. Maybe this was all you deserved. Marcus lined himself up, his eyes locked on You's tear-streaked face. "Remember," he whispered, "you brought this on yourself."

With that, he thrust forward brutally, burying himself inside your unprepared body. You cried out in pain, your back arching off the bed. It hurt - oh god, it hurt so much. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the crushing weight of shame and despair.

"That's it," Marcus grunted, placing a hand on your lower stomach "Cry for the camera. Show everyone what good rape bait you are.” He cooed, setting a brutal pace forcing his cock as far as your gummy walls allowed it — “ For once you being small is actually a plus,” he panted in between thrusts, watching the small bump in your stomach appear and disappear in time with each thrust.

His eyes glanced over at the camera, a part of him feeling truly disgusted at the type of people watching— But at the same time it made his dick throb so much harder, “You like that? Showing everyone that you're just a flesh light, hm?”

Your body shook with each brutal thrust, pain radiating through your core. Despising how despite the pain his deep fucking was enough to tickle the instinct out, to pull wetness that with each slap of his pelvis pressing against your ass a damned embarrassing wet squelch was made.

"Answer me," he snarled, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back. "Tell the camera how much you love being used like the worthless cum dump you are."

A strangled whimper escaped You's lips. "I-I..." you gasped, barely able to form words through the pain and humiliation. "I luh—love being- being u-used."

Marcus's pace grew even more frantic, his grip on your hips bruising. "That's right," he panted. "This is all you're good for. Just meat to stick my dick in…” Holding your hips up with one hand his free hand snakes down to your throat- applying pressure slowly

“Meat that doesn't need to—shit—breathe.” He mumbles, You's vision begins to blur as Marcus's hand tightens around your throat. Her lungs burned, desperately craving oxygen. Panic overwhelmed you as darkness crept in at the edges of your sight. Just as you thought you might lose consciousness, Marcus released his grip. You gasped and coughed, gulping in air. The brief respite was short-lived as Marcus resumed his relentless assault on your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, his thrusts loosing pace and becoming erratic. “You felt so tight just then, do you really get off to me raping you? Are you that cock hungry?” He teased, letting his hand fall to your puffy clit- rubbing cruel circles all over the ball of nerves “Fuck… I'm close. Where do you want it, pig? Where should I mark you as mine?"

You couldn't answer, still struggling to catch your breath. Her silence seemed to anger Marcus further. The burning sensation of his hand registering first before you realized he'd slap you, cruel fingers digging into your cheek, forcing you to look at him. "I asked you a question," he snarled. "Where. Do. You. Want. It?"

With pained moans you refused to believe came from genuine pleasure you stammered out a shaky response, “O-out— puh-please, not in- in me.” you sobbed,

Marcus's eyes glinted with cruel amusement. "Not inside, huh? Well, since you asked so nicely..." With a final brutal thrust, he pulled out of your abused body. You barely had time to feel relief before he was straddling your chest, his hand gripping your jaw tightly.

"Open wide," he commanded, stroking himself furiously. Too broken to resist, You parted your lips. Marcus groaned as he reached his climax, his release splattering across your face and into your open mouth. You gagged at the thickness and slimy texture, but Marcus held your still until he was finished.

"There," he panted, wiping himself clean on your hair. "Now everyone can see what a filthy little whore you really are."

He climbed off your, tucking himself into his pants. And walking over to the camera to stop the recording, leaving You trembling and soiled on the bed. you curled into yourself, trying your best to tune it all out and just go to bed.

“Oh, piggy—” He started grabbing your attention, “You have an essay due or something, your professor stopped me earlier today to tell you that.” He casually explained, as if he didn't just rape you.

“I should probably go work on that project... Pretty sure it's due soon,” He said to himself, lifting the camera up to eye level. You flinched at the familiar clicking sound of the camera, trying to keep your soft crying to a minimum even after hearing him mumble something about the picture probably not printing well. You lay motionless on the bed, your mind struggling to process the trauma you had just endured. Every part of you ached - your body from the brutal assault, your throat from Marcus's choking, your very soul from the depths of degradation you had been forced to.

you could hear Marcus moving around the apartment, the casual sounds of everyday life a stark contrast to the horror of what had just transpired. The urge to scrub yourself clean was overwhelming, but You couldn't bring yourself to move. you feared any motion might shatter what was left of your fragile psyche.

Time passed in a haze. You drifted in and out of consciousness, your exhausted mind seeking escape in fitful snatches of sleep. You were vaguely aware of Marcus returning to the bedroom at some point, muttering about needing his textbook.

"You should really get started on that essay," he remarked “It's due in a few days.”

[switchundercover]

Tickletober Day 2: Accidental

A/N: HELLO TUMBLR TK COMMUNITY!! This is my first fic I'm posting on here, with tickletober giving me the motivation I needed to do so!! I've always been lurking in the community ever since I joined it, but I finally thought that it was time to put myself out there! I'm currently OBSESSED with ATSV, so I did a thing with Hobie and Miles bc I love how they interact in the movie! Anyways, I won't bore you with a super long authors note that most people probably won't read, so I hope you enjoy the fic!

Tw: swearing, mention of blood/bleeding out, tickles

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Hobie slumped onto the couch of his living room, clutching his waist in pain. He had been sent out on a mission, and had got beaten up.. pretty badly to say the least. Despite the insistence that he was fine and 'I've survived worse, I'll be alright', it didn't stop Miles Morales from checking in on him to examine and.. try to heal his wounds.

"Mate.. I'm fine, really." Hobie said, wincing as Miles examined the wound.

"Hobie, you're literally bleeding out." Miles replied, a hint of sass in his voice. Hobie just shrugged, surprising Miles with how nonchalant he was, but he did inhale sharply between his teeth as Miles wrapped up the wound in gauze. Hobie let out a shaky sigh, turning his head away from Miles. Hobie didn't like it when his friends took care of him like this, feeling like he could take care of himself due to being the oldest in the group. He felt it was childish of him to ask his younger friends for help, when he knew that they had to deal with the same, if not worse, pain.

Hobie's body flashed a few colours, the colour around his waist being relatively normal so Miles could see and tend to the wound better. The rest of his body was a muted gray, small bits of a blood red colour appearing on his body like paint splatters whenever Hobie would wince from the pain, the colours eventually fizzling back out into the gray. To anyone who didn't know Hobie, it was an oddly pretty spectacle (despite it being at Hobie's expense), but to those closest to him, it was relatively normal, so it didn't distract Miles from the task at hand; which was making sure Hobie didn't bleed out and die.

After the bulk of the treatment was finished, Hobie melted into his couch, feeling a bit more relaxed after the more painful part of the process was dealt with. Now, Miles was just examining his torso, making sure there were no other major wounds. The feeling was relatively calming, feeling like a sort of massage. Miles' fingers were quick to examine Hobie's torso, now examining his ribs to see if any of the bones had cracked. What Miles didn't expect was the sharp intake of breath that came from the punk, the spot that Miles touched flashing to a more neon shade of yellow for a brief moment before returning back to normal.

"O-oh, sorry- did I hurt you..?" Miles asked, a bit of shame in his tone. Miles looked at Hobie with a worried expression, afraid he might've caused more damage.

The usually cool and collected Hobie stammered for a moment before shaking his head, making up an excuse from the top of his head. "Nah, you're fine mate. Just wasn't really expecting it 's all." Hobie replied, that yellow colour on his ribs returning as if it was disagreeing with what Hobie said.

Miles noticed the flash of yellow, not exactly knowing what it meant. He knew that if Hobie's body was blue, it meant he was sad, pink meant platonic love (his body would be a brighter red if he was around someone he loved romantically), and many, many other different colours and meanings that Miles had memorized due to knowing Hobie for a good while. This yellow was new, something that Miles had never seen before. Miles thought he might've been reading to much into this, so he just gave Hobie a small hum in response and continued his examination.

Hobie's body stiffened slightly as Miles went back to examining his ribs, feeling an unbearably ticklish feeling every single time Miles' fingers would lightly press against the bones, checking for any painful reaction. The yellow colour only being on Hobie's ribs definitely eluded to.. something, Miles wasn't sure, but the colour made Miles somewhat worried. Miles withdrew his hands, a small frown on his face as he looked at his friend with concern.

"Hobie, if it hurts you need to tell me. I don't wanna make it worse." Miles fretted, his tone being concerned and a bit scared for his friend. Hobie felt a little bad that his stifled ticklish reactions made Miles worried, but.. it was still extremely embarrassing to him, so Hobie shook his head, dismissing Miles' worries.

"I'm fine. Don't worry 'bout it. You worry to much bruv." Hobie chuckled, his teeth clicking against his tongue piercing out of slight nervousness. Miles raised an eyebrow, inching his hand closer to Hobie's ribs, but not touching them just yet. Hobie's reaction immediately became apparent, the punk flinching away from Miles' hand, and the yellow colour on his body spreading slightly. Miles was confused. If it didn't hurt, what was the issue? Miles thought of himself in Hobie's situation for a moment, being injured and having a friend of his checking for injuries. He thought of somebody's hand pressing against his ribs, slightly pressing against the bone to see if they were hurt. Miles' eyes immediately widened at the realization, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"Oi, what're you bein' all smug about?" Hobie questioned, his body stiffening slightly as he pointed an accusing finger at Miles. Hobie figured that Miles had found out why he was reacting in the way that he did, and as a result of this, a small bit of red crept up onto his face, and the yellow along his ribs spread and became a bit brighter.

Miles couldn't stop himself from giggling, finding the situation incredibly amusing. "Oh, it's nothing.." Miles quickly darted a hand to Hobie's ribs before pulling it away just as fast, grinning as Hobie's body jumped away from it and an essence of a screech escaped his lips.

"Y-you wouldn't do.. that to me! I'm injured man, you'll kill me!" Hobie argued, narrowing his eyes as he found it a bit harder to keep his cool.

"Relax! I'll be gentle!" Miles said, his giggles getting louder as his hand made contact with Hobie's torso. Miles smirked at the way Hobie's body tensed up, and the slightest hint of a squeak made it's way past Hobie's closed lips. Miles slowly, and I mean slowly dragged his fingers along Hobie's ribs, the punk inhaling sharply as a result.

"Miles! Fuck- stop that!" Hobie yelped, the tiniest giggle slipping through his gritted teeth. Hobie's pleas were only met with a huge grin from Miles, who immediately capitalized off of that small giggle by pressing his fingers against Hobie's ribs and vibrating his fingers rapidly. In Miles' eyes, this was gentle, as he knew Hobie had a hell of a lot of resistance when it came to touch. Wether it be pain, or in this case, tickles.

"MAHAHAHAILES-! STAHAHAHAHAHAP- NAHAHAHAHAHAHA FAHAHAHAHACK-!" Hobie screeched, his attempt to squeal out a plea immediately replaced with more bouts of loud laughter when Miles decided it would be a good idea to use a small amount of his venom power to shock Hobie, the unbearably ticklish feeling traveling across Hobie's entire torso. Miles giggled and let up, allowing Hobie to actually breath. Miles snuck an extra pinch to his ribs, grinning at the small yelp that came out of the punk.

"Alright, I'm done. Don't want you getting hurt.. more than you already are.. you good?" Miles asked, Hobie responding with a shaky thumbs up. "Y-yeah.. 'm fine mate.. holy shihihit." Hobie chuckled, the tingly feeling from the venom still present. Throughout the entire ordeal, Hobie's body changed colour completely, going from gray with those hints of yellow (which Miles was now suspecting ment Hobie was embarrassed about something), to a full blown pink, with occasional flashes of the familiar yellow colour here and there.

Miles chuckled and stood up, going to the kitchen to get Hobie some water. Miles quickly returned, offering the water to Hobie, who drank it so fast you'd be convinced there was nothing in the cup in the first place.

"Thanks Miles.. you know, for tendin' to my injuries and whatever. 'S nice of you." Hobie said, sighing as he let out one final giggle. Miles smiled, loving the fact that he left a positive impact on Hobie's well-being. "Well, I feel like it's kind of.. in my nature to care about the people I love, so you're welcome." Miles replied, his smile growing a bit wider.

"Hey, you wanna watch a movie?" Miles suddenly asked, looking at Hobie.

"Sure, what're you thinkin' of?"

And so Hobie and Miles lazily draped their bodies over Hobie's semi-comfortable couch, watching a movie on some probably illegal website. Hobie couldn't shake the small smile that was on his face, the knowing that Miles, and all of his friends for that matter, would be there for him making him feel all warm inside. Miles caught a quick glimpse of Hobie, seeing that the pink colour on Hobie's body got a bit brighter.

And personally, Miles wouldn't have it any other way.

[myreia]

Sketches of Times Lost

Day 14: Telling

artoirel gives aymeric some undesirable advice. aymeric & artoirel, background aymeric x wol mentions. set during/post-heavensward patches. written for ffxivwrite2024. rated: teen 1600 words ao3 link

Song and laughter fill the air, and yet Aymeric cannot shift the heavy weight in his heart.

He lingers on the upper floor balcony overlooking the grand ballroom, watching the festivities play out below. House Durendaire has made every effort to impress tonight. Every corner of the manor has been bedecked with impressive topiaries and sculptures, and the faded walls are hung with banners. Floral garlands wrap around the pillars and decorate the entryways, adding a vibrancy to the hall that is reminiscent of spring and everlasting youth. Even a nod to Jannequinard’s astrologians makes an appearance with celestial ornaments interspersed between the crystal chandeliers. The most talented Eorzean musicians and bards were hired to entertain, and even a celebrated portraitist sits in the corner, capturing the events with swift strokes of his brush.

Too much, perhaps, to celebrate the marriage of a third cousin. But this is the first High House wedding since the end of the war, and there is more to celebrate here than simple matrimony.

Aymeric sighs and folds his hands together, leaning them against the balustrade. Below, Aureia cuts a striking appearance, her scarlet dress immediately recognizable amongst the sea of muted darks preferred by the older generations and the gentle pastels favoured by the young. She had been presented with a number of different gowns, including one of Borel blue, but she was keen to select something that spoke to her and not the sensible option. Silver sparkles at her throat and from her ears, and small ornaments scattered through her midnight hair, glistening in the ballroom lights like stars. She loiters on the edge of the dance floor, happy to watch, keen to keep her distance, and anything but a wallflower. Though she has declined every invitation to dance, the highborn youth flock to her regardless, hoping that one of them may get lucky.

There was a time when she may have snapped and them and stalked away, but now she accepts the curious looks and eager admirers with a smile and a nod and polite conversation. The confidence she exudes is magnetic. She has always had it, along with a certain wry charm, but now she has found her place in Ishgardian society—a saviour, a warrior, an outsider who walks the line between lowborn and high—it is even stronger. Few can bring themselves to look away from her.

He cannot blame them. He can’t look away himself.

“Skulking about in the shadows, are we? I never thought I’d see the day Ishgard’s most eligible bachelor would distance himself from the finest social event of the season.”

His lips twitch, holding back a reserved smile. “Skulking is hardly the word I would use,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “And I have not been an eligible bachelor for some time.”

Artoirel laughs, merry from the bliss of wine, and crosses the balcony to join him. “A jest, my friend,” he replies smoothly. “For as long as I have known you, you have never been one to skulk. Out of character for a man who makes public speaking a part of his daily life—or one so hellsbent on reform. And as for eligible bachelor, well…”

“That would be you, good sir, not I. How many ladies have caught your eye this evening?”

“None, for I’m afraid they are all to enchanted by your beloved below to pay much attention to me.”

He pauses, setting his wine down on a nearby table, and leans his back against the balustrade. “Aymeric,” he says slowly, lowering his voice. “Have you asked her to dance?”

“No.”

“Will you?”

Aymeric pauses. Below, Aureia smiles and laughs, touching the arm of a Manseauguel youth affectionately. Despite her refusal to participate in the dancing, she is already attracting a few glares from the surrounding matriarchs and matrons. Victoirelle, the Durendaire bride, sails past in the arms of her new wife, pink-cheeked and giddy, oblivious to all else. At least she is content. Her mother, however, is glaring daggers at Aureia and her accidental entourage.

His brow furrows. He can already feel the oncoming headache when he receives a complaint tomorrow that the Warrior of Light outshone the bride on purpose. Many of the older lords and ladies are not fond of her and what she has come to represent. Foreigner aside, seeing a half-Elezen celebrated in high society has been taken as a personal affront by some. Hilda Ware they can swallow, so long as she remains her gruff and coarse self, firmly on the outskirts and removed from societal events. But Aureia Malathar is a force to be reckoned with, and one that has forced them to confront a number of uncomfortable truths.

“You should ask her to dance, Aymeric,” Artoirel continues. “It would be the proper thing.”

“It may surprise you to learn this, but I have more on my mind than propriety.”

“My friend, how many months now has she been your paramour? Courtship has a natural conclusion; stave it off for too long and your intentions become suspect. Do what you will with your own propriety, but at the very least, respect hers.”

Aymeric stills, gnawing discomfort growing in the pit of his stomach. Slowly, he draws his gaze away from Aureia and raises his head, looking Artoirel in the eye. “We’re not speaking about dancing, are we, my friend?”

“No. I suppose we’re not.”

He exhales a long breath. “Then would you kindly speak plainly?” he says coolly. “I spend my days untangling the distinction between the said and unsaid, I would rather not do so among those I trust. Though I suppose whatever point it is you wish to make, you required two full glasses of wine to steel yourself before raising it with me.”

His heart pangs with fleeting guilt the moment the words leave his mouth. He should not needle Artoirel this way—especially not when drink is involved—but this conversation has quickly turned suffocating. He likes to think himself a patient man, but even patient men have their limits.

His only wish is that it was not happening here and now.

“Then I will be plain,” Artoirel says, equally cool. “Why have you not asked her to marry you?”

“I do not see why that is of any importance. My private life is my own.”

“Your private life is the concern of all Ishgard, as it is for all the lords of the High Houses. Until the matter of heirs and governance no longer depends on noble birth, this is the way of it.”

Aymeric’s mouth curves with distaste. “We are only burdened by the way of it if we choose it,” he says darkly. “Perhaps I should pass a decree unravelling these traditions. No more heirs, no more Houses.”

Artoirel pauses. “Come now. I know you do not mean that.”

“Perhaps I do. Perhaps I don’t.” Aymeric casts an eye out across the ballroom. There is no sign of a scarlet dress. “Regardless of whether I speak in jest or not, the sentiment remains the same. I will not ask Aureia to marry me simply because a handful of viscounts and barons are discomforted by the idea that she is my lover.”

“It is not she who makes them discomforted—”

“Please, Artoirel, I’m well aware of the snide remarks and gossip made behind closed doors—”

“They are discomforted by you.” He meets Aymeric’s eyes and folds his arms across his chest, his jaw set. There is no trace of his earlier intoxication. “You know what you have come to represent. The weight your name carries, for high and lowborn both. If the worst comes to pass, what then? Do you wish the legacy you have so painstakingly built tarnished because you chose to spite tradition?”

Aymeric stills, the words twisting in his gut like a knife. “I would appreciate if you did not refer to such matters as the worst that comes to past, Artoirel,” he says quietly.

He glances away. “It is a matter that must be considered.”

“Bastard or not, any child of mine would be loved.”

“If that is what you truly believe, then ask her to marry you.”

“Are you recommending or are you telling?”

“Neither. Counselling.”

“Words that could have been spoken by your father.”

“He is wise.” Artoirel pauses, and for a moment a faded, distant look passes across his face. “And, as you know, he has personal insights into such matters—”

Aymeric grimaces. “He was adulterous. His infidelity is not comparable to Aureia and myself.”

“Even so, you would do well to listen to him. He means well, and he cares for both you and Mistress Malathar greatly.”

I know. And yet somehow that makes it all the worse. No matter how well-intentioned he is, Count Edmont is not omniscient. Would his advice change if he knew the truth? That he has asked Aureia to marry him on more than one occasion, and she has declined each time? That no matter how much she loves him, this is the one thing on which she will not change her mind.

No matter how much she loves him, marriage is not for her.

“I will listen to your father when he chooses to speak to me himself, Artoirel,” Aymeric says firmly, pushing away from the balustrade. “And not when he chooses to send you as a messenger to leverage our friendship as a bargaining tool.”

It is not like him to leave a conversation abruptly—but admittedly he has not been feeling much like himself of late.