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penascigarette · 3 days ago

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Smooth Operator Ch 1. A New Client ➴ Joel Miller x f!phone sex operator

➴wc: 6.7k | summary: You unexpectedly find yourself drawn to a new client during a late-night call, who ignites a surprising wave of desire within you. As you engage in a steamy conversation, you realize this encounter is unlike any you've had before, leaving you eager for more and questioning the boundaries of your professional life.

➴warnings: mdni, phone sex, mxm phone sex, fxm phone sex, m&f masterbation lots of dirty talking, use of princess, shitty moodboard

➴an: hi! i hope you enjoy the first chapter of the first fic I have ever posted. if I have missed any warnings please let me know. feedback is super appreciated! now I will go run and hide lol. and a big tysm to @saradika-graphics for making such lovely dividers!

masterlist | series masterlist

You love sleeping, and just as passionately, you love your bed. Whenever you wake up in the morning, you spend at least ten minutes wrapped up in your duvet, savoring the warmth and comfort as you tease yourself with the idea of a nap.

This morning is no different. The sun shines outside, making your dark purple curtains look lighter than they actually are. If you open your eyes, you know you'll see dust particles floating through the air.

You take a deep breath through your nose and immediately wish you'd opened your windows to let in some fresh air. But you never do, even though you think about it every morning. It's too risky. Open windows are an open invitation to your worst fear—spiders.

Just the thought of their tiny, hairy bodies and long, wiggly legs sends a shiver down your spine. You pull the duvet tighter around your shoulders, practically imagining the creepy crawlies on your skin.

And of course, that's when your roommate, Elliot, decides it’s the perfect time to tickle your ear with one of his long, pink, kinky feathers—used for who-knows-what.

You scream, jump, and scramble off the bed like it’s suddenly caught fire. Your eyes—probably bloodshot with dark bags underneath—narrow at the grinning culprit, who is currently doubled over in a fit of laughter on the right side of your king-sized bed.

“What the fuck,” you huff, too tired to find any humor in this. You were so warm and cozy, and now that feeling is ruined for the next twenty-four hours. “You’re a real dick, you know that?”

“Y-your face!” he chokes out between giggles. He looks far too fresh-faced for someone who’s just rolled out of bed. Still in his pajamas, his messy hair—short on the sides with a wave on top—looks like it hasn’t seen a brush this morning.

“It's not funny!” you argue, your voice rising over the sound of his laughter. You’re this close to stomping your foot at him. “I thought you were a spider!” Standing there in nothing but pink pajama bottoms and a black strap top, your skin prickles with goosebumps. Yet again, you curse him for ruining your warm, safe burrito.

That only makes him laugh harder. It’s hard to believe this man-child is twenty-eight years old when he acts less than half his age most of the time.

At the sound of his snort, you feel your lips twitch against your will. No, you’re pissed at him—there’s no way he’s going to make you laugh. But very quickly, you’re losing the battle. Have you ever tried not laughing with someone who has an impossibly contagious laugh? It’s damn near impossible.

“Whatever!” you say, rolling your eyes as a reluctant smile finally breaks across your face. You cross your arms over your chest, trying to look stern, but Elliot knows he’s won this round

“It’s getting late,” he says, still chuckling. His green eyes are watery from laughing, making them sparkle as he grins at you. Rolling onto his left side, he props his head up with one hand—the one holding the feather—while his other hand runs through his sandy-brown hair, slicking it back. “And you slept through your alarms again, so I thought I’d help you out.”

Damn, have you really? It wouldn’t be the first time. Waking you is like trying to wake the dead.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Fair enough, he had to wake you, but—“Did you have to use your kinky, sex feather...thing?” You shiver in disgust. “Who knows where that’s been.”

He shrugs innocently, twirling the offending object between his fingers. “Nowhere gross...” His eyes flick up to yours, and he smiles once more. “Only up Danny’s ass.”

Your eyes widen, and you splutter. “What? Oh, my god—Jesus, that’s just—” You gag in the back of your throat. “You said it hadn’t been anywhere gross!”

He laughs again, sitting up. “I was telling the truth. Danny’s ass was far from gross.” A faraway look crosses his face. “It was heaven,” he muses wistfully before frowning. “God, I miss him.”

“Oh, honey,” you soften immediately, making your way to the bed and crawling toward Elliot to offer some comfort.

You know Danny and Elliot’s breakup was hard on him. He’d been completely in love with that man and was about to ask him to move in—with you both—when Danny decided to end the year-and-a-half relationship. It just wasn’t working was his excuse, but Elliot later found out the truth when Danny updated his Facebook page: he’d left Elliot for someone else.

“He didn’t deserve you,” you say, trying to make him feel better as you drape an arm around his shoulders. Sitting back on your heels, you add, “He was a dick for what he did. You shouldn’t be sad. He’s the one who lost someone who loved him. The only thing you lost was—”

“A twat-waffle who didn’t deserve me, I know,” he cuts you off, reciting your usual line before you can finish. You’ve said it enough times in the past three months since the breakup that he knows it by heart. “Thanks for trying to make me feel better, but...doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.”

“I know,” you respond quietly, your thoughts drifting to your own breakup. It’s been over a year now, but the pain still lingers. Your ex had been your first boyfriend—hell, your first everything. You’d met when you were seventeen, and you moved in with him before your next birthday. Everything happened so fast, and you didn’t see the cracks until it was too late. “But we have each other, right?” you say, giving Elliot a little shake.

He glances at you, his expression vulnerable. Big eyes, plucked thin eyebrows, a slight bump on his nose from when a bully broke it in his teens, full lips, high cheekbones, and when he smiles, dimples form on his cheeks.

“Yeah?” he replies, hopeful. “Even if I wake you up with a feather that’s been up my ex’s ass?”

You roll your eyes, pulling away to thump him on the arm. “Fucker,” you mutter as he starts giggling all over again. “Remind me why I love you?”

Grinning, he reaches into the pocket of his pajama shorts and pulls out his phone. "Because I'm adorable," he answers distractedly as he stares at the screen. "Oh, my first caller of the day! And it's Simon," he whispers the last part to you as if Simon could hear. "He sounds like a whale when he comes, but boy, does he have a gorgeous sex voice," he informs you. You snort as he accepts the call. "Why hello there, lover."

While Elliot makes himself comfortable against your pillows, you climb off the bed and head toward your wardrobe. You already have your outfit in mind—a pair of leggings and a plain white shirt.

"Mmm, that sounds so sexy, baby," you hear Elliot purr in the background, and you smile, shaking your head. You can’t imagine what people would think about you being in the same room as your guy roommate while he talks dirty to one of your clients, meanwhile, you're getting changed in the corner.

It’s a strange situation, to say the least.

As you remove your shirt with your back turned to Elliot, you can’t help but listen in to the conversation.

"I'd love to touch your nipples," Elliot hums behind you, getting into character. You know how much he loves talking dirty to guys. It’s a turn-on for him. Unlike you, who only really enjoys sex if it’s with someone you love. Elliot is way more adventurous and has had more one-night stands than you can count. "I'd love to stroke them, caress them, lick them. . .”

"Suck them," you add when you hear Elliot hesitate. You pull the straps of your bra up your arms and hook it at the back.

“Oh, and suck them," Elliot says as you pull your top on.

Since Elliot is still fairly new to this, he needs help sometimes. His situation had been very similar to yours—a broken-up relationship, no job, and forced to move back in with his mum until someone came along and gave him hope. For Elliot, that person was you. For you, that person was your boss, Jane.

Elliot's voice lowers as he talks to his client. "Your body is so pretty, honey. I can't wait to trace my tongue up and down your belly, and then start going lower and lower until I reach your—”

You cough quietly to yourself, trying to hide your smile as you change into your leggings and slip on a pair of fluffy pink socks. You’ve heard Elliot talk dirty loads of times, and he’s heard you talk dirty just as many. Part of training him was him having to listen in on your conversations, and then you monitoring his. Neither of you gets embarrassed around it anymore. It’s more amusing, to be completely honest.

Deciding to leave Elliot to it, you grab your phone off your bedside cabinet and quietly tiptoe to the door. Before you leave, you look over to Elliot and mouth, Coffee?

He nods enthusiastically at you and mouths back, Yes, please!

You’re halfway down the steps when you rub your eye and feel the crumbly sensation of mascara under your fingertip. You’ve forgotten to take your makeup off the night before. You curse to yourself before heading back upstairs to fetch a makeup wipe.

When you reach your room once more, Elliot looks at you questioningly before he notices your face. His lips curl into his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. You roll your eyes and put your middle finger up at him before heading over to your dresser, which sits directly opposite your bed. You open the top drawer and feel through the ridiculous amount of makeup and beauty products you’ve collected over time. As your fingers search, your eyes stare forward at your flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. You can see Elliot's reflection.

"God, you feel so tight around me," Elliot is telling his customer, and you bite your lip in an attempt not to laugh. Finally, your fingers grip the packet of wipes, and you pull them free. "I'm gonna come inside of your ass so damn hard—," Elliot is cut off by a muffled roar, and you turn to look at him questioningly.

He is still sitting on your bed, back against the pillows with one hand holding the phone far away from his ear. He has an uncomfortable look on his face, and it’s then you realize the noise has come from the phone. Or, more accurately, the noise is the loud, animal-like groans of a man coming hard.

Oh my god," you whisper to him quietly, now understanding what Elliot had meant by Simon sounding like a whale when he came.

Elliot uses his other hand to cover the bottom half of the phone, preventing Simon from hearing you speak. "Every. Damn. Time," he replies just as quietly, looking so serious it makes you giggle. He cracks his own smile before bringing the phone back to his ear. "Oh, that sounded like a good one, baby."

You’re glad Simon isn’t one of your callers because you’re not sure you’d be able to stay professional with that sound in your ear. You take care of your makeup before finally getting started on coffee.

Your living room and kitchen are all in one room. The only thing separating the rooms is the counter you eat at. Silver stools with black padded seats sit underneath, four of them for when you have guests over.

You walk past the L-shaped sofa and the counter. Once the coffee is on, you get started on breakfast. You decide on some cheesy, ham-scrambled eggs. Just as you start mixing the ingredients, your phone vibrates where you’ve placed it on the counter. You lean over far enough to see the screen. When no name appears, only a number, you figure it must be a new client since you save existing clients in your phone book.

You accept the call and bring it to your ear. "Hey there," you purr in your sexy voice. You never thought you had one until Elliot pointed it out to you. According to him, it’s a hot one too. "Tell me, gorgeous, what’s your name?"

"Josh." He’s breathing heavily, sounding as if he’s already started the party without you. "I-I'm new to all this…phone stuff," he informs you.

"That's fine, Josh," you say with a slight smile. "My name's Angel, and I’m going to take care of you, all right?" Your name isn’t Angel, but for safety reasons, you’re Angel as far as your customers know. And yes, you’re well aware of how clichéd it is.

"Yes," he tells you, his voice rougher than before. He’s probably getting more excited. Now, all you need to do is find out what he likes.

"Tell me, honey, you like it hard or soft, hm?" you question just as Elliot’s footsteps sound on the stairs.

"God. Hard. I like it hard," Josh answers. "I like it when you take control, with a little pain. Yeah, I like that a lot." In the background, you can hear the sound of his hand working his dick. At least you know he’s enjoying himself.

"Okay, Josh," you nod to yourself, knowing exactly where to go from here. Elliot appears in front of you, his lips forming an 'o' shape when he sees you’re with a client. You nod your head toward the food you’ve been preparing, signaling him to take over as you move away from the counter and toward the living area. Elliot passes you on the way, his hand patting you on the shoulder.

You flop over the arm of the chair and onto the sofa, landing with a bounce on your back. "The first thing I want you to do is to strip for me, now," you order him, reaching toward the coffee table when you spot a magazine there. You bring it over to you and open it. "Are you naked yet?"

"Almost," he practically gasps to you. You can hear some more shuffling, and then he's telling you, "Yes, mistress, I'm naked."

Mistress? You sigh internally. You seriously can't believe how many men are into the whole dominatrix kink. In the beginning, it was kind of fun, but by now, it’s getting pretty old.

Mentally awakening your inner dom, you relax further into the sofa and flip through the magazine. "Good boy," you coo, finding a 20 Sex Tips for Women article. Huh, how fitting. "Now, here's what I want you to do, and you better listen closely, pet."

The call ends up lasting 2 minutes and 28 seconds. Not bad for a newbie.

________

“I might have a date this weekend," Elliot mentions casually, making you glance over the top of your book at him, eyebrows raised.

A few hours have passed since breakfast, and you've had at least seven phone calls since. The two of you are relaxing in the living room, you on one side of your L-shaped sofa and Elliot on the other.

"And why is this the first I'm hearing of it?" you respond, feeling rather hurt. You tell each other everything. You know the penis size of every boyfriend he's had. How can he share that information so easily yet let something like a date stay secret?

He cringes, and you just know you're not going to like what's coming next. "Because..." he hesitates, takes a deep breath, and rushes out, "BecauseitswithDanny." He says it so fast it almost doesn't register, but the name Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.

"What!?" you exclaim, book falling forgotten onto the floor as you sit up. You're completely shocked, and you imagine your expression says everything before you even open your mouth. "How can you—why would you want to after what he did?" You can't understand what's going through Elliot's head, but you seriously want to knock some sense into him.

"I tried hinting to you this morning!" Elliot tells you, sitting up. The magazine he'd been reading earlier falls onto his lap, his attention now completely on you. "I told you I missed him!"

You scoff at that. "A hint is, 'Oh, by the way, I'm thinking of going on a date with my ex.' Not, 'I'm going to tickle you with Danny's ass-feather, complain about missing him, and hope that you get the hint that I'm going out with him this weekend despite the fact he broke my heart!'" You take a deep breath, oxygen running low after that rant. "Look, I know it's none of my business—"

"Of course it's your business. You're my best friend."

"—I just don't want you to get hurt," you continue as you both stare at each other with similar expressions. You're both desperate for the other to understand how you're feeling without wanting to cause any upset. "I love you, honey...and it destroyed you when he left."

"He said he's sorry," Elliot tells you quietly, making you realize just how much they've been talking. A pang of hurt goes through your heart, knowing that Elliot felt like he couldn't talk to you about this. "He said it was a mistake, one he wouldn't make again. But I don't want to jump back into things so...I told him we'll start slow."

"Well," you nod slightly. "That's something, I guess." It comforts you to know that he isn't rushing into the relationship again. Maybe, if they start from scratch, it could work this time. Unfortunately, your gut tells you different. "I'm going to be honest with you, okay?"

Elliot gives you a lopsided smile, causing a single dimple to form on his cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

You smile back for a moment before turning serious again. "I think...you're thinking with your heart and not with your head," you tell him softly. "I think you're in love with him, and you miss him, and you're not thinking rationally about this. Which I totally understand, honey. You love him; I know you can't help that. I just worry that Danny knows how you feel about him, and he's going to use it to his advantage." You watch Elliot's expression closely; he's nodding, letting you know he's listening.

You give your lip a quick nibble before continuing. "But if this is something you feel like you need to do, then I'll support you, you know that."

"Thanks, babe," he responds sincerely, but his eyes are sad. "You're right. I know you're right, but...my heart wants this so damn badly."

"What's your gut telling you to do?" you ask him curiously. You’ve always believed in following your instincts.

"Run," he answers with a painful laugh. "Run and don't look back because he's only doing this as a rebound."

You frown at the information. "Rebound?"

Elliot nods, tears filling his eyes. He crosses his legs underneath him, which surprises you given how skinny his jeans are. One arm goes to the back of the sofa while the other runs through his slick-backed hair. He pulls his lips into his mouth for a moment, a habit of his, before telling you, "Him and Voldemort broke up. Danny says he broke it off because he misses me, but I checked Voldemort's page, and it looks like he's gone and gotten himself a new guy."

You hold back a snort at his nickname for Gary. Voldemort. It suits him. From Elliot's information, you're guessing that Danny is only after a rebound, but Elliot doesn't want to admit it because he still wants to be with Danny.

"Honey..." you sigh, scooting across the sofa so you can give Elliot a cuddle. He immediately returns the gesture but stays seated, whereas you lean up on your knees, making you higher than him. You rest your head on top of his, your arms around his neck. You know you don't need to say anything. Elliot knows he's burying his head in the sand. You think he just needs to find out the hard way; otherwise, he'd always regret not trying.

"I'm here for you," you assure him. This is something he needs to do, and you can't protect him from it, no matter how much you want to.

"Thank you," he tells you tearfully. You can hear how upset he is, but he's trying to hold it back. You squeeze him tighter, wishing you could take away all his pain. "You're the best friend a guy could ask for."

Your lips curve at that. "I know," you joke because really, you're not that big-headed. "Now," you say as you pull away but keep your arms around his neck. "What do you say we turn our phones off for a while, get a Chinese, and watch some crappy chick flicks?"

His eyes are bloodshot and wet with tears, but the smile he gives you is genuine happiness. And that you completely understand because food makes you feel the same way. "I love you so much."

The film you end up watching is beyond cheesy, but the humor is awesome, and you find yourself giggling along. Your Chinese food is now in your overly-stuffed belly, and the only things left are the containers sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

You sit side-by-side with Elliot, shoulders touching, a leopard-print blanket draped over your laps. Both of you ordered a beer with the takeaway. It isn’t enough to get you drunk, but that wasn’t the plan since you need to turn your phones back on for work later.

By the time the film ends, Elliot seems to be in a much better mood. Hopefully, he’ll stay that way for the next few hours.

“Gosh,” Elliot starts, reaching behind the sofa to the side table where a lamp sits. He switches it on, making you both blink against the sudden brightness. “I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

“Same,” you say, squinting as your eyes adjust. Your muscles feel cramped, so you throw off the blanket and stretch. As you straighten your body, you begin to slide off the sofa but don’t bother stopping it. You let yourself slip onto the floor.

With the coffee table in the way, you have to arrange yourself so you’re lying between the sofa and the table. The wooden flooring is cold against your right arm, while the left side of your body enjoys the comfort of the fur rug.

“Weirdo,” Elliot snorts from above.

“Don’t judge,” you respond, letting out a yawn. Watching films always makes you tired. Maybe it strains your eyes. The floor is oddly tempting right now—so cozy—or maybe Elliot is right, and you’re just a weirdo.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Elliot speaks again, his foot nudging your side. “Can’t sleep now. We’ve got horny customers waiting.”

It’s only then you realize you’ve closed your eyes. “I’m up,” you mumble, forcing yourself to sit upright. The smell of Chinese food still lingers in the air. It was absolutely delicious, but your stomach protests now, begging you not to even inhale another whiff of it. You pat your belly proudly, knowing it did a good job handling the feast.

“Good,” Elliot says. “We gotta get to work.”

Neither of you moves.

“For fuck’s sake,” Elliot sighs after a moment, making you crack a smile. “It’s so much effort. I hate... effort,” he says, spitting the word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

You tilt your head to look at him better. “Just think about all those handsome, horny men stroking their dicks, waiting for you to—”

“I’m up!” Elliot exclaims, jumping to his feet. His hands dive into his pockets as you laugh loudly. “Christ, where’s my phone? My customers need me!” He’s being overly dramatic on purpose, and it makes you giggle even harder.

“It’s not funny!” he tells you, though he’s trying his hardest not to smile. “Who’s going to give those guys their orgasms? This is a serious situation!”

You giggle again, but then you try to put on a straight face. “You’re right. There could be a riot!” you gasp dramatically. “I’ll get on the phone to the prime minister right away!”

“And the president!” Elliot chimes in, but then you make eye contact, and the two of you burst into laughter. Sure, you can act pretty silly sometimes, but it’s healthy. At this age, you feel more mature than most people your age, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be childish once in a while.

Once you both calm down, you know playtime is over. It’s really time to get to work. Sighing, you take Elliot’s hand when he offers it to you, and he easily pulls you up from the floor.

“Thanks, kid,” you tell him, standing on your tiptoes to ruffle his hair. You know he hates when you do that.

He lets out a high-pitched squeak and backs away. “You know my rules!”

“No one touches the hair,” you recite dutifully.

“Yes!” he says, rolling his eyes. “And yet you always forget. And what do you mean ‘kid’? I’m older than you!”

“Yes, well, mentally you’re the age of ten, so…”

“Bitch,” he says, lightly punching your arm, and you laugh.

“Is that all you’ve got?” you tease.

He plants his hands on his hips, cocking a hip at you and raising an eyebrow. “Honey, you can’t handle what I’ve got.”

“I’m heading upstairs. Gonna talk dirty to some dudes, grab a shower, change into my pajamas, get some more horny people off, read a book, then go to bed.”

Elliot takes the phone and nods. “Sounds like a damn good plan,” he says, holding up his hand.

You smile and give him a high-five.

One of the hardest parts of your job is keeping things fresh and coming up with new ideas. That’s why you love working with Elliot. He’s a guy; he knows what men like, so whenever you feel like you need something different, he’s your go-to.

New customers are always the easiest to please. No matter what you say, it’s fresh to them. Exciting. It’s your recurring customers who require more effort. There are only so many ways to describe a blowjob before it starts feeling repetitive. When you get that feeling of déjà vu, you worry your client does too.

Oh, and trying to figure out what a guy likes? That’s another challenge. Sometimes, it feels like a seriously fucked-up game of I-Spy.

“I spy with my little eye…” Imaginary-you says in a hopeful voice. “A foot fetish? No? Fuck.” You’re rocking back and forth now, losing hope. “I spy with my little—oh, I know! Voyeurism?” you practically beg, thinking about pulling your brains out with a spoon if this doesn’t work. “…Golden showers?”

Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but you get the point. It’s frustrating, especially when the client is shy and doesn’t know what they like themselves.

Deciding you’re getting cranky—probably because you’re tired—you decide to finish half an hour early tonight. You shouldn’t, especially after already losing a few hours of work earlier, but you’ve made enough money to cover your half of rent and bills this month. You’ve still got a week to earn more for food and anything else you need.

So yeah, you’ll finish early.

Yawning, you pull the covers out from underneath your ass before throwing them over yourself. You’re already in your pajamas—a loose pair of pink shorts and a white strap top—and your book sits next to you, waiting to be read.

But just as you pick up your phone, ready to turn it off, a new number flashes on the screen. You stare at it for a moment, wondering if it’s worth leaving. The problem is, with it being a new customer, leaving a bad impression could mean they wouldn’t come back.

“Damn,” you mutter under your breath, knowing the professional businesswoman in you can’t risk losing what might end up being a recurring customer. As far as you know, this phone call could change your career. You snort at that. Highly unlikely, but it’s going to bring in extra money, which is a good enough reason. “Just this last one, then I’m going to bed,” you tell yourself.

You place the earphones back into your ears and press the green button on your touchscreen. “Hey there, handsome.” There’s a pause, and you briefly wonder if they’ve decided to hang up when he finally speaks.

“Hey,” he responds simply, sounding kind of awkward.

“You caught me just in time,” you say naughtily.

“Oh?” he sounds intrigued, though the awkwardness remains. He’s probably just shy or clueless about what to do. “Why is that?”

For a moment, you’re taken aback by how much you’re attracted to his voice. That’s never happened to you before, and he’s barely said five words. Masculine, educated, and gruff. Swoon.

“Um...” You try to get back into character while scolding yourself. The conversation has only just started; you can’t screw it up already. Get your head in the game, girl. “Because I’m wet and needing a man to help me out.” Internally, you wince. That’s pretty weak considering how good you usually are at this.

He doesn’t seem to think so because he releases a sexy, “Shit. I—” He’s breathing heavily, and you wait for him to finish, sensing he has something else he wants to say. “I don’t know if this was a good idea,” he admits after a moment.

Fuck, you’re losing him, and you’re losing him fast. You need to think quickly if you want to keep him on the line. You don’t want to admit it, but your interest in this man goes beyond the money you’re earning from him. He’s ignited something in you. “Wait! Please,” you breathe. “I—I’m so horny. I need you. Please? Just stroke your dick for me. I need it.” There you go; you knew you could do better.

“Damn it,” he hisses, and then there’s the sound of a belt buckle, and you know you’ve got him. “What’d you need, sweetie? Tell me,” he demands, and for the first time since doing this job, you feel a wave of lust hit you.

Swallowing in an attempt to bring moisture back to your dry mouth—it all seems to have headed south, if you know what you mean—you respond truthfully, “You.” Jesus, you shouldn’t be doing this, but before you can stop yourself, your left hand is slipping underneath your strap top and finding your breasts. “I need you, please—” You pause for a second. You don’t know if it will work, but if you’re right about him, this is going to go down a treat. For both him and for you. “—sir.”

And you’re right because he lets out a loud groan, making you squeeze your thighs together in response. Jesus, you haven’t wanted someone this badly in what feels like forever.

“Fuck, you’re going to be such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You’re already nodding before he finishes his sentence. “Yes, god, yes.” You move your right hand so it’s also caressing your breasts. In this moment, you completely love your headset, which allows you to talk and touch at the same time.

“Mm, you’re so obedient, baby,” he tells you, approval evident in his husky voice. “Tell me, Princess, tell me are your nipples hard?”

Your pussy clenches almost painfully, and you try to remind it to calm down because it’s only just started. “They’re hard. So hard they’re showing through my shirt.”

You’re getting so hazy with lust you’re not sure what to do with yourself, so you pinch your nipples roughly and almost cry out in frustration, knowing it would be so much better if he were doing it for you.

“Damn, that’s beautiful, sweetheart,” he tells you, and your belly does a funny flip. “You touchin’ them? Want you to roll them between your fingers. Not too hard, just enough pressure to leave you needing more.”

It’s not easy to admit, but you think he’s better at this than you are, and it crosses your mind that you should probably be paying him. “I already am,” you confess with a guilty laugh. “Your voice... it’s, uh, fucking hot.” You hesitate because you’re not sure if you can say that to him. It’s not very professional, but then you remind yourself that you’re only second-guessing it because you’re actually getting off on it.

"You that eager for me, princess?" he sounds pretty damn pleased with himself. "Tell me how it feels. You know, I'm stroking my dick to this. Getting hard over the noises you're making, and the pretty picture you're giving me."

The image of this man, who you are undoubtedly attracted to, stroking his hard cock over the thought of you pleasuring yourself drives you crazy. He seems so generous, something rare nowadays.

"It feels..." you breathe, trying to find the right words. "Like it's not enough. I need more. Christ." You throw your head back against your pillows, frustrated with yourself and the way you're acting. Completely unprofessional.

"Shh," he coos softly. "I've got you. I'm going to take care of you. Okay, princess?" He's so freaking good at this. You're practically shivering in anticipation of what he might say next. "I want you to get naked for me. And tell me, baby, you got any toys?"

"Um," you think about his question as you pull your strap top over your head. It gets caught on the earphone wire. "Wait a second." You quickly untangle yourself before placing the earphones back into your ears. Moving on to your shorts, you push them eagerly down your legs. "Yes, I have one of those little bullet vibrators."

"Good. I want you to get it for me, princess."

You bite your lip for a moment, feeling extremely dirty about what you're about to do. "Yes, sir..." you say before reaching toward your side cabinet and opening the bottom drawer. In an old, tiny, purple purse with a single zip sits the bullet. You take it out before getting comfortable on the bed once more. "I've got it."

He hums in approval. "Now, I'm more than happy to go slow, make this last, but I'm sensing that my girl wants to come hard and fast, am I right?"

You suck in an unsteady breath. Being called his girl really shouldn't make you feel as giddy as it does. Why and how does a complete stranger have such an effect on you? You're never one of those girls who fall for a man's charm easily. Yet here you are, swooning over a guy because he's good at talking dirty and has a sexy voice.

Apparently you were easier to seduce than you originally thought.

"Yes," you choke out, wondering if you'd wake up if you pinched yourself hard enough. You wouldn't try it, though, just in case you were dreaming. You really aren't ready for it to end. "God, yes."

"All right then," he chuckles, the sound warm. "I'll do what you want this time. Next time, what I say goes, okay, princess?"

Before you have a chance to respond, he's giving you more orders, and in no way are you complaining.

"I want you to spread your pretty little thighs for me, baby." His voice, and the way he's breathing, gives you the impression that he's getting just as excited as you are.

"Okay," you squeak rather embarrassingly. Cool air hits your most sensitive area as you do what he orders, your hands resting against the inside of your thighs, fingers clutching your vibrator as you wait impatiently for his instructions.

You have yet to turn the bullet on, but it already feels like your insides are vibrating.

"Now, take your hand and spread your pussy lips for me."

And there you go, once again speechless—and breathless—because of this man and his words. Seriously, he could do this job better than you. You have to admit, you're storing parts of this conversation away for both personal and professional use later on.

Your hands automatically do as he says, your body desperate for some kind of release. You feel overwhelmed and don't know where to start or what to do in order to relieve it. Thank God you have him to guide you; otherwise, you might combust. Then again, if he wasn't here, you wouldn't have this problem in the first place.

"Okay," you breathe, feeling more and more like a client than a sex line operator. But taking control is obviously something he enjoys, so who are you to put a stop to this? What’s the saying? ‘Customers are always right?’ Well, you absolutely, completely, one hundred percent agree!

"Stretch yourself out," he continues, his voice starting to strain. "Force your sexy little clit out of its hood. I don't want it hiding when you start fucking yourself. All right, princess?"

Fuckkk. Just when you think he can't possibly get any hotter, he goes and says that. Your pussy feels like it’s on fire; your clit is so swollen it hurts. You wouldn't be surprised if you came the second you put any pressure on your nub.

"Now," he continues. "Turn your bullet on and press it to your clit. You're not allowed to stop until your legs are shaking and you're calling out my name. Got it?" You can hear how hard he's pumping his dick now. For a moment, you feel guilty. Are you neglecting him? But then you remind yourself again that this is what he wants.

You know you're not going to last long. You're too excited. Not to mention, it’s been a while since you've spent some time with your right hand. You twist the top of your bullet, putting it on the highest speed. You know you're worked up enough to take it; usually, you start on low and build your way up because you're overly sensitive. Right now, you know it won’t be an issue.

The bullet starts to shake violently, but the noise is low, like a quiet buzzing. Your left hand holds yourself open, fingers forming a 'V' and spreading your lips as far as you can, just as he instructed.

You don’t need to tell him what you’re doing; the moment you press the bullet to yourself, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips. You’re right—you definitely won’t last long. The vibrations are intense, and you draw small circles on yourself, pushing yourself even closer to the edge.

“Damnit,” he hisses. You’re quickly learning it’s one of his favorite words. “You sound fucking sexy. Wish I could see you. Watch you,” he inhales sharply. He’s just as close as you are.

“What’s—” you attempt to speak but end up gasping instead. Wetness gathers below, soaking your entrance and trailing toward your clit. The added lubrication lets the bullet slide more freely around your nub, the sensation unbelievable. “What’s—”

“Princess?” he chokes, likely having the same problem as you.

So close now. So fucking close. You just need a little more. The rhythm is perfect, and you can hear him breathing in your ear, letting out the occasional groan. It’s too damn much, but you can’t let yourself go—not without— “What’s your name?”

"Joel."

"Fuck - Joel!"

You see stars, as cliché as it sounds. Your whole body breaks into spasms, your left hand falling to the sheets and gripping the fabric desperately. Your right hand forces the bullet between your slippery lips, and your thighs clamp around your hand. Incoherent words tumble from your mouth: “Oh god,” “Fuck,” and Joel’s name.

As you come back down to earth, you can hear that Joel barely followed two seconds behind.

“Damn it, Princess. You’re so fucking good. Sound so pretty. Done so well,” the words spill from his mouth like sweet wine. He probably isn’t even aware of them. The sound of him fisting his dick is irregular and off-beat. “Fuck. Damn. You’re such a good girl.”

You remove the bullet from yourself—if you leave it there any longer, it’s going to become painful—and let out a giggle. Your cheeks are flushed, your body buzzing with pleasure. Lightheaded and giddy, you think to yourself that this guy must be amazing in bed. “That was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah,” he laughs breathlessly. “You can say that again. I can’t believe I almost hung up.”

“That would have been bad,” you reply, wondering if your heart will slow down anytime soon. “Very, very bad.”

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, then pauses before adding, “Let me ask you something.”

“Go ahead.” You hesitate for only a moment. It’s unusual for clients to stick around afterward, but you’ve quickly realized this guy isn’t a normal caller.

“What’s your real name?” he asks. “No way is it ‘Angel.’” He snorts, finding your alias hilarious.

Is Angel that bad of a name? You think it’s kind of cool. The company is called Angels and Demons, with you being the Angel. Elliot’s alias is Daemon because it’s close to “demon” but sounds way better. When a customer calls, they get an automated voice instructing them to press the number for their chosen operator, complete with a brief description.

You’re losing your train of thought; you can’t give him your real name, can you? It’s against the rules. If Jane found out, she’d be pissed. She wouldn’t fire you, but her anger is almost as bad. With the image of facing her wrath in mind, you tell Joel, “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Your tone is regretful because you’d really like to tell him. “My boss would…it’s against the rules.”

“Ah,” he responds, masking the disappointment. “It’s all right. I understand.”

“Sorry,” you apologize again, hating the idea of letting him down, especially after how amazing he just made you feel.

"Seriously, Princess, it’s fine,” he reassures you, easing the guilt. “I had a really good time tonight. You can bet I’ll be expecting a repeat tomorrow.” You just know that if you could see him right now, his eyes would sparkle with mischief.

Your pussy throbs again just thinking about it. God, he makes you insatiable. “I’m really, really looking forward to it,” you tell him honestly.

“Me too.” There’s a brief pause, then, “Goodnight, Princess.”

“Goodnight, Joel.” Hanging up the phone, you place it against your lips, letting everything sink in. Alone with your thoughts, you can’t believe you just had full-blown phone sex with a client. It’s so unlike you. It’s more like something Elliot would do. Speaking of…

“Elliot, you won’t believe what just happened!” you shout at the top of your lungs.

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel x reader

510 notes · View notes

puppym3 · 2 days ago

Text

❤ SKZ reaction to you with baby fever! ❤

MDNI 18+

wc: 23.4k (about 5k each)

genre: fluff, humor, smut

warnings: a lot of baby-making, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, very steamy, oral (f + m rec), choking, marking, daddy energy, some switch vibes from some, dom member mostly, breeding kink?, we dunno if it was successful!, don't recreate at home, (please let me know if i missed any)

a/n: i was tired of starving you guys so i just made 8 individual fics for all of them! hope you enjoy <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Bang Chan :

The soft hum of the TV played in the background as you nestled into Bang Chan’s side, his arm draped lazily around your shoulders. His warmth seeped into you, his scent, clean and familiar, grounding you in the moment. The glow from the screen illuminated his profile, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the faint scrunch of concentration on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He didn’t have to try; even here, in worn-out sweatpants and a hoodie, he exuded that quiet strength and warmth that made you fall for him every day.

Your heart tightened as you watched him, the weight of the thought you’d been holding in for months pressing heavily on your chest. Two years of marriage had passed in a blissful blur, filled with laughter, love, and late-night talks. But there was something you wanted, something you’d dreamed of every time you saw him interacting with kids, the way they lit up in his presence. You wanted a family with him. You wanted to see his kind eyes reflected in someone small, to hear his laughter echo through your home in a way that belonged entirely to the two of you.

But every time you imagined telling him, your courage faltered. What if he wasn’t ready? What if he didn’t want that yet? The fear of disrupting the perfect harmony you had kept you silent, until tonight.

You shifted slightly in his hold, your fingers nervously twisting the hem of your shirt. The words were bubbling at the edge of your tongue, and your heart raced like a drumbeat, loud and insistent. “Chan?” you murmured, barely louder than the TV.

“Hmm?” His response was distracted, his thumb still swiping on the screen as he hummed softly under his breath. Even that small sound sent warmth curling through you.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” you started, voice hesitant but determined.

That got his attention. He immediately set his phone down on the armrest and turned to you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. Concern flickered across his face, and he tilted his head slightly, his brows knitting together. “Yeah? What’s up?” His voice was gentle, grounding you in the safe space he always provided.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. The words felt heavy, like if you said them, there was no taking them back. But you’d held them in for so long, and if you didn’t say them now, you weren’t sure when you’d find the courage again.

“I’ve been thinking about us,” you said slowly, glancing down at your lap where your fingers twisted together nervously. “About what’s next for us.”

His expression softened, his body shifting as he turned fully toward you. He rested a hand on your knee, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin. “Okay,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Talk to me, love. What’s on your mind?”

The weight of his gaze made your cheeks flush, but his touch grounded you. You glanced up, meeting his eyes, and took a deep breath. “What if… what if we started trying? For a baby, I mean.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His hand stilled on your knee, his eyes widening ever so slightly as your words sank in. He blinked at you, his lips parting as though to speak, but no sound came out. You watched as the realization hit him, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“A baby?” he finally managed, his voice cracking slightly on the word.

You nodded, a wave of relief washing over you now that it was out in the open. “Yeah,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush. “I know it’s a big step, and I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. And I just… I think you’d be an amazing dad, Chan. I really do.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he couldn’t quite find the words. Then he let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his messy curls. “Wow,” he said softly, his voice tinged with disbelief. “That’s… wow.” He shook his head, a nervous grin spreading across his face. “You really think I’d be a good dad?”

“Of course,” you said, your voice steady with conviction. “You’re patient, kind, and thoughtful. And you’re so good with kids, Chan. They adore you.”

His blush deepened, and he let out a groan, burying his face in his hands. “Stop it. You’re embarrassing me.”

You laughed, reaching out to gently tug his hands away from his face. “You’re cute when you’re flustered,” you teased, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He huffed, though his lips twitched into a smile. “You can’t just drop something like that on me and expect me to act normal. You’re talking about a baby. Our baby.”

The way he said it, soft and reverent like he was tasting the words for the first time, made your heart ache in the best way. “So… what do you think?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out to cup your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours with a tenderness that made your breath catch. “I think…” he said slowly, his voice steady and sure, “I love you more than anything in this world. And if having a baby is what you want, then it’s what I want too.”

Your chest swelled with emotion, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll probably mess up a lot, but if you believe in me that much… then I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

Tears spilled over as you laughed softly, your hands coming up to cover his. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms like he was trying to shield you from the world.

After a moment, he pulled back slightly, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “I mean, I’m not saying no to all the, uh… practice it’s going to take.”

You smacked his arm lightly, your cheeks burning. “Chan!”

“What?” he said, feigning innocence as his grin widened. “I’m just saying, we should make sure we’re doing it right. You know, aim for perfection.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your jaw as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you into his lap. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, sending shivers down your spine. “We’ve got all night, love.”

The butterflies in your stomach erupted as his lips found yours, soft and deliberate, pouring all his love into the kiss. You melted into him, losing yourself in the taste of his lips, the warmth of his hands, the steady beat of his heart.

He was the one who finally broke the kiss, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants. He leaned his forehead against yours, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek.

"You know, we could always start trying now," he said, the words sending heat rushing through you.

You gave a breathless laugh, looping your arms around his neck. "I like the way you think, Mr. Bang," you said, grinning against his lips.

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Definitely," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. "Take me to bed."

A low giggle escaped him as he leaned forward, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs. "It'd be my pleasure, Mrs. Bang," he murmured, his lips hovering over yours.

And with that, he stood, carrying you easily across the room.

Your heart raced in anticipation, the familiar weight of his touch making you feel lightheaded. The soft glow of the TV dimly illuminated the room, casting shadows across the walls. The low murmur of the news anchor's voice seemed distant and unimportant, replaced by the sound of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

Bang Chan's warm hands cradled you, his lips pressed gently to your hair as he carried you across the threshold and into the bedroom, his movements careful and deliberate. Your eyes slipped closed, savoring the closeness, the safety, the comfort of being enveloped by him.

When you felt him set you down, you reluctantly opened your eyes. You were greeted by the sight of Chan's broad shoulders, his back turned to you as he shut the door with a quiet click.

As he turned back toward you, you took a moment to appreciate the view. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, drawing your gaze downward. A familiar heat pooled between your thighs, and you bit your lip, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

"Nothing," you said, your cheeks heating at the intensity of his gaze. "I'm just... admiring the view."

He grinned, his dimples flashing, and took a step toward you. "Is that so?"

You nodded, suddenly feeling a bit breathless.

"Well, allow me to return the favor," he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

His eyes roamed over you, his expression growing soft as his gaze lingered on your lips, your neck, your collarbone. He moved closer, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You shivered as his thumb brushed along your lower lip, his eyes darkening.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice laced with awe. "Our baby is gonna be so lucky."

The heat in your core pulsed, and you leaned into his touch, his words making your chest tighten. "Chan..."

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss, his hands slipping to your hips. You melted into the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, gently coaxing them open. The taste of him was intoxicating, sweet and familiar, and you clung to him, his warmth seeping into your skin.

You broke the kiss with a gasp as his lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin below your ear. His hands moved up your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before deftly undoing the buttons of your shirt. You fumbled with his hoodie, your fingers trembling as they skimmed over his toned chest. He chuckled, his breath tickling your skin, and helped you tug the fabric over his head.

You tossed it aside, letting out a soft whine as his lips resumed their exploration of your neck, his teeth gently scraping over your pulse point. His hands slid down your waist, finding the button of your jeans. You helped him, wriggling out of the restrictive fabric, leaving you clad only in your bra and underwear.

Chan stepped back, his eyes raking over you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "God, I love you," he murmured, his fingers teasing the lace hem of your panties.

You shivered, a thrill running through you at the intensity of his gaze.

"And I can't wait to have a baby with you," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Your heart fluttered, and you closed the distance between you, pulling him in for a kiss.

He responded immediately, his hands sliding around your waist, drawing you closer. The warmth of his bare skin against yours made you tremble, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, losing yourself in the taste of his lips.

You felt his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and you let out a soft sigh as the cool air hit your skin, the material falling to the floor. His hands moved up your sides, his thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts.

"God, Chan," you gasped, his touch sending sparks through you.

"Yeah, love?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

You rolled your eyes, reaching down to hook your thumbs in the waistband of his sweatpants. "Don't play coy," you muttered, a thrill running through you as his breath caught.

"Okay, okay," he breathed, his eyes following as he watched you.

You pulled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs, revealing his impressive length. He stepped out of them, and you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Always," you breathed, leaning in for a kiss.

He returned the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours. His hands moved down, gripping the backs of your thighs and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your arms looping around his neck. You felt his hard length press against your clothed core, and a soft whimper escaped you.

He carried you back to the bed, his lips never leaving yours. You landed on the mattress, and he moved over you, his knee nudging your legs apart. You obliged, spreading your thighs for him.

"So beautiful," he murmured, trailing his lips down your neck.

His fingers found the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He tossed them aside, his eyes raking over your bare form.

You felt a flash of heat, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. But the way his pupils dilated and his tongue darted out to wet his lips was all the reassurance you needed.

"Chan," you whimpered, arching your back as his lips trailed along your hipbone.

"Shh," he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin. "Let me take care of you."

You shivered, biting your lip to stifle a moan as his fingers dipped between your thighs, gently parting your folds.

"God, you're wet," he murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You groaned, rolling your hips against his hand. He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your swollen clit. You let out a gasp, your eyes squeezing shut.

"That's it," he whispered, his voice low and smooth. "Just relax."

His fingers circled your entrance, dipping in and out, the sensation driving you wild. You could feel his breath, hot against your thigh, and when his tongue dragged along the sensitive skin, your eyes snapped open.

"Chan," you breathed, gripping the sheets as his tongue found your clit, laving the swollen bud.

Your back arched off the bed, a moan escaping you. His free hand gripped your hip, keeping you pinned to the mattress as he worked you open, his tongue relentlessly swirling around your clit.

You writhed beneath him, heat building in your core, the sensations overwhelming. His fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and stretching. You could feel his hot breath on your skin, and when his lips closed around your clit, sucking gently, you let out a cry, your vision blurring.

"Please, Chan," you gasped, unable to take any more.

He hummed, the vibrations sending shocks through you. Then, mercifully, he released your clit, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. He then spit into his palm, and reached up to stroke his hard length, spreading the wetness.

"You ready, love?" he murmured, his voice husky and thick.

"God, yes," you gasped, arching your back and spreading your thighs, welcoming him into the cradle of your hips.

You watched, transfixed, as he positioned himself at your entrance. He hesitantly looked back at you, making sure you were one hundred percent okay with this.

"Please," you begged, your voice a breathless whimper.

He grinned, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. As his tongue swept into your mouth, he eased himself inside you. You gasped, the stretch and fullness making your head spin. He slowly bottomed out, and you moaned, the pressure and heat intoxicating.

He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Fuck, baby. You're so wet."

You whimpered, rocking your hips against his, the friction making you shiver. He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening.

"Chan," you managed, clinging to his broad shoulders, the sensation almost too much.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing over your pulse point.

"I want you," you breathed, a soft whimper escaping you. "I need you."

He hummed, slowly pulling back before thrusting deep inside you.

Your vision went white, a wave of pleasure crashing over you.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice laced with a possessive heat that made your core clench.

You let out a moan, nodding helplessly as he rocked his hips into you, his movements slow and steady. The drag of his cock inside you was intoxicating, and you gasped, clinging to him. The friction sent waves of heat through you, and you let out a breathless moan, arching your back to meet his thrusts. He grunted, his grip on your hips bruising.

"Please, Chan," you whimpered, the sensations becoming too much.

He let out a groan, his pace picking up. You writhed beneath him, the heat and friction overwhelming. He pounded into you, his hips slapping against yours. You gasped, your legs wrapping around his waist, drawing him closer.

"Fuck," he hissed, his voice a low growl. "You feel so good."

You cried out, the heat and pressure building in your core. He drove into you, his pace relentless, the sound of flesh on flesh filling the room. You whimpered, the friction and fullness bringing tears to your eyes.

"Oh God, Chan," you gasped, the tension mounting.

"Yeah?" he panted, his voice strained.

"I'm close," you whined, the words coming out broken.

He hummed, his fingers digging into your hips. He shifted, changing the angle, and the new sensation sent a shock through you. You cried out, your vision blurring as the pleasure hit its peak. Your body went taut, the tension snapping, and you fell apart, his name spilling from your lips.

Your vision went white, and the waves crashed over you, drowning out everything but the feel of his body against yours. His pace didn't falter, his hips rocking against yours as you came down, his movements drawing out your release.

"I'm not done with you yet," he warned, his grip tight on you.

You whimpered, the heat still pulsing through you, the sensation almost too much. He slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming languid and shallow.

"Chan," you breathed, barely louder than a whisper.

He groaned, leaning down and capturing your lips in a searing kiss. You kissed him back, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, stealing the breath from your lungs. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close.

When he broke the kiss, his breathing was ragged. He groaned, burying his face in your neck. His hips snapped forward, the sudden motion making you gasp. You cried out, the new angle hitting you just right. You writhed beneath him, the sensations almost too much.

"God, baby, I'm so close," he gasped, his voice thick and husky.

You moaned, the sound turning into a desperate whine.

He thrust harder, deeper, the pressure and heat overwhelming. You writhed beneath him, the friction driving you crazy.

"Fill me up," you breathed, his name on the edge of your lips.

"God, baby, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his hips snapping forward.

"Please," you pleaded, the pressure mounting.

"I'm gonna fill you up," he growled, his voice rough with need. "Gonna give you my baby."

You let out a cry, the tension snapping. He grunted, his movements growing erratic, and you clenched around him, his release triggering another orgasm.

"Fuck, yes, love," he hissed, his voice breaking.

His hips stuttered, and he thrust once more, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural groan escaped him, and he spilled inside you, his cock twitching as he emptied himself. You moaned, the warmth and pressure bringing tears to your eyes.

He collapsed against you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You clung to him, the feeling of his skin against yours grounding you, anchoring you. You lay there for a moment, neither of you moving, the silence broken only by the sound of your breaths.

After a moment, he leaned back, gently easing himself out of you. You whimpered, already missing the closeness, the fullness. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, a content smile on his face.

"How are you feeling, love?" he murmured, brushing the hair out of your face.

You sighed, your eyelids heavy. "Good. Really good," you mumbled, a dopey grin spreading across your face.

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your temple. "Glad to hear it," he said, his voice soft and warm.

You snuggled into his chest, the steady rise and fall of his chest comforting. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

You yawned, your eyelids drooping.

"Get some sleep, love," he murmured, his lips brushing the top of your head.

"Mm," you hummed, your mind hazy and your limbs heavy.

The last thing you remember is the warmth of his touch, and the gentle sound of his voice.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Lee Know :

The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the cozy apartment as you leaned against the kitchen doorway, watching Minho at the stove. He stood in a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly messy from a lazy day at home. He looked effortlessly handsome, the golden glow of the evening sun streaming through the window highlighting his sharp features.

"Stop staring and make yourself useful," he quipped, glancing at you over his shoulder with a smirk. "The chopping board isn’t just for decoration, you know."

You grinned but stayed put, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. Your heart raced as you debated whether to bring up the topic that had been on your mind for months. It wasn’t that you doubted his love or your relationship; Minho had always been thoughtful and attentive in his own dryly affectionate way. But this… this was a leap.

“I’ve been thinking about something,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Mm?” Minho hummed, focused on stirring the pasta sauce. "Thinking about helping me for once?"

"Minho," you said, this time with a little more weight, drawing his attention. He turned, wooden spoon in hand, eyebrows raised.

"What’s up?"

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you glanced up at him, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "I’ve been thinking about... having a baby," you said quietly, hoping the words would come out with less hesitation.

Minho paused for a moment, the spoon in his hand suspended in mid-air. His eyes blinked twice, as if he was processing the words. Then, he cocked his head, smirking with that mischievous gleam in his eyes. "A baby?" he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Are you sure? Because, you know, little versions of me would be a disaster... they’d probably be stealing my hair products and making my kitchen a mess by the time they can walk."

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off, but inside, your heart dropped. "I mean... just a thought," you stammered, taking a step back. "You know, for someday, when we’re ready."

Minho raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "We? Baby, you just mentioned the idea, and now you’re saying 'we'? You sure you’re ready to handle two Minhos? One’s already enough to deal with."

The teasing tone hit harder than you expected, and a wave of insecurity washed over you. Maybe you were too hasty to bring it up. Maybe he didn’t actually want that with you, maybe he wasn’t ready.

You forced a smile, trying to dismiss the feeling. "Yeah, never mind. Forget I said anything." You waved it off, turning back to the counter to grab a glass of water, trying to hide the tightening in your chest.

Minho didn’t seem to notice, his attention back on stirring the sauce. The rest of dinner went by in an awkward silence, with you trying to focus on the food and Minho humming mindlessly to the playlist in the background, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d ruined something with your suggestion.

That night, as you curled up under the covers, your mind was still restless. You kept replaying the conversation in your head, trying to convince yourself that maybe you’d misinterpreted Minho’s teasing. But the words still stung, and you couldn’t quite shake the doubt.

As you lay there, the room dim and quiet, you heard the sound of Minho shifting beside you. He rolled over to face you, his dark eyes studying you intently. You turned to face him, still unsure, the bed warm and cozy around you.

Minho shifted closer, his hand lightly brushing your arm as he studied you with an unreadable expression. The tension between you both was palpable, the weight of the earlier conversation lingering in the air. For a few seconds, there was only the soft rustling of sheets, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows over his sharp features.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, his voice suddenly softer, almost intimate. You looked at him, his gaze intense, a shift in the way he was looking at you now. “The baby thing... it’s been on my mind, too.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Was he just trying to lighten the mood again? Or had the thought really stayed with him? “Minho…” you began, but before you could say anything more, his fingers brushed against your cheek, gently guiding your face toward his.

“You know,” he murmured, lips hovering just inches from yours, “the idea of a mini me running around... messing up my space, stealing my things... I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it at first.” His breath was warm against your skin, sending a flutter through your chest. “But now?” He paused, eyes darkening with a mixture of desire and something else you couldn’t quite place. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

Your heart raced, the uncertainty from before now mixed with a rush of anticipation. Minho was never one to easily give in to big ideas like this, so hearing him admit it was unexpected. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his thumb grazing over the sensitive skin, pulling you just a little closer.

“So... what are you saying?” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

Minho’s lips curled into that teasing grin you knew so well. “I’m saying, if you want a little bundle of chaos in nine months... you better make your mind up now.” His voice was low, seductive, and it sent a spark of heat straight to your core. “If we’re doing this... we’re doing it right. No half-measures.” His fingers traced the curve of your jaw, tilting your head slightly as his gaze dropped to your lips. “No turning back once we start.”

Before you could respond, Minho’s lips were on yours, kissing you with a sudden, hungry intensity that sent your pulse spiking. His hands roamed to your sides, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You let out a soft gasp as his hands slid beneath your shirt, fingertips brushing over your skin with a mixture of tenderness and urgency.

“You sure you want this?” he murmured against your lips, his breath heavy, fingers already working their way up to your chest. “Because I can’t think about anything else now. Just... us.”

You couldn’t form words in response, your body reacting instinctively as you pulled him closer, kissing him back with the same intensity. It wasn’t just about the baby anymore, it was about everything you shared, every part of this relationship that felt so right. His hands were everywhere now, leaving no room for doubt.

Minho’s lips trailed down your neck, his voice muffled against your skin as he said, “You want a baby in nine months? We start tonight... and we do it properly.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss that only deepened, his hands working their way down to the waistband of your pants. You gasped, a shiver running through your body as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to bite softly at the tender spot near your collarbone.

Your body ached for him, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. “Then let’s do it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. “Let’s go all in.”

Minho responded without a word, his lips finding yours once more as his hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. You were lost in a haze of desire and passion, your thoughts consumed by the idea of him, of the future. It was reckless and risky, but for the first time, you didn’t care about anything but him.

Minho’s hands moved with a sense of urgency, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel all of you. His lips, burning with desire, trailed down your body, each kiss more fervent than the last. Every touch felt electrifying, like sparks igniting under his fingertips. The heat of his body against yours made everything else fade away, leaving only the intensity of the moment.

You arched into him, your breath shallow and erratic as he explored you, the anticipation building with every passing second. His lips returned to yours, deep and demanding, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that made your heart race even faster. You could feel his muscles tense beneath you, his control slipping away as his need for you grew stronger.

Minho’s hand slid to the waistband of your pants, pausing for a split second before he pulled them off, his gaze fixed on you, dark and smoldering. “You’re sure, right?” he asked again, his voice hushed but filled with raw, unfiltered desire.

You could barely nod, the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze making it hard to focus on anything but him. “I’m sure,” you breathed out, pulling him closer, your hands working to rid him of his clothes. You didn’t need to think anymore, there was only now, only the way he made you feel.

Minho groaned as he undid the rest of his clothes, his body pressing into yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. You could feel the hard line of him against your thigh, his breath ragged as he leaned over you, his lips brushing against your ear.

"I don't think I can wait," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair, his breath hot against your skin. "I want you, all of you. I can't stop thinking about it."

His words were a heady mix of desperation and desire, and you wanted nothing more than to give in to his every whim. Your hands moved to his hips, pulling him closer, aching to feel him fill the emptiness inside you. You were more than ready, the longing to have him buried deep within you was almost too much to bear.

"Then take me," you whispered, your voice laced with equal amounts of lust and need. "Make me yours."

Minho didn't waste another moment, his fingers gripping your thighs and pushing them apart, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He lowered his head, his lips skimming over your skin, kissing a trail of fire across your stomach, then lower.

He teased your entrance, his tongue swiping over you, tasting and exploring, before dipping inside, sending a shiver through your entire body. Your back arched involuntarily, and you gripped his hair, pulling him closer, begging for more.

His hand found yours, and his fingers laced through yours, gripping tightly as he worked his way down, his mouth devouring every inch of your heated flesh. You could feel the waves of pleasure building, but it wasn't enough, not yet.

"Please, Minho," you gasped, your hips bucking as he lapped at your swollen clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core. "Please, I need you."

Minho lifted his head, his eyes dark with lust. "What do you need, baby?"

You could barely find the words, the feeling of him against you, his hard length throbbing against your thigh, was driving you wild. "You. You in me," you said, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear as he pressed his body flush against yours. "You're gonna have to be a little more specific," he murmured, his hand sliding up your thigh, fingertips teasing the sensitive skin.

You shivered, the ache intensifying as his fingers dipped inside you, then withdrew, the slow, tantalizing movements driving you mad. "Minho," you begged, annoyed, unable to articulate what you wanted.

"Tell me," he said, his breath hot against your neck, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself back. "Tell me what you need."

"I need your cock," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You could feel him smile against your skin, the warmth of his lips spreading across your neck as he kissed his way down to your chest.

"I need all of you," he replied, his hand traveling down your stomach and settling between your thighs. "I need to be buried inside you, deep and hard, until you can't take it anymore."

"Please, Minho," you said, arching into him, the heat pooling between your legs, his fingers teasing your slick folds. "Please."

Minho groaned, his hips rolling into yours, the hard line of his cock rubbing against you, his restraint slipping. He kissed your lips, his tongue delving into your mouth, exploring and claiming.

He broke away, his breathing ragged, his fingers sliding up and down your wetness, his touch setting every nerve ending ablaze. You reached down, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking him slowly, your eyes locked on his.

"Do it," you breathed, desperate for him, aching for the connection. "Take me."

Minho groaned, his hands moving to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pushed you back, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders. You could see the tension in his muscles, the strain of holding back, but he couldn't wait any longer.

With a shuddering breath, he slid into you, the feeling of him filling you sending a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. You moaned, clinging to him, your nails raking over his skin, your hips bucking, craving more.

He began to move, his pace slow and steady, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he fought to control himself. You could feel his muscles tensing, the power and strength behind his every thrust sending a shiver of anticipation through your body.

You gasped, the feeling of him stretching you, the sensation of him moving inside you, was almost too much to handle. He reached between you, his fingers brushing against your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you.

"More," you moaned, unable to get enough, the pressure building deep within you.

He obliged, his hips snapping against yours, his pace quickening as he drove deeper and harder into you. You cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He growled, his fingers working your clit, his other hand digging into the sheets beside your head.

The pleasure was overwhelming, but every time you began to unravel, he slowed, dragging out the sensations, taking his time. You were lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, every sensation amplified, each touch, each thrust, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Minho leaned over, his lips finding yours, his tongue swirling around yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned into his mouth, the heat of him, the feel of him, was driving you wild. You could feel the tension building inside him, the pressure coiling in his body as his thrusts became more erratic, more desperate.

"Please," you breathed, desperate for release. "Please just let me cum."

"Not yet," he groaned, his breath ragged, his hips snapping against yours, the feeling of him sliding in and out of you was almost enough to make you fall apart. "Not until I say so."

He kept moving, the pressure building inside you, the need for release so intense, so overwhelming. You moaned, biting down on your lip, trying to hold back, but it was no use.

"Fuck," he cursed, his hips bucking, the pleasure threatening to spill over.

"Minho, please," you pleaded, your body trembling, the edge of the precipice just out of reach.

"Cum," he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, his fingers still working your clit, "now."

You cried out, the intensity of your release tearing through you, the world around you spinning as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Minho growled, his grip tightening on you, his hips bucking wildly as he came, spilling into you, the feeling indescribable.

The world was hazy, the intensity of the pleasure still coursing through your veins, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You clung to him, the sweat-soaked sheets tangled around your bodies, his lips trailing kisses along your skin, his hands stroking your hair.

You were still reeling from the high, the room slowly coming into focus. Your breath was shaky, the aftershocks of your release rippling through your body.

Minho shifted, his hand brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

"I love you too," you said, pulling him closer, his heart beating steadily beneath your ear.

The reality of what had happened settled over you, the knowledge that this could change everything. But as you lay there, curled up in his arms, you knew that no matter what happened next, this was worth it.

"Win the race," He said, pressing against your lower stomach as if he were talking to it, instantly making you laugh, even with the little energy in your body. "Because I can't wait to meet you."

And the idea, the prospect of it all, suddenly felt a lot less scary.

Minho rolled over, pulling you close, the warmth of his body seeping into yours, the sound of his heartbeat filling the quiet room. There was still so much ahead, the road was still uncertain, but in this moment, all that mattered was him.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Changbin :

It was the kind of lazy day you didn’t get often: just the two of you sprawled out in the bed, wrapped up in each other. The sun filtered through the blinds, casting warm rays on the blankets as the soft hum of the city outside barely reached your ears. Changbin’s strong arms held you close, one hand gently brushing the back of your head as his chin rested atop it. His body heat was comforting, and for a moment, you could forget about everything outside of the little bubble the two of you created.

You’d spent the entire morning in each other's company, moving between soft kisses, playful banter, and occasional teasing as the hours slipped away. Changbin was content, in his element, basking in the warmth of your presence, literally. You could tell by how tightly he held you, never wanting to let go, always wanting to be near you. You both always seemed to have the best days together when you didn’t have anywhere to be.

But then, as if the universe decided it was time for something to shift in the peacefulness of the moment, you made a suggestion that threw everything into an entirely different, far more intimate direction.

You tilted your head, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a playful glint in yours. “Binnie,” you murmured, your voice dropping to a more serious tone.

He hummed in response, his fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm. “Hm?”

"I think it’s time we make a baby."

There was a beat of silence before Changbin’s eyes widened, his arms momentarily stiffening around you, as though trying to process your words. His brow furrowed, mouth slightly agape, the playful smirk that usually never left his face faltering for just a moment.

“W-What?” His voice cracked as he pulled back a little to look at you. He blinked a few times, clearly stunned. “You’re... serious?”

You nodded, a little too pleased with the reaction, but then you noticed how flustered he looked, his dark eyes wide and the hint of a blush creeping up his neck. It was cute. So cute that you couldn’t hold back a small chuckle.

Changbin quickly recovered, a mischievous glint creeping back into his eyes as he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m always your baby,” he said with a teasing smirk, his voice playful again.

You raised an eyebrow, your smile widening as you saw through his attempt to make light of the situation. “You sure about that? Because I’m ready for another baby now, Binnie.”

The teasing glimmer in his eyes faltered once more as his gaze dropped to your lips, and he could see that you weren’t joking. There was an undeniable sincerity in your expression, and it made his heart skip a beat. The playful energy between you shifted, his face slowly turning red as the words finally sank in.

“You’re serious?” he whispered, his breath catching in his throat.

You nodded again, leaning in to press your lips to his, but this time, it wasn’t just a kiss. It was deep, slow, and filled with something that had both of your hearts racing in unison.

When you pulled away, Changbin’s expression had shifted entirely. His chest was rising and falling faster than before, and you could feel his muscles tense under your fingertips. But what really caught your attention was the bulge pressing against your leg.

“Binnie…” you teased, your voice dripping with amusement. “I didn’t think you’d be that into the idea.”

A small whine escaped Changbin, his arms wrapping tighter around you as his lips sought yours once more. The kiss was a little sloppy, but it only served to make you laugh into it. You could feel the smile on his lips as he kissed you harder, his hands already moving along your sides and down to your thighs.

Changbin was always affectionate with you, even if he wasn't the best at showing it in public. It was always there in the way he looked at you, or the subtle brush of his fingertips against yours when no one was looking, or the sweet compliments he whispered to you when the two of you were alone. But the way his hands slid under your shirt, and the urgency in his kiss told you exactly how he felt in that moment.

You let him lift you off his lap, settling your hips down over his so that he was nestled between your legs. He groaned against your lips, and you felt his growing length straining against his pants.

When he broke the kiss, it was only to help you tug off his shirt. As soon as the garment was tossed aside, he grabbed the hem of yours and pulled it over your head, tossing it behind him, not caring where it landed. Then his lips were back on yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth, eliciting a soft moan from you.

You didn't notice his fingers fumbling with the button on your jeans until he pulled away from the kiss to help you out of them, and a few moments later, you were both naked and panting. Changbin's lips were already trailing across your collarbone, his teeth nipping and sucking at your skin, making sure to leave a mark.

Your hands moved down his back, your fingers digging into his flesh as you arched up to meet his lips, his chest pressed firmly against yours.

"Changbin," you whined, his name a breathless sigh on your lips. "Touch me."

He pulled back to look at you, his expression one of pure adoration. He took in your flushed cheeks, the way your eyes were hooded and glassy, your lips parted in anticipation.

"Anything for you," he said softly.

Your body shuddered as his hand traveled up the inside of your thigh, his fingers finding their way between your folds, circling your sensitive bud. You let out a low moan, bucking against him.

"I can't wait any longer," you panted.

"Neither can I."

Without warning, he flipped you onto your back, hovering above you. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face as he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity that made your toes curl.

When he finally broke the kiss, he reached down to grab a condom from the drawer of his nightstand, sort of like muscle memory at this point. But before he could get a chance to open the wrapper, you stopped him, placing your hand on his.

"Binnie," you breathed. "You don't need that."

His eyes met yours, the question written all over his face. You just nodded, and a wide grin spread across his face.

"Whatever you want," he whispered, and he threw the package onto the floor.

His fingers returned to their earlier spot between your legs, stroking up and down the slick heat before slipping a finger inside you, followed by another. Your breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping your throat, and you rocked against his hand.

After a few moments, Changbin pulled his fingers out, replacing them with the tip of his cock. He slowly eased into you, and a breathless gasp left your lips as he filled you completely.

He paused for a second, his forehead resting against yours, and then he began to move, the feeling of his hips rolling against yours overwhelming you. The pace was slow and sensual, and the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing and the quiet creaking of the mattress as he moved above you.

As you stared into his eyes, the emotions swirling within them were too intense, too intimate, so you closed your own, letting yourself drown in the feeling of his body against yours, his cock filling you up with each thrust.

Your hands found their way to his back, clutching at his shoulder blades, and his lips brushed against your neck. Your bodies were so close that you could feel his heartbeat thundering against your chest.

It was too much.

You wanted to feel him deeper, to pull him closer. So you hooked your legs around his waist, pulling him in until you were almost completely flush with one another. You could feel every inch of him, and it made your stomach flutter.

The new angle allowed him to go deeper, his cock hitting a spot that made your breath hitch. Your nails dug into his back, and you buried your face in his neck. "Binnie," you mumbled, and his fingers laced through yours, pinning your hands to the bed above your head.

He was everywhere. His skin was hot, his touch burning. Every part of you was connected, and the way he moved was sending you over the edge. Your head was spinning. Pleasure pulsed through your body, building higher and higher. Changbin's lips had moved down to your neck, his tongue leaving a trail of wet kisses along your skin.

When he bit down on the base of your throat, you arched into him, letting out a loud moan. "Please... Please," you pleaded, and he groaned in response.

He continued his pace, the feeling of your body against his becoming more and more overwhelming. You were close, you could tell. You were just waiting for the moment that you fell, waiting for him to push you over the edge.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, he stopped moving altogether, pulling out of you completely. Your eyes shot open and you looked up at him, a frustrated whine slipping out. "Binnie, why..."

He brought his fingers back to your clit, teasing and circling it, and your eyes fluttered shut. His lips were against your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck. "You look so beautiful like this," he whispered. "All hot and needy for me."

Your breathing grew ragged as he worked at your clit, sending sparks through your body, and your legs tightened around his waist. "Binnie, I... Please..." you panted. "Please don't stop..."

The moment his cock re-entered you, a wave of pleasure washed over you, making your back arch against him. Your legs squeezed tighter around him, keeping him buried deep inside of you as he began moving again, thrusting harder and faster this time. Your orgasm was coming.

"Let go for me," he commanded.

With a loud cry, you let go, and your orgasm tore through your body. You couldn't stop yourself from moaning his name over and over as he fucked you through it, prolonging the bliss. The feeling was indescribable, and for a brief moment, everything in the world felt right.

It was only a few seconds later that you felt Changbin shudder as his release shot into you, filling you with hot warmth. Your name fell from his lips, breathy and desperate.

His hips slowed to a stop, and he pulled out, rolling over to lay next to you, a smile tugging at his lips. You didn’t move, just letting your head fall onto his shoulder and your arm wrap around his torso. Your legs were shaking and your heart was racing, but you couldn’t stop the content smile on your face.

You turned your head slightly, pressing your lips against his shoulder. It felt like an eternity since the last time you'd both been intimate with one another like that, and you almost wanted to laugh at how natural it felt. But Changbin shifted, turning onto his side to face you, his fingers brushing across your cheek.

"You okay?" he murmured.

Your heart swelled as his eyes searched yours, a concerned expression on his face, his brows slightly furrowed. He was worried about you. He always was. And it was in moments like these that you really saw it, felt it. The love in his touch.

You smiled, nodding slowly, letting yourself get lost in the deep, dark brown pools of his eyes. You felt warm all over, a content, almost sleepy feeling overtaking you. "I love you," you said softly, and he smiled.

"I love you too."

With that, you pressed your lips to his in a brief but loving kiss. When you broke apart, you couldn't help the giddy smile that spread across your face. You let your eyes wander over him, and you felt yourself melt into his arms. You'd never felt happier than in his embrace.

He was warm and soft, his breathing slow and steady, his skin hot against yours. Your fingertips lightly brushed over his collarbones and across his shoulder, making goosebumps break out across his skin.

After a few more moments of basking in each other's presence, you shifted your position, scooting closer so that you were able to curl yourself into him, your head resting against his chest.

"Okay, I'm ready for round two now,"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hyunjin :

The soft hum of Hyunjin’s paintbrush against the canvas was almost soothing, the steady strokes of his arm adding layer after layer to the masterpiece in front of him. His studio smelled like oil paints and creativity, with light spilling in through the tall windows, casting a golden hue on everything. He was lost in his work, just the way he liked it, completely immersed.

But you missed him. And right now, with the pull of your body, the warmth of your desire, you couldn’t help but want him close.

With a quiet smile, you slipped out of your bedroom, putting on nothing but his oversized shirt, the fabric reaching mid-thigh. You padded down the hallway, your steps slower than usual as the heat between your legs reminded you of the feeling growing in your core. It wasn’t something that could be ignored, and the fact that Hyunjin was so close made the need even more intense.

You reached his studio, and as you poked your head around the doorframe, your heart skipped when you saw him still focused on his painting. A smirk tugged at your lips. You waddled in, walking with purpose as you made your way toward him. He glanced up, surprised by the soft sound of your footsteps before a soft chuckle escaped him.

"Hey, darling," he greeted, his voice warm and inviting. His smile was like the first rays of the sun breaking through the clouds, and you could feel your pulse quicken in response. He leaned back in his chair, arms outstretched, expecting you to crawl into his lap.

You didn’t waste any time. Before he could say another word, you were on him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his, demanding the attention you craved. His body stiffened for a moment, but then he melted into you, pulling you closer as your kisses deepened. You could feel his surprise mixed with fondness in the way his hands gripped your waist.

“Love, what’s up?” he murmured between kisses, a playful glint in his eyes. “You miss me that much?”

You pulled away slightly, keeping your hands on his shoulders as you looked him over, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You didn’t even try to hold back, letting the feeling of desire overwhelm you. “I want to make a baby right now.”

Hyunjin blinked, processing your words. His lips curled into that teasing, sexy smile of his, and you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your sudden forwardness. “Ah, are you tired of me painting on you? Would you rather I finish in you instead?” His voice was smooth, every word dripping with his signature charm.

You froze, face feeling hot. "Hyunjin!" you gasped, swatting at his chest playfully, too embarrassed to even look him in the eye. "I'm serious!"

The mischievous glint in his eyes softened, and his arms tightened around you, bringing you flush against his chest. "I know you are," he said, his tone now filled with affection and sincerity. "And I love the idea." His voice lowered, almost a whisper as he leaned in close, brushing his lips across your ear. “Can we make a baby now?”

Your heart raced, and the sheer intensity in his voice made you forget about your nervousness. The room felt smaller, more intimate as he pulled back to look at you, a mix of excitement and love in his gaze.

“You really want to?” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes, your body practically humming with desire.

“Well, I need to go back to my painting, love,” he murmured, voice thick with affection but also a hint of teasing. “I’ll be done soon, and then we can—”

“No.” You interrupted him playfully, your lips landing on his jaw, trailing kisses along the path of his neck as you pressed your body fully against his. “I don’t want to wait, Hyunjin. I want you, right now.”

His breath hitched, and you could feel the shiver run through his body. His grip on you tightened, and you smiled against his neck, knowing the effect you had on him.

You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you in for a heated kiss. His hands then slipped beneath the shirt that you put on, his fingertips finding their way to your half-hardened nipples. His lips found your jaw, placing featherlight kisses along your skin, before trailing lower, stopping at the base of your neck.

He let out a soft hum of approval, and you knew exactly what he was thinking. He loved marking you, making sure that everyone knew that you belonged to him. You leaned into him, wanting him to have better access to the sensitive skin.

As he started sucking on your skin, you felt yourself relax, the warmth of his touch calming the desire burning within you. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and dip. The sound of his lips against your skin was enough to send shivers down your spine, and the feeling of his mouth on your skin was electrifying.

His fingers dipped lower, reaching between your legs. You spread your thighs, allowing him easier access. As his fingertips brushed against your folds, you could feel how wet you already were.

His lips parted, and his breath caught. "So wet, love," he breathed, his voice thick with awe and wonder.

You whined, pressing your body closer to his, needing him inside you. "Hyunjin," you moaned softly, your fingers digging into his biceps, "fuck me, please."

His arms wrapped around you, lifting you up and carrying you over to his desk, where he placed you down, your bare back hitting the cold surface. Your head spun at the sudden change of position, the room shifting from vertical to horizontal in an instant.

But Hyunjin was already tugging down his sweats and boxers, letting them fall around his ankles before kicking them off. His cock sprung free, standing proud and tall, and you bit your lip, admiring the sight. His tip glistened with precum, and you could see his erection twitch.

"I'm going to fuck a baby into you," he promised, and the words alone sent a fresh wave of arousal through your body. "So take every drop, okay?"

You nodded, spreading your legs, eager and waiting for him to enter you. Your whole body was buzzing, the anticipation making you tremble with excitement.

"Not yet, if I don't prepare you," he said, and before you could react, he pushed two fingers inside your core, "it'll hurt."

A small gasp escaped you, the intrusion taking you by surprise, but it was a good kind of surprise, one that left you feeling lightheaded and desperate for more. Your eyes fluttered shut as he moved his fingers in and out, stretching you.

He added a few more fingers before pulling out, the slick coating his digits. "There," he purred, pumping his own length to lubricate it, "ready?"

You didn't need to answer, your legs opening wide as an invitation. Hyunjin leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss. It was tender and slow, but filled with desire, and you could feel the intensity of his love for you.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging lightly at the soft locks. The sensation caused him to moan softly, and he broke the kiss, panting slightly. His dark eyes were filled with lust and desire, and you couldn't help but let out a small whimper, eager for more.

He positioned his length against your entrance, the tip just barely dipping inside. He held it there for a moment, his other hand caressing your thigh. Biting down on your bottom lip, too excited to form words. You couldn't take it anymore, and with a slight wiggle of your hips, you urged him inside.

"Patience, love," he murmured, and you could hear the teasing in his tone.

He pushed inside, his cock stretching your walls, and you couldn't stop the moan that fell from your lips. He buried himself deep within you, his length filling you up. He began to move, slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being inside you.

His hands moved to cup your breasts, gently squeezing and kneading the mounds, teasing the peaks. You arched into him, craving more.

"You're so perfect," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "You're so tight around me."

You could only whimper, words escaping you. His praises were music to your ears, and the feel of his cock moving inside you made your head spin. His slow pace itching your walls, the friction sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.

His lips were on yours again, kissing you hungrily, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You tasted him, his scent intoxicating, the smell of oil paints and his natural musk making your head spin.

He broke the kiss, panting softly, his lips moving to your neck. He trailed kisses along the curve of your shoulder, and you could feel his teeth nipping at your skin. You were losing yourself in the feeling, the sensations overwhelming you.

His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, and you were gasping and moaning, completely at his mercy.

"You're taking me so well, baby," he cooed, his words sending a thrill through your body.

He quickened the pace for you, and you were clinging to him, your nails digging into his skin. He was relentless, his thrusts not incredibly fast, but powerful, his hands moving to grip your waist, pulling you close as he fucked into you.

Your mind was clouded, the only thing registering was the way his cock stretched and filled you, his fingers playing with your breasts, his lips leaving a trail of kisses across your neck and shoulders.

"I love you," you gasped, and he moaned into your skin in response, his teeth sinking into the curve of your neck.

He was lost in your warmth, in the feeling of being inside you, and the room was filled with the sounds of skin against skin, your soft moans and whimpers, his breathy pants and low groans. It was almost too much for you, the sensations threatening to push you over the edge, the coil within your abdomen winding tighter and tighter.

"You're going to cum for me, baby," Hyunjin murmured, his voice thick with need and desire. "And you're going to cum for our baby, too."

That was all you needed to hear to send you spiraling into a mind-blowing orgasm, your walls clamping around his cock, and your fingers digging into his shoulders. You moaned loudly, unable to control yourself as your climax crashed into you like a tidal wave. Hyunjin's pace stuttered, and you felt his release inside you, filling you to the brim.

"I love you so much," Hyunjin breathed, pulling you into a deep kiss.

As he pulled away, your body suddenly felt empty, but Hyunjin suddenly slipped two fingers inside your pussy, the wetness and slick of both your arousal and cum allowing him to glide them in. "Full of me, love," he hummed in appreciation as you tightened your grip around him, whimpering, still sensitive.

"I know baby, it's so much, but I told to you take every single drop." he kissed your forehead gently and slipped in a third finger, stretching you slightly. "You can do that for me right?"

Your body shuddered in his grasp, and you felt his other hand gently rub your tummy. "You're gonna be so big," Hyunjin purred, kissing your cheeks, "and I can't wait to see our baby inside you, and everyone's going to be able to see the work of art I created inside of you. Everyone will know."

"Hyunjin..." you panted, still catching your breath after your orgasm, and the image he created in your mind sent your mind spinning once more.

"I think this will be my best piece yet, hm?"

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Han Jisung :

The warm glow of the living room lamp bounced softly off the walls as you sprawled lazily across the couch, your head resting comfortably in Jisung's lap. His focus was pinned to the TV screen in front of you, fingers flying over the controller in a frenzied attempt to beat whatever game had stolen his attention. The faint sound of rapid button mashing mixed with his occasional muttering under his breath, a mix of self-encouragement and exaggerated complaints about the game mechanics.

Jisung in his element was a sight to behold. His lips parted slightly in concentration, his sharp jawline flexing whenever he gritted his teeth at a missed combo. The sleeveless shirt he wore hung loose around his lean frame, leaving his toned arms on full display. You couldn't help but let your eyes wander, imagining how your child could inherit those features: the cheeky grin, the soft yet angular face, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled too hard.

The thought planted itself so firmly in your head that the words tumbled out before you could second-guess yourself.

“Jisung,” you said casually, letting your hand drift lazily over his thigh, “you ever think about making a baby with me?”

For a moment, his reaction was nonexistent. He grunted in response, still laser-focused on the game.

“Mm-hmm, yeah, babe. Just hold on, I’m about to beat this guy--”

And then it hit him.

His hands froze on the controller, his character on the screen taking a hit as he snapped his head down to look at you, eyes wide as saucers. “Wait, what?!”

You stifled a laugh at his reaction, the tips of his ears already beginning to turn red. He stared at you, completely speechless, mouth agape as if waiting for you to break into laughter and tell him it was just a joke. When you didn’t, he sputtered helplessly, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Han Jisung,” you said again, this time with a mischievous lilt to your voice, “how would you feel about putting a baby in me sometime soon?”

“Yah, stop it!” he sputtered, his voice jumping an octave as he frantically mashed at the controller, trying to pause the game but failing miserably in his flustered state. “You can’t just say stuff like that when I’m in the middle of—of…”

“…this!” he finally blurted, his voice cracking slightly as he slammed the pause button with a frustrated jab. The screen froze mid-action, his character caught in a losing battle, but Jisung didn’t seem to care. He stared down at you, his lips parted in disbelief, his cheeks now a fiery shade of red.

“You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, setting the controller down on the cushion beside him. His hands flew to his face, covering his flushed expression as if it would shield him from your teasing. “Who even says that so casually?”

You grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction far too much. “What?” you asked innocently, though the mischievous glint in your eyes gave you away. “It’s not like I’m asking for a baby right now. I’m just saying… you’d make a cute dad.”

He peeked at you through his fingers, his brows furrowing. “This is not normal couch talk!” he whined, his voice higher than usual as his brain scrambled to keep up. “You can’t just spring stuff like that on me. I’m trying to focus, and then you go and--”

“Distract you?” you finished for him, your tone light and playful. Sliding your hand up under his shirt, you let your fingers graze over the smooth, warm skin of his stomach. His muscles twitched under your touch, and his entire body stiffened as if you’d just short-circuited him.

“D-Doing- that!” he stammered, his voice cracking again. He grabbed your wrist gently but didn’t pull your hand away, his ears burning redder by the second. “You’re being distracting right now, and you know that.”

“Am I?” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him with a sweet smile that only made him more flustered. “You’re just so cute, Ji. Can you blame me for thinking about it? About us? About what it’d be like to have a little Han Jisung running around?”

“Aghhh!” he groaned dramatically, throwing his head back against the couch. “Stop! You’re gonna make me combust or something. I’m already sweaty from this game, and now you’re- ugh, I can’t with you!”

You giggled, loving every second of his over-the-top reaction. “Okay, okay,” you said, patting his chest soothingly. “Breathe, Han. It’s just a thought. A cute little thought. You don’t have to freak out about it that much.”

“I’m not freaking out!” he argued, though his voice cracked once more, betraying him. His wide eyes darted down to yours, his expression softening despite his embarrassment. “I mean… I have thought about it. A little. Not, like, seriously, but…”

“But?” you pressed gently, your teasing tone giving way to genuine curiosity.

He sighed, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck nervously. “But… the idea isn’t terrible,” he admitted quietly, his gaze dropping to the hand you still had resting on his stomach. “I just… I wanna be good enough, you know? So that I’d… that I wouldn’t mess it up.”

Your heart swelled at his vulnerability, the way he couldn’t help but let his anxieties surface even in a moment like this. You shifted to sit up, cupping his cheek and guiding his gaze back to yours. “Jisung,” you said softly, your thumb brushing over his skin. “You’re already good enough. And if you ever doubt it, just look at how much I love you. That should tell you everything.”

His eyes widened for a moment before they softened, his lips curling into a shy smile. “You’re too much,” he mumbled, leaning into your touch. “Seriously. How am I supposed to focus on anything when you’re like this?”

“Maybe you’re not supposed to,” you teased, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Maybe this is my way of saying… you’ve already won the game, Jisung. You’ve already got me.”

The clock ticked closer to midnight, the soft hum of the heater filling the cozy silence of the living room. You’d already changed into your favorite oversized t-shirt for bed, hair loosely tied back as you padded barefoot across the carpet. Jisung was still glued to the TV, his earlier embarrassment mostly forgotten as he focused intently on beating the level that had eluded him earlier.

You stopped just short of him, arms crossed, tilting your head with an amused smirk. “Still at it, huh?”

He glanced at you briefly, flashing an apologetic grin. “Almost there, baby. Just need a few more minutes. I’m so close.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved closer, draping yourself over the back of the couch so you could peek at the screen. “You’ve been saying that for the past twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, but this time I mean it,” he defended, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration.

With a sigh, you leaned down further, your hair brushing against his cheek. “Ji,” you murmured, your voice soft and sultry, “don’t you think it’s time for bed?”

He froze for a fraction of a second before shaking his head, trying to stay focused. “Just a little longer, promise. I’m almost- no, no, no, almost there!”

You bit back a smile, watching the way his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed in frustration. He was adorable when he was like this, but you weren’t about to let him get away with ignoring you.

Sliding around the couch, you plopped yourself down beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. “You know,” you began, tracing small circles on his arm with your finger, “the game isn’t going anywhere. It’ll still be here tomorrow. But me…” You trailed off, your voice dropping suggestively.

He stiffened slightly, his grip on the controller tightening. “Baby,” he muttered, a warning in his tone. “Don’t do that right now.”

“Do what?” you asked innocently, shifting closer.

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely at you with one hand while his character took a hit on screen.

You straddled his lap without warning, the controller slipping from his hands as his eyes shot up to meet yours. “Oops,” you said with a cheeky grin.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice laced with both exasperation and something warmer. His hands hovered awkwardly by your sides, unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You looped your arms around his neck, your movements deliberate as you shifted in his lap. His breath hitched, and you felt the slight twitch of his muscles beneath you. “Come to bed with me, Jisung,” you whispered, leaning in so your lips brushed against his ear. “Unless… you’d rather stay here and let me go to sleep all by myself.”

“Babe,” he choked out, his hands finally settling on your waist, holding you in place as if to stop you from moving any further. His ears were blazing red again, his gaze darting anywhere but your face.

“Or,” you continued, tilting his chin up so he had no choice but to look at you, “we could practice making a baby tonight.”

The words hung in the air, and for a moment, Jisung looked like his brain had completely short-circuited. His mouth opened and closed a few times, no sound coming out except a faint squeak.

“Wait, you’re- are you serious?” he finally managed, his voice cracking as his grip on your waist tightened slightly.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his jawline. “What do you think?”

Jisung swallowed hard, his wide eyes locking onto yours. The game was long forgotten, and the controller was discarded on the couch beside him. His hands slid up your sides, tentative but firm, as if testing to see if you were really there.

You pressed a soft kiss to his neck, his breath hitching slightly. Your hands were already wandering, sliding over the smooth skin of his arms and tracing along his collarbones. He shivered, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer.

"Mm, so I'm guessing this means you like that idea?" you teased, your lips trailing along his jaw.

"Baby," he whined, his voice already husky and breathless. "I... I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I- I want..."

"What do you want, Ji?"

"You," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut. "Always."

"Then take me," you whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He captured your lips with his, the kiss searing hot and desperate. Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging him closer as his tongue slipped into your mouth, swallowing your moan. He tasted like the peppermint candies he'd been sucking on earlier, sweet and crisp, and the way his mouth moved against yours made your head spin.

He pulled away after a moment, his lips already swollen, chest heaving. His eyes met yours, dark and clouded with desire, and he looked like he was ready to devour you.

"Do you really... mean it? You'd let me make a baby with you?"

You couldn't help but laugh at the hesitant tone of his voice, at how cute it was that he was still checking for confirmation. "I'll say it as many times as you need to hear it. Yes, Jisung. I want a baby with you. I want you to put a baby in me."

His eyes lit up, his cheeks flushing bright pink, and for a second he almost looked innocent. But the way his hands tugged impatiently at your shirt and his eyes raked hungrily over your body was anything but.

"So what are we waiting for, then?" he said, his voice low.

You grinned, letting him pull the shirt over your head and toss it carelessly to the floor. "Absolutely nothing."

Jisung's hands were everywhere, his lips tracing hot kisses along the column of your neck as he backed you into the bedroom. Your legs hit the edge of the bed, and he was on top of you in an instant, his hands grasping at your thighs. His hands spread out on the underside of your thighs, lifting them up so he could position himself between them.

The way his hands moved over your body was possessive, almost primal, his eyes dark and hooded as they locked onto yours. He ground his hips into yours, and the hard bulge of his cock pressing into you had you biting back a moan.

"You want this?" he whispered, his voice dripping with desire.

"God, yes," you breathed, tugging at his shirt. "Want you, Jisung."

He leaned back just long enough to strip off his shirt, tossing it aside. "So fucking sexy," he murmured, his hands slipping up your bare thighs. "You're the only one I want. The only one I ever want to put a baby in."

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and with a swift tug, they were gone, discarded somewhere in the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Your breath caught in your throat, and he paused, his eyes roaming hungrily over your bare body.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands coming up to squeeze at your breasts. "The things you do to me."

"Show me," you whispered, reaching out to stroke him through his boxers. "Show me how much you want this, baby."

He hissed at the contact, his hips jerking into your hand. "Y/N," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "I'm gonna- gonna fuck a baby into you."

The words went straight to your core, and you couldn't stop the whimper that slipped past your lips. He was so close, his warm breath fanning across your face, his hands already roaming over your body. He reached between your legs, his fingers ghosting over your wet folds, and a soft moan escaped him.

"Look how wet you are, baby. So wet for me," he murmured, his finger sliding through your slick folds and circling around your clit. "How long was I keeping you waiting for this?"

You let out a gasp as he slid a finger into you, your walls clenching around him. "All week," you breathed, hips bucking involuntarily as he pumped his finger in and out.

He smirked, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit as his finger curled inside you. "Mm, poor baby," he cooed. "You've been so needy for my cock, haven't you?"

"God, yes," you whimpered, arching into his touch.

"So impatient," he teased, adding a second finger and pumping faster. "You want me to fill you up, don't you? To fuck you until you can't take it anymore?"

You moaned, his dirty words only heightening your arousal. He curled his fingers inside you, and you writhed, his name falling from your lips. "Yes, yes, please, Ji, I need-"

He leaned in, his voice a husky whisper. "Tell me what you need, baby."

"Your cock," you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Want your cock, Ji, please."

His lips curled into a satisfied grin. "Anything for you, baby. Anything for the mother of my child."

The words sent a rush of heat through you, and he slid his fingers out of you, the ache of emptiness already setting in. You watched him strip off his boxers, the sight of his hard cock sending another wave of arousal through you.

He gripped the base, the head flushed and leaking with precum. "Tell me, Y/N. Tell me where you want my cum."

You spread your legs, his eyes fixated on the glistening folds between them. "Inside me," you breathed, the ache becoming unbearable. "Please, Ji, I want it all."

He stroked himself, his thumb swiping over the head and spreading the precum. "Mm, so good, baby," he groaned, his free hand grasping at your thigh and guiding your legs apart.

"Need you," you whined, your walls clenching around nothing.

"You'll have me," he promised, lining himself up with your entrance. He rubbed the head along your folds, and you moaned, his name spilling from your lips.

"Jisung, please," you begged, hips bucking as you tried to press him deeper.

"Tell me how bad you want it," he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head. "Tell me how bad you want a little Han Jisung."

"So bad," you moaned, your hands grasping at his back. "Please, Ji, give me everything. Fill me up, put a baby in me, please, I'm-"

The rest of your words dissolved into a cry as he slid inside you, his thick cock stretching your walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust in, bottoming out in one swift movement.

"So fucking tight," he hissed, his head falling forward as he took a moment to collect himself.

"So big," you whimpered, shifting beneath him and feeling the fullness.

"And all yours," he murmured, starting to move inside you. He rocked his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust. His cock dragged against your walls, hitting just the right spot to make your toes curl.

"Ji," you moaned, nails digging into his skin as you clung to him. "God, I love you."

"Love you, too," he breathed, his voice strained. His rhythm was relentless, his thrusts quick and deep, the sounds of your pleasure mingling together.

Your hips rose to meet his, and his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart even further. "So beautiful," he muttered, his eyes fixated on the way you clenched around him.

He leaned forward, his lips capturing yours in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as his cock slammed into you. You arched off the bed, a high-pitched cry escaping your lips. His mouth trailed along your jaw, sucking a mark into your skin.

Suddenly he took your hand in his and pressed on your lower stomach, pushing down hard as his thrusts grew more frantic.

"Feel that, baby? Feel my cock in you?" he growled. "Can you feel the way it stretches you, the way it fills you up? That's me putting a baby in you."

You couldn't form any coherent words, your cries rising in pitch as the pressure built inside you. You felt yourself start to unravel, your body shaking, his name tumbling from your lips. You couldn't hold back anymore, his words pushing you over the edge. Your walls clenched around him, pleasure surging through your body as he pounded into you. You cried out, waves of ecstasy washing over you as he fucked you through your orgasm.

He didn't slow down, his movements becoming more erratic, his grip on your thighs tightening. You were barely starting to come down when he buried himself deep inside you, a hoarse groan escaping his lips.

His hips jerked, his cock pulsing as he came. His cum filled you, warm and thick, his hips grinding against yours as his release spilled into you. His name fell from your lips again, a breathless sigh, and his thrusts slowed, his body shuddering above yours.

He stayed there for a moment, panting, his eyes half-lidded and his gaze hazy. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then to the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head up, capturing his lips in a soft kiss, and he melted into you.

You both lay there, tangled together, your breathing slowly evening out. He held you close, his hands stroking your hair. Your limbs were still tingling, your mind fuzzy.

After a few minutes of laying in each other's arms, he pulled away, and you felt the sudden emptiness, his cum dripping out of you. His eyes widened at the sight.

"Did- Did I do that? I'm sorry," he muttered, reaching for a tissue.

You couldn't help but laugh softly at his panic. "It's okay, baby. I told you to."

He blushed, his ears reddening again. "Oh, right. Still... sorry, I'm a little out of it."

You giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You did good."

He looked down, his gaze soft and his lips curving into a shy smile. "I'm glad," he murmured, cleaning you both up before laying back down beside you.

You curled up in his arms, and his fingers trailed over your skin, gentle and soothing. He pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into your touch. "We should... do it again. When I'm not so tired," he murmured.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Felix :

It was a peaceful night. The kind where the whole world feels like it’s settled into a comfortable, lazy rhythm. You and Felix were lying in bed, cuddled up under the blankets, the soft hum of the night settling around you both. His hand was gently resting on your waist, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

But despite the calm, there was something on your mind, something you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days. Baby fever.

Not just baby fever, but the idea of him leaving any kind of indication that he was yours on you. Love bites, marks, bites, anything.

And it wasn’t like you were planning on having a baby tomorrow (you were still young, after all), but the thought had been growing, and now you couldn’t stop it. Felix had always been someone you pictured with kids, with his soft smile, his playful personality, and the way he always seemed so gentle and caring.

You would always think of how your kid would inherit his traits, his eyes, his freckles, his smile. Maybe the baby would have his characteristics too.

You shifted slightly, turning over to face him, your body pressing a little closer to his. Felix looked down at you with a soft, sleepy smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were still filled with the warmth of the moment, not yet aware of the direction your thoughts were heading.

Felix hummed, and you took a deep breath, staring up at him with a mixture of hesitation and boldness.

"Felix... Why don't you ever mark me up?" you asked suddenly, catching him off guard. His eyebrows furrowed, his gaze shifting from your face to your lips and back up again.

"Mark you?" he echoed, his deep voice scratching your ear, a mix of confusion and curiosity. "Like... how?"

You bit your lip, trying to keep your composure as your pulse picked up speed. "You know... like... with your teeth, your lips, something... I dunno. Sometimes, I just want to feel... marked."

Felix blinked in surprise. His hand paused mid-air as if he was considering your words carefully, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Is... that something you'd want me to do?" he asked in a soft, almost timid tone, his accent adding a cute layer to his question, looking down at you as if trying to read your expression.

You nodded slowly, a small, teasing smile curling at the edges of your lips. "Yeah... I kind of want that."

Before you could continue, Felix’s lips descended on your neck, his teeth already gently nipping at the sensitive skin. You gasped softly, your hands immediately tangling into his hair. He was submissive in the way he was responding, eagerly giving you exactly what you’d asked for. His lips were warm against your skin, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Felix pulled back slightly, breathing heavily against your neck, his lips still brushing against your skin. His voice was hushed, almost reverent. "Is this what you wanted?" he whispered, his hands resting on your sides, gently guiding you closer.

You nodded again, but this time, your fingers didn’t stop at his hair. You slid them down his back, pulling him closer, your breath catching as you tried to find the words.

"I..." You faltered, trying to figure out what exactly you wanted him to do, what you needed him to do, but nothing seemed right. You didn't want him to stop, and you couldn't think of a better way to ask him for what you really wanted.

Felix was looking at you with those beautiful eyes of his, and the thought flashed through your head, and you blurted it out before you could change your mind. "I also... have been thinking about kids, lately. Not- not just in general. But with you, specifically."

His eyes widened slightly, and his blush deepened. A deep noise escaped him, and then he smiled, the same gentle, loving smile he'd always given you. He didn't say anything, though, but his hands shifted lower on your waist, a silent reassurance that he'd heard what you'd said, and he understood.

Felix's lips returned to your neck, kissing a path down the column of your throat. "When would you want that?" he murmured, and the way his words were muffled by your skin sent a pleasant tingle through your body.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure and speak through the haze. "Someday, someday. But not anytime soon. I just want... you to know that I think about it, sometimes. And I think you would be an amazing dad."

He paused, his lips resting on your shoulder. Then, a small smile curled his lips. He leaned in and kissed you softly, and you could taste the smile on his lips. "I think about that too," he murmured, his voice so soft and vulnerable that you couldn't help but melt against him.

"Do you want to know what else I think about?" he whispered, his breath warm on your cheek. "What else I've been thinking about?"

You shivered, closing your eyes and leaning closer to him. You nodded, biting your lip and trying not to look as excited as you were.

He smiled against your lips, a small laugh escaping him. "I've been thinking about this," he breathed, and then he pressed his hips forward, his half-hard length rubbing against your inner thigh. "And this," he continued, sliding his hands down to grip your ass. "And this," he continued, slipping his fingers under your underwear, stroking along the curve of your butt.

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, running up the length of your stomach and cupping your breasts, gently squeezing.

Your heart pounded against his chest, and your hands slid down his back, slipping inside the waistband of his boxers. He sucked in a sharp breath when your fingertips brushed against his ass. You squeezed him gently, a low hum vibrating from the base of your throat.

"Mmm... and you too," you replied, arching your back slightly and pressing your chest further into his hands. "I think about the way your fingers feel, the way you kiss me, the way you hold me."

"And what do you think about, when I hold you like this?" he whispered, his hands moving lower, his fingers dancing along your thighs. "When I touch you like this?"

He moved his hands down, gently parting your thighs, his fingers tracing along the sensitive skin between your legs. Your breath caught, and you let out a soft moan, your hands sliding up to clutch his shoulders.

"I think about the way you're gonna make me feel. And I can't wait until the day that I'm carrying your child," you answered, biting your lip and squeezing your thighs together.

Felix's hands stilled, and he stared down at you, his eyes dark with desire.

"God," he groaned, and the sound was so raw, so desperate, that it sent a rush of heat straight to your core. His eyes flicked down to your lips, his fingers moving up and tracing circles over the sensitive spot above your entrance.

You whined, trying not to move and press your hips into his touch. He chuckled, his fingers circling lazily. "And how long have you been thinking about that, huh? What made you bring it up?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Mmm..." you sighed, arching your back and squeezing his shoulder. "Maybe... a week? Or two? But I can't get the thought out of my head."

His breath hitched, his fingers slowing, and then stopping.

"A week," he echoed, his eyes fixed on yours, his lips parted slightly. "You've been thinking about this for a week."

You nodded, trying not to squirm under his intense stare.

"Yeah. I... I think it would be a great thing to have with you."

He was silent for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. His lips curled up into a mischievous smirk, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Then why don't we start practicing?" he suggested, his voice low and seductive, sending a wave of heat through your body.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding quickly. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck, before pulling back and grabbing the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head. He tossed it to the floor, his hands running up the smooth planes of your stomach, cupping your breasts.

You reached for the bottom of his shirt, tugging it over his head, before sliding your hands up his chest. He smiled, his hands returning to your hips, and pulling you flush against his chest.

"So you want me to mark you up? Bite and scratch and claim you?" he asked, his lips brushing over the skin of your throat.

"Yes," you gasped, tilting your head to the side and giving him more access to your neck.

He let his teeth scrape lightly over the side of your neck.

"You want me to leave my mark all over your body?" he continued, his voice low and husky.

"Mmmhmm," you moaned, clutching his shoulders and pulling him closer.

"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

You shivered, your hips rolling against his. "Yes," you breathed. "Yes, god, please. Do it."

Felix chuckled, his hands moving down to squeeze your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"Okay then, anything for you, princess," he purred, the tone in his voice changing to a sweeter one, his lips trailing down to the hollow of your throat.

You let out a moan as his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin of your collarbone. He nipped lightly at your neck, his tongue flicking over the skin. His lips trailed lower, his mouth latching onto the swell of your breast. He bit down lightly, a sharp intake of breath escaping you. His tongue traced over the small red mark left by his teeth, soothing the skin.

You whined, pushing your hips against his, trying to create some friction. He smirked, his fingers digging into the plump flesh of your ass.

"Patience," he chided, his tongue swiping over the mark again.

"Oh, I'm so patient," you breathed, arching your back.

Felix chuckled, his tongue lapping over the mark once more, before he moved down, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the valley between your breasts. He stopped when he reached the bottom of the valley, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, kneading the soft flesh.

His thumbs rubbed circles around your nipples, the tips of his fingers tweaking them, his eyes watching the way your body reacted. You arched into his touch, his hands feeling like fire on your skin, the rough calluses sending delicious sparks of electricity through you. It felt like his mouth was hitting every right spot, the combination making your head spin. Taking his time to make sure they really left a dark mark on you.

Felix let go of one breast, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers circled around the apex of your thighs, his thumb rubbing light, teasing circles over your clit.

You gasped, your hands grabbing at the sheets beneath you, trying to steady yourself. He laughed softly, his mouth pressing hot, wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your stomach. His fingers moved lower, stroking between your folds.

"So wet already, baby," he purred, his tongue flicking out over your hip bone.

"Please, Felix," you begged, your body aching for his touch, his closeness, his warmth.

"What do you want, princess? Tell me," he coaxed, his voice low and smooth.

"I want you to make me come," you pleaded, rolling your hips against his fingers.

Felix hummed, his eyes hooded and filled with lust, his fingers still working between your legs.

"You want to come for me?" he teased, his voice dropping even lower.

"Yes, please," you whimpered, the muscles in your thighs beginning to tense.

"You wanna come on my cock?" he rasped, his free hand moving up to squeeze your breast.

"Yes," you moaned, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.

Felix pulled away suddenly, his hands leaving your body, the sudden absence of his warmth making you whine.

"How about you help me get ready for you, baby?" he suggested, a hint of a challenge in his tone.

You immediately sat up, reaching down and yanking his boxers off, his thick cock springing free, standing proudly, the tip flushed red and leaking precum.

You grabbed his length, pumping him a few times, before licking a long stripe up his shaft, swirling your tongue around the head.

Felix moaned, his hands tangling into your hair, his hips rolling up, his cock pressing against the roof of your mouth.

You sucked lightly, your hand stroking his length, his hips bucking up to meet you. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head.

You bobbed your head, taking his cock deeper, your tongue swirling around his tip. You took him in until the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat. He let out a deep groan, his hands tugging at your hair, his hips thrusting forward, his cock sinking deeper.

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard, his head thrown back in pleasure, his grip on your hair tightening. You swirled your tongue around the tip, his hips rocking up, his cock hitting the back of your throat, his fingers twisting in your hair.

You made sure to wet the entire length of him, wanting to ensure that he could slide in with ease, even though he was already incredibly hard. He groaned, his hips jerking forward, his cock bumping against the back of your throat, his eyes meeting yours.

"You ready?" he breathed, his voice husky and dripping with desire.

You nodded, swallowing him down once more before letting go of him, pulling back and licking your lips. He groaned, his hand tightening in your hair.

"Good job, beautiful," he purred, pulling you up and guiding you over his lap, his lips descending on yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moaned, parting your lips and allowing his tongue to slip inside.

His hand slid between your legs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you, his thumb pressing against your clit. You whimpered, grinding down on his fingers, his hand moving lower, his thumb rubbing circles over your entrance.

He pulled back, his lips trailing down your neck, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, his tongue flicking over the pulse point.

"Felix," you gasped, rolling your hips against his, the need for him growing.

He hummed, his fingers slowly easing into you, stretching you out, preparing you. You moaned, throwing your head back, his name slipping from your lips, his hand tightening on your hip.

"Do you think you can handle me now, baby?" he murmured, his breath tickling the side of your neck.

"Mmm, please," you pleaded, rocking against his hand.

Felix pulled his fingers out, placing them in his mouth and licking them clean, his eyes fixed on yours, he hummed in approval of the taste, making you shiver in anticipation. He grabbed your hips and pressed you against the bed, climbing on top of you and pressing you against the sheets. His lips descended on your neck, his tongue trailing across the skin, leaving hot, wet marks in their wake. His cock was resting against your hip, the thick, hot shaft twitching with the promise of release.

His mouth found your collarbone, his lips and teeth scraping against your skin, a soft moan escaping you, your body aching for more contact with him, your skin craving his warmth, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

"God, Felix," you breathed, your nails digging into his back, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him forward.

He chuckled, his hips thrusting forward, the thick, hard head of his cock pressing against your entrance, before pushing into you, the feeling making your head spin.

He moaned, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands moving down your hips, squeezing your thighs.

"So tight, so good," he purred, his hips pulling back slightly before slamming forward, your head falling back as your body adjusted to the size of him. He began to thrust into you slowly, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, the delicious friction of him moving in and out of you driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Felix, fuck," you cried out, your hips grinding up to meet his every thrust, your fingers digging into his shoulders. He grunted, his lips pressing against your throat, his breath hot against your skin.

He thrust faster, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot, your nails digging into his skin as you clung to him, trying to stay grounded. Your head swam, your body shaking as his thrusts increased in speed, the pleasure of him moving inside you, filling you up making your mind foggy.

"You like that, huh?" he rasped, his thumb tracing over the tip of your clit, the pressure and the pleasure building.

You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as your walls clenched around his shaft, your orgasm building inside of you already, the feeling making you want to scream out his name, the pleasure too overwhelming. He groaned, his fingers rubbing slow, teasing circles around your clit.

"Felix, please slow down," you whimpered, the amount of sensations driving you mad, your hips grinding up against him, desperate for release. He grunted, his thrusts slowing to a teasing pace, his thumb stroking over your clit, your orgasm so close it almost made your vision blurry.

You clung to him, his cock driving into you slowly, your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass. He moaned, his head resting on your shoulder, his hands squeezing your thighs as he moved inside you.

You let out a whimper as his thumb rubbed against your clit, the slow, agonizing friction making your body shudder, your walls tightening around him, the pressure almost too much to take.

He groaned, his hips jerking forward, his cock buried deep inside you, the heat of him making you squirm in anticipation, your walls clenching around him.

"Felix," you panted, the feeling of your impending orgasm making your head spin.

"Yes, princess," he hissed, his lips trailing up the length of your throat, his fingers tracing light patterns on your clit, his thrusts speeding up.

You cried out, your orgasm hitting you like a wave, the pressure building up until it exploded, your walls tightening around him, the delicious heat of him filling you up, your body shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled over you. You let out a cry as you came hard, your toes curling as his thrusts grew frantic, his cock pulsating inside you as your body rocked with pleasure.

He thrust hard, the head of his cock bumping against your g-spot, your back arching off of the bed, your hands gripping at his back, the friction and heat driving you crazy.

"Oh fuck, Felix, fuck," you groaned, your voice coming out in a high-pitched whine, the pleasure coursing through you. He let out a grunt, his body tensing above yours as his hips stilled, his cock twitching deep inside you, his body shuddering with release.

"So good, baby, you feel so good," he gasped, his body collapsing against yours, his breathing heavy.

He kissed you deeply, his hand sliding into your hair, tugging lightly at the roots, the pleasure from your orgasm making your body tingle.

"You're so amazing, I love you so much," you mumbled, kissing him back, his lips feeling so warm and perfect against your own.

Felix let out a deep chuckle, his lips brushing against the side of your neck as he buried his face into your shoulder. "I love you too," he murmured, his words tickling your ear, his eyes darkening slightly, the heat from his gaze making you shiver. "How many rounds do you think you can handle tonight? Cause I don't plan on stopping for a while," he whispered, his words sending a spark of heat through you.

You smiled, your hand moving up to his neck and pulling him closer, his body still pressed against yours, your skin hot where it touched him, your heartbeat still hammering in your ears.

"You wanna practice that much?" you teased, your breath catching in your throat as you felt him move against you. "Because I wouldn't mind getting knocked up by you tonight."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Seungmin :

The gentle hum of your bedside fan filled the quiet room, mingling with the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the shifting of your legs. You lay sprawled across your bed, scrolling aimlessly on your phone, though your mind was far from as idle as it seemed. It was one of those lazy afternoons when time stretched endlessly, wrapping you in a hazy cocoon of stillness. Yet, your thoughts were loud, brimming with a strange, newfound energy that had been bubbling up over the past few weeks.

It had started so subtly you almost didn’t notice. You’d catch yourself smiling a little too long at videos of babies giggling uncontrollably or rubbing your thumb over pictures of toddlers in oversized hats like they were some kind of magic talisman. The turning point came when you saw Seungmin with your niece last month. She’d toppled onto her knees in the grass during a family outing, and while you were mid-step to help her, Seungmin beat you there. He knelt beside her, gently brushing dirt from her hands while playfully poking her chubby cheeks to make her laugh. That softness in his eyes, the one he tried so hard to mask behind his sarcastic jabs, lit something within you.

You couldn’t unsee it after that. It wasn’t just how easily he got your niece to smile or how patient he was when she tugged at his hair. It was the tiny glimpse of what life could look like if it wasn’t just the two of you anymore. And while you’d always been on the same page about your future: sweet, simple, and child-free, the idea of bringing a tiny, giggling extension of your love into the world had begun to sneak into your daydreams.

Today, it was impossible to ignore. You’d been scrolling through more videos, babies in pumpkin costumes, toddlers waddling on chubby legs, when the thought crashed into you like a runaway train. It wasn’t just the soft glow of future possibilities that consumed you, it was something much deeper. You imagined his hands on your hips, the warmth of his body pressed to yours, the thought of him letting go of his usual care and filling you completely, nothing between you. The thought had your skin tingling and your heart racing. Seungmin was always so careful, always the responsible one, but you were ready to be reckless. For once, you wanted to see what would happen if he gave in.

"Seungmin!" you called out, your voice cutting through the stillness like a spark in dry grass.

There was a shuffle from the living room, followed by his characteristic faux-annoyed sigh. You could already imagine him rolling his eyes, though you knew better than anyone how much he loved being needed, even if he’d never admit it.

"What now?" he asked as he appeared in the doorway, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation. A towel was slung over his shoulder, his dark hair slightly damp, curling at the ends from a recent shower. He raised an eyebrow at you, the corners of his lips twitching as though he was fighting a grin.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, unable to hide your smile. “I need you.”

“That’s new,” he quipped, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Last time I checked, you were perfectly capable of surviving an afternoon without me. What changed? Did you finally realize how boring life is without me?”

“You wish,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you with a flush of pink. His playful teasing never failed to make your heart flutter. He smirked, pushing off the doorframe to walk closer, he perched on the edge of the bed, poking your cheek lightly with his finger. “So, what is it this time? Did you get stuck in a Reel rabbit hole again and need me to pull you out? Or are you about to ask me to refill your water bottle because you’re too lazy to move?”

You grabbed his hand to stop the poking, holding it for a moment longer than necessary. “Seungmin,” you said softly, your voice suddenly losing its teasing edge.

He cocked his head slightly, his eyes searching your face. Something faltered in his gaze as you pulled his hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it. A small shudder ran through him, his breath hitching slightly.

His lips parted slightly, a soft exhale escaping him as you turned his hand over, brushing your lips against his palm. You glanced up at him through your lashes, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice lower now, his free hand brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “What’s going on with you?”

Your response came in the form of a slow tug, guiding him closer as you sat up fully. His knees bumped against the bed as you leaned into him, your fingers trailing along his wrist. “Nothing’s going on,” you murmured, though the way your other hand found the hem of his shirt betrayed the truth. “I just… missed you.”

He blinked, his brow furrowing slightly, as though he wasn’t entirely sure where this sudden shift was coming from. But there was something in the softness of your tone and the heat in your gaze that made him pause. “Missed me?” he echoed, his lips quirking, though the teasing lilt was softer this time. “We’ve been in the same apartment all day.”

You hummed, your fingers slipping beneath the fabric of his shirt, brushing over the firm planes of his abdomen. His breath hitched again, and this time, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with a firm yet measured grip. “Alright, what’s this really about?” he asked, his tone sharper now but not unkind. “You’re acting different.”

“Am I?” you asked innocently, leaning in closer so your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity made his jaw clench, and you couldn’t help the small, satisfied smile that tugged at your lips.

“You are,” he replied, his grip tightening ever so slightly around your wrist. His dark eyes bore into yours, flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “What are you hiding?”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a playful smirk as you leaned up, brushing the tip of your nose against his. “Maybe I just wanted you, Seungmin. Maybe I called you in here because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Something in his expression faltered, his gaze shifting slightly.

You took his hesitation as an opening, slipping your hand out of his grasp, moving it slowly to his thigh.

His breath caught, a soft noise escaping him as your fingertips brushed the inside of his leg. Your other hand snaked up his chest, finding his shoulder, pulling him closer. His hands twitched, as though he was resisting the urge to touch you. You were certain he was about to protest again, and that was when you decided to take things a step further.

In one fluid motion, you climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your arms snaking around his neck. His eyes were looking up at you as if he was anticipating your next move, his hands gripping your hips reflexively, his body tensing.

You leaned into him, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the side of his neck, the way you knew always made him melt.

The tension in his shoulders released, a low sigh escaping him. You smiled at his little reactions, brushing your lips along his collarbone. His breath hitched, a soft noise of contentment escaping him. You continued, dragging your teeth over his skin, biting gently, earning another low sound from him. You nipped harder, sucking on the sensitive flesh.

Seungmin shuddered beneath you, his head falling back, his Adam's apple bobbing as a soft moan escaped his parted lips. You smiled, satisfied with his reactions as you rolled your hips into his, feeling his clothed length pressing into the thin fabric of your shorts, making the wetness already pooled in your pants grow.

Seungmin gripped your waist tighter, his fingers digging into your skin. Your heart raced, desire burning through you, making the space between your thighs ache. You rocked against him again, feeling his hardness throb. The heat building in his body was unmistakable, and it only spurred you on. You wanted to hear his sounds of pleasure, his breathless pleas, his sweet promises of love, and most importantly, the sound he'd make, spilling himself inside you.

The thought alone sent a shudder of pleasure through you, the ache between your thighs growing more insistent. Seungmin was always the type to plan ahead, the type who wouldn't dream of taking such a huge risk, and part of you felt guilty for longing for something like this on your own, but the way his cock twitched as you rocked against him made your worries dissipate.

Your lips met his, kissing him hard and needy. Your tongue slipped into his mouth, earning a low moan from him. One hand gripped your hip tighter, the other sliding up your back, pulling you closer. He kissed back eagerly, his teeth grazing your lip, nipping, sucking. It was the type of kiss that made the room spin.

Seungmin pulled away, his chest heaving, a string of saliva connecting his bottom lip to yours. His hair somehow already looked disheveled, and his pupils were blown wide. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it, reaching down and pressing your palm to his straining erection.

"Seungmin," you whispered, leaning forward, letting the words slip past your lips like honey. "I need it so bad. I can't stop thinking about how good it'd feel if you came inside me. Please, Minnie. Fuck a baby into me."

He blinked, his brows raising, his mouth dropping open slightly. It was as though his brain was buffering, unable to process the words coming out of your mouth. "Wait... wha— wait-"

You didn't let him finish, pulling the hem of his boxers down, revealing his throbbing, dripping length. He was rock hard, the tip leaking pre-cum, twitching under the heat of your gaze.

"C-Came inside..?" He said, still lost on the last thing you said, the words jumbling together, the meaning slipping away, "I- Inside? You want- what?"

The confused but aroused look on his face only made you burn hotter, a deep yearning spreading through your core. You wrapped a hand around his base, pumping him slowly, making him gasp. "Please," you said softly, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his cock. "Fill me up, Seungmin. I've been thinking about it all week."

Seungmin made a strained sound, his brows pinching together, his hips bucking slightly. He was always super safe and responsible when it came to sex, never going a single step beyond what he knew you were comfortable with, but now you were asking for something he'd never expect. And a part of him really wanted to give it to you.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, his tone a mixture of concern and disbelief. He pulled back slightly, his hands gripping your hips more tightly. "I can't just- I can't, we can't," he said quickly, the words spilling out as his brain struggled to catch up. "We can't just go raw. What if you get pregnant? I can't put you through that. We need to use a condom, or- or something. I don't know, a pill, or- or, I'll pull out."

His being worried for you was cute, a reaction you expected, but you never missed the way his cock twitched at the suggestion of him fucking a baby into you, his cock throbbing, making your heart race, wanting to see how far you could push him.

"Seungmin," you whined, leaning into him, nipping at his earlobe. "Please. You'd be such a great dad, hm? I promise we'll work it out, but for now, I need you inside me."

Seungmin gasped, his cock throbbing again, his cheeks burning a deep shade of crimson. "Y-you can't just- You can't just say things like that," he stuttered, his hands twitching.

You got up, removing your pants and underwear. "Tell me, do you want it?" Seungmin's eyes followed you as you stripped, his gaze drifting down, drinking in the sight of you. He bit his lip, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. "Do I want-? Of course, I want it," he blurted, his eyes flickering up to yours. "I mean, if it's something you're serious about, then-"

"That's all I needed to hear," you said, climbing back onto the bed and straddling him again, the warmth of your center pressing against his bare, slick length. His words alone had a flood of heat rushing through you, your walls aching with need.

Seungmin sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh god, y-you're so-"

You ground your hips into him, rubbing his shaft along your folds, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moaned softly, the slickness of your walls coating his cock, the tip brushing over your swollen bud, making you gasp. Seungmin's hips bucked, a low groan escaping him. He grabbed the backs of your thighs, holding you steady, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

"You're sure about this, right?" he asked, his tone serious despite his flushed cheeks. "I mean, It's so sudden and... I'm not saying I'm against it but-"

You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a desperate kiss, silencing his rambling. You cupped his face, kissing him harder, deeper. He shuddered, his hips twitching.

When you pulled away, his eyes were wide, his lips parted.

"Are you going to keep talking or are you going to fuck a baby into me, Kim Seungmin?"

Seungmin inhaled sharply, his hands finding your hips. His gaze was piercing, burning into yours. For a moment, you wondered if you'd pushed him too far. But then his lips were crashing into yours, kissing you hungrily. His tongue slipped into your mouth, his teeth catching on your lower lip, biting hard enough to make your lip bleed. He trailed his lips down your jaw, peppering hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, stopping at the sensitive spot right beneath your ear.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, making him moan. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you. His fingertips left trails of fire along your skin, the sensation heightened by the knowledge that this was the most uncontrolled you'd ever seen him. He wasn't taking his time, or being gentle and careful like he always was. This was raw and desperate.

Seungmin's tongue traced a hot line down the hollow of your throat, his hands sliding up to cup your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, his cock grinding against your folds, the slickness making the friction delicious.

You moaned, arching your back, pushing into his touch. You wanted more, needed him closer, needed his bare skin on yours. He seemed to read your mind, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. He paused, pulling back just enough to tug it off. The sight of his body made the heat in your stomach flare, and his skin was always so smooth and lean.

He tossed his shirt aside, his eyes meeting yours, his cheeks flushed. "This is- this is what you want, right?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "Me, like this. No condom, nothing?"

You nodded, biting your lip. Seungmin swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Alright," he breathed, his gaze flickering down, lingering on the way your hardened nipples pressed against the fabric of your shirt. "Then get on your back."

You did as you were told, shifting off his lap to lie down, propping yourself up on your elbows. Seungmin moved closer, settling between your legs. You watched as he gripped the base of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. His other hand found yours, lacing your fingers together.

You could feel the heat of his body radiating through you, the anticipation making you shiver. This position was so foreign to you, the one where you could see his face, his eyes filled with so much tenderness, his hair hanging in his face. It was as if a different side of him was peeking through, a softer, more intimate side.

Seungmin's hips shifted, and then his length was sinking into you, inch by inch. He groaned, his head falling back. The feeling of him stretching your walls, filling you completely made your toes curl, a low moan escaping you.

Seungmin stilled, his hands gripping yours tightly. His chest rose and fell heavily, his breath ragged. Your eyes met his, and you watched as a flurry of emotions flashed across his features. It was as if he was struggling to process the moment.

"Seungmin," you whimpered, squeezing his hand.

His eyes snapped back to yours, his lips parting, the softest gasp escaping him. You watched as his brows pinched together, the muscles in his jaw flexing, his gaze flickering down to where your bodies connected.

"Shit," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're so- Fuck. I can feel everything."

You moaned softly, the sound turning into a whine as he slowly dragged his cock along your walls. Seungmin's head fell forward, his dark locks hanging in his face.

"You feel so good," he murmured, his eyes meeting yours. There was something different about the way he looked at you, his gaze burning into yours. You shuddered, a soft cry escaping you as his hips rolled, the sensation making you dizzy. His hands released yours, moving to grip your waist, his thumbs pressing into your skin, hard enough to bruise.

You whimpered, your hands tangling in the sheets. The sight of him losing control made your core throb. He was always so calm and collected, so careful and meticulous, but seeing him like this, so desperate and needy, was something you didn't even know you wanted until now.

Seungmin's lips pressed into a thin line, his hips snapping, his cock driving deeper, filling you completely. Your walls clenched around him, making him groan.

"Fuck," he cursed, his brows knitting together, his grip on your waist tightening.

You could feel the familiar knot building in your stomach, your legs trembling. You reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His body covered yours, his lips finding your neck, kissing, biting, sucking. He marked every inch of you, his lips leaving trails of fire along your skin, his hips pounding into you, filling you to the hilt.

You could feel him throbbing, the tension in his body growing. You clung to him, the pressure in your core reaching its peak. Seungmin's breath was hot against your ear, his hands sliding down your sides, his fingertips digging into your hips.

You moaned, the sound coming out more like a whimper. "M-min," you stuttered, his name coming out as a broken plea. "I'm gonna- I'm- oh, god, Seungmin. Don't stop. I need-"

Seungmin's hand snaked between your bodies, his thumb finding your swollen clit. He circled the bundle of nerves with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing a sharp cry from you.

"Come for me," he breathed, his voice husky and strained.

The sound of his voice sent you over the edge, and a wave of white-hot pleasure crashed through you. Your walls clenched around him, your back arching. Your vision went white, stars dancing behind your eyelids. You cried out, the sound echoing through the room.

Seungmin swore under his breath, his hips slamming into yours. The force of his thrusts pushed you up the bed, his fingers digging into your skin, holding you in place.

You could feel his body tense, his muscles contracting, the heat of his skin searing into yours.

Your heart pounded, the world around you spinning, his name a mantra on your lips. He was still moving inside you, the sensation drawing out your orgasm, pushing you higher.

And then his hips stuttered, his rhythm faltering, his movements becoming erratic.

"F-fuck," he cursed, his voice a low growl, his body trembling. You could feel him twitch, his cock pulsing inside you. You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

His head dropped, his forehead resting against yours. His eyes were screwed shut, his jaw clenched. His breath was hot on your face, his hair sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead.

"I- inside. Come inside me, Seungmin."

"Y/N," he choked out, his body shuddering.

Your walls clenched around him, drawing another low groan from him. He came hard, his cock throbbing, spilling himself deep inside you. The sensation made your vision blur, the heat spreading through your body, making the world go fuzzy.

You could feel him fill you up, completely, his seed spilling from you, the thick, sticky substance coating your thighs, mixing with the slickness of your arousal.

The sensation made your head spin, a fresh wave of pleasure washing over you. Your walls clenched around him, milking him, coaxing every last drop from him.

He gasped, his hips jerking, his cock twitching inside you. You felt his body tremble, his arms giving out. He collapsed onto you, his chest heaving, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

His body was warm and heavy, his breathing ragged, his pulse hammering in his throat. Your limbs were weak, the exhaustion settling into you.

You stayed like that for a while, his breath tickling your skin, the afterglow leaving you blissed out. When he finally pulled out, the sensation drew a soft whimper from you, his seed spilling out of you, pooling on the sheets.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his lips brushing your temple.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, tears prickling the sides of his eyes. "A lot"

The tenderness in his words made your heart swell, and you curled into his side, burying your face in his chest.

"Don't get all sappy on me now, Seungmin," you teased, though your voice was softer than usual. You knew if he cried you would cry harder.

Seungmin sighed, his fingers threading through your hair. "Who's getting sappy?" he mumbled, his words muffled.

Your hand slid up his back, tracing lazy patterns along his spine. "The one who's tearing up after he came inside of me."

"I'm not- I'm not tearing up," he insisted, though his voice wavered, betraying his emotions. "I'm just... it's just a lot. Like, a lot a lot."

You hummed, kissing the corner of his mouth, smiling gently. "I know, Min. I love you too."

Seungmin let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Hey, um..." he started, his brows furrowing, "about what you said before, about wanting a baby. Was that- were you serious?"

"Well, I wasn't trying to pressure you," you said, running your hand through his hair, tucking a stray lock behind his ear. "But... yeah, I've been thinking about it a lot lately. And I think it'd be nice, don't you?"

Seungmin hummed thoughtfully, his gaze drifting to the side. "Yeah, I mean... I do, but I also don't want to put any pressure on you, either. If we're going to do this, I want it to be because you really want it."

You smiled, cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. "I really want it, Min. More than anything."

Seungmin nodded, his expression softening. "Okay. Then... okay. Let's do it."

Your heart swelled, and you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Thank you," you said, unable to hide the joy in your voice.

"I'll take care of everything, okay? I'll get us the best doctor, the best equipment, the best tests, the best vitamins, the best prenatal classes. We'll do it right. We'll be the best parents ever."

You suddenly felt laughter bubbling in your throat, and you had to bite your lip to keep it down.

"What?" Seungmin asked, scanning your face.

"Nothing," you said, shaking your head. "You're just cute, that's all."

Seungmin made a face and shook his head, and you could tell he was embarrassed.

"Come on, let's get in the shower," you said, getting off the bed.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

I.N :

You’re lying on the couch, scrolling through your phone with Jeongin lounging beside you. You’re trying to stay productive, but your attention keeps drifting. Your thumb swipes aimlessly, until you find yourself trapped in the vortex of cute baby pictures.

It starts with a baby panda video that you think is adorable, and before you know it, your Instagram feed is flooded with baby photos: panda babies, human babies, and then you find a whole thread of pictures of Jeongin as a little kid.

Your heart melts instantly. The sight of Jeongin, chubby-cheeked and smiling awkwardly at the camera, makes you feel an overwhelming urge to scoop up every baby in sight. It’s like an instinctual surge of affection, one that hits you straight in the ovaries.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, entranced by the photo of a younger Jeongin sitting on a swing, his eyes wide with excitement. He’s so adorable.

Jeongin glances over, leaning his head against your shoulder. “What’s going on?” he asks, noticing the soft sigh escaping your lips.

“These baby pictures of you… they’re just… too much,” you whisper, as if you’ve discovered a treasure trove. Your thumb scrolls past picture after picture.

Jeongin peeks at your phone, blinking rapidly when he sees what you're looking at. "Wait, that’s me..." he says, his voice a little flustered.

"Yeah," you say, your voice soft but teasing, "You were such a little cutie. I can just imagine you as a dad- gonna be the most adorable dad ever."

Jeongin chuckles nervously. “I-I’m sure I was cute, but, uh, I’m still getting the hang of being an adult.”

You glance down at him, smiling mischievously. Your fingers hover over the screen. "Yeah, well, you know… I kind of want a baby. Like… now."

Jeongin freezes, his wide eyes blinking a few times as he processes your words. “A… baby?” he asks slowly, the confusion clear on his face. He’s not sure whether you’re joking or if you’ve truly caught baby fever.

You nod, your expression sweet but undeniably serious. “Yeah. I mean, just imagine it- us, with a little baby. We’d be such great parents, don’t you think?” You look down at him, noticing the way his face goes from confused to completely overwhelmed.

Jeongin starts laughing nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Uh, I… wow, uh, okay. This is a lot to take in right now.”

You giggle softly at his reaction, feeling a little bolder now that you've gotten under his skin. “Maybe we should practice,” you say, your voice dropping into a teasing whisper.

Jeongin’s eyes go wide, his entire face lighting up as his brain tries to process what you just said. “P-practice?” he stammers, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "Oh... OH."

His eyes widen even more as the realization finally hits him. He glances at you for confirmation, but you’re already leaning in, a playful smile curling at the edges of your lips. He lets out a nervous laugh, unsure whether to laugh or blush harder.

"Uh, I-I mean, if we’re practicing... do we need a lesson or something?" he stumbles over his words, his hand sliding up to scratch his head in confusion. "Wait, what kind of practice are we talking about? I- oh my god, what am I saying?”

You start giggling uncontrollably at his adorable reaction, trying to hold back the fit of laughter that’s bubbling inside you. “I was talking about practice in, you know, the practice... for the baby," you say, your hand trailing on the side of his face.

Jeongin, now completely flustered, stumbles backwards, almost falling off the couch. “Oh my god,” he mutters under his breath. “I did not expect that.”

You snuggle up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest, your giggles subsiding into soft laughs. Jeongin shifts nervously, still trying to figure out how to respond.

“Alright, alright,” he says after a few moments of silence, leaning in to kiss the top of your head. “We can practice. But I’m not promising anything.” He pauses, giving you a playful side-eye. “But, um, I think I’m gonna need a lot of practice…”

“Oh, you definitely will,” you tease, feeling giddy from his adorably shy reaction. You glance at him and grin. “Good thing I’m such a good teacher.”

Jeongin blushes even more, his face a deep shade of red now, but there’s a spark of mischief in his eyes. “Well, I guess if we're practicing…” he starts, trailing off as he leans in for a kiss.

The kiss is slow and tender at first, but as the heat between you builds, you find yourself leaning closer, pressing your body against his. His hands slip under your shirt, sliding up your sides and sending shivers down your spine. Your lips part slightly, and the kiss deepens, the heat intensifying.

He breaks the kiss, looking down at you with a dazed smile. His breathing is heavy and his cheeks are flushed. He reaches down and tugs on the hem of your shirt, and you lift it over your head, letting it fall to the floor.

Jeongin stares down at you, his gaze roaming over every inch of your exposed skin. His fingers graze across your stomach, making goosebumps appear along your skin. He pulls you closer, pressing his lips against your neck. You moan softly, arching your back.

You reach down and slide his shirt over his head, your hands moving over his chest and stomach. He moans as you run your nails lightly over his skin, his breathing becoming heavier.

You look up at him, meeting his gaze, and the fire in his eyes burns bright. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his collarbone. Jeongin groans and pulls you close, his hands sliding up your back and cupping your breasts. You gasp and lean into his touch, arching your back as his lips find yours once more.

The kiss is filled with passion and heat, the two of you becoming lost in the moment. You run your hands down his sides, letting your fingers graze over his abs. He groans into the kiss and you press yourself against him, grinding your hips against his. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

He pulls away slightly, and you can see the hunger in his eyes, the desire written all over his face. His hands roam over your body, exploring every curve, every inch of bare skin. He trails his fingers along your stomach, teasing your navel before sliding lower.

You suck in a breath as he brushes his fingers over the edge of your pants, and his lips curl into a smirk. He leans in, kissing the spot right below your ear. You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound, but his touch makes it impossible. He presses his lips to your neck, and you tilt your head, giving him better access.

He trails kisses along your collarbone and down your chest, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You're amazed at his ability to multitask, your pants somehow already lost on the floor somewhere, as he works his magic with his hands and mouth.

His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your panties, teasing the soft, sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. You let out a gasp as his finger grazes against your clit, and he chuckles softly, his breath hot against your ear.

"You like that?" he whispers, his voice low and husky.

"Yes," you breathe, your eyes half-closed. "So much..."

He slides a finger inside you, his thumb brushing over your clit. You moan, your hips bucking involuntarily, and he adds another finger. He pumps his fingers slowly, teasingly, his thumb circling your clit.

Your breaths come faster and harder as he picks up the pace, his fingers curling inside you. You whimper and squirm, and he pulls back, grinning cutely, a complete contrast to his actions.

"Not yet," he murmurs, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Jeongin, please," you beg, your voice strained.

"Would you rather take my fingers, or me?" he asks, his breath tickling your ear.

You shiver and press your body closer, his skin hot against yours. "You," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He grins and removes his hand from your underwear, tugging them off. He unbuckles his belt, and you help him, both of you working frantically to get him out of his jeans. Once they're gone, he pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. He leans in, capturing your lips with his, and you kiss him hungrily, desperate for him.

You reach down, grasping his length and guiding him towards your entrance. You sink down onto him, a sigh escaping your lips. He fills you completely, stretching you just the right amount, and you rock your hips slowly, adjusting to his size.

Jeongin groans and grips your hips, guiding you as you move against him. You move faster, rolling your hips, and he thrusts upwards, his fingers digging into your skin.

You moan and arch your back, leaning into his touch. He leans forward, capturing a nipple between his lips. He swirls his tongue around it, and you whimper, throwing your head back.

Jeongin continues to thrust up into you, and you ride him, taking him deeper and deeper. He releases your nipple and leans forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

You grab his hand, leading it to lay lightly around your neck as it it's an accessory, a necklace. "Please," you whisper.

He smiles against your lips, tightening his grip ever so slightly. "So, you want this?"

"Mmm hmmm," you murmur, biting your bottom lip. "Use me like you always do."

He smiles, leaning in and nipping your earlobe. "Such a slut," he purrs, his breath hot on your skin.

He flips you to lay on the couch, so he can push you into the couch with his hand wrapped around your neck, making sure you're comfortable.

You nod eagerly, and he tightens his grip, thrusting deep inside you. You cry out, wrapping your legs around his waist. He pounds into you, his eyes never leaving yours, and the pressure around your neck builds.

Your body is on fire, every nerve ending exploding with pleasure, and you know you won't last long. He feels so good, his thick cock hitting all the right spots, and his hand on your neck is driving you crazy.

You moan loudly, and he smirks, quickening his pace. You feel the familiar pressure building inside you, and you cry out, begging him to fuck you harder.

"Yes," he groans, his eyes darkening with lust. "You like that, don't you?"

"Yes, please," you gasp, arching your back. He grunts and pounds into you, his fingers tightening around your neck.

The pressure is almost too much to bear, and you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the sensation. Your orgasm crashes through you, and you cry out, shuddering underneath him.

He groans, his thrusts growing more erratic, and he releases inside you, burying himself to the hilt. You're panting and gasping, your body limp.

Jeongin releases his grip on your neck, and you take a deep breath, a soft smile playing on your lips. He smiles back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he murmurs.

"I love you too," you reply, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss.

Jeongin lays next to you, and the two of you snuggle up close together. You can't keep the smile off your face, and he chuckles, nuzzling your neck.

"When are we getting married?" he asks, his face still buried in your neck.

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

"Both," he laughs, lifting his head and gazing into your eyes.

"You have to propose," you giggle.

"What if I said, 'I'm asking you?'"

"Well, in that case, I'd say yes."

taglist for my babies : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88, @honeyybbuubblleess

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mywritersmind · 20 hours ago

Text

UNCONVENTIONAL - LN4

summary : In which trying to make it home for thanksgiving fails and a cute british driver feels bad.

listen up : no warnings just cuteness! happy thanksgiving to all my americans <33 im thankful for YOU🫵 lando norris x american!driver!reader

word count : 1968

⋆༺

I groan out loud, dropping my phone onto the jet’s seat. “We’re stuck.” Lando sits up from his position across two seats, and frowns.

“Shit.” I look outside of the planes window, seeing the snow and fighting back tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not even december! Snow should not be here!” I wipe my eyes. I know Lando feels bad and I'm not making the situation worse by crying. But I’m having a hard time today because I'm supposed to be with my family.

Lando offered me and some other drivers a ride to Qatar for the next grand prix. Thanksgiving happened to fall the day before media day so I thought I could stop by my parents house and leave that night.

I never particularly loved Thanksgiving, but now that i’m traveling so much because of work, I've learned how much I truly can miss my loved ones.

Lando bites his lip as I sit back down and pull the blanket over me. The pilot informed us that we won’t be getting in the air for a few hours which means we have to go straight to the track instead of seeing my family.

I take a breath, “It’s okay. I appreciate you trying.” I hate crying in front of the guys, even if he is my friend. I hate it because it just plays into the whole emotional woman thing, and even though Lando is one of my best friends, right now I can’t help it.

Lando sits across from me, nudging his foot against mine, “How about we have thanksgiving here?” My head shoots in his direction as he puts on a small smile, “I don’t know a lot about it and I know I'm not your family… but I can try to be a substitute.”

I swallow, wiping my eyes again before I cross my my arms, “How would we even do that?”

I did not expect Lando to take my words as a competition. Still, thirty minutes later I'm sat with a full course meal spread out on the tiny table in between seats. There’s no huge turkey or array of pies, instead we have chicken wraps and fries. We have chips, popcorn, pesto pasta, orange chicken, a bagel, salad, and bread. A bottle of champagne sits next to me as Lando sits down.

His smile is wide as he looks down at the spread, “Good enough?”

“How did you…” I shake my head, laughing, “Yeah it’s good enough! Lando, this is really sweet.”

“It’s my first thanksgiving, I had to make it delicious, even if it is all airport food.” He shrugs and starts pulling things onto his plate. My legs are crossed on the comfortable seat and as I watch him pick his meal, I smile.

I bite into the chicken wrap that’s actually delicious. Lando taps on his phone before music starts playing over the speakers.

I smile at him as he chews, “So… what do Americans usually do on thanksgiving?”

I shrug and sip some champagne, “Eat, gossip, be thankful?”

“Okay! Let’s gossip then. Sounds easy enough.” Hes ridiculously committed to the bit and I adore him for it, “Did you know Franco’s signed with RB?” I start coughing, practically choking on my food.

“What!?” I scream.

Lando’s laughing now, “No I don’t actually know, I just couldn’t think of anything else.” I kick him under the table as he gasps.

“That’s evil! I got so excited.” I’m laughing with him now, our food picked apart and a mess in front of us. “What are you thankful for?”

He thinks for a moment, a curl falling into his face that makes my stomach flip a little. “Mmm… My family and friends.”

“That’s too generic. It’s thanksgiving- get deep, Norris.” He gives me a slight smirk before nodding.

“I’m thankful that the championship talk is over. I’m thankful for Chicken wraps.” He holds his up, proudly as I roll my eyes. “And I'm thankful for you.”

I’m a tad bit shocked, “For me?” I expect him to say something stupid or flirty, but he’s dead serious.

“You’re a really good person. I like being around you and for that, I'm grateful.” He raises his glass and I hit it with mine, “Now go on, brag about me.”

I roll my eyes, back to smiling humorously, “I’m thankful that I'm not alone right now.” His eyes don’t stray away from mine, “And I’m thankful for snow. Even if it’s pissing me off, it’s very pretty.”

We both look out the window in sync, the snow still falling. The runway is fully white, matching the trees and wing of the plane.

When I look back at Lando, he’s already looking at me. His face is relaxed, his freckles prominent and curls perfect. “Do you want to go?” I say suddenly as his expression turns confused.

“We can’t yet, we still have like two hours.”

A smile tugs at my lips, “I mean outside.”

He looks hesitant, “It’s freezing.”

I stand and grab my suitcase, unzipping it and pulling out my puffer jacket at record speed, “Did I mention every thanksgiving, something really random but really fun happens?” It’s true, for some reason this holiday brings out funny stories. “You’re not scared of some snow, are you Norris?” I step closer, narrowing my eyes.

He stands, grabbing his own jacket, “I’m just saying, don’t come complaining when you’re freezing and wet.”

“Me!?” I scoff, zipping up my jacket, “You’re the one who needs four layers for a sunny day.”

⋆༺

LANDO

I’m freezing my ass off but I would rather become a human icicle than tear my eyes away from her smile. She’s giggling and running into the snow, twirling around as snowflakes fall into her hair.

“Don’t slip, Y/n!” I yell after her as she turns around, the biggest smile on her face.

Her hand goes to wipe the hair that’s being blown in her face, snow falling around her, “Come catch me, Norris.”

I roll my eyes and hurry over to her as she laughs and dances around. I can’t help but laugh with her, it’s fucking contagious.

She sticks her tongue out, leaning her head back to catch snowflakes. Y/n is so perfectly caught in the haze of the snow and light peaking through the clouds that she looks like an angel.

She pokes my cheek and holds onto my jacket as if she’s about to fall. “Your nose is red.”

“You should get a job in detective work if the whole driving thing doesn’t work out…” She scoffs loudly and punches me in the arm.

Unfortunately, she’s stronger than she looks and because the ground is icy, we’re both falling seconds later.

She lands on top of me, laughing so hard that she’s crying, “Fuck! Are you okay!?”

“Like you care!” I sit up, holding her tightly still.

She laughs and plops down next to me, laying her head back and arms out. “Oh no-”

“Angel time, Norris!” She screams at me.

“I’m going to become snow!”

She doesn’t respond, just stretches her arms and legs out and waves them back and forth to make the snow part below her.

Something about her is my weakness and I honestly can’t complain when she looks so happy. I join her, my hair getting soaked and her laughs making me smile.

I make my angel in peace as snow floats down from the sky, landing on my face. I hear the rustle of her jacket as she turns her head to me, “Thank you.”

I smile softly, examining her face and the snowflakes that melt as soon as they touch her skin. “You’re welcome. I’m sorry that I'm not your family.”

She lets out a breath, “You’re my found family. That’s close enough.” her words make my heart beat faster, “Even if you are British and your first thanksgiving was on a grounded plane.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any other way. Although, next year we should try for a more friendsgiving approach. Maybe with the whole grid?” Her smile grows as she looks up at the sky.

“I'm very down for that.” As i’m mentally tracing her side profile in her mind, a voice and light comes very loud.

“You two!” I realize we’re in trouble instantly and stand up as fast as I can, slipping all over the place as the voice gets louder and the flashlight shines directly towards us.

Y/n is trying to get up with me but she’s laughing and slipping so it’s significantly harder. I grab her hand and we make a run for it, up the stairs and into the warm cabin. The door shuts behind us and I lean my head against the wall, sighing in relief of not being caught making snow angels.

Y/n is breathing heavily across from me, a smile permanent on her face as she looks at me. Her hair is wet and I'm sure mine is the same. I can’t feel my hands and I couldn’t care less.

“You look like a popsicle!” Y/n takes her hands and wraps them over mine, getting close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin.

I’d like to pretend that what happened next was a symptom of my cold state, but I’ve never been a good liar.

As soon as she looks up at me, her eyes big and glassy, I lean down and kiss her. Her lips are warm despite her cold hands gripping my own and as soon as she pulls back, I swear.

“Fuck. I’m sorry-” I didn’t even ask! God, I'm an asshole and now I'm completely stuck. Would I die if I ran outside and hid in the woods?

But she doesn’t look mad. She looks… pleased? Her hand slips out of my reach and moves to the side of my neck, “Don’t be.”

And then she kisses me. I think I blackout because I have no clue how long we’ve been kissing but I do know that I'm now completely defrosted and warm.

“You okay?” I whisper as Y/n pulls away.

She nods, “Thanks for kissing me.”

I laugh, “You’re very welcome. Thanks for kissing me back.”

She smiles again backs up a bit, fiddling with her rings, “So… was that just a thanksgiving thing or a way to warm up or…?”

I’m smiling big now, moving my hands under her jacket as she squirms because of the temperature, “I’ve been waiting for that to happen so if you limit me to once a year, i’ll be pretty sad.”

She nods, biting back a smile, “Good to know!” She slips away from me and pulls off her jacket, sitting in a seat and pulling her blanket around her shoulders.

I slowly walk so I’m in front of her again. She’s smiling at the floor, motioning me to come sit, “There’s one more thanksgiving tradition I do every year.”

She pulls out her ipad and scoots closer to me, I feel like i’m dreaming. “And that is…?”

She clears her throat, still avoiding eye contact.

“The Thanksgiving episode of Gossip Girl!” She starts rattling on about the backstories and starts the episode but i’m still stuck on her face and how her eyes won’t meet mine.

“Y/n…” I say it softly, bringing my hand to her chin and turning her face to look at me. She’s blushing. I don’t think I've ever seen her blush.

“Mhm?” She sounds like a mouse.

I brush her wet hair out of her face and press a soft kiss against her cheek, “I really like thanksgiving.” She just smiles and nestles into my side, my arm around her.

She lets me have some of the blanket and whispers, “I really do too.”

#fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris fluff

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poguehearted77 · 15 hours ago

Note

Imagine y’all just had the fight of your lives (maybe over his dumb gun or something equally Rafe), but later when you’re lying on opposite sides of the bed, he reaches out and pulls you close and says somthing cute or annoying idk And then, oh my GOD—it’s slow, emotional, and HOT because making up with Rafe would be next-level intense. please i NEEED😫😩

OH MY GOD YES. SOME SWEET RAFE AND EVEN SWEETER MAKE UP SEX AFTER A HUGE FIGHT. NEED IT.

#2 from my drabble game

smut: penetrative sex, some praise, I love you's, unprotected sex

Rafe is in deep shit.

You know that, he knows that-- hell, even your pet beagle, Poppy knew it. For once, she bolted away the moment the front door opened, and your oh-so-handsome, conniving and deceitful boyfriend walked in instead of running towards him.

Rafe is a dead man walking. How ironic would it be if he were to die at your hands with the very same gun he'd promised you he'd gotten rid of.

His body goes rigid when he sees the weapon in your palm. A nervous gulp falls down his throat as he does his best to stand tall. "Where did you get that?" That's what he asks you, he should've never opened his mouth.

You scoff immediately, carelessly angling it around as your upset mannerisms control your arms. "Get it? You mean where did I find it." He doesn't respond which is a wise choice.

"Mr. Montogommery called me earlier, he was looking for you--said you weren't answering your phone. He asked me to leave you a message," You're pacing now, and it made Rafe nervous. You're a little crazy, but so was he. It's why you went so well together.

"Like the good girlfriend I am, I opened your office drawer for a sticky note to leave on your desk, but what did I find? The same gun you told me would never be back in the house, Rafe are you serious?!" Your arms are flailing and he's half-certain he'll catch a stray by the end of the conversation.

He steps towards you with his hands up cautiously, "Baby, give me the gun, and we can talk about this." You snap, "No! Why should I? You don't trust me with it? Why because it's dangerous? Because it could kill you! You're right, Rafe. Why didn't I think of that sooner--oh wait, I did! And you fucking lied to me, Rafe."

Your voice is enraged and bouncing off the ivory-panelled walls of the house but it dies down to a shaky one as tears threaten to spill over the brims of your eyes. "Y/n-" He holds his hand out for you, but you give him the gun instead.

You execute a sharp pivot on the tips of your toes, ready to walk away from him but he finally speaks up and you stop--not turning around, standing still, anticipating. "I'm not getting rid of the gun." It's all he says.

Had you been in the mood, you would've turned around, lounged at him and strangled him, but no, you just kept walking.

Your bedroom is freezing that night, despite it being the middle of summer, and it only gets colder everytime you glance towards Rafe as he gets ready for the bed you begrudgingly shared.

Your expression remains sour, even in your sleep, no matter how far away from your boyfriend you are. There's enough room to fit a full-grown adult between you. The isolation was holding the production of your melatonin hostage, forcing you both to lay awake, backs facing each other but hearts reaching out.

Rafe flips onto his side, staring longingly at the back of your frame. He missed you and you were right in front of him. "Baby," His voice is soft, and the pet name lands on you gently, a testament that your anger has subsided a bit.

You turn over, choosing to lie on your back and face the ceiling. You deem that he's undeserving to see your face at the moment. "I've got another gun in my nightstand." You blamed your miscomprehension on the late hours of the night because surely he did not just say what you think he said.

Rafe can see the way your chest began to rise and fall at a much more shallow pace, he had about five seconds to start explaining before you turned on him. "I told you about my past. I've done some bad things. 'Burying the hatchet' doesn't exist for everyone, and I want to be prepared for anything. When I look at a gun now, it's not a weapon anymore, it's a tool. It's protection."

Your breathing slowed, a little. He takes it as a good sign. "I can't lose you. If something happened to you when I could've prevented it, I'd never forgive myself, and I know you know that." He's right. You did know that. He dedicated his life to you, making sure that you knew that. "I shouldn't have lied about getting rid of it, and I'm sorry."

Your breathing returns to its normal pace. You lay on your side, now facing him. "Fine." Rafe scoots closer to you, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Fine?" You nod, "Yeah, fine. I forgive you, this time, but don't you ever pull some shit like this again or so help me god I will-" He quiets you with a sweet kiss.

Well, it started sweet at least.

Now you're both watching him slide in. Your warm cunt wrapped around his length delightfully. "You're fuckin' perfect, too good f'me." He groans into your ear. His muscular arms cage you in, and you've decided you'd be more than happy to die between them.

Your soft moans bounced off his brawny chest and right back in your face, "Feels so good, Rafe-" Yougaspedp as he picked up the pace, hips rolling into yours for a much deeper angle. Your back arches off the bed slightly as sweat rolls down your back and sticks to the sheets.

It wasn't long before you were both chasing your highs. Rafe always sounded so fucking hot when he was close, his deep groans pitching up to breathless whines when you purposefully clenched around him, threatening him to fill you up unrestrained. Once you came, he pulled out and finished on your heaving stomach, catching your breath.

He doesn't get off of you just yet. He balances himself on one forearm as the other hand comes up to gently move the strands of hair from your face, "I love you," he means it, his eyes say it when his mouth does. "I love you".

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gilbirda · 21 hours ago

Text

House limped into the hospital and immediately tried to turn around to leave.

"House!"

He froze, knowing that Cuddy would follow him to the deepest pit of hell if needed. It was her most annoying trait.

"House—"

"Well, good day to you too, Cuddy." He sighed, leaning on his cane. People walked past, barely giving them a glance. He noticed a folder in her hands. "You have a gift for me?"

"I have a job for you."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Is this you finally snapping and firing me? I thought I was your favorite doctor."

"You are not," she snapped, pushing the folder to his chest, "and you are not fired. Yet." She added with a pointed look. "I already spoke to your team, they will take over your patient for today."

"I have a patient."

"Had. Now you don't." Cuddy turned around, looking over her shoulder. "the car will pick you in fifteen minutes."

Car? House didn't open the folder, trying to gauge what could have happened to make Cuddy get rid of her best doctor this quickly. Money, probably. Specially since a car was going to pick him up.

Some rich dude with an ouchie needed a private doctor? Sure. He could do this.

In and out. Piece of cake.

***

It was not a piece of cake.

Mostly because this was the most uncooperative patient he had. Ever.

"Where were you when the... accident happened?"

He was trying his best, promise. The moment the car picked him up, an expensive black Mercedes being driven by an actual modern day butler, House knew that he was right. Some rich guy was willing to pay crazy amount of money to have Gregory House do a house call. Well, a mansion call.

But the guy was not giving him anything to work with.

Also his whole damn family was hovering and he couldn't think!

"I was camping."

It was a lie, of course. But Bruce goddamn Wayne had asked for him, personally, to be brought all the way to Gotham to treat him. Why was he being so uncooperative?

"We think it's some kind of poison." The elder son, whose name he had already mocked enough times that it stopped being funny, interjected. Somehow he make House miss Chase.

"You think."

They had a lot of thoughts. Thoughts they kept talking about.

He couldn't hear himself think.

House took a deep breath, tapped the fancy wooden floor with his cane. "Look," he looked at Bruce in the eye, "I know you are lying. I don't know what you are, but I understand if there is some kind of... double life you rather not say. A dark secret," he lifted his eyebrows, "maybe something you do a night?"

Of course he knew this man was the Dark Knight of Gotham himself. It wasn't hard, if you were paying attention. Even Foreman would have been able to figure it out.

Mr. Wayne's facial expression hardened. Even in a lot of pain and probably with more broken bones he admitted to, he tried to intimidate him.

"You won't—"

"I don't care about any of that, of course." House twirled his cane, glancing at the circus hanging around them with bated breath. Probably the rest of the superhero gang. "I only care about whatever is wrong with you. Apart from the whole dressing as a furry and beating the shit out of people for fun," he shrugged, "but I've met rich people with weirdest hobbies, so. More morbid curiosity that professional concern."

He let his cane down and tapped it again, watching Bruce Wayne's expressions change at high speed.

"Now, will you be honest with me or are you going to keep wasting everyone's time?"

i need Dr. House to be Batman's temporary doctor for a month while Dr. Leslie Tompkins is recovering from some sort of rogue activity.

#never in my life i thought i would write this crossover #but i think my autistic interest in malpractice show is paying off #dont think i can continue this but oh boy this idea is delightful

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hoshifighting · 2 days ago

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ok... so i've seen your amazing college fling works for seungcheol, jeonghan, and joshua.... but what about one for hoshi 👉👈

ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOUR WRITING!!!! ❤️❤️❤️

WARNINGS: freshmen!hoshi, late night practices, burn-out, shyness, sunbae!reader, fluff, a lil bit of angst.

WC: 2.8k of this... judge me 🗣needed to divide this into parts...

part 1 / part 2

college fling!hoshi that you clocked that he was a freshman by the very moment he stepped into the dance practice room. it started with the smell, honestly. freshman reek—like nervous sweat and too much axe body spray, paired with the faintest whiff of fear. baggy-ass hoodie that practically swallowed his arms, hands shoved deep in his pockets like they’d get fined if they came out, sneakers so new they squeaked against the gym floor. he looked young. not in a bad way, just in that “i’m not used to being left unsupervised” way.

he stood in the doorway like he didn’t know what to do with himself. everyone else was stretching, pulling their limbs into shapes human joints probably weren’t meant for, and there he was, swaying on the balls of his feet like a kid waiting to ask if they could borrow a crayon.

“you lost?” you called out, not even looking up from where you were sitting, tying your shoelaces.

“huh? n-no, i’m, uh—this is intro to hip-hop?”

the way he said it like a question had you biting back a grin. “yeah, you’re in the right place. c’mon in before the instructor roasts your ass for lurking.”

he shuffled in, taking a spot in the back corner like he was hoping no one would notice him. “i'm invisible if i stand still enough”, he thinks. but of course, everyone noticed him. new kid energy was impossible to ignore, and to top it off, he had that awkwardly cute thing going on. messy bangs falling into his eyes, face pink like he was one awkward comment away from combusting. his eyes, wide and curious, darting around like he was mentally cataloging every single thing in the room.

“you got a name, freshman?” you asked, leaning back on your hands as you watched him.

he blinked, like he didn’t realize you were still talking to him. “oh, uh, hoshi. i mean, soonyoung. but people call me hoshi.”

“cool. you dance before, hoshi?”

“alright, new guy!” the prof clapped his hands, dragging everyone’s attention. “show us a little freestyle! don't be shy...”

college fling!hoshi who freezes mid-blink, still thinking about your question. clutching his backpack straps so hard you thought they might snap. he turned to you, wide-eyed and panicked, like you could save him from the impending doom.

“relax,” you whispered, stepping closer, your voice low enough that only he could hear. “you do this and sunbae’s buying you dinner. whatever you want. ramen, fried chicken, you name it.”

he blinked, like the concept of being spoiled by you was enough to short-circuit his brain, but there was something there. a spark. like maybe he didn’t wanna flop in front of you.

“okay,” he mumbled, and you gave him a grin that could probably power a small city.

“attaboy,” you said, patting his shoulder as you turned back to the class.

by the end of the first class, he’d loosened up a bit—mostly because the instructor made everyone run through improv drills, and there was no room for shyness when you were flailing around to some experimental old-school rap track. you caught him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

college fling!hoshi who finally zipped up his backpack after what felt like an eternity, stood up, and immediately knocked over a water bottle with his foot. he muttered a quick, shy “sorry,” barely glancing at the offended plastic, and shuffled toward you. his shoulders were stiff, his hands gripping the straps of his backpack like they were the only things tethering him to this earth. you gave him a once-over, your phone in one hand, and a smirk playing at your lips. “you survived,” you said casually, and his grin was so tiny you almost missed it.

college fling!hoshi who started walking alongside you, a little too close like he didn’t know how to pace himself yet. every few steps, his elbow brushed yours, and he’d shift just enough to make it obvious he noticed. you didn’t say anything—just side-eyed him with a teasing smile that had his ears turning red.

college fling!hoshi who paused outside the building with you, his fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on his sleeve as he asked, “so, uh… what do you like to eat?” his voice was barely louder than the passing breeze. you raised an eyebrow at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “you’re really gonna let me pick, huh?” he nodded, determined, even as he shuffled his feet. “you said you’d spoil me,” he countered, and for the first time, there was a flicker of sass in his tone. you liked it.

college fling!hoshi who almost tripped on his untied shoelace when you said you’d pick a place, his backpack slipping off one shoulder as he bent down to fix it. he was mumbling something about bad luck when you crouched beside him, yanking the lace from his hands and tying it with a quick knot. “you’re gonna kill yourself before dinner at this rate,” you said, and the way he stared at you—wide-eyed, lips parted—made it feel like you’d just handed him the keys to the kingdom.

college fling!hoshi who sat across from you at the tiny chicken shop, looking at the menu like it was a math test. “it’s just chicken, dude,” you teased, propping your chin in your hand. he fumbled with the laminated page, finally blurting, “but what if I pick something too spicy?” you laughed, shaking your head. “okay, rookie, let me help you out.” you ended up ordering for both of you, and when the dish came, his eyes lit up.

college fling!hoshi who distractly puts too much sauce on his chicken wing and doesn’t notice because he was too busy grinning at your stories. “wait, wait—so you fell during a performance?” he asked, the sauce at the corner of his mouth. you groaned, throwing a napkin at him. “it wasn’t just a fall, okay? it was a crash,” you admitted, and his laugh was so loud the couple at the next table glanced over. “stop making fun of me or I’ll make you pay,” you threatened, and his face instantly sobered. “wait, what?”

college fling!hoshi who insisted on paying despite your earlier threats. he pulled out his wallet like it was some grand declaration of independence, only to hesitate when he realized he didn’t have enough cash. “um…” he started, cheeks burning. you rolled your eyes and handed your card to the cashier before he could protest. “rookie rule number one,” you said smugly, “always check your wallet before acting like a big shot.” he muttered something about repaying you, and you just laughed, nudging him toward the door.

college fling!hoshi who got lost again on the way back to his dorm, despite the fact that he’d been living there for a week. “are you serious right now?” you asked, watching him squint at the campus map on his phone. he scratched the back of his head, mumbling, “it all kinda looks the same at night.” sighing, you grabbed his phone, pulled up the map yourself, and started walking. “come on, hoshi-ya you’re hopeless.”

college fling!hoshi who walked beside you, hands in his pockets, quietly humming a tune you didn’t recognize. “what’s that?” you asked, tilting your head toward him. his eyes widened like he’d been caught. “oh, uh, just something I made up,” he admittedquietly. you stopped in your tracks, turning to him with a grin. “wait, you write music?” he shrugged, suddenly bashful. “a little… it’s not a big deal.” you nudged him with your shoulder. “nah, that’s cool as hell. show me sometime?”

college fling!hoshi who hesitated outside his dorm door, hand hovering over the handle. “thanks for… you know, today,” he said, glancing at you shyly. “and dinner.” you smirked, crossing your arms. “you earned it, rookie. but next time, you’re paying.” his smile stretched wide, and for a moment, he just stood there, like he didn’t want to go in. finally, he nodded, fumbling with the key. “goodnight, sunbae,” he said softly, and you had to resist the urge to ruffle his hair as you turned to leave.

college fling!hoshi who always trails behind you, holding onto the strap of your backpack like a lost puppy. “you’re gonna rip it, you know,” you tell him, but he just grins and tightens his grip. “you’re my sunbae. gotta make sure I don’t lose you.” it’s so dumb and cheesy that you flick his forehead, but your chest feels warmer anyway.

college fling!hoshi who managed to charm his way into your friend group like he’d been there all along. one of your music department friends spotted him loitering outside your lecture hall and asked, “is that the guy you’ve been dragging around campus?” you rolled your eyes, but hoshi smiled like he’d just won an award. “that’s me!” he said proudly, and somehow by the end of the conversation, they were swapping playlist recommendations.

college fling!hoshi who shows up at your dorm one night with a bruised knee and a sheepish smile. “i tripped during practice,” he admits, wincing as you drag him inside. “tripped or collapsed?” you demand, pointing at the ice pack in his hands. he shrugs, trying to play it off, but you’re already crouched in front of him, scolding him as you press the ice to his knee. “you should stop, sunbae its worried about you.” you mutter, and when he mumbles, “i’ll be fine,” you glare at him until he mutters an apology instead.

college fling!hoshi who gets into his first real argument with you after you find him practicing in an empty studio way past midnight. “what the hell are you doing?” you snap, flipping on the lights to find him mid-spin, sweat dripping down his face. “just a bit more,” he protests, breathless. “i need to get this routine perfect.” but you’re not having it. “perfect doesn’t matter if you’re too dead to perform, hoshi!” he flinches, wide-eyed, but you don’t stop. “you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. stop before you break something.” he looks at you, frustrated, and finally, he slumps onto the floor, whispering, “sorry, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who randomly shows up with snacks between your classes. “figured you’d be hungry,” he says, handing you a convenience store bag. you peek inside—your favorite drink and a pack of cookies. “didn’t know you were trying to bribe me,” you tease, taking a bite. “is it working?” he asks, grinning, and when you give him a thumbs-up, he beams like a kid on christmas morning.

college fling!hoshi who ends up crashing at your dorm after a long night of studying. he’s sprawled on your bed, one arm thrown over his face, while you sit cross-legged on the floor, typing away at your laptop. “you’re gonna fail if you don’t actually read the material,” you say, glancing up. he groans, rolling onto his side. “then i’ll just ask you to tutor me again,” he says, smirking, and you chuck a pillow at his head.

college fling!hoshi who catches you off-guard one day by slipping his jacket over your shoulders during a chilly walk across campus. “you looked cold,” he says simply, his voice softer than usual. you pull the fabric tighter around you, the faint scent of him lingering on it, and when you glance at him, he’s pretending to be super interested in a tree. “thanks,” you say quietly, and he shrugs, his ears turning pink as he mutters, “anytime, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who came back one day to the practice room after a late practice, two cans of soda in hand, humming to himself. “sunbae, I got—” his voice cut off when he saw you slouched on the floor, one hand clutching your forehead. “y/n?” he rushed over, dropping the sodas with a dull clunk. crouching in front of you, his voice softened. “what’s wrong? are you okay?” you waved him off weakly. “just tired. it’s nothing.” but he didn’t buy it for a second.

college fling!hoshi who gently pried your hand away from your forehead, his fingers brushing against yours. “you’re burning up,” he said, his brow furrowing. “why didn’t you say anything?” you tried to sit up straighter, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “it’s fine, really. just pushed too hard today.” his expression tightened. “this isn’t fine, y/n. you shouldn’t have kept going if you felt like this.”

college fling!hoshi who helped you lean back against the mirror. “stay still, okay?” he murmured, crouching next to you. you gave him a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “you’re acting like I’m dying, hoshi.” he didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “don’t joke about that,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of improvement.

college fling!hoshi who let you rest your head against his shoulder when you slumped forward again. “here, like this,” he said softly, adjusting so you were cradled in his arms. his hands were steady, one supporting your back and the other brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “just relax. you’re safe.” he started gently blowing on your face, the cool air soothing your heated skin. “better?” he whispered, his voice close enough to send a strange flutter through your chest.

college fling!hoshi who stayed with you until you could sit up on your own again, his arm still lingering behind your back just in case. “you scared me,” he admitted, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “i thought… what if something happened and I wasn’t here?” you blinked up at him, guilt bubbling in your stomach. “sorry,” you muttered. his hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “just don’t do it again, okay? i mean it, you always scold me for practicing too late...”

college fling!hoshi who refused to let you walk home by yourself, no matter how many times you insisted you were fine. “nope, not happening,” he said firmly, slipping your bag over his shoulder along with his own. “if you collapse halfway there, what am I supposed to do? carry you like a princess?” you snorted, but the teasing tone in his voice couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes.

“you know, I could really get used to you carrying me around,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. he raised an eyebrow, glancing at you. “oh, really?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “yeah,” you said, deadpan, “I mean, who wouldn’t want a cute guy carrying them everywhere?”

college fling!hoshi who, despite the teasing tone in your voice, caught that little glint in your eye. “alright, then,” he said, voice suddenly serious, as he paused in front of you. “come here.” without waiting for a response, he slid his arms under your knees and around your back. you yelped in surprise, but before you could protest, he had you lifted off the ground like you were weightless. “you wanted it, right?” he said with a grin, carrying you like it was nothing. “not a word out of you until we get to your dorm.”

“you’re a natural at this,” you teased, your chin resting on his shoulder as you looked up at him. “yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep you from passing out on me,” he muttered, but his cheeks were flushed, and his hands felt like they were holding you just a bit too tightly. “this isn’t bad,” you added with a smirk, “maybe I’ll start making demands. like, no more walking for me from now on.”

he blushed at your joke but didn’t miss a beat. “you sure about that?” he asked, glancing down at you with a sly smile. you nodded, playing along. “definitely. I’m a princess now. I’ll need snacks, water, a blanket... and don’t forget the back rubs.” hoshi shook his head, clearly trying to hide his amusement. “I’m pretty sure you’re taking this way too far, but okay,” he said, adjusting his grip on you. “I can do all that...”

“deal. but only if you don’t drop me halfway there,” you teased. hoshi’s grip tightened, his voice lowering a little. “I’ll never drop you, sunbae.”

college fling!hoshi who made it to your dorm room, still carrying you as if it was the most normal thing in the world. “I should’ve known you’d enjoy this,” he said, shaking his head as he set you down on your bed. “enjoy what?” you asked innocently, grinning up at him. “this whole ‘being carried around’ thing,” he said, still laughing a little. you shrugged dramatically.

college fling!hoshi who would come up to you after class, always fussing over you—was your shoulder okay? did you stretch enough? how was your lunch? you’d always brush it off, sulking a little at the way he took care of you like it was his full-time job.

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leahwllmsn · 2 days ago

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yes, and?

leah williamson x reader

word count: 0.7k

You weren’t having a good Monday morning. Some stranger decided to make it even worse.

“Where do you think you’re going?!”

Despite your loud voice, the blonde didn’t turn around, she kept on walking, eyes glued to her phone. You huffed before you caught up to the blonde and grabbed her shoulder.

That was when you realized a guy in a suit glaring at you the moment your hand touched her.

You gulped, slowly retracting your hand.

The blonde finally turned around, despite the sunglasses covering half her face, you could see the annoyed look plastered on her face clear as day.

“You bumped into my bike and you didn’t even bother to pick it up,” you said, pointing to your bicycle that was on the ground. “Can you not play with your phone while you walk?”

The blonde exhaled loudly before taking off her sunglasses. (You would be lying if you said you didn’t find her ocean blue eyes mesmerizing.)

“What do you want?”

“Oh I don’t know,” you scoffed, waving your hands in the air. “If you bump into something until it falls, the least you could do is put it back in its place.”

For a few seconds, she didn’t say anything, her eyes busy scanning your features. She then took a step forward, a sly smile on her lips. “Do you know who I am?”

“No,” you crossed your arms. “Should I?”

The blonde looked taken aback. “Do you live under a rock?”

You sighed. “What does this have to do with you pushing my bike to the ground?”

“I guess your bicycle was in my way.”

“Unbeliev—” you groaned. “It’s parked against the wall!”

“Okay? I don’t care,” the blonde shrugged.

You took a deep breath and flashed her a forced smile. Could your day get any worse? First you got fired, then you had to deal with some rude blonde with a gorgeous face and a sexy voice—

“So can I go now?”

You looked at her. She had a white t-shirt on with a pair of jeans, and despite her height, she still had a pair of high-heels on. If the blonde wasn’t so irritating, you would’ve shamelessly flirted with her.

“Do I at least get an apology?” you asked back, a small part of you didn’t want her to leave so soon.

She looked at you as if you had just said the most ridiculous thing in the world.

“What? My bike probably has some scratches now thanks to you.”

The blonde laughed. She laughed. You furrowed your brows, which part of your sentence was funny?

She took another step forward and you gulped. You could smell the expensive perfume she was wearing, and with the smirk that was starting to appear on her lips, you didn’t know how you could be so attracted to someone you just met.

Someone with such a shitty attitude.

“I’ll buy you a new bicycle, if it’ll get you to shut up.”

You were taken aback. “What?”

She motioned for the guy in the suit to come close, whispering in his ear the moment he did so. After a few seconds, she turned back to you and flashed you a smug smile. She put her sunglasses back on and turned around to walk away.

You stood still, mouth agape. Not even a goodbye? Who did she think she was?

You were about to walk after her when the guy put his hand in front of you, holding out a piece of card. “Miss, this is my contact information. Message me your address and I’ll have the bicycle shipped to you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“The bicycle,” the guy motioned at your bicycle. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one.”

“Miss Williamson?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. “Miss Williamson.”

When you took his card and didn’t say anything else, he gave a small bow and left.

You stared at the card in your hand, mouth still agape. You didn’t even ask for a new bicycle, you just wanted the blonde to be a decent human being.

You sighed, putting the card in your pocket. “Miss Williamson would like to buy you a new one,” you mocked. You bent down to pick up your bicycle and you freezed—Miss Williamson… And that face… You felt like you had seen her before.

You shook it off. Probably someone you served coffee to.

You got on your bike and started cycling home. Even though the blonde was a bit rude, a part of you wished you bumped into each other again.

(Not because you wanted to hear her ridiculously sexy voice again.)

(Only because she still owed you an apology.)

(Definitely not because of that accent.)

#leah williamson x reader #woso #woso community #woso x reader #awfc x reader #leah williamson

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dollyhyuckii · 2 days ago

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ASKING THE DREAMIES (NCT DREAM) TO GO OUT

hyung nct dream! x fem reader!⋆୨୧˚ word count-over 2.k words ⋆୨୧˚

summary-asking nct dream if you can go out⋆୨୧˚

cw- this is part 1!, part 2 is here!, everything is lower case on purpose ⋆୨୧˚

an- hii, this is my series of nct dream scenarios!, jaemin, chenle and jisung are in my part two!, theme inspiration and prompt credits go too-@ohmygs-blog, requests for this series are always open,

MARK⋆୨୧˚

the soft hum of a melody drifted through the apartment as you approached mark. he was seated at his desk, a notebook open in front of him, pencil twirling lazily in his fingers. the guitar resting on his knee had clearly been abandoned for the moment, though the occasional strum suggested he was still thinking about his song.

you hesitated in the doorway, chewing your lip. interrupting mark when he was deep in his creative flow always made you nervous, even though he’d never once complained. as if sensing your presence, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled, his dimples making your heart melt.

“hey, baby,” he said, setting the guitar down and turning his chair to face you fully. “what’s up? you’ve got that look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”

you laughed nervously and stepped into the room, playing with the hem of your sweater. “it’s not a big favor. I just… wanted to ask if it’s okay if i go out tonight. the girls invited me, but i don’t have to go if you want me to stay.”

mark blinked at you, his expression softening with a mix of amusement and affection. “why do you always ask like you need my permission? of course, you can go, baby. you don’t have to check in with me.”

“i know, i know,” you replied quickly. “i just feel bad leaving you here by yourself.”

he chuckled, standing up and crossing the room to you. “you’re not leaving me stranded on a deserted island, babe. you’re going out for a few hours. besides,” he added, pulling you into his arms, “i think you deserve a night out baby. you’ve been working so hard lately.”

you melted into his embrace, the tension leaving your shoulders. “are you sure? i don’t want you to feel like i’m ditching you.”

mark leaned back slightly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “i’m sure. the only thing I’ll feel bad about is if my pretty baby doesn’t send me a selfie before she leave. you always look so pretty when you dress up, and i don’t want to miss out.”

you laughed, swatting lightly at his chest. “fine, i’ll send you a picture. but don’t complain if I take too long deciding what to wear.”

“i’d never complain,” he said with a wink. “though if you want some advice, you should wear that little black dress. you know the one.”

“oh, so now you’re giving fashion advice?” you teased.

“just trying to be helpful,” he shot back with a grin. he stepped back, grabbing his guitar again but pausing before sitting. “seriously, though. go out and have fun, okay? don’t overthink it. just text me when you’re there so i know you’re safe.”

you nodded, smiling as warmth spread through your chest. “thanks, markie. you’re the best.”

“i know,” he said, plucking a playful chord on his guitar. “but I’ll be even better if you bring me back dessert.”

“noted,” you replied with a laugh, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead before heading to get ready.

RENJUN⋆୨୧˚

renjun was stretched out on the couch when you found him, a sketchbook balanced on his knees and a pencil in hand. his brows furrowed in concentration as his hand moved deftly across the page. the soft sounds of music floated from the speaker, blending perfectly with the calm atmosphere of your shared space.

you stood there for a moment, just watching him. he looked so peaceful, his focus entirely on the details of his drawing. but you had plans to go out tonight, and you didn’t want to leave without checking in with him.

clearing your throat gently, you walked over and perched on the armrest beside him. renjun glanced up at you, his sharp eyes softening the moment he saw your face.

“my pretty girl,” he smiled as he greeted you, his lips quirking into a small smile. “what’s up? you look like you’re about to ask me something.”

you bit your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sweater. “i, uh… i wanted to ask if it’s okay if i go out tonight. the girls invited me, and i figured i’d go, but i don’t want you to feel like i’m leaving you here by yourself.”

renjun tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “since when do you need my permission to go out pretty?”

you rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “i don’t need permission, renjun. i just want to make sure you’re okay with it.”

he chuckled softly, setting his sketchbook and pencil aside before turning his full attention to you. “why wouldn’t i be okay with it? you should go have fun with your friends. it’s not like i’ll be sitting here waiting for you to come back,” he added, though the playful smirk on his lips betrayed him.

“uh-huh,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “i know you, renjun. you’ll act all cool and indifferent, but then you’ll text me a hundred times to make sure i’m safe.”

“first of all,” he replied, feigning offense, “i’d text maybe five times, max. and second, can you blame me for caring about my pretty girl?”

you laughed, leaning down to rest your forehead against his. “no, i can’t. and i love that about you. but seriously, are you sure you’re okay with it? i don’t have to go if you want me to stay.”

renjun sighed, his hands finding their way to yours. “you always do this. you act like i’m some overprotective boyfriend who doesn’t want you to have a life outside of me.”

“because sometimes you are,” you teased, earning a mock glare from him.

“okay, fair,” he admitted with a grin. “but this time, i mean it. go out, have fun, and don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine. besides,” he added, leaning back against the couch, “this just gives me more time to work on my art without distractions.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “distractions?”

“the cute kind,” he clarified quickly, pulling you down into his lap with a laugh. “you’re my favorite distraction, but even i need a break sometimes.”

you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “fine. I’ll go. but you better not forget to text me back when i send you updates.”

“deal,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “and don’t forget to send me a picture before you leave. i like knowing what you’re wearing so i can tell you how stunning you look.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you said, though your heart fluttered at his words.

“only for my pretty girl,” he replied, his voice warm and sincere.

with a final kiss, you slipped off his lap and headed to your room to get ready, feeling lighter and more loved than ever.

JENO⋆୨୧˚

the sound of the game controller clicking filled the room as jeno sat cross-legged on the floor, fully engrossed in the match playing out on the tv screen. his posture was relaxed, but his focus was razor sharp, his fingers moving swiftly as he worked to defeat whatever opponent was on the other side of the screen.

you stood by the doorway for a moment, debating how to bring up your plans for the night. jeno wasn’t the type to get overly possessive or upset, but you always liked to check in with him before going out. it wasn’t about asking for permission, it was about the comfort of knowing you were both on the same page.

“hey,” you called softly, stepping into the living room.

jeno paused the game immediately, turning to you with that warm, easy smile of his. “hey baby, what’s up?”

you folded your arms, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “i was just wondering… the girls invited me out tonight, and i think i’m gonna go. is that okay with you?”

his smile didn’t falter, but his head tilted slightly in curiosity. “why wouldn’t it be okay? you don’t need to ask me for stuff like that.”

“i know,” you said quickly, walking over to sit beside him on the floor. “i just, i like to check in with you. make sure you don’t feel like i’m ditching you or anything.”

jeno let out a soft laugh, reaching over to take your hand in his. “you’re so thoughtful, you know that baby? but no, babe, i don’t feel ditched. i want you to have fun.”

“are you sure?” you asked, leaning into his shoulder. “because i can stay if you want me to. we could watch a movie or something instead.”

he shook his head, his hand squeezing yours gently. “no, really, i’m good. besides,” he added, glancing toward the TV, “this is a rematch night with the guys. you know how competitive they get.”

“ah, so you’re busy, too,” you teased, poking his side.

“exactly,” he said, grinning. “so go. have fun with your friends. you deserve a night out.”

you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you at his easygoing support. “you’re the best, you know that?”

“of course i know that,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “but you should still remind me more often.”

laughing, you got to your feet, tugging him up with you. “well, since you’re so perfect, can i ask for one more favor?”

“anything baby,” he said, his expression immediately softening.

“help me pick out what to wear?”

jeno raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “oh, you’re really giving me that kind of power, huh?”

“i trust you,” you replied, pulling him toward your room.

he followed you willingly, sitting on the edge of the bed as you started pulling options from your closet. as you held up each outfit,

jeno gave his honest opinion, sometimes teasing, sometimes serious, but always considerate.

when you finally settled on a look, he gave an approving nod. “that one. you look amazing, but not like you’re trying too hard. just… perfect.”

you blushed under his gaze, smoothing your hands over the fabric. “thanks, jeno. i’ll send you a picture before i leave, okay?”

“you better,” he said, pulling you close for another kiss. “and don’t forget to text me when you’re there, when you leave, and when you’re on your way back.”

“anything else, dad?” you teased, though the care in his voice made your heart melt.

he laughed, tapping your nose. “just stay safe, okay baby? i’ll be here when you get back.”

as you grabbed your bag and got ready to head out, you glanced back at jeno one last time. he waved you off with a grin, already settling back into his game.

HAECHAN⋆୨୧˚

the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room as you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping on a glass of iced tea. haechan sat at the table, lazily scrolling through his phone, occasionally humming some tune that was stuck in his head. he looked up at you with a smile when he noticed you were watching him.

“what?” he asked, his tone teasing. “you can’t take your eyes off me, huh?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “something like that,” you replied, setting your glass down.

he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “okay, what do you want? that’s your i’m about to ask for something face.”

laughing, you shook your head. “can’t i just look at my boyfriend without an ulterior motive?”

“not when you’re making that face baby,” he quipped, tapping his fingers on the table. “alright, spill it. what’s up?”

you hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of how he’d react. “so… the girls are going out tonight, and they want me to come. i thought i’d check in with you first, see how you feel about it.”

haechan blinked, leaning back in his chair as a slow grin spread across his face. “you thought you’d check in with me? what, do i look like the jealous type to you?”

“no,” you said quickly. “but, you know, i just want to make sure you’re cool with it. i don’t want to make you feel like i’m ditching you or anything.”

“ditching me?” he placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “baby, if anything, you’re giving me the perfect opportunity to miss you.”

you laughed, shaking your head at his dramatic response. “so, you’re okay with it?”

“of course i’m okay with it,” he said, standing up and walking over to you. he leaned against the counter beside you, his hand brushing yours. “but there’s a condition.”

“uh-oh,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “what’s the catch?”

“you have to wear that dress,” he said, his tone playful but his eyes warm. “you know, the one i love. and before you go, you have to come show me how stunning you look.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “oh, is that all?”

“for now,” he said with a wink.

“alright, deal,” you said, crossing your arms. “but i get to make a condition, too.”

“oh, this should be good,” he said, leaning closer. “hit me with it baby.”

“you have to promise to actually eat dinner while i’m gone,” you said, poking his chest. “no skipping meals just because i’m not here to make sure you’re fed.”

haechan pretended to gasp, his hand flying to his chest again. “what do you take me for? i’m a grown man! i can feed myself.”

“uh-huh,” you said, not convinced. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “alright, deal. i’ll send you a picture of my dinner to prove it, and you send me a picture of you looking like the queen you are before you leave. sound fair?”

“fair,” you agreed, resting your hands on his chest.

“and don’t forget to text me when you get there, okay?” he said, his tone softening. “i know i joke around a lot sunshine, but i worry about you when you’re out.”

“i will,” you promised, touched by his sincerity. “And i’ll text you when i’m heading home, too.”

“good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “now go get ready. you’re about to be the most beautiful girl at that place, and i need to brag to myself about how lucky i am.”

shaking your head at his antics, you pulled away to get dressed. as you left the room, you heard him call out, “don’t forget the dress! it’s non-negotiable!”

you laughed to yourself, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort in knowing that haechan would always have your back, no matter what.

dreamies masterlist here⋆୨୧˚

155 notes · View notes

monamipencil · 1 day ago

Text

🧍‍♀️i can't even describe my emotional state rn

i was so happy to read pt.2. i thought it'd be happy. v, you weren't lying when you said angst, no comfort. THIS HURTS. THIS IS SO ANGSTY BUT ALSO SO SOFT, AND I DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT TYPE OF EMOTION I FEEL ATP

but my god, your writing skills??? i love that so much. and i love LOVE your world building. this was so fun to read. i can't wait to read more from you!!

annotations;

avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.

oooh, this makes me curious

Upon the first splash of water hitting his face, he thought of you. It was inevitable. The image of you sitting on the ground, surrounded by trees. That night, he left you for good. That night nothing made sense.

🧍‍♀️it does make sense honey, you're just in denial.

“Jeonghan, don’t go.” He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.

ow ow ow, ok. that cut, deep.

How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?

since when have you used your brain? (yes im insulting him, how dare he?)

Jeonghan missed you.

THIS IS ANGSTY BUT ALSO SOFT AHHHHHH

The pull. The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.

your descriptions >>>> i actually felt the pull. v, i love your writing

The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.

IT MAKES SENSE, YOU IDIOT

A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.

lmfao. i love her 🫶

“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.

he's worried.

“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”

HE'S WORRIED. eating my fist rn, this is soo ughhhh, adorable and heart breaking at the same time. idek what emotion im feeling atp.

You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.

PONYTAIL JEONGHAN ?!?!

You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.

this is ... domestic and soft.

With a sigh, you walked inside the room. “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.

qsadfghjnmhngbfrdszghyjuhn, AHHHHHH-wait, you guys have fucked countless times.

Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”

HE'S WORRIED WHAT IF I THROW MYSELF OUT OF THE WINDOW

“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”

me when a man does the bare minimum, but my bar is in hell.

“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.

oh ... 🧍‍♀️she's down bad

Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.

IT MAKES SENSE HEXSBKNDFMGFHGVFCDSFGH YOU IDIOT

“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.

lmfao, this guy is slick

He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.

fuck, this is so domestic, and soft, and cute, and lovely, and sweet, and-i can't.

Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”

RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 🦅🦅🦅

“Did you think I would want you more if you were human?” he asked without heat in his words, his gaze reading your features over and over. “Did you think that would give you a shot at a normal thing happening between us?”

🧍‍♀️she's just down bad, ok? go easy on her.

By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.

asdfghjkl i love this. so angsty and so soft, and i dont even what the fuck im feeling

“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”

AHHHHHHWDSNHAOVFUBRHJL DFCVMDSCVBNHDNHTBGFVDC AH YOON JEONGHAN THE MAN YOU ARE

Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.

But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?

fucking hell, oh he fucking did.

“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear. “I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.” “I’ll be mad at you.” “I ache for you,”

“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?” “Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”

this is my live reaction. im actually dead, this is my soul typing

“I won’t do it again,” “That’s it… that’s my girl,”

WTF OMG IM JUST A GIRL, I CANT- I CAN'T

“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”

say it. SAY IT

“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly. It made perfect sense.

im killing myself if my soulmate goes through stages of grief instead of happiness when it is revealed.

Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.

well, what do you expect? this is the third time, SHE'S DOWN BAD

“I like you the way you are.”

oh my FUCKING GOD I LOVE THEM, YOUR HONOR.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled. Fool. He was a fool.

whyyyyy NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

FOR ONCE, JUST ONCE, WHY CNA'T THEY BE HAPPY

the traitor | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, smut (18+) › word count: 8.4k

› this one shot is part 2 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: smut with plot, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex (both receivers), pussy drunk jeonghan, cockdrunk reader, cum swallowing, creampies, cowgirl, mating press. pet names: baby, baby demon (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

› author's note: this is part two of my demon hunter hannie! hehe i loved writing it sm and thought to give you a follow-up part!

› additional note: this isn't proofread

the traitor

JEONGHAN WAS WOKEN UP BY A TINGLING FEELING. As a hunter, he needed to pay attention to a few things, like sudden surges of emotions. Hunches. Tingling sensations were not particularly something he would consider in the bunch. But alas.

He pushed himself up, swinging his legs at the rim of the bed and stared at his knees for a long second. He took a deep breath, rubbing his leg. It was pointless, he thought when he could not find a reason to leave his bed in the middle of the night.

But being a hunter also meant he needed to be on high alert nearly all the time. In his experience, sometimes it was a good idea to pay attention to those moments when nothing made sense at all, such as this.

Sucking in a breath, he got up, stretching his arms over his head as he went over to the small bathroom, avoiding his reflection in the mirror as usual.

Needless to say, he was exercising all of his will not to go back to you.

Stop trying to make sense of everything.

After that, he debated whether to go back to bed or not. He could take a bottle, try to numb his senses and finally get a good night of sleep. But he needed to stay sharp.

It was a lost game. He got dressed, throwing his pair of black pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Finally strapping his chest harness on with his knife. Going out in the middle of the night meant to him that he was out for blood.

That was his way to distract himself.

“Jeonghan, don’t go.”

He recoiled, shaking his head and mentally reprimanding himself for thinking of you. But your last words to him were a curse, echoing inside him every night, refusing to leave.

Jeonghan let out a long exhale as he wandered through the night. The streets of the town were completely deserted, he knew he would have to stay out for some hours before he found a target.

These nights, he had been hunting until he travelled three towns over. All because he cannot find it in himself to sleep, he has to fight the urge to seek you out somehow.

Maybe this will be the night he breaks.

There was nothing in this town. It was too safe, too clean. He knew it would not be long until he had to move to a different town and start over. He had been commissioned to travel to different parts of the globe to find something to hunt down, so maybe he was doing his job right.

So why did he come back to this shitty town?

Something spiked in his nightly walk. There was something unusual in the air and it was not good. Jeonghan had really good senses, but his intuition was something that discerned him from the rest. Sometimes, people would tell him that his intuition was something out of the ordinary for hunters. So he paid more attention to that rather than his other senses.

He subconsciously rubbed his leg and caught his hand just as it dawned on him.

“Jeonghan, don’t go.”

Fear set in, and adrenaline kicked in as he started for a run. He had been stupid. So fucking stupid. How come he did not think that by killing every single demon within the town’s radar he was putting a target on you for other hunters?

Jeonghan knew the town by heart, but he could travel to your apartment with his eyes closed. Countless were the nights he stumbled upon your front door, burdened with misery all over. This cannot be the way he finds you dead.

“No, no, no, no…” he had been repeating the word like a prayer as he climbed through a labyrinth of stairs, panting, sweating until he burst the door open, already knowing you would not be there.

He called your name, either way, his voice bouncing back the walls. There was something off. A glass was shattered, pushed against the corner of the room. One of the chairs was drawn back, in the middle of the way. Jeonghan painted a scene of what could have gone down.

You were probably having the bowl of cereal that was abandoned on the table when the other hunter burst in. Jeonghan could not catch the scent of the other hunter, so that meant whoever that was, they masked themselves well.

No, you would have felt his presence before he could even breathe in your direction. Even if you were young, you were not completely inexperienced in the world of hunters. He made sure of that.

Another possibility was that you were asleep when the other hunter came. The sheets of your bed were tossed to one side. Jeonghan crouched next to the mattress, a terrible feeling sinking inside him upon getting your scent lingering on the pillowcases.

Jeonghan missed you.

“Where are you?” he whispered, closing his eyes to focus on your scent.

You smelled like freshly picked flowers. The smell he would get in the early morning after a night of rain. The fact that you did not smell like death, or blood made it hard for him to focus sometimes.

He opened his eyes, his focus falling on the open window. Then, he knew why he could not make a story from his surroundings. He had been wrong to assume it was just one hunter.

Someone had also come through the window. You were trapped from the beginning. His chest contracted painfully. But somehow he knew you were not dead yet. Have you been taken? For what end?

The possibilities were endless. Even if hunters had a long history of hating demons, some of them were missing some screws in their heads too.

Jeonghan needed to find you, soon.

Making his way down the stairs, part of him wondered why try at all. He could be rid of you once and for all. He could probably turn a blind eye to this and wait for your name to appear on the ledges. He would be free from the fucking pull that lead him to you every time.

The pull.

The feeling he got every time he closed his eyes, the need and deep craving for you that made him go insane. He let himself feel it. It tugged inside him, like a thread that was tied to his very core.

Jeonghan had refused that feeling ever since he met you, thinking it was some kind of trick you played on him. Silly little hunter got all wrapped in a demon’s finger.

But if he dared to give in to the pull, everything smelled of you. Every gulp of air he took as he walked in the direction his senses told him, he saw your face, your teary eyes as he walked away. Fool, he was a fool.

He was led to the forest, the same path he had gone through when he saw you last. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he should go back and hunt you down.

But then he heard noises, leaves rustling, and a small intake of breath. The sweet way you drew air into your lungs.

He thought of risking calling your name, but he did not know if the hunters were around. So he just followed the sound of your movements until he could get his sight on you.

You could barely walk right. Something had brought you to your knees, your arms were shaking as you forced yourself to stand up, with a low grunt.

Jeonghan called your name this time, making you lift your head.

He stopped abruptly at the sight of something shiny in your fist.

“Don’t move,” you said, punctuating each word painfully.

“What happened?” he asked, his tone declining in sickening worry, his gaze coasted at each of your limbs, zeroing in on your thigh. The same thigh he had been rubbing since he woke up. It made no sense.

“Step back, Jeonghan,” you panted in pain, raising the knife at him when he made a motion toward you.

“You didn’t notice me coming,” he muttered, analyzing the situation quickly. He sent his gaze around, seeing if there were signs that there was someone lurking by. “Let me take a look at that.”

“How did you find me?” you asked, letting yourself plop back to the ground, letting go of the knife.

Jeonghan got to your side, dropping to his knees to look at your thigh. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, eyeing you. “I’m going to touch you now.”

You nodded and braced yourself for the searing pain in your leg. “Two hunters came for me,” you said, clenching your jaw tightly to resist the pain throbbing in your skin, around the gaping hole that was turning black.

“I know,” he said, examining the open wound. “Did they stab you?”

You shook your head twice. “They were using a crossbow. Silver arrows,” you explained despite the need to rest your head on the ground and sleep through it. “I feel dizzy.”

Jeonghan shot you a look. He was worried. “It’s the poison, they must’ve poisoned the arrows to neutralize you,” he said at once. “What did you do to the arrow?”

“I used it on one of them,” you replied with half a smirk that slowly vanished as Jeonghan started to press on the wound, seeing any signs of anything odd or unfamiliar.

“Sorry,” he breathed as you tensed in pain. “I need to see if there’s anything in there,” he explained, but what did not satiate the doubts running in his mind.

“I can’t heal it,” you repeated and now he could see that beneath the pain and the need to deflect it with humour, you were scared.

“I know, I know,” he told you, giving you a stern look. “I can help you but you’ll have to be quiet.”

“Are you missing this opportunity to gag me?” you quipped but your tone was made weak by the fear of feeling pain.

Demons were used to pain, yes. But you were a fairly young demon and lived for most of your life in the human world. Such pain was not welcome for you.

“Breathe,” he instructed and used his hands on your thigh to squeeze the blood that had gone black and tacky around the wound.

You gritted your teeth, writhing in pain on the cold ground. “Stop, stop, stop,” you cried out, trying to get his hands off you.

But Jeonghan was quicker, and stronger than you at that moment. He did not deter from his task to squeeze the poisoned blood out of you despite your desperate cries for him to stop.

You lied, nearly limp from the exhaustion the pain had put you through. A sheen layer of cold sweat covered your face and neck, breathing hard. “Fuck you,” you sighed when he stopped squeezing your flesh.

“I’m not done yet, I need pressure on the wound,” he said, moving back to unfasten his belt with his bloodied hands. He strapped the belt around your upper thigh, forming a tight tourniquet.

“Hurry,” you said through heavy breaths. As you eased your back on the ground, Jeonghan caught sight of the dark wings splayed beneath your body, a clear sign that you could not conceal yourself any further.

Jeonghan made no comment about the weakened state you were in. A knot was set in his stomach upon realizing that you were dying. He grabbed one of the vials he kept in his hunter’s belt, it contained a white liquid. “This is going to sting a little,” he murmured, unstoppering the vial with his mouth and not pausing before pouring the antidote on your open wound.

Your hand flew to clench at his wrist, letting out a scream that was quickly muffled by his hand clasped in your mouth.

“I’m nearly done,” he said with a composure that you could see through. Beneath that, Jeonghan was worried you would not make it.

“Am I going to be all right?” you asked in a daze, slurring out your words.

“Drink this,” he pressed the vial to your lips, pouring the rest down your tongue, which you gulped willfully, it tasted like white vinegar.

You rested your head on the ground, taking slow and deep breaths as though you had just finished running a marathon.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said after a quick examination of the wound. “But you’ll need to feed soon.”

“Right,” you mumbled in understanding. By feeding, Jeonghan did not mean human food. Although you could eat human food just all right, it did not sustain what your soul craved.

He meant sins. You needed to feed off human sin. They made you stronger, and faster. They gave you the fuel needed to fight hunters. Going off sins for a while made you just as strong as an average human.

“Why haven’t you fed?” he asked, and it took you a while to understand that he was reprimanding you.

“Been busy,” you sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

The last thing you heard was Jeonghan mumbling, “We’ll need to move soon,” before you fell into a deep sleep on a floor covered by dead leaves.

Upon regaining consciousness, you noticed with some slowness that you were not surrounded by trees, and you were moving. Your wings were cradling you, so that meant your horns were on sight too.

You tensed up, drawing in a shaky breath, palming your body in search of the knife that you stole from your attackers.

“Easy,” Jeonghan murmured next to you, a hand on the wheel, the other on the shift stick.

“Where are we?” you said, looking around.

“Radewood town,” he replied nonchalantly, eyes set forward on the road.

“Why?” you asked slowly, hiding your wings, from his view, then your horns.

“How’s your leg?” he asked instead, glancing at your thigh.

The wound had stopped bleeding, it was no longer oozing that black substance that had Jeonghan looking worried. You hissed painfully upon searching it with your fingers. The blood had dried, but it was not healing at the speed you would normally have.

“It hurts,” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip. “It’s not healing.”

Jeonghan nodded. “You need to feed,” he reminded you with the same tone of reprimand of earlier.

“Well, I fled without stopping to grab my purse so,” you sighed. “I don’t have money.”

“I’m not talking about human food,” he said with annoyance, shooting you a look that made you shrink in your seat. “Why haven’t you been feeding?”

You blinked slowly at him and shook your head after deciding that there was no answer that would please him. “I have–,”

“Don’t say you have been busy,” he cut in.

“Well, it’s the truth,” you said with a clear tone that gave away your lie.

But Jeonghan could feel it. Whenever you told a lie, there was a change in the air that only he could notice as a hunter. No human could ever detect your lies, only people like him.

“You know I know when you’re lying,” he said flatly, throwing you a dark look.

“Be content with that,” you bit back. “I’m not telling you anything else.”

Jeonghan shook his head, deciding not to press any further on the matter. He licked his lips, filling his lungs with the fresh midnight air that swept in through his rolled window.

“Jeonghan,” you called softly and did not proceed with your question until he glanced your way. “Why are you helping me?”

Jeonghan turned on a different street again, checking his rearview mirror, pretending to ready his answer. “I don’t know,” he replied.

There it was the empty void extending between you and him. If he lied, you would have sensed it too.

“How did you find me?” you pressed, trying to the best of your ability to analyze him. You were still weak, but you could still observe him despite your foggy brain.

“I don’t know,” he repeated with a low tone that barely cut through the noise of the engine of the car.

It made no sense. The way he found you in the woods was not done with any of his training. He simply closed his eyes and let him be taken to you. He did not even think twice as he carried your body to his car and started it, taking you far away from the town where you would be at risk of being hunted down.

“We have to lay low for now,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes as he cut the engine on an empty parking lot.

You raised your gaze to the motel sign, flaring in red neon light. “Is this your version of laying low?” you said with a sarcastic huff. “We could’ve done that back in the forest.”

Jeonghan opened the door, not bothering to look at you or give you a reply. “Stay here.”

You saw him walking away from the car, putting his hands in the pockets of his black leather jacket, his long hair tied in a messy ponytail.

You could run away. You did not know if Jeonghan was even aware of this. Maybe he was, you had a bad leg, and you were growing weaker.

Plus, there was the fact that he was now aware that he could trace you with his eyes closed.

You swallowed hard, waiting for him in the passenger seat of his old Mustang. You were going nowhere.

Some minutes later, you saw Jeonghan exiting the building and walking towards your door, which he opened to retrieve his belongings, which were his belt and his knife.

“This way,” he mumbled, motioning to one of the doors with a jerk of his head.

Reluctantly, you exited the car, closing the door behind you. Jeonghan turned and walked over to the door, introducing the key, and opening it for you.

You knew better than to fight it. There was a quiet storm brewing in the man’s head, and you were in its eye. You knew him well enough to tell when something was bothering him. And you knew what it was.

With a sigh, you walked inside the room. “One bed?” you turned to him with an exasperated look.

“I didn’t think you would mind,” he froze by the doorframe.

“Whatever,” you waved a hand dismissively before he could offer to change it.

As soon as Jeonghan closed the doors and the blinds, you started to the bathroom, taking all of your clothes off in front of him. You made no invitation, no offer but you still left the door open, the sound of the shower filling the tiny room.

Jeonghan made another small inspection, looking out of the window through the blinds before deciding to relax. He took his jacket off, leaving it neatly by the chair that was pushed to one corner of the room. He took his boots off, sitting down on the chair with a low grunt of exhaustion.

As he sat up straight, he caught sight of his hand, only noticing because he had started moving it, rubbing his palm on the exact spot where you had been injured.

“What the fuck?” he whispered to himself, raising his gaze as you returned to the bathroom, wholly naked, pressing a towel to your hair.

“You okay, hunter?” you eyed him curiously, like a cat that just noticed a flashy light.

Jeonghan frowned, not at you but at the thing stirring inside his chest. That feeling he got only when he was with you. “When is the last time you fed?”

“Here we go again,” you rolled your eyes but continued towel-drying your hair without bothering to respond.

“Answer me,” he muttered when you turned your back on him. Your reluctance to answer his question might have given him the answer.

“The last time we saw each other,” you said, your words echoing his own thoughts.

“Why?” the word was sharp like it took everything in him to suppress the dark emotion pulling on his every nerve. “That happened months ago.”

“Why do you care so much?” you spat, turning around to face him.

The question seemed to make him return to his senses, his eyes flickered with an emotion that you were to weak to catch. “I don’t,” he replied, stepping back from his initial anger.

“I’ll feed whenever I want to,” you said and this time you did not lie.

Jeonghan stood up, commanding your gaze to lift up to find his. “So you’re not hungry?”

You bit your tongue. Your eyes were dead, and despite the hot shower you had just taken, you were cold to the touch as Jeonghan curiously raised a hand to your shoulder. It was pointless, your plan had crashed and burned miserably.

“I’ve heard stories…” you whispered, closing your eyes to repel the sensation firing inside you. “Stories of ways a demon can become human. You can’t become human if you’re feeding off them, right?”

When Jeonghan did not reply, nor move you opened your eyes again. He was still rigid in the same trance he had been upon finding you injured and bleeding in the forest.

“You’ll die,” he sentenced after some seconds. “Are you insane?”

You brushed his hand off. “I knew you’d say that,” you whispered with a pained look, turning around to sit down on the bed.

“Why do you want to become human?” the words sounded ridiculous as he uttered them.

“Not your business, Jeonghan,” you replied impishly, throwing the towel to him, which he saw coming, catching it with ease.

“It is if you’re running away with me,” he said. Your temptation to feed could become dangerous. And he was toeing that line too deliberately.

“I didn’t choose to run away with you,” you bit back with an indignant huff.

“That’s the thanks I get?” he rolled his eyes in annoyance. “What was I supposed to do, then? Leave you to die? To be found by them?”

He did not need to explain who he referred to. The two hunters must have noticed that Jeonghan ran away with his things, his car, leaving an empty place behind. And you are nowhere to be found. He was a traitor.

“Maybe,” you whispered, lowering your gaze to your lap. You skirted the pads of your fingers around the wound that still refused to heal completely.

Jeonghan stood before you, using a hand on your chin to force your teary eyes on him. A finger scooped your tear as it rolled down your cheek. The tear glistened on the pad of his thumb as he showed it to you, a shocked expression plastered on his face.

Demons felt emotions, yes. But nothing like sorrow. Jeonghan had never seen a demon cry, let alone one that wanted to become human. It made no sense.

“It’s possible, Jeonghan,” you whispered shakily, letting your tears flow freely.

“Humans are weak. They get sick, they die. Besides, the guilt of everything you’ve done as a demon will crush you,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin. “Why would you want something like that?”

“I’m done talking,” you said childishly, turning over to draw the covers of the bed and tucked yourself in. “Goodnight.”

He blinked perplexedly at you. The best option was to wait for another opportunity to bring up the matter, but for now, he needed to rest. He disposed of his chest harness, and his knives, leaving them on the old and battered bedside table, where he could reach out if needed.

A smile threatened to break on his face when you turned slightly at the sound of him taking his pants off, then his long-sleeved t-shirt, discarding his clothes at the foot of the bed.

He paused, tugging the band of his black boxers with his fingers. He took them off, making things fair.

“Is that necessary?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him as he sank under the covers with you.

“Just playing your game,” he said, tugging the hair tie loose before lying his head on the pillow next to yours.

“I’m not playing any games,” you huffed with annoyance, turning over so your back was to him once again.

There it was the ripple in the air between you and him. Jeonghan did not need to comment on it, but you hated it.

Hunter abilities or not, Jeonghan would be able to read through your lies blindfolded. He was just that good at reading people, reading you.

Jeonghan stared at the ceiling, his heartbeat going a mile per hour, like a bird’s wings batting frantically inside his chest. He swallowed hard, resisting the urge pushing him to raise his hand at you, to reach out and touch your skin.

You closed your eyes, commanding yourself to sleep. But it was nearly impossible. Jeonghan’s scent was too distracting. The hunger caved a hole deep inside you. It was no ordinary hunger, it was one that had your soul twisting.

You balled your hands into fists, sinking your face into the pillow. His lust was nearly palpable, looming over you like a monster preying on you.

However, you were too weak to actually act upon it. Soon, you fell asleep, not noticing when or how.

Jeonghan however, was too riddled with questions to do the same. He turned his head on the pillow, seeing your wet hair, your naked shoulder. His thigh throbbed in something that reminded him of pain, though his flesh was fine and did not hurt.

Why would you want to become human? What could be a good enough reason to want to abandon your life full of pleasures? It made no sense. Jeonghan had never heard of a demon becoming human, but he saw you crying, so that must mean that it could be done.

Still, it meant that there was a price to be paid. There always was.

Wandering through endless questions, Jeonghan fell asleep. Now and then he was reminded of your presence in the bed, feeling your warmth or hearing you move beneath the sheets.

Even if he were not a light sleeper, the distraction of your warmth was enough to stir him awake. He found himself entirely pressed to your body, his front to the back of yours. His nose buried in your mane of hair, an arm draped over your waist.

And he was hard. Fuck, he was so hard it was starting to become annoying. It would be so easy to slip himself inside your pussy, waking you up in the process. He had done it countless times before.

He let out a silent sigh through his nose, only getting the scent of your hair when he breathed in. Your hand found his arm parked on the curve of your waist, you were awake. Jeonghan pressed himself another inexistent inch further, his hard cock wedged on your ass.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled sleepily, turning over to see him. You threw him an innocent look, big eyes, pouting lips. “What are you doing?”

He responded by giving you a confused look. In other times, you would not even ask questions, you would just let him take you, take whatever he wanted, for however long.

Jeonghan brought a hand to your chin, his touch igniting your skin, making you blink dumbly. “How long are you going to keep resisting it?” the words flew out of his mouth before he could even comprehend his own question.

But he knew what you were doing. He was an expert in pushing his feelings down, particularly, he knew what it felt like to resist this pull.

“However long is necessary, Jeonghan,” you replied, but your tone wavered in the urge to press yourself against his hand, to feel him.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes skirting through your reaction. He knew you wanted this, why were you refusing him?

“If I keep this for long I might get what I want,” you whispered, avoiding his eyes in utter shame.

“Why do you want to become human so desperately?” he asked again, looking at you with an obfuscation that was hard to mask.

You shrugged, keeping your sunken gaze on his chiselled chest. “That doesn’t concern you.”

Jeonghan pressed his fingers on your chin gently, tugging you so you locked your pretty eyes with his. “Does it not, really?”

Your brow furrowed, your gaze darkening. Feeling like you were being mocked, your eyes watered again. “Fuck off, Jeonghan,” you scoffed weakly, trying to free yourself from his grip.

He did not want to see it, but your reaction told him everything he needed to know. It took him some seconds to shake the perplexion off. It made no sense. “Did you think that being human would change things?”

You made no verbal reply, scoffing as you brushed his hand off you one more time.

But you knew him well enough to expect that would not work on him. He needed an answer now, and he would stop at nothing to get it now that he knew it fully concerned him.

“No, Jeonghan,” you rolled your eyes, but he could see how much his questions had pierced through you. “Quite the opposite.”

He made a motion to pull his head back on the pillow as if that gave him a better frame of your face. “What?”

“I want this to stop,” you whispered, rolling over the bed to sit up with a sigh.

Jeonghan looked at your back, you let your head drop forward, sniffling softly but you were fully crying now.

“Maybe being human will make this stop,” you whispered, motioning a hand between his body and yours. By this, you meant, the out-of-the-ordinary need for him, the desperate craving that refused to let you live. Maybe then, the bond between you would not be so unbearable.

Jeonghan sat up too, trying to read any signs of your words being insincere. But he found nothing, the quiet tension falling in the room startled him, and it made him uncomfortable. Even more, the battering inside his chest was making it difficult to even breathe.

“That makes no sense,” he mumbled with a hollow tone.

“It makes perfect sense,” you bit back, throwing him a sad look.

You were weak, nearing a state that you did not comprehend. Becoming human meant that you also had to deal with human emotions, and they were flowing freely through you, giving you a taste of what you were about to face as a human.

However, making yourself human condemned you to a myriad of threats. Not just mortality. You would become a demon that betrayed its own kind. A traitor, too.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, trying to hold your gaze to read you better.

“I want to be rid of you by whatever means necessary,” you hissed, coating your words with venom.

“Liar.”

There was a shadow of a smile on his face, and before you resorted to a crazed fit of violence, you decided to crush your mouth with his, kissing him with enough vehemence it would hurt him if he were human.

But he was tough enough to take you. He released a grunt in your mouth that was from half arousal, half annoyance at you.

“You’re a baby,” he grunted between hard kisses. “A bratty, fussy, melodramatic demon.”

“Shut up, Jeonghan,” you hissed. “Shut up or I swear–,”

“What?” he bit back, holding your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks. “What will you do, eh?”

“Don’t try me right now,” you said, kissing him repeatedly you were running out of breath.

“That’s exactly what I want to do,” he chuckled. “Did you think that making yourself human would make me stop wanting you?”

“Yes,” you hissed, pushing him back onto the bed with all the strength you had.

Jeonghan was stronger than you at that moment, but he allowed you to handle him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Nothing in existence would make him stop wanting you, damned to hell or not.

Though it made him curious to know. “Do you want to stop wanting me, then?” he leaned his head to his shoulder.

“It would be nice to stop craving you all the time,” you said, sinking your face in the crook of his neck to kiss him.

“Liar,” he grunted, holding your hips as you made a trail of kisses down his beautifully scarred chest. “Even worse, you’re a masochistic one at that.”

The guilty giggle escaping through your lips gave him all the reassurance he needed. You were now soaking up his need for you.

“Gods,” he breathed when your lips reached his hipbone. Your touch would never satiate the craving need inside him, but this night he would at least attempt to.

His fingers tangled in your hair, keeping his grip light but it would become difficult as you gave him a long lick from his ball sack to the tip of his cock. “Fuck,” he gritted, tensing as you wrapped your mouth around the bulbous head of his cock. “Yes, baby, just like that.”

The room fell silent again, but now all that surrounded you and him was lust and bliss. It had your blood revelling, sizzling beneath your skin to take him into your mouth. His fingers thread in your hair, caressing you as you bobbed your head up and down on him, sucking him off eagerly. You were tasting him, not only his skin, his arousal, but his lust. It drove you crazy.

“Gods, I fucking missed you,” he drawled, closing his eyes briefly before he lost all control. He wanted to push his hips, to drive his cock into your throat. But he also wanted to take this patiently.

You explored him with your mouth, just like your hands were exploring his body. Not that his nakedness was new to you, but you had just gone months without touching him. And not for a single second did you forget the taste of him, you also missed him.

But did he miss you the same way you did? Did he crave to hear your voice like you did his?

Your transition from demon to human was painful, and you were throwing it all away in one night. And Jeonghan was willingly letting you feed off his lust, you were relishing the taste of his greed, sucking off the last bit of the self-restraint he had in him.

His fingers curled around your hair, clenching his jaw as he moaned in pure pleasure. He let out a gasp when your tongue swirled around his cockhead. “Keep doing that, baby,” he said languidly, following the movements of your head on him.

A strangled moan bubbled in your mouth, and you followed his command, rolling your tongue around his blunt head.

Jeonghan smirked knowingly. You weakened whenever he treated you with softness, so words like baby drove you crazy. He threw a look down at his body, capturing your eyes, darkened with a lascivious greed that only fueled his. “Touch yourself,” he said with a gruff tone. “I want you to come with me.”

You sneaked a hand between your thighs, moaning salaciously when your fingers stroked your clit.

Jeonghan sighed, blinking slowly at the sight of you, thinking of your drenched pussy, your fingers coated in your arousal as you rubbed fast swirls around your clit. “That’s it, baby, just like that,” he praised, brushing your hair back with his long fingers. “You’re such a good girl for me, you don’t even know it.”

You moaned around his cock again, succumbing to a fast orgasm, your body trembled slightly.

“Coming,” he whispered, his mouth falling open as ropes of cum spurted down your throat, moaning at the sight of you drinking him off completely, licking to the last bead of his cum. You littered the reddened cockhead with sweet pecks trailing down to his shaft, eliciting a raw chuckle from him.

“That was amazing,” he whispered, enjoying the twinkle in your dark eyes upon being praised by him.

Jeonghan sat up, hooking one arm around your waist to throw you back onto the mattress. “Your turn,” he said with a wolfish grin.

You had recuperated the color in your cheeks, but you were still weak enough to fight his strength. You grunted as your head hit the pillows, but returned the smile at him. “You’ll see when I get my strength back.”

“Ooh, scary,” he said, grazing his lips on yours.

“You’ll see,” you remarked.

“Scary baby demon, what are you going to do?” he teased again, kissing the apple of your cheek, his breath caressing your ear.

“I’ll make you suffer,” you mumbled faintly, closing your eyes as his lips reached the underside of your jaw, making you tilt your head back for him.

“I want to see that,” he said mockingly. “Make me suffer.”

You sighed a moan when he kissed your throat, giving you a broad stroke with his tongue, tracing your collarbones. “Jeonghan…”

“Don’t throw another tantrum like that again,” he murmured against your skin, leaving another kiss on the plain of your breasts, before adding, “I’ll be mad at you.”

A spark of wrath got mixed along with greed and lust, it was not new to you, but it was rare.

“It wasn’t a tantrum,” you argued, though your tone was made weak by his lips, his tongue licking one of your nipples, making you arch your back.

He paused, “I don’t care,” he decided at once. “You’re not doing it again.”

“You don’t get to decide what I do, Jeonghan,” you mumbled breathily, moaning as his mouth wrapped around your nipple, suckling at it softly once, then swirling the tip of his tongue around it.

Jeonghan did not respond verbally to your obvious lie. He did not have a say in your choices, but there was a force greater than him or you that tied you to him. So every choice you made, every choice he made, was bound to affect you both.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, moving your thighs gently to slot his waist between them. His fingers traced a circle around the scar that was beginning to form.

“Better,” you sighed.

“Mmn,” he smirked at you, leaning over to kiss your lips. “Will it heal completely by the time I’m done eating you out?”

“Why, are you in a rush?” you quipped, arching an eyebrow at him.

There you were, he smirked. “I ache for you,” he whispered, letting his forehead fall upon yours. The shame coursing through him made you recoil but sensing it, he added quickly: “You have not only starved yourself but starved me with your stupid little plan.”

“You avoided me too,” you accused.

“I know, I was a fool,” he confessed, running his palms all over your body as if he could not do anything else. He sank down, leaving wet kisses down your tummy, his hands palming your breasts, his fingers lingering on your sensitive nipples.

You bit your lip, only in your most crazed fantasies did you dare to imagine him saying this. “You were,” you whispered. “The biggest fool.”

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, kissing your mound generously, his hands grabbing your thighs with the lightest of touches before licking your pussy with a broad stroke.

“Jeonghan!” you cried out, brushing his dark hair gently as he ate you out like a starved man, licking your folds thoroughly, his tongue sliding up to your clit to then suckle at it.

You arched your back, not caring about the light pain throbbing on your thigh. Jeonghan was giving you everything you needed, giving your pussy open-mouthed kisses, drinking your arousal in with pleased moans.

“Fuck-k,” you gritted weakly, letting yourself be swept away by the gentle waves of your orgasm building inside you. “I m-missed you too, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.

He raised his gaze to yours, blinking slowly at you, pressing his tongue on your swollen clit, moving it swiftly in figure-eight motions, driving you to the edge. You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, the other flying to grab at the railings of the headboard.

“I’m close,” you gasped, breathing rapidly, welcoming the pleasure barreling through your body. “I’m close, I’m–, Jeonghan…” you closed your eyes, repeating his name over and over as you climaxed in his mouth.

But Jeonghan was not stopping. He continued making out with your pussy, enjoying the taste of your arousal pooling in your entrance, licking your folds with raunchy moans. His hands held you down as you shook with the aftershocks of your orgasm, caressing your tummy languidly.

“Jeonghan,” you called, shuddering when his hand caressed your thigh as he littered it with kisses.

“See? Healed,” he placed another kiss, right where your scar used to be.

You used your newly regained strength to push him, flipping the positions over so you were now straddling him. You let out a pleased sigh, effortlessly pinning his body down on the mattress.

“I take that you’re all set now,” he smirked, his hands roving all over your thighs.

Gods, you were a sight to behold. Your wings were at full display, resting freely at your sides. Your dark horns, curving back from the crown of your head, were on sight too. That meant you were comfortable around Jeonghan. You trusted him.

“Not yet,” you said, grabbing his hardened cock in one hand, planting the other on his abdomen for support as you eased your pussy down his length.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, his hands flying to grab your hips as you started rolling them on him.

“What’s wrong, hunter?” you teased, leaning down so your face was close enough to prop kisses on his lips. “Lost your footing?”

“You got me for a second there,” he admitted with a smirk. “Didn’t think you’d recuperate your strength that quickly.”

“Mm, keep that in mind next time you kiss it better,” you said, trapping his bottom lip with your teeth, nibbling it softly.

Jeonghan moaned, your hips picking up the pace mercilessly, knowing the exact pace and motion that drove him insane. He closed his eyes, sighing out the euphoric feeling of being with you, like this, consuming each other.

“It won’t happen again. You’re not doing this to yourself again,” he said with a faint tone.

“You don’t make choices for me,” you retaliated, sinking yourself down on him with pleased sighs, planting your hands on his chiselled chest.

In a blur, Jeonghan grabbed your wrists with one hand flipping your bodies over, pinning your body with his hips on yours, his hand holding your arms above your head. Jeonghan moved his hips slightly, finding your entrance with his hard cock quite effortlessly.

Jeonghan gave a few shallow thrusts, stretching your walls, making your mouth part, giving way to a long moan. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you groaned lewdly.

“Say it,” he hissed, rolling his hips on yours slowly, but pushing his cock inside you deeper each time he thrusted in. “You won’t do it again.”

“Fuck you,” you gritted, falling deeper into the puddle of pleasure he was slowly submitting you into.

“Say. It,” he commanded, his thrusts gaining strength, becoming harder at each motion of his hips on yours.

You wrestled his grip on your wrists, without using your full strength. “No,” you said with a hollow tone, the pace of his thrusts knocking the wind out of you.

“You fucking brat,” he spat, pressing his face on yours, giving you a hard kiss in the process. “Delusional little demon. Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”

“Stop,” you gasped, shame heating your cheeks.

Jeonghan released his grip on your wrists, not letting you regain control by grabbing your thighs, throwing them on his shoulders before resuming with his near animalistic thrusts, groaning on your mouth as such, like an animal.

“Jeonghan!” you cried out, his cock reaching inside you deeper… and deeper.

“Did you really think… I’d stop wanting you?” he panted in between his hard thrusts, the strain in his voice telling you how close he was to his release. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”

“Jeonghan…” you moaned.

“Say it.”

“I won’t do it again,” you said, trembling on the bed, reaching out to hold him right before you came undone beneath him.

“That’s it… that’s my girl,” he gasped, his bottom lip parting, releasing a raw grunt. Jeonghan moaned your name as he came, fucking his cum inside you with sloppy thrusts until he stopped, breathing hard on top of you.

Jeonghan eased your legs from his shoulders, deciding to rest his head on your chest. The sound of your heartbeat resonated through his head as he took a long breath. Your fingers caressed his nape lazily, shuddering under him when Jeonghan ran a fingertip on one of your wings.

This made no sense. To Jeonghan, everything had been black and white. His world was rigid, surrounded by unbreakable rules that made him into the person he was until he met you. Now, he was but the shadow of the man he was. He used to hate himself for wanting you. You were the thing he was raised to hate, to kill.

He did everything to keep you away. He bedded other women, he drank himself to sleep to not dream of you, he flew himself to different parts of the world.

And there he was, blissfully nestled in your warmth, in your embrace.

“Would you hate it if I became human?”

“No,” he replied after some seconds. “But I don’t want you to do it because you think that’s going to change something between us. Some things aren’t meant to change.”

“How can you be so sure?” you asked with a tiny tone.

Jeonghan raised his head, curiously looking at you. Even back with full strength, you still clung to some human vulnerability. “I’m not sure,” he confessed. “I don’t understand many things. But I know that changing yourself won’t bring you happiness, only misery.”

“I’m just tired of this,” you said, and it did not matter that you could not cry anymore, he knew that the statement hurt to say.

Jeonghan got to his knees, pulling out of you gently to slump his body next to yours. He took one long look at you, reminiscing of what he felt when he knew you were slipping away. It was fear, that was undeniable, he was too familiar with that feeling. But never like this.

“I don’t know what to say,” he said with a light frown.

“How did you find me, Jeonghan? How did you know I was in trouble?” you dared to ask again, now your words taking another meaning.

Jeonghan paused. “I just did,” he said but rolled his eyes when you saw through his lie. “I felt something.”

“Jeonghan,” you started, your tone reducing itself to a whisper. “There is a reason why we can’t get rid of each other.”

He went rigid, his eyes coasting all over the features of your face.

“Have you ever tried to… kill me?” you asked, hating how your words came off while lying naked next to him.

“You’d know it if I had,” he said, taken aback by your questions. “Why are you asking me this?”

“There is a reason why you can’t kill me,” you said, despite how crazy you were sounding. “I know you’ve felt it…”

Jeonghan sat up on the bed, gripping the bedsheets to steady himself. He felt lightheaded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Liar,” you whispered, sitting up next to him.

He ran his hands on his face harshly. “Stop that. This isn’t a game.”

“The last time we saw each other, you felt something,” you pressed, searching his eyes as he faced you.

“It makes no sense,” he whispered dejectedly.

It made perfect sense. The grip that you had on him was unlike anything else he had faced. Time after time he tried to run away, to put distance between you and him. He always found his way back to you somehow, either by greed, by lust or purely by fate. He never knew why, he was bound to you.

“Look at me,” you said, and his gaze found you. “There’s no point in fighting this. I know you’ve tried it before, I tried too.”

“It’s–,”

“Impossible?” you scoffed with a mocking smile.

It was a sick joke. A demon and her hunter. The lamb and the wolf, chasing each other endlessly.

“Is this why you thought becoming human was an option?”

You paused but nodded slowly after some seconds of pondering.

Jeonghan sighed, touching your forehead with his. “That’s a high price to pay,” he whispered.

He knew your next words before you uttered them, “I’m willing to pay it, Jeonghan.”

“I don’t want you to,” he gritted out his words, even if he did not understand, he could not stop fighting it any longer. “I like you the way you are.”

Demon or not, you felt something in your chest, tugging at you. “That’s not the problem,” you shifted back, looking at his confused face.

“I can’t have any ties to anyone,” he said. “Someday I’ll end up dead fighting something stronger and quicker than me.”

“After today’s events, I think it’s clear that I am chased by the same danger.”

“I’ll grow old, and slow,” he added.

“I would too, if I were human. No one would hunt me down,” you countered, not convinced by the obfuscated look on his face. “I wouldn’t have to feed from you.”

“You could die in the process,” he said, and that was the final reason he needed.

“Jeonghan–,”

“No,” he shook his head.

At that, you stopped fighting. You got out of bed, slowly picking up your torn clothes and putting them on without looking back at him.

His heart faltered, looking at you as you sat down on the edge of the bed, next to him. “Don’t go,” he mumbled.

“Give me a reason to stay.”

Jeonghan swallowed his words, taking a last look at your eyes. Something tugged at his heart, urging him to stop you. But you were slipping through the door before he could spring to action.

Fool. He was a fool.

› author's note: heyyyooooooo

once again i have nothing to say. i just need jeonghan on his knees, begging for forgiveness and mercy

anyway, stay tuned for my next hannieween fest piece!! next post will be loser hannie!! hehe

toodles!

support me on ko-fi?

#lola's recs <3 #you're so evil for this v #🧍‍♀️#i cant #believe #this #at #all #how dare you #but im not even mad #i love this story so much

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lunaroracleofvenus · 1 day ago

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🔥your future lover's tantalizing shadow side 🔥 PAC

Someone’s shadow side is the parts of them that are undesirable, uncomfortable, or socially unacceptable. Our shadow sides can also be pulled on for strengths once we transmute it into something empowering. for example, feeling insecure about your body type, then using that insecurity to become completely self accepting and spreading that positivity to others. Today, We will divine about what their shadow side is, and how it will empower the relationship and you. My intentions is to invite unconditional love for the human condition in today's reading.

Pile one

Lover’s Shadow Side: The shadow side I am detecting is that they have hedonistic and escapist tendencies. This person might love to vacation, especially with you. They might live a life that feels fast for them. They also might have a hard time being present, and truly grounded in their experiences. Constantly wishing, desiring, and never feeling really content?

The relationship you guys are in aids them in integrating this shadow side by sparking an undeniable feeling, spark, electricity that your lover has no choice but to be fully present in the feeling of it. This feeling they get satisfies this hedonistic pleasure they have but also creates contentment and a knowing/security they may not have had before. It is clear you are the one they want because you fulfill their darker desire while also alluring them into a higher octave of being. This relationship reminds me of the hedonistic nature of the 80s and the deep romance of the 50s.

La Isla Bonita - Madonna, You’re The one I want - From Grease

Pile Two Lover’s Shadow Side: The shadow side I am detecting is not realizing a good thing until they have released it from their reality. They might need some time to truly be in gratitude of the great things they possess. This person may have a tendency to break up then makeup. Running, and wishing for what they once had. I think the may reason they do is because of a blocked third eye. The third eye is responsible for seeing beyond what the eye might see. So because of this blocked space, it may be hard for them to pick up on what they should. Only really understanding what’s tangible, practical. They might have heavy earth signs in their chart.

The relationship you guys have aids them in truly seeing the depth of love and the value of relationships and partnerships. It awakens their third eye and crown chakra, making them realize how divine and favorable this relationship is to their growth and reality. They have operated in a sterile, earthy reality devoid of depth, but now they are welcomed into a sensual reality filled with depth and a connection to something greater and divine. This energy reminds me of a mythical forest, with lush grass and small pink faeries. 11:11

Only in my dreams - Debbie Gibson, how deep is your love – Bee Gees

Pile three Lover’s Shadow Side: Your lover’s shadow side is that they can forget themselves in relationships and people. They might be the type to feel really unfilled without a romantic relationship. I am sensing neptune and jupiter in this person’s chart. This person’s shadow entails them to want to be their person’s everything, which can quickly become co-dependent. They might be very connected to their crown chakra. Your lover’s shadow side is also deeply feminine.

Their shadow side empowers your relationship because there is always a deep longing for you and what you guys have.This person will always appreciate it and will always be thinking about you. This relationship might unintentionally teach them a lesson of space and boundaries, aiding them to be more independent in a healthy way, but ultimately you are always in their heart and mind. They feel their feelings deeply, and experience this love like it’s their first <3 This pile has the energy of a sweet 90s ballad, in which they are serenading their lover.

I Will be your everything - Tommy Page, I miss you - Klymaxx

#tarot #fs tarot #love tarot #divine love #divination #oracle #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #shadow self #shadow side #tarot reading #music divination #future spouse tarot #future love tarot

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jinxedbychaos · 2 days ago

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vi x reader, where in childhood they were somewhat involved with each other . Like you can tell the love is there but they have yet to realize it themselves. And when they went to save vander, reader got hit in the head and loses their memory. And Vi is put in prison.

then Vi gets out, and they find each other. And Vi hugs reader and goes on a good “i missed you, there wasn’t a day i haven’t though about you” spiel, and reader just doesn’t know how to feel about it. Because in their mind this is just some stranger. But at the same time they feel like they know and care deeply about this stranger.

Forgotten

Vi x reader

Word count: 1,275

Warnings: some mentioned deaths (that's all I think.)

This is the first ever request I've ever done so I hope I meet the expectations of the person who send this request.

You and Vi grew up together in the the lanes. life wasn't easy, but you had each other, and that made it bearable. she'd always mess with you, messing with your hair, ruffling it playfully whenever she got the chance. You'd pretend to be annoyed, swatting her hand away with a huff, but secretly, you liked it. It made you feel warm inside.

After her fights, you'd sit her down and patch up her scraped knuckles, muttering about how reckless she was, She'd grin at you, acting like it didn't hurt, but you always knew better. You could see through her tough exterior, and she could see right through yours. Neither of you ever said what you felt, but it was there, in lingering glances, unspoken gestures, and the way your hearts seemed to beat in sync.

Then everything changed.

It happened when Silco made his move. Watching Benzo-your father figure, the man who had taken you in when you had no one else, fall dead right in front of you helpless to stop it, shattered you. The thought of Vander meeting the same fate was unbearable. And the idea of Vi having to endure the pain of losing him, too, was more than you can handle. You couldn't let that happen.

So when vi decided to go after him, you went too. You stayed by her side as the others followed, determined to save Vander.

You were right beside her when the explosion went off. The force of it knocked you off your feet, and pain seared through your entire body like fire. The last thing you saw before the world went dark was her pink hair splayed on the ground unmoving.

When you woke up, everything was gone. Vander. Claggor. Mylo. Vi. Even your memories.

All that remained were fragments, hazy feelings of warmth and safety tied to a face you couldn't quite place.

Years later-

Life without your memories felt hollow. The Lanes still felt familiar in a way you couldn't explain, like a melody you couldn't recall but keep humming anyway. you did whatever you had to do to survive, jobs you weren't proud of, choices you tried not to think about. You pieced together a new life, but no matter how hard you tried, it always felt incomplete.

And then she appeared.

You were carrying a crate of scavenged parts through the bustling streets, just trying to make it another day, when someone stepped in front of you, blocking your path.

"Hey" You began, irritation flaring. But when your gaze meet hers, the words died in your throat, she looked familiar.

The girl, no, woman stood frozen, her pink hair catching the dim light. Her wide eyes, a mix of disbelief and something far deeper, softened as they locked onto you.

"Y/N…" She breathed, her voice cracking.

The name sounded foreign to you, yet it struck something deep inside, a string you hadn't realized was there. Before you could react, she rushed towards you and wrapped her arms around you. The crate in your hands fell to the ground with a loud clatter, its contents scattering everywhere.

Her hold was tight, desperate, as if she were afraid you might disappear. "Gods" She whispered, her voice trembling "I missed you so much. There wasn't a day I didn't think about you. I-I thought you were dead after the explosion."

Her words pierced the fog in your mind, stirring emotions you couldn't explain. Images flickered in your head. flashes of pink hair, laughter, a hand reaching for yours in the dark. You didn't know her, not really. And yet…

The way her voice trembled, the way she held you like you were her lifeline. It felt familiar. Like home.

"I…" your voice wavered as you pulled back, stepping out of her embrace. The confusion and overwhelming emotions made it hard to think. "Y-you know me?" You swallowed hard, shaking your head, "I don't… I don't remember. I don't remember you"

Her expression faltered, the pain flickering across her face like a fleeting shadow. She took a shaky breath, forcing a small, fragile smile. "That's alright" she murmured, her voice trembling but steady enough to hide the heartbreak beneath it "We'll figure it out together. I'm not letting you go this time."

The days that followed were a whirlwind of emotions. Vi tried to reconnect with you, sharing stories of your childhood together, each one laced with hope that might ignite a spark of recognition. sometimes, fragments of those memories felt familiar, like shadows of something long lost. But just as quickly, they slipped away, leaving you more confused than before. How could someone care so deeply for you when you couldn't even remember who they were?

And yet, there were moments. Her laugh carried warmth that tugged at something buried deep within you. the way she said your name felt like home, even if you didn't understand why. The fire in her eyes when she talked about protecting you stirred something unspoken, something that felt like it had always been a part of you.

Despite the confusion, you couldn't help but feel drawn to her. Maybe it was the tenderness in her gaze, or the way your heart raced whenever she smiled. or perhaps it was something deeper. Something you couldn't name but felt in every fiber of your being, like a truth just out of reach.

one night, sitting on the rooftop, the hum of the lanes below was a distant murmur in the silence between you. You sat side by side with Vi, the weight of unspoken thoughts in the cool night air.

"Vi…" you began, your voice quiet as you stared out at the city "I-I don't know if I'll ever remember everything. I don't know if I can be the person you remember" You hesitated, your fingers twisting together nervously "But I want to try. I want to be that person for you"

Vi turned to you, her gaze soft but unwavering, her expression a mixture of hope and understanding. "you don't have to be anyone but who you are now" she said gently, her voice steady "I just… I just want to be here with you"

Her words stuck something deep within you, cutting through your uncertainty. for a moment, you were overwhelmed by how much this woman. this stranger who somehow felt like home. Had given herself to find you again.

"Vi…" you murmured, your voice trailing off as her eyes locked with yours. The space between you seemed to shrink, the weight of everything unsaid hanging heavy in the air.

slowly, tentatively, you leaned toward her, your heart pounding in your chest. She met you halfway, her lips warm and soft against yours. Her kiss was gentle yet filled with a quiet desperation, as though she had been holding back for years, waiting for this moment.

It wasn't just a kiss. It was a connection. A fragile bridge between the fractured pieces of your past and the uncertain promise of your future.

When you pulled back, your foreheads rested together, your breaths mingling as you both tried to steady yourselves. Vi smiled, her voice soft and teasing, though her eyes glistened with emotion "I've waited a long time for that, you know"

you couldn't help but smile back, a warmth blooming in your chest that chased away the lingering doubts "I think… maybe I've been waiting too. I just don't realize it"

in that moment, the weight of the past seemed lighter. What mattered wasn't what had been lost but the connection you were building now. one step, one moment at a time, together.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Hope you enjoyed reading :] don't forget to like.

I'm still working on some requests that should be out soon enough, if you want you can leave a request.

#vi arcane x reader #arcane #vi arcane #vi x reader #arcane league of legends #league of legends #arcane x reader #arcane x you #vi x you #vi x y/n #fluff

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shuastar · 3 days ago

Text

ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ .4 (JWW)

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴋᴇ!ᴡᴏɴᴡᴏᴏ x ᴀʀᴄʜᴅᴜᴄʜᴇꜱꜱ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴡᴄ: 10.2k (oops) warnings: cursing? hot wonwoo, obsessed wonwoo, a lot of tears (this entire thing is more of an angst than anything); y/n acts kind of annoyingly but its all for the plot i promise ᴀ/ɴ: i'm flying back and forth to and from korean rn bc i'm done w midterms rn!! sorry for the delay!! ALSO IM SO PROUD OF SEVENTEEN FOR WINNING 2 DAESANGS OMG; im also trying to go through requests at the same time so if i like dont answer for a while i promise im writing it!! just wait!! anyways, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ᴘʟꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ <3

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ; ɴᴇxᴛ

Wonwoo

Wonwoo would not consider himself a greedy or jealous man.

No, of course not. Why would he be when he could have everything he wanted in the palm of his hands? When he was the Archduke?

But the sight of her in the winter market roads, dressed too-thinly for the cold biting air of the evening pushes into his chest a stabbing sort of pain he cannot really place. And the sudden tension he feels from her presence, does nothing to ease the tsunami of emotions crashing into his chest.

The festive winter market of the Capital. The common festive winter market of the Capital. Never had he ever thought of bumping into y/n in the streets of the Capital – without a guard, no less. Although, he thinks, Mingyu serves more than enough of a guard for tonight. He knows that his thoughts are too bitter – too bitter, considering everything she has said, everything she has gone through because of him. Yet, he cannot stop the bile rising in his throat and his fists clenching by his sides as he only watches from the side.

The familiar, homey scents of warm cider and baked pies mingle with the cold evening air and sprinkles of snow fall around him, yet he can’t seem to pay attention to the stand owners who call for his attention.

He swallows as Y/n moves from the winter flower stall to a jewelry stall. He tries to ignore the way Mingyu laughs at her side, shoulder bumping hers and hand going up to pull her cloak over her head. He tries to ignore the unfamiliar flame of what seems to be anger, regret, or something in between, stoke the fires of his heart, as Y/n simply laughs. And it hurts. It hurts so much because she never laughed like that around him. At least, not since his return.

He cannot even begin to put into words how gorgeous she looks under the yellow lantern lights and the blinkings of the market stalls. He has just barely enough capacity to recognize how the deep greens and golds of her dress blend in rather unassumingly with the commoners also walking the snowy road. How different she looks when she is far from the palace walls that seem to have always guarded her independent spirit. How joyous she looks when she stares at a piece of jewelry in her hands, fingers running over the blue sapphire in the middle. The gem hangs from the thin gold chain delicately and he can’t help but think how pretty she would look in it.

He can’t hear the conversation, but he can see Mingyu lean down (curse him for his height), and also inspect the necklace that she is now holding up to his face.

When Y/n tilts her head, a soft smile gracing her features, Wonwoo’s heart clenches. Almost painfully. Painfully because he recognizes that smile – the smile that used to be locked away only for him when they shared late night tea in his parlor, when he gifted you a diamond-encrusted bangle for your eighteenth birthday, when he danced with you for your debutante, when he went boating with you on a random Thursday afternoon.

Painful because now you are staring up at Mingyu with the same look, some kind of unspoken familiarity in your eyes that he seems to have missed because it sure as fuck wasn’t there when he had left.

At your head tilt, Mingyu leans forward and says something too quiet to catch. But it makes you laugh – loud, brilliant, clear-cut like the most expensive of diamonds. It catches the attention of the people around you and they smile too. And he would if not for the twisting feeling of a knife in his gut because your carefree laugh he only ever heard in the privacy of the night, days ago, flows so naturally when you are with Mingyu.

What the fuck did he even say?

It’s a bitter sort of rage. More directed towards himself than anything. But he pins the blame on the prince, opting for an easier way to divulge it fully. It’s easier that way – anger to yourself is easier to let out when directed another way.

The knife’s presence exponentially sharpens and his throat feels weirdly scratchy when Mingyu gently touches your hand, taking the necklace out of your palm and placing into it a more extravagant piece. Your fingers brush. He can see it from where he is. And he can also see you look up at Mingyu in surprise at his sudden touch – no gloves, too. Were you worried about scandals with Mingyu? He wants to scoff at himself at being this ridiculous, but some shallow part of him wants to yell out your name and whisk you away. Away from Mingyu, away from the market, away from the Capital. To somewhere he can take a deep breath and just let you know. Let you know how much he-

“-Oh, I don’t know, Gyu,” you sigh.

Wonwoo is surprised at how close his feet had led him to you. If he takes a couple more steps, he can reach out and brush your hair from your shoulders.

Mingyu just smiles, canines biting down into his bottom lip. “What do you mean? It’s gorgeous. Matches your eyes ‘n everything, duchess.” He gives you a small little wink. It’s teasing, Wonwoo knows. It’s done in passing, which he also knows. But it stirs the pot of bubbling frustration (and jealousy) in his stomach like nothing had ever before.

And it doesn’t simmer, especially when you just laugh at Mingyu’s words, leaning into his presence to roam your eyes around on other jewels.

The only thing good to come out of that was your hand slowly letting the bracelet you were holding slip back onto the table.

Good. It didn’t suit you anyways.

You need something less flashy. More elegant and timeless. You are breathtaking enough.

He only watches, under the pretense of his hood and perusing through an antique stall, as Mingyu hands you another piece, fingers brushing. Again.

Wonwoo grits his teeth.

It’s something small – something that would have gone unnoticed by everyone else. But to him? To him, it feels mocking, almost patronizing and belittling.

You could have been in his place, it almost says. You could have been the one brushing fingers, tossing an arm around her shoulders, teasing her, laughing with her, buying her jewelry in the Capital night market. Buying her anything she wished for.

Mingyu’s ease with you, the natural way you just take up the space next to him, grates on Wonwoo’s nerves to the last degree.

Do you two even realize how you look to others? To him?

Do you realize how his heart clenches at the scene of Mingyu repeatedly suggesting jewelry Wonwoo knows you don’t like, only for you to laugh off his sulking comments about how you and he just don’t have the same taste in exquisite things?

Have you realized the meaning behind his flowers? His three words he had finally finalized in writing after countless sleepless nights’ worth of letters and love-essays?

The urge to step forward claws at him – to insert himself, force himself, into the situation – to reclaim some part of your attention he is vying for. But he can’t. He can’t bring his feet to move from their place nor his eyes to move from how you just glance back at your original necklace you chose, studying its gem and masterful metal work. He can’t. Not here. And definitely not now. Still, the thought of walking away feels equally impossible, as if leaving would signify some sort of defeat.

Wonwoo’s breath clouds the cold air, but he doesn’t notice. He has to force himself to take a step back – back and back and back until he has some reasonable amount of distance between you and Mingyu’s merry little party of two. His gloved hand raises to his chest and pressed hard, as if doing so would stop the chaotic, frantic beating of the muscle. His fingers curl into his coat and he desperately wants to hand you his jacket – wants to place the thick fur over your slightly shivering shoulders (something he tells himself Mingyu would not do, except he knows Mingyu would) – wants to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you close until your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the proximity. He wants to embrace you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder as you ramble on about the kind of jewelry you like, without knowing that he already knows. He wants to kiss you dizzyingly under the soft snow and cut off your pure sort of laughter. He wants to make you smile and laugh and then smile again just because you were with him. He wants to buy you bouquets of flowers just because he thought of you and send them to your royal advisory meetings. He wants to do those things and more, yet he wills himself to keep composure.

Not the time, he repeats to himself. Not the time.

She deserves her laughter, he tells himself, though the thought is bitter. Even if it’s not mine to share yet.

And although he wishes it would, the pain does not fade. It lingers in his chest cavity, raw and all-consuming, all-knowing, as he stands there, watching your joy seep into someone else’s laughter. And as Mingyu leans in even closer (terribly ungentleman-like, Wonwoo convinces himself), offering you yet another comment that coaxes yet another bubbly laugh, Wonwoo finally forces himself to turn away.

He feels a tightness in his chest and a strange thudding in his heart as he stands there, fists clenching as he tries to forget.

Forget the pain, forget the tears building up, forget what your absence turns him into.

The crisp night air bites at Wonwoo’s cheeks as he and Soonyoung approach the royal mansion. He would have much rather preferred if Seungcheol had held the Charity Ball in the actual royal palace, but the king had decided to move the venue to a “less extravagant” area, which was only a street down from the palace. So Wonwoo wasn’t too sure what Seungcheol was trying to accomplish except to freeze his palace guests to death as they walked over to the mansion.

As the tips of the open arched gates could be seen through the winter night’s haze, a warm glow upon the two of them, the mansion’s many windows spillions beacons of golden onto the welcoming courtyard, frozen over with snow. Already, there were many footprints that lined the fallen white carpet, melting the small ice flowers into water again.

The manor’s golden warmth made the cold knot in his stomach twist further. Beside him, Soonyoung walks with an easy stride – seemingly unaffected by the wintry air or the tension Wonwoo knows he is radiating.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight” Soonyoung suddenly says, tone half-teasing, words hanging in the air for Wonwoo to jump and catch in his mouth. “Trying to strategize your grand entrance?”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, focus already blurring at the edges. His fingers toy with the edges of his scarf.

Soonyoung casts a sidelong glance at him. “You’re impossible,” he mumbles as he simply flashes his royal knight badge at the soldiers guarding the gate, strolling along. The white of the falling snow blends in nicely with his blonde head of hair.

“Are you not looking forward to another night of forced smiles and silent judging on your part?” Soonyoung cracks a teasing grin, bumping Wonwoo’s shoulder.

However, when Wonwoo stays silent, face shadowed as his gaze locks on the mansion, Soonyoung’s grin falters.

“You okay?” A slant of worry in his voice does not escape Wonwoo and he feels almost guilty for worrying his closest friend.

Wonwoo swallows, shaking his head as if that would wake him from his trance. “Yes. Yeah, I am. Why would I not be?” He forces a laugh from the confines of his tight throat. It sounds almost hysteric to his ears – as if he was on his last straw. Soonyoung knows, too.

Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow as he places a firm hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder, stopping him in his place. He turns Wonwoo to face him. “Why? Is it because of her?”

Wonwoo falters in his forced grin. Just barely. But it’s enough for Soonyoung to notice.

“Ah,” Soonyoung sighs, clicking his tongue, “so I’m right.” Soonyoung smirks, eyes lighting up in interest but it drops when he realizes the tightness on Wonwoo’s face. “Why the-” he cuts himself off with a gasp. “Wait, please don’t tell me you did something stupid.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, lightly shoving Soonyoung away. “Shut up, man,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. “If you don’t have anything useful to say, I’m going inside.” Wonwoo resumes his walk down the snow-ridden aisle, down the middle of the courtyard.

Soonyoung groans. “Wonwoo!” His footsteps are light against the snow as he jogs to catch up with Wonwoo’s wide strides. “You did something, right? What did you do? Huh? What was it? You were literally with me for the entirety of last week!” Soonyoung whines, almost hanging off of Wonwoo’s arm, earning another eye roll from Wonwoo. “Was it bad? How did she react, huh? Why, it couldn’t have been that bad, right?”

Soonyoung jabs his finger at Wonwoo’s ribs, repeating the same phrases over and over until they reach the entrance of the mansion, huge golden doors guarded by two valets.

Wonwoo sighs, massaging his temple. “Will you shut up, please? It’s nothing, okay?” To the valet, he hands two pieces of papers, written on them the required name and title announcements of the night.

Soonyoung stubbornly shakes his head. “You did something. What was it?” he presses as the valets swing open the doors.

Wonwoo is quiet as his name, along with Soonyoung’s is read out loud for the entire mansion to hear. From his position at the front door, he can see how Seungcheol had turned the entire first parlor of the mansion into a ballroom of sorts. Near the end of the welcoming hall are the charity auction items – the blue sapphire jewelry set and the gold-set ruby diadem. At the call of his name, everyone stops, briefly, before staring up at the entrance balcony where he and Soonyoung are.

“What was it?” Soonyoung hisses, jabbing an elbow at Wonwoo’s ribs. Wonwoo grits his teeth at the sharp pain, throwing a side-ways look at Soonyoung.

“Jewelry,” Wonwoo grits out, pushing Soonyoung to start walking down the stairs into the chamber.

Soonyoung gasps, as if Wonwoo had just said something more scandalous like lingerie or an estate. “When?”

“Last Friday.”

“It’s been a week?”

“I suppose.”

Soonyoung scoffs in disbelief. “Unbelievable,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He clutches his chest in faux astonishment, eyes blown wider than necessary. “The great Archduke Jeon gifting jewelry – and flowers, I imagine – to a woman he claims doesn’t even-”

“-I don’t need your commentary, thank you very much,” Wonwoo interrupts, voice hard as he and Soonyoung reach, almost, the bottom of the staircase. His eyes scan the open chamber for a familiar face that almost taunts him like a dream. He can’t even control it. It’s natural, instinctive, almost. He needs to see her. He needs for his heart to stop thudding in his chest, just in case this time, she leaves him. Like he left her.

From next to Wonwoo, Soonyoung lets out a rather loud sigh. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he mutters under his breath. “You send her gifts in secret, pine after her like a lost puppy, and then show up to events like this – which you don’t even like – expecting… What? That she’ll somehow tap into her telepathic reserves and read your desperate mind?” Soonyoung tuts, shaking his head, starting to part with Wonwoo. “Man up, Wonwoo, come on. If you want her that bad, do something.”

Wonwoo says nothing, his jaw tightening painfully as his teeth grit against each other and his fingers fist at his sides.

If Wonwoo had to see another fucking interaction between you and Mingyu that ended in laughter from your side, he was going to bust a vein. Most likely the one that was likely protruding from his neck. If he had to sit in the stupid fucking ballroom watching your gorgeous face scrunch up in delight at what someone else says to you, he was going to lose his shit. Here and now, no regrets.

Well, maybe a little regret. But mostly no regrets.

His eyes trace your figure as you return back to your table, draped in a rich crimson cloth, occupied by a small group (that deep-down, he felt hurt not being invited into): Joshua’s wife, laughing and fan fluttering in animated conversation with Seungcheol, Joshua, who simply leans back in his chair, arm draped over the back of his wife’s chair, you, with your dazzling twinkle in your eyes and the way the light reflected – refracted – off of almost every part of you, and Mingyu.

Mingyu makes him freeze. The prince leans in ever-so-slightly, a teasing smile dancing on the corners of his lips as he whispers something in your ear that makes you blush like a virgin, lightly slapping his upper arm in protest at his words. Wonwoo tries his best to not walk up and intervene because who was he to decide what you do with your life? He didn’t see you as a duty, thus he doesn’t need to intervene whenever someone is-

Mingyu leans back in his gold-draped chair, a casual arm thrown over the back of your. It’s not the act in itself that bothers Wonwoo (although it does), it’s the way Mingyu’s fingertips drum against your upper arm. Your bare upper arm. Your bare upper arm that should be clean of anyone’s touch (except for his). The prince reaches into his coat pocket, brandishing something akin to a box – neatly wrapped, twinkling under the low light.

Wonwoo can’t really see your face from where he is – on the other side of the shorter hall, arms crossed, and leaning against a wall – but he can see that you tilt your head, a scrunch of your brows as you probably ask Mingyu what he was giving you.

Mingyu shrugs, an easy grin on his face, and places the box in your hands, opening the top. Wonwoo sees your eyes widen in surprise, which makes Joshua, his wife, and even Seungcheol lean forward to see what it is that Mingyu had the audacity to give you.

When you bring it out of the box, Wonwoo has to admit the quality of the gift. It’s a handkerchief, embroidered with amazing detail and an intricate floral pattern. He can make out your initials on the corner and the studded pearls that line the other corner in small mother-of-pearl flowers.

For a while, you’re silent and Wonwoo thinks you’re going to shove it back in the box and place it back in Mingyu’s pocket. Because that’s what you would do – at least with him.

But then your lips slowly curve up into a soft, genuine smile – the whites of your teeth poking out – and you launch out of your seat, arms suddenly thrown around Mingyu. And Wonwoo can see all of this unfold in absolute slow motion. It’s all in slow motion — from the way you jump up with a small clap to the way you bring Mingyu in a hug that’s so unlike you that even Joshua’s wife blinks in surprise at your sudden movement.

Wonwoo can hear your delighted laughter and “Thank you!” even from where he is. Mingyu looks rather flustered at your sudden embrace but seems to brush it off with a quick laugh and a sheepish grin, mumbling something like “if I knew you would like handkerchiefs so much, I would’ve bought more, duchess.”

God. Wonwoo’s nails presses painfully into his palms when Mingyu leans in again and steals another bout of laughter from your precious mouth. Wonwoo’s chest tightens at the sight. The sight of your joy, so free and unguarded, so genuine, should have been more beautiful. And it is. He thinks you’re the most beautiful person to ever walk this planet and any other – your warm eyes, your pouting lips, your blushed cheeks, your gorgeous peals of laughter, the way you blush under any of his heavy stares. But this time, looking on at you and Mingyu, it filled him with such a shredding visceral sense of loss. A sense of loss at the time he willingly gave up – what you could have been – what you are to him now – what he is to you – what he wants to desperately shout out for the entire world to hear.

The undulations of the orchestra notes slowly faded out gradually as Mingyu stole more laughter from you. And Wonwoo barely even recognized Soonyoung standing next to him, a hand on his shoulder, saying something. But his voice sounds muted, almost like he’s underwater and she’s the only source of pure oxygen that he needs to inhale to live. All he can see is you. You, you, you, you, you. Just like always. Except this time, Mingyu’s next to you, elbowing you, bumping shoulders, brushing fingers, twirling your hair, gifting you handkerchiefs, for Christ’s sake.

And he suddenly finds himself pushing off the wall (and consequently Soonyoung’s arm and his concerned words of “Where the fuck are you going?”), and slowly walking over to the crimson table. He doesn’t notice the curious glances of the other guests as his growing presence becomes the source of whisperings between tables. All he can he is you. You, leaning towards Mingyu, the faintest of blushes barely visibly but fucking unmistakeable. You and red. Dark red as some carnal part of him – a desperate part of him drowning in jealousy – takes over, flashing warning signs across his brain.

With every step he took closer to the two, the room seemed to shift around him – air growing heavier and thicker with tension. Before he could stop himself, Wonwoo was two steps away, jaw clenched, head slightly tilted down, arms crossed. The table instantly falls silent when Joshua looks up and blinks, almost surprised at Wonwoo’s intrusion. Seungcheol straightens in his chair, throwing a questioning mouthing of words at Wonwoo (that he completely misses), and Joshua’s wife darting a glance between himself and Mingyu.

“Is this really necessary?” Wonwoo’s voice is low but it carries. Each word, though he means to not make it so, is clipped and sharp, precise knife points nicking parts of your plush skin. His stormy gaze flickers briefly to Mingyu before fixing on you. It’s easier like this. It feels like he can still reach out and know you’re there. He knows what he might look like – a man without a warrant. And technically, he doesn’t have one. He doesn’t have an extravagant excuse as to why he is suddenly intervening except for the fact that he felt jealous.

The only thing that falters his confidence is the way your face almost immediately drops at his words. Instead, your expression is replaced with something he can’t quite place – surprise, deliberate coldness, and maybe something sharper. Slowly, you rise, your silk gown flowing down your form. He wants to tell you how beautiful you look tonight – how the sage green suits you exceedingly well, how the pearl-drop earrings blend in perfectly with your braided hair tonight – but he notices the necklace that sits in between your collarbones – it’s small, but it’s there. The necklace with the crafted jade and pearl flowers. The one you had periodically gone back to at the Night Market. The one he had, after not-so-deliberate thought, gone up and bought before the end of the night and slipped under your door along with a single tulip.

“I am confused as to why any of this is your concern,” you say evenly, voice quiet but steady.

Those words threaten to crack Wonwoo’s composure. He can feel his jaw tighten because he doesn’t know why it is his concern. “This-” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair. He tries his best to swallow down the tightness of his throat. “This act, this pretense with him-”

Your laugh cuts him off. It’s nothing like the one you give Mingyu. It’s sharper, more combined with a set of unshed tears. Wonwoo wants to punch himself. “Pretense?” You whisper, voice cutting through his words like they were made of the thinest grass. It is sharper than the cold air outside, more biting with unsaid disbelief. Your eyes narrow and he can so clearly see the anger simmering inside of them that it takes him off-guard. You take a step closer. His breath catches.

“You are no one who should be talking about pretense, your grace,” you hiss. And Wonwoo tries desperately to keep his tormented eyes to rest on your eyes, but they flicker hesitantly to your lips, down to your necklace, and then back up to your eyes. “Is this-” you gesture vaguely to the entire group, “part of your duty too? Are you afraid of someone snatching up your convenient little wife before you can call it official?” Your voice slowly rises in pitch the more Wonwoo’s eyes wander. And he swears, it’s not on purpose, but he can’t bear to look at your glassy, tear-covered orbs because he knows then that he will break. He’ll break and bring you into a hug and start murmuring apologies for everything he’s ever done.

“What is your-” you stop yourself and he knows immediately that you’ve seen his eyes flicker to your lips. You scoff. It’s loud, haunting, taunting. “Fucking look at me,” you snap, hands balling into small fists by your side. Wonwoo looks up into your eyes and it feels like a part of his heart shatters at the sight of your faint dark circles and redness of your eyes. “Your grace, I’ve said this once and I’ll say it only one more time,” you whisper, stepping just one more half-step closer to him. He can feel your dress flutter against his skin and your expensive Capital perfumery perfume waft towards him. “If duty is all you care about,” you choke out, and he can see the way your bottom lip trembles as you continue, “get the fuck out of my life.”

The words hit him squarely in his chest. He can feel his constructed walls tremble under the weight and restrained emotion of your words.

He swallows down his own set of tears. It’s infuriating, really, having the one person you care about the most strike you down before you can even say anything. It’s frustrating when even he can’t decide to let you be or if he needs you – needs you the breathe, to sleep, to help the blood flow in his veins.

Around you, the ballroom almost holds its breath. Of course, the dancers still twirled, the string ensemble still played on, but in the one meter radius of you, every table feels frozen, watching a scene unfold that no one dares to interrupt.

“You still think you’re part of my-” Wonwoo starts, but the way you stare at him almost chokes him out of the rest of his words. He couldn’t even argue against the truth of what you said. On the probability that you had figured out the flowers and necklace were from him, it would have only worked against him in ways he had not properly thought out or even intended. He wishes he could just scream out the words.

You take a shaky breath, expression almost forcefully hardening as you lift your chin. “Don’t question me, your grace, when you’ve made it crystal clear that your reputation and your title mean more to you than anything else.” He can hear the wavering undulations of your voice, but your resolve, whether forced or not, held firm. It held the entirety of your sentences together. “So yes. I’m going to keep up with whatever it is you think is pretense and you…” you trail off as your eyes rake up and down his body, finally landing on the crest of his duchy by his shoulder. You scoff, “should stick to what you think is best for your Archduchy.”

Wonwoo feels almost wronged at your words. Is that really what you see him as? Did you really only see him as someone who would do something if it meant for a greater reward for his duchy? His heart thuds in his chest, except this time, it’s in dread. The sting of your words root him in place and the crowd blurs into a scene of motion and moving colors.

“Then why do you wear the necklace?” he murmurs, more to himself than anything, but you hear him.

Your hand flies to finger at your necklace, smoothening over the jade pieces. You look down. “A mistake on my part,” you whisper, voice shaking now. Your finger suddenly undo the clasp at the back and the necklace falls into your palm. The jade flowers sit there, like a dejected piece of artwork. Without any more words, you drop the necklace into his palm. The stones feel much heavier than when he bought them – as if they had absorbed some of the weight of your words. He looks up at you – mouth slightly open, eyes blown wide. He can’t even believe it. This feels as if you were finally ending everything. Because you knew the flowers, the jade, were from him.

“Wait-” he hurries, fingers clenching over the jade. But before he can say anything else, you turn around and Mingyu stands. Wonwoo can only watch as you turn away from him, back straight and head held high, as you walk towards Mingyu, who rests a firm hand on your shoulder.

“Perhaps, Archduke,” Mingyu says softly, though Wonwoo can hear – loud and clear – the unmistakable warning, “it would be best to just let her be.”

Wonwoo’s fists clench at his sides. He has to be trembling from the pure forceful restraint he held all night now fraying exponentially at the edges. His gaze lingers on Mingyu’s hand, on the easy familiarity between you and him, on the jealousy that gnaws at his insides.

Wonwoo can’t bear to speak. The faint scent of your perfume lingers in the air, almost like a cruel reminder of your presence even as you move further away from him. The orchestra swells with the tsunami of his emotion. The triumphant notes almost feel like mockery to the hollowness of his chest. The ballroom returns back to life but Wonwoo can’t seem to remove himself from his position, until he feels a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Wonwoo.” Soonyoung. “Wonwoo, come on. You’re making a scene,” Soonyoung whispers, pulling his arm.

Wonwoo stumbles after Soonyoung, feet not leading him in any way. He wants to scoff – to go back up to his room and cry. He had told himself that he could handle this – seeing you, being near you without tapping into any of the feelings he had tried so hard to suppress. But now, at your words, faced with the stunning reality of the depth of your scar, the realistic distance, of you being able to continue life without him, a tsunami of loss threatens to drown him. Because he can’t. He can’t live without you. Because he had underestimated, severely, the pain of it.

And for the first time, being pulled out of the ballroom by Soonyoung, he wonders if he has lost you for good. If he has no chance anymore of pulling you close to him and kissing you under the starlight again. If he has no chance anymore of you returning his deep-rooted affections.

y/n

It was kind of sad to see the royal gardens cloaked under both night and the snow. Your hands brush against the winter rose bushes as you walk along the path to the atrium, outfitted with a dying fire in a hearth and hot tea that steams under the wintry temperature. You smile softly at the memories flooding your mind of running through these very gardens when you were younger, laughing and tumbling with all your friends. Smiling during a time that seemed so carefree.

You wish you could go back. You wish you could go back and experience the carefree again. You miss it. You miss being able to fall asleep at night without trouble, being able to wake up in the morning without cold sweat in a nightmare, being able to go about your day without the constant plaguing thought of him wandering the confines of your mind.

A soft crunch of a branch startles you. You turn.

The sight in front of you makes you stumble back in surprise.

Wonwoo steps up to you hesitantly. It’s more so the expression – the emotions – clouded with something so raw it seems almost not humane in his eyes that stutter your breath in your lungs. Under the moonlight, way past the time both of you should be outside, he looks vulnerable. Much more vulnerable since the last time you saw him at that stupid charity ball two nights ago.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. It’s quiet but it rings through the empty garden. You want to laugh at how much your voice lacks the conviction you wish it had. You fidget with your fingers as Wonwoo stares at you with an unfamiliar intensity. The rosiness of his cheeks make you wonder if he’s slightly tipsy.

“I couldn’t stay away,” he rasps, voice a low murmur that carries to your ears, stabbing a long knife in your lung.

You want to scoff but the deep tenor of his voice stops you from actually doing so. Your arms instead cross over your chest. “Why?”

You’re not quite sure if you want to hear the reason, lest all of your walls come crumbling down, but you ask anyway.

Wonwoo steps closer, movements slow as if to not spook you. “Because there are things I need to say – things I should have said years ago.”

You swallow, head tilted up to look into his eyes. Behind his glasses, tears swim unidentified in his eyes. Rather late of you, you want to say. Instead, you opt on “Say them,” you whisper. “What is it?”

His jaw tightens. You want to reach up and kiss his worries away. You do, really. For a second, it seems as though he is regretting ever bumping into you, but then he speaks, voice trembling with the weight of all of his emotions.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, hands reaching for yours. You give them up without hesitation – as if your body was acting on its own habitual wants. “I made a mistake. I left because I thought it was the right thing to do. Because I thought I could protect you by staying away – by returning to you with some sort of success.” He falters. “But I was wrong, y/n. I’ve been wrong about so many things.”

You can feel the foundation of your walls shaking.

No. No, stay with your resolve, y/n.

You look away, lips pressing into a thin line. But you don’t pull your hands out of his caress. “You’ve said enough. I want to be with someone who doesn’t disappear the moment duty calls.”

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath. You can almost feel the unspoken accusations swirl between you.

“Is that really what you think of me?” Wonwoo's words sound almost bitter. “That I left without caring? That I would risk everything just to avoid you for the time being?”

“What else am I supposed to think, Wonwoo?” You snap back, your voice rising. You wish desperately for him to leave. If you talk about this any longer, you were going to break. “You left without a word, without confidence in me, and then waltzed back into my life expecting everything to be as it was! But people don’t just fucking stand around waiting-”

“-You have no idea what you’re saying, y/n.” Wonwoo’s voice is dangerously low now. He steps even closer and you finally register something in his hand. “Do you think I do all of this because it’s convenient? Because it’s an obligation?” he asks. It hurts to hear your words used against you. It hurts even more to hear the pure anger in his voice.

“Isn’t it, though?” you whisper, stepping back defensively, hands slipping out of his hold. “Wonwoo,” you murmur looking down at your feet briefly, “ the only reason we’re even speaking is because of a scandal. We are simply solutions to each other’s inconvenient situations! What part of that do you not get?” You slam a hand on your own chest. Your breaths come out as puffs of white in the air. You can feel your tears welling up in your eyes.

Wonwoo stares at you in disbelief, as if he can’t believe he’s hearing you right. His hands curl into fists.

The next words he utters are low and full of just pure fury (at you or himself, you’re not too sure). His next words almost punch all the breath out of you.

“If you think I’d waste my fucking time, my life, on anyone I didn’t want – on anyone who didn’t mean everything to me – then you never even knew me at all.”

His words hit you square in the face. It’s so vulnerable, the most emotional you’ve seen him, that it incites another spark in your chest. “But you’ve never been here, Wonwoo. You always leave! You’ve left once and you’ll keep on leaving.” Your own words are a desperate attempt to keep your walls up. You can feel your tears poke and prod and threaten to fall. You can hear your voice shake and your bottom lip tremble at your words. Actually, more of his words. You want to keep arguing. You want him to leave – leave you, leave the Capital, leave your life, but you desperately need him to stay – stay with you, stay in the Capital, stay in your life until you die.

Wonwoo shakes his head as if he doesn’t agree with you. “You can call it duty all you want, y/n. But it doesn’t change my heart. It doesn't change what I feel towards you. You think I really wouldn’t have stayed if I could help it? You think I’d willingly let someone else have what I’ve always needed more than my next breath?” Wonwoo’s hand comes up to caress your cold cheek, thumb rubbing your cheekbone.

“Don’t say that shit to me,” you whisper, glassy eyes gazing up at his. You can see the tears that are welling up near the corners of his eyes and if you didn’t have the last remaining thread of resolve left in you, you wouldn’t have kissed his tears away.

Your shattered heart jackhammers in your chest as Wonwoo stares into what feels like your soul. It makes you feel bare – naked, almost. “Y/n,” he whispers, his voice breaking, “I came back for you.”

You don’t make a move to leave his warmth, but you look up at him with your own air of defiance. There’s a confusing sort of wreath of emotions that circle your bruised heart, and the words escape you before you can stop them. “You’ve left before. And I would be a fool to not believe you’ll leave again.”

Wonwoo’s hand stills on your face and he looks so pained for a moment that you wonder if continuing your facade is really a good idea. If it’s better to just give in. “I left to protect what matters, y/n, you have to understand,” he almost begs, desperate for you to just know, “To protect you.”

You bite your cheek, a single tear falling from your eyes. It’s immediately rubbed away by Wonwoo’s thumb. “And what do you want me to do, Wonwoo?” you whisper, voice bordering on hysterics. “Wait around until you leave me? Again? Do you know the pain of your heart shattering when someone like that just up and leaves?”

A few more tears fall from your eyes. You can’t even help it anymore. You feel the tightness of your lungs come back again. You can feel yourself start to choke up on your own tears. You can feel yourself start to break down – unwind completely under the softly falling snow.

“No, no, no,” Wonwoo murmurs, cupping your face, brushing away all your tears. “Y/n please, I left because I had to. But now I’m here. I’m here, and I won’t leave,” he whispers, breath fanning over your lips.

“I’m convenient, Wonwoo,” you suddenly cry, tears streaming down your face. “You need a partner, not me!” You want to look away, run away, but Wonwoo’s caress on your jaw holds you still.

Wonwoo’s face contorts painfully with hurt. And you wonder if you have finally pushed him out. But then his jaw sets, like every time he is ready to argue in the royal court. Like every time he is ready to prove his point. “If I had wanted convenience, I’d have chosen anyone but you. This,” he gestured between you two, “is the furtherest thing from fucking easy.”

You open your mouth, but you can’t find the words to express anything you’re feeling. The pain, the hurt, the resolve you are trying desperately to keep up. Wonwoo watches you with such sharp eyes it sends you into another spiral of being flustered.

“I’m giving you my heart, y/n,” he murmurs. One look into his eyes tells you everything you need to know. “It’s terrifying – more than any battlefield I’ve seen,” he admits, “but for you? For you, I’d face any danger, any fear over and over again, even if it means standing in front of the love of my life, knowing you don’t believe me. Even if it means standing in front of the one person I would give up my life for, knowing she doesn’t want me like I want her.”

Your eyes blow wide and a stuttered gasp of a breath feels punched out of your stomach. For a moment, it seems deathly quiet – even the winds seem to soften around you two. And then memories of the nights of your sobs, of your broken heart, scattered into the smallest of shards on the floor, taunt you like a haunted nightmare, circling over and over again.

“Maybe you should have given it to someone who wouldn’t have questioned it,” you whisper, placing a hand over his. “Do you think your proclaimed love is enough, Wonwoo, to erase my pain? My memories? That you can come here and confess and it’ll fix just about everything?”

You know. You’re being overly critical. You’re being annoying, you’re being frustrating. You know he means every word he utters because he’s Jeon Wonwoo. If he didn’t mean it, he would have not even said it. But even you can’t help the words that flow out of you, fueled with bitterness and pettiness.

“No,” he says softly, interlocking your hands together. You almost pull away. “I don’t even expect forgiveness, Y/n. Hell, I don’t even deserve it. But I can’t keep pretending I don’t fucking love you. Like I don’t want you by my side for every passing hour. That I don’t want-” his voice breaks and you flinch in surprise when a single tear rolls down his cheek. “That I don’t love you ‘till my last breath.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.

You shake your head, pulling away from his reach, frantically brushing through your hair. “This is unfair, Wonwoo. You can’t just- just come back and say that you love me.” You sound desperate even to your own ears. You will for Wonwoo to stop there. Please.

“It’s all I have, y/n,” he admits, voice cracking at your name. The way he utters your name, it carries such unrestrained emotion that it makes you shudder. “It’s all I’ve ever had.”

Your knees give out, and you sink into your skirts, arms caging your body close to your legs. You rock yourself back and forth gently, eyes trained on the white snow beneath your feet. “What am I supposed to do with that?” You whisper, more to yourself than to him, but it catches Wonwoo’s ears.

He kneels in the cold snow, brushing hair out of your face. “I’m willing to wait, y/n, you have to know. There is no one else. There never was and there never will be. And when you are ready to believe that – believe me – I’ll be here. Always. I’ll wait. Even if it takes fifty years. I’ll wait.” He tucks the strands of curled hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your temple. Another hand rubs your shoulder. “And I’m sorry, y/n,” he continues. “I’m so sorry for leaving you by yourself for all those years. I really am.”

You can’t bear to look up because you can already feel two warm teardrops on the back of your hand that Wonwoo holds close to his face. Because you know that if you look up and see his desperate, dejected eyes, it’ll haunt you forever. Because if you look up and then match his expression to his vulnerable words, laced with such truth, you’ll break.

“I don’t know if I can, Wonwoo,” you finally murmur.

“That’s okay. I’ll wait,” he responds. His words are full of such conviction they almost reassure you.

“Don’t say that.”

“Y/n,” he laughs, tears falling down his face. “I’m not giving up on us.”

“You should!” you sob, burying your face into your palms. “Wonwoo, just give up on us! Please!” You don’t mean it. Not even one bit. But you say it because you can’t live through him leaving again. Because if, in the chance that he does, leave again, you don’t think you can bear it. You know your heart won’t be able to bear the brunt force of it.

Wonwoo shakes his head. You know he knows. Or at least can tell. “I can’t, y/n. Not when you mean so much to me. Not when it doesn’t feel like living when you’re not close to me – when you’re not next to me,” he replies. His voice is much calmer than yours and holds to it a sense of firmness in his decision, like nothing could convince him out of it. He pulls you up by your arms, holding you at arms-length, almost inspecting your face for something. Some emotion he may be losing in the heat of everything.

“Wonwoo, please. Let me just forget,” you murmur, nails biting into your palms.

Wonwoo shakes his head again, tilting your face up. He swallows. Your red eyes, swollen from tears, close briefly at his warm hand. “You know I can’t, y/n. You mean everything to me.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“Maybe. But you should be too.”

“Wonwoo…”

“Y/n, I’m not demanding an answer right now. I know the pain I’ve caused you. I know the-” Wonwoo stops suddenly when he sees you biting your lips, teeth clenching down hard on the flesh until you can feel a thin sheen of iron against your tongue. His brows furrow and his thumb gently pries your lip from your teeth, letting out a small sigh. “You don’t ever have to say anything. I just needed you to know. I need you to know how much I love you.”

Wonwoo ends with a certain sort of flourish you remember from when he would conclude a debate in the National Academy, or when he would argue with his father. It was with a conviction that he knew the other person could not argue against. And you couldn’t.

“Don’t do this to me,” you mutter, rubbing your eyes as if to stop the flow of tears. Your heart clenched and you could feel the cold start to seep in.

Wonwoo’s eyes softened at your tears. You stare down at your feet as his hands work to unbuckle the fur cloak from his shoulders. In the next second, your body is engulfed in a familiar sort of warmth and the scent of a more familiar cologne. He adjusts the cloak around your shivering frame. Warm fingers brush your tears off your skin and your hair from your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, angel.”

Your breath hitches at the nickname. The nickname that took you three years to get over – to forget and partially forgive. The nickname that felt so wrong coming out of anyone else’s mouth. You look up, warm tears pooling in your eyes again. “Don’t call me that,” you whisper and you know he can hear the pure pain in your voice. “Don’t-” you hit his chest with your fist, though lightly, “fucking call me that,” you choke out. Your forehead rests on his chest, tears falling freely down your cheeks, chin, and onto the snow. You can feel the gentle pressure of Wonwoo’s chin on your head and the way his hesitant arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer to his embrace – pulling you closer to his comforting warmth.

Wonwoo presses his lips together, inhaling a sharp breath. “I’m sorry, y/n, I really am. You don’t have to answer,” he confesses, more desperate this time. “I’ll wait. I’ll wait and wait until you’re ready for me, whenever that is. And if you accept only for one day, that’s okay too.”

Wonwoo’s fingers fix the cloak around your shoulders and they falter when they brush gently against your empty neck. There is a pang of guilt when you realize it’s because of how you shove the necklace he had gifted you back into his hands on that night. But he doesn’t linger, opting to pull away.

“It’s all okay, y/n. It’s okay. And I’m sorry,” Wonwoo murmured one last time, before he pressed a fleeting kiss – gentle, warm, so him – against your forehead. Before he turns away and steps through the snow-covered walkway, back towards the warmth of the palace, leaving you with your own bubbling thoughts.

There is a tightening sensation in your heart that travels along the arteries and veins and seeps into your lungs, then the rest of your chest, until you find yourself slumped on a bench, tears soaking your handkerchief and sobs echoing through the otherwise quiet garden.

Approximately two days later, Joshua comes to visit you in your Capital estate, hands laden with gifts sent up from his wife who had gone down early to their country duchy.

Your parlor is warm, lit by the steady glow and crackle of the fire that dances within the ornate hearth. Darkened drapes are tied back, letting the minimal winter sun seep into the room. A soft atmosphere of silence wraps itself around the room, broken only by the soft clinks of your cups as you and Joshua both sip on the tea laid out in the tea table in front of you.

Joshua sits opposite you in a high-backed chair. His usual easy demeanor around you belies the sharpness of his attention. You can see it just from how his brows scrunch and his eyes dart from your face to your wringing hands in your lap. His coat is draped over the arm of his chair, leaving him only in a simple waistcoat. He cradles his own teacup with the same kind of quiet thoughtfulness that seems to define his entire being in times like this.

The tension only grows as you slowly get more anxious at your senior’s silence and Joshua grows more wary of your wandering eyes – how your gaze flickers to the flames and then to the ceiling and then back to your hands, never truly focusing on anything.

“Do you have anything to tell me?” Joshua asks, voice gentle but firm, how it’s always been with you. Sometimes, you wonder if he actually saw himself as more of your father than your older brother.

You hesitate to respond. Should you tell him? No, you want to argue. But technically, if Joshua was already asking you if you had anything to tell him, that meant that he already knew something happened, or he already knew what happened and wanted to hear it from you. Either way, it leaves you with no choice but to answer him.

“Why?” you choose to respond, setting your teacup down.

Joshua shrugs, stirring his tea. “Just a hunch,” he hums.

You’re quiet. And Joshua indulges in your voluntary silence. But only for a minute, as it has always been. Joshua Hong is only patient when he wants to be.

“Y/n, what happened between you and Wonwoo?” he finally asks, ripping the coarsely-placed bandage off of your wound. He leans forward, elbows on his knees.

You sigh, slumping down in your chair. Your hand pulls at your hair. “What didn’t happen,” you mutter.

Joshua sighs, tapping your foot. “Not an answer. Come on, y/n. I need you to tell me so that I can help you or something.”

You falter at his words. It was curious, really, how Joshua knew exactly the perfect time to come and visit you. How he knew exactly when you needed help.

You finally give in.

“He said he loves me,” you whisper. You cringe at your own words. They feel foreign leaving your own mouth, and maybe it’s because you haven’t even given yourself the time to wrap your own head around it. But in any sense, you say it.

“So he finally confessed,” Joshua muses, as if he already knew your little tidbit. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did, really. He had a knack of finding things out before you could properly process what was happening. But it does annoy you, just a little bit. It’s the same thing, you guess, as Seungcheol asking you to weekly afternoon teas to see if everything in your life is okay.

“If you put it that way,” you mutter, crossing your arms, eyes fluttering over to the window.

There is a thick sheet of silence that lands heavy between you two as Joshua chooses not to respond. Instead, he sets his cup down on the small table between you with deliberate care. He studies you for a long moment and for a second, you think you have biscuit crumbs on your chin or something.

“I feel like I can guess what you said to him,” Joshua finally says, leaning back on his chair.

You nod hesitantly. “I just-” you sigh, sinking further into the chair, “-I don’t want to be the convenient choice so that he can fulfil his obligations. What if he doesn’t choose me if he had the option?” you ask quietly. An edge of bitterness and underlying hurt seeps into your tone even though you try to mask it. And you know Joshua picks up on it too.

“If that’s what you believe,” Joshua says, voice low and deliberate it almost scares you, “then you don’t know him as well as you think.”

You blink at his words. The certainty in his words – almost like he knows because he’s talked it over with the person in question – throws you off. It’s rather unlike Joshua to frequently give relationship or love advice, seeing as how his own marriage came to fruition.

You’re about to retort when Joshua continues.

“Wonwoo’s never taken the easy path,” he says, “Not once. Not in the National Academy, not in society, not in the knight corps, and definitely not when it comes to you. Actually, the man probably takes the hardest route whenever it comes to you.” His words hang in the air, laden with something akin to a heavy truth that makes your chest tighten. No tears though, which is good, considering the considerable amount of tears you’ve accumulated over the past couple of days.

The glow of the firelight lends a warmth to Joshua’s face that contrasts with the intensity of his gaze. You want to desperately argue, to push back against the certainty of his words, but the sheer conviction in them, as well as Joshua’s rare sure relationship advice, has you basically grasping for words.

“He’s struggling too, Y/n.” His words are quiet but firm enough to pierce the silence.

You laugh, tears stuck in your throat. “Oh, I bet,” you mumble.

“The weight of duty, of everything, it’s heavier on him that anyone else realizes,” Joshua hums, pausing for a bit when he sees your frown, “But you can-”

Suddenly, the doors to your parlor swung open, followed by hurried half-yells of your estate staff asking the prince to “Please wait outside, your highness!”

Both your and Joshua’s heads whip towards the sound, the tense atmosphere now conveniently broken. When you turn towards the oak doors of your parlor, Mingyu stands in the doorway, his wide frame taking up the entire doorway. He looks rushed, almost distressed – hair sticking out of his fur hat, cloak lopsided on his shoulders.

Joshua opens his mouth to speak but Mingyu beats him to it.

“Oh thank god you’re here,” he breathes, ripping his hat off of his head as he bends forward, hands on his knees as he tries to collect himself.

You turn your wide eyes towards Joshua as if he can give you an answer. Joshua only shrugs, confusion marring the space between his eyes.

“Your highness, what is this about?” Joshua asks, standing up as Mingyu makes his way over to the long couch, collapsing on top of it.

Mingyu heaves in another breath. “He left,” he states.

“What?” your voice is sharp with annoyance. Really, the men in this kingdom need to learn how to talk in full sentences. How is anyone supposed to understand who “he” is when the speaker doesn’t clarify it with any proper noun? “Speak properly, Mingyu.”

Mingyu looks up from his position on the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. “Wonwoo, Y/n,” he sighs, turning over to face the back of the couch. “He was commissioned to the north. Again. He left at dawn yesterday, apparently.”

Mingyu’s words are like a bath of cold water that is thrown on you. They crash over you like an unwanted gasp of air. It threatens to break you. You can’t breathe and you don’t know why. Your body suddenly feels like it isn’t yours. You feel like your lungs are caving in themselves and you can feel your heart punching at your ribs, threatening to break the bones. You clutch at your chair, gasping in inhales of oxygen like you are a fish out of water. Like you were some sort of broken machine that needed fuel. Like you had just heard a world-ending news.

He was gone.

“Left?” you croak out and a gasp of air follows, which clearly worries both Joshua and Mingyu because both men either stand up or sit up, heads whipping towards your weak voice. You don’t even realize that you’re crying until Mingyu’s eyes blow wide and he’s hurrying over, dabbing your tears off with his handkerchief. You want to push him away – let yourself mingle in with another set of tears – but the only thing that you can think is that his cologne is too strong compared to Wonwoo’s. The only thing that you can think of, while your eyes drift towards the open-curtained windows and watch the thick snow fall down from the dark skies, is that Wonwoo left. Again. Wonwoo left you again. And he’ll have to ride through the thick snow of the Capital and then ride again through the thicker snow of the countryside, and then fight in the thickest snow of the north. That he’ll face another battlefield – a battlefield you knew, from Soonyoung’s letters – that he hated with all his being. That he’ll most likely get injured while fighting for the king, for the kingdom, for you, apparently. That he might-

“Oh my god,” you breathe, shooting up and out of your seat with a speed that scares both Mingyu and Joshua, who are staring at you like you’re going through a life-changing crisis. “Oh my god!” you choke out, steadying yourself with your chair. The three words just fall from your lips like a mantra as you pace back and forth through your parlor, pulling at the ends of your hair and biting your lips. And through everything – Mingyu glancing over at Joshua and Joshua trying to get Nai to bring you some chamomile tea – the only thought in your head is the singular worry that gnaws and teeths at your entire soul: what if he dies?

: ̗̀➛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴡɪɴᴇᴅ -- ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ @syluslittlecrows @gaslysainz @meowmeowminnie @luvjichang @peachytokki @nicoleparadas @haneulparadx @venuszaa @lilylikesthat @ppaia @ameliamirabela @tearsdntfall617

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