#I love him dearly. did u know | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinycoffeeroom · 9 months ago

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treat you better | carlos sainz

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Could I request a Carlos smau where another driver breaks your heart and he’s there to pick up the pieces and make you whole again? Please and thank you ❤️

cw: cheating, bad guy charles, mentions of unwell family members, cursing

a/n: charles and alex i love u guys i promise this is just for the au <3

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November

👤 charles_leclerc liked by fan, fan, and 78,283 others

f1gossip Trouble in paradise for Charles and Y/N? Charles Leclerc was spotted on a long walk on one of Monaco's more secluded islands with a mysterious brunette and his and Y/N's dog, Leo, this weekend. Sources say the pair were often looking to see if there were cameras around, the two of them giggling as they held hands and played with the puppy. Y/N L/N, Charles girlfriend of 2 years, is currently said to be on a trip home to see family, we wonder if the two have broken up or if Charles is back to his old ways?

fan f1gossip tagging charles is so shady i love it

fan when i catch you charles

fan no bc remember when a fan said they met y/n in her hometown and she was visiting her gran bc she's not doing too good? charles u fuckin suck bro ↳ fan wtf really???? oh i hope his tyres stick to the road next race ↳ fan kmag you know what you need to do ↳ fan we put our hopes and prayers in the paddock terror 🙏🙏

fan ok but the girls gorgeous ↳ fan THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY FROM THIS? ↳ fan im just saying damn

fan this is not what i meant when i said i wanted silly season to get more interesting

fan *looks around* wow i'm so surprised... not like charles has a bad rep with women or anything

fan i hope y/ns ok... my heart is hurting for her ↳ fan the paddock adore her, charles has got a big storm coming next week

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liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 25 others

y/npriv my gran is doing so much better (nothing can keep the old girl down), my hometown is still as gorgeous as always and my sister got me a cake :)

kellypiquet my girl :((( i'm so happy your grans ok 🤍 ↳ y/npriv thank u kelly bear 🤍 ↳ kellypiquet did i have to physically hold max back from going after he who shall not be named?? yes... did i consider letting go?? very much so ↳ y/npriv 😭😭 hes not voldemort babe 😭 you should have just let him go ↳ kellypiquet now is that really how you feel? ↳ y/npriv ... no but i wish i did ↳ maxverstappen1 she has to go to sleep at some point, then i shall be free ↳ y/npriv thats so ominous you strange creature (i appreciate you)

carmenmmundt me and george have been keeping your gran in our prayers angel 🩷 ↳ y/npriv i love you carm 🩷 ↳ georgerussell63 and me? ↳ y/npriv i tolerate you :)

flavy.barla esteban nearly joined max ↳ y/npriv love him dearly but este's about as intimidating as a teddy bear ↳ estebanocon ?? hey??? ↳ y/npriv sorry king xo there's a reason your nicknames estie bestie ↳ estebanocon let it DIEEEEE ↳ y/npriv never 🫶

schecoperez I am glad your gran is ok, y/n. Let me or Carola know if you need anything x ↳ y/npriv thank you checo :( give the little ones and carola a big hug from me x ♥️ schecoperez

lilyzneimer he shall d word at my hands ↳ y/npriv i fuckin love you lily

lewishamilton he will never know peace next year. ↳ lewishamilton i am however happy to hear your gran is well x ↳ y/npriv lewis 😭 thank you x

francisca.c.gomes pierre has been shouting at Him on the phone for like an hour... ↳ y/npriv 😭 ... what are they saying ↳ francisca.c.gomes a lot of french and things i don't want delicate eyes (yuki) to read... ↳ y/npriv pierre i appreciate you ↳ pierregasly i'm gonna kill him ↳ y/npriv ok maybe tone it down frenchie

lilymhe alex is setting his zoo on him ↳ y/npriv that's how you know it's serious wow ↳ alex_albon tinky's gonna boot him in the head

sebastianvettel i am very glad to hear your gran is ok, y/n, sending her and you all my love x ↳ y/npriv thank you seb :( miss you x ↳ sebastianvettel come and see us soon! the kids miss you x ↳ y/npriv you got it! x

danielricciardo he's a cunt ↳ danielricciardo and i don't mean that in a nice aussie way ↳ y/npriv DANIEL ↳ oscarpiastri no he's right, in the nasty aussie way, he's a cunt ↳ y/npriv oscar i did not raise you to talk like this ↳ oscarpiastri we are literally like 4 years apart in age... ↳ y/npriv kicking a girl when she's down WOW oscar ↳ oscarpiastri ... i am sorry mother dearest ↳ y/npriv that's better

carlossainz55 hermosa, he may be il predestinato but to me he is carne morta (dead meat) ↳ y/npriv carlos 😭 ↳ carlossainz55 also i'm glad to know your gran is well, send her my love ↳ y/npriv she already fancies you enough as it is ↳ carlossainz55 my plan is working :) ↳ y/npriv what plan? are you seducing my family members??? hiding my mum as we speak ↳ carlossainz55 something like that ;)

yukitsunoda0511 happy to see your gran is ok! and i am sorry about the other thing :((((( ↳ y/npriv yuki my angel you have nothing to be sorry about

kevinmagnussen i know what i have to do ↳ y/npriv kevin NO you're like 2 points away from a race ban!! ↳ kevinmagnussen worth it :) ↳ y/npriv nicohulkenburg pls talk some sense into your teammate ↳ nicohulkenburg unfortunately y/n i too will be joining kevin in his "defense" ↳ y/npriv haas i am so sorry

landonorris i may have done a thing... ↳ y/npriv i am terrified... ↳ landonorris i'll text you :)

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📍Monaco

👤 landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes, kellypiquet, lilymhe, lilynzeimer, flavy.barla, carmenmmundt liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 87,902 others

y/nstagram angel baby, dumb and dumber and my girls 🩷

Comments on this post have been limited

carlossainz55 ... am i dumb or dumber ↳ y/nstagram do you really want to know? 🤨 ↳ carlossainz55 for my own sanity im saying i'm dumb ↳ landonorris why am i dumber????? ↳ carlossainz55 do you really want to know? 🤨

carmenmmundt don't forget about lunch today xx ↳ y/nstagram been looking forward to it since i boarded the plane 🫶

landonorris you're welcome for the lift and the room btw 🙄 ↳ y/nstagram my saviour xx ↳ landonorris and for stealing leo for you ↳ y/nstagram I NEVER ASKED YOU TO STEAL HIM???? 😭 ↳ landonorris well i did because i'm an amazing friend and am willing to sacrifice all my bloody furniture ↳ y/nstagram you leave the baby alone, he was probably stressed :(

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FEBRUARY

(estrellita - little star) (uy, quécarechimba - ugh, that dickhead)

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📍Shanghai

👤 carlossainz55, landonorris liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 89,028 others

y/nstagram did y'all think i would miss the first race week?? ft dumber and roomie x

fan mother has returned!!!!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan if looks could kill, carlos would be six feet under ... charles was FUMING ↳ fan given the way his girly hid when y/n appeared i would say he has no right to be mad at all ↳ fan if the girl i cheated on rocked up to my teammates garage whilst i was with my side piece i quite frankly would walk onto the track midrace ↳ fan how do we know charles cheated? they've not said anything ↳ fan exactly. if they had been broken up surely they would have put out some sort of announcement to clear things up ????

scuderiaferrari always good to see you in red, y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!!!!!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

carlossainz55 i hate this new nickname ↳ y/nstagram what else should i call you? ↳ carlossainz55 yours ↳ fan CARLOS I SAW THAT????????

landonorris i have been demoted from bestie to roomie... this is the thanks i get... ↳ y/nstagram thanks roomie xx btw bins go out on tuesday :)

lewishamilton now you're free of your ferrari obligations, you should come across to mercedes next time ;) ↳ mercedesamgf1 we would love to see you over here y/n! ↳ mclaren um no us next?? ↳ alpinef1team no us!!! ↳ redbullracing come to the winning team :) ↳ scuderiaferrari y/n will always be a ferrari girl, back OFF 🤺🤺🤺 ♥️ carlossainz55

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charles_leclerc added y/nstagram added to their story to their story

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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 20 others

y/npriv that bitchass man... idk how he thought he was gonna spin that story but not on my watch

oscarpiastri did you really have to use my meme though? ↳ y/npriv yes it was funny and otherwise i was gonna call him a cheating lying bastard on main so 🤷🏻‍♀️ ↳ oscarpiastri understandable, please continue

danielricciardo lando was laughing so hard i think he bust a rib ↳ landonorris it still hurts to breathe but holy shit y/n i love u ↳ y/npriv love u too stink :) also don't forget to pick up leo's food from the shops ↳ landonorris you do know you can text me this stuff? ↳ y/npriv yeah but reminding everyone we're roomies is funny to me

maxverstappen1 walked past ferrari hospitality and fred was PISSED ↳ y/npriv 👀👀 carlossainz55 can you confirm? ↳ carlossainz55 oh, absolutely... i was worried he was going to have a heart attack or something

francisca.c.gomes ok but did he not even think to talk to you first before posting that? it's literally been months ↳ y/npriv apparently not 🙃 texted him about it and suddenly he was sorry ↳ francisca.c.gomes men 🙄 ↳ pierregasly ???? ↳ francisca.c.gomes i stand by what i said ↳ y/npriv yeah is there a problem gasly? ↳ pierregasly no problem at all ma'am, as you were

scuderiaferrari we had no knowledge charles was going to post that. we love you y/n ↳ danielricciardo FERRARI? why are you on y/ns priv? ↳ y/npriv me and the social media intern are besties xx

carlossainz55 estrellita, lets go for dinner, you deserve it ↳ y/npriv 👀 are you paying? ↳ carlossainz55 of course, i am a gentleman ↳ y/npriv pick me up in an hour :)

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liked by fan, fan and 40,718 others

f1gossip Carlos Sainz and Y/N L/N were spotted at dinner last night. The two enjoyed a meal before taking a stroll along the Monaco pier front where, as pictured, the pair were in high spirits. We're happy to see Y/N looking so happy following the revelation that her ex-boyfriend, and Carlos' current F1 teammate, had cheated on her. The two were then joined by Y/N's current roommate and F1 driver, Lando Norris, who then whisked them off to a local nightclub. We continue to send Y/N our support and hope to see more of her happy side.

fan i don't think i've ever seen y/n laugh like that, we love to see it

fan this coupled with the photos of charles and his girly arguing in the paddock 🤭🤭 we know who won the breakup

fan why do i kinda think carlos and y/n would be cute together ↳ fan woah, she's only been broken up with charles for a few months and under really shitty circumstances, she needs time to heal ↳ fan ofc ofc!!! i just mean when she's over ch*rles, the two would make a really good couple

fan happy y/n and happy carlos, my two favourite things ❤️

fan y/ncarlos fans we rise!!! ↳ fan he would treat her so right ↳ fan the entire time she dated That Man, carlos has always been so nice to her, i wonder if he secretly fancied her all along 👀 ↳ fan or maybe he's just a good guy ↳ fan that too 🤷🏻‍♀️

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APRIL

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📍 Australia

liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 890,274 others

carlossainz55 swipe across to see me and oomf Another Carlando podium! We know what you guys wanna see and we love to deliver! The car drove like a dream today, shame we couldn't get more points but it's always nice to celebrate a great race with some champagne showers!

See 98,072 other comments

fan WHO TAUGHT CARLOS WHAT OOMF WAS??? ↳ fan either lando or y/n 100% 😭

fan CARLANDO PODIUM!!!!!!!!! WE DREAM OF DAYS LIKE THIS

y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE !!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎 congrats winner 🥳 ↳ carlossainz55 i think i was right when i said you would be my good luck charm 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan oh they're so sick for this ↳ fan y/ncarlos'ers we're so winning

charles_leclerc congrats ↳ fan ik for a fact he was forced to comment

landonorris carlando are back baby!! ↳ landonorris also cant believe im either oomf or roomie... ↳ y/nstagram stop leaving your smelly socks in the bathroom and maybe i'll change the nickname ↳ landonorris oh that was mean

fan "shame we couldn't get more points" carlos you shady shady man

fan who else cheered when kmag pulled through and took * out of the race

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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes and 21 others

y/npriv oh we eating good tonight

kellypiquet i'm sure we are 👀 ↳ y/npriv KELLY???

landonorris carlos is so sexy ↳ y/npriv real ↳ landonorris back off my man??? ↳ carlossainz55 i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this lando... ↳ landonorris WOOOOOOW.... i see how it is carlos

carlossainz55 gorgeous as always ↳ y/npriv you can't even see my face in that photo carlos 🤣 ↳ carlossainz55 don't need to see you to know you're gorgeous ↳ maxverstappen1 i hate to say it but that was smooth ↳ danielricciardo they don't call him the smooth operator for no reason

scuderiaferrari power (soon to be (fingers crossed)) couple ↳ carlossainz55 😉 ↳ y/npriv not from the main acc damn

francisca.c.gomes need you biblically ↳ y/npriv come here then babe xx ↳ flavy.barla lemme join ↳ y/npriv i got two hands babygirl ↳ oscarpiastri estebanocon pierregasly you gonna let her snatch both your girls? ↳ estebanocon unfortunately there was a clause when they agreed to date us and it was that y/n is wifey, we are simply the Others ↳ pierregasly ^^

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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 25 others

y/npriv decided to put him out of his misery :)

carlossainz55 and who is that sexy man? ↳ y/npriv idk but he keeps speaking spanish to me even though he knows i dont understand it 🙄 ↳ carlossainz55 but do you like it? 👀 ↳ y/npriv i think you know i do x

francisca.c.gomes AND YOU DIDNT UPDATE THE GROUPCHAT??????? ↳ lilymhe FR!!!! I LITERALLY SAID TELL US AFTER YOU KISS HIM ↳ y/npriv SHUT UP RN ↳ carlossainz55 no do go on ↳ lilymhe what happens in the y/n gf's gc, stays in the y/n gf's gc

carlossainz55 estás muy guapa, vuelve a la cama cariño ❤️ (you look so pretty, come back to bed sweetheart) ↳ maxverstappen1 we have the translate function on ig you horndog ↳ y/npriv don't be mad i snatched ur man ↳ maxverstappen1 ... he'll never forget the redbull days

landonorris RUE WHEN WAS THIS?????? ↳ y/npriv hiiiii lando... um so.... 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ ↳ landonorris GET BACK HERE U RAT EXPLAIN YOURSELF ↳ landonorris carlossainz55 WHAT ARE U DOING WITH MY ROOMIE ???? ↳ carlossainz55 i mean i could tell you but instagram does have guidelines ↳ landonorris ew ew ew that's so gross i dont even wanna know ↳ landonorris happy for you guys or whatever but ew never tell me anything remotely sexual about y/n or i will vom ↳ y/npriv lando wtf???? ↳ landonorris you're like my annoying sister i'd have to remove my skinsuit if carlos opens his fat mouth ↳ carlossainz55 hey? ↳ y/npriv you're so fuckin weird ily

danielricciardo HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES!!!! ↳ carlossainz55 you were right, they don't call me the smooth operator for no reason ↳ y/npriv you were literally giggling and kicking your feet after i kissed you ↳ carlossainz55 y/n :(((( my reputation :((((((

lilyzneimer wait do was taking the photos? ↳ y/npriv ... self timer ↳ lilyzneimer down horrifically bad wow

scuderiaferrari OH Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE WON!!!!! ↳ y/npriv admin 😭 not u too ↳ scuderiaferrari not even sorry i've been WAITING for this one!!!

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liked by francisca.c.gomes, fan and 30,892 others

f1gossip A surprise twist in the Charles and Y/N drama? Following Sainz's back to back victory in Australia and then Silverstone, Y/N and Carlos shared what looks like a loving kiss. Eagle eyed fans then spotted Charles on camera arguing with a Ferrari employee in the garages following the Y/NCarlos moment. Finally, Carlos was spotted outside where he was soon joined by Y/N, the two leaving the circuit hand in hand. It is noted Charles' new beau was nowhere to be seen.

fan Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE SO WON!!!! ♥️ 10,829 others

fan she upgraded wowow

fan charles throwing a hissy fit was so funny i was cackling watching it

fan kika in the likes... what do you know queen? ♥️ francisca.c.gomes

user not her being a homie hopper 🤢 ↳ carlossainz55 can't be a homie hopper if we're not homies :) ↳ fan CARLOS????? ↳ fan oh he ate them up ↳ fan carlos has not been fucking with ch*rles for a WHILE, even before all the drama

fan y/n's face... she looked so happy my heart is so full ❤️

fan queen y/n we trust your judgement

fan ik the entire grid is cheering rn

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📍 England

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 105,018 others

y/nstagram carlando podium again!!! anything else interesting happen at Silverstone? :)

fan the carlando bears 😭 her boyfriend(?) and bestie 😭 ↳ landonorris roomie* ↳ y/nstagram you love me shut up

fan she's so unbothered im giggling

francisca.c.gomes the last slide... ↳ y/nstagram don't worry baby, he was just dropping me off for our date x ↳ carlossainz55 all i am to you is a glorified taxi driver

landonorris couldn't even post a photo of me for my podium... see how it is ↳ y/nstagram don't want your ugly mug messing up my feed ↳ y/nstagram also grey bin needs to go out on tuesday ↳ landonorris you're on bin duty this week? ↳ y/nstagram actually i'm gonna be on a boat in spain soooo ↳ landonorris i hope y'all break up ↳ fan LANDO ? ↳ y/nstagram he's joking dw he did the whole "big brother" speech with carlos, was kinda funny knowing carlos would flatten him in 2 seconds flat ↳ landonorris oh now i really hope y'all break up

fan y/n please we know you have bf carlos pics... i only ask for one thing ↳ y/nstagram i'll post some soon x ↳ fan the most unserious soft/hard launch

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👤 carlossainz55 liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 98,017 others

y/nstagram my boyfriends so hot, do you guys mind if i chew on him a lil?

carlossainz55 please don't chew me??? ↳ y/nstagram it's internet sla- never mind, ok mr sainz

fan her captions are always so real i love her

fan unhinged y/n is back, we missed you best friend ♥️ y/nstagram

scuderiaferrari HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH LETS GO Y/NCARLOS'ERS!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i love u admin ❤️ ↳ scuderiaferrari our ferrari girl, forever ❤️

landonorris i hate this ↳ fan your ex and your roomie 😔 ↳ landonorris you get it 😔 ↳ carlossainz55 stop calling me your ex 🙄 ↳ landonorris you dare deny the love we shared?

francisca.c.gomes never mind him, can i chew on you a lil? ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ lilymhe ^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^ ↳ flavy.barla ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ y/nstagram everyone grab a limb x ↳ carlossainz55 please don't chew my girlfriend

fan thank you for the pic y/n! sorry for interrupting your holiday 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram don't be silly!! it was lovely to meet you <333 dont forget to send me the link to the dress!! ↳ fan on it!! ↳ fan omg how was it meeting them? ↳ fan they're honestly so sweet, they were just holding hands and walking around and carlos was yapping away and the way y/n was looking at him 🥺 they're endgame fr ↳ fan could actually cry?? ↳ fan also when they were on the beach, carlos twirled her around and they started dancing to the music playing from a nearby bar... it was actually like a movie scene 😭😭

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👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, scuderiaferrari and 505,287 others

carlossainz55 dicen que ver una estrella fugaz da buena suerte, y tenían razón, mi estrellita ❤️ (they say seeing a shooting star is good luck, and they were right, my little star)

See 198,017 other comments

francisca.c.gomes that first picture... i love my girlfriend ↳ carlossainz55 can't even have peace on my own hard launch ↳ francisca.c.gomes you snatched y/n from her girlfriends, you will never know peace.

fan he bagged a baddie wowow

fan the caption??? oh hes in LOVE ♥️ carlossainz55

y/nstagram 🥺 carlos..i'm so grateful to have you in my life ❤️ ↳ carlossainz55 i am the one who's grateful ❤️

scuderiaferrari heyyy y/n *with rizz* ↳ carlossainz55 even my own teams admin wow... ↳ scuderiaferrari not my fault your girlfriends hot

user homie hopper ↳ carlossainz55 eat glass :) ↳ y/nstagram CARLOS ↳ scuderiaferrari we love that you're happy but please carlos this is still your official account

lilymhe y/n i could treat you so much better ↳ carlossainz55 back off i've waited years for this ↳ y/nstagram YEARS??? ↳ carlossainz55... 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️ ↳ y/nstagram you're literally sat right next to me ... ↳ y/nstagram he just got up and ran away... ↳ fan this is so fucking funny sddjsdhdk ↳ landonorris danielricciardo what was that about him being a smooth operator? ↳ danielricciardo hes also fucking dumb

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a/n: hope everyone enjoys! i am working hard on part 2 of girlfriend of the enemy so we can have some happy charles <3 also 2-3 posts in one week who AM I? (i'm gonna be busy w work so i'm trying to give u guys some food in case i have to disappear)

#carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

Text

this is me reading btw if u wanted to know I LOVE UUUUUUUUUU I LOVE USER FELIXSBAKINGBUD I LOVE THEM 💓💘💗💘💗💘💗💘💗💗💘💗💘

Echoes of love

"to love someone is firstly to confess; i am prepared to be devastated by you."

Chapter ii. to remember

genre : memory loss trope. angst. slow burn. unrequited love except you were in a loving relationship and everything changes overnight.

pairing : minho x reader.

summary : if given the choice would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

cw : depiction of a nightmare and anxiety attack. allusion to mc having a bad family history with alcohol. suggestive in the end (allusion to sex but no smut). reader had she/her pronouns.

word count : 11k words.

song recs : the night we met/terrible love/black friday/cover me/already gone/enough.

chapter i. skz quotes series masterlist.

A.N: PT. 2 IS HERE!!!! i hope you'll enjoy this one, she's my baby and i put so much work and thought into her, so feedback is highly highly appreciated!!! thank you to my @forlix for being with me every step of this journey, i love u the most<33

Day 33.

With a gentle, absentminded sweep, your fingers trace the delicate contours of your wrist, a faint dance with the pulse beneath your skin– the cocoon of the soul you’re gradually growing accustomed to. It is a trying task, you've found out, to no longer yearn to flee from your body, leaving the weight of your worries for your bones and flesh alone to bear.

A subtle fragrance floats in the air surrounding you- the familiar gardenia and honey tones of your sweet perfume. It is a scent you reserve for special occasions, such as this one- your first date, in three months according to the world, in more than a year for your memory.

You swiftly retrieve a mirror from your pouch, checking your appearance for the tenth time in mere minutes. Your nude lipstick is still, unsurprisingly, in place, and you smile reassuringly at your reflection. She smiles back, though sometimes you half-expect her not to. In defiance, perhaps, maybe even repulse.

The melodious chime of the café's bell captures your attention, and the man you've been awaiting finally enters. He confidently strides in, clad in a blue polo and black slacks, an evident effort poured into his appearance.

Standing before you, his warm, gleaming eyes meet yours, effortlessly melting your lingering worries. You smile at him, he beams at you.

“Did I keep you waiting?” Changbin, your date, asks as he pulls the chair adjacent to you.

“No, just in time.”

Two weeks ago.

Day 17.

“Use me. Use me to remember,” Minho whispers, the distance between your lips resembling the thin edge of a blade.

You close your eyes, the world narrowing down to the sound of your heartbeat, a rhythmic drum drowning out any attempt at coherent thoughts. Kiss him, your heart chants, kiss him and all your memories will flood back. But what if they don't? What if the abyss persists before the brightest beam of light?

A tender kiss lands on your forehead, gently interrupting your tumultuous thoughts. Minho’s lips are as warm, as soft as you remember them. They're now imprinted into your skin, no longer a hazy memory beyond your reach.

His hands cradle your hair, smoothing it down, making the ringing in your ears soften. You surrender to his gentle embrace, to the soft tide of emotions rippling from him to you, pulling your wounded soul to safe shores.

“You need to forgive yourself,” he whispers, his words echoing against your skin, lips still pressed to your forehead. A rush of warmth overwhelms you, all your senses coming to life, ringing the alarm- he sees you, he sees through you.

“None of this is your fault,” he assures, a sudden cooling balm against your scorching wounds. These are the words you've been aching to hear. You didn't know, but Minho did, reading between the lines of your quivering lips and your reluctance to look into his eyes.

He knows you better than you know yourself.

“Don’t blame yourself, please.”

“But all I do is hurt people,” you confess, tears streaming down your face like a relentless downpour, soaking Minho's hands.

You expect punishment to strike you, bolting lighting aiming straight for your heart as you finally admit to your biggest sin- the shadow of sorrow that trails your every step. It is the way it has always been since you were a child. It is what you fled from.

What you don't expect is for tenderness to cradle you instead— in Minho's warm hand as he gently guides you to his chest, your ear resting above his steady heartbeat. Its rhythmic cadence akin to a lullaby- you shouldn't apologize for existing, you hear it sing to you.

“If you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. you’re forgiven, okay? I forgive you. Today and tomorrow. I'll forgive you until you'll forgive yourself.”

“Okay,” you nod, muffled words against the fabric of his shirt.

“Now, will you please come back with me? The cats will miss you a lot if you don’t,” he suggests, pressing his cheek onto the crown of your head.

“I don't want to leave them,” you reply in a small voice, dewdrops gathering in your eyes at the thought of running again.

“You don’t have to. It’s your home too.”

“Okay,” you sigh in acceptance, relief, encircling his waist with your arms. He is all inviting, like an open book, and you're resting between his pages, scribbled with love confessions for you.

The world stills, waves slowing their relentless crash against the shore, as you draw in a deep breath from the pits of your soul. You don't remember all you’ve once felt for Minho. But you know it must have been safe, like stumbling upon a haven and then learning it was specially carved for you.

“I miss you, Minho.”

“I know, I miss you too.”

Day 19.

“Minho, can you come to the kitchen please?” your voice reverberates through the house, weaving through the air and reaching the bedroom where Minho has been ensnared, his less-than-graceful complaints echoing loudly for the past hour. You had sealed him within without explanation, only making him promise not to leave the room until you told him to, much to his dismay, and deep down, amusement.

He chuckles lowly to himself as he rises from the bed, before making his way to the kitchen. There, he finds you near the doorway, hands concealed behind your back, dusty flour adorning your cheek like an artist’s absentminded paint stroke.

“So…,” you trail off and Minho smiles, crossing his arms before his chest.

“So?”

“A situation may have happened.”

“Which situation?” he inquires amusedly, attempting to peer past you into the kitchen. Your extended arms block his view.

“You know how I got a concussion from the car accident,” you ask.

“I do.”

“I think it may have affected my cooking abilities.”

“But you didn't have any to begin with?” he muses, tilting his head to the side innocently.

“Shut up,” you playfully admonish before clasping your hands in a silent plea. “Will you help me?”

“Mm, what are you making?” he inquires, leaning against the doorway.

“Pudding.”

“Pudding?”

“For you.”

“Oh.”

A blush creeps up Minho’s neck as he grapples to find a reply, his surprised gasp hanging into the air. You giggle faintly, entertained by his sudden speech impairment.

In response, Minho takes a step forward, delicately brushing away the flour on your cheek, his thumb hovering near the corner of your mouth. “How did this get here?”

“Huh?” you sputter, pink splashing across your cheeks like spilled Rosé.

Minho is testing your waters, dipping one toe in, hoping he’ll find your reassuring embrace lurking beneath the surface. Did you blush from the heat of the stove or his touch? Minho doesn’t know. Minho needs to find out.

“And you also forgot this,” he lightly pouts, reaching over your head to the hanger behind you, caging you between his arms.

He’s sacrificing his heart, placing it on the frontlines of hurt once again. Yet, when you look up at him, dewy eyes flickering to his lips, Minho feels a single match lighten up in his core, not enough to burn all his doubts. But enough to signal hope.

Hope is a perilous possession, akin to cradling a fragile glass that threatens to shatter at the slightest tremor. Hope is the only thread Minho can now hang onto.

“You forgot your apron,” he finally says, withdrawing two aprons from the hanger. He drapes one over your head before placing a hand on your shoulder, gently turning you around. He silently ties the strings into a ribbon, his fingers brushing against your spine. He can distinctly remember the feel of your bare skin beneath his fingertips, silky, smooth, intoxicating.

“There, a pretty knot,” he whispers, not moving back an inch, waiting for you to swivel around. Yet, you remain silent, undoing your hair from its loose ponytail. Your hair cascades over your shoulders, resembling the unveiling of curtains, and Minho senses something unfurling in the depths of his stomach.

��Tie it for me?” you whisper, handing him the hair tie without looking back. Your fingertips brush against each other, and Minho inhales deeply.

“Sure,” he says, voice thick with emotion, he needs to drink water. He needs to drink you in.

He gathers your hair strands in another low ponytail, trembling hands as they brush against the nape of your neck, akin to powerless leaves before the autumn breeze. He’s close, so close to you, so much his chest almost brushes against your back.

As soon as he’s done, Minho swiftly steps back before doing something he’ll surely regret, like placing a tender kiss on your shoulder, or worse, confessing that he misses the simple act of brushing your hair at night.

“So, pudding,” he clears his throat, rolling up the sleeves of his white hoodie. your eyes follow his movement, lingering on the veins protruding on his forearms. Minho feels a bit foolish for wanting to flex for you.

“It’s really easy actually. bring me two eggs?”

“Sure,” you grin, heading for the fridge as Minho retrieves sugar from the cupboard, throwing away the odd liquid mixture you managed to conjure.

You stand beside Minho, eyebrows furrowed as he explains why the milk needs to be brought to a boil before adding the cornstarch, or how adding the vanilla at the very end will help preserve its flavor. You listen intently, nodding along, and the tension between you dispels, leaving place for something comforting, familiar– you’re erasing the remnants of his sobs, the sight of him crumbling over the green kitchen tiles.

“Let's leave it to chill,” he finally says, closing the fridge’s door.

“Okay,” you nod, packing away the butter. Minho leans against the countertop, an ember of curiosity ablaze at the tip of his tongue

“Why did you want to make pudding?” he asks and you freeze in place.

“To see if I’m capable of not being a lost cause,” you respond playfully but the undertones of your voice indicate otherwise- laden, charged. One more match that you could light up?

“Really?” he says softly, taking one step toward you.

“No,” you giggle faintly and he nods, a gentle smile unfurling on his face, gradual as the eclipse of a moon.

“It was supposed to be your birthday gift. That's why I locked you in the room. I even bought little birthday hats for the cats, silly I know, and very late, but, turns out I’m a horrible-”

“I wanna see the birthday hats,” he cuts you off.

“Really? They’re really ugly.”

“It's my birthday gift, right?”

Five minutes later, you and Minho are seated on the floor, legs crisscrossed, three perplexed cats before you, and on their heads, obnoxiously neon green hats.

“They look so…” you tilt your head, assessing the view before you.

“Stupid?” Minho suggests, eliciting a startled snort from you that swiftly transforms into an almost maniac cackle, which in turn, catches Minho off guard. He gazes at you bewilderedly before succumbing to a fit of giggles, which intensifies your laughter, as you punctuate his shoulder with light hits, tears streaming down your face in an attempt to regain composure.

One hundred matches light up in Minho’s heart at the sight, all at once.

“My God, they look so stupid, I’m so sorry,” you laugh harder, your body collapsing to the ground, hands tightly clutching your stomach.

They can laugh again, the house sighs in relief, something other than sobs can still echo within my walls.

Day 22.

“I miss the sea,” you sigh softly, cradling a cup of chamomile tea between your hands. Minho, absorbed in his book, glances up to find a melancholic expression etched on your face—a poignant blend of sorrow and longing that he knows weighs heavy on your heart.

“We saw it over at the bridge, no?” he ventures tentatively, setting the book aside on the living room table.

“Yes, but I miss the sand, and the waves lapping at my feet. I miss feeling the sea, not just seeing it.”

“I’d take you, in a heartbeat,” he says assuredly, ready to bring you the moon if only you dare ask. “But it's far, and you can't get into a car.”

“I can try.”

“You can?” he questions, hope budding in his eyes.

“I mean- I want to, it's just… I don't know,” you retract, nails drumming anxiously against your cup, gaze lost into the amber liquid.

“Talk to me, yeah?” he smiles softly, draping a reassuring hand on your arm. His thumb swipes across the slate of your shoulder, and an impossible knot in your throat untangles.

“The accident took a lot from me. My health, my memories, a year of moving forward.” You quiet down, eyes meeting his in a barely veiled vulnerability. Silence speaks of your hardest loss— him.

“Can you help me get the sea back?”

Minho’s radiant smile is louder than any spoken agreement.

…

Thread by thread, drop by drop, your fears unravel as Minho lowers all the car windows’ before gently guiding you into the car seat, dispelling any prospect of feeling confined within the vehicle.

He remembers everything, even the panic that gripped your being when you went into his enclosed car, nearly a month ago.

“Can I blindfold you? It might help, so you wouldn't see the car lights since it’s night,” he suggests.

“Yeah, that'd be nice,” you agree, your hand lightly gripping the car seat.

“Hey, hey,” he calls out gently, “I'm here, okay? The second you feel overwhelmed I'm stopping this car.”

“Will you drive safely?”

“Of course. I promise you.”

Your nod is met with the softening of Minho's eyes, as he delicately tucks a strand of your hair behind the curve of your ear.

“I'm proud of you,” he whispers, tone laden with so much tenderness, love, that your throat becomes a garden, vocal cords bound not by thorns but the delicate blossoming of flowers.

With a gentle touch, Minho wraps a tie around your eyes, cocooning you in a tranquil darkness. His hand seeks yours instinctively, fingers intertwining with yours akin to the wind weaving through the strands of your hair.

In this moment, every fracture within you is delicately filled by Minho.

He starts driving, a soothing piano instrumental playing out of the car’s speakers- his hand still in yours. “Breathe,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing a soothing path across your palm.

“Follow my touch.” A gentle sweep to the right, an invitation to inhale slowly. “In,” his voice guides, and you draw in a deep breath.

Another caress to the left, a silent directive to release your confined breath. “Out,” he whispers, and you exhale, surrendering to the rhythm orchestrated by his thumb.

He raises the music’s volume, his touch becoming a maestro, speaking silently to you. You’re grateful for it, for the way in which he’s driving- avoiding curbs and speeding, safely, making the wheels float across the road.

Your heart still constricts in your chest, anxiety squeezing your veins, bleeding them dry, but you focus on Minho’s thumb, you let it guide you, like a compass navigating the dark tunnels of your heart.

“We're almost there,” he reassures as he stops by a red light.

“I look silly, right?” you reply, giggling a bit.

“What?” he asks, confused.

“I can feel you looking,” you clarify.

“How so?”

“My right cheek is tingling.”

Minho snorts incredulously. “What does that even mean?”

“You have a piercing stare. You're like melting through my skin and vibrating my bones.”

“Idiot,” he chuckles. My my my idiot, Minho grieves to say once again. The human heart is peculiar, he learns day after day, mourning the loss of a myriad of minuscule things, even words.

“And, you don't look silly,” he clears his throat minutes later, as he finally parks by the beach.

“You look pretty,” he utters, unraveling your blindfold, and you blink, caught between the sudden light and the weight of his words. “You always do,” he concludes, a whispered confession that lingers like the afterglow of a sunset, painting your world in golden hues.

“Minho, I…” you trail off, eyes landing on the vast sea ahead, blending into the sky in an alluring shade of turquoise. “We're here!” you shout bewildered, a magnificent grin on your face.

“We are,” Minho smiles, drinking in the delight in your expression.

“Oh my god I missed the sea!” you giggle as you undo your seatbelt, quickly opening the car’s door and taking off running.

Minho follows closely behind, captivated, as he watches you glide across the shore, the sand ricocheting off the soles of your shoes. You look like a fairy, bending the wind to your will, coaxing it into a choreography that mirrors the rhythm of your movements, your messy footprints marking your pathway to happiness once again.

Upon the sand, you finally settle down, and Minho walks over, sitting beside you. Both of you quietly gaze ahead, entranced by the moon's silver glow caressing the water’s surface. Each shimmering wave resembles glistening diamonds, a celestial mirror reflecting the lights in the sky.

“Have I ever told you why I love the sea?” you speak after a while, tone softer, more content.

“You did.”

“Can I tell you again?” you say. Can I tell you what I still remember? He understands.

“Of course.”

"There was a beach near our home, back then," you reminisce, a nostalgic aura enveloping your words. “And whenever I felt lonely I used to go there and watch the waves, to calm me down. But, one time, I was really overwhelmed so I ended up crying. And then, coincidentally, it started raining too.”

Your eyes widen slightly, a hint of amusement in your voice. “At that moment, I chuckled at the timing, how the sky was crying with me.”

“Ever since that day, I liked to believe that the sea is made up of the sky’s tears, the ones that fell in sync with those of humans, so it'd comfort us. And the tears grew from a pond to a river, to a vast ocean, as humans cried more and more. That's why sometimes the sea’s waters are gentle because those are tears of happiness falling somewhere. Sometimes they're stormy, since someone is crying out of anger. Sometimes they're melancholic, just relentlessly crashing against the shore, because someone is in pain. Like we are.”

A tranquil hush falls over the night as you quiet down, before turning around to meet Minho’s teary eyes, mirroring yours.

“And if the sea persists through tempests and tranquility, if it goes on despite the myriad of emotions it holds within, then so will we.”

Hope isn't fragile, as Minho once believed. Hope scrapes its bloody palms against the rough surface as it climbs defiantly to the pinnacle once again. Hope picks out rugged stones with weathered hands and builds a home out of them. Hope is strong, it clutches onto the thinnest threads so we’d endure and endure once more. As many times as we need to.

“Well, the sky isn't crying right now,” Minho notes.

“I know,” you smile softly, “Because we're holding on to hope.”

Day 26.

Under the soft glow of the TV, Dori settles comfortably on your shoulders, nuzzling her tiny nose onto your face every now and then. Soonie and Doongie are a bit far away, playing with a piece of yarn, captivated by its vibrant red threads.

It is an ordinary, comforting setting to watch a movie with Minho, on a Sunday night, a bowl of popcorn nestled on his lap while his cats lounge around. So familiar that the world around you blurs, like the vague brushes of an impressionist painting— a vivid déjà-vu sensation clinging to your body. You’ve lived this scene before. You want to live it again, now and in the future. More and more.

However something is different— your skin tingles, a buzzing sensation that travels from thigh to knee to hand, as if your body knows that something’s amiss. Minho’s touch perhaps, his palm casually resting upon your skin.

You don’t know where this urge is coming from— to lay your head on his shoulder, to have him run his fingers through your hair. Even more, to lose yourself in the nutmeg and peppermint notes of his cologne, to disintegrate your worries into his hold and rest.

“Would you mind if some of my friends came over?” Minho speaks up suddenly, cutting off your trailing train of thought.

“Hm?” you hum absentmindedly before clearing your throat. “I mean, no, I don't mind. Who are they?”

“Han and Chan. They’ve been asking about you for a while now.”

“Sure, this is your home.”

“It is yours too,” he says, gaze locking onto yours. His eyes are like a dark tapestry woven with threads of stardust- you’d never tire of looking into them, into the universe they seem to cradle within.

Do you know that there is a galaxy inside you? You almost slip out, words in an urgent race against your mind. You barely stop them at the tip of your tongue, before smiling and peeling your eyes away from his, painfully, like scratching a burn scab long before it heals.

…

“They’re here,” Minho announces as someone knocks on the door.

“Okay,” you smile, a tad nervous. You’re not even sure what for.

“If they annoy you too much tell me, I’ll kick them out,” he reassures, raising his brows playfully at you.

“That's mean,” you giggle, albeit soothed by his words.

“They already love you,” he grabs your wrist, his thumb gently swiping over your pulse. “No need to be worried.”

He drops it, as though a countdown is ingrained into his brain— never to touch you for more than ten seconds. Wouldn't it be selfish, pathetic even, to ask him for more?

As Minho heads to open the door, you linger in the living room, idly fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt. It is a weird circumstance to greet strangers who know you— you may have brushed against their shoulders in an alley and not known who they were.

Your thoughts dissolve as two men saunter into the living room, stopping in their tracks once their eyes land on you. They’re both beautiful– that is the first thing you note, closely followed by how relieved they seem to see you. Simultaneous soft sighs escape them, gentle smiles blooming across their faces. Tentatively, you return the gesture.

Minho takes the initiative to introduce them. “Yn. This is Chan,” he points to the man on the right, clad in black from head to toe, his smile grows wider, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents, two dimples peeking gleefully on his cheeks.

“And Han,” the younger man, sporting a Supreme t-shirt despite the cold, beams at you, highlighting his round cheeks, and an adam-apple that weirdly resembles a heart.

“I want to hug you but Minho put us on a strict no-touch notice because of your ribs,” Han speaks first, a small pout tugging at his lips as he glances at Minho, who simply rolls his eyes at his words.

“You can never keep something for yourself,” Minho sighs, rubbing the space between his eyebrows. You stifle an amused giggle.

“And she technically doesn’t remember us so it’d be weird for her to hug a stranger,” Chan notes, offering you an understanding smile.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it in a creepy way! more of ‘Oh my god I’m so happy you’re alive, thank you for still being here, I was so worried about you’.”

“But were you worried?” you ask, tilting your head to the side.

“Of course, I-”

“Then why weren’t you at my bedside?” you question, an eyebrow raised, and Minho chuckles at your words.

“W-what?” Han asks, glancing worriedly at the two men by his side.

“Why weren’t you there sobbing when I woke up? It doesn’t look like you were worried,” you muse, throwing a wink to Minho who walks over to you.

“Right, you should’ve sent her a pic of you crying,” Minho adds, as you drape a hand on his shoulder.

“A picture for every day you didn’t come see me,” you say solemnly as Han’s face grows paler by the second.

“I-I didn’t, I really was worried, I swear, I kept asking Minho every day about you and…” he trails off as giddy smiles break out on your face and Minho’s before you both burst out laughing.

“You guys are evil,” Han laments, as Chan pats his back in faux sympathy, a string of giggles falling from his full lips.

“I’m sorry. we made you dinner to make up for it,” you grin and Minho looks at you pointedly.

“He made you dinner,” you correct with a huff, and Minho smiles, satisfied, raising his brows smugly at his two friends.

“Let’s choose a movie then!” Han claps, turning to the TV as Minho sidles by his side.

“I’ll set up the table,” Chan announces.

“I’ll help you,” you offer, and he nods, clearly grateful for your assistance.

You’re taking out four plates from the cupboard, Chan effortlessly bringing out the glasses, clearly familiar with the nooks and crannies of your home, when he suddenly speaks.

“How are you, Yn?”

“Do you want the truth?” you ask back, and he grins. “Always.”

“I’m okay. Right now. I don’t know if I’ll still be tomorrow, you know? It all fluctuates so much.”

“Mm, I understand,” he says, and something about his tone indicates that he isn’t saying this just to comfort you. “And that’s okay too. What you went through wasn’t easy, but good times will come again. They always do, you know, just like the sun always comes back after the rain.”

“The sun,” you repeat, as you glance out at the living room, where Minho is laughing at something Han just said, his head tipped back, bunny teeth peeking out.

Perhaps the sun rays were by your side all along.

“Thank you, Chan,” you beam at him. “Truly, for being worried about me too.”

“It's nothing to thank us for. We care about you, even though you don’t remember us,” he pouts, a hand on his heart in mock offense.

“Hey, it’s not my fault I got amnesia!” you chuckle.

"Excuses!" he drawls with a playful tone as he exits the kitchen, and you can't help but laugh quietly to yourself. You recognize what he's doing—making light of your accident to alleviate the weight on your heart.

The night blurs in your memory, but this time it is tinged with happiness and laughter. The three men recall fun stories of their time together, a seven-year bond rooted in love and care, albeit silently. You witnessed it in the details—Chan ensuring the food was on their plates first, Minho peeling shrimp for Han, the latter rubbing Chan’s arms when he complained of being cold.

Then you saw it directed towards you– how they put on the movie you wanted and watched in anticipation as you took the first bite of food, draped the fuzziest blanket around you, and rushed to your side simultaneously when you stumbled on your feet.

You were loved, although you didn’t know of it. The accident took away your memories but it didn’t plague theirs.

“Thank you,” you beam at the two men as you walk them to the door. Opening your arms wide, you invite them in for a hug. Han embraces you first, a large smile on his face, and you gently beckon Chan in too. “Easy,” he whispers in Han's ears, careful not to put any pressure on your ribs. They both pat your back as you wrap an arm around their respective shoulders before leaning away.

“I’ll call you,” Minho bids them farewell, tipping his chin forward. They wave to him before finally leaving

You close the door, leaning against the auburn wood. Minho watches you, a soft smile playing on his face.

“Good?” he inquires, closing the distance between you.

“Mm, good,” you reply with a smile as he halts just an inch away. His intoxicating scent envelops you, permeating your bones and flowing through your veins like liquid warmth.

A torrent of memories floods your mind—images of you pressed against this same door. It is dark, a stark contrast from your first memory, a lone lunar beam of light slashing through the night. Minho’s hands grip your waist with a fevered urgency, while yours entwines around the nape of his neck, in passion, in hunger, almost as if you were deprived of him for so long.

You angle his mouth closer to yours, his lips pressing against your own repeatedly, a desperate attempt to brand the contours of his mouth into your soul. His hair, a cascade of midnight silk, tickles your fingers with an electric charge, like the crackling of the air before a storm. His tongue sweeps across your lower lip, seeking entrance, one you willingly surrender, white flag easily thrown to the ground. With every kiss, your bodies meld together, so much so that you could merge into the door, disappearing into the shadows as one.

“What's wrong?” Minho breaks your trance and you snap out of your reverie, a bright flush adorning your cheeks.

“N-nothing,” you stammer.

“You’re all red, do you have a fever?” he asks, coming closer, his hand pressed to your forehead. His woody scent envelops you once again– everything about him is enticing— his cologne, his lips on you, his fingertips dragging underneath your shirt, his eyes piercing yours, undressing you before his hands ever could.

“Yn?” he questions and you grab his jaw, angling his face away from you.

“Stay like this, don’t look at me for a moment.”

“What?”

“Just… please,” you say and he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief, and yet he complies, his side profile now facing you.

How does he live with these memories each time he looks at you?

You take in a deep breath, focusing on his silhouette. It might seem counterproductive to fixate on the same man consuming your thoughts, but how could you not when he was mere centimeters away, his eyes averted from yours?

You exhale softly as your gaze glides along the graceful curve of his neck, a solitary mole resting just beneath his sculpted jawline, leading the way to his plump lips, a cupid's bow delicately carved by the hands of the divine archer himself — crafted to be kissed, to be adored.

Your eyes trail up, tracing the high bridge of his nose, another mole perched at its pinnacle, sharp and smooth as if chiseled by a master sculptor, one who dedicated months to perfecting his artistry. His eyes are a mesmerizing brown, punctuated with long lashes that flutter like the delicate wings of an angel with each slow blink.

Minho sweeps aside strands of his hair, his fingertip delicately fluffing them upwards. It dawns on you, a sudden revelation of the necessity of art — to immortalize such beauty for generations to come.

You imagine admirers gazing upon Minho, sighing in sheer amazement, their hearts tightening with emotions that words struggle to encapsulate in the face of this epitome of beauty. Inside and out, you reflect, inside and out.

“You told them not to drink around me, right?” you ask softly.

A blush grows from the base of Minho's neck to the tip of his ears, like roots expanding into the soil. He sighs before finally looking at you.

“I did. How’d you figure it out?” he wonders.

“I asked Han if he wanted a drink, but he refused so categorically that I assumed he didn't like alcohol. But most of his stories were of him drunk,” you chuckle quietly, and Minho shrugs sheepishly.

“We get loud when we drink. You don’t like that,” he says simply as if it’s a given, an absolute certainty that he’d do anything but make you uncomfortable.

He's beautiful, the light of his heart basking his face in a glow that even Michaelangelo's skillful hands wouldn’t be able to replicate.

And he loves you.

Till when? Your heart sounds out in alarm. Till when will he love you? What if the grains of sand slip away from the hourglass before you can reciprocate his love? Two stars colliding at disparate speeds, never converging into a singular entity, destined to erupt and scatter into cosmic dust.

How long do you have left? How many more days will he love you for?

How many more days do you have to love him back?

Day 30.

Minho is sick.

He tried his best to conceal it from you, as he came back from his dance studio, strands of his hair clinging to his forehead, a thin sheen of perspiration above his right eyebrow. Yet, his uncharacteristic silence betrayed him, as he quietly retreated into the shower, emerging with a solemn expression on his face.

Seated on the bed, book long forgotten by your side, you bit your lip tentatively. “You're okay?” you inquired, perched on the edge, concern etched in your gaze.

“Mm, just tired,” Minho responded, his attempt at reassurance falling short as he laid down on the floor mattress. “Can you turn off the lights?” he softly requested. “Hurts my eyes.”

“Yeah, of course. Will you sleep now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay then. Good night, Minho,” you uttered gently, the veins in your heart tangled with worry. “Good night,” he whispered in return.

In the stillness of the night, you were roused by soft whimpers escaping Minho's lips. He writhed in apparent discomfort, his features contorted with an unseen anguish. His pupils moved furiously underneath the thin layer of his eyelids, betraying the tumultuous thoughts raging in his mind.

You've never seen Minho so disrupted in his sleep, mouth slightly hung agape as if he struggled to breathe in the depths of his dreams. Your worry for him came back to haunt you ten times fold.

You lean over the bed, gently shaking his shoulders. “Minho, wake up.”

“No... no-no, don't-don't go,” he whispers, caught in the vines of a restless dream, seemingly wrapping around his mind, trapping him in. “Minho, come on wake up,” your pleas grow more insistent, but so do his. “Don't go, s-stay,” he implores, voice broken, prompting you to abandon your bed and join him on his mattress.

“Minho!” you call out, shaking him until his eyes finally flutter open. He gasps for air— as if inhaling his first breath on this earth, shooting upright, wide-eyed and disoriented.

His gaze locks on yours and he instantly cradles your face in his sweaty hands, bringing you closer to him until your noses bump into one another. “You didn't go,” he whispers, and you shake your head. “I'm here.”

“Fuck,” he swears, releasing his hold on you and sinking back into the pillow.

“Minho, what's wrong?” you ask softly, afraid you're treading on stormy waters.

“I… I don't know. I don't feel good,” He admits, fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt, as if the fabric morphed into a vise around his throat. A flush creeps up his neck, red dots splashing across his ivory skin. A droplet of sweat traces a slow path down his temple, as the white fabric clings uncomfortably to his warm skin.

“Do you have a fever?”you ask, placing your hand on his forehead, sensing an unusual heat radiating beneath your touch. “Minho, where is your thermometer?”

“Bedside drawer,” he breathes out.

Fetching the thermometer, you gently tug at his chin, opening his mouth to check his temperature. “Stay still”" you instruct, watching anxiously as the numbers climb steadily.

“40°C, fuck Minho, you have a really high fever,” you exclaim as he shuts his eyes, an unmistakable weariness claiming him, rendering him malleable, akin to the silk pillow he's resting on.

“I feel dizzy,” he admits, burying his face into the covers.

“You need to take a cold shower now,” you urge a sudden lump materializes in your throat at the sight of his suffering.

“It's okay, I'll just sleep.”

“No, no, it's far from okay!” you almost exclaim, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes as if you were peeling an onion—your own emotional layers unraveling, exposing the depth of your concern for Minho.

“Minho, please, you have a really high fever,” you plead, feeling an unexpected surge of panic at his unwillingness to cooperate.

“Yn… are you worried about me?”

“I am.”

“It feels nice. Please be worried about me more,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, eliciting an incredulous laugh from you.

“You are so unbelievable, my god,” you pull him up and he doesn't resist, nearly stumbling on his feet.

“Okay?” you ask, running your hand through the nape of his neck.

“Mm,” he hums, burying his head in your shoulder. “Sleepy.”

“I know, you'll sleep after the shower,” you reassure softly, guiding him to the bathroom, his entire body weight leaning onto yours. There, you turn on the light, your right hand holding Minho's waist tightly as you lead him to settle atop the toilet.

“Can I take off your shirt?”

“Are you planning to undress me?” he smiles lazily, hooded eyes locked onto yours.

“No, I just-” you stammer, but he’s quick to cut you off.

“Because I don't mind.”

“I can't believe you're flirting with me while you're sick.”

“I always am, I can't help it,” he says, raising his hands as a silent signal for you to remove his shirt.

“You're awfully candid tonight,” you observe, seizing the edges of his shirt and drawing it over his head. His tongue glides across his lips, his gaze drawing tantalizingly slow over your form, and you clench his shirt tighter in your hands. He's the one with the fever, yet it's you who feels ablaze, flames of longing licking at your every sense.

“Come here,” you beckon, the icy water now flowing as you turn the knob. He reaches his hand out to you, and you grasp it, guiding him under the frigid cascade, soaking you both.

“C-cold,” he stutters, and you nod, your breath escaping in short, visible puffs.

“I-I know, just a little longer,” you reassure.

2 a.m. is a peculiar time to shower, the water droplets echoing against the tiled floor is the only sound that can be heard. That, and your labored breaths in tandem with the chilly embrace of the water filling your bones. The quiet makes way for other unspoken sentiments to surge forth, electric and palpable, heightened by the way Minho gazes at you through the liquid curtain, his hands clinging tightly to your arms for stability.

Droplets of water weave seamlessly through his hair, and an unexpected pang of jealousy grips you— you envy the liberty of those water beads as they thread through his locks, tracing the contours of his broad shoulders, nestling in the enticing recesses of his collarbones, without fearing the consequences of such acts. You don't dare look further down, wary that the rivulets on his skin may lead to your own undoing. Instead, you close your eyes thanking the stars that you weren’t wearing a white shirt, which would have turned translucent by now. You don’t even want to contemplate the consequences of such a premise.

After a few minutes, you turn off the water, stepping out of the shower and swiftly enveloping Minho in a towel.

“Go change, I have some spare clothes in here. Oh, and don't wear a top,” you instruct.

Minho chuckles quietly and you roll your eyes. “Shh. Make sure to dry your hair too.”

Taking your time in getting dressed, you peel off each wet layer, depositing them into the washing machine, before donning a spare pajama from a cabinet. You stroll to the kitchen to pour Minho a glass of water and retrieve medicine from the drawer, lingering at the counter long enough to ensure he'd be dressed by the time you return to the room.

You knock softly before opening the door, and the sight of Minho freezes you in your tracks. The room basks in warm, orange hues from the lamp's glow, playing upon Minho's skin and casting enticing shadows on the contours of his muscles—a masterpiece created by the skilled hands of light. His toned arms rest between his legs, back against the headboard, and an inexplicable urge to flee washes over you, your heart sinking to your knees in the face of his long-avoided vision of beauty.

You swallow the tumultuous thoughts raging within you before handing him his medicine, which he drinks diligently. Pressing your palm to his forehead, you're relieved to find a slight reduction in his temperature. “It will go down more once the medicine takes effect,” you assure.

“One of my students had a nasty cold. I think I got it from him,” he explains, and you nod, your hand lingering near his. Your fingers twitch as his pinky brushes against yours—akin to birds fluttering their wings in anticipation, awaiting, aching for a release from their cage, at last.

“I'm tired,” Minho sighs, closing his eyes. “Lay down,” you gently instruct, and he complies, resting his head on the pillow.

“It's cold,” he whines, swaying like a child throwing a bedtime tantrum. He's endearing, melting the frost that had gathered in your heart.

“You have a fever, silly,” you chuckle, pushing strands of his hair from his forehead, twirling them around. “Your hair's gotten longer,” you muse as you braid a tiny section of his bangs, only to undo it again.

“Can you play with my hair some more?” he requests softly.

“Of course,” you reply, threading your fingers through his locks, jet black as if all the stars in the sky collided, leaving behind nothing but a dark abyss.

“Please stay healthy, Min. Take care of yourself too.”

“But I like it more when you take care of me,” he pouts, before sighing shortly after. “I'll probably regret a lot of my words tomorrow, right?”

“Why is that?”

“Because you don’t feel the same for me,” he confesses, leaving you silent, grappling with the echoes of his words. What do you feel for Minho?

The question jolts the breath from your windpipe violently, an unyielding force crashing against your lungs till the answer finds its footing on your tongue.

“Can I ask you something?” you finally speak, cringing at the sound of your voice disrupting the fragile quiet.

“Anything.”

“Where did your scar come from?” you inquire, gesturing towards the mark just below his belly button.

“I got surgery a long time ago. I’m kind of self-conscious about it,” he confesses, a bit shyly.

“Really? But it’s beautiful, it looks like a strike of lightning,” you sincerely remark, coaxing a tender smile from Minho, unfolding like the gradual sunrises of autumn.

“This is exactly what you told me months ago.”

“Did I?”

“Mm, and then you traced it with your fingertips,” he grabs your hand, hovering it over his stomach. You can easily slip out of his grasp; you choose not to.

“Like this?” you murmur, tracing his scar gently, fingertips grazing his skin like a lit fire, subtly enough not to scorch. His flesh tenses beneath your caress, muscles constricting as you navigate from right to left—a trajectory of dusty stars akin to the Milky Way, his skin soft to the touch, rippling beneath you with thinly veiled goosebumps.

“Yes,” he breathes out, his gaze wide, running furiously over your face. Yet, your attention lingers on his skin, shadows dancing across its surface, its honeyed hue a shade you wish to sear behind your eyelids. Your hands ascend and descend, mapping his body which blushes in response, as if his very being memorized your touch, imprinting your fingerprints onto its memory. You slide down his forearms, pausing over his fragile veins, seemingly offering you his life.

Silence envelops you, punctuated only by the weighty exhales escaping you both, for there are feelings that words cannot encapsulate, no matter how much human languages strive to, ultimately succumbing to the profundity of silence— the one language only souls comprehend.

Your hands ascend to his neck, thumb grazing the tender skin cradling his pulse. It resonates throughout your bones, echoing from his being to yours as if you’re harboring two lives within you.

“You… you could've kissed me over at the bridge,” you whisper, bringing to light the question that’s been lingering at the back of your mind. “Why didn't you?”

“I wanted you to kiss me because you wanted to. Not because you longed for our past or our future. I wanted you to want me in the present,” Minho explains, vulnerability seeping into his words, like honey melting into a warm cup of tea.

“I’m scared,” you admit, your voice a fragile murmur, even as your head leans forward, hair cascading around Minho’s face, enclosing him in an intimate curtain. Minho gently grabs your hand and cradles it against his cheek, pressing a tender kiss to the center of your palm.

“Right now. Do you want me?” he asks simply, offering himself openly to you.

Do you want him?

After a momentary pause, you tentatively lean in, planting a gentle kiss upon his forehead. A resonant exhale escapes him, as your lips trace a path along his cheeks, leaving behind a trail of tiny kisses. Moving to the tender skin beneath his eyes— as easily bruised as your emotions—you bestow soft pecks to it as if seeking forgiveness for every tear he shed in your name.

His eyes remained closed, his trust evident in the surrender of his being to you. The answer to your internal query is written all over his features— the hushed exhale escaping his body, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the tranquility nestled between his eyebrows.

Yes. Yes, you do.

Your lips finally meet Minho’s in a delicate union, unmoving like rose petals folding onto one another. A surge of warmth emanates from the depths of your heart, coursing through your entire being like sunrays, submerging your soul in a tranquil white glow.

Leaning away ever so slightly, you press a tender kiss on his lower lip, enclosing it between your own. Your hand cradles his jaw, running gently through his damp strands. Your lips move against his slowly in a saccharine kiss, parting, only to meet again, in the same tenderness, perhaps a growing one as you become accustomed to the contours of his lips, to the languid moves of his mouth, following your rhythm. You were leading the dance, his lips mere puppets to your heart’s wishes. He didn't rush you, only allowed you to kiss him, whichever way you wanted.

A pause, a moment suspended in time, your hands trembling as they rest upon his cheeks, his palm hovering above your own, offering a comforting press. The gesture reassures you in your curiosity that won’t be satiated, urging you to seal your lips on his with a tentative fervor. The world outside dissolves into a distant murmur, the seconds blending into a timeless run, you slamming the door before your worries protesting at the entrance of your mind. Tomorrow, you’ll find the answers. Tonight, you are kissing Minho.

As you press a final, lingering kiss to his velvety mouth, visions of you at peace flood your being. You see yourself sinking into the warm pool of your aunt’s country club, you see yourself walking on the beach with sand molding to the contours of your feet, you see yourself laying on the grass while observing sunrays weaving through the trees. And then, amidst your most serene memories, the act of pressing your lips to Minho stands out, the warmth of his mouth against yours eclipsing all other sensations.

Leaning away, you rest your forehead on his shoulder, and Minho's hands cradle your hair.

"Which lip balm do you use,” you giggle against his bare skin, relishing in the sweet taste of his lips.

“Yours.”

Day 31.

Minho’s nose is buried in the crook of your neck, his arm draped across the expanse of your stomach. He sinks further into you, binding himself to your body, anchoring his hold on your being. You are warm, your skin is soft to the touch and Minho doesn’t want to wake up from this tender dream, akin to plummeting into a sea of silky pillows, falling into a blanket of clouds.

Except, he's awake, Minho realizes with a jolt. He blinks repeatedly, allowing the sunrays to stream to his eyes, his pupils dilating once they settle on you— so much their obsidian depths swallows the brown of his irises whole. You stir beneath his touch, making your cheek press upon the crown of his head. He's fully awake now, snatched from the velvet threads of his dreams made up of you, thrown into your arms once again after thirty-three days.

A soft gasp escapes Minho’s lips, the air stolen from his lungs as if it was yours to claim. Echoes of the night replay in his mind— a fever, you tending him to me, a cold cascade of water, you tracing his scar, and then, the kiss.

You kissed him. A long shiver runs down his spine at the memory, a subtle twitch that stirs you from slumber once again.

What does one kiss mean? The question dances wildly in Minho’s mind. More importantly, what do you want it to mean?

Minho whines softly, closing his eyes for a few seconds, relishing in the fragrance of your hair, in the serenity that floods his being each time he’s around you. This was his most restful slumber in weeks, because you were near, his mind recognizing you, relaxing underneath your touch, drifting to a mindless sleep.

Reluctantly, he untangles himself from you, a bittersweet departure from your arms. Work was calling his name.

He prayed you’d call his too soon.

….

You wake up to an empty bed, the only lingering trace of the night you spent being the tingling of your lips, as if aching to be kissed once again. You sigh, running a hand through your face. It was much easier to succumb to your heart’s wishes when it was late at night, when minho laid bare beneath your touch, so enticing in the gentlest of ways. When you were cradled by the moon’s soft glow, blanketed by the night’s cloak of darkness.

But it was light now, the sun was glaring as it streamed through the windows, exposing all the flawed ways of your mind.

What does one kiss mean?

Nothing, if it wasn’t minho who you had kissed. If it wasn’t as tender as the meeting of your lips.

The tomorrow you believed far quickly came, and you still beheld no answers. A few hours drifted by and you still knew nothing. What does this kiss mean? It's late afternoon and you’re strolling through the park nearby and you can't find an answer. The question rings in your mind as you sit by a bench, and you still don’t know.

“You seem preoccupied,” a voice quips up nearby and you startle. You hadn’t even noticed the man sitting by your side. His arms crossed before his chest, making impressive muscles constrict beneath the snug fabric of his black shirt, a cascade of fluffy black curls sat at the top of his head, a slight smirk etched on his lips.

“Pardon?”

“I said you seem preoccupied.”

“No i heard that,” you roll your eyes subtly, “do i know you?”

“No. You just look worried, that's all.”

“You really don’t know me?” you ask, a tad apprehensive, unsure if this was someone else your memory faulted you of.

“No? Are you a celebrity of some sorts?” he inquires, tone much more cheerful, angling his body towards you.

“No, i’m not,” you giggle, before quieting down, an exhausted sigh escaping your body. “Is it that obvious then?”

“Yeah. I’m afraid so,” he pouts sympathetically, tone almost desolate and you huff, burying your face in your hands.

“Do you need help with something?” he offers after a while, his concern evident in the frown of his brows. You are comforted by the anonymity of talking to a stranger, you were but a blank canvas to him. You wouldn't see him again, anyways.

“I feel lost. I can't seem to find the answers I'm looking for.”

“Maybe you’re just not asking the right questions.”

Oh.

The guy claps his hands suddenly, long before you could dwell on his words and their implications

“I actually have a question for you!”

“Ask away.”

“Do you want to go on a date with me?”

“No?” you chuckle, amusement dripping from your voice. “I don't know you?”

“That's the point of a date.”

“Are you this bored?” you smile, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I'm not bored. I just need to take my mind off things,” he shrugs, a slight smirk on his face. but you somehow see beyond it, right into the dull twinkle of his eyes. Maybe he also couldn’t find the answers he was looking for.

“So you're using me?” you fake outrage and he giggles, a high pitched sound that reverberates through the playground, making some kids nearby stare at you. You stifle a surprised laugh.

“I'm not using you if I tell you upfront why I asked you out.”

“You are right, but i decline your kind offer,” you say solemnly and he nods, shaking his head in defeat.

“Here is my card, in case you change your mind. Or need a little escape, call me,” he smiles, handing you a sleek black card before getting up and dusting his pants. “See you,” he says, as if he was sure you'd call him back. you stare in disbelief at his retreating figure, before glancing down at the card.

Mr. Seo Changbin, you read, CEO of Gold’s Gym— the largest gym branch in the country.

Oh wow.

The amused smile lingers on your lips as you gaze ahead, lost in thought, contemplating the words spoken by Changbin. Maybe he was right; perhaps you are afraid of asking the right questions. Sucking in a deep breath, you decide to take the longer route home, eventually finding yourself outside your favorite bakery; the one you discovered on one of your many walks with Minho.

You go to open its door when an unexpected tingling at the back of your neck freezes you in your tracks. Your heart tightens in your chest as you turn around slowly, greeted by the sharp eyes of two familiar faces—Lia and Mari, your coworkers from before your accident. A tentative smile graces your lips, but the alarms of warning in your mind intensify.

“Hey, yn!”

“Hey, guys,” you greet back, taking a step backwards from them.

“How have you been since… You know, your accident,” Lia pouts, but the question lacks sincerity, as if they were wearing masks before you, concealing their true intentions. You wonder which one they'll put on next.

“Good, i’ve been good,” you force a smile, as their eyes move up and down your body, judgment dripping from their gaze.

“We wanted to come see you but we didn’t know if you were still at your listed address. Since your boyfriend lives there.”

“Oh, um, yeah, I still live there.”

“But didn’t you forget about him?” Lia feigns ignorance and you feel anxiety picking at your skin like relentless protruding needles. You want to run.

“Lia that’s rude. I think he's her ex-boyfriend now," Mari chuckles, mockery palpable in her tone.

“Poor Minho, he must suffer a lot. Say hey to him from me,"Lia smiles, a chilling feline grin, her eyes narrowing down like a hawk peering at his prey.

“I will.”

“We’ll see you at work. If you’re still able to keep up with the tasks,” they leave, ugly laughs echoing after them, and an urge to throw up overtakes you, the scent of pastries furthering your nausea. You hasten your steps toward your building.

You’re almost safe, almost, keys trembling in your hand as you struggle to enter your apartment, when the door adjacent to you opens. Your neighbors smile at you, although it is a gesture tinged with pity. You painfully smile back before slamming the door.

Yeart hammering in your chest, you press your back against the door, hand clawing at your throat.

“Did you know she got into a car accident, and apparently she forgot her boyfriend?”

“Really? They were so cute though.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame.”

Their words suffocate you, stepping atop your lungs, syllables choking you from within. Is this what everything thought of you? Did they all pity you for the accident? For forgetting your lover? Did they see you as a burden, a parasite plaguing his life? Is this what Han and Chan saw when their eyes lingered on you? Is this what the librarian and florist whispered to each other each time you passed by?

You didn’t know these people and yet they had their minds set on you, fixated storylines you couldn’t change, no matter how much you tried to rewrite them.

Your thoughts spiral like the unloosened screws of a ticking clock. Minho, the unanswered questions, the expectations of others—everything converges in the base of your mind, making your ears ring cacophonically within your skull.

You slide down the door, fingers trembling as you take out your phone then Changbin’s card from your pocket. You dial his number with haste. You needed a breather, to talk to someone who knew nothing of you, of who you were, of who you could be.

“Hello?” his voice booms clearly through the phone.

“Changbin,” you breathe out. “Let's go on a date tomorrow.”

You were asleep when minho came back from work, your back turned towards him, soft exhales escaping your body. He didn't want to disturb you, so, he made sure to come earlier the next day, a strawberry and cream pastry in his hand that he knew you loved. Perhaps, you’d both talk about your kiss today, what it meant for you both.

But, he doesn’t find you home. The only indication that you had just left was the lingering scent of your perfume, tickling his nose as if to mock him. Poor minho— the gardenia and honey tones spelled out in the air; the one fragrance you strictly reserve for dates. The one you used to put for him.

It looked like you found your answer after all.

Day 33.

“Did I keep you waiting?”

“No, just in time,” you smile as Changbin pulls the chair in front of you, settling down with ease, a pang of confidence coloring his movements.

“How are you, today?”

“Better, i think,” you falter under his scrutinizing gaze, your facade cracking. “I don't know, it’s all complicated,” you sigh and he nods, signaling for the waiter to take your drinks order. Chai latte for you, hot chocolate for him.

“Spill, what’s preoccupying you?” he leans forward, arms crossed on the table.

“You don’t even know my name,” you giggle, looking around at the warm interior. Cozy, faint music playing in the background, taupe chairs and amber tables, the smell of cinnamon rolls wafting through the air. Minho would like it here.

“What's your name?”

“Yn.”

“Okay, Yn,” he emphasizes, a slight smirk on his face. “Spill.”

You shake your head as the waiter places down your drinks, wrapping your fingers around the heated cup, hoping the warmth would seep into your being through your palm lines.

“Did you want to become a therapist by any chance?” you muse, arching an eyebrow at him.

“No, it’s just fixing others' problems helps me forget my own,” he winks and you snort at his honesty. it was admirable, how frank he was to a complete stranger.

“Fine, it’s a long story, but basically…” you lick your lips, wondering what’s the best way to go on about this. “I got into a car accident and I lost my memory of the past year and so.”

Changbin winces at your words and you sigh. “Yeah. Except I was in a relationship before…”

“And you totally forgot about it?”

“I did. It hurt him a lot.”

Changbin nods in understanding, taking a sip of his drink. He places his chin on his palm, carefully eyeing you.

“But how does that make you feel?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. You're the one who lost your memories after all.”

“I feel guilty for forgetting such a relationship.”

“Why is that?”

“Because everyday i can see why I fell in love with him.”

“And you don't love him now?”

“No,” you quickly say before pausing, shoulders dropping under the weight of your questioning. “I don't know. It's complicated.”

Changbin absentmindedly tugs at the charms of his bracelet, gaze flicking down to his wrist for a couple seconds, before locking on yours intently.

“Describe him to me in one sentence.”

“You sound like my annoying French teacher,” you roll your eyes and he huffs, not offended in the least. “Look, I just want to know my competition.”

“Do you have a retort for everything?”

“What can I say? I'm witty and all that,” he shrugs confidently and you giggle before quieting down, muling over his question. “In a sentence…” you muse, fingers drumming along your cup. You don't even realize that a fond smile has unfolded on your lips, but Changbin does.

“He's the light rain that falls during spring, that makes the flower bloom and the smell of earth waft through the air. He brings things back to life, in a way.”

Changbin smiles softly, tilting his head to the side. “Can you really not see it, or are you hiding the truth because you're scared?”

“What do you mean?”

“Yn, he brought you back to life.”

“I… no.” you pause, voice faltering. “Did he?”

You see Minho pushing you on a wheelchair to your home. Minho protecting you from your mind. Minho washing your hair. Minho making you tea. Minho baring his soul to you. Minho helping you cook. Minho bringing the sea to you. Minho holding your hand. Minho comforting you before comforting himself. Minho forgiving you so you'd forgive yourself. Minho devastating himself so you'd piece your heart together. Minho, minho, minho.

“Fuck, he did,” you whisper in realization, as a grand feeling swells in your heart suddenly, pushing your heart against the confines of your ribs. Flowers bloom into your entire body, petals melding into the coursing blood in your veins, butterflies fluttering their delicate wings across your chest, an effulgent light flooding in like the sun was spilled inside your very core.

“Aren’t I so smart,” Changbin grins, satisfied at the awestruck expression on your face.

“What should I do?” you ask anxiously, gripping the edges of the table.

“Go talk to him. Don't waste any more time.”

“You are right, oh my god,” you grab your purse, standing up abruptly. “I have to go, I…”

“It's okay, don't worry about me, I'm always the side chick,” he sighs in faux sadness and you giggle, swatting his shoulder.

“Thank you so much. I'll repay you for this, I promise!” you start walking before stopping and turning around.

“Oh and Changbin?”

“Yes?”

“You know what to do too. They made you that bracelet right? You haven't taken your eyes off of it.”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, “those are my lines.”

“They are mine now too,” Laughter dances from your lips as you flee the café, taking off running to your home. It was near, merely a five-minute walk, nestled beside the playground where you encountered Changbin. Yet, urgency propels your steps, a fervent need to reach Minho swiftly. You had wasted thirty-three days, three million seconds that could’ve been spent with Minho. You don’t know how many more breaths the universe might extend, what if the stars tire of your reluctance and blow the winds of his love to another soul? You couldn’t stomach it.

You climb up the stairs, chest heaving, breaths escaping your being in an erratic rhythm. you didn't even know what to say, your words remained unscripted, unsure of what confessions will spill forth when your eyes will meet Minho's. Yet, you're not worried. You know that whatever surfaces would be surging from your heart.

What you don’t anticipate is for an uncharacteristic silence to find you at home, the scent of your perfume faintly wafting into the air. Minho sat in the living room, a bag by his side, his head downcast. The cats watching you from the corner of the room.

A desert- dry sensation clings to your mouth, your tongue heavy as if crafted from lead. Your once vibrant excitement extinguishes, much like a match blown out, leaving only a lingering stench behind.

“Minho?”

“Yn,” he responds, eyes actively avoiding yours. “I was waiting for you. I... I'll be gone for a few days, a week at most.”

“What? Where to?”

“I already told my parents to come pick up the cats so you don't have to worry about feeding them. The fridge is stacked, so you-” his voice falters, “so don't worry about that either.”

“Minho... what-what are you saying?”

“I need time away, alone. I'm sorry, I tried, I tried so hard, Yn, but there is only so much I can take,” he whispers, and your heart shatters, tiny million pieces blown away by the wind.

“Minho, look at me,” you crouch before him, your hands resting on his knees. He still avoids your gaze.

“Minho, please,” you plead, and his eyes finally lock on yours. They glisten with tears, reflecting light akin to a celestial mirror.

“My heart hurts so much, but it's not your fault. Loving me once doesn't mean you'll love me again, and it's okay if you want to see other people. I just... I need to go somewhere, for a little. I need to make room for the pain because it's overwhelming me,” he confesses, his words eating at your insides. Was it too late? Have you lost him?

Minho gently takes away your hands before standing up. Fear overwhelms you as you watch his shoulders drop, his eyes glazing over the walls one last time. He will come back, but not here, not to you. He's bidding goodbye to the home and you because you killed his hope. He would leave everything behind but echoes of him that you'd be sentenced to hear alone, every day, every night.

“Minho,” you seize his wrist, “Minho, don't go.”

"Why?" he asks in the smallest voice you've heard from him. He's like a river cut off by a dam, yearning to run back home, to flow the way it used to, back to you. His heart rings loudly in his ears, pain overwhelming him, yet your touch calms him down. You are the knife and the medicine, the scorch and the cooling balm; you are everything at once.

“I'll make room in your heart, I'll take out all the bad weeds and start again. Just don't go.”

“What do you mean?” He's breathless, hope inflating in his heart, clouds parting to reveal the sun.

“I know things won't go back to the way they used to. I don't think I'll ever remember everything, but I want you to tell me,” there is a lump growing in your throat, but you push it away. Your voice breaks and cracks, yet you still speak. You need him to know.

“I want you to take me to all the places we've visited and then tell me how we fell in love in them. I want you to show me how I loved you,” your hand trails down his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, pulling him closer. “I want to learn you, what you like, what you hate, what makes you angry and what makes your heart flutter.”

“And I want to love you, not because you love me, but because my heart chose you," your hand travels up his arm, settling right down at his cheek. Your thumb swipes across his tender skin. “I choose you over and over again. It's you, Minho, it's always been you.”

“You want me again?” he says tentatively, eyes wide, pouring onto yours—your galaxy to love, to admire, to peer into for the rest of your life.

“I want you. Please don't go.”

“Swear it, please.”

Instead of ephemeral words, you softly press your lips to his, as you did last night. “I swear,” you whisper against his mouth. “I'm falling in love with you,” you peck his lips, hand snaking up against his neck, moving his mouth closer to yours. “Not falling,” you say, pressing your forehead to his, nuzzling his nose against your own. “I'm coming back. I'm coming home.”

“You came back to me,” he whispers, voice hoarse.

“I'll always do,” you promise, a grin overtaking your mouth. “Can you kiss me, Minho?”

Minho blinks in amazement, his eyes darting all over your face, each blink resembling the capture of an image. He's stitching this moment into his mind, the hue of your cheeks and the gleam in your eyes. He missed the way you're looking at him, the slight shiver running through you as he brushes his lips against your own, slowly savoring the feel of you so near. His hands find your jaw, cradling it softly, and then he kisses you, just like how he dreamed of doing for the past month.

The kiss is dizzying, far different from your previous one. You’re no longer grasping at elusive cigarette smoke, fleeting through the gaps between your fingers. You are no longer awaiting a beacon of remembrance to shine upon your mind. You have minho, and he's delicately nibbling your lower lip, eliciting a soft gasp from you. His tongue glides across the tingling expanse, soothing down the pang of hurt, asking you for more. You willingly give it to him in a fervent, whirlwind kiss, his hands finding solace in the curve of your waist, while yours become poets, weaving tales in his hair, tugging at his strands the way you've always yearned to.

It is muscle memory, to press your body against his, to gasp into his mouth, to match the rhythm of his tongue, the way it circles tantalizingly around yours, the way you groan against his mouth, as he briefly parts from you, his giggle a sweet prelude to meeting your lips once again with increased fervor. His tongue weaves words against the roof of your mouth— I missed you, I want you, I love you.

Minho snakes his hand around your lower back, guiding you back until his legs find the couch. He eases you down, fingers hooked through the loop of your jeans. You kiss him again, a cadence as natural as breathing. Time unravels, rewinding to mend the fractures in his heart, erasing thirty-three days of heartbreak in mere seconds. You kiss him, again and again, thirty three days of longing exploding in your touch.

“Are you crying?” you whisper against his lips, your thumbs delicately swiping across his damp cheeks. Unaware of his flowing tears, he closes his eyes, embarrassment coursing through him. “I'm here,” you reassure, peppering his face with kisses – from his ear to his nose, cheeks to the corner of his mouth. “I'm here, honey. I want you.”

“Only me?” he questions, tone fragile.

“Only you,” you kiss him again, tenderly, inhaling life through his lips. “Let me show you how much, hm?”

Your lips trace a path down his neck as you draw his shirt over his head. An ivory canvas, he is meant for you to mark, to touch however you desire. Your lips graze the scar on his stomach, kissing it in the way you've ached to do since two nights before.

You're sinking to your knees before him and yet you’re the one in control, rippling shivers all over his skin. He’s impatient, needing you close, so he quickly pulls you up, before hovering over you, his hands drawing everywhere, running wild across your body. He missed the plush feel of your skin, the contours of your body that he yearned to explore once again. He's a prisoner deprived of the light for so long, sinking into the sun once again.

Minho's eyes never leave yours, as he touches you, moves in you in ways your soul seems to remember. He's gentle, removing strands of your hair out of your eyes, smoothing down the side of your head. All encompassing, drinking in your moans and groans, burning you up and soothing you all at once. “Good?” he asks, again and again, waiting to hear your affirmation before picking up speed again. Your answer is yes each time he asks, as he seals the void in you, the one he's been carefully stitching up for the past weeks. You store his glazed eyes and scrunched eyebrows in the gallery of your mind, you make room for new memories with Minho.

You're overwhelming him, in the most beautiful ways, contradicting feelings coursing through him like a rain flood. He's aching yet relieved to have you beneath him, lost in waves of pleasure so he grabs your hand to anchor himself, entwining his fingers with yours, before bringing it to his mouth, placing a tender smile on your palm. You beam at him, trust reflecting in your eyes as you bare your being to him. It is a rare fortune to be chosen by you not once, but twice, he can't believe how lucky he is to have you as his guiding star.

Your eyes never leave Minho’s, a shimmering pool mirroring your emotions. You see everything you feel in him—your better reflection. You had missed him, you were home now. “Miss you,” he whispers as he buries his face in your neck, seemingly hearing your thoughts. “Missed you so much,” he mumbles as your hands tangle in his hair, tears descending gently upon your cheeks, as they are on his. “Please don't leave me again.”

“I won't- I won't,” you promise, as light floods your vision, reaching the pinnacle of your pleasure. Colors burst before your eyes in a kaleidoscope, resembling shades of Minho— the warm brown of his eyes, the honeyed hue of his skin, the pink tint of his ears whenever he's embarrassed, the red of his lips, swollen as they kiss you. Tonight and tomorrow and every day after this one.

Day 1.

In the hushed aftermath, your head rests upon Minho’s bare chest, listening to the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat, calming down as the seconds trickle by. His arm curls around your body protectively, keeping you from slipping off the couch. Your knuckles trail up and down his shoulders, soothing the places where you had scratched too hard. His hand seeks yours, delivering a kiss as tender as the silence enveloping you—quiet and secure. The forgotten past doesn't matter; you will rewrite your story once more.

“Do you think our designated stars are sad somewhere far away?”

“Why would they be?”

“I don't know. Don't you think it's bittersweet how they missed out on so many days of loving one another?”

“I don't know, did they?” he muses, planting a tender kiss on your shoulder. “I think mine loved you all the same.”

#IM SO HAPPY YOU LIKE HOW I WRITE MINHO ;;;;;;;;;#he's the biggest softie he's like made up of soft clouds and warm tea that's MINHO #warmth and gentleness #THANK YOUUUU FOR LIKING THE BINNIE BIT #our yn needed a catalyst and changbin DELIVEREDDDD #stop u flatter me so much A POET??? 😭😭😭😭 I'LL CRY #EEEEEE DRUM ROLLS MY FAVORITE PART YK ME SO WELL #thank you for taking time out of ur day to do this btw u have no idea HOW MUCH IT MEANS TO ME SERIOUSLY I LOVE YOU #I LOVE THE BEACH SCENE TOOOO it basically wrote itself so it was very satisfying to read after;;;;;;#hope really is so strong like to hold on to hope means u are holding on to smtg so elusive yet It brings u sm comfort #i could talk about this for hours sometimes it is only hope that pushes us through #and hope is all minho had for him and yn he didn't realize that it's what kept him going and pushing through #THANK YOUUUU ANGEL ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️#(did the cover me reference for u btw ik u'd enjoy it)#EEEEE THANK UUUUUU THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED;;;;; FOR THE KISS TO FEEL LIKE IT WILL REVIVE YN #HE'S SO FLIRTY SOFTY I HATE HIM (affectionately)#ALSKDJDJJDJDJD how many oceans did we create with my fics.......#I LOVE YOU I KEEP SAYING IT BUT I DO MY HEART IS BURSTING AGAIN AS I READ THIS #HAD TO SPRINKLE A LITTLE ANGST IN THE END TEHEEE #OFC HE'LL STAY HE'S SO WHIPPED MINHO STAND UP!!!! (don't)#YESSSS U PICKED UP ON THE PARALLEL 😭😭😭😭#SHE DID CHOOSE HIM IN THE END EVERY KISS WAS BECAUSE SHE CHOSE HIM IN THE PRESENT— MY BABIES #U PICKED UM ON THE DAY RESTARTING TOO IM LIKE KISSING UR CHEEK RN SO HARD #U ARE SO SWEET TO ME AN ANGELLLL #i always put a lot of thought into the ending so to know it feels this way to YOU I'LL CRY UR FEEDBACK IS LIKE THE ENTIRE GALAXY TO ME #HEHEHEHEH IM SO HAPPY U LIKED THE STARS MENTION TOOOOO #he does have boba eyes that twinkle i love him so dearly #and i LOVE YOU THE MOST #your feedback literally makes every hour i spent on this fic so worth it #thank u for taking the time to do this i truly love you the most

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evilminji · 7 months ago

Text

Okay this is going to drive me INSANE. D:>

Dearly beloved, Phandom darlings...

Can DANNY EAT VIDEO GAME/TV FOOD?

I... I NEED to know. You don't UNDERSTAND!? Think about it. No, seriously. THINK about all those HIGHLY unrealistic, too good to be true, PERFECT looking meals. Animated shows n games etc where there are chefs who will "cook for Anybody!"

Now think about being 14 going 20. A teenager. A broke college student. Your fridge is empty and everything you touch? Comes back to LIFE. You're... you're just so hungry. Tired. Your bruises have bruises and you have a paper due tomorrow.

I kinda want to CRY.

Can only eat cup ramen so many times before you DO.

And this show? That commercial? Yonder cooking game?? Well... they did a REAL good job animating it. It looks so WARM. So FILLING and COMFORTING. You can practically SMELL it.

You look down at your sad, soggy, cheap but you can afford it, EZ Noodles and? Feel something BREAK inside. You... you KNOW you can travel inside technology. KNOW this. Have done it before. Why... why AREN'T you? You can't keep living like this.

You gotta TRY, right?

I? Wanna believe it TOTALLY works?? Because Ectoplasm is weird like that? And just shrugs? Says "actual food, the concept of food backed by electricity, what's the difference? Sure, we can fuck with this"? And so Danny? IMMEDIATELY fucking switches his diet.

Like? Dead stop screech, slam on the breaks, u-turn to take that last off-ramp. Type IMMEDIATE.

Grocery bill? No, no, you mistake him! No. NOW it's his "carefully researched for their cooking, games and shows" bill. Touch his collection and he'll FUCKING BITE.

They got sticky notes on the cases. Menus n lil fold out "grocery store" locations. He punched a dragon for this fruit. Mmmmm, home cooked meeeeeals~

Just? Weird Foodie Danny. Yes he DOES know what those steaks taste like. While YOU fuckers were staring at the cat girls bizangas, HE was eating granny cat lady's home made meatball stew! Ha! YOU FOOLS!

More then that? I want him to write reviews. Like "yeah, fight system was OKAY but- *5 hour glowing rant about the food, sounding like a food critic who'd actually fucking gone and loved it* " and people are like?? Who? Is this funky lil madman? This is hilarious?

I want it to be DPxDC JUST? So everyone slowly starts to play the game "Meta or Shtick?" Because no one REALLY knows who he is. This dude gets POPULAR though. For some reason can't be hacked (shame on you guys! Way to try and ruin the FUN!). And like? Eventually? Someone just fucking ASKS?

And Danny is like... " wouldn't YOU like to know, weatherboy?"

So everyone is like:

"Meta."

But hey... since they're already ASSUMING~? >:3c WHOOOOO wants to help him PAY RENT~? Let's VLOG this fucker! Wooooo! Say "hi" Catchef! *feline noises* like? It's like a let's play combined with a mukbang.

Teen Heros everywhere are FACINATED. Game developers are suddenly like? "If there's food. You BETTER make it look amazing. We want that weird YouTube twink to... whatever his powers are, our game! Free viral marketing!" Food channels? Rending their clothes, on their KNEES, please! PLEASE! Just ANSWER OUR EMAIL! Just ONE SHOW! A one off! Guest appearance!

We have MONEY!!!

All while Danny? Is finally happy with his life. Weird as hell. Harrasing the world. Good food on the regular. Gets to travel, kinda. Best of all? He's raising money from it! Can help people! Now... who wants salad?

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing #feeding phantom au

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noctiva · 8 days ago

Note

Toby with an intox kink so he gets reader all high and needy for him

DUDE I was literally just geeking about this exact concept bc one of my fave nsfw artists did this with her oc and OOOOH LORD! r u in my walls 🤨

I’ve said before tho that I won’t write noncon despite the circumstances soooo here’s my take on it <3

Dilation

Toby Rogers x F!Reader [NSFW!]

WC: 7.6k

Summary: You have a hobby of getting way too wasted around your far too loving boyfriend. So he gains a hobby of fucking you through it.

CW: 18+ content, explicit sexual content, dom/sub undertones, drugging, mildly dubious consent, like… reader is aware she’s being drugged but still, CNC I suppose, aphrodisiacs, coercion kind of, dead doveeeee, vaginal fingering, unsafe sex, wet and messy, drool and spit, creampie, hair pulling, begging + teasing, dirty talk, slight degradation, mocking, but also praise, dacryphilia, overstimulation, marking and biting, slight dummification, toby being mean hot

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the actions written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

“Open up, b-baby.”

On the edge of Toby’s bed, you sit. It’s a late Saturday night; the curtains are drawn, the lights are low, and the soft sound of some 2000s era rock song hums out from the speakers of your boyfriend’s old stereo set.

Your legs are bare, swinging off the side of the bed as you peer up at him eagerly. The bottom half of your body donned nothing but a pair of soft cotton panties. The top half, one of Toby’s old shirts. You had stolen it awhile ago, made it yours by snipping off the collar so that it would hang loosely off your shoulder.

It’s warm in his room, and so your skin is flushed a soft pink tone - making you just seem to glow in the eyes of the man who stood before you.

Toby, is fully clothed. Baggy jeans with a torn and frayed sweater. Hair pushed off of his forehead by those goofy orange goggles he loved so much. His facial expression, is the real eye-catcher though.

Dark eyes that spark with something dangerous, half-hidden behind lust-heavy drooping lids. His lips are curved into a smirk that is nothing short of devious. When he leans closer, it widens into a toothy grin, sharp canines glinting in the low light.

He reaches down with his left hand, rough calloused fingers rubbing against your cheeks when he squishes your face into a pucker. You don’t need to ask to know he wants you to part your lips.

It’s made pretty obvious, by the pretty pink pill pinched between the fingers of his right hand.

How again, did you find yourself in this situation?

It started off innocently. A few nights when you had one too many shots, which left you leaning against Toby like an anchor - skin hot and breathing laboured as you pressed your face to the crook of his neck. So woozy you could barely stand, vision swimming, your body heavy as you laid your whole weight onto him.

A few nights when you had gotten rowdier, taking substances you’d giggle off when Toby asked about them. Things that made you bubblier, made you sway on your feet and laugh at jokes that were barely even funny. Things that made your pupils blow wide.

Things that made you crave Toby’s body like he was the addictive substance.

Lucky for you, your boyfriend was nothing if not a gentleman.

He had told himself, time and time again, that he wouldn’t take advantage of you. Wouldn’t break the trust of the woman he loved so dearly. Even when you were smearing sloppy kisses up his neck as your fingers curled into the fabric of his clothes. Even when your hand wandered lower, tugging at his belt impatiently as soft little whines left your lips.

But, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t absolutely adore you like that.

All strung out and hazy, eyes unfocused with pupils dilated - staring up at him like he was a god amongst men. Your slurred speech, lips glistening with drool and bitten raw. You were a vision, an absolute vision, and you were all his. Barely even conscious, and yet he was the one you always gravitated to. Never straying, only getting needier and needier the more he denied your inebriated advances.

Your lips would wrinkle into a pout, eyes shining with unshed tears as you pawed at his clothes. Hands clumsy and movements uncoordinated. He’d hold you upright on his lap, trying to feed some water into your parched mouth, and you’d ignore him. Much more inclined to desperately grind against his clothed crotch - soaked panties staining the front of his jeans with your slick.

You were so lovely like that. And so sensitive too. He barely had to even touch you to get a reaction. Brushing a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face elicited a whine, and gently gripping your waist to keep you upright had you arching into his touch.

It was like you went into heat. A scalding hot ball of desperation and desire, pressing up to him as close as you could get - like if you tried hard enough, you could phase through his clothes.

Was it so insane, that he found it incredibly provocative?

You turned into this lust-drunk little doll, with a one-track mind seemingly only focused on getting his dick out of his pants. You’d nip and bite at his skin, whine and plead to the point where tears would spring to your eyes - desperate to get off, because the heat between your legs was too much to bear. And, in your mind, he was the only cure.

Good. That’s what he should be.

It had quickly become harder and harder to bear each time it happened, his composure weakening and his desires mounting.

“T-Toby…” You had whined low in his ear one night, heat radiating off of you as you lazily rolled your hips against his lap. “I need it. You know I need it.”

“Oh, b-believe me. I know baby.” He had chuckled softly, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your hipbones as you rocked against him. You were dressed so pretty too, for the little social gathering the two of you were sat in the corner of. A low cut little tank top and a flowy skirt, so soft to the touch.

“Then why won’t ya’ give it to me?” Your words were slurred and soft, lips brushing against the shell of his ear as you spoke. “I can feel it, you know. You’re so hard, I know you want it too.”

Of course you could. A man can only be so strong after all, so how else was he supposed to react with his scantily clad girlfriend desperately grinding against his lap? You were so warm too, your heat seeping into his skin, making his pulse skyrocket. He knew, that you’d let him do anything in the world to you right then, but he just couldn’t.

He couldn’t. He was better than that. “Just… Just let me sit on it. You don’t even gotta do anything.” Oh for fuck’s sake. “No one would notice.”

They sure as hell would. Because Toby knew, that the moment he sunk into your glorious pussy - which he knew was soaking wet and eager to take him - he wouldn’t be content with just letting you warm his cock. He’d want to fuck you proper, bounce your limp, drugged out body on his lap until you were cumming so hard it brought you to tears. Fuck you through it while he sucked on your pretty tits, seeing just how much you could take.

He would bet it was a lot. You’d probably just take it and take it, clinging to him as he clawed at your skin. Sinking into you over and over again, stretching you out around him - too dazed to tell him if it was too much.

He doubted anything would be too much for you in this state though.

But he couldn’t. Not without a heavy conscience.

“Not t-tonight, my love.” He had hummed back to you, deliberately ignoring how his cock throbbed with each roll of your hips. “I th-think you just need some wa-water.”

However, as he had said, he was only so strong. So naturally, it didn’t take him long to bring it up in conversation with you when you were sober.

“You ever n-notice how slutty you get when you’re o-off a pill?” It was such a scandalous question to be asked over breakfast, words partially muffled by the slice of toast he was shovelling into his mouth, and yet he couldn’t think of a more eloquent way to put it.

Besides, the look you had given him - completely taken aback, and maybe a little offended - was pretty funny, so he didn’t regret his choice of words one bit.

“The fuck did you just say to me?” You had snapped back at him, eyes narrowed as you pressed your elbows against the tabletop and leaned towards him.

“You h-heard me.” He snorted back to you, his expression delightfully amused with a playful eyebrow raised. Your defiant attitude was nothing but cute in his opinion. “You’re barely high ff-for an hour before you’re tryin’ to j-jump my bones.” He watched how your expression filed through a myriad of different emotions - shock, shame, embarrassment - as he took a sip of coffee. “Grinding on m-my dick like we’re the only two p-people in the room. You make such a ss-scene.”

“I…” You leaned back in your seat, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. But not as vibrant as they were when you were melting into him. “I do remember that.”

“And?” He laughed softly. “G-Got anything to say about it?”

You were silent for a few moments, nibbling your bottom lip between your teeth as your foot tapped impatiently against the wooden floor of his cabin. So flustered, he worried for a moment if he had taken things a step too far, but then you were muttering out;

“Why haven’t you ever indulged me?”

That, was how you ended up here. In Toby’s bedroom, your tongue sticking out of your mouth as your loving boyfriend placed a pill upon it.

Immediately, it started to dissolve when it met your saliva - a sight that Toby watched with a keen interest, the twisted grin never leaving his face as he took in the way it tinted your spit pink. “Y-You need water?” He asked softly, to which you shook your head before closing your mouth. “Good girl, then ss-swallow.”

You do, easily, without hesitation. Letting the drug slide down your throat as you locked eyes with the man above you. You’d think Toby was the one under the influence, with the way his pupils had blown out completely. Eyes fixated on you like you were the focal point of his entire universe, because right now - that’s exactly what you were. “That’s my g-girl.” He murmured, words dripping with nothing but adoration. “Now, we wait.” He pinched your cheek gently. “You w-wanna get comfy?”

Immediately, you’re nodding, your pulse already thumping rapidly in your chest. The effects of the drug hadn’t even started to take effect yet, but it was the anticipation that was making you antsy. Knowing that it was coming, slowly dissolving in your stomach and getting ready to circulate through your veins.

Toby gives you a sickeningly sweet smile before he’s joining you on the bed. He wraps his arms around you, gently tugging you down as he settles against the pillows placed against the headboard. You lounge against his chest, arms rested around his neck as you snuggle against him.

Your t-shirt rides high as you get comfortable, exposing the curve of your plush ass barely covered by those thin little panties. And… It’s tempting. So tempting that Toby’s fingers twitch where they’re resting on the small of your back, but he holds himself back. He can be patient. It’ll all be worth it if he just waits until the good part. “G-Gave you somethin’ Cody cooked up this t-time around.” He hums as he rubs gentle circles against your back. “He said it’ll make you f-feel real nice.”

“Yeah?” You ask softly, resting your cheek against his shoulder as you peer up at him. “He better have tested it first. I’m not trying to be one of his lab rats.”

Toby lets out a chuckle, a sound that rumbles deep in his chest - and you can feel the vibrations against your rib cage.

“‘Course he d-did.” He assured you softly, before leaning down to press a soft kiss against the crown of your head. “You really think I-I’d ever put you in danger?”

You knew he wouldn’t. There was a reason you were so inclined to get all sloppy and dazed around him. Because he kept you safe. He always kept you safe.

“No.” You murmur back to him as you relax into him more. You can feel your muscles starting to go lax, any lingering aches and pains from the stressors of the day melting away easily. It must be starting to kick in. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck, and let out a shaky sigh. “You’d never.”

“T-That’s right.” Toby breathes back to you. He can feel it as you start to melt into him, your heart thumping so rapidly in your chest that he can feel it against his own. “I-I’d kill him myself if he gave me s-somethin’ that might hurt you. He knows that t-too.”

Your eyes flutter as you press against him further. He’s so warm. So warm and he smells so good, it makes you feel dizzy every time you take a breath in. You lean up, rubbing your nose behind his ear and into his hair - drinking in the scent that had your whole body starting to heat up. He smelled like smoke and pine. Copper and tobacco. Each smell swirling together to create something that had you moaning softly as you inhaled it - your hand coming up to cup the back of his head.

There it is. Toby thinks to himself, his lips curling up into a smile as you start rubbing up onto him - your fingers shaky as they thread into his hair. “Y-You’re feeling it now, aren’t you, b-baby?” He asks lowly, squeezing your hip lightly with one hand as the other one moves upwards. “C’mon, l-look at me. Let me see that puh-pretty face.”

His other hand grasps your chin, gently tilting it upwards so that he can get a good look at you. And once he does, you leave him breathless.

Your pupils are practically swallowing your irises - like two black holes staring back at him as he looked down at you in awe. The flush you had been painted with had grown darker, a deep pink hue coating your cheeks and spreading down to your neck. You were practically panting, breathing laboured breaths through your mouth that quivered on exhale. “Ah, l-look at you.”

Toby’s hand slides up your jaw before he’s cupping your face tenderly, a look of absolute adoration in his eyes as he gazes at the spaced out look taking over your eyes. “Hah-“ He breathes out, before his hand drifts higher, using two fingers to open your eye wider. “Y-Your pupils are so big…”

When your response is nothing but a pitiful little whine, his heart rate kicks up a notch. “Oh, wow.” He murmurs. “Th-This is really the good ss-stuff, huh?” His hand trails back down your face, and you lean into his touch almost mindlessly. “How’re you feelin’, puh-pretty girl?”

“Dizzy.” You slur softly, your vision starting to swim as you try and focus on the sight of Toby’s face. Also, when did it get so hot in here? With barely any clothing on, you were still burning up - sweat starting to moisten your skin as your breathing grew ragged. “I… I feel dizzy.”

“D-Dizzy, good?” Toby asks, and then the hand on your waist starts to wander, slipping further down to graze against the curve of your ass. “Or dizzy, b-bad?” His palm splays against one cheek, and god now he feels so cool in comparison to you. You feel like you’re slowly being set on fire, and Toby’s touch - it feels like ice against your clammy skin. It’s so soothing, so good, you can’t help but arch into him.

“Dizzy… Good.” You mumble, before you’re nudging your face out of his grip. Back into the crook of your neck, you move, then parting your lips to drag your tongue against the skin there. And oh, he tastes like heaven. So much so that you let out a shaky moan that vibrates against his neck, before your hands are clawing upwards so that you can get push yourself even closer. “You… You taste good.” Your words are slurred and partially muffled, but they ring in his ears. “So good.”

“Yeah?” Toby lets out an amused little chuckle as his fingers sink into the cushy soft flesh they had been spread against - giving your ass a soft squeeze that only proves to rile you up further. “H-How good?”

“Really-“ Your fingers curl into his hair and tug, drawing him closer as your lips move against his neck - so sloppy, smearing spit against him with every touch. “Really fuckin’ good. God-“ The best way to describe it would be to say that you felt like you were drowning, or maybe… you were set on fire. Both? It was hard to even accurately determine what the hell you were feeling right then, all you knew was that every single sense of yours seemed to be working on overdrive.

Your skin was buzzing, tingling with desire every time it touched his. You could hear every little sound he made, from the rhythmic thump of his heart beat to the shaky little huffs of breath leaving his lips. The taste of his skin was somehow the sweetest thing that had ever graced your tongue. He smelled like his natural scent had been created just to make your head spin. And the way he looked right now was a whole different story.

You force yourself to pull your head out of the crook of his neck so that you can look at him, and your breathing just grows shakier. Practically panting as you stare down at him, this marvel of a man - his hair splayed against the pillows behind his head, the goggles nestled within them falling onto his forehead slowly. Everything about him just seemed so much more vibrant, more enticing. From the way he licked his dry lips and left them glistening, to how his eyes were roaming the sight of you appreciatively.

He looked like he could just devour you. And you wanted that. You wanted that bad. “Toby…” You whine softly, leaning in closer as your hands fist into the front of his hoodie. It’s hard to think proper, even harder to form words - and so you’re left pitifully clawing at his clothes whilst pressing your forehead to his. Breathing hot and heavy against his face, your eyes clouded over as you gaze down at him.

He raises an eyebrow at you playfully, and he’s not getting the hint as quickly as you need him to. Maybe that’s on purpose. Regardless, his nonchalant attitude quickly twists you into a knot. You tug at the collar of his sweater impatiently, your hands clumsy as you let out a soft disgruntled mewl. You need this stupid fabric off now. Needed more of his skin on yours. Needed him to cool you down before you burst into flames.

With how your vision was already swimming, you don’t even notice when frustrated tears begin building up in your eyes - but Toby does instantly.

“H-Hey, shh…” He hushes you softly the moment those sweet tears start to build, bringing his hand up to gently cup your cheek. You lean into it immediately, eagerly drinking up the feeling of his skin against yours. It’s so soft, so grounding. Everything that you need right now. “There’s no n-need to start cryin’ a-already. Just gotta t-tell me what you need.”

He knew what you needed. It was pretty damn obvious. But, he wanted to hear you say it. And besides, the way you were slurring and stumbling over your words right now was downright adorable. It was like you were melting in his hands.

You take in a few gasping breaths, trying to steady your breathing but doing so in vain, before you part your lips. Normally, when you’re under the influence your mouth is dryer than a desert, but whatever the hell Cody gave you had the exact opposite effect. You can feel drool pooling in your mouth, and when you try to speak some of it comes dripping out - hitting the front of Toby’s sweater and staining it.

A sight that immediately had Toby’s cock jumping. He made a mental note to give that lab freak a sincere ‘thank you’ after all of this was over. You slurp up the excess saliva threatening to spill over again and swallow it down, before you’re finally managing out a few shaky words.

“I need this off.” You breathe as you tug at his sweater again to further enunciate your point. “Pants too.” You add, all shyness lost of you as you struggle to keep a clear head. “Need you naked.”

Toby cracks a grin, his eyes crinkling up at the corners. You were so fucking cute like this. Your usual filter completely gone, not caring how desperate you sounded if it meant you would get him inside you sooner. His thumb hooks into your mouth, then it’s stretching your lips as he tugs your cheek to the side to expose your teeth. Immediately, drool starts dripping down his thumb before sliding down his wrist and dirtying the sleeve of his sweater.

“S-Such a mess.” He murmurs softly, his words completely awestruck. You’re just bending to his will so easily, letting him push and pull you into whatever he saw fit. It seemed like just the feeling of his skin alone was just taking you higher, if the way you melted into his touch was anything to go by. “You want me t-to fuck you that b-bad?”

“Yes-“ You immediately gasp out. And just the idea of that being a possibility has the heat you’re coated in spiking to a suffocating degree. It’s searing across your skin, travelling down and settling deep in your gut. Down further, it makes your cunt throb, already dampening the material of your panties and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please.”

And Toby knows it. He can tell by the way you’ve started pathetically rutting against him, your hips chasing any sort of stimulation to placate you. His poor girl was burning up. He’d bet you were just dying for it.

“Yeah?” He whispers, his voice low and gravelly - the sound seemingly fine tuned to resonate deep in the pit of your stomach. “Sh-Should I find out if you’re r-ready for it?”

He brings his free arm down to wedge between your two bodies, making sure to drag his hand across your abdomen the whole way down. You arch into it, gasping at the slightest touch, but it’s when his fingers meet the fabric of your underwear that you completely jolt. Your hips immediately kick forwards, trying to speed up the process of getting him where you need him most. “You’re ss-so impatient.” Toby chuckles darkly. “Is it r-really that bad?”

It’s only seconds later that he answers his own question. He wastes no time slipping his hand below the waist line of your panties, fingers dipping into your folds. When he does, even he can’t help but gasp. You’re absolutely soaked. Dripping with slick that coats his fingers upon contact.

Toby can feel you throb under his touch, your clit already so swollen and desperate - so hot, he can feel the heat completely radiating off of you. “Oh, it is.” He murmurs out, his voice growing hoarser by the minute. He rubs you gently, not dipping inside you yet, just spreading around all the slick that was leaking out of you. He catches your clit between two fingers and pinches it lightly, an action that had you completely crumpling.

You choke out the most delicious noise Toby’s ever heard you produce, wetting his hoodie with saliva as you press your head against his chest with a mouth hung agape. “Oh, p-poor baby.” He coos gently, unable to help the sly grin on his face as he starts working you over with slow gentle circles of his fingers. It’s not enough pressure to satisfy you, he knows that, but the way you squirm and cry to try and get more is just so lovely. “Why d-don’t you tell me how bad you n-need it?”

It’s a cruel ask right now. You’re gasping out mindless babble against his chest, fingers curling into his sweater so tight he’s convinced you might just rip it. Your eyes are so far away and foggy, it doesn’t look like you have a single thought bouncing around in the pretty little head of yours.

Just from his fingers too. Just from his fingers playing with your clit. He hadn’t even sunk them into you yet.

God, you were a dream.

“T-Toby-“ You slur out, eyes drooping as you roll your hips back to meet his movements - grinding against his fingers to add the pressure he was refusing to give you. “I need it. I can’t-“ The heat was starting to mount, the knot in your stomach tying so tight it made your thighs quiver. “Anything. Just give me anything. Please.”

“Anything?” Toby raises an eyebrow. He can feel the way you’re starting to shake, brows pinching together as your little moans grow higher in pitch. Already so close. Just one of many for the night. “So, I c-can just fuck you with my fingers then? Th-That would satisfy you?”

“No.” You cry, your voice so desperate and whiny it made his chest tighten. His pants were even tighter though, a fact that he had been choosing to ignore up until now just to give you his undivided attention. If he was being honest, he could probably cum just from watching you. Watching how you melted into a delicious puddle of drool and tears.

“You said a-anything.” He laughs softly, absolutely enamoured with your pitiful state. He could keep you like this forever. Keep you teetering on the edge as you begged for him with tears clinging to your lashes.

“Mean.” You whine softly. You’re still rutting against him, soaking his hand with your essence, and you’re so close. You just need a little more. “You’re so mean.”

“I g-guess I am.” He hums back to you, so sickly amused by the display in front of him. His free hand trails down your neck before cupping your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric of your t-shirt. “I’m the one who g-got you so fucked up. I should p-probably be nicer, hm?”

“Please.” You slur out again, your expression wrinkled with pleasure as you gasp against his chest. The way he’s grasping your tit is rough, almost painful, but it’s just what you need right now. So mind-numbingly good, the way all of these sensations are playing against one another.

“Alright, a-alright.” Toby chuckles softly. To be honest, he’s really only conceding because he’s getting impatient. He can practically smell the arousal wafting off of you in waves, and he thinks he might just combust if he doesn’t get himself buried in your quivering body as soon as possible.

But first, he’s got to make you cum. Which, is an almost laughably easy task right now.

All it takes is a little more pressure, and a little more speed. Rubbing tight circles against your swollen bud, pinching your nipple softly with his other hand.

And just like that, you’re melting.

You practically sob into his chest, clawing at his shoulders as your whole body trembles from the force of your orgasm. He can feel the warmth of it against his fingers as more slick gushes out of you, making a mess out of you both. “There you g-go.” He whispers in your ear softly, still rolling gentle circles against you to guide you through the waves of pleasure.

Only once you start whining as drawing your hips back from the sensitivity, does he relent. But, not for long.

Your world spins in an array of blurred shapes and colours when he grabs you by the waist and flips you both around. So dazed, you barely even realize what’s happened until you feel him nestling between your thighs - the bulge in his jeans pressing eagerly up against your sopping wet cunt. “You can still t-take more, right?”

The question more so swims around your ears than actually enters them, his voice sounding far away and foggy. So, it takes you a few moments to reply - too focused on the sight you’re greeted with when your eyes lift to try and focus on his face.

He’s brought his hand, shining with your release, up to his face. Then, he’s licking it clean. One finger after another, sucking up everything you gave him like it was the sweetest nectar.

“Y-Yeah.” You choke out, sinking into the sheets below you as you part your legs further. Giving him ample access to everything he could possibly want.

“Though ss-so.” He hums softly, before finally - finally - tugging his sweater off of his torso. Immediately, your eyes feast on the sight. His lean but muscular body, littered with scars that only added to the appeal. His hand reaches for the buckle of his belt, which directs your gaze down lower, and just the sight of his happy trail has your mouth watering all over again.

You watch in a daze as his fingers languidly undo his belt, clearly not in a rush - but you definitely were. Despite cumming once you’re still aching, still burning, still needing him more than you ever have before. “Hah, you’re drooling a-again.” Toby snickers as he tugs the belt from its loops and drops it to the ground. The button of his jeans gets popped next, and then comes his zipper. “Is there e-even a thought in that pretty h-head anymore?” He starts tugging his jeans down his hips. “Besides dick, I m-mean.”

Short answer? No. Your mind was wiped clean, then filled with nothing but thoughts of how badly you needed him to stuff you full. How you needed to fuck you to tears, how much you wanted to feel his cum flood your cunt. But, you’re a little too compromised to say that, so instead you just mutter;

“Nuh uh.” And it’s the cutest thing Toby’s ever heard. He was so fucking in love with you it hurt, and especially now. With this brainless little doll sprawled out on the sheets below him, your eyes bleary and your cheeks stained with tear tracks.

He kicks his jeans off in record time, and then your shirt comes next. It’s off even quicker, tossed off to some far corner of the room. You wouldn’t be needing it any time soon. Then, he just takes a moment to really look at you.

Limbs near limp and heavy, skin flushed all the way down to your stomach. Your tits heave with every gasping breath you take, nipples perked up so prettily. Down lower, he notes how tense your abdomen is, then lower where the insides of your thighs glisten with the mess that seeped out of your core.

“F-Fuck, you’re beautiful like this.” He breathes as his eyes roam you appreciatively. They drift back to your face, and he cracks a grin before letting out a soft hum of contemplation.

Then, he reaches up into his own hair, snagging the goggles that were still resting there. He tugs them off, and just moments later he’s leaning down to place them on your own head - nestling them within the sweat slick stands. “Ah, ss-so cute.” He chuckles softly, before gently nudging your chin. “My girl. A-Ain’t that right?”

You give him a shaky nod, breathing out heavy huffs of breath through your mouth as you watch his other hand reach downwards. You’re not really in the state of mind to put two and two together, but when you feel his cock slap against your thigh just moments later - it’s made pretty clear that he was tugging his boxers off. “And I’m g-gonna give my girl what she w-wants.”

His hands roam down the expanse of your body, leaving tingling trails in their wake before one comes to settle on your waist. Giving you a nice form squeeze. The other one, far too impatient now, doesn’t even tug your panties off fully. Just tugs them to the side, revealing your mesmerizing core. “Gonna f-fuck you dumber than you already a-are right now.” You feel it when he grinds his length against you, sliding against your heat, getting all nice and lubed up with your slick. It a sensation that makes your thighs quiver, back arching when the head of his cock catches on your clit. “W-Want me to stretch you out f-first? Or do you think you c-can take it?”

“I can take it.” You answer immediately, absolutely intoxicated by the feeling of having him so close. So close to giving you just what you need. At this point, it doesn’t matter to you if it hurts, you may just start crying if you’re not stuffed full in the next coming moments.

Toby had expected that answer. But actually hearing it makes his cock throb against you.

“Th-That’s what I thought.” He hums, and if you weren’t such a cock-drunk mess you might’ve slapped him for how arrogant he looked. But with your brain feeling so gooey, there was no room for annoyance in your head. Only white hot lust, bordered by the absolute adoration you held for the man above you.

The love struck daze you’re swimming in only grows more potent when you feel the head of his cock press against your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in, gentle (for now) even though his entire body is just screaming at him to plunge into you completely. Because, fuck, how is it that you’ve never felt better?

So tight, but so relaxed. Your walls eagerly sucking him in, wrapping each inch he sunk into you with velvety warmth. He could feel you pulse around him, just tensing around him more the deeper he got. It’s heavenly. To the point where by the time he’s fully seated, his breathing is just as ragged as yours.

With hazy vision Toby’s gaze catches on the sight of it - his cock completely swallowed up by your welcoming cunt, dripping slick down onto him and he hadn’t even moved yet. It’s the sound of a soft whine that has his eyes snapping up to your face.

Your brows are pinched together, mouth hung agape as you gasp for breath - fingers curled into the bedsheets beneath you, gripping on for dear life. You’re such a damn mess, and he’s barely even gotten started. It’s an exhilarating sight. “F-Feels good?” He asks softly as he nudges his hips forwards just a bit more, nestling into you as far as he could. “This what you n-needed?”

That was an understatement. He made you feel whole again. His cock sinking into you like a puzzle piece falling into place. Stretching you out just right, pressed so deep it made your thighs tremble. Barely able to form words, you let out an absolutely pitiful sound in response. A needy whine, sounding gargled as excess saliva pooled in your mouth.

Your heart is racing in your chest, possibly to a worrying degree, but you don’t care. How could you, when you feel so incredibly good? It’s the type of pleasure that makes your head spin, makes your whole body buzz as you lie beneath him.

Then, the most glorious thing happens.

Toby feels it happen before he watches you crumble apart for the second time. Your walls tense around him to a maddening degree, before your whole body is wracked with ecstasy so intense it couldn’t be put into words. Cumming for the second time, clawing at the sheets beneath you, just from the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you. He hadn’t even moved. He didn’t need to. You had been so hungry for it that the moment he fulfilled your desires, you were coming undone like a sweater with a loose string.

“H-Holy fuck.” Toby gasps out, fingernails biting into your hips as you tremble beneath him. Your pussy contracting and relaxing around him to a rhythmic beat, trying in earnest to milk him dry even though he had barely even started. And man, how in the hell is he supposed to hold back after that? “I sh-should get you like this more often.” He’s muttering, before drawing his hips back.

He doesn’t give you time to adjust. In his opinion, you’re well past warmed up. So when he’s sinking back into you again it’s in a quick, fluid motion. Burying himself back into your heat completely, then doing it again and again and again.

The pace he picks up is relentless. Fast snaps of his hips that make your whole body jolt. So pliant in his arms, you can to do nothing but take it - sliding back and forth on the sheets every time he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

You’d swear you could feel him in your fucking lungs. You can barely breathe. Choking out moans and sobs as drool drips down your chin. It’s too much, not enough, and everything all at once. Making your already fuzzy mind feel hazier, unable to think past the feeling of his cock sliding against your convulsing walls.

In all honestly, you felt like you were floating. Your whole body feeling light and loose. The only thing that was really keeping you grounded, was the feeling of Toby’s calloused fingers pressing deep into your hips.

And in Toby’s eyes, you’ve never looked more beautiful. He’s captivated by absolutely everything about you. How your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, letting the more gorgeously wrecked sounds bounce of the walls of his bedroom. The sight of your skin rippling every time his hips smack against yours. Your sweat frizzed hair, sticking to your forehead and fanning out against the pillow beneath you.

The goggles he had placed on you were slipping further and further down with each brutal thrust, and it’s such an endearing visual. Not to mention, the way you feel.

Your pussy is heavenly, and if he had the choice, he’d never stop fucking you. So hot and tight, velvety walls clinging to him like you never wanted to let him go. It’s almost primal, the way his mind goes blissfully blank - focused on nothing but the need to pump your desperate cunt full of his cum until you’re dripping with it. Then, he’d fuck it right back into you.

“Th-This what you’ve been wanting?” He pants out, before leaning down low to press his face into the crook of your sweat-slick neck. You smell so incredibly good too, and when he parts his lips you taste even better. He’d almost be worried that maybe the drug was somehow rubbing off on him, but that wasn’t even it and he knew it. You were just addictive. You were his drug. “W-Wanted me to get you all drugged up and d-dumb, so I could fuck you like the s-slut you are?”

His words are harsh, but he breathes them out in the most infatuated tone you’ve ever heard. So mean, but so sweet all at the same time. Because he loved you like this. Barely coherent, just a heap of filthy desires, but you were all his. You trusted him to have you like this. Because you knew he’d treat you right.

He always treated you right.

When his teeth sink into your neck, you’re arching up into him immediately. It hurts, of course it does with those uncannily sharp canines of his, but it hurts in the most delicious way. Breaking through the waves of pleasure with a piercing ache, the contrast sending you reeling. Your heavy arms somehow find the will to lift, just so that you can grasp onto him - nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders. “Th-There you are.” He murmurs once he releases your skin from his teeth. “Was wondering w-when you were gonna bring out the claws.”

His hands slip down lower, under the curve of your ass, each palm splaying against a cheek and spreading you open wider. His stamina - ever enviable - never faltered, his cock railing into you at that same merciless speed. Like he was trying to carve the shape of himself into the innermost parts of you, leaving his mark on you indefinitely. “Y-You feel so fuckin’ good.” You hear his breathless voice in your ear. “S-So good, baby. Y-You were made for me, y’know that?”

“Uh huh.” You’re gasping back to him, hiccuping out the words with a great deal of struggle. You’re far too focused on the fact that you can feel that heat building up again, just growing in intensity every time the head of his cock pressed against your gspot. You rake your nails down his back, with enough pressure to leave angry red streaks by the morning. Maybe even enough to draw blood.

That was alright, it wasn’t like he could feel it anyway. All he could feel was the pressure of you clinging onto him, with a desperation that made his thrusts falter.

“Y-You’re close again, aren’t you?” He huffs out against your neck. “Hah, f-fuck you’re amazing. I could fuck this pussy for d-days.”

You’d let him, and he knew that too. “Go on, g-give me one more.”

Like you were under a spell, the coil snaps at the sound of his voice. And this time, it hits you even harder than the others. You would swear you completely blacked out for a moment, eyes rolling back as your cunt gushed all over him. Even more so, when he just kept fucking you right through it. “J-Jesus fuck-“

It was a feeling Toby would never be able to even begin to describe. How beautifully your body responded to him, hot sticky release coating his cock and pelvis as he sunk into you over and over again. Your pussy was gripping him like a vice, and you- Well, you looked exactly like he wanted you to be.

Fucked dumb. Eyes glazed over as tears roll down your cheeks, drool smeared against your skin and bubbling in the corners of your mouth as you choke out sobs and cries. You were beautiful. So, agonizingly beautiful. “A-Ah, you’re gone aren’t you?” He reaches up and gently slaps your cheek, a feeling that just makes you let out a little mewling sound. “S-So cute.”

He curls his body over yours, pressing your thighs up until they’re nearly touching your chest, and he goes to town. Chasing his release, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing loudly off the walls. If he could, he’d hold back, keep you like this until you could both barely move - but well, he is still just only human.

So, he really can’t help it when he’s tumbling over the edge mere moments later. Once, twice, three times his hips meet yours before he’s pressing in deep - nestling right up against your cervix before he’s spilling into you.

You feel the heat of his cum flooding your cunt. How he pumps you so full that it starts gushing out as he lazily thrusts into you. Making you drip with it, just like he wanted to.

And it feels good. So good. A satisfying warmth spreading within you, marking you his from the inside out.

Even once he’s sated, he stays nestled deep within you. His arms wrap around your limp body, pulling you up and close to his chest whilst his cock slowly softens. “S-So good for me.” He murmurs breathlessly, pressing his face into your hair and taking in a shaky gasp of air. “I love you ss-so much.”

“Love you too.” You manage out, though it’s a chore to even open your mouth right now. You feel so incredibly drained, your whole body may as well have been sinking through the mattress with how heavy it felt.

It’s no surprise, when you find yourself drifting to sleep just moments later.

And when you finally wake up again, things are noticeably different. You’re sore, still shaky, and still so incredibly tired - but you’re cleaned up now.

Skin wiped pristine, hair pulled up into a haphazard bun, an oversized t-shirt hanging off of your body. You’re… Confused, to say the least. Considering that the last time you were conscious, you were still stuffed with Toby’s cock.

You blink the sleep out of your eyes, and bring a hand up to rub them, trying to ignore the headache you could feel creeping up on you.

Then, the bedroom door creaks open, and all of your questions are answered.

“H-Hey, baby. Finally awake?” Toby walks into the room with a glass of water in hand, still bare save for the baggy sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He makes his way over to you with a soft smile on his face, before he’s standing right before you. “How’re you f-feelin’?”

He reaches down, gently brushing a few pieces of hair out of your eyes, the look of love in his eyes so potent it was palpable.

“Like I got hit by a truck.” You answer back honestly, your voice still hoarse. You clear your throat a few times, before continuing. “My whole body’s sore.”

Toby lets out a little hum of acknowledgment as he trails his fingers down the side of your face. Though, you can tell he’s not the least bit sorry about it.

“Sore… Bad?” He murmurs. “Or, ss-sore, good?”

And you just can’t help but let out a little huff of laughter.

“Sore, good.”

—————————————————————————☆

hello lovely people <3

This was an absolute joy to write tbh I love it when toby’s a mean little shit

I’m gonna try and pump out a few asks while editing my big fic yaaaaay

thank you for reading!

#toby rogers #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #toby rogers smut #toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x female reader #ticci toby smut #crp #creepypasta smut #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta hcs

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screampied · 9 months ago

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HIHI VEGAS!! HOW ARE YA DOING?!

i’ve had this idea for a while and i was wondering if u could write it!!

trying to get off while your husband (geto or nanami) were gone on a mission that took a few days and you started to get frustrated because you couldn’t no matter how much you tried but little did you know he was standing at the door way to your shared room watching try so hard?! and after he confronted you about it he made you get off multiple times and you even squirted for the first time once or twice?!!

nanami catching you playing with yourself — ★.

cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, brief cunnılingus, praise, first time squırt, mdni. an. hii i’m okay!

with brows frustratingly furrowed and a tangled few fingers of yours curled into your sopping cunt, you whine. it’s been a few days since nanami left for a mission and truth be told—you missed him, dearly. more than anything though, you missed his beloved touch. only your husband knew how to make you moan with something as simple as physical touch. he knew you—more importantly, he knew your body. trembly legs of yours sprawl wide open whilst you’re in the midst of trying to locate your concealed g-spot. alas, it’s so cute because regardless of how many attempts you tried, you could never do it like he could. you’re struggling, coating the entirety of your digits with your slit before you slump back in detestation defeat.

a pout goes against your lips as you swear underneath your breath. yet little did you know, nanami was leaning against the door. “aw, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a soft voice, and you jolt immediately once you realize he’s been watching this entire time. you felt a sudden wave of hotness set against your skin like wind, embarrassment overtaking you. dragging his feet against the wooden floor, he tugs on his tie. “havin’ fun?” and once you pout more, he leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead. you shake your head and he chortles. “ohh, i see. poor baby couldn’t even do it right. but don’t worry, kento’s here—let’s pick up where you left off, yeah?”

his words were so so smooth, just his dialogue alone was enough for you to get off. nanami had a way with words for sure. he could say anything in his deep, tantalizing voice and you’d be creaming in an instant. that’s one of the many things he’s always loved about you though.

“o- okay,” you inhale a single sharp breath, having your wrist already bent to a ninety degree angle. two pathetic fingers of yours pull out and he gazes at the soaking mess of a scene. “i know ‘m supposed ‘ta wait ‘till you get home but i was bored, ‘ken. missed you so bad.”

“baby, ‘s okay,” he reassures with a warm smile, grabbing ahold of your wrist.

his touch, you were still a bit sensitive. as his fingers dance against your skin for a few seconds, you felt that familiar throbbing pool of heat introduce itself. a school of pulsing convulsions rupture out of you so haphazardly that it’s almost splitting you from the inside out. you’re panting out of your full, heavy lungs, and that’s when nanami plants a tender kiss near the beloved crown of your head. “missed you more. ‘n don’t worry that pretty head. ‘sides, you know you can call me right?”

“but— but you’d be working,” you mumble, watching as he slowly spreads your legs further.

nanami gingerly brings a hand between your thighs, a thumb stroking against your puffy swollen clit.

swollen to the very entrance, it’s drooling, dribbling sloppily with your anticipating arousal so much that he feels the inevitable tent arise in his slacks. he’d only been watching for a good five minutes—but he couldn’t stand to see his precious baby struggle. the least he could do was teach you right. as you’re still moaning up a storm, you conclude your sentence with a sweet and shaky, “didn’t wanna disturb you.”

“next time, call me,” and his voice was pitchy.

a fair amount of raspy baritone drags around his words before he inches his head down towards your thighs. softly, he grips your left leg before languidly giving your cunt three passionate kisses. those kisses were tender—entirely sloppy, his chin rubs against your folds and you whine, already feeling your arch.

you whimper out his name in pleasure with a featuring hand immediately digging through his mahogany messy strands.

“doesn’t matter if ‘m on my break or not, i’ll always make time for you. if you play with yourself baby—play with her, i wanna hear it too.”

the most kindest eyes meets your gaze for another time—they then flicker down towards your pussy before he swiftly whistles against it. “wheww, she’s all hot ‘n ready, isn’t she,” and speaking of hot, the air feels substantially thick. so thick that you could cut right through the weightless wind with a knife.

nanami lets off a gruff groan, reaching for his pants before yanking down his dress slacks. “sweetheart, i find it cute though. just the image of you not knowing how to finger yourself properly. thought i showed you how, remember?”

with a heaving gasp, your legs were laid all out for him on display as if your body was a canvas. showing off for him as if you were a mere museum piece.

in which—to be honest, you were.

his special, priceless museum piece.

“i— i tried,” you babble, the feverish air of his warm breath aerating against your folds makes you twitch. despite him being so patient and gentle with you—understanding even, he’s still a bit of a tease. he can’t help it. your sharp breathy pants only intensifies the more each millisecond seconds passes and progresses. all the while you’re trying to match your irregular breathing patterns, a clammy hand of yours combs through his umber, unkempt slick back. “can’t do it like you, kento. my fingers are too weak.”

“aw, ‘s okay. guess you jus’ need more training then,” he guffaws with the most kindhearted, gentle expression. that soon fades once you whine, feeling nanami’s plump, perfect lips surprise your cunt with a needy brief nibble.

the moment his rotating tongue swirls against your entrance its over. it’s so slick and,

already . .

you start to coat his chin with your wetness. it’s shimmery, shining against the window pane that had sun ricocheting against the class. so effortlessly pretty. with your quavering legs being all in the air practically, you grind your hips against his face as you’re laid back.

as countless whimpers mercilessly snatch out from your dry throat, you then start to feel the soft fading stubble of nanami’s against your pussy. briefly, it tickles against your skin before it grabs out a louder bundle of moans. the stimulation of his faint facial hair smearing against your entrance makes you pulse more than you’d initially realize. long, lengthy lashes of his flutter shut and as he’s buried between your thighs—seconds go by before he then gathers out two fingers.

his thickset index and a middle finger, both long and you only ached for them to be inside. you didn’t wanna wait anymore— all you knew was that you needed him.

badly, as if your life depended on it.

nanami’s fingers were so slender lengthy, staggering inches. already, you were losing your train of thought . . imagining his long fingers stirring the insides of your cunt, clamping down against your walls. as youre in your own erotic little phantasm, you try to think of it all. nanami praising you how good you’re doing, how soaked you are—even talking you through it in that warm, alluring voice.

as you’re entrapped in your own thoughts, it makes you suck your teeth in wanting desire. your imagery would only soon turn real within a few sloppy seconds.

“stay with me, silly girl,” he purrs, a teasing smile contorting against his lips. it’s a stretch—merely, with a swatting tiny smack against your cunt, you’re brought right back to reality. you moan, trailing your hooded eyes back down at him and he flashes you a warm, innocent smile. prying his mouth away momentarily, he prods an index finger against your entrance— watching as it slowly makes its way in. slowly, it seeps into your drenched cunt and you whine out a mewl. your sweet noises ring through his ears before he inserts another one. nanami mimics a bowling ball grip with his wrist, a low raspy, “oooh,” slithering out of his throat before he gives your pussy another kiss. a french kiss against your folds—deep, sloppy, and strictly passionate. your glutinous slick glosses against his lips—his chin and below, and it’s nothing but a pleasing sight to see.

lewd, but salaciously pleasing,

“seeee. all you had to do, sweetheart,” he murmurs in a hoarse tone.

hearing the sloshing slopping squelches your own cunt makes, he gets more aroused. you’re not helping the growing boner he’s got. still, nanami’s got the perfect angle, it’s almost too perfect.

two hands of yours drag near your neglected breasts—fondling with them as you bite your lip. once the bit skin gnashes against the keen edges of your teeth, you mom again. jerking further back, your lips slither cutely into an ‘o.’ chuckling, nanami then starts to ease both digits in and out. thrust after thrust—he starts off slow so you can adjust. he’s fingered you before, countless times even. but with him, it always seemed like the first time. it was that good.

its rhythm was enticing,

the crazed stimulation has your so brain fuzzy that you could barely comprehend anything but the soft padded tips of nanami’s thick fingers. “my, you’re quite the soaker today,” he continues to speak, and he lolls his tongue against your folds. your taste was his ultimate favorite—no matter how many times he’d get a quick slurp, he was never satisfied.

well—he was, but nanami kento was a perhaps a bit of a greedy man. he always wanted more of you.

every single time,

raising a brow, he grows curious once you suddenly sit up, pulling him towards you.

landing with an oof, he plops flat on his back. a hand runs through his messy hair as he cranes his neck to get a good look at you. you’re so breathtaking when you try to get what you want.

nanami doesn’t even bother to ask any questions, he always finds it cute whenever you try to have your way with him. keyword, try.

“well, excuse me,” and he spots the cute feral look in your dilated irises. you’re needy, still feeling your cunt twitch between your thighs, you crawl towards his lap to straddle him. “hm. w- what’s this?”

“wanna ride you,” was all your quavering lips could ramble out. nanami’s signature cologne scent was loud. as you make your way closer towards him, it was the only thing you could make out. his musk, his known, manly musk that never failed to give you obscene whiplash. nanami glances at the adorably ethereal sparkle in your eyes and his big hands glue onto your hips. sliding your laced panties to the crevices of your thighs, you spring out his weighty cock. “need you, ‘ken.”

“s… so impatient today, huh,” nanami softly smiles, allowing you to feel all over his body. despite him wearing mission clothes still, your hands felt his bulging muscles poke out through the piles of fabric.

once his hardened dick’s out, you moan—leaning into his neck, a hand of yours giving it a few solid pumps. nanami hisses, pulling you closer to him before you arise your jittery hips. “but- but my love,” he swallows, peppering a few kisses near the crook of your neck. “are ya sure you can handle it? you barely—”

“i can take it, ‘ken.”

famous last words—

you said you could take him, but it was the mere opposite. perhaps you’d let your horniness overtake you, because as you’re trying to barrel his fat tip inside, your legs tremor. it’s like the calm before the storm—your legs vibrate and twitch, preparing to erupt and quiver like a predicted earthquake. as you’re tightly holding onto his pent up shoulders, you whine, the peeling head of his plump cock smears itself against your soddened opening.

you’re trying to squeeze him in but he’s just so fucking so big.

your mouth then starts to open wider, voluntarily growing agape and sweet harmonic babbles of moans only escape through. it’s like you’re singing almost, except but in a much more lewd way.

it feels warm—a scorching hot type of warm.

regardless, it feels good even with you trying to take his size. you don’t get far, the head of his dick was so wide that again, you’re in awing rhapsody. you’re trying to have your cunt envelop his heat— feel him bottom out inside of you yet abruptly out of nowhere, you start to gush out.

it happens randomly. you’re not prepared, he didn’t even make his way inside. barely just the tip and here you were squirting all down his length. the sudden orgasm that drags out your throat was so long, it was pretty and bounced off the thin walls of the bedroom. a shrilling moan rudely ripples out from your esophagus as you make a cute attempt at thrusting forward. even still, you were determined to ride him—but still, it was no use. nanami grows a bit flustered at how you collapse into his chest, rubbing your head against him. he pats your head, a soft smile returning to his lips. “s- shiiit,” you croak out, sucking against the tender skin of his collar bone. nanami’s holding you firm and steady, a hand soothingly caressing down your back. the simple gesture alone calms you down, albeit you’re still shaking on his lap. your hips rapidly stutter over him, and you’re still feeling various piles of rapturing nirvana send you into a complete, euphoric trance. “k- ken, fuuuck.”

“i know princess,” he kisses against your earlobe, your narrow slitting entrance just dying to be stuffed.

you’ve never been more soaked—out of all the times, you’ve never made this much of a mess. you never squirted before, and it was a mesmerizing feeling. your legs felt like mush, still shaking and your cunt’s still trying to get over itself— throbbing and pulsing to it’s beating content. concise minuscule tears of sweat race down the sides of nanami’s thinly arched brows. a hand of his then grabs a fair chunk of your ass, making you rock against him before he lowly whispers to soothe your zealous state. your fervent was through the roof— it was a feeling you couldn’t describe let alone put into words. all you knew was that you wanted to do that again. as you’re still twitching a bit, nanami chuckles, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss it. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” and a smile creeps onto his face the moment you bury your face into his neck.

oh, you’re embarrassed. you thought you could ride him but instead you barely even lasted a few seconds. nanami was quite compassionate though—he holds you close in his arms, pressing another kiss against your collarbone. “don’t be shy. i never minded a little mess anyway.”

at his lewd, filthy words—you’re whining. you wanted him so bad and you wanted more. you bring your desperate lips towards his face to kiss him and happily, he returns the favor. a tongue of his collides with yours before a hand of his gently wraps around your throat. with moving muscles tangoing together, swaying in harmony—his hands continue to wander every inch of your body. nanami likes to take in your curves, the very curvature of your pretty physique—each spot his fingers locates and reaches, it sends you continuous new shivers every time. pulling away after a while to breathe, nanami then makes you lie on your back again. as he’s hovering over you, he leans down to kiss near your tummy. “don’t worry, wifey,” he shushes in a loving tone—his eyes filling up with even more adoring tenderness for you. you were just so pretty like this, exposed and underneath him. your body was like art to him. “i got you,” he coos, and as he raises your leg slowly, creating a damp trail of kisses from your knee to your ankle, he aligns his cock against your drooling slit. “kento’s got you,” he repeats in a sweet purr. “now let your husband take it from here. lie back— yeah, atta girl.”

#★vegasbaby.#nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles

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snoopychris · 2 months ago

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lunch date

warnings: sexual activities in a public place, orgasm denial, matt is a Freak with a capitol F.

in which... well you'll see.

this was so…

dirty. wrong. dangerous. risky. fun.

five different words running through your mind. the only other thing you could think of was matt.

your science teacher had so much trust in the both of you. he was so hopeful that if he left the room to go to his meeting everything would be just fine. everything was not fine. it started out innocent. it was supposed to be innocent.

it was supposed to be a simple game of “doctor.” the lab coat was right there! how were you supposed to go on with your day without slipping it on over your outfit and doing a check up on matt?

if anyone walked in right now, they’d see the way that you were hoisted up on one of the black science lab counters, desperately gripping onto matt’s hair. the scrunchie you previously had on your wrist stuffed in your mouth at an attempts to keep you quiet. it was not working.

for someone who had no sexual experience, his tongue sure was working magic. his grip on your thighs was tight, not tight enough to leave marks, but tight enough to hold you close. one finger was consistently pushing in and out of you, an unusual sensation, but not an unwelcome one. if you were being quite honest, the added fear of being caught almost made you more aroused. matt, who you barely felt was breathing, could definitely feel it.

“matt… matt… matt…” you whimpered, your name slipping through your lips like it was your favorite song. he simply hums in response. he glances up at you for a moment but then goes back to his previous actions, this time taking your clit into his mouth. you gasp at the feeling, further tugging on his hair. “y-you gotta… you gotta breathe baby.” you manage to speak, trying your best to pull him away.

despite your best efforts, matt continues eating like a starved man and his grip on your thighs only tightens.

“can breathe just fine.” his words send a shiver to your core. you should tell him to stop. that lunch is almost over. but you know he’ll tell you how he’s not done eating. not yet anyway.

and then just when you’re on the brink of getting pushed over the edge. just when you’re about to experience the release you’ve been so desperately waiting for… the bell rings. your mouth drops open in shock, the scrunchie touching the floor. matt chuckles when you speak. “matty please don’t stop.” and then he does. he pulls away like nothing even happened. he wipes his lips smoothly and adjusts his hair and glasses, sitting down at his desk. youre in nothing but utter disbelief. you want to strut over and tell him to just do it. that you don’t care if lunch is over. you only care when Mr. Harrison walks back into the room after his meeting.

“you guys okay? didn’t miss anything too interesting did i?” he asks. and matt can do nothing but chuckle and smirk.

dividers by: @issysh3ll

tags!: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @chrisscoraline @m4ttg1rl @princessesgarden @ikyoudreamofme @allylovescody

a/n: you guys r SLUTS holyyyy shit. i love u all so dearly thank you all for 400. when i get home im gonna make my blog so cute trust.

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡nerd!matt #⋆˙⟡matt!#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo au #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo series #matthew sturniolo fluff #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #⋆˙⟡nerd!matt x cheerleader!reader #⋆˙⟡snoopychris writes

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2tarbell · 6 months ago

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can i just say that i love you?! you write trailerpark!rafe so well and i’ve waited so long to find a writer that created a work solely based on him! my obsession with trailerpark!rafe literally came from that short film drew did with rudy 😭😭

anyways i saw that you were looking for blurb ideas and honestly i can’t get trailerpark!rafe and reader doing cute domestic things together like going to the grocery store, washing the truck together, and maybe us seeing how rafe asked reader to move in with him and seeing his reaction to her adding her sweet touches to the place and making the trailer more homey for them.

thank u my love :C ur so sweet and i appreciate the message!!!! wrote something a little small just detailing rafe’s feelings about domestic stuff 💝 ENJOY!!!!

TRAILERPARK!RAFE who loves how reader has become his life.

he had watched her grow up beside him, neither family abundantly rich. but her chalk drawings of butterflies and hearts stretched along the path of her family home — the colors and softness always enraptured rafe, as well as the furrow of her brow when she yelled at him for killing some little bug. then she turned from a little girl with dirt on her cheeks into a mature woman with curves and determination she definitely didn’t have before.

he was sixteen when he fell in with love her, with her soul.

so he asked her to move in with him on their six month anniversary, all bashful and unsure in the way only she could make him. he was nervous about asking her to just come over, yet alone move in with him in such a shitty little trailer; void of decoration and love. he had always wanted to be more for her, for them. this precious woman that wormed her way into his heart since the moment they met at twelve.

it was cute, the way he was avoiding looking as he drove. she could see his ears turning a bit red, his knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. he’d been on edge the entire evening — shifty eyes and shaky hands so unlike the man she had come to know and love so dearly.

it all made sense when he spoke lowly, eyes still on the road ahead:

“so, uh... whaddaya— ahem… was thinkin’ ‘bout you maybe — uh — movin’ in?”

“you— you want me to?”

rafe couldn’t imagine anything better. so he nodded. and so did she.

the drive continued with her head on his shoulder, both biting back cheesy smiles at the next step they’d decided to take. rafe brought her hand to lips, pressing a long kiss to her knuckles — his fears of being not enough were washed away as his place eventually became their place.

there she was that very weekend, all tender and sweet and telling him where to put her stuff amongst his. he sees her in the furniture they picked, the flowers on the kitchen table, the pictures of them on the walls, in the very foundation of the trailer.

(then of course they fucked on every surface available, ‘christening’ the space.)

her hands soothing and gentle on his arms when he comes home to her. rafe never was good at being gentle like she is — he thinks loveliness lives in her bones as she kisses his cheek and mumbles something about dinner that she made him.

but it was the first night after they moved in together, he saw her in the bathroom preparing for bed and felt all air leave him. he can’t imagine a life without her in it. doesn’t want to even entertain the idea. the thought of a place without her burns in his mind — searing and almost painful. he can’t believe there was a time when she wasn’t his.

#tp!reader #trailerpark!rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

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tarohugs · 3 months ago

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after you find out they cheated (nct dream)

►ot7 x reader

► angst!! some (very minute) fluff, cliff hangers..

►read part 1 here!

►a/n part 2 as requested!! although this was def not what some wanted i think this turn off events is much better. please enjoy and lmk if u do

MARK

After the dispatch rumors, Mark’s name trended on social media for the remainder of the month. Seeing his face constantly had upset you tremendously to the point where you had to mute his name and every nickname given to the boy.

You two had not talked since he admitted to you over text he had cheated. He made many attempts to come over and make amends but to no avail, you paid no remorse to his actions. Truthfully, Mark was the love of your life and you dearly wanted to give him a chance considering he was trying his best to set forth with your relationship, but something about you couldn’t let him off so easily.

Throughout the course of your relationship with Mark, he had always said you “were the one” and you shared many intimate moments together. Now, as you watch him through your doorbell camera making his final attempt at reconciling, you decide it is time to finally communicate your true feelings.

He had approached your front door with flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates along with other of your most beloved items you enjoyed. His eyes swelled with tears as he began to stutter words when you opened the front door.

“Y-y/n,” Mark faltered in shock that you opened the door before he even had the chance to knock. “I have a lot to explain, just please listen-”

You laughed, surprised he thought he even had a chance, “Mark, you know what you did was wrong and nothing can change that. Look, I didn’t answer to hear you out, I answered to tell you I’m over you and to stop bothering me.” Your eyes watered as you made eye contact with the boy that was once your lover.

“You know it’s just Dispatch,” he asserted, “None of that was the truth, you know this. Please, just listen to me, I can explain everything to you even if you don’t want to hear it. Don’t just throw away years of us for something so stupid.”

You gasped, shocked that he would claim this was stupid, “There’s nothing to explain to me, you fucked up and this is over. None of the shit I’ve seen about you this month was stupid. I’m not dumb, Mark, don’t treat me like this. You don’t deserve a second chance.”

Mark tried to speak again but you immediately shut him down with the palm of your hand signaling him to stop. Maybe you would give him a chance another day but this wasn’t the time. You never accepted the gifts from him as you shut the door in his face.

As months went on after your final encounter with Mark, he made no other attempts to reunite with you, accepting you were ready to move on to someone better. No texts, no knocking on your door, no phonecalls, no contact at all. Your life with Mark was over for good.

RENJUN

When Renjun had admitted to you he cheated, you didn’t believe his words at first. He had to be joking, I mean who was he to cheat anyways? He was always loyal to you and never failed to ensure you were the number one thing in his life. What could possibly bring him to cheat on you?

“Renjun, what are you talking about?” you questioned, trying to come up with some explanation for his infidelity.

He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he confessed, “You know Yeji? My new coworker? We were at a holiday party and I was drunk and you know how the rest played out.”

You couldn’t believe his words. Renjun was always the type to inform you of every event in his life. When he had told you about his annual holiday work parties, he always invited you, this year was the first you had heard nothing. As you came to the realization why, you finally connected the dots.

Even though Renjun excused himself by offering that he was drunk, this wasn’t a drunken mistake. Renjun was intentional with his actions. If he had intended not to invite you in the first place, his objective was clear he was trying to get in Yeji’s pants.

Not a single bone in your body felt remorse for the boy as you came to comprehend his efforts to cheat on you. “Get out,” you stated strictly, offering no emotion for Renjun to crack.

“Y/n, just give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you,” he began to plead, clutching his fingers together to create a dramatic effect. Nothing could make you forgive him.

“Renjun, you knew what you did. You’re better than this and I deserve better than whatever is going on with you,” you attempted to excuse his infidelity. Renjun had always been truthful with you and although his activities were clear, you had wanted to give him a chance despite your brain telling you not to.

Renjun simply nodded your head at your statement, beginning to get out of your once shared bed and gather his belongings. He didn’t speak a word as he stuffed his suitcase full other than, “I’ll get the rest of my things later.” He didn’t though, after that night he had left for good.

He never texted you to gather his possessions or make amends. You went on for weeks of no contact and eventually trashed his uncollected belongings due to the high level of emotion they caused you. Not wanting to make the first text, you waited and waited for him to make a move.

Eventually your waiting had done you justice has you finally received a message from your ex-boyfriend.

renjun: y/n

renjun: let’s talk

JENO

After many failed attempts of trying to make Jeno offer some sort of apology for his actions, he eventually started ghosting you as a whole. You couldn’t believe he could once be so loving and switch so easily to being the toxic ex-boyfriend he would shame before.

The I love you’s turned into Leave me alone’s as you constantly tried to confront him. During the course of your relationship, you two had moved in together and when he cheated on you he made no attempt to move out - simply inviting other girls over without a care in the world.

Luckily, you two had separate rooms but this didn’t change the fact you could still hear the banging of his bedframe against the wall from one of his many one night stands. One night you had gotten so agitated by his thoughtless actions and confronted him about what was going on.

“Jeno,” you barged into his room, interrupting whatever fuck he had going on. “I’ve had enough of this.”

He pushed the half-naked girl off of him, slowly making his way to throw on a shirt, telling the girl to leave. She scoffed at you limiting her time with Jeno but quickly put on her scattered clothes, leaving your shared apartment. “Y/n, what the fuck is your problem,” he expressed angrily, clearly upset that you would interrupt such an intimate moment.

“Look Jeno, I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, but I’ve had enough of it. Either you stop with this or you leave. You were the one that fucked up. Figure out your life,” you finally stood your ground. Jeno had always been dominant in your relationship, and after your “break-up” this prevailed.

He constantly made you feel bad about yourself, blaming you for “not being good enough” as the reason he had to cheat on you. Yeah, this hurt like hell. However, you were desperate to make Jeno love you again, even if he had acted so wrongly.

Jeno rolled his eyes at your scolding, “If you want me out y/n, so be it. Just know I won’t come back.” He shut the door in your face as you listened to him slam drawers and punch the wall in anger.

You ran back to your room and shut the door behind you, sliding down it as tears began to blind your eyes. What had happened to Jeno?

The next morning you woke up with no trace of Jeno to be found. He offered no explanation for what had changed him so tremendously but you figured you would find out when you received a knock on the door from Jaemin, Jeno’s best friend.

You answered the door reluctantly, scared Jaemin would make a comment on your puffy eyes and dishelved features. “Jaemin, what’s wrong?” you questioned, taking in his appearance. He seemed to be in the same situation as you, noticing his freshly awoken demeanor.

“Y/n, we need to talk. It’s about Jeno,” he sighed, stepping into your apartment.

HAECHAN

When Haechan saw the look on your face after you discovered him cheating, endless apologies left his mouth. He had never seen you so upset and angry with him, he admitted he deserved your backlash.

Even though he was quick to beg for your forgiveness, you never offered it to him, opting to move on instead. You were petty and getting back together with Haechan would not be the power move.

Although you had made it clear you were over Haechan, you never made an official attempt at breaking up with him. Instead, you had simply ghosted him as you didn’t want to make any contact with your so-called ex-boyfriend. This, instead, led you to have even more difficulties moving on as you felt remorse hooking up with other men due to some sort of tie still being connected to the boy.

Months went by and all the efforts you made to sleep with random strangers were ruined as you felt a constant cloud of guilt hanging over you. You tried to get over him by getting blackout drunk at random parties, knowing sober you would make no effort to move on. You were unsuccessful most nights but one night you were finally convinced it was your time.

Unfortunately, the guy that you landed with in bed was only victorious due to the similar features he shared with Haechan. His hair, his voice, his eyes - everything reminded you of him. Yeah, you had technically not gotten over him, but it was a start!

You were gracious enough to recognize this was a lead in the right direction as you had finally slept with another guy since your relationship with Haechan “ended.” Though, as you began to sober up as you awoke from your one night stand, you couldn’t help but notice the man in your bed appeared too close to Haechan.

As you took a closer look, your suspicions were confirmed. You were back to square one.

JAEMIN

Following the numerous days you had left your shared apartment with Jaemin, he began to grow concerned for your being and where you were staying. You had opted to reside in your best friend's house as she was the only one kind enough to offer you a place to stay.

Jaemin knew you lacked options to inhabit for the time being and was quick to conclude your location. No longer than two days of you staying there, Jaemin had made his way into her apartment with a bouquet of roses, reciting the speech of apologies for you to hear.

“Y/n,” he sighed, moving closer to you when you opened the front door, “I know you want nothing to do with me, but I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m so sorry for getting upset at you, you did nothing wrong. Please forgive me.”

You laughed in his face. Did he really think you would forgive him so easily? “Jaemin, I can’t believe you right now. You owe me a lot more than this,” you asserted.

He knew you would be reluctant to accept his expression of regret but he knew he could convince you no matter what it would take. “I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he breathed, handing you the flowers, “please give me another chance. I’ll show you the world.”

It’s crazy to think the way his final sentence could be perceived so differently. Once you had viewed the words as a way of him expressing his love, now it was simply his manipulating attempt to win you over.

Although you were upset with Jaemin for his actions, you couldn’t hate him. You had loved him for months on end and it would be difficult to get over such emotions in such a short time period. You allowed his manipulation to work on you as you offered him a second chance.

You two continued your relationship for months, rebuilding the connection you once had, this time with more caution. As you began to fall in love again, you couldn’t help but wonder who the girl he had cheated on you with had been. This prompted you to begin searching his phone for clues on who the mistress could possibly be.

When you arrive upon your best friend's name in his recent text messages, you ponder what the two would be conversing. As you scroll through their texts and see the endless meetups and shared intimate texts, the story finally clicked into place.

CHENLE

After Eric had shown you the texts he shared with Chenle, he was quick to console you over your ex-boyfriend. You had scheduled a meetup with Chenle immediately after and broke up with him, offering no time for an explanation from him. Eric and Yuna had been good friends of yours for years, you knew everything they told you was the truth with no sugarcoating.

As time went on, you and Eric’s relationship began to prosper into something more, sharing many endless night together but never making it further than a few stolen kisses. A couple weeks after your break up with Chenle, Eric had attempted to ask you on a date but you were quick to deny him stating that it was too early for him to make a move.

“Y/n, I don’t understand. Were those drunken nights nothing to you?” Eric questioned, angered you could deny him so easily.

You shook your head, upset that he would be so ignorant to ignore your emotions. “You know I just got out of a relationship, Eric, those nights meant something I’m just not ready for commitment yet.” Truthfully you never felt much for him when you were dating Chenle, but due to his chivalrous acts of exposing your cheating boyfriend, you had gained some attachment to the boy.

Eric accepted your explanation but still attempted to win you over multiple nights in a row. Eventually, you fell into his trap and accepted going on a date with him. As you delved into a new relationship with Eric, you couldn’t help but feel as though something was off.

Yuna wasn’t very supportive of your relationship after a couple weeks of being with him. She noticed a change in your attitude and offered no reasoning of why she further began to distance yourself from you two. The three of you were inseparable for years so you figured she was just beginning to adjust to being a third wheel.

Though something about Yuna’s lack of support for your relationship with Eric struck a nerve inside you, you couldn’t help but feel there was an underlying message behind her actions. When you received a message from the girl, you were in for a ride.

yuna!!!: don’t hate me but eric lied about chenle

JISUNG

Accidentally live streaming is one thing, having a girl speaking in the background is another. Netizens were quick to spread rumours about who the mysterious voice was in Jisung’s accidental live stream. You were also curious as to know what Jisung was truly doing in that moment of vulnerability, but when you sent him various concerned and aggravated messages, you realized none of your texts were delivered to his phone. Jisung had blocked you.

Being an idol means strict punishment from companies - and under the circumstances Jisung had fucked up, he was in for trouble. Of course his managers were aware Jisung was dating you, so they were quick to assume the mystery girl was you. Due to this, they were punished Jisung by banning all contact he had with you. This led you to having no reasoning for what was going on that day.

You attempted to contact his members but they made no effort to offer you any explanation either, most likely scared they, too, would get in trouble. If you weren’t terrified of the company, you would reach out to his managers yourself, but you had heard of the things they did to idols and you didn’t want to risk any chance of communication you had with Jisung.

After months of no contact with the boy, you finally began to accept he wouldn’t be returning back to your life any time soon; however, when you received a letter in the mail from Park Jisung, a sliver of hope ran through your veins that this chapter of worrying would finally come to an end.

As you opened and read the handwritten letter he had graciously sent, your eyes began to shed tears. In his heartfelt letter, he sent numerous apologies and explained the girl in the video had been one of his cousins, he was simply hanging out with family and didn’t tell you because he wanted to surprise you with a gift she had intended on giving you.

Although you were reluctant to believe such a fallacy, you knew Jisung better than anyone else, he had to be telling the truth. The only problem was, that there was no way to contact Jisung other than via the mail. Even though you had found out the truth, what was the cost?

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grandisknight · 5 months ago

Text

kiss me through the phone | caleb

summary: You hit Caleb’s line one night, wondering how he’s been. Little did you know, you were about to find out all about it and more.

tags: nsfw (mdni), gn!reader (no specific descriptors), teasing, banter, phone call (phone sex), swearing, dirty talk, (semi) guided masturbation, mutual masturbation, ejaculate

wc: 2.6k | ao3 | kinktober in deepspace masterlist

a/n: replaying through the early main story brought this about caleb i miss u sm

When the sun rises, the moon falls in perfect harmony. Such was the way of the world, but it doesn’t lift the heaviness lingering in your heart any further. Especially when that same sky separates you from someone you miss so, so dearly.

A dedicated fighter pilot of the Deepspace Aviation Administration, Caleb was away from Linkon City more often than not.

Either having his nose buried in the paperwork or wings soaring through the skies—he always reassures that he was safe, all in one piece for you to inspect when he returns for a monthly visit. Still as tall as ever, as lovingly annoying as ever when he pretends to be hurt at a pinch to his arm. His laughs only grow in volume the longer you chastise him for it.

Caleb was the apple of your eye. And currently, the same apple plainly stares back at you through a phone screen. A pair of poorly drawn eyes and a lopsided smile overlaid the crisp, red apple beneath; it looked silly, befitting of the man who doodled it on.

You wonder how he was doing—if he ate today, were the clouds kinder than the last storm he told you about. Taking a glance past your bedroom window provided you no semblance of an answer. The blanketed stratosphere was only a pitch black of night and stars littered about them plenty, neatly settled into the evening.

(Call him, you should call him.)

Your fingers hover above the button, room for second thoughts lost to time when you instinctively pressed down. Bringing it to your ear, the dial tone drones on, and so does your heart in wait.

He doesn’t answer on the first ring, and a feeling of unease curls into your gut. Far too soon to jump to conclusions and worst case scenarios, but what if… just, what if something was wrong?

Your heart lodges itself into your throat when you press again, letting the ring dull your ears and become nothing but a monotonous doom. Again, and again. Your own worries are bound to eat you alive by the third ring.

(Please pick up, please, please, please.)

Miraculously, the receiver crackled and a voice so warm greets you, albeit a bit… breathless. “Hey there. You’re still up?”

“Caleb,” you exhale, feeling relief wash over your nerves. Of course he was fine, you scared yourself over nothing. Straightening your back against the headboard, you return the phone to your ear and ask, “Are you okay? You don’t sound so good.”

Rustling could be heard from his end—laundry, maybe? And a faint snap catches your attention, especially when he only hisses and delays his response.

“I’m—“ He clears his throat. “Yeah, all good. What’s up, pipsqueak?”

“Don’t ‘pipsqueak’ me, Caleb,” you say firmly. “Did you break a bone before picking up the phone?” The joke was light-hearted at best, though a hint of your concern faceted the same words.

“No,” he heartily laughs. Even the muffled receiver doesn’t conceal how lovely the sound is. “Sorry, I was just… preoccupied, before I saw your call.”

Your brow quirks at the odd phrasing, and you point out, “Doing what, exactly?”

You pull back your phone to read the time, seeing it’s only a quarter past nine. There wasn’t much to do around this time of night, when the streets were quieter and people kept to themselves within their abodes.

“Stuff.” He off-handedly replies, doing the most to answer you indirectly. “Anyways, what’d you call me for? You’re not hurt or anything, are you?”

“Physically? No. Emotionally? Depends,” you answer. “But I’ll live.” Toying with the edge of your blanket, you add on, “Don’t change the subject, either. I can hear a liar when they come and go.”

“You never let me off easy,” Caleb muses, seemingly conceding to your observation. “Listen, pick a number, one or two, and I’ll tell you.”

“One and a half,” you snicker.

He sighs in disbelief. “That wasn’t an option at all.”

“It counts as both,” you reason with a shrug. “That way, you’ll tell me what’s up either way.”

Caleb doesn’t answer right away, seemingly pondering his response. A part of you feels guilty for finding a loophole to a simple play. “No pressure or anything, really. I was just,” you pause, puffing out a small sigh. “Wondering how you were doing today, that’s all.”

Maybe a text message would’ve gone over better; that damn apple had a good reason for staring so stupidly at you on the screen.

“I can hang up—“

“No,” he interjects, with some tone of urgency that has you stilling your fingers. “Wait, hold on. Don’t hang up just yet.”

More shuffling could be heard on his side, before he softens his words and says, “Today was kinda slow, so I’m alright. Better actually, since you called.”

Ah, there was the answer to one of your questions. You can’t help but let out a small laugh, though appreciating his intent. “Caleb, that’s really cheesy.”

“You like cheesy things,” he points out, and you could practically see the grin on his face. “And it’s the truth. Dinner was fine too. Nothing exciting really happened, and y’know how they are at the DAA.”

Secretive, though maybe it was for the best. You have asked him in the past, though met to no avail because of the very reason. Another checkbox to your wonders is met.

“I missed this,” you quietly admit, now pulling apart one of the frayed strings the blanket once had. “Hearing your voice.” And seeing you, though the unspoken words linger in your throat.

There was still some time before he was due to fly down into Linkon, yet every time felt longer than the last. To you, at least. It was the highlight of your month, knowing he would be around. Walking through Bloomshore together, pointing out sights you’re well-accustomed to, but enjoy every time because you’re with him. Sometimes, you’ll notice little things you miss along the way, and he’ll tease you about the finer things in life.

Caleb fondly returns your confession, as kind as ever. “I miss you too, silly.” A moment of comfortable silence passes, before he asks, “Isn’t it late? You should get some rest.”

You chew your lip, eyes wandering off to the night sky beyond cool glass. He wasn’t wrong, but you weren’t ready to let him go just yet. And you still have another curiosity seeking its answer. “Stay on the line until I fall asleep?”

“I can never say no to you,” he says in acquiescence. You inwardly cheer at the victory. “But… Ah, could you give me like, five minutes?”

You hypothetical pom-poms pause their feathery shakes at his request. “For?” It isn’t that you are unwilling, but your curiosity only increases tenfold.

“I didn’t finish,” he mumbles, quick and low in its delivery. He was more so speaking to himself, but you caught the faint breath all the same.

“Finish what?” You question. “Caleb, I can’t hear you if you talk like that.”

“I was in the middle of a session,” Caleb quickly answers. “There, I said it. Now you know.”

Oh. A session. That was the last thing you were expecting to hear. The puzzle pieces finally make sense then—his breathless entrance, and shuffling that most definitely wasn’t laundry. Then, surely, the snap must have been, “Your underwear?” You finish your spoken train of thoughts in surprise.

“Way to put me on the spot,” he awkwardly chuckles, before clearing his throat once more. “Look, I’ll call you back once I’m done—“

“Stay,” you say. Though, it takes everything in you to speak without wavering to reveal the heat quickly budding in your body. You press your legs together instead, hoping the suppression would tame you some. “And let me hear it.”

Caleb nearly chokes on his saliva.

“You—You’re joking, right?”

“I didn’t stutter,” you tell him. “I’ll help you through it. After all, I’m the one who interrupted your precious alone time.”

“Okay,” he murmurs in thought. Then in acceptance, “Okay, fine. I’ll entertain you for now, but promise to sleep after.”

“Promise.”

Even when it was concerning his manhood, he still had it in him to put your well-being into foremost consideration. How thoughtful. Sweet even, if it weren’t for the direly lewd context of the matter.

You didn’t have the patience for such kindness, chirping instructions of, “Great. So get to work, yeah? Carefully remove those boxers for me, first.”

“Roger that,” Caleb chuckles. You could make out the snap and slide of a waistband, fabric rustling to be likely thrown aside for tomorrow’s Caleb to deal with.

“Use your dominant hand,” you say, raising your own in thought. “And give yourself some nice, slow strokes from base to tip. Squeeze when you get to the head, just enough to get some pre out.”

“Ah, fuck.” You could hear a faint wetting of his lips before they produce a slick spit, surely coating his palm in preparation. He dutifully follows your words with a moan, and you bite down your own just so you could savor the sounds.

“Talk to me Caleb,” you breathe out in turn. “How does it feel? Where are you right now?”

“My room, just me in here. Need—hah—more, but it’s so good,” he manages between breaths. “Would feel even better if you were here with me.”

“Mhm,” you confirm with a hum. “I bet you’d like that. The way my hands would wrap around your cock, pumping you the way you need.”

He hisses through his teeth, more than pleased at the idea. “You’d look so pretty doing it too.”

You find yourself salivating, fingers itching at the ghosting feeling of such illusory warmth. You wet your lips, your own hands slowly creeping towards the warmth between your legs and past the blanket. It was instinctual, though you couldn’t hide your gasp in time and Caleb snickers.

“Oh? Was that what I think it was?”

You could map out his cheshire grin from the question alone, though you didn't have it in you to deny him. “Not my fault you sound so hot like this,” you sigh, pressing the pads of your fingers in a slow rub. “Thinking about you right now has me all worked up.”

“What, you think about me when you touch yourself?”

The answer is as clear as a cloudless day in Linkon, and a sense of want seeps into your voice. “Can’t help it,” you nearly whine. “Happens ‘cause you’re gone so much.”

“Fuck,” Caleb curses. “Me too, trust me. I’ll be home soon,” he promises, though it fades off into a quiet grunt and strained sighs. “Soon, I’ll be there and you can have me in any way you need me.”

You pray that eventuality becomes your near reality by the time morning comes, even if it was an impossible dream. “You can go faster,” you encourage, increasing your own touches against clothed skin. “Do what you need, I’m right here.”

A slight clunk draws you from the lust hazing your thoughts, a pin of concern dropping into your mind. You ask, “Caleb? You okay over there?”

“Phone was in the way,” he says hurriedly. “Speaker’s on, I need both hands.”

Much to your delight, the audio becomes clearer through the speaker as a result. The slaps of skin every time his hand moves up and down his length, to the faint slick of lubed saliva messily enhancing his strokes—they were all there. But the prettiest sounds of all were the gravelly groans stemming from his throat in perfect harmony.

You think about how his abdomen would contract with every breath, the way his brows knit together in concentration. The luminous glow of his amethyst eyes, their sparkle now overlaid in clouds of unadulterated want. The shapes of his lips when he smiles so sweetly to creating the desperate moans you’ve endeared yourself to the entire call. You miss him, and it hurts.

And how much you crave to hold that image between your fingers, instead of needlessly curling and pressing around the fabrics of clothes and their cotton. Your thighs squeeze instinctively with a particularly drawn out moan from the receiver.

Caleb’s voice lowly calls out to you. “Do you hear it? How my cock aches for you?” As if you weren’t lasered in on the very noises this whole time, only growing feverishly with every pump.

You mewl at his cadence. “I do, oh I do. What I would give to have that cock all for myself, hot and heavy and mine.”

“It’s a shame.” His breaths grew increasingly shallow with every word punched out. “You won’t get to enjoy all this cum I’m about to—haah—give, such a shame.”

Your hands shake, closer to the brink than you once thought. “A-ah, you’re not wrong—!” You fall back against the headboard, shoulders sinking in and legs shifting in ardent need.

“Caleb, are you, please tell me you’re—“

“Close?” He pants, arousal embedded into every breath. “Oh, I have been. Practically leaking and waiting for you to tell me when you want to come.”

Your mind dizzies, his voice the perfect charm that pushes you to the edge of release. “Do it now, please, please, please.” Babbles of direction and your pleasure blur together, unable to hold back and with the trembling of your muscles. “Wanna hear you come for me,” you gently cry out, fingertips circling faster over your surely ruined undergarments. “I’m about to—mmh!”

“Coming for you,” Caleb bites out, relentlessly keeping his pace over his sensitive cock. “Fuck, fuck. So much, it’s a mess, ah fuck.”

Your name draws out into a long and decadent moan when he releases, burning into the phone’s static and shooting straight to your heart. The melody sends you spiraling into a wave of bliss, coming undone with just haphazard touches and the vision of his creamy release painting his hands white.

His panting and your own begin to even out in the following silence. Clarity wipes at your muddled thoughts, though Caleb was the first to speak up.

“Hey,” he says softly.

You meet him with the same tone, a small laugh to your calling. “Hi.”

“Feeling alright?”

“Mm. More importantly, are you good?”

Caleb’s chipper reply gives you confirmation. “I’m pretty sure you heard me a few minutes ago.” Another rustle and creak later, you hear his footsteps padding his words. “Need to clean up. You should too, right? Surely it’s not comfortable to be in soaked underwear before bed.”

You gasp, feeling exposed and instinctively pull at your blanket. A poor shield at the moment, if anything. “How did you know I kept them on?”

“I didn’t,” he plainly says. “But now I know.” You could hear him smirking in glee, only growing further when you bemoan the circumstances.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, I’m changing out of them.” You slide off of the bed, shuffling footsteps towards your dresser. Out with the old to the laundry basket and in with the new, you return to the pillows and exhale.

“In bed now?” Caleb asks. He lets out a soft laugh when all you do is grumble a response. “Alright. Promise is a promise, I’ll stay on call until you really hit the hay.”

“M’kay,” you mumble through pursed lips, before bringing the screen to them and planting a soft kiss.

You don’t recall much of what happened afterwards. Only your hushed whispers and Caleb’s gentle voice going on about aviation and work mishaps fill your lingering consciousness. Soon enough, it lulls you into a dream of clouds, where bright eyes of amethyst awaited you with open arms.

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