#If you dare type out the full name

[echoesoftheabandoned]

I know that when the text color changes it means someone else is talking, but I'm not sure which one...

I know cyan is Hazel and Orange is Peter and I believe....Pink is Lava?

I guess what I'm asking for this one is which color represents which person?

So close, close yet so far, far! The Addison's color matches with her name, name! As for the others, others? Why, if we gave the answer then what'd be the point of this game?

Most of us don't actually know, even the ones who speak in those colors. It's... Complicated.

I think my name was... Fruit Punch?

It was Fruitful Punchy Kickbutt Sand the 4rd.

... God, no wonder I was thrown away.

[hwajin]

☆°. — study me | hhj

genre: smut, fluff

pairing: nerd!hyunjin x afab!reader

wc: 6k

warnings: inexperienced hyunjin, oral (m receiving), protected sex, fast-ish plot progression, strangers to lovers (only roughly proof read)

author's note: @hyunverse and @astraystayyh made me do it (also inspired heavily by rin's post!!!!!) 😚😚😚

He had always been cute, though he surely wasn't aware of it; when he sat in class, dainty glasses by the curve of his nose, he always seemed focused, taking notes with furrowed brows, full attention granted to the professor up front. When he left the lecture hall it was often in lonesome, and hurried; not shy, per se, but quick, and quiet. When people talked to him he was polite, though his shoulders tensed, and a blush crept up his smiling cheeks; not uncomfortable, as far as you could tell, yet visibly not in his element, either — and it all added to his charm. He was smart and aware of it, though he seldom raised his hand, initiated questions. He never corrected professors on their mistakes, never played the know-it-all even though he could. He simply sat in class, day after day, to your right in front of you, and left to go to his next class as quietly as he had entered your mutual one.

You watched Hyunjin walk into the lecture hall, headphones covering his sense of hearing, bag thrown over his shoulder lazily, a subtle lightness in his step. He fixed his glasses with a long, delicate finger before he sat down to prep his desk; placing his laptop in front of him, reducing the brightness before typing away his password, fishing in his bag for his phone right before the professor walked in. Hyunjin was busy taking off the bony headphones before they disappeared in his bag, and a big hand slid through the dark strands of his hair, only needing one movement to fix them into place; after that there seemed to be a click in his demeanour, in his attention. No music in his ears, no phone in his hands; quick fingers that were copying the headline of today's topic which the professor had projected onto the board, concentrated, glasern eyes void of the initial casual leisureness the had entered the classroom with.

It was a little bit of a ritual, watching him in class; you weren't sure if it was creepy, if it made you some sort of pre-version of a stalker, or an obsessed freak. You weren't sure either, if watching him was the reason you were at risk of failing the class, altogether. You were surprised every day anew that no one else was; that Hyunjin seemed to be nearly invisible for most people on campus, left for the few friends he kept with, or the occasional aquaintance he made for group projects before those relationships faded away, due to the lack of its' benefit. Yet even those people didn't seem to be taken by him the way you were, didn't see him the way you did; a striking beauty, hidden beneath a character so quiet and quirky, helpless, almost, that to others he appeared nothing but ordinary. A studious nerd, introverted and awkward; but you didn't want to go through another day without having talked to him. Couldn't, you thought; you needed to initiate a conversation, wanted so bad to hear the sound of his voice, the look of his eyes when the object he was looking at was you.

The professor had announced a group project for today's class, and had, by the end of explaining all about it and before dismissing the class, ordered you to look for partners until the next lesson, to start with first preparations. In your opinion, it was the perfect opportunity to go up to Hyunjin without appearing a freak, or too pushy, or utterly random; you weren't sure he even knew your name, so simply asking for a coffee seemed too finite to you. As expected, while everyone was still packing their bags and talking of weekend plans and just how boring their next class was going to be, Hyunjin had already put on his headphones and was on his way out of the hall, daring to disappear into the crowd of students before your very eyes. You hurried to collect your things before you stumbled down behind him, falling into a slow run to catch up with him. He was tall, quite a bit taller than you, so his struts were fast without being hurried, and you struggled to keep up with him, fighting your way between people before your hand could finally reach his figure, and a finger of yours tapped on his shoulder.

Your touch made him stop in his tracks in a rather confused manner, and he turned around perplexed before locking eyes with you. When you smiled at him expectantly one hand of his freed his right ear from his headphones, and he returned your smile, though only politely, yet not catching what you have stopped him for. The confusion was written in his eyes, and you hurried to clear it up.

"Hey, I'm y/n, from uh, Statistics... we just had this class together."

You looked at Hyunjin, waiting for a response, despite not having cleared up anything at all. He nodded, fixing his bag on his shoulder. You almost got distracted by the veins which ran through his hand when he did that, but you forced yourself to look him in the eyes instead. Brown and deep. You had never noticed before how captivating they were.

"Yeah, I know who you are...", a smile on his lips and you weren't sure what it meant, but there was a deep blush on his cheeks right after, and it made your chest fill with a warmth so sound you simply kept smiling at him.

"Was there anything you needed?" Pure curiosity in his tone, and you wondered how such a smart person could be so foolish. Though it was cute seeing him perplexed, cute seeing a void of his usual intelligence within his eyes.

You cleared your throat and fixed your bag yourself, before nodding up at him. You had never stood this close to him, had never noticed just how tall he was.

"I wondered if you wanted to be my partner for the group project thing. I'm not really good at statistics, so I wanted to pair up with someone who could... help me. In a way."

Hyunjin blushed deeper at that, and the fist around the strap of his bag tightened. He gulped visibly, Adam’s apple bobbing before his eyes lost yours suddenly, and he nodded, stuttering a little when he spoke.

"Uh, yeah, for sure. I, uh, I'm not really, like, sure if I can help much, I'm not a great teacher, but, uhm-", he looked at you, and you simply reciprocated his gaze; he blushed yet a little harder, fixed his glasses with a clumsy finger, and gave you a shy smile, "but, yeah. I'll be your partner."

☆.☆.☆

It was a Saturday night, and it felt strange not sitting in front of the mirror to apply some make-up, or get a decent outfit ready to wear to a night out with your friends. Instead, your old bag was thrown carelessly over your shoulder and the steps you took on the glistening asphalt were taking you to Hyunjin’s dorm, to study and work on the project with him at seven in the afternoon. Not what you normally busied yourself with, not on a weekend, but you hadn’t been this excited over a Saturday night plan in a good while. The day prior, Hyunjin had been ready to leave right after confirming he would partner up with you; that you needed to exchange phone numbers in order to be able to start the work he had seemingly forgotten, and you had giggled when he’d typed his contact into your phone with a guilty smile and a low-hanging head. He had replied quickly when you had texted him, clarifying his schedule – busier than you had expected, packed to the brim – before confirming to meet up today. And you had been giddy ever since.

When you knocked on his dorm room, Hyunjin opened moments later. He looked comfortable, in a plain black shirt and grey sweatpants, no glasses but his long, raven hair in a lazy bun. He smiled before welcoming you in, stepping aside and closing the door behind you. The room wasn’t big, much like your own, but clean, neat. Not much decoration on the walls but a picture or two, seemingly of family members, or close friends. You spotted multiple game consoles and a spacey monitor on his desk, an expensive looking keyboard, heavy headphones – different ones he took with him to class –, a mic, his school laptop on his bed. Two candles by his nightstand, and one bouquet of dried flowers on his windowsill; if dried on purpose of due to lack of care you were unsure, but they were pretty nonetheless.

Hyunjin stood behind you as you took in his small room, abashed and clearing his throat when you finally looked at him again. You smiled, and disposed your bag next to his bed.

“Nice room.”

He must have not expected the compliment; he looked perplexed, chuckling suddenly and a little too loud before thanking you quietly. He got rid of a couple strands of loose hair with a quick hand, and straightened his back, shaking his head as if to rid himself off thoughts, to find his way back to you. He gave you a quick smile, too; it was so pretty that you almost told him, almost stepped up to be level with him and touch the side of his face, purely to manifest him within you. Him and his face, his shy smile with its’ small, pearly teeth and glistening eyes.

“Alright, I guess we should start. The desk is pretty, uh, full and stuff, you can just sit on the bed, if... you don’t mind.” He sat down on the chair in front of the desk, motioned you to the bed. He tripped over the light carpet on his floor before finding his seat, though acted as though nothing had happened; cute.

“Just get comfortable.”

The sentence didn’t carry any connotation yet Hyunjin reddened after he spoke, and lost your eyes to rummage in his bag and in the drawers of his desk to fish out all the materials he thought he’d need. You smiled to yourself, and did as he told you; got comfortable on his bed, and got out your papers and pencils, spreading them out on his blanketed mattress. It smelt nice, his bed. Clean, almost like neutral linen, but with a hint of a scent you believed to be uniquely his. It was the first time you sensed it; you had never been close enough to him before to notice it, but now that you sat in the essence of it, in the core of his existence, in his very own four walls, it engulfed you. It was deep vanilla and sweetest honey, it was a scent dark and intense, but light. It wasn’t heavy, it didn’t suffocate you. It simply existed in the space around you, and it stuck to him; you doubted you’d ever forget the scent again.

When Hyunjin looked at you again, turning to face you on his chair, he stopped in his tracks, and his eyes seemed to widen, his jaw to tighten. It felt unfamiliar seeing him without his glasses, though very much known to watch the pink flush creep up his neck. He blinked a couple times, simply watching you, and it wasn’t until you shifted in your place, sinking further into his mattress that he moved again, pretending to look for something, or really doing so. He cleared his throat and choked on his own spit, fell into a short coughing fit; you almost giggled, and when Hyunjin caught sight of your repressed grin, the pink on his neck deepened into a red; he was even more helpless than you initially thought. He was still looking around, not frantically but close to it, mumbling something you didn’t catch, until you spotted his glasses on the nightstand. You leaned over to get hold of them, and offered them to him, with eyes big and expectant.

“Are you looking for those?”

The room was so small that the distance between the edge of the bed and the desk was only an arm length, so Hyunjin got hold of the glasses simply by reaching out, thanking you. He was interesting; everything he did around you, from the way he moved to the way he spoke, seemed always to be happening in a state of trance, or incredible awkwardness you hoped stemmed from fluster, not discomfort. The feeling spreading in the pit of your stomach was indescribable, when Hyunjin, with soft, delicate fingers and a familiar move, placed the silvery glasses on the rich curve of his nose, fixing them into the dip of his ears before sliding them up; ready to work, and he looked concentrated momentarily, serious; far more attractive up close than when you watched him in class, and you wondered if you’d handle an entire hour of speaking to him while in his bed, in his room, in the midst of his scent.

Yet the hour flew by too fast for your liking, and before you knew it you were packing your bag and making your way to the door of Hyunjin’s dorm room. The hour had contained of more giggling and casual talking than you had thought, and it had gotten you excited. Maybe it was your fantasy, but Hyunjin had seemed interested; more than just into the project, interested in you, too. He had asked questions, had initiated conversation, had neglected his work. He had been – after half an hour – brave enough to poke fun at your lack of mathematical skill, after you had failed to understand an equation he’d tried to bring closer to you. You had gasped and acted hurt, and the giggle which he had followed up with had made you so speechless that Hyunjin had needed to continue with the explaining, flustered and stuttering, a little rocky; all hope of understanding his explaining had been lost there, but you hadn’t minded it.

Hyunjin stood by the door, held it open for you. There it was again, the fluster in his eyes, the flush on his neck; and you weren’t even doing anything. It’s not like the big doe eyes you caught his gaze with could play any role in his abash, or the purposeful teasing smile you shot him. It also couldn’t be the fact you simply stood in his door, waiting for him to say something, instead of leaving for the night with a simple goodbye, with your bag in hand, and quick fingers in your hair, pretending to fix it.

“Uh, we didn’t really come really far.”, he finally voiced with a chuckle, and you reciprocated. Yet you waited; it seemed there was more he wished to say. Hyunjin stepped from one foot to the other, furrowed his brows quickly before losing your eyes, locking your gaze again and opening his mouth, though without success initially. He closed it again, at a loss for words, and you cocked your head curiously, deliberately waiting, feigning ignorance. He huffed out an awkward chuckle, more air than laugh, and ruffled his hair. It made it look messier than before, but you liked it.

“Sorry, just – do you wanna meet tomorrow? I know it’s a Sunday, but... I don’t know, I thought we could work on the project some more. Only if you want to.”, he added quickly when you didn’t say anything. Only after you nodded with a smile Hyunjin’s shoulders seemed to relax, the tension in his body dissipating into relief.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Same time?”

☆.☆.☆

It had been two weeks of continuous meeting and working on the project with Hyunjin; but it had also been two weeks of continuous laughing and talking, of conversations far more memorable than the frustration over the schoolwork. Hyunjin had opened up to you, though still shy and quiet, far calmer around you now, more comfortable, it seemed. Yet you shied from initiating more; you had touched his thigh in friendly manner a week ago, barely a second, and the man had turned to a statue of stone, had lost sense of every word he’d had dancing on his lips, had lost train, even, of every thought; it had needed him a good five minutes before he had spoke again. Not only that, but he had eyed you the entire time after, hadn’t left his eyes wander from you, unless you’d caught and reciprocated them; only then his gaze had fallen to his fiddling hands in his lap, sneaking a look again only when you weren’t watching anymore.

You were sure he liked you, you doubted to be wrong about that; but ironically, you liked him too much to confront that, in fear of shying him away, of risking the delicate friendship which had developed over the past two weeks. The group project would end next week, and you weren’t sure if you’ve acquainted enough to stay friends beyond that.

You were sitting on Hyunjin’s bed, him on the mattress beside you, two hours into working on a PowerPoint which looked somewhat decent; decent to Hyunjin’s standards, that was, because you didn’t even know half the tricks he used to connect slides and merge texts and pictures; you would have stopped working on it a good while ago, deeming everything neat and sensible, but Hyunjin had looked at you wide-eyed and shocked, claiming it wasn’t near half-way done. You didn’t mind that he continued working on it; you enjoyed spending time with him, and you enjoyed watching him work, seeing him in his element. He had told you that he was into computers and everything regarding them, whether it was gaming or programming, or merely learning about the matter; you’d had the privilege to watch him build together a new keyboard he acquired, and as little interest as you had in the matter yourself, it was fascinating seeing him burn for something. He had grown bashful when he’d notice how much he had talked, and had apologized; when you’d admitted how cute it was, he hadn’t known what to do with himself, and had simply gone back to installing.

The small laptop lay on Hyunjin’s thighs as he typed away, finding new things to add, brows furrowed and the familiar, concentrated look in his eyes you knew so well from class; and, now, from working together with him. You watched him, weren’t left to do much more; and you enjoyed it. Hyunjin wore a nicely fitting polo-shirt over a simple flannel, and loose jeans which hung down his body leisurely. One of his fingers was adorned by a simple silver ring, matching with the silver of his square glasses; he looked unbelievable, and he didn’t even know it. Over the past week – if it was any possible – Hyunjin had somehow become even more beautiful to you. Knowing him closer made his exterior seem brighter, kinder; as though his soul reflected on his body and pulled you in even deeper than previous.

When he noticed you staring from his peripheral he caught your gaze, though not without his usual shyness. He chuckled a little before you smiled at him, and his eyes lost yours again.

“Why’re you looking at me like that.” His voice carried a hint of a whine, and your skin burned at the sound of it. The side of his face was a deep pink, his ears fire as he typed away on the project. You gathered your bravery; today could be the last time you’d meet him like this, with an excuse and void of brave initiations.

“I like looking at you. You’re cute when you’re working.”

He hadn’t expected it, neither have you; you meant the words, but you were surprised just how easily they slipped past your lips. Without friction, smooth; clear. So clear that Hyunjin stuttered around before going back to the laptop, the blue hues illuminating his face so prettily, you wished to remember this sight forever. Even if today didn’t go anywhere. Even if your short friendship would only be a memory a year down the line; you wished to remember the way his eyes glistened with a mix of confusion and curiosity in the dim light of the laptop screen, how his nose curved beneath his reflecting glasses, the way his tongue darted out and his wet lips caught again the hues of the computer.

Hyunjin mumbled a quiet “What are you saying?”, almost to himself because you barely caught it, and you huffed out in amusement.

“I’m serious.” Your tone was, too, and it made Hyunjin look at you, momentarily. His brows were furrowed, in something like question, doubt. It needed him a while to find his words, fishing them from somewhere within him; you could see the work in his mind, processing your words and understanding them, thinking of a response. You saw the whole process, before he finally spoke.

“Why, though?” Too long a time he took for two words only, but they sounded so honest your eyes softened, and your head cocked a bit, questioning. Hyunjin noticed, and followed up.

“I’m, like, boring. Why are you even hanging out with me?”

“Because I like you.”

The words flooded the room. They had felt trapped in your throat though gushed out the moment you allowed them, and they drowned you both in their weight. Hyunjin only sat, and looked at you. You have never seen him so pale, so colourless; you hoped it was a good sign.

“I don’t think you’re boring. You’re the most interesting person I know. And I like you.”

Only then Hyunjin’s face returned to the usual colour he’d acquired around you over the past two weeks; crimson red and his ears flaming, his neck probably hot if you only touched it. The moments of silence he granted you with were torturing, but the look in his eyes as he held your gaze looked promising; and then his cheeks painted pink, and he started blinking excessively.

“I... I like you, too.”

Two highschoolers confessing, but something about it was sweet, and pure, and ignited a fire within you.

“Can I kiss you?”, you heard yourself saying, and before you knew it, you felt his lips on your own. Soft, the very first thing you thought. Like clouds on your lips, or feathers, or sweet cotton candy. And though Hyunjin wasn’t skilled per se, a little helpless with his teeth and his tongue, unsure of what to do, you enjoyed it. You enjoyed the slow pace of the kiss, the wet sounds your lips made when they touched. You enjoyed feeling his urge to touch you, to lay a finger on your thigh, before he collected enough courage to do so; and the touch was heavenly, too. Heavy on your body, significant and real. Everything about Hyunjin made you buzz; and then a whine slipped past his lips. It tumbled over into your mouth and you swallowed it, before Hyunjin could retract from you a bit, embarrassment glazing his eyes. You smiled in response, burning with a newly found passion now. He mumbled a quiet “Sorry.”, but you shook your head, softly, inching yet closer to him. You felt his breath on your lips, could see the droplet of sweat on his forehead. You could see your own reflection in his glasses; you took them off slowly before almost connecting back to a kiss, yet not quite.

“Don’t be sorry. I wanna hear that sound again.”

You closed the distance between you, and at your words Hyunjin complied, and let a sigh escape him. You almost reciprocated, almost followed suit; you had never heard anything prettier, anything more desperate and honest. You continued kissing him before you allowed your hands to explore his body, cautious of his reactions and even more eager when he leaned into your every touch. He was chasing you, your lips, your hands, your fingers which started playing with the loop of his leather belt. Hyunjin’s breathing had become staggered by this point, heavy and irregular, chest heaving so intensely you almost chuckled at it.

It was subtle, but when you felt his hips buck up from the mattress in impatient anticipation you moaned into him, and finally undid his belt, opened the button of his jeans. You retracted, gave a quick peck to his searching, reddened lips.

“That’s okay, yeah?”

Hyunjin didn’t seem like he had understood the question. He didn’t seem like he understood anything around him while he was looking at you; seeing him so very dumb founded, in absence of his usual cleverness and brains, was far better than you had anticipated, far more satisfying. It gave you an ego boost you didn’t know you needed, or wanted, for that matter.

You chuckled, and asked again; only then Hyunjin nodded frantically, following up with what felt like a million “Yes, yeah yeah, yes.”’s before you continued with a smug grin.

And it was adorable, seeing Hyunjin pucker his lips in the thought of feeling your lips on his again, only for you to lower your head, and bury your face in his neck instead. You felt his low whine against your lips before you heard it, and he sensed your smile against his skin, followed by a kiss deep and long, while your hands played with the waistband of his jeans. It’s been far too long he’d had anyone like this, embarrassingly long; and even longer since he’d liked someone as much as you. He was in trance as your lips travelled further down his body, not undressing him but catching bare spots of skin to plant kisses atop; his collarbones, the curve from his neck towards his shoulders, his jewellered chest right above the neckline of his shirt.

It wasn’t long before you were levelled with his core. Your position on the bed was awkward, a little uncomfortable, but it was the least of your concerns. You pulled up the hem of Hyunjin’s shirt a bit to kiss at his abdomen, teasing and licking and making a show out of it, and it paid off; the man was flush against the wall of his room, fingers digging into the blanket beneath him, looking at you, blinking so often you wondered if he was able to see anything in between. And you were getting impatient. You could feel the faint weight of his erection beneath his jeans as you brushed his core occasionally, his jerks and jumps when you did so, silently begging you for more. When you asked another “Can I?” he nodded, and you pulled his erection from its’ confines. Hyunjin sucked in a breath at that, bashfulness written in his eyes, brows furrowed; and he suddenly looked for something, tapping across his mattress before he got hold of his glasses, slipping them on. He blushed when you cocked your head at him, fixed them onto his nose with a finger; you loved that habit.

“Just, wanna see everything clearly.”

He was almost ashamed when he said it, but he huffed out in embarrassed amusement when he heard you laugh softly, teasingly. Your hand tightened a bit around the base of his sex, causing him to tense up at the sudden pressure, and your fist moved further up his length. You looked up at him beneath your lashes, intently, dark, almost. You gave a single kitten lick to his tip, gave him a kiss after before smiling up at his dizzied expression; “Watch, then.”

With that, you started softly sucking on his tip, cautiously and void of hurry, taking your time. You were languish with it, letting your tongue dart out and dance across his skin, swirling it when he moaned out or tightened his fist which held captive the fabric of his vanilla scented blanket. You didn’t know that watching him throw his head back would bring you the pleasure it did, but watching Hyunjin’s Adam’s apple beneath the soft, frail skin of his neck made you roll your hips into nothing, the sweat slowly forming on his skin made you flush and sigh against him. You took him deeper, engulfing him in your warm, wet mouth, inch by inch, getting used to his length, the feeling of his heavy veins against your tongue. And he was shy with his hands, placed them everywhere but on you; ran his fingers through his hair with furrowed brows, fisted the fabric of his jeans, or the softness of the blanket, or the pillow laying next to him. It wasn’t until he locked eyes with you, when he caught sight of a loose strand of hair framing against your cheek that he was courageous enough to reach out; Hyunjin moved the hair out of your face softly, delicately almost, held it then, his palm a nice feeling on your skull. And he kept it there. Stroking your hair, tightening around it when you hollowed your cheeks, when you sucked away the salty precum oozing out his angry tip.

You felt him at the back of your throat. He was bigger than you had expected, and his weight lay on your tongue, his tip grazing repeatedly at your uvula, by now sensitive and reddened, though you didn’t stop your antics. Not when the sounds he let roll off his tongue increased not only in volume but in desperation, whines so high pitched you couldn’t help but grin against him. You watched him, every of his movement; the way his glasses slid off his nose before he fixed them with a haste movement, quick and messy, making them sit slightly tilted; enough for you to notice, not enough for him to care. The strands framing his face starting sticking against the sweat forming on his forehead, his lip had developed a bruise from his repeated biting on it; he was a mess, heaving breath and breathless sighs, sweaty palm fisting at your hair in utter helplessness. And he could barely speak a word, could barely form a thought, yet opened his mouth nonetheless, only for words to fail him. He stuttered about, whimpered more than he succeeded to speak. You slowed down your pace, halted a little in the bobbing movement of your head, let your jaw rest to allow him to collect his mind. He looked down at you, urges so deep swimming behind his eyelids, and he breathed out shakily, licked his bruised-up lips.

“I’m so close.”

The words came out his mouth almost apologetically, breathless and quiet. He sat there, back against the wall, an utter mess, too beautiful to be real; lips spit-covered as he spoke, brows formed into one line, eyes glazed with every human emotion this planet granted.

“Do you have condoms?”, you whispered against him, your voice hoarse and weak, your throat sore. He hadn’t expected the words, but nodded after a moment of blushing, motioning to his nightstand with a cock of the head. You eyed him teasingly before shifting to open the drawer of his nightstand; packs of painkillers and coughing drops, looking old and unused. Pencils and other useless stuff before you spotted packs of condoms shoved into the very back, and you fished for one before meeting his eye again. You contemplated teasing him about it; you knew he wasn’t bringing girls over regularly – if at all – to his dorm room, so the small stack of contraceptions was all but adorable – Hyunjin was so very reddened though, and looking so very bashful already that you decided against it, and busied yourself with sliding off your jeans instead, leaving you to sit in front of him in your shirt and panties.

And he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Not much exposed but when you straddled him your thighs were everything his eyes ate alive, shyly placing his hot palms atop them, breathing in shakily when you giggled at him. You tore open the little plastic wrapping, slid on the condom after a confirming nod of his; and when you leaned in to kiss him, he reciprocated it with a depth before not shown, clashing against your mouth clumsily but so passionately that you couldn’t mind it. You shifted in your place, lips never stopping to eat up his own, until you hovered above his erection. He felt your warmth atop him already, bucked his hips up in impatience only for his tip to graze your clothed sex; you both moaned at the embarrassingly short contact, and it was your cue to sink down on him slowly. You weren’t prepped, but you were wet enough for him to slide in easily after pulling your panties to the side, taking him inch by inch, not hurrying, dragging out the scenery. You watched him all the while, and the sight was utterly priceless; blown-out pupils beneath his glasses, a longing so grand behind his lids that you couldn’t help but kiss him again. A deep kiss as you bottomed out on him, felt him endlessly inside you, and he whined into your mouth, loud and raw when you clenched around him.

“I’m not gonna last long.”, he breathed out when you leaned back again; he was too adorable. Looking almost guilty, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs desperately. You chuckled before placing another peck on his swollen lips – even more like clouds now, puffy and soft to touch – and rolled your hips against him. He groaned deeply, throwing his head back with a quiet thump against the wall, hands tightening on your body, as though trying to hold you in place. You felt him twitch inside you, felt him throb against your depth; he wasn’t lying, he wouldn’t last at all.

“I don’t care. Just enjoy yourself.”

With that you started riding him slowly, and softly, giving him an opportunity to collect himself, though it was to little use. He was whining, he was throwing his head back and forth, lulling to the side, he was losing control of everything around him; his glasses slid off his nose repeatedly, sitting so deep they dared to fall off, sounds so loud you wondered if people outside could hear what was happening behind closed doors. His neck was red, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were closed so tight you wondered if it strained the muscles in his face; and you kept rolling your hips against him, chasing the feeling yourself, basking in the way he filled you out entirely. Basking in his sounds, in the sight of him, in the way he felt; this was better than what you had dared to dream of, and you hoped it would be yours for eternities to come.

It wasn’t two minutes, and not before you started bouncing up and down Hyunjin’s length slowly, with thighs strained and hips eager, that the man stuttered in his demeanour, bucking his hips so helplessly into your own, without much success in causing friction, simply to chase you, to chase the feeling, to come closer to you. And it wasn’t long after that when a whine so endearing, so frantic left his throat, and he came into the condom with a string of apologies and curses, and whispers of your name. You allowed him to ride out his high, moving against him in failed search of your own release, kissing at his neck and nibbling at the lobe of his ear, whispering reassurances, feeling his hands on your skin, his arms caging you in. His breathing was heavy, shaky, his eyes closed in exhaustion, or relief, or simple and pure pleasure when you leaned back again. You smiled to yourself, watching calmness take over him now; no nervousness now as you yet sat atop him, no awkwardness, only satisfaction, content.

When he opened his eyes and noticed your staring at him he blushed again, and upon remembering his softened sex inside of you he groaned lowly, twitching in his seat. He was sensitive, he was endearing; and for now he was yours. You smiled at him, and he reciprocated it shyly; you fixed the glasses on his nose, gave him a long, deep kiss. He basked in it, simply let you kiss him, let you run your hands through his hair. It wasn’t until you guided his right hand to your core he sucked in a breath again, upon feeling your warm wetness on his fingertips; and he looked at you with eyes wide open when you leaned back, and whined out again when you whispered; “Gonna show you how you can make me feel good, too.”

taglist: @es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads-archived @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife @binniesbang

[wonyoiz]

make out session with jungwon

The night was thick with tension, the kind that had been simmering between you and Jungwon for what felt like forever. The room was dimly lit, a soft glow from the streetlights outside casting long shadows on the walls. You were sitting close to him, so close that the heat from his body seemed to wrap around you.

Jungwon’s eyes were locked onto yours, his gaze was intense. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, each beat louder than the last, almost drowning out the quiet of the room. His hand slowly reached out, fingertips brushing lightly against your cheek, sending a shiver racing down your spine.

“Are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah…” you admitted, your voice shaky, betraying the emotions swirling inside you.

His lips curled into a small, reassuring smile, but his eyes remained serious, leaning in slightly, his warm breath against your skin. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. The softness of his touch was almost maddening, but it didn’t stay gentle for long. As if sensing your need, Jungwon deepened the kiss, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

You let out a small gasp against his lips, your hands unconsciously reaching for his chest. The kiss quickly grew more intense, more urgent, and you found yourself pressing closer to him, craving for more. His lips moved against yours with a skillful confidence, and when his teeth grazed your lower lip, biting down gently, you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped you.

Jungwon’s response was immediate, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he tightened his grip on you. “You like that?” he murmured against your lips.

You bit back a smile. “What do you think?” you teased, before biting down on his lip in return, a little harder than he had, just to see his reaction.

It was instant. A sharp intake of breath, followed by a deep, hungry kiss that left you breathless. His hands roamed over your body, finally settling at your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.

You couldn’t help but tug at his hair as he nipped at your lip again, this time harder, almost as if daring you to stop him. “Jungwon…” you whispered, the sound of his name on your lips only spurring him on.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your jaw, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck.

“Jungwon,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and anticipation. You tilted your head, giving him better access, and he took full advantage, biting down just enough to make you gasp, his lips soothing the sting immediately after.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. You looked into his eyes, still feeling the lingering effects of his touch, and bit your lip, a small smile playing on your mouth. “Then don’t stop”.

His eyes darkened, and without another word, his lips were on yours again, and you were lost in him, the night stretching on as you surrendered to the tension that had been building for so long.

Wrote this because I feel like he’s the type to bite the lower lip when making out lol

[anantaru]

cw. breeding + marking, fem! reader

wriothesley knows that you like to be bred as much as he loved claiming you in such vulgar way, and every muscle in his body seems to focus as he grinds his hot load inside the tight hole— most likely edging himself on until he's overstimulated and cums a lot harder, better, so your cunt twitches after every new roll of his hips.

because do not misunderstand the duke, okay? wriothesley needs to be sure it's all getting in there, has to be certain that it will reach you entirely, precisely so your belly could be all warm and cosy, so your womb was full of him and he can mark you up in an expressive type of way.

fuck, you know he means it when he tells you that he will fuck you all night until your body takes over his musky scent, claiming his territory so no one in teyvat will even dare to question if you're taken or not.

they will simply know.

however, it's intimate when wriothesley does it, utterly gentle when he slowly grinds the spilled cum back into your hole as you're whining out his name in sweet, little trembles— your figure spent and mind barely listening, your soul too captivated by his thick shaft splitting you in half and aching your thighs until you simply cannot part them more.

his large palms keep them up for you though, just in place which was draped up his shoulders, greedily squeezing and pressing at the flesh of your thighs as he fucks his load back into you.

you're leaving it to wriothesley's strong hold to steady and pleasure you at the same time— your walls forever memorizing the outlines of his length as you flinch within a shaky breath when you listen to the wetness that accompanied the lewd snaps of his hips.

needless to say, you enjoyed it whenever wriothesley was so rough with you to the point where you're seeing glimmering stars and then helplessly climax around his cock, sense the throbs of his dripping dick melt into your soused walls as he claims his territory again and again and again.

but now, you smile to yourself, because there was just something in how he held you so sweetly and precious when tightly locked in between his strong arms— sweat covered chests intertwined within each other as he tiredly glances down at you, a soft noise that was more a whisper than anything manifesting an appreciation across his entire face.

wriothesley was just so enthralled by your beauty— he doesn't see the difference between having you all glammed up or fucked out with your mascara sticking to your cheeks. he loves you at all times, voices just how much he loved this, loved you, and how deeply it turned him on that you adored it too.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[acid-ixx]

Baby bird, angel,,,,,,what else we got?

masterlist !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

to bruce, you are his precious, sometimes his treasure. he'd even unironically call you his baby in front of the press. and most of the time, if he describes you to his co-workers in the justice league who knew of your identity, he will always say "my child" with a dark undertone that you are not to available for adoption even if it was you who insists that anyone else can take you under their care, other than your actual family.

alfred, in all his years of caring for you, is very much settled into calling you his own child. although it's a given that he refers to bruce's children as a "(young) master", whenever it's just the two of you in the same room, with you needing a semblance of solace, alfred would always grasp your shoulders and comfort you with kind words and affirmations, starting his sentence with "(name), my child."

dick obviously calls you his baby bird and only he has the trademark to do so, nobody else has the privilege and not even your other siblings. he's obviously overbearing, chirping out that nickname in an irritingly higher octave whenever he gets some sort of cuteness overload just by squishing your cheeks. one way to know if dick is in the same room as them is if you hear a man squeal your nickname.

babs, in addition to dick, probably calls you birdy or something cheesy like her little hatchling. you have no idea where she gets those nicknames but she's better in so many levels compared to the eldest because she doesn't often call you those, not unless she's in a really good mood. though you should be scared if she ever calls you by your full, government name; one where wayne is the surname and not your mother's.

jason calls you his angel because unlike his other siblings, you're the only one who has never wielded a weapon against anyone (and if you ever do, he'd pretend like that never happened, excusing your actions for self defense or something else). like a buy-one-take-one package, he always ruffles your hair whenever he refers you that nickname. there's times, though, where he says it in a possessive tone, daring criminals that if they try to even touch a single centimeter of your skin then they'd better pray that his angel has enough mercy to not prosecute him for whatever comes next.

tim doesn't really call you any nicknames, and you're so grateful for that. but what he does have of you are multiple logs of all the times you call him his name or a nickname, deluding himself into thinking you'll always say his name with such a fond voice and a huge smile. and it doesn't take a genius to find out just how easy he folds if you ask him for a favor with a sweet tone, calling him 'timmie' or something cringier. but hey, as long as it gets you what you want.

damian isn't the type to settle for nicknames, but he's the one that often refers to you as "my older sibling", "my blood sibling" and every other term that refers to you as his. he's very much like bruce in the regard that even if he has to share with his siblings, you will always, and always be damian's beloved older sibling. there's times, though, that he would secretly dream of a day where you would be comfortable enough to call him your baby brother.

steph and duke are the most normal ones when it comes to calling you a nickname, resorting to calling you their bro or sis. but sometimes steph loves to tease you by calling you the nicknames babs gives you, to the point that it's now steph who calls you her hatchling in a sing-song voice, and it'd be duke who'll eventually create a tune for your own nickname. the entire melody would then be an established hum for the entire manor and it takes you all your sanity and alfred cooking your favorite dish to not strangle the living hell out of those two.

cass also is another case of your sibling not having any nicknames for you, but she does associate you with the word love, someone who she should protect with all her heart and you'll find her one day calling you that nickname. the longer she becomes closer with you, the more she's bound to call you her beloved sibling, too, just like how bruce calls you his beloved child. and if it's not your name that she tries to call, it would instead be the tune that duke invented.

[tokiiwonz]

best friend anton thoughts

tw: jealous anton, car sex, unprotected sex (don't), exhibitionism, allusions to manipulation, infidelity xD, eunseok was punched (i'm so sorry)

thinking about best friend!anton walking in on you touching yourself while moaning his name ♡ like damn, you just can't help yourself; you grew up together, laughed with each other, even cried with each other—you're not going to just let any other person have their way with your man, not by any chance and fortunately for you, anton thinks the same

best friend!anton who knows you have feelings for him and decided to get a girlfriend for himself just to mess with your head. he swears it's nothing romantic, and that he just wants to see you get jealous over someone else.

best friend!anton who gets mad jealous after finding out that you're in a relationship with someone in his friend group. he's known for being usually a chill laid-back type of guy but the moment the news broke out, he didn't hesitate to punch eunseok for taking what's supposed to be his.

best friend!anton who recklessly drags you to his car before roughly kissing you in the backseat. he never thought that his silly little plan would backfire at him, and to him, it's all your fault. you need to be put to your place for getting back at him.

he never hid his liking for your strawberry-flavored chapstick. one could argue that he has used more of your chapstick than you did, and he never imagined how good it would taste when he's tasting it on your lips.

best friend!anton who is a shameless manwhore. given everything that had happened, he takes his phone out before recording you both making out in his car. a documentation, at least according to him. he shows off how he makes your pretty lips bleed with the way he bites it; all swollen and needy for whatever he's about to give you, taking lots of pictures and clips of all the hickeys and bite marks he left before sending it to their group chat.

best friend!anton who has you bouncing on his lap, tearing up as you struggle to take his fat cock. god, he loves the way you cry for some dick. no ones supposed to make you cry like this but him, and as he was thinking that, he couldn't help himself but to clench his jaw and drag his cock deeper into your warmth.

you felt so full, on a high if you will, having his cock bulging your stomach with every thrust. it doesn't help you much that you could feel him drag every inch of his cock deeper and deeper. neither did having you wrapped so tightly around him helped anton—he feels so lightheaded with how tight and small you feel against him—he’s got you all stuffed up, soaked and quivering, riding him as he hits the softest spot inside you.

anton has always taken pride in his work, and your vulnerability under his control right now has only fed his already-big ego.

he's shameless on where he puts his kiss marks on; on your cheeks, neck, shoulders, anywhere he finds enticing, really. “i didn't say stop, did i? i said don't you fucking dare stop riding this fat cock. you're going to show & tell eunseok who fucks you this good.”

and before you could even give a proper response, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt anton’s harsh thrusts up into you repeatedly. he hit your prostate in many ways he could—your toes curled up as anton let everyone hear your moans.

“thaaat’s it, doll,” he groaned as he throws his head back in pleasure. “riding so good for me. go make a show, show how my pretty boy rides tonnie's cock.”

best friend!anton who likes to humiliate and make you feel small ♡. rumors has it that it's hard to deal with a mad anton due to how annoying he could be, but you think otherwise. you're very much willing to do everything to get his hands all over your body, even if it means to anger this mad man (which pretty much explains how poor eunseok was dragged into this mess)

"who told you to act like some kind of street whore, hm? i'm giving you just enough attention, aren't i? am i not enough for you to get a boyfriend? fuckass slut.”

best friend!anton who's temperamental. one moment he's splitting your hole open, the next he's making you his pillow prince (it counts, even if you're at the back of his car). he's just so obsessed with messing with your head even when he's fucking you—he wants you to be dependent on him, because you're his and his only ♡ kiss your forehead while his hands were wrapped around your neck? you got it. making you cry with his thick cock while cuddling you? you got it.

anton may seem like some kind of playboy, even a fuckboy, to other people, but he has never slept with anyone but you. his cum stained fleshlights and self clips were his testaments. he just loves you so much, ok? ♡

"got what you needed, doll face? a good dick down from me? yeah, that's it... anyway, wanna come over later?” he pecked your lips as he cummed inside you and smiled. “keep my cum inside you, alright? i’ll eat you out later when we get home.” you giggled as he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before preparing to drive.

[gloxk]

Please give us sum eren & armin toxic hc Like armin and eren would be two different types of toxic. Ex!boyfriend eren blowing ur back out n sending it to ur bf or whoever ur talking to n ex!boyfriend armin not being able to take you talking to someone else so he fucks you a party or smth idk go crazy. 🤰🏾.

“Yeah my ex is crazy.”

A/N: No bc they are two completely different types of toxic. Like idk how to explain it? I js feel like eren is the type of ex to be petty and trifling. But armin..omg..armin goes off the fucking deep end. But i love my lil psychos🤭.

WARNING!: A lil fluff , toxic behavior, unhealthy relationships, smut, unprotected s*x, Blackmailing, Mentions of offing someone, obsession, controlling, plus other things . +17 mdni

EREN! Please for the love of god don’t let Eren find out you fucking with someone else. This man will go from nonchalant to crazy. “Oh word? This what we doing?”. He disregards the fact yall broke up a whole month ago.

He would definitely blow up your phone after seeing a post on instagram. “Who is he?” & “He fuck you better then me?”. Oh and please don’t tell him yes. Because let me warn you. He will be right there at that door knocking.

“You know you fucking lyin. But ight we gon see.” He hung up the phone and you laughed at him. Who gave this man an ego? Did he really think he was the only man with good dick?

You were confused when you heard a knock on your door but to your surprise, it was eren. “What the fuck?” he pushed right passed you walking into your apartment. “Nah, don’t fucking play with me y/n.” You could tell he was pissed just by his voice.

This man wasted no time bending you over the couch and fucking you right there.

“Nobody could fuck you better the me.” He grabbed a fists full of your hair pulling you up to his mouth.“You belong to me. Don’t ever let me find out there’s someone other than me fucking you like this.” and to be quite frank, nobody could fuck you like eren.

Eren talked you through the whole thing. He knew he was rough with you, but god he couldn’t help it. So that’s why he praised you for taking his dick so well <3.

He took out his phone and pressed record. His hard thrust drove lewd moans from your lips. “Fuck right there!” you screamed every time his hips slapped your ass. He made sure he got glimpse of your face so the guy knew it was you. He made sure you screamed his name just to prove who you belonged to.

You got so many miss calls while eren fucked you to sleep. Every time ole boy called eren went faster. <3

You woke up alone, your bed empty. Your phone notifications were through the roof. Over 100 notifications from that guy. It was crazy. But a simple text from eren stuck out. “Let me hear word about you fucking w some again. Next time ima put em in a casket.”

You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. But one thing you did know was he made every threat a promise. And he always kept his promises.

ARMIN! Lawd, you let armin find out you even thought about some one else fucking you, it was over.

This man went full psychotic when word got to him about you talking to someone guy. Apparently you were at a party grinding all up against him.

The first thing armin did was collect every drop of information he had on this guy. His home address, His mother’s facebook, His phone number, Job number. He knew too much on the fucker who decided to touch his pretty “girlfriend”.

It pissed him off, how dare you try to replace him. He blew up your phone to the point it crashed. “That’s so fucking cute, y/n. You think that you can just go fuck some other guy?” , “Please don’t make me do something crazy.” . The crazy part was you didn’t even fuck the guy, he was just fucking crazy. He always assumed you were cheating for some reason.

When you didn’t answer his calls he pulled up expeditiously. if you didn’t answer within the 30 minute window he wouldn’t wait to show up to your door.

“Y/n open this goddamn door.” He banged on the door. It was 2 am- oh yeah he knew you had work later, he didn’t care.

As soon as you open the door an argument ensued. “Pick up the fucking phone when I call you y/n” He yelled at you slamming the door behind him. “You ain’t my fucking boyfriend Armin. Ion gotta do shit.”

He never made you regret your words so fast. His nails dug into your hips as his pace increased. “Ain’t yo fucking boyfriend huh? Then why you letting me fuck you raw?”

Your bed was a mess after he made you cum over and over again. After he was done all you could do was mumble incoherently ‘Nobody is better then you’. He was rough but his after care made up for it <3.

He kissed your forehead before he nuzzled into your chest. “You’re the best I ever had.” he soon fell asleep after those words left his mouth.

I love my cute lil crazy guys <3

[stylesispunk]

'Merry christmas, please call me' day 1/3

no outbreak! Joel Miller x f! reader

summary: one year after your breakup, joel is pleading to his phone for a call from you. 🌲

w.c: 6k>

warnings: age gap (joel is fifteen years older than reader) angst as usual and fluff with a happy ending like in the Christmas movies.

a/n: welcome to the first day of my joel's fic christmas version event. I want to remind you that i'm from south america and my christmas has always been hot because of summer, so i'm feeding my dreams. I hope you like this one and see you again on the second day of my mini event! Happy reading 💌

The smell of burn cookies made Joel nauseous. The lights of the Christmas tree in the corner of these four walls seemed to gave him a migraine.

A night like this where everyone was celebrating around a table full of food and loved ones. He was lonely with his thoughts drifting away to you. You were on his mind, day and night for the last 365 days that he had been without you.

It was his fault.

He recalled, this exact same night a year ago when he broke up with you out of the blue, due to poor excuses nor even him believed.

Your age gap, that you were childish, that you deserved someone better, he’d said. Someone whole. A ridiculous justification that even he couldn’t stomach now. At the time, he’d convinced himself it was for the best. He had no right to drag you into his mess of doubts and guilt, into his constant battle with the ghosts of his past. But it didn’t stop the ache from settling in his bones, lingering there like a wound that refused to heal.

His thumb hovered over your name in his contacts. It had been a year since you left, a year since the fight that had left him standing alone in the doorway, watching you walk out with tears in your eyes and a suitcase in your hand. He hadn’t dared delete your number, which now stared back at him, mocking him in the silence. How many times had he replayed that night in his head, hoping he’d wake up and find that it was nothing more than a cruel nightmare?

Call her, the voice in his head whispered.

But what could he say? What words could possibly undo the damage he’d caused?

A sigh escaped him as his head dropped back against the old couch, the springs groaning in protest. The soft hum of a Christmas song playing from a neighbor’s apartment felt like salt in the wound, each note a reminder of what he’d lost.

You were his person. You’d been his anchor through the storms, the one who never let him drown, even when he tried to push you away. And he had pushed you, hard enough to make you leave for good.

But Joel still hoped. Pathetically, desperately. Every buzz of his phone made his heart lurch, only to drop moments later when it wasn’t you. He hated himself for it, for waiting on a miracle he didn’t deserve.

Finally, with trembling hands, he let his thumb tap against your name. The call button loomed there, so simple and yet so heavy. He stared at it, his pulse pounding in his ears.

“Merry Christmas,” he muttered, voice rough. The silence of the house swallowed his words. “Please call me... God, just call me.”

He closed his eyes, pressing his palms to his face. You were out there somewhere, probably laughing, surrounded by family or friends. Did you even think about him? Did you miss him the way he missed you? The unanswered questions gnawed at him, the kind of pain he’d learned to carry in his bones over the last twelve months.

When he finally looked at the phone again, he couldn’t stop himself. He typed out a message, the words simple but raw:

Merry Christmas. Please call me.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself, the soft whoosh of the message sending feeling louder than it should have. Now, all he could do was wait.

You won’t reply, he thought bitterly. Why would you?

But just as he began to put the phone down, it buzzed in his hand.

The sound of laughter echoed around the room, your cousin telling some exaggerated story about their vacation as everyone leaned in, caught up in the humor of it all. You tried to smile, to focus on the holiday warmth and cheer, but it all felt distant, like you were watching it from behind a thick pane of glass.

For the last four Christmas you had had someone by your side, holding your hand and making you feel a whole in the room.

Now he wasn’t here.

Now it had been a year since he pushed you away from his life.

You excused yourself for a moment, slipping out to the porch where the cold December air stung your skin. It was quieter out here, the twinkle of Christmas lights from neighboring houses reflecting off the snow. You wrapped your arms around yourself, breathing out slowly, your breath a cloud in the chill.

And then you felt it. The buzz of your phone in your pocket.

Sliding it out, your heart stopped when you saw the name.

 Joel.

The message was simple, just four words Merry Christmas. Please call me.

You stared at the screen, your mind racing. You hadn't heard from him in months. The last time had been his birthday three months ago, a tentative text you’d sent just to say you hoped he was doing well. He’d thanked you, but the conversation died before it could have started. You thought that was the end of it, that Joel had moved on, just like everyone told you he would.

But now... this.

You sank onto the porch steps, your fingers tightening around the phone. The memories came flooding back: The past Christmas, when he’d held you in his arms by the fire, murmuring promises you’d believed in so completely. And the fight that tore it all apart, the anger in his voice masking the vulnerability he was so terrified to show.

You swiped at your screen, opening the message again.

Call him, a voice in your head urged. Just call him.

But another voice whispered fearfully

 What if he’s just lonely?

For a moment, you hesitated, your thumb hovering over his name in your contacts. Then, with a deep breath, you pressed the button. The phone rang once, twice, each second stretching into eternity.

“Hello?” His voice was low, rough, like he hadn’t spoken in hours.

You closed your eyes, the sound of him unraveling something inside you. “Joel,”

….

You’d spent hours making everything perfect. The table was set with Joel’s favorite dishes, the candles were lit, and soft Christmas music floated through the air. The snow outside created a picturesque view through the windows, and for the first time in days, you were excited. Joel had been distant lately, his long hours at work bleeding into your evenings, but tonight would be different. It had to be.

“Joel, you’re late,” you said softly as he walked through the door, his shoulders slumped, his face tired.

He barely glanced at the table as he shrugged off his jacket. “Got caught up at work.”

“I made dinner.” You gave him a small smile, trying to meet his eyes. “I thought maybe tonight—”

“I’m not hungry,” he cut you off, his voice sharper than it needed to be.

Something in his tone made you flinch. You watched him sink onto the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at nothing. The weariness in his face didn’t feel like exhaustion; it felt like resignation.

You walked over to him carefully, sitting on the edge of the coffee table so you could face him. “But it’s christmas eve.”

“I know.” he muttered, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t the man who used to pull you into his lap and kiss your worries away. This was someone locked behind a wall you couldn’t reach. “You’ve been different lately. Talk to me. Please.”

He let out a long breath, his hands running through his hair. “I don’t know what we’re doin’ here.”

The words slammed into you like a physical blow. “What?”

Joel looked up at you finally, his expression hard, guarded. “Us. This. It doesn’t make sense anymore.”

Your heart pounded. “What are you talking about?”

He stood up abruptly, pacing the room like he needed to get away from you, as if your presence burned his skin. “You’re too young for this—”

“Don’t.” Your voice trembled, but you stood too, following him. “Don’t do that. You’ve never cared about the age gap before.”

“You should be with someone who can give you what you want, not some old man who can’t figure his shit out.” He turned, finally meeting your eyes, and his were cold, deliberately so. “Someone who isn’t afraid for what people say.”

The words hit like ice water, sharp and cruel. You took a step back, shaking your head. “Joel, that’s not fair. I don’t care about any of that. I love you.”

“Don’t,” he said again, his voice a low growl. “You’re just sayin’ that because you don’t know any better.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it’s the truth.” He swallowed hard, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I can’t be what you need. And you deserve better than what I can give.”

It wasn’t the words themselves that hurt the most, it was the way he said them, like he’d already decided this for you, like he’d been carrying it around for weeks, months, without telling you.

“Don’t you dare decide what I deserve,” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Joel looked at you then, really looked at you, and for just a moment, you saw it: the regret, the pain, the fear he was trying so desperately to hide. But then he turned his back to you, his shoulders rigid.

“Go,” he said quietly.

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“I said you should go.”

The room went deathly silent except for the sound of your soft, choked breaths. Joel didn’t move, didn’t turn around as you stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything, to take it back. But he didn’t.

“We had been together for five years, Joel” you sobbed “Are you throwing away?”

Joel's jaw tightened, his back still turned to you as if he couldn't bear to face what he was doing, what he had already done. His hands gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, knuckles white as if he were holding himself together by sheer force. The dim light from the Christmas tree glowed faintly in the reflection of the window, mocking the warmth and love that should've filled this night.

“I’m tired.”

You couldn’t stop the tears, couldn’t keep the crack out of your voice as you pleaded. “Tired of what? Of me?”

He flinched at the sound of your voice breaking, his shoulders drawing tight. “It ain’t just that,” he muttered, the words coming out strained. “It’s everythin’, me, us—” He finally turned to face you, his eyes dark and distant, as though he’d already started pulling himself away long before tonight. “You deserve better.”

“Don’t do that,” you snapped through the sobs, pointing at him, your whole-body trembling. “Don’t you dare try to make this about me, Joel. This is about you. You’re the one running away, you’re the one who—” You swallowed hard, the pain rising in your throat like a wave. “Who’s giving up.”

Joel's face crumpled for just a second, but he smoothed it out quickly, replacing it with that familiar mask of stubbornness. “I am tired,” he admitted, his voice low, hoarse. “Of fightin’ every damn day with the parts of myself you don’t see. I can’t—I can’t drag you into that. Not anymore.”

You shook your head, your tears falling faster now. “I knew what I was getting into when I chose you, Joel. I chose you! Over and over for five years. So don’t you dare tell me I can’t handle it, or you.”

His gaze flickered toward the floor, like he couldn’t stand to look at you. “It ain’t enough.”

Those words cut deeper than anything else he’d said. “What’s not enough?” you whispered, your voice breaking as you stepped closer. “Me? Or us?”

Joel looked back at you then, and for a moment, you thought you saw his resolve crack. You thought he might say he was sorry, that he’d been lying, that he still loved you the way you loved him.

But all he said was, “You need to go.”

Your heart shattered.

“No,” you choked out, shaking your head violently, refusing to believe this was happening. “I’m not leaving. I’m not walking away from you.”

Joel’s face hardened, though his eyes betrayed the storm inside him. He took a step back, deliberately creating distance between you both. “I already did, darlin’.”

A sob escaped you, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached; your lungs empty despite the cold air filling the room. It felt surreal, like you were living a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from.

“Fine,” you whispered, your voice ragged. You wiped angrily at your tears, glaring at him through the blur. “If you want me to go, I’ll go.”

“I hope you know what you’re losing.”

Joel didn’t respond. He didn’t move. And when you finally stepped out into the cold December night, suitcase in hand, the sound of the door closing behind you felt like the final nail in the coffin of everything you had built together.

It wasn’t until you were gone—until the silence swallowed the room whole—that Joel let his mask fall. His knees buckled, and he sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as tears slipped through his fingers.

Because he knew.

He knew exactly what he was losing.

And he left you walk away with nowhere to go.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat. “I—I wasn’t sure if you’d...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish.

There was a pause, and then you spoke. “I wasn’t sure either.”

His heart clenched. He wanted to say a hundred things, to tell you how much he missed you, how every day without you had been a slow, aching torture. But all he managed was: “Thanks for calling.”

“I wasn’t sure I should,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. “Joel, why?

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Because it’s Christmas. And because...” He ran a hand over his face, forcing the words out. “Because I’ve been a damn fool. I didn’t fight for us when I should’ve. And not a day’s gone by where I don’t regret it.”

The silence on the other end felt unbearable. “I know I don’t deserve this,” he added quickly. “But I just needed to hear your voice. Even if it’s just this once.”

His words cut through the cold night air, stirring something deep inside you. Joel had never been good at talking about his feelings, and hearing him now, his voice raw and unsteady, you realized just how much this call meant to him.

“You hurt me, Joel,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “I gave you everything, and you... you pushed me away.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick. “I know I did. I was scared, alright? Scared of messing up, of losing you... and I ended up doin’ just that.”

You swallowed hard, your eyes stinging. “And now? What’s changed?”

“I have,” he said without hesitation. “I’ve had a year to think about every mistake I made, every time I let my pride get in the way. I’m not sayin’ I’ve got it all figured out, but... I know I can’t go another year without you, darlin’.”

The silence stretched between you, heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

“Joel,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Just tell me if there’s a chance,” he said, his voice breaking. “Even the smallest one. I’ll do whatever it takes, I swear it.”

“Are you alone?” you asked, feeling your voice trembling.

Joel froze for a second, caught off guard by the question. He exhaled softly, his breath shaky. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “It’s just me and some burnt cookies.”

Your heart ached at his words, but a small, broken laugh escaped you at his words. Burnt cookies. Joel had never been much of a baker. That was your thing. And yet, every Christmas, he’d insist on helping or more accurately, on getting in the way, while you made batch after batch of cookies.

“You burned them?” you asked softly, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips through the tears.

“‘Course I did,” Joel grumbled, though there was no bite to it. “Turns out, I’m no better at bakin’ now than I was then.” He hesitated before adding, almost shyly, “Guess it’s not as fun when you’re not here to yell at me for sneakin’ the dough.”

“Joel, I swear to God, if you eat one more spoonful of that dough—”

He grinned, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, before scooping up another bite and popping it into his mouth. “What? I’m just makin’ sure it’s good, darlin’. Quality control.”

It was like that every single time, you’d roll your eyes, only for him to pull you into his arms and press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering, tasting of sugar and butter.

You’d tried to scold him, but he always made you laugh instead, his hands sneaking around your waist to pull you close. The cookies always took twice as long as they should’ve, and more flour ended up on the two of you than in the dough. But those moments had been yours—sweet, simple, and full of a kind of love you didn’t realize you’d taken for granted until it was gone.

“Do you remember?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Joel’s breath hitched on the other end of the line. “Every second of it,” he admitted softly. “I remember how you’d get that little crease in your brow when you were concentratin’, tryin’ to make everything perfect. And how I’d ruin it all just to get you to look at me instead.”

You smiled through your tears, the memories making your chest ache. “You never helped. You just kissed me the whole time.”

“Well,” Joel said, his voice thick but warmer now, “you didn’t seem to mind too much.”

You swallowed hard, pressing your hand to your chest as if it could stop the way your heart ached for him. For all of it. “I didn’t,” you admitted quietly. “I loved that.”

There was a pause, heavy and delicate all at once.

“I miss you,” Joel said finally, his voice low and rough. “I’ve missed us. Not just the cookies, or the traditions... but you, darlin’. I miss seein’ you smile. I miss hearin’ your laugh when I did somethin’ dumb. I miss... kissin’ you in the middle of a mess we made together.”

Your throat tightened, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. How was it that Joel always managed to say the exact words you’d been afraid to admit to yourself?

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” you whispered. “It makes it harder.”

“What?” he asked, hopeful somehow.

"To hate you" you said, bluntly.

Joel went quiet on the other end of the line. The soft crackle of the connection was the only sound between you, filling the heavy silence where words struggled to exist. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, as though he was afraid saying it out loud might break you both.

“I don’t want you to hate me, darlin’.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing the heel of your palm against your forehead to stop the tears. “Well, it would’ve been easier if you’d stayed away.”

“I tried,” Joel admitted.

You could picture him sitting there, in the same living room where you’d spent so many nights living together. You imagined the empty house around him, quiet and cold, without the warmth the two of you used to fill it with.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence on the line felt heavier now, like it was holding both your hearts in its grip.

“I thought—” you started, then stopped, the words catching in your throat. I thought you’d moved on, you wanted to say. But you couldn’t. You weren’t ready to admit that fear aloud, not yet.

Joel seemed to understand anyway. “There’s no one else,” he said softly. “There never could be. I—I didn’t want to make you think I was waitin’, like I was hopin’ for somethin’ I didn’t deserve. But I couldn’t... I couldn’t bring myself to move on. You’re it for me.”

Your breath hitched, tears welling up as his words sank in. You’re it for me. Joel Miller, stubborn and guarded as he’d always been, was laying himself bare in a way he never had before.

“Why now, Joel?” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Why tonight?”

He let out a heavy breath. “Because i'm in love with you” he said, leaving no room for doubting “And because I couldn’t let another month pass without tellin’ you what’s in my heart. Even if it’s too late... I needed you to know.”

The line went quiet again, but this time, it wasn’t the kind of silence that felt heavy with regret. It felt different—like a small flicker of something you weren’t ready to name just yet.

“Get some sleep, Joel,” you murmured softly, surprising even yourself.

He chuckled lightly, a sound you hadn’t realized you’d missed so much. “Alright, baby. I will. You too.”

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight,” Joel replied, his voice soft and warm.

You hung up the phone and let it rest against your chest as you lay back on the couch, tears still wet on your cheeks.

You stood up to go back inside the house and the room felt still, like the world had paused just for you to breathe, to take in everything that had happened. The faint glow of the Christmas lights cast soft, colorful patterns on the walls. It felt bittersweet, like the warmth of a memory that wouldn’t quite let go.

Your chest ached with the weight of it all. Joel’s voice still lingered in your mind, the way he’d said baby, soft, familiar, like it belonged to you and no one else. It had been so long since you’d heard it, and it stirred something in you you’d tried to bury. Something tender and raw, something that reminded you of stolen kisses in the kitchen, of his arms wrapped around you on cold nights, of the way he used to make you feel like home wasn’t a place but a person.

You wiped at your cheeks, sniffling quietly. “Damn you, Joel Miller,” you whispered to the empty room, but your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you didn’t know how to feel. Angry? Relieved? Hopeful?

“Are you okay?” your mother’s voice broke through the stillness, soft but laced with concern.

You startled slightly, turning toward the sound. She stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the dim glow of the hall light, her face etched with the quiet worry only a mother could carry.

You tried to smile, to brush it off like you always did, but the tears still wet on your cheeks betrayed you. “Yeah,” you croaked, your voice hoarse from the emotion threatening to spill over. “I’m fine.”

She tilted her head, unconvinced, and took a slow step closer. “Sweetheart...”

The way she said it made your composure wobble. You looked away, blinking rapidly as if that would erase the evidence of the storm swirling inside you. “It’s nothing, Mom. Just... Christmas stuff.”

She didn’t say anything right away, just moved to sit beside you on the couch. Her warmth and presence were enough to break something loose inside you, and for a moment, you just sat there in silence.

After a long, heavy pause, you finally spoke, your voice trembling. “I have to go.”

Your mother turned to you, her brows knitting together in quiet confusion. “Go? Where?”

You swallowed hard, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I... I don’t know…home?”

Her expression softened, and she gave a small, knowing nod. “To Joel?”

You glanced at her, startled that she understood so quickly, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. Mothers always knew. “I just-” You broke off, your voice faltering.

She studied you for a long moment, then reached out to gently clasp your hand. “Then go,” she said quietly, squeezing it in encouragement. “But go for the right reasons, sweetheart. Not because it’s Christmas, or because you feel like you owe him something. Go if you think it’s what your heart needs.”

You blinked at her, your throat tight. “What if I regret it?”

She smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And what if you don’t?”

The question hung in the air like a challenge, one that settled deep in your chest.

You exhaled shakily, then stood, your movements unsteady but resolute. “I’ll be back soon,” you said, though you weren’t sure if it was more for her benefit or your own.

She gave you a gentle smile and stayed seated, as if she knew this was something you had to do on your own. “Take a coat,” she reminded you softly.

You nodded, grabbing your coat and scarf off the rack by the door. The cold air outside hit you immediately as you stepped out, but it didn’t slow your steps as you headed to your car. Your heart pounded, nerves swirling in your stomach as you turned the ignition and pulled out onto the quiet, dark road.

Joel sat slouched on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the Christmas tree he’d half-heartedly decorated earlier that day. The glow of the lights cast soft, uneven patterns on the floor, but he wasn’t really seeing them. His mind was stuck somewhere else—on the sound of your voice, on the quiet goodnight that hung heavier than he could have imagined.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, tired in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix. It was the kind of weariness that came from missing someone so deeply it felt like it hollowed you out.

A sudden knock at the door startled him. He frowned, glancing at the clock on the wall.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, grumbling under his breath as he trudged toward the door. “Tommy, I swear I’m fi—”

He pulled the door open mid-sentence, the complaint dying on his lips when he saw who it was.

You.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just stood there on his doorstep, wrapped in your coat and scarf, your cheeks pink from the cold, your breath visible in the freezing air. Your wide eyes met his, filled with something he couldn’t name—surprise, maybe, or uncertainty.

Joel froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his heart thudding hard against his chest. He blinked, like he was trying to make sure you were real. “Baby?”

“Hi,” you said softly, the single word carrying so much weight it nearly knocked the air out of him.

Joel let out a shaky breath, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “What... what’re you doin’ here?”

You shifted the bag in your hands, your fingers clutching the handles tightly, like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “I, uh... I brought some things to bake cookies,” you said quietly, your voice trembling just enough to betray the emotions you were trying to hold back.

Joel just stared at you, completely still, like he wasn’t sure he’d heard you right. The words sank in slowly, and something in his chest tightened—hard and sudden—until he felt like he might break right there on the spot.

“You... you brought stuff to bake cookies?” he repeated, his voice so low it was barely a whisper.

You nodded, a small, almost shy smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah,” you murmured. “I figured... if it’s just you and some burnt cookies this year, maybe you could use a little help.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a shaky breath that sounded dangerously close to a sob. He turned his face slightly, as if trying to gather himself, but there was no hiding the way his eyes shone in the soft light spilling from the doorway.

For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t speak, he just looked at you, like you were something fragile and precious, something he couldn’t believe was right in front of him. Finally, he cleared his throat and stepped back, his voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon in, baby. It’s too damn cold out there.”

You stepped inside, the warmth of home enveloping you, after being away for a year, this house still carried the faint scent of pine, Joel and something a little burnt, probably the remnants of his earlier baking disaster. Joel shut the door behind you, lingering for a moment before turning to face you again.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, his voice uneven, like he was fighting to hold something back.

“I know,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

Joel swallowed hard, the weight of your words sinking into him like a balm to every ache he’d carried for far too long. “You always know how to fix my messes,” he said, his lips curling into a small, almost wistful smile.

You gave him a look, a teasing edge to your voice despite the tension still lingering between you. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t burn down the kitchen.”

Joel let out a quiet laugh, gruff and hoarse, but real. It sounded like the kind of laugh that had been buried for too long, and the sound of it made your heart squeeze in your chest.

“Yeah,” he said softly, watching you with that same unreadable expression. “Guess someone does.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the air between you thick with unspoken words and years of memories. Then Joel sniffed, scrubbing a hand down his face as if to steady himself. “You still use that same recipe?”

“Of course I do,” you replied, your voice light but steady. “You’re gonna help me this time, though. And I mean actually help.”

Joel watched you for another long moment before he turned toward the kitchen, clearing his throat again. “Alright, then,” he said, his voice thick with emotion he couldn’t quite hide. “Let’s make some cookies.”

The kitchen was filled with the warm, sweet smell of freshly baked cookies. A few floury handprints stained the counter, mixing bowls were stacked haphazardly in the sink, and a couple of slightly misshapen cookies sat cooling on the tray. It wasn’t perfect, far from it, but it felt like you. Like him. Like the pieces of something familiar were falling back into place.

You set the final cookie down on the tray, brushing a bit of flour from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Well,” you said, stepping back to admire the messy success, “I think we did it.”

Joel didn’t answer right away. When you turned to look at him, you found him leaning against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. There was something soft in the way he looked at you, something so Joel,it made your breath hitch.

“What?” you asked, self-conscious under his gaze.

He shook his head slowly, that smile growing just a little. “Nothin’,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Just…you look even more beautiful than I remember.”

The words hit you like a wave, sweeping away all the uncertainty you’d been holding onto. Your heart skipped in your chest, and your breath caught in your throat, leaving you momentarily speechless. You hadn't expected that—hadn’t expected him to say that, especially after all this time.

You glanced away for a moment, suddenly unsure of yourself. The kitchen suddenly felt warmer, the space between you two too close, and yet it felt like everything was finally falling into place, as if you’d both been waiting for this moment without knowing it.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to steady your breath. You met his gaze again, and this time, there was something different there—a vulnerability, a longing that mirrored your own.

He stepped forward, slowly, as if giving you the space to decide what came next. But you didn’t pull away. You stood there, rooted in the moment, caught somewhere between the past and the present, unsure of what the future held but certain that, for once, you wanted to face it with him.

“I mean it,” Joel added, his voice soft but unwavering. “You always did have a way of lightin’ up a room, darlin’. But right now… you’re more than I remember.”

A lump formed in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t hold back the emotion that swelled within you. It was like he had reached right into the depths of what you’d been afraid to feel and pulled it all to the surface. You reached out instinctively, your hand brushing his arm, the warmth of his skin making everything feel so real again.

“Joel, I—” Your voice broke, and you paused, unsure of the words.

Joel didn't let you finish your sentence. Before you could gather your thoughts, before the words could fall into place, he closed the gap between you. His hand found your cheek, his thumb grazing the soft skin there, as if he needed to feel you, to make sure this wasn’t just a dream. His lips met yours, soft at first, hesitant, as though he was giving you the chance to pull away, but you didn’t.

You kissed him back, your hands coming up to tangle in his shirt, pulling him closer as the familiar taste of him flooded your senses. It was like stepping into a memory, one you’d been holding on to without even realizing it. All the years, the distance, the pain—all of it seemed to melt away in the warmth of his embrace.

The kiss deepened, slow and tender, and you let yourself lose in it, in him, in the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this was how things were meant to be all along. There were no questions, no doubts, only the comforting certainty of him being right there, of the connection you had never truly lost.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, you gazing the floor instead of his eyes.

His hands were still on your face, his fingers brushing over your skin like he was memorizing every part of you again.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Joel murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His eyes searched yours, vulnerable and open in a way that made your heart flutter.

“Are you going to push me away again?” you asked, meeting his eyes with some fear dancing on them.

Joel’s expression faltered for a moment, his gaze flickering with a mix of fear and hope. He searched your face, as if trying to understand what you were really asking, what you really meant.

“No. I will never do that again.” he answered, “I was scared,” he admitted. “Scared of not bein’ enough for you. Scared of how people talked about us. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize you deserved better.”

“I never thought that,” you said softly, finally meeting his gaze.

Joel swallowed hard, his eyes searching yours. “I was a damn fool for pushin’ you away. And if I could go back and fix it, I would. But I know I can’t. I just…” He paused, his voice breaking. “I just needed you to know how sorry I am.”

“Joel,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if we can go back to what we had. But…maybe we can start somewhere new.”

Joel’s breath caught, hope blooming in his chest. “I’d like that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’d like that a lot.”

The silence that followed felt different than before. It wasn’t filled with regret or confusion, but with a shared understanding—a quiet acknowledgment of what had been lost and what was still possible. You stayed close, your hands gently resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

Joel finally let out a shaky breath, as if he’d been holding it in for far too long. His hands came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, like he was memorizing the feel of you again. "I’m not askin' for all of it back. Just... a chance. To show you that I can be the man you deserve. The man I should’ve been all along."

You nodded slowly, your heart heavy but hopeful. “I’m not sure what this looks like, Joel. But we can figure it out, right? Together?”

A soft, sincere smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Joel pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your face as he looked at you with love and something more vulnerable, but what was more vulnerable than love? He took a slow breath, and then his gaze shifted toward the window, the quiet fall of snowflakes beginning to collect on the sill outside.

His voice was soft, almost reverent. "Look at that," he murmured, his eyes tracing the peaceful scene outside. "First snow of the year."

You turned to look out the window, your heart fluttering as you watched the snow gently blanket the world in white, the quiet stillness of the moment wrapping around you both like a cozy blanket. It felt surreal, almost like something out of a dream, a dream you didn’t want to wake from.

Being this close to the man you loved felt like a dream.

Joel stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close again. His chin rested on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” he said, his voice full of raw tenderness, the words wrapped in the kind of love that had been buried for too long but never truly gone.

Before you could respond, he turned you gently, his hands sliding down your arms to hold your waist as he kissed you again, soft and slow, like this moment was meant for both of you, like it was always meant to be this way. The world outside faded, leaving only the quiet hum of your heartbeat and the warmth of his touch, the promise of something new blooming between you two.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like home again.

[sweemmy]

⋆｡ﾟA family is made not just by blood, but by love, chaos, and endless adventure. And in their case, a little bit of tough love and explosions too. ﾟ｡⋆

— Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika, and Jinx.

VI.

After many conversations filled with questions and uncertainties, you and Vi made the decision to adopt and take that big step toward building a family. At first, Vi was a little unsure, afraid she wouldn’t live up to what motherhood would demand. But everything changed in an instant: when she saw the baby you both had chosen for the first time, her gaze softened with tenderness, and all her doubts vanished. In that moment, you knew you had made the right choice.

From the moment you brought the little one home, Vi became an unshakable source of love and protection. Though she still struggles with the overwhelming feeling of stepping into the role of a mother, her determination never wavers. She is ready to teach her child to face the world with courage, even when it seems like a complicated place.

The sweetest side of Vi shines through when she’s with her child. The house fills with laughter as they dive into intense pillow fights or games of hide-and-seek, where Vi, with a mischievous grin, always lets herself get “found.”

When she heard her child call her “mom” for the first time, she felt a lump in her throat and her heart overwhelmed with emotion. Tears threatened to fall, but true to her style, she tried to cover it up with a smile and her usual: “Who the hell is chopping onions around here?”

CAITLYN.

You and Caitlyn decided to turn to a sperm donor, carefully selecting someone whose values and characteristics perfectly matched what you both envisioned for your family. With her impeccable organizational skills, Caitlyn took charge of the process, ensuring that every step was supported by accurate information and well-thought-out decisions.

She’s one of those moms who’s passionate about instilling education from the very beginning. Sometimes, she goes a little overboard—like when you give her a simple bib, and she’s already imagining stitching the family name in gold thread.

Caitlyn spends peaceful, quiet afternoons walking through the park, gently pushing a baby stroller. She deeply enjoys sharing with her child the simple wonders of life, showing them the vibrant colors of flowers and the cheerful songs of birds, teaching them to appreciate the beauty in the everyday.

Though she seems to have everything under control, there’s a sparkle of emotion in her eyes every time her baby smiles. She’s a mother full of pride, unable to hide the immense love she feels for her family, and she’s not afraid to share that overflowing happiness with the world.

SEVIKA.

Although Sevika wasn't the most enthusiastic about the idea of becoming a mother, you managed to convince her that together they could build a unique family. She doesn’t talk about it much, but when the baby arrived, something in her changed profoundly.

Even though she tries to keep up her tough exterior, there's a softer side to her that comes alive only for her child. She’s the type of mom who grumbles when the kid makes a mess… and then helps clean it up while murmuring, "But don’t tell your mom."

She builds custom toys and practices games that involve physical challenges because "life doesn’t give you a break." Her child adores her, especially when they see her adjusting her mechanical arm like a superhero.

No one, absolutely no one, dares to question her role as a mother. Once, a stranger tried to criticize you as a couple, and Sevika made it clear there wouldn't be a second warning.

JINX.

You and Jinx never planned on having a child, but somehow, fate (and maybe one particularly chaotic day) led you to adopt a little one you found on the streets of Zaun. According to her, "he was a potential ally of chaos."

Jinx is the fun mom who organizes “crazy drawing” competitions and probably lets the kid have ice cream before breakfast. She’s messy, but there’s no shortage of love or dedication.

When her child gets scared, Jinx surprisingly becomes calm. She knows how to comfort him with made-up stories and a soft hug, showing a more vulnerable side of herself.

She wants her child to grow up knowing that there’s nothing wrong with being different. She teaches him to be brave and creative, even if it means explaining later why the baby tried to “decorate” the house with explosive glitter.

[claramelooo]

Another day pampering you, my babies.

Enjoy it <3

MINORS DO NOT MUST INTERACT

Paring: Mommy Wanda x Brat fem reader

Warning: +18, humiliation and corruption.

Read here: Prologue | Part 1 - Predator | Part 2 - The Prey | Part 4 - The Spider

Summary: You find out what happens when you test Wanda's limits.

Velvet Chains

On Your Knees

The clock on your bedroom wall read 4 a.m., and you stared at the ceiling, lost in thought. The exhaustion of the day should have knocked you out, but instead, your mind insisted on replaying the moment you encountered Wanda in your living room. Her smile—so controlled, so dangerously kind—seemed etched into your memory.

She was unlike anyone you'd ever met.

You closed your eyes, trying to push away the warmth that crept up your body at the memory of how Wanda looked at you, hungry, as if she could see more than you were willing to reveal. But in doing so, another face surfaced in your mind.

Kate.

It was two years ago, during one of those suffocating summers. She was a temporary roommate, placed there because her dorm was being renovated. Her name was Kate, and you could never quite decide if you liked her or not. Kate was full of life, bold, with a mischievous smile that seemed to know all your secrets.

She teased you for weeks, mocking your shyness, challenging your seriousness. "You're so uptight," she would say, laughing, but there was something in her tone that felt... like an invitation.

When she finally leaned in and kissed you, it was soft and hesitant. You didn’t know what you were doing, but you followed an instinct you didn’t know you had, and for a few seconds, the world disappeared.

In that moment, as her lips brushed against yours, you felt something you had never felt before. It wasn’t just the natural nervousness of someone else’s touch; it was a heat, an electricity, something that spread through your veins like fire.

For a few seconds, the entire universe shrank to fit into that instant: the stars above, the warm summer breeze, the scent of mint on Kate’s breath, which seemed to mock you even as she kissed you.

But when she pulled away, laughing and wiping her lips like it was nothing, like it was disposable, something inside you broke. Not a small, harmless crack, but a deep rupture that left an echo.

You tried not to think about it in the weeks that followed. Tried to ignore how her touch lingered on your skin, how the sound of her laughter made you shiver even when she wasn’t around. You told yourself it was just a kiss, just a moment. But the words were hollow, devoid of the comfort you wanted to find.

The problem wasn’t Kate, not really. The problem was that kiss had pulled something out of you, something you had tried to hide at all costs. It was the silent acknowledgment that this was who you were, who you had always been, even if you had never dared to admit it.

And Kate knew. She knew and toyed with it because, to her, it was a game, a light joke to pass the time. But to you, it was everything.

You still remembered how she laughed the next day, saying how "maybe kissing girls wasn’t so different from kissing guys." You pretended to agree, forcing a smile that hid the turmoil inside you.

Now, years later, the memory still stung, but in a different way. It wasn’t just the pain of the moment anymore but the realization of how much it had shaped who you were now. Kate’s kiss showed you who you were but also reminded you of everything you couldn’t have.

Comparing Kate to Wanda now felt almost insulting. Kate was reckless and indifferent. Wanda, on the other hand, was... calculated. Where Kate wore charm like a mask, Wanda wielded it like a weapon.

But there was something else about Wanda that intrigued you: she made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way no one else ever had. When she spoke, her words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. She wasn’t the type to settle for less than what she wanted, and you knew that.

And that scared you.

The way Wanda looked at you, as if she were peeling back every layer of you with a single glance, was suffocating and electrifying. She was everything Kate never was: intense, determined, almost impossible to resist.

With Kate, you could pretend. Pretend the kiss meant nothing, that her laughter didn’t affect you, that your obsession was just a phase. Kate never realized the impact she had on you—or maybe she did, but it didn’t matter anymore.

With Wanda, it was a different story. There was no room for pretense with her. It was as if she saw through every lie, every attempt to hide what you felt, and that made you feel vulnerable in a way you never had before.

You couldn’t help but compare them, even though you hated to admit it. Kate played with you, treating your shyness like a harmless joke, but Wanda made a point of confronting you. Every word she said seemed carefully chosen to provoke you, to force you to react.

And you reacted.

It was inevitable. Her words stuck in your mind, echoing long after the conversation ended. It was as if she held a key to unlock doors inside you that you didn’t even know were locked.

With your thoughts racing, your alarm went off, making you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

Facing your reflection in the mirror, you started thinking about what to wear. Skinny jeans? An oversized sweater? A skirt? Your right thumbnail was already sore from biting it while you thought.

As you styled your hair, you realized something: Wanda didn’t just make you feel seen; she made you want to be seen, combing through your strands in different ways, wondering which one would catch her attention.

And maybe, just maybe, that’s what scared you the most. That you could want this. That Wanda could be the person to whom you finally surrendered completely.

You walked downstairs while trying to button the last button on your shirt, finding your dad sipping coffee from a mug that read “World’s Best Dad.”

"Who gave him that?" you thought, hiding a scornful smile. Clearly, they didn’t know your family dynamic.

Your dad noticed you and waved. “Good morning, dear. Your mother told me about your new job. I’m really glad you’re trying to be... normal,” he said, almost like a confession.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, even if he probably didn’t mean to be so cruel—or maybe he did. "Normal." That was the word your parents used for everything they expected from you but that never seemed to quite apply.

“Good morning, Dad,” you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral as you sat at the table.

“Normalcy is important, you know,” he continued, ignoring your attempt to end the conversation. “After everything... well, I think it’s good for you to have something to keep you busy. To distract your mind from... misguided thoughts.”

Your face flushed. The memory of Kate, the kiss, the words she whispered afterward, came rushing back, but you buried them quickly. This wasn’t the time. It wasn’t safe.

“It’s just a temporary job,” you said, focusing on the mug in front of you. “At the library.”

Your father frowned. “The library? Really?” He seemed confused, as if he couldn’t understand why anyone would work in such a... unexciting place.

“Yes,” you replied firmly. “It’s quiet and helps me focus on my studies.”

He pondered for a moment before shrugging. “Yale is still the goal, right? Don’t get lost in distractions.”

You nodded, but inside, the comment hit like a punch. Distractions. If he knew what was running through your mind—the thoughts you had when you were near Wanda—he would probably unravel.

Your mother entered the kitchen at that moment, holding a plate of toast, interrupting the conversation. “Darling, I hope you’re taking this seriously. Wanda is a very respectable woman. Don’t disappoint us.”

You swallowed hard at the weight of her expectations.

“Yes, Mom,” you said, keeping your expression neutral. “I’ll do my best.”

Your mother smiled approvingly, but there was something in her eyes, something critical, that made you want to shrink. “Good. We don’t want any more problems, do we? We’ve had enough for a lifetime.”

You knew exactly what she meant. They never spoke directly about what happened at the boarding school, but the silence was heavier than any words could be. To them, it was a stain, a flaw that needed to be corrected.

“I’ll try my best,” you replied, your voice low but firm.

When you finally left the house, the weight of the conversation still hung over you. But there was something else. Something at the back of your mind pushing you forward.

No matter what your parents thought or what they expected of you, there was a part of you that wanted more.

[...]

The library was empty when you entered, your footsteps echoing across the polished wooden floor. There was something almost comforting about the silence of the place, but that feeling vanished the moment you saw Wanda behind the counter, her gaze landing on you with surgical precision.

“Ah, my favorite student has arrived,” she said, her voice dripping with an artificial sweetness that sent chills down your spine.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself. “I didn’t know there was a ranking,” you replied, stepping closer with a challenging smile.

“Of course there is,” she replied, leaning slightly over the counter. Her posture was almost casual, but her stare was unyielding. “And you’re at the top... for now.”

“I’m flattered, coming from the saintly Wanda Maximoff,” you said, giving an exaggerated bow, your tone dripping with mockery. You refused to back down—not this time.

Wanda raised an eyebrow, her expression intrigued by your response. “I see you’re feeling braver today.”

“I didn’t realize courage was part of the curriculum for working here,” you retorted, moving closer and dropping your notebooks onto the desk with a soft thud.

She smiled, but there was something dangerous behind it, as though she was testing how far you would go. “It’s not, but considering your tone... perhaps it should be. And maybe you need a reminder of your place, Dekta.” Wanda’s gaze sharpened, her words a deliberate challenge.

You tilted your head, crossing your arms. “Oh. My place? I thought it was here in the library, working and studying. Or is there somewhere else you think I belong?”

You smiled inwardly, watching her jaw tighten—relishing the satisfaction of knowing you had rattled her, even if just a little.

Wanda stepped around the counter, her movements slow and deliberate, like a predator circling its prey. “Perhaps I need to spell it out for you. It seems you haven’t yet grasped how things work here.”

“Oh, please, enlighten me,” you replied, your voice laced with theatrical sarcasm, feeling heat rise up your neck.

She stopped directly in front of you, close enough that you could feel her breath—something faintly minty and cool. “I am the authority here. You’re under my supervision. That means you follow my rules.”

“Rules?” You raised an eyebrow, defiant. “Funny, because so far, all I’ve seen you do is try to intimidate me. Is that one of your ‘rules,’ Ms. Maximoff?”

Wanda’s smile faltered for a brief moment, and in her eyes, you caught a glimpse of something raw. Anger? Frustration? Something else?

She stepped even closer, her body almost brushing against yours. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”

Inside, you were panicking, but you held her intense gaze. “I don’t think, Wanda. I know.”

Her breath hitched for just a second before the shadow of a smile tugged at her lips.

“Do you have any idea how insufferable you’re being?” she asked, her voice low, her eyes strangely soft considering the tension in the air. “Because honestly, Dekta, I’m seriously considering putting an end to this right now.”

A chill ran down your spine, your hands trembling as you gripped the edge of the table in front of you. “End...?”

Wanda crossed her arms, her posture rigid. “The mentorship, the job. Everything. If you don’t know how to respect the person helping you, then maybe I shouldn’t waste my time.”

Suddenly, you felt the weight of your parents’ disapproving stares, heard the cruel words from your boarding school teachers, the bitter voice of Kate saying, “I hate you.”

“No!” The word burst out before you could stop it, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed to echo through the library. You tried to steady your voice, soften it. “Please, Wanda... Don’t do this.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing at you. “Why not? You seem to enjoy testing my limits, so maybe it’s time I put you in your place.”

Panic tightened your chest, and the conversation with your parents earlier replayed in your mind—the crushing weight of their expectations. Losing this wasn’t an option. “I need this job. Please, Wanda, I... I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful.”

She took a step closer, her face dangerously near yours. “If you really need it, Dekta, then prove it. Show me you understand what respect means.”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning as tears escaped before you could stop them. “How?”

Her lips curled into a cold, almost cruel smile. “On your knees.”

Your breath caught, your eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m sure you heard me perfectly well, Dekta,” she said, her voice unyielding. “If you want this mentorship and this job so badly, then get on your knees. Show me you know your place.”

The floor seemed to give way beneath you, the shock and humiliation burning your face. Every instinct screamed at you to walk away, but the weight of your circumstances was crushing. Your family, your plans—everything depended on this.

“Wanda, this is...”

“This is what?” she cut you off, her tone sharp. “Unfair? Inappropriate? I don’t care. Decide now, Dekta. Either you accept my conditions, or you walk out that door and explain to your parents why you always fail.”

Your throat tightened, and with trembling hands, you slowly sank down, feeling every fragment of your dignity slip away as your knees touched the cold library floor.

“Please,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Wanda tilted her head, her gaze scrutinizing you as if judging every fiber of your being. “Louder.”

“Please, Wanda, don’t take this away from me,” you repeated, your voice breaking as tears streamed down your face like a child’s.

She remained silent for a moment, her predatory stare never wavering. Then, finally, she stepped forward. “Clean my boots.”

With tears blurring your vision, you crawled toward her feet, feeling your pride shatter into pieces. Reaching her boots, you pulled a blue handkerchief from your pocket and wiped the perfectly clean leather.

“With your tongue,” Wanda commanded, her tone cold and unyielding.

You looked up at her, shock evident in your gaze, and there it was—that damn smirk playing on her lips.

Wanda watched you kneeling before her, and though her expression remained calm and composed, like a mask of serenity, the turmoil beneath was undeniable. There was something deeply intoxicating about the sight of your submission—something she couldn’t, or perhaps didn’t want to, control.

Every movement you made, every tear that fell, stirred something primal within her—a blend of power and desire that burned in a dark corner of her mind. It was more than she had imagined. The reality was infinitely more potent. You weren’t just a conquest; you were a masterpiece she was sculpting with words and gestures, shaping you to fit into the world she controlled.

And it excited her. Not just carnally but through the absolute power she felt, the control she had over every breath, every decision you made in that moment.

“Go on, pet. I don’t like repeating myself,” she said, her voice rougher now, which only made your mouth water.

As your tongue met the smooth leather, you swore you saw Wanda’s knees buckle ever so slightly.

“That’s a start. Now, get up and get back to work.”

You rose quickly, wanting nothing more than to escape her sight. Every movement was loaded with shame and resentment. As you returned to your desk, you could feel her eyes on you, and as much as you hated to admit it, a part of you knew she was savoring every moment of it.

The mid-shift was almost over, and Wanda remained where she was, her eyes fixed on you as you organized some books in the children’s section. She should feel guilty—she knew that. A part of her, buried under layers of rationalizations and desire, whispered that this was wrong. But she ignored that voice with frightening ease.

Everything about you was an intoxicating distraction for Wanda. The way you avoided eye contact, the small hesitations in your movements, even the nervous tremor in your voice—every detail was a reminder of the control she held over you, even if you hadn’t yet admitted it to yourself.

As you sat back down, trying to focus on your studies, Wanda moved silently to a nearby shelf, pretending to reorganize some books. But her eyes never left you. The way your fingers tapped on the table, the furrow of your brows as you concentrated—it was all incredibly captivating.

She couldn’t stop. It always started innocently enough: a stray thought here, a fleeting memory there. But inevitably, her mind returned to you. How would your face look if she touched you differently? If she pushed you further out of your comfort zone, how far would you go to please her?

This obsession was new, an intensity she had never experienced before—not even with Vision. He had never made her heart race like this, never ignited this voracious hunger for power and domination. With you, everything felt different—darker, more visceral, more... real.

Wanda knew she was crossing boundaries—not just yours, but her own. Yet there was something irresistible about the idea of shaping you, testing you, possessing you in ways no one else could. It was wrong, of course. And yet, she wondered: if this was wrong, why did it feel so perfectly natural?

When you tilted your head, biting your lip in concentration, Wanda gripped the book in her hands more tightly than necessary. The thought of making you bite that same lip because of her made her take a deep breath, trying to regain control.

But control was something Wanda wielded well—and you, unknowingly, were already caught in her web.

She rose from her chair, her palms damp and her eyes glued to your figure.

Wanda walked toward you with slow, deliberate steps, the wooden floor creaking softly under the heels of her boots. Her fingers brushed absentmindedly against the spines of books, but her gaze never wavered from you. There was something different in her eyes now—not just desire or authority but a veiled tenderness, a touch of something maternal that made your skin prickle.

She stopped beside you, leaning in just enough for her scent to envelop you. Your body tensed at her proximity, but you didn’t dare look up.

“You’re so focused,” Wanda murmured, her voice low and soft, almost comforting but laden with something deeper. “That’s good. But you’re gripping that pencil so tightly… You’ll end up breaking it.”

Your hands trembled as you realized she was right. You immediately loosened your grip, almost as if her words had a direct hold over you.

“There’s no need to push yourself so hard, you know?” she continued, her voice now a whisper that tickled your neck. “I’m here to take care of you. To guide you.”

“Wanda, what—” You tried to turn, but gasped as you felt her lips brush against your ear.

“You’re so young…” Her desperate whisper sounded almost like a moan, making you exhale sharply. “So innocent,” she murmured, almost to herself, as her fingers lightly traced a path along your cheek. “You need someone to show you the world, to teach you what really matters.”

You finally lifted your eyes to hers, confusion and vulnerability clear in your expression. Wanda smiled, but it wasn’t the smile you expected. It was softer, almost indulgent, like a mother looking at a child who had just made a silly mistake.

“I know what you need,” she said, leaning even closer, her lips almost brushing your ear. “And I can give it to you, but you have to trust me.”

There was something in her tone—a blend of sweetness and command—that left you speechless. Your hands gripped the sides of your folder, trying to anchor yourself to a reality that felt like it was slipping away.

“Do you trust me, Y/n?” Wanda said, her breath brushing against your lips, making you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. Your noses touched, and your eyes locked in some kind of trance.

The silence of the library amplified every stimulus, making Wanda’s presence all-encompassing. “Yes,” you whispered.

Wanda slowly pulled back, a faint smile playing on her lips, leaving her presence to dissipate like a receding wave. But her warmth, her touch, her words lingered.

“Now, get back to your studies,” she ordered gently, though her gaze made it clear this was no request. “And remember, my girl… I’m always watching you.”

~*~

She is not innocent

Tag List <3

@vyvvycg

[sourszt]

𝟏:𝟓𝟓 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — art the clown x gn!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 — fluff, art meets someone who isn’t scared of him, art goes to kill u but alas you are … autistic!reader, nonverbal!reader, lowkey a projection of me and how i regress/how art makes me regress lol, also a little theory as to how art gains strength/why he kills so relentlessly as a demon, not proofread!

a demon must feed off of fear. it’s how it gains strength and power. art was no different.

it was his luck that his appearance alone usually struck the fear of god into people. tall but lean in a black and white clown suit, sometimes stained with a strange red substance. face painted white, black outlining an eerily smiling mouth and wide blue eyes. at least, sometimes they were blue.

when he was knee deep into brutally slaughtering people, his eyes would go pitch black from excitement and because his strength was slowly doubling.

everyone who had the misfortune of knowing of his presence feared even his name. all except one.

he’d encountered many who feigned tolerance towards him, some even daring to embrace him before meeting the same fate as everybody else. because they reeked of the same fear as the rest. he could tell in the way they tried to steady their shaking hands, the way their eyes glazed over as they realized they had lost the fight.

but you. you.

you were different. he’d tracked you down after watching you walk home from a little neighborhood party, and he observed you for a couple of days. you lived alone, hardly touched your phone, typed and typed away on your computer with your glasses hanging onto the edge of your nose. completely indifferent to the rest of the world outside.

nobody would miss you. nobody even turned their heads towards your house as they walked by it.

so obviously nobody noticed when he slipped into your house that night. the inside was drab. nicely decorated but it still felt empty. perhaps you’d just moved in not too long ago.

when he found you in your bedroom, comfortably sleeping, he found that wasn’t quite the case. all of the decor, if you could call it that, was stuffed up in here. merchandise from several franchises were nailed, taped, displayed on every surface of your bedroom. sonic, ninja turtles, spiderman.

art stared at it. then at you. you were swarmed by stuffed animals, arms wrapped tightly around a particularly huge fuzzy stuffed sonic plush. the side of your face squished into it and you hummed in your sleep.

he set the garbage bag he had slung over his shoulder down and began searching for something to dismantle you with. the metallic clinks echoed in the room and seemed to wake you up when your muffled grunts became clearer and you began to stretch out your curled limbs.

it took you a while to notice him, but when you did you only blinked. art figured it was a shock response and gave you a taunting smile, baring ugly teeth. your eyebrows knitted together while you sat up, but still you said nothing. not even a scream.

art rose to his feet, towering over you even on your hip-high mattress. in his hand, he had a hefty tool that glinted in the moonlight. fear should have been radiating off of you by now, but that rush he was expecting never came. perhaps you thought you were dreaming.

but as your eyes scanned him from top to bottom, you seemed to accept it as reality. even as you reached out and gingerly tapped his bloodied, gloved hand with the tip of your finger. you didn’t question it.

art hesitated. but only because he doubted he would be strong enough to take your head off with one clean swipe. he wasn’t even close to half of his full strength yet. why was this taking so long?

you turned to the side, searching for something in the sea of stuffies you were haloed with just moments earlier. plucking a smaller one out of the heap, you offered it to the mysterious clown at the side of your bed. it was one of your lesser favorites because you didn’t want him to get it dirty with his white-stained-red gloves. a little fuzzy bee you got from a museum years back.

art pointed at himself, and you nodded with a gentle smile. you half thought that was what he wanted. some strange stuffed animal reaper.

he reached for it, and the cleaver in his hand hit the ground with a thud that made you flinch and cover your ears. almost instinctively, you leaned towards him.

you weren’t scared of the knife itself but the loud noise. art was baffled that somebody could look to him for protection. had you any idea who he was? the miles county clown, was the name every tv within a 50 mile radius was echoing daily because of him.

well, you probably actually didn’t. in the days he watched you, you neglected to turn on the news or scroll through social media. was that why you weren’t scared of him?

either way, his palm found the top of your head, awkwardly patting it with a force that told you he was also trying to push you away. you peered up at him with a straight lipped smile, and gently grabbed the wrist of the hand on your head. he tensed, shocked, but allowed you to flip his palm upwards, watching as you ran your finger over his red stained glove.

you spelled out your name, letter by letter, and pointed to yourself. you also couldn’t speak. or you couldn’t at the moment.

art could only tilt his head at you, genuinely frowning because his presence wasn’t scaring you shitless. he was more confused than anything else.

you gestured towards him and handed him your own palm. he was to etch his name onto your skin.

it took him a second to do it, letting his hand cradle yours while he dragged his finger across your palm. A-R-T.

registering the name, you nodded up at him. it was quite fitting for him, you thought.

the clown grinned and waved your own stuffed animal in front of your face before booping your nose with it. he found he liked the sound of your giggle, which brought him both comfort and unease.

you were sad when he left so quickly, dropping your stuffed bee into your lap and grabbing his garbage bag. he put a finger to his lips and wagged his fingers at you before retreating back into your hallway. the sound of your comforter shuffling made him pause and he found you bent over, picking his cleaver up off of your floor.

you sheepishly held the heavy handle out to him.

you were quite tall. still significantly shorter than him, but taller than he was expecting. wearing a slim fitting tank top and some athletic shorts. you even had some tattoos on your arms and on your thighs. things he hadn’t seen past your sweaters and jeans.

he took the cleaver and prepared to take his leave, but was stunned when you suddenly wrapped your arms around him. for a moment, he was the scared one. but he soon realized that you were only hugging him.

“thank you,” you whispered, so softly and shakily he almost missed it over the buzz of your electric fan. still, you held no fear of him.

you smiled when his arms briefly closed around you.

and then he was gone.

i love him sm 😞😞

[yanderefarm]

yandere vampire's pet

cw;; dehumanization?, blood, vampires, humans as pets, yandere, angst, suggestive

this is the last named and drawn oc i have ready. i still have two more concepts in my drafts but they're not finished yet.

this might not show his yandere tendencies as well as characters like ares or emil but he's more of a self destructive type. he's more likely to hurt himself for doing something wrong than he is likely to hurt someone for touching you.

also i had to include the vampire guilt and angst im only human (human with a guilt kink)

you're a vampire lord in a world run by vampires with a yandere human pet who you found in a run down human farm after he basically threw himself at you. who clung to your leg and insisted he tasted so sweet you wouldn't regret taking in. who you took pity on seeing his scarred neck and decided to take him with you home.

you fed him and brought him to full health in a year. on the anniversary he begged on his knees for you to make him your pet. you complied. you didn't expect the preservation procedure that would allow him to stay with you forever to mess up his brain. or maybe this was always his personality.

he begged you every day to feed on him. he would sneak into your bed chamber and cut his neck to wake you up. he would sit himself in your lap around noon and undo his shirt buttons to give you easy access. if you dared to refuse him he would cry and beg so pathetically.

you made him this way why didn't you want him? he would often cry until you feel guilty for destroying his humanity. you always gave into him. he always got clingier. he tried not to get in your way during work but one day you let him lay his head on your lap and sit in your office quietly all day. so you had to let him again the next day.

if he really pushed too far you would lock him in an old attic room. oh how he sobbed. you would open the door the next day to be met with his bloodshot eyes that held no light. he would kiss your shoes and cling to your legs while he spoke hoarse apologies. you always forgave him and carried him in your arms to eat breakfast.

on the occasions that you two went to a party held by your fellow vampire lords he would always try to show off. you'd buy him new clothes and a new ribbon to hide his old scars. he liked being the most beautiful arm candy for you. it wasn't unusual for high quality pets to get passed around at these parties. at the end of the night he would often find himself in a strange bed, dizzy from being bled and pathetically crying for you.

your dear pet had spent the whole night being ravaged while you were doing business. his naked and used body laying in the unfamiliar bed, barely conscious. you sighed as you sunk onto the bed, your added weight causing him to shift slightly but he made no noise. usually by now he would be sobbing and reaching wildly for you, those degenerates must have really worked him hard.

you reached out and played with a piece of his hair. "I'm sorry, you poor pathetic creature."

your cold lifeless hands gently brush against his warm cheek. his body finally shifts a little, instinctively pulling away from the cold. you can't help the sad smile that falls on your lips seeing that. you forget how cold you are with how he clings to you at every opportunity. you can smell his blood right now and the tug of your instincts tells you to feed. you forget that you're a monster with how he treats you with such adoration and reverence.

"your life would have been better if you never met me." you push his hair away from his neck, revealing the old scars with fresh wounds scattered among them. your fingers brush against his pulse and he gasps.

you watch his olive eyes blink open slowly, they look almost too heavy to open. you want to gently close them like one would a corpse but the wide smile that spreads across his face stops you. if your heart could still beat you're sure it would have skipped.

"good morning." you said softly.

he used all his remaining strength to wrap around your waist. "y/n..."

his voice is so hoarse and he sounds so exhausted but there's the undeniable happiness. you guide his head to your lap, cold fingers twirling around his hair again.

"was i good...?" his eyes blinked slow again.

"yes. you were so amazing again tonight." you felt the weight of guilt pressing against your chest.

"reward m'...~" you knew he was asking you to indulge in him as so many others had tonight so you just ignored him.

you gently gathered him up in your arms, the top sheet draping over his body. you grabbed his discarded ribbon off the bed before you began carrying him out. the ribbon was sat on his stomach and his weak hands fiddled with it idly. he seemed to be too deep in thought to let sleep overtake him again.

"master... 'm glad you made me...." he nuzzled his head against your chest.

"your father made you." you corrected as you approached your carriage.

"no... y'... made m' y'r pathetic creature." his eyes finally started to close. "so glad m' life is master's.."

[wondersinwaynemanor]

some scenarios of Damian using "animal" terms in his life.

Damian, holding Alfred the Cat, exits the kitchen: Going to full hibernation mode now.

Jason and Tim look at each other with raised brows.

Dick and Duke are holding their laughter.

Cass just stares at him.

Damian: If anyone dares to disrupt me, well, I'm going to hold it against all of you.

Bruce, smiles: Rest well, son.

Alfred, stands up to start with the dishes: Well, I hope you enjoy your hibernation, Master Damian. You care to have some tea and biscuits first?

everyone waits for his answer.

Damian, rolls his eyes: I shall have some first then.

Robin! Damian, fights some criminals: The flock is coming for reinforcements so I suggest you stand down.

criminals continue to fight with him until Goliath and Superboy! Jon swoop down to knock down the men.

Robin! Damian, smirks: If only you were wise enough.

Superboy! Jon, approaches Damain for a hug: Hey, Little Mouse.

Robin! Damian, raising his katana, growls: I already told you to stop with the pet names, Superboy!

Superboy! Jon, raises his hands in surrender: I'm innocent!

Robin! Damian: And what type of absurdity is the nickname: Little Mouse????

Superboy! Jon, shrugs his shoulders: What do you prefer? Kitten?

Robin! Damian growls like an angry kitten.

Superboy! Jon, smirks: Exactly my point.

Tim enters the Batcave and starts to open his mouth to say something to Damian.

Damian, by the batcomputer: Why are you wriggling in here, Drake?

Tim: Uh.... To work?

Damian, rolls his eyes: If you become a nuisance, you better just crawl your way of here.

Jason, enters out of nowhere: Offensive, Dami! I am the only one who gets to crawl. Like crawl my way out of the grave type of situation.

Tim and Damian groan in sync.

Robin! Damian, paces back and forth in front of the tied rogues to make a point: Pack of vermin, you all are! Don't you ever, ever, ever harm the people of Gotham!

the rest of the batfamily stand behind him to observe what he's going to do next.

Robin! Damian: We're taking you back to Arkham so you can scuttle back inside your cells and learn your lessons.

Robin! Damian, looks back to his family: Anyone else want to say anything?

Nightwing: What he said.

Red Hood, Spoiler and Signal shrug.

Red Robin is too busy looking at his device.

Black Bat just stares ahead.

Batman, in his deep, heavy tone: Now, let's gallop our ways back to Arkham.

the batfamily and rogues all stare at Batman.

[roseykat]

TITLE: Play Bite

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Jisung x female reader

SUMMARY: You, Hyunjin, and Jisung have a really fun time playing a dirty truth or dare game after the plans for everyone to go out failed. Part 1 to the 'Play' series.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSWF SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

Part 1 - Play Bite Part 2 - Play Fight Part 3 - Play Right

TAGS: Hyunjin, Jisung, and reader have all consumed alcohol but are not fully drunk, smut, kissing, hickies, making out, dirty texts, dirty talk, erotic truth or dares, use of pet names such as 'bub', 'baby' and 'pretty', swearing, food play (nothing heavy), solo orgasm, female masturbation, suggestive material, very vague mentions of choking (not emphasised), slight traces of top!Jisung.

MASTERLIST

A/N: Think of this as a prelude to this hard thought I posted a while ago. If you haven't read it, it will give you some context into what will come in the future for this type of concept. Also just to preface but not give away too many spoilers, nobody is cheating in this story.

-

“Remove one piece of clothing, socks do not count,” Jisung reads aloud from the card in his hand. 

It’s the third task into the deck of dirty truth or dare at Hyunjin's apartment. After the entire group’s plan to go out for the night fell through when it started pelting down, it was in all three of your guys’ best interests to not waste the night. So, although he invited the rest of the group over for drinks, only you and Jisung decided to go around. 

An hour later into the night and already just past the point of tipsy, the three of you progressed to playing games. A set of dirty truth or dare cards was the first thing that caught Jisung’s keen eye as he analysed the plethora of games that Hyunjin had on a shelf in his living room. 

“You’re not even wearing socks, so you have no choice,” Hyunjin chuckles, almost evilly.

Jisung dons his best thinking face, eyes narrowing as he tries to come up with which item of clothing he wants to take off. He grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls the entire fabric up and over his head before placing it beside him, careful not to knock over his drink. 

Your eyes glue to his gorgeous bare top half for a few seconds too long before averting them to the floor like you weren’t supposed to look at him. It’s not like you’ve never seen him topless before in all of his honey toned glory. Almost always will Jisung proudly walk around half naked unprovoked when you’re around him. 

“Your turn bub,” he continued.

You clear your throat then lean over to pick a card up from the middle, then read it out loud, “oh…”

“What’s it say?” Jisung peeks his head over to see what’s written down before his jaw unhinges. “Let the person to your left select an area of your body for them to give you a hickey. Wow.”

Hyunjin, to your left, stares back at you in shock and horror. His cheeks were ballooned and full of liquid after taking a large swig of his drink before setting it down. The more silent seconds that tick by, the more flips his stomach keeps doing. But, he had to expect the unexpected with this game.

You and Jisung were ready to play by the rules and Hyunjin wasn’t going to exempt himself from it just because of the card you pulled. 

He swallows the mouthful of alcohol, “alright. Are you okay with me doing this?”

You nod even though you can feel your heart picking up its pace, “I am.”

He takes your answer and runs with it then ponders on the best place to plant a hickey on your body. It doesn’t take him long to think of a number of unspoken places where he would and even though he’s tipsy enough to disclose those areas, he decides to keep that to himself. 

“Okay, can you lie down for me then?” He asks. 

“Lie down?”

“Mm, otherwise it might be awkward to reach,” he explains vaguely. 

You start jumping to conclusions at the instant you hear his request, yet your mind is so hazy that your body just ends up listening to what Hyunjin has asked of you instead. You end up lying back on the floor, your head next to Jisung’s thigh who looks down at you while Hyunjin moves. 

His long body straddles yours but not fully putting his weight down on you. With his hand, he pulls back some of your hair so he can reach the area he wants before gently tilting your chin up and to the side towards Jisung. 

Hyunjin then sinks his face down just to the side of your throat and sucks. For a second, your body squirms at the slight achy pang that he brings to the surface of your skin. Still, with the way that your body is buzzing, it undoubtedly feels amazing. He remains there for a few seconds and uses his tongue to swipe over the surface he just marked.  

Jisung watches with his mouth ajar. He takes in the contorted look of concentration on your face, the way your eyelids flutter closed. 

It’s not long after until Hyunjin peels himself off of you then takes your hand to help you sit back up again. In hindsight, you wonder if it was all but necessary to lie down for him in order to give you a hickey. But Hyunjin’s thinking was that to reach your throat, you had to be on the ground. 

“That might’ve been-“ his face contorts with worry just looking at the fresh, deep and reddish mark. “A bit much, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” you respond, trying to act cool under the pressure. “It felt nice anyway. Okay, Hyunnie’s turn.” 

He draws another card, reading it in his mind before his eyes dart to Jisung, “make out…with the person beside you for one minute.”

“W-Which side?” You ask. 

“My left which is-“

“Me,” Jisung responds, pointing at his chest. “Alright then.”

Hyunjin stares blankly at his friend, unsure if he's joking or not, “wait, you’re…you’re serious?”

Jisung shifts his body closer to Hyunjin, his face nearing him, “that’s the game right?”

“Y-Yeah,” he replies sheepishly. “Yeah, okay then.”

“I can set a timer,” you announce.

He’s never done this before - kissed a friend, made out with a friend. For one, Hyunjin knows Jisung has done so multiple times, having been an impartial witness to it. Whether it was while Jisung was drunk, sober, high, it happened. Even with the same gender. 

“Alright,” you say, pulling out your phone as you go to the clock app to set a timer for one minute and place it on the ground. “3, 2, 1, go.”

You’re not sure who it was first that leaned in for the kiss after being so warped by the fact that they were even doing this. It was like Hyunjin offered his mouth and Jisung went for the kill. Both of them started off slowly by the time ten seconds hit. Twenty seconds in and Hyunjin’s hand comes up to the side of his friends’ face when the kiss deepens even further. 

You watch the glide of their tongues move so languidly with one another, doing unspeakable things in between your legs. Similar to Jisung’s reaction when Hyunjin gave you a hickey, your mouth was on the floor. There’s no way in hell could you ignore how hot it was to see them make out. 

After forty seconds, the pace had picked up a notch as they continued to move in sync with one another. Jisung’s hand had made it onto Hyunjin’s lap with some unintentional plan of slowly hiking up his thigh. In his mind, the more touch, the better. He already felt floaty because of the alcohol. Now Jisung touching him, kissing him, was an enhancement. 

At the mark of one minute, your phone rudely blares its alarm. Hyunjin pulls away with red lips, Jisung’s as equally as glossy as the other. They stall for a second, almost as if they briefly thought about going back at it again…

“Minho was right,” Jisung breaks the silence willingly. “You are a pretty good kisser.”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaims, his eyes almost popping out of his head. 

“What?” He whines. “He and I were trying to figure out who in the group would be the best kisser. Minho reckons you are.”

“You say that as if you’ve kissed everyone in the group to try and find that out,” You realise. 

“Well I just kissed him, so it’s everyone except for you now. Which there’s still time for since it’s my turn now,” he responds in a slightly hopeful tone and picks up his next card. “Huh, maybe not - what’s the most amount of times you’ve had sex in one day?” 

“Is that the first truth question?” Hyunjin points out, trying to subtly keep himself calm after what just went down with Jisung. 

“I think so,” you reply. “We’re nowhere near halfway through the deck.” 

“Three and a half,” Jisung answers. 

“And a half?” You and Hyunjin parrot in unison, the confusion very present in both of your tones.

“Halfway through the act, got caught, had to wrap it up and leave,” Jisung explains very succinctly. “It would’ve been four if it weren’t for fucking Seungmin. Doesn’t matter, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything.”

“Sure,” you trail off, trying your best not to laugh at his misfortune while you go to pick up a card. “Uh, lend your phone to the person on your right and let them send a dirty text to someone in your contacts.”

Jisung claps excitedly, “hand it over baby!” 

You roll your eyes, reluctantly passing him your device, “anyone except my family otherwise I probably won’t live to see another day.” 

He takes your phone earnestly with a cheeky and devious expression before delving righteously into your contacts list, “don’t worry, I wouldn’t do anything like that.”

Jisung’s thumb scrolls excitedly trying to find the right person to send the right message to. He pauses over a couple of names and then finds one he thinks will give the most entertaining response. He creates a new message and types in what he wants to say.  

From You: I’m horny. Come over and fuck me.

The silence was palpable as the fate of your dignity rests in your friends’ hands. Once the message is sent, Jisung keeps your phone on standby while you all wait for the response. The sheer riskiness of the dare calls for you to pick up your drink and finish the rest off, knowing that you’re going to need it. 

“What did you write?” You ask him anyway, setting your empty glass aside. 

He looks smugly at the screen again and repeats what he created, “I’m horny, come over and fuck me.”

Your eyes widen in horror, “t-that’s not…who did you send that to!?”

“That’s a bit straightforward isn’t it?” Hyunjin laughs. 

“Doesn’t matter now, your turn, go,” Jisung nods to you.

“Fine,” you groan, snatching up a card. “How many times a day do you get off? Once, maybe twice. Done. Next, you go.” 

Hyunjin blinks in surprise at the information you so rapidly provided and leans into the circle to grab his card, “alright. Choose one person to sit in between your legs for the remainder of the game.” 

“I think considering that he and I just made out, it’s your turn to do something now,” Jisung smoothly contends his point before you could even get a word out. 

“Fair enough,” you respond coolly.

The move is practically childsplay in comparison to what they’ve done so far. Nonetheless, it quickly proved itself to be rather effective on your body. 

Hyunjin tries not to grin and spreads his legs for you to slot perfectly in between them. You’ve been this close to him before - in a hug at least. But never has Hyunjin been as acutely intimate with you as of right now. As he’s pressed up behind you, it’s hopeless to try not to be so affected by such subtlety. The warmth from his body glows like a heater onto your back and the steadiness of his breathing is comforting. 

“Sungie’s turn,” he says from behind you. 

Another card is taken from the deck and Jisung reads once more, “feed someone a food item with your mouth. Okay, but what kind of food?” 

“There’s that bowl of grapes just there on the coffee table,” Hyunjin points over to it. 

Jisung spins around on the floor and sees the assortment of snacks that they had laid out on the table earlier on. He turns back with the entire silver bowl in his lap, popping a couple of them in his mouth and eating away to his heart's content before proceeding with the dare. 

“You’re breathing heavy,” Hyunjin whispers teasingly in your ear while Jisung isn’t looking. 

“S-Shut up,” you utter back to him, trying not to act so utterly embarrassed by the truth he’s managed to highlight. 

Jisung pops in two more grapes and goes to sit beside you before talking with his mouth full, “bo’ o’ ya.”

“Huh?” Hyunjin retorts, trying to decipher what his friend is saying. 

You ponder for a second, “I think he said both of us?” 

Your guess comes up as correct because without a proper verbal answer from Jisung, his actions spoke louder. He leans towards your face first - closer than it has ever been since you’ve known him. The purple grape sits between his teeth as he goes to pass it to you by his mouth. It was awkward to manoeuvre at first, but the pair of you discovered that using your lips is key. By that point, Jisung manages to exchange the fruit as you crush down on the grape that explodes with such a sweet flavour. 

Then, he moves a bit behind you to reach Hyunjin. Both of them struggle to pass the grape without fully touching each other's lips once more. Then again, that was the point of the card that Jisung pulled. 

“Yummy?” he asks, sliding back to his original spot with the bowl. 

“Mm,” Hyunjin hums while he chews. “Sweet.” 

Half of the stuff that you’ve done so far with them makes you realise that you’re not that nervous to do these kinds of things. It could’ve been the alcohol, that definitely helps. But also because they’re two of your best friends and wherever they are, you feel safe in their proximity. 

“My turn,” you say as Jisung picks the top card off of the deck and slides it to you across the floor. “Oh - same as Sungie’s, remove a piece of clothing, socks do not count. Isn’t this just a forfeit card since it’s already been picked up?”

“No, not necessarily?” Hyunjin answers. “Plus, what if you forfeit that one and pick another one but it’s worse?”

He had a good point. It was a very mellow dare in comparison to the others you’ve all completed. With that in mind, your hands find their way down to your shorts, contemplating whether to take them off or not. Considering Jisung already has his top off, you went for the opposite in a sudden spur of confidence that was short lived when you saw the look on your friend's face. 

Jisung’s eyes couldn’t leave where your hands moved as you freed your legs from the fabric, allowing you to remain in your underwear. However, it becomes very apparent to you that taking your pants off wasn’t such a good idea when you know that you’re wet. Whether they knew it, particularly Jisung who had a full view of you, was too late. 

Behind you, Hyunjin was trying to keep himself calm as you moved around a bit, “w-who’s turn is it now?” 

Jumping onto a different topic gave time for Jisung to blink away from your body. He feels guilty for even staring at you like that in the first place. Then again, it’s not like you weren’t doing the same ever since he took his shirt off. 

“Yours actually,” you answer and without any spatial awareness whatsoever, you lean forward just a bit to pick up a card for Hyunjin that your ass slightly pushes back into his crotch in the process. 

After the fact of the matter, you realise what you’ve done. But it wasn’t intentional. You just wanted to pick up a card for him so that he didn’t have to move from behind you. As you come back to sit between his legs properly, you feel his forehead rest against the back of your head - a silent sign to prove he definitely recognised what you did to him.

Although he didn’t say anything because what was there to say to that? In hindsight, it might’ve been better forJisung to just read it out for Hyunjin. 

“H-Here,” you offer the card to him, playing it off. 

He lifts his head back up from yours and takes the item, “what is your dirtiest fantasy and why?” 

Right now if Hyunjin was able to answer honestly, he would say ‘fucking you while his best friend watches.’ But even for a filthy game that they’re playing, he thought it would be inappropriate to say. On top of that, it’s not actually his dirtiest fantasy. He could do way worse but just doesn’t know what at this point in time in his sex life. There was still time for him to explore…

“I haven’t really got one at the moment,” says Hyunjin. “I suppose just real…rough sex.” 

Jisung immediately becomes intrigued, oblivious to the fact that Hyunjin had it in him to admit such a scandalous piece of information, “what does that mean to you though?”

He becomes even more flustered under the heat of his friends’ question, it doesn’t help that he’s nearly fully hard behind you either, “it means things like…choking or hair pulling-”

“What…you like to do those things or those things being done to yo-

“Both, I like both. Anyway, that’s not the question,” Hyunjin interrupts impatiently. “Just move on.” 

It’s difficult for you not to laugh at him, yet as you go to pick up a card - more carefully this time for Hyunjin’s sake - your smile fades quicker than you could blink. Not one doubt crossed your mind about how obscene this game could get. Yet this card refuted all of that. 

“I…get…get yourself off in front of someone,” you mumble in a very quiet voice.

“Get what?” Jisung tries to reiterate. 

Hyunjin’s brows knit in concentration as he reads the card from over your shoulder, “she has to get herself in front of someone.”

An ‘o’ forms in Jisung’s mouth before he responds to that statement, “that’s a…an interesting card.” 

The three of you fall deathly silent to the weight that the dare has you under. Your mind wants you to do it, to satiate that instinctual appetite to pleasure yourself ever since the game heated up. To do so in front of your friends doesn’t appear to be a bad idea which technically it isn’t from the way they already have you unintentionally wet. That in itself said a lot.

Therefore, you spread your legs and bend your knees. 

An expression of realisation washes over Jisung, coming to grips with what’s about to unfold. As for Hyunjin, he can only sit and remain in place as a support for you to lean against when your hand slips down the front of your underwear as you begin to rub. A sigh of warm relief then pushes past your lips. The pads of your fingers collect your damp essence to use as you circle over your clit. 

Already, a hefty volume of pressure is escalating in the pit of your tummy, tingling and spreading throughout your lower half. All from being turned on by the game. The person in front of you and behind you feel the exact same way except the one behind you was already there a long time ago. Their cocks fill out against the inside of their thighs and Hyunjin is positive that you can feel him through his pants. 

“Y/N,” Jisung says. “Does that make you feel good?”

“Jisung,” Hyunjin warns him sharply, not wanting his friend to fuel the fire that’s burning. 

“Mm, y-yes,” you stutter, breath catching at the base of your throat the more you try and push yourself towards an edge. 

It could be better though. It could be the pair of them groping and teasing your body at their will. You know that they both know how to use their mouths with the way that they made out earlier on. Not to mention from the grapevine, you’ve heard about Jisung too; how he knows how to eat pussy. Then you have Hyunjin, who just exposed his fantasy of liking having rough sex. The possibilities with his ideas would be endless and fun. 

With the pair of them, you don’t think you would ever run out of orgasms. Just thinking about it makes your fingers speed up, becoming increasingly more wetter. Your muscles jerk every now and then when you inch closer to the tail end of your orgasm, which causes you to unintentionally move against Hyunjin’s crotch once more. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin breathes out against you. 

“Don’t touch her,” Jisung snaps. “This is her dare.”

“I-I’m not fucking touching her,” he presses back madly, then mutters just to himself as he hides behind you. “Can’t help it Jisung.”

“K-Keep watching…” you plead. “So…close.” 

Hyunjin’s nails are digging deep into the carpet beneath him and his restraint not to touch you teeters dangerously on the last millimetre of a cliff. He’s throbbing, achingly hard. For you. Jisung can see his friends' knuckles turning white but he understands. He too remains hard in his sweats, which was obvious to you. Even just the slight outline that you can see indicates to you that he’s big.

Your mind starts wondering what that sort of length would do to your body, how would it feel to have inside of you? As you ask yourself those questions, you try to imagine that sensation when you start fingering yourself. 

You whimper pathetically, curling over that sweet spongy spot, “yes, feels so good. Makes me wanna cum…” 

“Yeah? Gonna cum in front of us?” Jisung eggs you on. “Gonna make yourself cum just for us?

Your dozy eyes lock with him just for a few seconds before you nod against Hyunjin’s body, “j-just for you both.” 

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin squeezes his eyes tight shut, gritting his teeth so much that his jaw aches. 

As that familiar euphoric bliss catches up to you, a silent scream paints over your face while your eyelids clamp shut and your eyebrows are furrowed together, focusing on the pleasure. For a moment, you’ve forgotten that Hyunjin is behind you as you can’t help but shiver helplessly against his body from the waves of your orgasm. Quiet yet very audible moans ring throughout Hyunjin’s apartment, making themselves known as you gradually come down with heavy gasps. 

“Holy shit,” Jisung murmurs in awe, he can see that you’ve soaked through your underwear. 

The large wet and sticky patch makes him want to lurch forward, tear the piece of clothing from your body and taste you for himself. To have his face buried in between your legs would be the Atlantis of his own fantasy right now, to have you use his mouth and tongue until you’re cumming all over again. 

In the moments of quiet when the still air is filled with nothing but your staggered breathing and depleted whimpers as you try to collect yourself, your phone buzzes on Jisung’s thigh - the reply to the dirty text he sent from earlier on.

He looks down at the glowing bright screen and his jaw drops to the floor once more. His mind sobers quickly.

From Chan to You: Again? Still horny from this morning? Alright then, I can come over and give you what you need x

There was no way.

I strictly forbid and do not permit anyone or any user to copy, re-upload, translate, remake, or pass off any of my work here on Tumblr to any other social media platform whatsoever. Doing so will result in having your account suspended, deleted, taken down, and or permanently banned.

[lady-ashfade]

Other skin: Yandere!Characters reaction to a female demon slayer landing on you.

Plot: They watch a woman fall on you and her…chest is in full view in front of your eyes, and she flirts with you.

Reader: imagined female but no pronouns.

Notes: I just thought of Tegan and his wives reactions and I got excited, I love jealous yanderes.

Characters: Tengen & Makio, Suma and Hinatsuru, Mitsuri Kanroji, Sanemi Shinazugawa.

Disclaimer: I have not read the manga so most of the reactions are based on the show and fics I have read. So please forgive the inaccuracy.

The place was filled with other demon slayers from all types, sizes and skills that varied from race or religion. It was unlike anything you had seen before and the couple related in that way, this was something special. The lovers watched you closely as soon as you came into view to keep you safe and sound, but let you explore for just a few before wanting to smother you.

So their eyes followed you as you greeted people or looked at the decorations around, even the food tables with happiness in your eyes. They were taking amongst themselves at how cute you looked with such a innocent sparkle in your eyes. But soon they watched you get tackled to the ground unexpectedly, not watching anything else but you so it slipped their sight. The couple rushed over quickly, Tengen was the first to get there.

You groaned at the impact you took and your head ached. Weight pressed on your chest and it made you open you eyes slowly with the pain still in your head. But unlike meeting a face you were meet with a woman’s cleavage in front of you at eye level. Your face heated up quickly and eyes getting wide, you snapped your head up to the woman’s eyes. “Oh? What a lovely expression.” Her lips curled in a smirk as she ran her tongue across the outline, her tone smug and confident.

“Don’t get embarrassed, makes me wanna eat you up.” Her hands pressed harder onto you and you only got more flustered. Her hips sat on yours and everything about what was happening was too much to process.

Suma was terrified at first of how you could have hurt yourself, then as she got closer she saw the woman onto of you. She teared up quickly at how she got to be on top of you, how she pressed into your skin. She cried for her to get off of you. Makio of course was scared of you getting hurt but she was more angry to yell at the person, knowing the others would check you first so she could handle the bitch. But, when she saw your eyes meet her chest…She was pulling out her weapons quickly, how dare the woman take advantage of you? Hinatsuru was of course just like suma, but over all just very scared for you. Had your head took a big hit or how was your back and body? She was in motherly mood. Just like the other girls she got jealous of the woman, her perfect baby must be so scared right now.

Tengen was pissed from the get go, how dare someone crash into somone as fragile as you? Being a harisha he had speed, so he got there first to witness what the woman said. His eyes twitched and he had to refrain himself from slicing the woman’s head off. His aura was filled with rage he looked like a monster. He noticed how she pressed her body closer to you, her hands on your chest, flirted with you and got you shy.

“Come one, tell me your name?” She took her hand off your chest and went to touch your face but her wrist was grabbed in a death grip. Both of you looked up to see tengen looking at her with a smile that sent shivers down your spine. “They are off limits to the likes of you.” He flashed a toothy grin and threw her hand to the side, next thing you knew was being picked up into the air and his arms around you. The woman landed on the ground with a annoyed, “And who are you?”

A gasped left your lips when you saw a fist hit her cheek and quickly took notice it was Makio who punched her. The two other woman pulled her back and screamed it was enough as she tried to go after her. The woman got up quickly and dusted herself off and walked off quickly, leaving all of you behind with a stomp in her step. “Leave it.” Tengen ordered and they stopped and obeyed his orders.

Suma came over and cried about how she was sorry the woman got to close. “She wasn’t even that pretty, how could she touch you like that?” She was so jealous. Makio crosses her arms and slightly yelled at you for looking at her, or how you didn’t try and get away from her. “She was a hag, how could you blush like that? Its pathetic.” She was still fuming at the thought of you looking at another woman. Hinatsuru checked you for bruises or cuts, any signs of harm she could have done to you. “Did she hurt you? What a horrible person, look at you. So shook up, don’t worry she’s gone.”

You couldn’t leave their side the rest of the night, no matter how you tried. It took so long to convince tengen to put you down. They hated not being there for you, it only pushed them closer to taking you away…

Mitsuri hated leaving you alone even for a second, the thought of someone else hurting you or something happening to you. She couldn’t handle the thought. But now she lost you in a crowded market place and she panicked at the lose of your hand in hers, that she forced you to hold, and had no sight of you. Her voice got lost in the sound of so many others, she pushed through the people and looked for you but kept getting pushed back.

This was supposed be a fun day were she could spend every second with you and she wouldn’t look suspicious. She could hold your hand, be close to you, keep you in her sight and blame it on the worry of losing you. But now she saw her mistake on taking you here, she shouldn’t take you on busy days or anywhere this big.

Making it passed the crowd she took a deep breath and searched around for you. When she saw your outfit and a woman on top of you she froze in place. Another woman touching you, sitting on your lap, getting to be so close. It made her see red. She saw you blush at the sight of her chest and wondered if you’d blush like that if it was her.

“Tell me your name cutie.” Her voice sounded so sensual and it only made it worse. Mitsuri was inches away now and glaring at the woman, wanting to tackle her to the ground and away from you. But she smiled like she aways does and appeared next to the woman’s face with a huge smile. “Mind getting off them? I’m sure they don’t appreciate it.” Her cheery tone and smile didn’t match her energy at all, and you knew her well to notice.

“And who are you? This one’s mine?” Mitsuri took a moment of staring at the woman to giggling, making you both confused. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear, I wasn’t asking.” The weight disappeared off your body as Mitsuri kicked the woman off of you and sent her rolling away. You stared in shook as her expression didn’t change from a sweet one. “This one will never belong to the likes of you.” She pulled you up and gripped ahold of your waist and pulled you close to her.

“I’ll make sure of that..”

He’s always dragging you away from others and doesn’t care what gender they are, if they aren’t him? Then they don’t deserve your time. So it’s hard to get a chance away from him since he doesn’t let you out of sight while he’s around. He sees you as something everyone should want, but you can’t fight them because you’re weak. (Even if you’re a demon slayer or a harisha, he doesn’t care)

He was coming back from a mission and waited for your presence and he looked around the butterfly mansion for you. He missed you in every way, to your smell to your smile and how you made him feel calm but so many other strong emotions. When he opened the door he found something that he couldn’t comprehend. He felt so many things that he stopped working for a minute.

A unknown woman straddling you and her chest in full view in front of your face, her body presses up against you. The look on your face was enough to show that you were embarrassed and flustered, how you tensed up. He is the one to get straight to the point and wouldn’t care who she was. She was coming off of you.

He walked over with the most calm expression and didn’t make a sound, only his footsteps could be heard. You noticed him first and got scarred at his expression. He didn’t say anything as he took a fist full of her hair and dragged her off of you, throwing her to the ground and standing in front of you.

“It’s considered disrespectful to touch something that doesn’t belong to you. They, are mine and I should kill you.” He laughed and got his grin, his fire coming back. “I’ll give you five seconds before you see why harishas are the highest rank.” She run out the door quickly and left without a peep. Then his attention was on you and you got a sick feeling in your stomach.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He kneeled and got close to your face, “Did she touch you worse then what I saw?” Stuttering you explain what had happened and how it was a accident but he didn’t truly by it. Or he believed your intentions but not hers.

“If I see something like that again you’re getting punished as well,” he took ahold of your chin and yanked you forward. “Understand? No one touches you but me.” You had no choice but to agree.

She was reported dead in a week.

[hannie-roses]

Am I just a bet to you?

Pairing: mingi x fab¡Reader

Sypnosis: Mingi, the school’s notorious playboy, has charmed every girl except Y/N, the one who won’t give him the time of day. When his friends San and Hongjoong dare him to make her fall for him in two months, he’s confident it’ll be an easy win. But as Y/N proves to be more than a challenge, Mingi starts to question if this bet might cost him more than he bargained for her heart.

Details: towards the end it gets CRAZY and I mean, slut calling. Hair grabbing, choking, gagging,head pushing, praise, degradation, oral giving and receiving. AFTER CAREER Use of the pet names daddy, princess, sir,good girl. BONDAGE! Dominant¡mingi submissive¡Y/N ROUGH sex. But it will ease into that.

Word count: 24.9k

The cafeteria buzzed with noise as Mingi leaned back in his chair, lazily picking at his fries while San and Hongjoong debated the best ways to sneak out of detention.

“I’m telling you,” San said, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food, “the trick is to fake being sick. Nobody wants to deal with a kid puking in the hallway.”

Hongjoong snorted. “Or you could just not get detention in the first place.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” San shot back, grinning.

Mingi, tuning out their banter, let his gaze wander around the room until it landed on Y/N sitting with her best friend, Chloe, across the cafeteria. Something about her unbothered attitude caught his attention, and before he could think better of it, he blurted out, “I bet I can make that Y/N girl fall in love with me.”

San froze mid-bite, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Mingi. “Nah, no you can’t.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, a slow grin spreading across his face. “If you think you can, prove it. Two months. Make her fall for you.”

Mingi smirked, already accepting the challenge in his mind. “Two months? Easy.”

San shook his head. “You’re gonna crash and burn, man.”

“Watch me,” Mingi said confidently, but as Y/N laughed at something Chloe said across the room, for the first time, he wondered if this might not be as easy as he thought.

“Alright, two months,” Hongjoong said, leaning back with a sly grin. “But let’s make it interesting. If you win, San and I buy your lunch for the rest of the year. If you lose, you’re buying ours.”

“Deal,” Mingi said without hesitation, his smirk unwavering.

San shook his head, clearly unconvinced. “You don’t even know anything about her. She’s not like the other girls you’ve messed with. She’s… I don’t know, different.”

“Different how?” Mingi asked, leaning forward with mock curiosity.

“She’s smart, for one,” San said, emphasizing the word. “And she’s not interested in guys like you. She doesn’t care about status or charm. You’re not her type.”

Mingi scoffed. “Everyone has a type, San. They just don’t know it until I show them.”

Hongjoong laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so full of yourself, it’s almost impressive.”

As they spoke, Y/N got up from her table with Chloe, walking past them on the way to the trash cans. She didn’t spare Mingi a glance, completely unaware of the wager she had just become the centerpiece of.

San nudged Mingi. “There she goes. Better start planning, Casanova.”

Mingi watched her walk away, a challenge flashing in his eyes. “Oh, I don’t need a plan. Just watch she won’t even know what hit her.”

Meanwhile, across the cafeteria, Chloe rolled her eyes as Y/N recounted her frustration with the latest group project in history class.

“He’s so annoying,” Y/N said, dropping her tray into the bin. “It’s like he’s trying to be the loudest person in the room every time we’re in class.”

Chloe followed, smirking. “Let me guess: Mingi?”

Y/N groaned. “Who else? He thinks he’s God’s gift to the school.”

Chloe shrugged. “To be fair, a lot of people seem to agree.”

“Well, not me,” Y/N said firmly. “I can’t stand guys like him.”

Chloe grinned knowingly but said nothing, falling into step beside her. “Let’s see how long that lasts,” she muttered under her breath.

“What?” Y/N asked, glancing at her.

“Nothing,” Chloe said with an innocent smile.

After school, Mingi stood by the lockers, scrolling through his phone while waiting for San and Hongjoong. His eyes darted up when he saw Y/N walking down the hallway, books tucked under her arm, Chloe beside her.

“Showtime,” Mingi muttered under his breath.

San and Hongjoong appeared out of nowhere, flanking him like bodyguards. “You’re really going for it now?” San asked, eyeing Y/N warily.

“Why not?” Mingi smirked, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Time to work my magic.”

As Y/N and Chloe approached, Mingi stepped into their path, his trademark grin firmly in place.

“Y/N, right?” he said casually, leaning against the lockers like he had all the time in the world.

Y/N stopped, her brow furrowing as she glanced at Chloe before looking back at him. “Yeah… and you’re Mingi.”

“Wow, she knows me already,” he teased, his voice dripping with charm. “I’m flattered.”

Y/N’s expression didn’t budge. “You’re loud. It’s hard not to know who you are.”

Chloe snickered softly, trying to hide her amusement.

Mingi’s grin didn’t falter. “Fair enough. But I figured it’s about time we actually talk. You know, get to know each other.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why not?” Mingi shot back smoothly. “You seem interesting. Different.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her tone flat. “I’m not interested in being another girl on your list, if that’s what you’re aiming for.”

The comment caught him off guard for a second, but he quickly recovered, his smirk returning. “Who said you’re on a list? I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“Right,” Y/N said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “Well, thanks for the… friendly effort, but I’m good.”

With that, she stepped around him, Chloe following closely, though she glanced back at Mingi with an amused look.

San let out a low whistle. “Ouch. That didn’t go as planned.”

Hongjoong clapped Mingi on the back, grinning. “Guess you’re not as smooth as you thought.”

Mingi watched Y/N disappear down the hallway, determination sparking in his eyes. “This is just the beginning,” he said, more to himself than to them. “She’ll come around. They always do.”

Meanwhile, as Y/N and Chloe walked outside, Chloe couldn’t hold back anymore. “That was hilarious. Did you see his face?”

Y/N sighed. “I don’t get why he’s wasting his time on me. He has literally every other girl throwing themselves at him.”

Chloe shrugged. “Maybe he likes the chase. Or maybe he’s just bored.”

“Well, he can stay bored,” Y/N muttered. “I’m not playing his game.”

Chloe smirked, nudging her. “We’ll see about that.”

Y/N and Chloe walked side by side on the way home, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. Chloe twirled her water bottle idly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“So… what’s your deal with guys?” Chloe asked casually.

Y/N gave her a sideways glance. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, every time a guy so much as says hi to you, you shut him down like they’re trying to sell you something. What’s up with that?” Chloe asked, a playful but curious tone in her voice.

Y/N sighed, shifting her books in her arms. “It’s not like that. I just don’t have the energy for all the drama that comes with it. Guys like Mingi? They’re all the same charming until they get what they want, and then they move on. Why waste my time?”

Chloe raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you’ve been burned before.”

“I’ve seen it happen to too many people,” Y/N replied, her voice firm. “If a guy really wants to know me, he’s going to have to prove he’s not just playing around.”

Chloe nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But what if someone’s actually serious about you? Would you give them a chance?”

Y/N hesitated, her steps slowing. “Maybe. But I’m not holding my breath. It’s easier to focus on things I can control, you know?”

Chloe grinned. “Well, if nothing else, watching you deal with Mingi is going to be my new favorite pastime.”

Y/N groaned. “Don’t encourage him. He’s probably already planning his next move.”

The next day, Y/N walked into school, her earbuds in and her focus on her playlist. She didn’t notice Mingi waiting near her locker until he stepped into her path.

“Morning, sunshine,” Mingi greeted, his grin as bright as ever.

Y/N pulled out an earbud, staring at him. “What do you want now?”

“Just wanted to say hi,” he said, leaning casually against the locker next to hers. “And maybe see if you’d like to grab coffee after school.”

Y/N blinked, genuinely surprised. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. I’m dead serious,” Mingi said, holding a hand to his chest like he was pledging allegiance.

She scoffed, opening her locker. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I’m persistent?” he offered, his tone light. “And because I’m actually interested in getting to know you.”

Y/N pulled out a notebook and turned to him, unimpressed. “You don’t even know my favorite color.”

Mingi didn’t miss a beat. “Blue. Or maybe green. Something calm, but with a little edge.”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised he’d even try. “Wrong. It’s purple.”

“Noted,” Mingi said, nodding solemnly. “See? I’m learning already.”

“Not fast enough,” Y/N muttered, slamming her locker shut. “Look, Mingi, I don’t know what you think this is, but it’s not going to work. Save yourself the trouble.”

As she walked away, Mingi called after her, “I like a challenge!”

Chloe, who had been watching from nearby, walked up to Mingi, shaking her head with a smirk. “You’re really going all out, aren’t you?”

Mingi shrugged, unbothered. “She’ll come around. They always do.”

Chloe crossed her arms, giving him a pointed look. “Y/N’s not like ‘they,’ and you know it. If you really want her to take you seriously, maybe try being genuine for once.”

Mingi raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m not?”

Chloe laughed softly. “Because I’ve seen your track record, and so has she. You want advice? Don’t try to outsmart her. She’s smarter than you think.”

With that, Chloe turned and walked toward Y/N, leaving Mingi standing alone by the lockers. For the first time, his confidence wavered just slightly. Maybe Chloe was right maybe he needed to switch up his game.

That evening, Mingi lay sprawled on his bed, the glow of his bedside lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. His phone rested on his chest, notifications piling up from girls who were all too eager to talk to him. Yet, for once, he didn’t care.

His mind was somewhere else on Y/N.

“What’s her deal?” he muttered to himself, tossing his phone onto the nightstand. “She’s not even trying to play hard to get. She just doesn’t care.”

It was… unsettling. He was used to his charm working instantly, but Y/N hadn’t even flinched. In fact, she’d made him feel like the one chasing her and that was new.

Mingi sat up, rubbing the back of his neck as his thoughts spiraled. He replayed every word she’d said earlier: the sharpness in her tone, the way she’d brushed him off like he was nothing. It wasn’t just rejection it was indifference.

“Okay, think,” he said aloud, grabbing a notebook from his desk. “What’s the next move?”

Flipping open the pages, he started jotting down ideas:

1. Find out what she likes – Chloe said she’s smart. Maybe books? Music?

2. Stop being predictable – She clearly sees me as some player. Prove I’m more than that.

3. Show genuine interest – No games, no big gestures. Just… be real?

Mingi stared at the last note, his pen hovering above the page. Be real? He wasn’t sure he even knew how to do that. His whole persona was built on confidence, on knowing exactly what to say and when to say it. Could he really strip all of that away?

He leaned back in his chair, spinning the pen in his fingers. “If she’s different, maybe I have to be different, too.”

For the first time in a long while, Mingi felt a pang of uncertainty. He didn’t know if this was a challenge he could win, but he wasn’t about to back down.

A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Mingi, dinner’s ready,” his mom called from the hallway.

“Coming,” he replied, closing the notebook and tossing it onto his desk.

As he headed downstairs, one thought lingered in his mind: if Y/N wanted him to be real, then real was what she’d get.

The next morning, Mingi arrived at school with a new strategy in mind. He wasn’t going to overwhelm Y/N with grand gestures or cheesy pick-up lines. No, this time he’d take it slow, chip away at her walls bit by bit.

He spotted her at her locker, pulling books out for her first class. As usual, Chloe stood nearby, chatting animatedly. Mingi took a deep breath and approached, plastering on his most casual smile.

“Morning, Y/N,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

Y/N glanced at him briefly, then returned her attention to her locker. “Hi.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Mingi but said nothing, clearly waiting to see what he’d do next.

“Need help carrying those?” he offered, motioning to the stack of books in her arms.

Y/N shut her locker and turned to him with a deadpan look. “No, thanks. I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

Mingi nodded, undeterred. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d ask. So, what’s on the agenda today? Anything exciting?”

Y/N started walking toward her class, and Mingi fell into step beside her. “Not really. Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Trying to get to know you. Isn’t that what people do?”

Y/N sighed, clearly exasperated. “Look, Mingi, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but you can stop. I’m not interested.”

Chloe trailed behind them, suppressing a grin as Mingi simply smiled and said, “Noted. But I’m still not giving up.”

For the next two weeks, Mingi kept his word. Every day, he found subtle ways to get Y/N’s attention asking her opinion on random topics during lunch, joining her group in gym class, and even sitting near her in the library. He didn’t push too hard, but he was always there, persistent and consistent.

At first, Y/N barely acknowledged him. She rolled her eyes at his jokes, ignored his questions when she could, and even told him outright that he was wasting his time. But Mingi didn’t waver.

One day after school, Y/N sat in the library with Chloe, trying to finish an essay. Mingi wandered in, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a book in the other.

“Hey,” he said, sliding the cup onto the table in front of her.

Y/N looked up, confused. “What’s this?”

“Black coffee,” Mingi replied with a shrug. “Thought you could use it. You look like you’ve been here for hours.”

Chloe stifled a laugh as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I like black coffee?”

“You seem like the no-sugar type,” he said confidently.

Y/N hesitated, then took a tentative sip. It was perfect. She hated that he got it right.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning back to her work.

Mingi didn’t stay, and for the first time, Y/N found herself thinking about him long after he’d left.

By the end of the second week, Y/N finally gave in. As she walked out of school with Chloe, she spotted Mingi leaning against the gate, his usual grin in place.

“What now?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

Mingi held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not here to bother you. Just thought I’d ask if you want to grab some dinner or something. It’s been a couple of weeks, and I’d say we’ve made progress, don’t you think?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she was intrigued. “What are you really trying to do, Mingi?”

He shrugged, looking completely at ease. “I’m just trying to get you to see that I’m not like the other guys. Not everyone’s out for something. I just thought maybe you’d give me a chance to prove that.”

Y/N glanced at Chloe, who was quietly watching the interaction with a knowing look in her eyes. Chloe leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for Y/N to hear, “You know, he’s been trying. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a shot.”

Y/N hesitated. She hadn’t expected Mingi to be this persistent, or this… genuine, in his own way. The truth was, a part of her was curious.

“Fine,” she said after a long pause. “But only because you’ve been so obnoxious about it for two weeks.”

Mingi’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at six.”

As Y/N walked away with Chloe, she couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of excitement and reluctance. This could end up being one big mistake or maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something unexpected.

That evening, Mingi pulled up to Y/N’s house in his car, his heart beating a little faster than usual. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, but this wasn’t like the other dates he’d been on. This wasn’t some game at least, not anymore. He had to prove he was serious.

When Y/N stepped outside, dressed casually but effortlessly put-together, Mingi’s breath caught in his throat. She was different from anyone he’d ever had to chase, and for the first time, he felt unsure of himself.

“Hey,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat, offering a small but genuine smile.

“Hey,” Mingi replied, his voice uncharacteristically softer than usual. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Y/N responded with a slight shrug, settling into the seat. “I’m just hoping this dinner isn’t going to be some disaster.”

Mingi laughed, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I promise it’s not a setup for some awful prank.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” she said dryly, glancing over at him. “I just don’t know why you keep insisting on hanging out. You’ve been pretty persistent.”

“Well,” Mingi said as he started the car, “maybe I like a challenge. And maybe I think you’re… worth the effort.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. She was still guarded, and Mingi could feel the distance between them, though he was determined to close it.

They arrived at a cozy little café a few minutes later, a place far away from the prying eyes of their schoolmates. It was quiet, with dim lighting and a peaceful atmosphere nothing like the bustling hangout spots Mingi usually frequented.

As they walked inside, Mingi held the door open for her, and they took a seat at a small corner booth. He could feel her watching him, studying him, as if she was waiting for him to slip up.

“So, what made you choose this place?” Y/N asked, looking around the café with a slight tilt of her head.

“I thought you might like something… low-key,” Mingi said, leaning back in his seat. “I’m not all about loud clubs and parties. Sometimes I want a little peace and quiet too.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by his honesty. “Huh. Guess I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I guess that’s the point,” he said with a slight smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”

They fell into an easy silence as the waitress came to take their orders. Once she left, Y/N leaned forward slightly, her curiosity piqued.

“So, what’s the deal with you, Mingi? You’re like… the guy everyone knows but no one really knows, you know?”

Mingi paused, the question catching him off guard. For a moment, he wondered if this was just a roundabout way of asking about his past relationships.

“I guess I’m just… living in the moment,” he said after a beat, looking down at his hands. “Not really thinking too much about the future.”

Y/N watched him carefully. “And do you ever think about the future? Or is it just one person after another?”

Mingi looked up at her, his expression slightly more serious than before. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Maybe I’ve been trying to keep things light because I’m not sure how to handle real feelings. I know it’s easier to just keep moving than to deal with the mess that is emotions.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by his vulnerability. She had expected him to brush it off, but there he was, opening up to her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

“I get that,” she said softly. “Sometimes it’s easier to stay detached. But eventually, that catches up with you, right?”

Mingi nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the conversation settle before their food arrived. Mingi tried to keep the mood light as they ate, cracking jokes here and there, but he noticed Y/N’s walls slowly coming down. She was still guarded, but she wasn’t shutting him out as much as she had before.

After a while, Y/N looked at him with a small smile. “You know, I didn’t think I’d actually have a good time tonight.”

Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. “So, does this mean I’ve earned a little bit of your trust?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe. You’ve been surprising me, Mingi. I didn’t think you could actually have a conversation without it feeling like some game.”

“Well, I can be serious when I want to be,” Mingi said, leaning in slightly. “And I’m starting to think I might want to be serious with you.”

Y/N stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any signs of his usual arrogance or playboy charm. But all she saw was sincerity, and for the first time, she allowed herself to soften.

“Okay,” she said after a long pause, her voice quieter now. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this from you. But… I’m still not convinced this is all real.”

Mingi reached across the table, gently brushing his fingers against hers. “Give me a chance to prove it.”

Y/N looked down at their hands, the gesture surprisingly gentle. She had always thought of Mingi as someone who only cared about getting what he wanted, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, looking back up at him. “But you’re not getting off that easy.”

Mingi grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they finished their meal, the air between them had shifted. It was no longer about playing games or pretending. For the first time, they were both being honest with each other and that felt like the beginning of something real.

Two weeks had passed since Mingi’s dinner with Y/N, and things were… different. A lot had changed, but not in the way he’d expected. Sure, he was still pursuing her, but now it wasn’t just about winning the bet. There was something more to it, something that made his usual confidence feel more like a subtle uncertainty. He’d actually begun to care about what Y/N thought.

But tonight, Mingi sat with San and Hongjoong, the two of them eagerly waiting to hear about his progress. It was time to talk about the bet.

“So, how’s it going, bro?” Hongjoong asked, a teasing glint in his eye. “You sure you’ve got this in the bag?”

Mingi leaned back in his chair, his usual cocky smile making a reappearance. “Oh, yeah. It’s going smoothly. She’s softening up. She’s definitely starting to like meprobably more than she realizes.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re sure? You’re not, like, falling for her or anything, right? Because I remember you saying it was just a bet.”

Mingi paused at San’s words, a strange discomfort settling in his chest. He quickly shook it off. “Nah, I’m not falling for her. It’s all part of the plan. She’s just… getting used to me. And I’m playing it smart. It’s not like I’m putting all my eggs in one basket.”

Hongjoong leaned in, smirking. “You’re starting to sound a little defensive. You sure you’re not starting to care?”

Mingi’s gaze flickered for a moment, his thoughts betraying him. He quickly cleared his throat and forced a laugh. “Nah, you guys know I’m all about winning. I just like to keep things interesting, you know?”

San and Hongjoong exchanged a look, both silently processing what they’d just heard.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Hongjoong asked, eager to hear what Mingi would do next.

Mingi grinned, tapping his fingers on the table. “Next step? I’m taking her out again this weekend. I’ve been keeping things casual no pressure, just a little fun. She’s definitely starting to let her guard down. The more time I spend with her, the more she opens up.”

San leaned back, looking skeptical. “Just be careful, Mingi. You’re playing a dangerous game. You can’t mess around with someone like Y/N for too long without catching feelings.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed. “I told you, I’m not falling for her. I’ve got this under control. Just watch.”

Hongjoong gave a knowing smile. “Well, if you say so. But don’t forget, a bet’s a bet. You better be careful not to get too caught up in the process. You’ll end up playing yourself.”

Mingi grinned, though it was a little more strained than usual. “Nah, trust me. I know what I’m doing. This is just a game, and I’m always winning.”

Over the next few days, Mingi’s interactions with Y/N grew increasingly familiar. They started talking more, spending time together in and out of school sometimes at the café, sometimes just hanging out at the park. Every conversation felt easier, more comfortable. And yet, with each passing day, Mingi found himself questioning how much of it was part of the plan and how much was because he genuinely wanted to be around her.

As much as he told himself he was just playing the game, there was something about the way Y/N smiled when they talked, the way her eyes softened when she spoke to him, that made his heart beat a little faster. And for the first time, Mingi wasn’t sure if he was winning the bet or if he was just losing himself in the process.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside. The bet was still on. And in his mind, winning was all that mattered.

It had been one month and two weeks since Mingi and Y/N started hanging out, and the connection between them had evolved in ways neither of them expected. Their usual banter was still there, but now it was accompanied by something deeper something unspoken but undeniable.

This time, Mingi had invited Y/N to a cherry blossom field, the perfect place for a quiet afternoon picnic away from the noise of school and the eyes of others. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the sea of pink petals that surrounded them. The air smelled fresh, and the gentle breeze made the blossoms sway, scattering petals like confetti around them.

They were seated on a blanket, surrounded by sandwiches, fruit, and iced tea, but neither of them were really paying attention to the food. Instead, they were lost in conversation genuine, easy, and comfortable in a way neither of them had anticipated.

“So, tell me,” Y/N said, a playful glint in her eyes, “what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done to impress someone?”

Mingi laughed, leaning back on his hands. “Oh, that’s a long list. Probably the time I spent a ridiculous amount of money on a concert ticket just to impress some girl who didn’t even end up going.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Lesson learned don’t try too hard.”

Y/N smirked. “Seems like you’ve learned a few things the hard way, huh?”

Mingi grinned, his eyes locking with hers for a brief moment. “Yeah, but I think that’s how you get better at this whole… ‘life’ thing.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics favorite books, weird childhood stories, random facts they’d both learned. Each topic was a little more personal, a little more revealing. Y/N found herself laughing more than she had in a while, and Mingi couldn’t help but admire the way she smiled, the way she made everything feel so natural.

At some point, the chatter died down, and they both sat in a comfortable silence, watching the petals float through the air. The sun was setting now, casting a soft glow over everything, and the world felt as if it had slowed down just for them.

Without realizing it, they had shifted closer to each other on the blanket. Y/N was now sitting with her legs crossed, facing Mingi, their knees almost touching. The closeness felt different from anything they had shared before, and for a brief moment, Mingi’s heart raced in a way it never had during their hangouts. He had spent so much time trying to impress her, trying to win her over, but now, in this quiet, peaceful space, he realized he didn’t need to do anything.

Y/N, too, noticed the change in the air between them. Her pulse quickened as she met his gaze, the space between them closing slowly, almost naturally. For a moment, she thought about pulling away, about asking if this was a bad idea but something in Mingi’s eyes told her he was just as unsure, just as tentative.

Then, without thinking, she reached out, gently brushing her hand against his. It was a subtle gesture, but the impact was immediate. Mingi’s breath hitched, his gaze dropping to where their hands were connected, and then slowly, he met her eyes again.

The world seemed to blur around them, the noise of everything else fading away. It was just the two of them, the cherry blossoms, and the beating of their hearts.

Mingi leaned in first, drawn by something he couldn’t name, something that had been building between them for weeks. Y/N’s breath caught as their faces grew closer, the tension thickening. There was no going back now.

And then, without a word, their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, gentle, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile moment they had created. Mingi’s hand moved to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss just slightly, testing the waters.

Y/N responded in kind, her hand moving to his chest as the kiss grew more urgent, more needy. Her heart raced as the feeling of Mingi’s lips on hers felt so right, so real, and yet so unexpected.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other, eyes closed as they tried to collect themselves.

“I didn’t plan on that,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaking slightly, the words feeling like an admission of something she hadn’t fully realized until now.

Mingi’s lips quirked into a small, soft smile, his thumb still brushing her cheek. “Me neither,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The moment felt too precious, too delicate to break with words. They were still so close, the space between them charged with something neither of them could deny anymore.

“I think I should take you out more often,” Mingi said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N chuckled, though it was a little nervous, her heart still pounding in her chest. “Yeah, I think you should.”

And for the first time, there were no games, no pretense. Only the two of them, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the cherry blossoms, and a kiss that neither of them would ever forget.

After the kiss, the world around them felt suspended in time. Neither of them rushed to speak, neither of them pulled away. Instead, they simply existed in the moment, their breaths steady and soft as they let the stillness of the cherry blossom field surround them.

Y/N shifted slightly, tilting her head until it gently rested against Mingi’s shoulder. He tensed for a brief second, but then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he relaxed and let her settle closer to him. Her hair was soft against his arm, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just the two of them, a peaceful calm settling over them both.

The sun hung low in the sky, its warm golden light casting a soft glow over the field. The cherry blossoms swayed in the breeze, their petals drifting lazily to the ground, like a slow, natural dance. The sound of distant birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, that told them everything didn’t have to be said out loud to feel real.

Mingi glanced down at Y/N, her eyes closed as she leaned against him, her face soft and peaceful. He felt something stir inside him something that wasn’t just the thrill of the bet or the challenge anymore. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but there was a warmth in his chest that made him want to protect this moment, to keep it frozen in time.

For a while, they just watched the sunset together, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with words. The sky had turned from soft orange to pink, and then to a deep purple as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. It was beautiful quiet, simple, and perfect in a way that neither of them had anticipated.

“This is nice,” Y/N murmured, breaking the stillness just enough for Mingi to hear her. Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb the peace they’d found.

Mingi smiled, his gaze still on the sunset. “Yeah, it is.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m glad you came with me today.”

Y/N smiled to herself, not opening her eyes, but feeling the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad I came too.”

They fell silent again, the gentle evening breeze wrapping around them, the air cool but not uncomfortable. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, Mingi couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment.

For so long, he’d lived his life in motion, always chasing the next thing, the next thrill, the next conquest. But here, with Y/N’s head on his shoulder and the world quietly fading into night, he felt… at peace.

And for once, he didn’t feel the need to chase anything.

“I think I could get used to this,” Mingi said quietly, his words almost to himself, but loud enough for Y/N to hear.

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Me too.”

The night stretched on, but neither of them moved. They stayed there, watching the sky turn darker, the stars beginning to appear, their breaths in sync. And for the first time in a long time, Mingi didn’t feel the pressure of the bet, the weight of the game he was playing. He just felt… here. With her.

And in that moment, that was enough.

The next day at school, Mingi leaned casually against the lockers, a smug grin spread across his face as he recounted the events of the previous evening to San and Hongjoong. The hallway was busy with students heading to class, the usual noise and chatter filling the air, but Mingi’s voice carried just enough to be heard over the commotion.

“And then, we kissed,” Mingi said, his tone confident. “I told you guys I’d get her to fall for me. She’s hooked now. Guess that means I win the bet.”

San raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Damn, so you really pulled it off, huh?”

Hongjoong nodded, crossing his arms. “Didn’t think you’d make it, honestly. Two months is a long time to stay focused on one girl.”

Mingi shrugged, trying to play it cool, though there was a flicker of something uneasy in his chest. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”

Unbeknownst to them, Y/N had stopped just around the corner, her heart sinking as she heard every word. She had been on her way to meet Chloe, but the sound of Mingi’s voice caught her attention, and curiosity had gotten the better of her. Now, she wished she hadn’t listened.

Her chest tightened, and her throat felt dry as the reality of what she was hearing hit her like a ton of bricks. The past few weeks the laughter, the conversations, the kiss under the cherry blossoms it had all been part of a game. A bet.

Her hands clenched into fists as she stepped out from behind the wall.

the corner, her eyes burning with unshed tears. The hallway noise seemed to dull around her, and all she could focus on was Mingi’s smug expression as he laughed with his friends.

“Really?” Y/N’s voice rang out, sharp and trembling with hurt.

Mingi froze mid laugh, his eyes snapping to her. The color drained from his face as he realized she’d heard everything. “Y/N…”

San and Hongjoong exchanged uneasy glances, both taking a cautious step back as Y/N approached. Her gaze was icy, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling in her eyes.

“So, this was all just a bet?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t falter. “Everything the texts, the hangouts, the cherry blossom field it was all just some stupid game to you?”

Mingi opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

“I can’t believe I actually thought you were different,” Y/N continued, her voice growing louder. “I thought you’d changed, that maybe you actually cared about me. But I was wrong.”

“Wait, Y/N, let me explain—” Mingi started, stepping toward her, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“Explain what?” she snapped, her voice trembling with emotion. “That you tricked me? That you pretended to like me just so you could win a bet? There’s nothing to explain, Mingi. I get it now.”

The hallway had grown quieter, students slowing down to watch the scene unfold. Y/N’s chest heaved as she tried to keep her composure, but the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over.

Mingi’s heart sank as he saw the pain in her eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking about the bet. Somewhere along the way, he had started to care about her really care.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” Mingi said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I—”

“It’s exactly like that,” Y/N interrupted, her voice breaking. “You lied to me, Mingi. You made me believe you actually cared, but you don’t. You never did.”

She turned on her heel, storming away before he could say another word. Mingi reached out instinctively, but San grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Let her go, man,” San said quietly.

Mingi stood there, frozen, watching Y/N disappear down the hallway. The weight of what had just happened hit him like a punch to the gut. He had hurt her badly. And for what? A stupid bet?

Hongjoong let out a low whistle, breaking the tense silence. “Well, that just blew up in your face.”

Mingi shot him a glare but didn’t say anything. His mind was racing, replaying every moment he’d spent with Y/N over the past few weeks. The sound of her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the feeling of her head resting on his shoulder under the cherry blossoms.

He didn’t just like her. He was in love with her. And now, because of his own stupidity, he’d ruined everything.

“What are you gonna do now?” San asked, his voice low, almost cautious.

Mingi ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched across his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I have to fix this. Somehow.”

For the first time in his life, Mingi wasn’t thinking about winning. He wasn’t thinking about the bet, or his pride, or his reputation. All he could think about was Y/N and how he might have lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Y/N sat on her bed that evening, staring blankly at the wall. Her chest felt heavy, her mind replaying Mingi’s words from earlier that day like a broken record. “I told you guys I’d get her to fall for me. She’s hooked now. Guess that means I win the bet.”

Her stomach churned every time she thought about it. How could she have been so naive? So foolish to think someone like Mingi could genuinely care for her? All those moments they shared, the laughs, the kiss it was all fake. A game to him.

Tears slid down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She thought back to the way Mingi had looked at her yesterday in the cherry blossom field, the way he smiled, the softness in his voice. It all felt so real. But it wasn’t. It was a lie.

A soft knock on her bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. Chloe stepped in, her expression cautious as she held a tray with tea and cookies. “Hey,” she said gently, setting the tray on Y/N’s nightstand. “I thought you might need this.”

Y/N gave her a weak smile, wiping her face. “Thanks.”

Chloe sat beside her, her tone careful. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I’m here if you need me.”

For a moment, Y/N didn’t respond. Then, her voice came out in a whisper. “I really thought he cared, Chloe. I thought he was different.”

Chloe’s jaw tightened. “Mingi’s an idiot,” she said firmly. “And if he thinks he can just waltz back in and fix this, he’s got another thing coming.”

Y/N nodded, her resolve hardening. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her again.

The next day at school, Mingi tried to approach her, but Y/N ignored him completely. She walked past him in the hallway as if he didn’t exist. When he called out her name, she kept walking, refusing to even glance in his direction.

“Y/N, wait! Please, just hear me out!” Mingi pleaded, but she acted as though she couldn’t hear him.

This pattern continued for days. No matter where he tried to catch her in the hallways, at lunch, after class she refused to engage. Mingi’s usual confidence was nowhere to be found. His friends noticed it too.

“You look like a lost puppy,” San said one afternoon, watching Mingi slump into his seat.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think apologizing once was going to fix this? You humiliated her, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Mingi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard to get her to listen to me.”

That evening, Mingi stood outside Y/N’s house with a bouquet of her favorite flowers in hand. He had been there every night since the incident, each time hoping she might open the door. But each time, she didn’t.

He knocked softly, his heart pounding in his chest. When the door opened, his hopes lifted only to see Chloe standing there, arms crossed, glaring at him.

“What do you want, Mingi?” she asked flatly.

“Is Y/N home?” he asked, his voice almost pleading. “I just want to talk to her. Please.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Chloe said firmly, stepping closer as if to block his view inside. “And honestly, can you blame her?”

Mingi’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t leave. “I know I messed up,” he admitted. “I was an idiot, okay? But I… I care about her. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I need her to know that.”

Chloe’s expression softened slightly, but she didn’t move. “She’s hurt, Mingi. You need to give her time.”

With that, she closed the door, leaving Mingi standing on the porch, clutching the flowers in defeat.

Days turned into weeks, but Mingi didn’t stop trying. Every day, he brought flowers to Y/N’s house. Every day, he tried to catch her at school. And every day, she ignored him.

One afternoon, as Y/N was walking home, she noticed Mingi waiting for her at the corner of her street. She sighed, her resolve starting to waver as she saw the flowers.

determination in his eyes. He looked tired, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something softer something more vulnerable. In his hands, he held yet another bouquet of flowers, slightly wilted from being carried around all day.

“Y/N,” Mingi called out gently, stepping toward her. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”

She stopped walking, crossing her arms as she stared at him, her gaze guarded. “Why? So you can feed me more lies?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice almost breaking. “I just… I need to explain. I know I don’t deserve for you to hear me out, but I’m begging you.”

Y/N hesitated. Part of her wanted to turn around and leave, to keep the walls she’d built intact. But another part of her the part that remembered the Mingi who sat with her under the cherry blossoms wanted to hear him out.

She sighed and finally said, “You have five minutes.”

Mingi’s shoulders sagged with relief as he stepped closer, careful not to overstep her boundaries. “Thank you,” he murmured. He took a deep breath, then began.

“When this all started, I was stupid. I thought it was just a game a challenge. I didn’t think about how it might hurt you because I wasn’t thinking at all. And I know that makes me a jerk, but somewhere along the way, everything changed.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t interrupt.

Mingi looked down at the flowers in his hands, his voice quieter now. “Spending time with you, getting to know you… it stopped being about the bet. I started looking forward to seeing you every day, hearing your voice, learning all the little things that make you… you.”

He met her eyes then, his own filled with an earnestness she hadn’t seen before. “I fell for you, Y/N. And not because of some stupid bet. I fell for you because you’re amazing. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know the truth. I’m not that guy anymore. Not because I decided to change, but because you made me want to be better.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the raw honesty in his voice. But the hurt was still there, lingering like a shadow over everything.

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “How do I know this isn’t just another part of your game?”

Mingi took a step closer, holding out the flowers to her. “Because I’m still here. I’ve been here every day, trying to fix what I broke. I don’t care about the bet, Y/N. I care about you. And I’ll keep proving it, no matter how long it takes.”

For a long moment, Y/N just looked at him, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to trust him, to believe that he had changed, but the fear of being hurt again held her back.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need time, Mingi. I don’t know if I can forgive you yet.”

Mingi nodded, a small, sad smile on his face. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He handed her the flowers, and for the first time in weeks, Y/N accepted them. She didn’t say anything else as she turned and walked away, but Mingi stood there, watching her until she disappeared into her house.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a sliver of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him going.

That night, Y/N sat on her bed, the bouquet of flowers resting on her nightstand. She stared at them, the faint scent of roses filling the air. Her emotions were a tangled mess—anger, sadness, confusion, and something she didn’t want to admit: a lingering flicker of hope.

She wanted to hate Mingi, wanted to hold on to the pain he caused her. But the way he had looked at her today, the vulnerability in his voice, made her question everything. Was he really different? Had he truly fallen for her, or was it just another ploy?

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows. As much as she tried to push the thought away, the truth was clear: she still cared about him. But caring about him didn’t erase the hurt. It didn’t undo the betrayal.

Over the next few days, Mingi continued to prove his sincerity. He didn’t push her for more time or overwhelm her with grand gestures. Instead, he found small ways to show her he was still there.

When she walked into school one morning, she found a note tucked into her locker:

I’m sorry for everything. I’m not giving up on us, no matter how long it takes. – M

When she went to her favorite café with Chloe, the barista handed her a drink with a sticky note attached:

I saw you order this once. Thought you could use a pick me up. – M

Each little act chipped away at her defenses. She couldn’t ignore the effort he was putting in, but she also couldn’t let her guard down entirely. Not yet.

One evening, a week after their conversation, Y/N was sitting on the steps outside her house when she saw Mingi approaching. He wasn’t holding flowers this time, just his hands in his pockets and an uncertain look on his face.

“Hey,” he said softly, stopping a few feet away.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone cautious but not cold.

“Can I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the step beside her.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

Mingi sat down, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. He looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “I wanted to say something. Something I should have said a long time ago.”

Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I know I’ve done everything to mess this up, and I don’t deserve you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I love you.”

Her breath hitched as his words sank in. She searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all she saw was raw, unfiltered truth.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Mingi’s heart pounded as he waited, the seconds feeling like hours.

Then, finally, she spoke. “I…” She paused, her eyes softening. “I love you too, Mingi.”

His eyes widened in surprise and relief, a smile breaking across his face. “You do?”

She nodded, a small smile of her own forming. “I do. But this doesn’t mean everything is fixed. I still need time to trust you again.”

Mingi reached for her hand, his touch gentle. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I promise.”

Y/N felt a glimmer of hope not just for Mingi, but for them.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Mingi slowly began to rebuild what had been broken. It wasn’t easy there were moments when doubt crept in, when Y/N’s walls went back up, or when Mingi questioned whether he could ever fully make up for his mistakes. But through it all, they found ways to meet in the middle.

Mingi was patient, careful not to push her too far. He started showing up for her in ways that felt genuine offering to walk her home from school, helping her carry her books, and being a constant presence in her life. When they talked, he listened, really listened, and Y/N found herself opening up to him in ways she hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, they found themselves at the park where they had shared their first kiss. The cherry blossoms were long gone, replaced by vibrant green leaves, but the memory lingered. They sat under the same tree, Mingi leaning against the trunk while Y/N stretched out on the grass beside him.

“You know,” she said, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers, “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you without feeling angry.”

Mingi turned to her, his expression soft. “And now?”

“Now,” she said, glancing at him with a small smile, “I’m starting to feel like I can trust you again.”

He smiled, relief washing over him. “That means more to me than you know.”

Days turned into weeks, and their connection only grew stronger. Mingi wasn’t just a part of her life now he was a constant. They studied together, laughed together, and even shared secrets under the stars.

One evening, after a particularly long day of classes, Mingi and Y/N found themselves at her favorite café. The place was quiet, the soft hum of conversation filling the air as they sat by the window.

Y/N was sipping her drink when she noticed Mingi fidgeting. He kept glancing at her, then at his hands, like he was trying to muster the courage to say something.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mingi chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Okay…” she prompted, leaning forward slightly.

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. “I know I’ve said this before, but I need you to know how much you mean to me. These past few weeks, rebuilding things with you it’s been everything to me. You’re everything to me, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her drink, a smile tugging at her lips. “Mingi…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ve spent so much of my life running from things, from feelings, from anything real. But with you… I don’t want to run anymore. I want to be better, not just for you but for myself too. And I want to do it with you by my side.”

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. She hadn’t expected this not now, not tonight but as she looked into his eyes, she saw the sincerity, the hope, and the love he had for her.

“Yes,” she said softly, her smile widening. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Mingi’s face lit up, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You won’t regret it,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

“I know I won’t,” Y/N replied, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

The next day at school, Mingi couldn’t stop smiling. His usual confident swagger was there, but it felt different now lighter, more genuine. His friends, San and Hongjoong, were quick to notice as they sat at their usual spot on the bleachers during lunch.

“You’re practically glowing,” San teased, nudging Mingi with his elbow. “What’s going on? Did Y/N finally agree to hang out with you again or something?”

Mingi grinned, unable to hold it in any longer. “Actually… she said yes.”

Hongjoong furrowed his brow. “Yes to what?”

“To being my girlfriend,” Mingi said, his smile growing even wider.

San’s jaw dropped, and Hongjoong let out a low whistle. “No way,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re telling me Y/N the girl who doesn’t give anyone the time of day actually agreed to date you?”

“Yep,” Mingi said, leaning back with a satisfied look. “And I didn’t even have to bribe her or anything.”

Hongjoong laughed, clapping him on the back. “Well, I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you. But I’ve got to say, I’m happy for you, man. You’ve been different lately. Better.”

San nodded, his expression turning more serious. “Yeah, for real. I mean, I know we teased you a lot, but I can tell you actually care about her. Don’t mess this up.”

“I won’t,” Mingi promised, his tone firm. “She means too much to me.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting with Chloe in their favorite spot in the courtyard, sipping on iced tea and enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Chloe had been unusually quiet, and Y/N finally spoke up.

“Okay, spill it. I know you have something to say,” Y/N said, setting her drink down and giving Chloe a pointed look.

Chloe sighed, leaning back against the bench. “I just… I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really, I am. I’ve never seen you this happy before.”

“But?” Y/N prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But,” Chloe continued, “I also know how much you’ve been hurt before. I just want to make sure you’re being careful. Mingi’s great and all, but he’s… well, he’s Mingi. You know what I mean.”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “I know. And trust me, I’ve thought about it. But he’s been different lately, Chloe. He’s really trying, and I can see it. I’m not saying I’m throwing caution to the wind, but… I think he’s worth taking a chance on.”

Chloe studied her for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. If you believe in him, then I’ll believe in him too. Just know I’ve got your back if he ever messes up.”

“I know,” Y/N said with a laugh, reaching out to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Thanks, Chloe. That means a lot.”

“And for the record,” Chloe added with a smirk, “I never thought I’d see the day where you started dating someone. Mingi must be some kind of miracle worker.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Yeah, well, he’s definitely something.”

Over the next few weeks, Mingi and Y/N’s relationship blossomed. They spent every spare moment together, from quiet study sessions in the library to playful banter during lunch. Y/N found herself smiling more than ever, and Mingi’s friends could see how much she had softened him.

Even Chloe, who had been skeptical at first, started warming up to the idea of them being together. She’d catch glimpses of how Mingi looked at Y/N when he thought no one else was watching like she was the only thing that mattered in the world and it was hard not to root for them.

It had been a couple of months since Y/N and Mingi officially started dating, and everything was going better than Y/N could have imagined. He had proven himself over and over again not just to her, but to Chloe, her family, and even his own friends. Mingi’s playful charm had melted into something deeper and more genuine, and Y/N couldn’t deny how much she’d come to trust him.

Tonight, they were at his house. The usual sounds of his family bustling around were absent, and the house felt unusually quiet. Mingi’s mom had gone out for the evening, leaving the two of them alone.

In his room, they were sprawled across his bed, a bowl of popcorn between them as a movie played on the screen. The soft glow of fairy lights he’d strung up around his room gave the space a cozy warmth.

Y/N popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, giggling as a particularly ridiculous scene unfolded on the screen. “Okay, this might be the worst movie you’ve ever made me watch,” she said, glancing over at him.

Mingi grinned, leaning back against the headboard. “Excuse me, this is a cult classic,” he said, feigning offense. “You just don’t appreciate the art of bad action movies.”

“Oh, I appreciate it, all right,” she teased. “I just don’t know why the hero needs to somersault every five seconds.”

“It’s called flair,” Mingi shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

Y/N laughed, dodging it easily. “Flair, my foot. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

He smirked, setting the bowl of popcorn aside and turning to face her fully. “Ridiculous? You want to talk about ridiculous? You’re the one who cried during that cartoon about a dog the other day.”

Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “That was emotional, and you know it!”

Mingi chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the movie playing in the background forgotten. Mingi reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really cute when you’re all worked up, you know that?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat under his gaze. “Stop,” she said with a shy smile, swatting at his arm.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re… amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his tone made her heart skip a beat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and saw nothing but warmth and affection.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mingi,” she replied softly.

He smiled, leaning closer, his hand resting gently on her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she nodded, her heart racing. “Yeah,” she whispered back.

Mingi closed the gap between them, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of them could put into words.

When they pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“Good at what?” he asked, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Making me fall for you,” she said softly.

Mingi’s heart swelled at her words, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as the movie continued in the background.

In that moment, nothing else mattered just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

As the movie droned on in the background, neither of them paid it any attention anymore. Mingi’s fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along Y/N’s arm, and she found herself leaning into his touch. Their faces were close again, and it wasn’t long before his lips found hers once more, the kiss deeper this time, more deliberate.

Her hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping his shirt lightly as he shifted closer. The bowl of popcorn tumbled onto the floor, but neither of them noticed. All that mattered in that moment was each other.

Mingi pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes searched her face, as if asking for silent permission to take things a step further. When she gave a slight nod, he leaned back in, capturing her lips again.

This time, the kiss grew more intense, and before Y/N knew it, she was on her back, Mingi hovering over her. His hands braced on either side of her, keeping his weight off her, but the closeness between them was undeniable.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and full of emotion.

Her heart raced as she looked up at him, her hands finding their way to his hair. She tugged him back down for another kiss, and he didn’t hesitate to oblige, leaning in fully now as the space between them disappeared completely.

Mingi’s kisses deepened, his lips moving from hers to her jawline and down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Y/N shivered beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair as his touch became bolder. His fingertips trailed lightly down her sides, sending a wave of warmth through her.

“Tell me if I should stop,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with sincerity.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her breath hitching as his lips moved lower. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice barely audible but filled with certainty.

Taking her response as reassurance, Mingi’s hands began to explore more freely, gliding over the curves of her body with a tenderness that made her heart race. His lips found hers again, the kiss slow but filled with an unspoken intensity.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against her skin, and he paused, looking into her eyes for any sign of hesitation. When she nodded, he continued, his hands lifting the fabric slowly, giving her time to adjust with each inch.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his forehead resting against hers as he gently pulled the shirt over her head, his gaze filled with awe and affection.

Mingi then fully pulled her shirt over her head and threw it onto the ground before, unbuckling her bra and tossing that to the ground as well.

Mingi hovered over Y/N, his hands planted on either side of her head as he looked down at her. He took a moment to admire the sight of her beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, eliciting a soft moan from her.

He could feel her body responding to his touch, her back arching off the bed as she pressed herself closer to him. He smiled against her skin, his free hand moving to the other breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

Y/N writhed beneath him, her body writhing with pleasure as he teased her nipples. She let out a series of soft gasps and moans, her hands tangling in his hair as she clung to him.

"Mingi..." she breathed, her voice laced with need. "Please..."

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at her. "Please what, princess?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"I need you," she whimpered, her hips bucking up against him. "I need you to touch me."

Mingi chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Oh, I will, princess," he said, his hand trailing down her body. "But I'm going to take my time with you. I want to make you beg for it."

He continued to tease her, his lips and hands exploring every inch of her body. He knew all the spots that made her shiver and gasp, and he used that knowledge to his advantage.

He kissed his way down her neck, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He nipped at her collarbone, his teeth scraping against her skin.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured against her skin. "All spread out for me, desperate for my touch."

Mingi moved lower, his lips and tongue tracing a path down her stomach. He paused at the waistband of her panties, his fingers hooking under the fabric.

He looked up at her, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Lift your hips for me, princess," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Y/N obeyed, lifting her hips off the bed as he pulled her panties down, exposing her to him completely. He settled between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her in place.

Mingi gazed at her for a moment, taking in the sight of her spread out before him. She was a vision of beauty, her skin flushed and her eyes dark with desire.

He lowered his head, his breath hot against her center. He pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, his lips trailing closer and closer to where she needed him most.

He could smell her arousal, could see the evidence of her desire glistening on her skin. He teased her with his fingers, lightly brushing against her folds before withdrawing.

Mingi finally gave in to her need, his tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up her slit. She cried out, her body arching off the bed at the sensation.

He chuckled against her, the sound vibrating through her body. He lapped at her, his tongue exploring every inch of her folds with a skillful precision.

He found her clit, flicking his tongue against it in a steady rhythm that had her moaning and writhing beneath him. He knew just how to push her buttons, how to drive her wild with pleasure.

Mingi alternated between sucking and licking her clit, his hands holding her hips in place as he worked. He could feel her getting closer to the edge, her thighs trembling around his head.

He looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers as he continued to devour her. He loved watching her come undone, loved seeing the look of pure ecstasy on her face.

He pushed two fingers inside her, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside her.

Mingi continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, his tongue never leaving her clit. He could feel her walls fluttering around his fingers, a sure sign that she was close.

He quickened his pace, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brought her closer to her release. He knew she was on the brink, could feel her body tensing up beneath him.

Mingi doubled his efforts, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to push her over the edge. He sucked hard on her clit, his free hand moving to pinch her nipple.

Y/N cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. She was completely lost in the sensations, unable to form coherent words as she neared her peak.

Her moans grew louder, a mix of curses and pleas falling from her lips. She could feel the heat building low in her belly, her muscles tightening with each thrust of his fingers.

Mingi could feel her getting tighter around his fingers, her walls clenching desperately as she approached her orgasm. He knew she was right on the edge, knew that all it would take was one final push to send her over.

He curled his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot with unerring accuracy. At the same time, he bit down on her clit, a sharp jolt of pain that sent her hurtling into ecstasy.

Y/N screamed his name as she came, “ah mingi~” her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She writhed beneath him, her walls spasming around his fingers as he worked her through her orgasm.

Mingi pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal. He sat back on his heels, his eyes raking over her flushed and trembling body.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You taste so good, princess," he said, his voice low and husky.

He reached down, pulling off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, already hard and straining for release.

He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on her. "Come here," he said, beckoning her towards him.

Y/N crawled over to him, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She settled between his legs, her eyes fixed on his hard cock.

She looked up at him, her gaze filled with a mixture of desire and submission.

Mingi smirked, his fingers threading through her hair as he guided her closer to his cock. "Open your mouth, princess," he commanded, his voice firm but gentle.

Y/N obeyed, her lips parting as she looked up at him. She knew what he wanted, knew exactly how to please him.

He guided her head down, his cock sliding past her lips and into her warm, wet mouth. He let out a low groan, his grip on her hair tightening slightly.

Mingi's grip on her hair tightened as she took him deeper into her mouth. He groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as pleasure coursed through his body.

"Fuck, princess," he growled, his hips bucking up slightly. "Your mouth feels so good."

Y/N gagged as he hit the back of her throat, but she didn't pull back. She looked up at him through watery eyes, her hands bracing herself against his thighs.

Mingi could feel her throat constricting around him, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. He tightened his grip on her hair, using it to guide her movements as he pushed her head down further.

Y/N gagged again, her throat convulsing around Mingi's cock. The sensation was almost too much for him, the tight, wet heat of her mouth driving him wild.

He loved watching her struggle to take him, loved seeing the way her eyes watered and her cheeks hollowed out as she tried to breathe around him.

"You're doing so well, princess," he murmured, his voice strained. "Taking my cock so deep in your throat like a good girl."

Mingi continued to guide her head up and down his length, his hips moving in time with her movements. He could feel his orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in his gut.

He looked down at her, taking in the sight of her kneeling between his legs, her lips stretched around his cock. She looked so beautiful like this, so completely submissive and willing to please him.

He tightened his grip on her hair again, pushing her head down further than before. "I'm close, princess," he grunted, his voice rough with need.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mingi's cock. She lapped at the sensitive head, swirling her tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as pleasure shot through him. "Just like that, princess," he panted, his fingers tightening in her hair.

He could feel his release building, the tension in his body reaching its peak. He bucked his hips up, his cock hitting the back of her throat once more.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. "Swallow it all, princess. Be a good girl for me."

Y/N continued to suck and lick him, her movements becoming more desperate as she sensed his impending orgasm. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and obedience.

Mingi's body tensed, his muscles coiling tightly as he reached the edge. He let out a strangled cry, his hips jerking as he spilled himself into her mouth.

Y/N swallowed obediently, taking every drop of his cum without hesitation. She continued to suckle at his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Mingi groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as he came down from his high. "Good girl," he panted, his fingers loosening their grip on her hair. "Such a good girl for me."

Mingi took a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looked down at Y/N.

He reached out, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Lay down on your stomach, princess," he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes, sir," Y/N replied, her voice soft and obedient.

She did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach and pillowing her head on her arms. She felt vulnerable in this position, exposed and at his mercy.

Mingi moved behind her, his hands trailing over her back and down to her hips. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock resting against her entrance.

Mingi ran his hands over her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he admired her body. He loved the way she looked like this, spread out beneath him and completely at his mercy.

He teased her with the tip of his cock, running it up and down her folds without actually entering her. He could feel her growing wetter with each pass, her body aching for him to fill her.

Mingi leaned over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He held them up for Y/N to see, a smirk on his face.

"You know what these are for, princess?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her heart rate picking up at the sight of the handcuffs. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir."

Mingi fastened the handcuffs around her wrists, securing them tightly so that she was effectively bound and at his mercy.

He ran his hands up her arms, his fingers tracing the smooth skin of her back. "You look so good like this, princess," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Helpless and restrained, all mine to do with as I please."

Mingi grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

“Such a good little slut for me," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You're mine to use and abuse, aren't you?"

Y/N moaned, her body arching into his touch as he spoke. "Yes, Daddy," she gasped, her voice filled with need. "I'm all yours, to do whatever you want."

Mingi chuckled, his hand still tangled in her hair as he leaned back. He admired the sight of her bound and submissive beneath him, her body trembling with anticipation.

"That's right, princess," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You belong to me, and I'm going to use you however I see fit."

He shifted his position, positioning himself at her entrance. He teased her for a moment longer, rubbing the head of his cock against her folds before finally pushing inside.

Y/N moaned softly as he entered her, the feeling of being filled by him both pleasurable and overwhelming. She was completely at his mercy, her body and pleasure entirely in his control.

Mingi groaned, his grip on her hair tightening as he sank into her fully. "You're so tight, princess," he grunted, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against her back as he began to move inside her. He continued to pull her hair, forcing her head back at an uncomfortable angle.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and degrading. "Bound and helpless beneath me, taking my cock like the little good girl you are."

Y/N whimpered, her body writhing beneath him as he spoke. His words were like a drug, sending shivers of pleasure and shame coursing through her veins.

"P-Please," she gasped, her voice strained and stuttering. "Please, Daddy, harder."

Mingi chuckled darkly, his hips snapping forward with renewed force. "Such a needy little thing," he said, his voice laced with mockery. "Begging for more like the desperate little slut you are."

Mingi grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back so hard that it almost hurt. He pulled her up onto her knees, forcing her back to arch and her body to bend to his will.

"Is this what you want, princess?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "You want it rough and merciless, huh? You want me to use you like a toy?"

Y/N's eyes widened, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her as he pulled her hair. She could barely speak, her voice coming out in stutters and gasps.

"Y-yes, Daddy," she managed to gasp, her body trembling with need. "P-please, be rough with me. Use me however you want."

Mingi flipped her over, easily maneuvering her onto her back despite her bound wrists. He knelt between her legs, his eyes raking over her flushed and trembling body.

he thrust back into her.He wrapped his hand around her throat, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin.

"You look so beautiful like this, princess," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Helpless and at my mercy, completely under my control."

Mingi continued to pound into her, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. His hand around her throat tightened slightly, not enough to cut off her air but enough to send a thrill of danger coursing through her veins.

“You're mine, princess," he growled, his eyes locked on hers. "Your body, your pleasure, everything belongs to me. And I'm going to take it all."

Y/N moaned and writhed beneath him, her body arching into his touch as he took her roughly. The feeling of his hand around her throat and the sound of his grunts were driving her wild, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Mingi continued to pound into her, his grunts growing louder and more frequent as he approached his own release.

"You're so good for me, princess," he panted, his voice rough with exertion. "Taking my cock so well, so perfect for me."

Y/N's voice was barely coherent, her words coming out in a stream of gasps and moans.

"D-daddy," she managed to stutter, her body trembling with pleasure. "Please, I'm so close."

Mingi's grip on her wrists and throat tightened, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased his own release.

"I know you are, princess," he grunted, his voice strained. "Cum for me, let go and give me everything you have."

Y/N's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. “Ah~ daddy..”, her voice hoarse and broken as she clenched around him.

Mingi continued to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm as he chased his own release. The feeling of her tightening around him was too much to bear, and he soon followed her over the edge. “fuck princess..” mingi grunts out.

He groaned, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled himself inside her. His body shuddered with the force of his orgasm, his grip on her throat loosening slightly.

Mingi collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He released her throat, his hands coming to rest on her hips instead.

He remained inside her for a few moments, savoring the feeling of her body beneath him. He could feel the sweat cooling on their skin, their bodies slick with a mixture of sweat and cum.

He lifted his head, looking down at her with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. "You did so well, princess," he murmured, his voice still rough from exertion.

Mingi carefully pulled out of her, his body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. He rolled onto his side, gently helping her to sit up and remove the handcuffs.

He massaged her wrists, checking to make sure they weren't too sore or bruised from being restrained. Once he was satisfied that she was okay, he leaned in and kissed her forehead softly.

"Come on, princess," he said, standing up and holding out a hand to her. "Let's go get cleaned up."

Y/N took his hand, her legs still a bit shaky as she stood up. She leaned against him for support, feeling both exhausted and satisfied after their intense session.

Mingi wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her towards the bathroom. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right before stepping inside with her.

He pulled her under the warm spray, letting the water wash away the sweat and other fluids from their bodies. He took his time cleaning her, gently running his hands over her skin and washing away any evidence of their previous activities.

Once they were both clean and dry, Mingi led Y/N back to the bed. He pulled back the covers, letting her climb in before sliding in beside her.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly as they settled into the bed.

"I love you, princess," he murmured, his voice soft and affectionate. "You were amazing tonight."

Y/n softly says “I love you too mingi”

They both eventually drift off to sleep.

The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through the window, casting a warm glow over Mingi’s room. The world outside seemed quiet, and for once, everything felt still. Y/N lay nestled against Mingi’s chest, her head resting against his shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air. She felt peaceful, safe, and content.

Mingi shifted slightly, his deep morning voice filling the quiet room. “I think I’m still half asleep,” he mumbled, his words slow and groggy, but it only made Y/N smile.

“You definitely sound it,” she teased softly, raising her head slightly to meet his sleepy eyes.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before pulling her back into his embrace. “I’m not a morning person… but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Y/N laughed, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Well, lucky for you, I’m also not a morning person,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice.

They both fell into a comfortable silence, just lying there together, basking in the simple joy of being close. After a moment, Mingi broke the quiet again, his voice teasing. “Do you remember how you tried to steal all the blankets last night in your sleep?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. “I wasn’t trying to steal them! You were hogging them all!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Mingi grinned, pulling her even closer. “You just can’t resist my charm.”

She snorted. “It’s not your charm. It’s your body heat.”

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Either way, you were still stuck with me.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, her hand resting against his chest. “I can’t believe how much I love this. Just… being here with you, in this moment.”

Mingi’s smile softened, his thumb gently tracing circles on her back. “Same here. I’ve never felt anything like this before, Y/N. You make everything feel… right.”

Y/N paused, lifting her head slightly to look at him. The warmth in his eyes made her heart swell. “Mingi…”

He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as his voice grew sincere. “I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.”

Y/N felt a rush of emotion flood through her. She had never been this sure of anything in her life. “I love you too, Mingi,” she whispered, her voice filled with the depth of everything she had been feeling.

Mingi’s smile widened, and he kissed her forehead gently. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” Y/N replied, her heart full as she snuggled into him, both of them wrapped in the quiet of their own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.