#and even when I'm not working I just feel... dulled? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 3 months ago

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who wants a prism break?

So, the Theraprism! The Theraprism sucks, right?

This is like, a good day.

The Theraprism clearly sucks.

Have a one shot of Bill escaping Theraprism with the most desperate escape plan imaginable: reincarnation.

(Warning for, as you might expect, psychiatric hospital abuse.)

####

There are fates worse than death. Like boredom, for instance!

####

Everything was black and numb and silent and cold so so cold but no he could only call it cold if he felt cold and Bill didn't feel coldness there was just the absence of a feeling the absence of heat the absence of light the absence of sound the absence of touch the absence of air.

The absence of everything.

Bill had loved a void once—a micro black hole. Every time they touched it slowly killed him, spaghettified his limbs, drained his energy. His energy was so vast that she never claimed a drop of a drop of a drop of his reserves—but it still hurt like nothing else to be crushed and stretched and ripped and consumed by her event horizon. The pain was wonderful. Being shredded was ecstasy.

This void was the opposite of her.

He couldn't even feel anything when he tried to scream—without air, he couldn't feel his vocal plates vibrate. He couldn't feel his hands, his face, his eye; he tried to bite himself just to feel something and he couldn't feel his mouth, he tried to rip open his wounds and couldn't find them; why couldn't he see his own light, why couldn't he see his blood, where had he gone, was he gone—

Reality returned like a light bulb being switched on.

The first thing he registered was a shrill sound on the verge of inaudibility; and then the pain in his eye, his sides, his wounds; and then the dull gray light, the hard floor under his knees, the antiseptic stench in the air conditioning.

He stopped screaming. The shrill sound stopped.

"Energetic as always, are we?"

Bill blinked blearily at the Orb of Healing Light hovering before him. He croaked, "I'll regurgitate you."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." A glowing translucent clipboard manifested in front of the Orb. "Well, you've gone through this enough times to know the drill! Do you need a moment to recover, or—?"

"No no, I'm fine, I'm fine." Bill slumped forward, trembling hands on the floor, waiting for the vertigo to pass. "I'm fine. Do your thing." He'd rather get the post-Solitary Wellness Void reorientation interview over with.

"Perfect. What's your name?"

"I'm ol' Vinegar Pete."

"No clowning, please."

He sighed loudly. "Bill Cipher."

"Good. Where are you?"

He considered saying hell, but decided he'd used up all the clowning he could risk for one day. He didn't want to go back in. "The Theraprism. Ward 333."

"Very good. When are you?"

"I was gonna ask you," Bill groaned. "How long was I in the hole this time? A million years? Ten million?"

The Orb checked its notes. "Eight minutes."

"Wh—no, no I know that time moves slower out in reality than in the prism. I'm not asking how much time passed in reality, I'm asking how much time passed here."

"Eight minutes," the Orb repeated. "Outside the Theraprism, one third of one second passed."

Bill groaned again and flopped flat on the floor.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Why are any of us here?" Bill asked the gray linoleum tiles. "Usually because some dumb beast tripped into the booby trap that sets off its reproductive process. How's your species work, you pop outta nebulas, right—?"

"I meant, coming out of the Solitary Wellness Void."

"Oh." Bill tried to remember what his infraction had been this time. "Because I failed to escape."

"Because you tried to escape."

If he'd succeeded, they never could have punished him. "Sure."

"Good, you seem oriented to your surroundings. Let's get you to the nurse and then back to your cell." The nurse? What did he need a nurse for?

He only realized then that he must have succeeded in reopening his wounds in the SWV: the never-quite-healed crack across his exoskeleton was wider, the edges chipped and bent. It hurt. His eye socket hurt too; he tasted blood. With the way his whole body usually ached after leaving the void, he hadn't even noticed.

Through the crack in his exoskeleton, his edges had frayed into fine golden threads. The sight of silvery blood on his hands made him nauseous; he hastily looked away and reminded himself it was only his own.

####

As Bill wearily followed behind the Orb and two security guards followed behind him, he had to periodically turn to hover sideways to streamline himself. These days he was so weak that he could feel the air resistance pushing back against him when he floated; with his wound reopened, he felt like the air pressure could snap his exoskeleton along the crack and break him in half.

"You're not Emmy," Bill said. "You're, uh..."

"A-AOX4."

"Oxyyy," Bill said weakly. "Heyyy. S'been a while. Usually I get a personal welcome back from the void, why didn't Emmy show? Don't tell me it doesn't see me as a threat anymore!" He'd be offended if it didn't. D-SM5 was the closest thing he had to a nemesis these days. Even if he couldn't beat it, he wanted to think he still irritated the daylights out of it.

"Director SM5 couldn't make it. It's overseeing the preparations for Paingoreous's reincarnation."

"That's today? Good riddance." Paingoreous had started getting sanctimonious the past few hundred group therapy sessions—don't you have any compassion for your victims and it's possible to live a happy life without slaughtering all your enemies first and maybe I should ask for permission before I vivisect my friends' faces—passive, self-defeatist crap like that. Vivisecting your friends and seeing who complained was how you found out who your lame friends were! Now that the wet blanket was leaving, the rest of them could get back to spending their sessions reminiscing about the glory days and trying to set the donuts on fire when the therapist was distracted.

"Yes," A-AOX4 said pointedly, "it is good he gets to leave to go become a productive member of reality. We're all so happy that he's rehabilitated enough to earn a new chance at life." (Bill rolled his eye. A-AOX4 ignored it.) "Wouldn't you like a chance to rejoin reality, Bill?"

More than anything. He'd been in this crystallized brain's perpetual dreamscape for what felt like both a thousand years and a single day—time never passing, an eternal inescapable moment. He'd tried to break out, sneak out, or bargain his way out more times than he could count; sometimes he was locked in the SWV as punishment; and sometimes the staff gently stopped him, confiscated his supplies, and chastised him for the effort—and the reminder that he was as powerless as a child was worse than the void. He'd gone delirious from the boredom, hallucinating screams and burning faces as his mind struggled to stimulate itself (and he'd been medicated for it). He'd so despaired of escaping that he'd looked for a way to burn up the remains of his energy and vanish for good (and he'd been medicated for it). He ached with the need to see the stars again.

But not enough to sell his soul for it. If he took the staff's route—let them break him down, sandblast off his rough edges, erase everything that made him him, and finally physically transform him into some alien creature—then whatever left the Theraprism would no longer be Bill Cipher.

"What, and force you guys to find a new 'unique case'? I wouldn't do that to you! I know how much you love me," Bill said. "Besides, why would I go through all that just so I can reincarnate as a sentient snowflake, or Mi-Go antennae lice, or..."

"A butterfly," A-AOX4 cut in, an edge of impatience creeping into its tone. "Paingoreous has chosen to reincarnate as a butterfly. We all think that's a very productive way to channel his desire to digest his own skin."

"Unless it's one of those blood-drinking butterflies, lame." Bill scoffed. "Wait—hold on, you said butterfly? Like an Earth butterfly?"

They were, of course, not actually speaking an Earth language, but an interdimensional pidgin that borrowed words and grammar from dozens of worlds. When around the Orbs of Healing Light that held half the staff positions, Bill tended to speak a dialect of the pidgin that used flashes of light for 40% of its vocabulary. It was perfectly possible that the word Bill knew as "butterfly" was also used for some alien creature, but—

"Yes, an Earth butterfly. A Vanessa atalanta, to be precise."

Aw, boo. Not even a cool butterfly. "He's reincarnating on Earth?"

"Yes. Many of our patients reincarnate on Earth. As long as you're careful about which region and century you reincarnate into, it's at the top of our recommended list of Goldilocks zones."

There was another phrase that Bill recognized, but this time he was sure his definition was not A-AOX4's definition. "Whaaat do Goldilocks zones have to do with reincarnation."

"You didn't pay attention to the orientation session on our outpatient reincarnation program, did you."

"What! I didn't get an orientation session!" said Bill, who probably didn't remember any such session because he didn't pay attention to it.

"Well��we rank millions of planets and their dimensional parallels based on their potential to help patients reintegrate into reality. We do try to set our patients up for success," A-AOX4 said. "To qualify as a Goldilocks zone, a planet has to meet the Theraprism's rigorous list of criteria: its lifeforms, cultures, laws of physics, and position in interdimensional society must all be conducive to a patient's continued recovery. We want to ensure that our patients' new lives are neither so difficult as to retraumatize them, nor so easy as to let them coast by avoiding continued personal growth, but right in the middle, so that they're emotionally and spiritually challenged without being overwhelmed. The Goldilocks zone: a perfect compromise between two extremes."

"Yeah, sure, sounds great." Bill could feel his eye glazing over in disinterest. Fight it, Cipher.

"Do you miss Earth?"

Bill tilted to glance askance at A-AOX4, and was surprised to see it had turned to focus a spotlight on him. Oh—it thought it had finally found a carrot to dangle in front of him. That was a popular strategy here: they figured out what a patient wanted most, and then used it to coax them into good behavior and "rehabilitation"—better still if they could attach a sense of urgency to it. Don't you want to see your descendants again before the last of them dies out? Don't you want to see your homeworld before its sun swallows it? Don't you want to reconcile with your god before the heat death of your universe?

But Bill had no universe, no homeworld, no family; no lovers or friends or gods that hadn't betrayed him and left him to rot here; and he'd remained smugly steadfast in refusing to give D-SM5 and its minions anything else it could use to get under his chitin. He was proud that he was too broken for even the famed Theraprism to fix him.

A-AOX4 probably thought it had finally found an opening. It might be useful to let it keep thinking that.

"You kidding me? Earth? Pfff! I don't miss that overgrown asteroid one bit!" He waved off the suggestion, and winced when the gesture tugged wrong at his reopened wound. "But hey, you don't study a world for millions of years without finding a few things about it to like. The music's pretty good. And the movies and literature, though if you ask me, they peaked between the first two World Wars. I like trees, evolution did a great job with trees. And humans really went off with the architecture. The pyramids? 10 out of 10. And some of the locals aren't bad, I've got a few exes from Earth."

"Do you? How many exes?"

"Living? Just a hundred forty or fifty," Bill said dismissively. "Earthlings just have those pretty eyes, you know? I'm a sucker for a pretty eye! But outside of that, no, there's nothing on Earth for me."

"I see," A-AOX4 said lightly, and dropped the conversation.

Hook, line, and sinker.

####

The original definition of a "Goldilocks zone" came from astrobiology. The Goldilocks zone was the ring of space around a star in which an orbiting planet could support liquid water and thus water-based life: not too close to the star and too hot, not too far and too cold, but just right. Earth, for instance, orbited Sol in its Goldilocks zone.

It was from this definition that other, more metaphorical definitions of Goldilocks zones emerged. Such as the Theraprism's: a world that was neither too stressful nor too boring for a newly brainwashed—sorry, "cured"—patient. And apparently Earth was in that Goldilocks zone, too.

Which was very interesting to Bill—because in their search for a new home, the Henchmaniacs had come up with their own definition of a Goldilocks zone. For them, it was a dimension close enough to the Nightmare Realm with a thin enough barrier that they could easily punch through it, but not so close and so thin that puncturing the barrier would pop it like a balloon and cause the dimension to immediately prolapse into the Nightmare Realm—which was a problem they'd had before. More than once. They needed a dimension they could easily cut a hole into, but control it, so they could slowly pump the Nightmare Realm's contents in. A barrier neither too vulnerable nor too strong, but just right.

And wouldn't you know it—but Earth happened to be in that Goldilocks zone too. Right next to a point in the dimensional membrane so thin, the Nightmare Realm could almost stretch through and kiss it.

####

Since Bill Cipher was infamously known as the last survivor of a trillion-years-extinct species, and had until recently been capable of instantly repairing himself, there were no medical records on how his anatomy worked. It didn't help that at some point eons ago he'd somehow managed to graft a 3D exoskeleton to his 2D anatomy without breaking his own physics, meaning no one had seen his true body in recorded history. Bill knew how he worked, but refused to offer any hints. So the Theraprism staff had to guess at Bill's medical treatment.

But Bill was still made of energy, and even weakened he could eventually self-repair. So whenever his injury was exacerbated, the nurse tended to just patch up his exoskeleton to keep it stable enough to send him back to his room.

On top of his mysterious anatomy, the staff had no idea how to medicate his physiology. They knew he could be medicated—Bill's personal substance (ab)use experiments were notorious far outside the Nightmare Realm—but they had to treat him like a newly-discovered form of life in figuring out what affected him, how it affected him, and how much it took. He'd been on and off hundreds of drugs as they tried to chemically stabilize a mind for which they had no idea what baseline stability looked like. D-SM5 had told him that between the enormous doses needed to impact his energy-based physiology and the vast variety of drugs he'd been through, Bill's medication regimen was the most expensive in the Theraprism. He took some pride in that.

He had very few things to take pride in anymore. He clung to what meager victories he could.

If Bill got his way, he wouldn't be medicated at all. None of the substances they wanted him on were what he'd call recreational. (Although for a while he had gotten away with not telling the docs that one of his antipsychotics had given him a side-effect of kaleidoscopic hallucinations.) Plus there was the fact that he'd heard rumors that quite a few pharmaceutical execs were good pals with a certain director—not that Bill would name names, of course!—that's his motto, Don't Slander Maliciou5ly!

But when he resisted taking his meds, they could send in the guards to pin him down so a nurse could inject a sedative so strong he wouldn't remember anything that happened for the next few hours to months (hard to tell) until they started tapering it off... and although he'd rather die than admit it, after losing that fight five or six times, even he had to admit to himself it was a lot less scary to just take their rotten drugs. Better to go through his days with his mind dulled and hazy than blacked out altogether.

To retain what little pride he had left, he'd reached a compromise with his jailers.

When the nurse had finished attaching the reinforcing splints around Bill's injury, they grabbed a medication measurement cup, filled it halfway with syrupy eye drops, and double-checked Bill's chart as they dropped thirteen different pills (plus a fourteenth pill for a painkiller) in the cup.

As Bill redressed, he eyed the unappetizing cocktail of antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and things he'd forgotten the purpose of but that probably weren't doing whatever the doctors hoped and definitely weren't doing anything Bill liked. "My straw?"

"Right, right." The nurse handed over one of the wide-diameter disposable white straws they kept on hand for patients who struggled to drink (or, in Bill's case, patients they struggled to get to drink).

Only a tiny fragment of Bill was actually locked up in the Theraprism—like pinching the glowing lure of an anglerfish in a trap while the rest of the fish thrashed outside—and because most of Bill's vast energy was elsewhere, he was nearly powerless. But he still had enough energy to heat up a finger, twist the straw around it, and hold it there until it had melted into a new shape.

The nurse sighed. "Do you have to do that every time? You ruin more straws than you get right."

Imperiously, Bill said, "Leave me to my whimsy." He tugged off the straw when it had cooled down to examine the corkscrew shape he'd made. The wall was a little flattened in one place, but he could pinch it back open. "See? It's perfect!" Cheerfully ignoring the nurse, he stuck the straw in his cup and slurped down his pills like tapioca balls. He tried not to remember what was in them.

A-AOX4 had left Bill with the nurse, but the two mall cops with medical kinks known as Bill's personal guards were still waiting nearby. The nurse's office was next door to the cafeteria—for ease of patients picking up their medications at meal times—in an anteroom that was connected to the rest of the ward by a set of locked double doors. A couple of guards were stationed near those doors at all times, and generally the guards assigned to Bill hung around with them while Bill was in the cafeteria or nurse's office. Bill floated up to them, regarding them with the disinterest of a king ignoring the servants he expected to open doors for him, and continued to ignore them as they escorted him back to his cell, one in front and one behind, while he sipped on his drugged cocktail.

The Dimensional Tyrant Ward was already one of the most heavily-guarded wards in the Theraprism; but to reach the maximum security cells, a patient had to pass several increasingly heavy security checkpoints with increasingly impenetrable security doors. The final door was warded against all magic, unhackable, unbreakable, and so airtight that even without his exoskeleton there was no gap Bill's 2D form could slide through. The doors to each cell—outfitted with tiny one-way mirror portholes, no latches or hinges on the inside—were a little less heavy duty, but packed with just as many failsafes. The Dimensional Tyrant Ward's max security hall had the most advanced security architecture of any psychiatric facility in the multiverse.

Bill had made a trillion year career of trying to break his way through a door nobody wanted him to go through. He could think of seven different ways to get through the doors. Sooner or later he'd find a way out of this place altogether.

A few of the doors had modifications: this one with a metal slab over the porthole to protect passersby from the occupant's petrifying gaze, that one with extra soundproofed padding coating the door. Bill was almost insulted his own door didn't warrant any special modifications.

His favorite door was The Beast's. A comfortingly yellow triangular sign on the door displayed a black symbol of a steak. Red signs above and below read "CAUTION! FEED UNSEASONED MEAT ONLY." "NO SUGAR ALLOWED." The Beast's heavy snuffing was audible through the door; his hot, sickly sweet breath seeped through the slot in the door that had been installed to deliver his food.

Bill's escorts automatically drifted to the far side of the hall to avoid The Beast. Bill, whose first medication was already starting to kick in, zigzagged lazily back and forth across the hall, heedless of how close he came to The Beast's cell.

Bill had never seen this door opened once in all his time incarcerated, and the dust settled on the additional chains and padlocks stretched across the door showed just how long it had been since the last incident. But some of the patients who'd been here longer than Bill still couldn't bring themselves to speak of the last time he'd escaped. Elder eldritch gods shuddered and gibbered nervously at the mention of his name.

Bill tilted over to try to peer through the food slot at The Beast. A quivering, sickly blue eye stared back at him. Honestly, Bill thought The Beast was adorable.

Outside Bill's door, the guards waited for Bill to finish his medicine, hand over his cup and straw, and open his mouth and lift his eye out of the way so they could check and make sure he'd swallowed them.

And then he was left in his cell.

####

A perfect cube of uniform dull grey tiles supernaturally lit by a uniform dull grey glow, no light source, no shadows; in a max security room in the Maximum Security Wellness Center, patients weren't even trusted around light fixtures. The staff had removed everything Bill had used thus far to commit violence or attempt escape, plus a few more things as punishments for various infractions: journal, paint, pens, books, magazines, puppets (he missed those the most), even the furniture. He'd never earned the privilege of a TV or radio. By now, all he was permitted were black, red, yellow, and blue dry erase markers to draw on his walls—and the red and blue had gone dry; the "Be a TRY-angle!" poster they'd replaced whenever Bill left the room until he gave up and stopped tearing it down; and the clothes on his back. He'd gradually gotten himself banned from every extracurricular and recreational activity the Dimensional Tyrant Ward offered. Whenever he was fresh out of the SWV, when his restrictions were highest, his schedule consisted of mandatory individual therapy, mandatory group therapy, med checks, and the cafeteria.

He spent the vast majority of his time in his cell, sitting curled up alone, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating, waiting for nothing at all.

####

The seamless door swung open and admitted an Orb of Healing Light.

Bill blinked blearily up at the Orb. It was hard to tell how slowly time passed here, but he was sure it couldn't have been more than a couple hours since he'd been returned to his cell: that was when his medications made his mind the foggiest. "Emmyyy. Where ya been? Didn't see you when I came out of the Solitary Dullness Void. Nice of you to, uh..." A second ago he'd had a clever quip about how D-SM5 had clearly dropped by because it missed Bill, but he'd forgotten how to word it.

"Well, I'm here now. I'm flattered you missed me, Mr. Cipher."

Bill blinked heavily. "You turned that around on me," he griped. "Not fair." Ugh, the room was spinning. He flopped on his back.

"A-AOX4 tells me you showed an interest earlier in our outpatient reincarnation program," D-SM5 said. "Since it looks like your schedule is light these days, I thought you might be interested in attending Paingoreous's reincarnation?"

It took him a moment to process the offer. "Really? That's something people can attend?" What was the catch?

"We usually only extend the offer to the departing patient's friends, and—exemplary patients. But... I thought you might benefit from watching the process for yourself. It may encourage you to take a little more interest in your future."

For it to push a possible lead so fast, it really was desperate to find some leverage they could use on Bill. It probably thought of this as a rare opportunity—a patient from Ward 333 wasn't ready for reincarnation every day.

"Wow. I sure am encouraged," Bill said. "You have no idea just how encouraged I am."

####

If an unambitious office building and a utilitarian hospital reluctantly got married out of a vague sense of heteronormative social obligation, had a depressed child, and the fae spirited it away to replace it with an even more depressed changeling child, the child's small intestines would look a lot like the Theraprism's interior hallways: it was windowless, it was labyrinthine, it was beige, and it was grey, and it didn't even care anymore. Monotonous commercial high-traffic carpet alternated with monotonous commercial high-traffic linoleum. The fluorescent lights buzzed just enough to be annoying, but not quite enough that you'd feel justified in snapping and screaming "I've had it!" as you swung a pleather-seated metal chair at the light fixture.

Even though Bill had been languishing in the Theraprism for hours and/or millennia (Bill couldn't tell; he couldn't feel the passage of time), he hardly knew his way around the Dimensional Tyrant Ward, much less the rest of the facility. As D-SM5 led Bill (and six guards) out of Ward 333 and into a lower security zone, he looked for any scant identifiable landmarks and tried to memorize which turns they took by coding the lefts and rights and ups and downs into a mnemonic word. The walk helped wake him from his medication stupor; but his mind never quite felt fully on.

Bill had only briefly glimpsed the Theraprism's reincarnation unit during intake, just one of many rooms he'd been whisked past as he was dragged to Ward 333 screaming and cursing the Axolotl's name. Entering the unit now, it looked like an occult sacrificial altar carved from marble that had been modeled after a 23rd century starship's teleportation platform, contained in a room that looked like a magic planetarium: glowing stars hovered around the dome of the ceiling. Against the back wall in pale pink marble was carved an impossibly long axolotl, swimming in a figure 8 so its vapid smile almost caught the tip of its ribbonlike tail. Bill glowered at it. Backstabber.

He, D-SM5, and the other observers who'd already arrived were in a connected observation room with an enormous, thick window and a sealed door. Next to the window was a large computer console encased in the same marble as the reincarnation altar. That probably controlled the process.

The audience consisted of three aliens who looked a little like Paingoreous might have with his face unpeeled, a few patients and staff Bill recognized, more he didn't, and Jessica with the shining spherical head and the thirteen fingers. Oh boy. If he'd known Jessica would be here he would have tried to polish. Bill straightened his bow tie and smoothed his rumpled orange jumpsuit.

Paingoreous himself was already in the next room, standing on the altar. At the sight of Bill, his exposed facial muscles twitched, as though trying to widen his eyes even though their eyelids were already long gone. "Bill? What are you doing here?"

D-SM5 answered before Bill could blurt out a witty retort. "I invited Mr. Cipher. I thought he would benefit from seeing what he can look forward to once he's improved. I hope you don't mind."

Paingoreous's face immediately smoothed out. "Yes—of course, director, if you say so. I remember how difficult it was in the early days. I'm happy to help my fellow patients in any way I can." Suck up. A dry note entered his voice, "Especially a more troubled patient."

Bill took one of the folding chairs lined up in front of the window and shot back, "I'm about to have one less trouble! Byyye!" (Did Jessica think that was funny? Sometimes she did. He snuck a sideways glance to see if she was laughing. Oh, right—she didn't have a face.)

Paingoreous didn't dignify him with a response. Too good for the likes of Bill, no doubt. Paingoreous wasn't obligated to answer anybody—except the staff, of course.

Bill had never met the real Paingoreous. By the time Bill was committed, the monotony, medication, and mandatory therapy were already well on their way to killing whoever Paing had once been. No way the offensively bland sap leaving now was the same one who'd come in with his face skinned and muscles pinned open.

A technician was already turning on the computer console, running through a whole list of checks as the machine booted up. A hum filled the room as the altar began to softly glow. To all appearances Bill was facing forward, slitted pupil aimed straight at Paingoreous; but his anatomy was built for watching things out of the corner of his eye and his real attention was focused on the reincarnation technician. "So how's reincarnation work in this dump?" Bill asked D-SM5. "I didn't get the orientation."

"Yes you did," D-SM5 said. "I was there."

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't remember seeing you."

D-SM5 sighed. "First, Paingoreous's memories of his current life must be erased, to give him the best fresh start possible and to comply with Earth's soul sanitization regulations."

"Seems like a big waste of time. His head's already empty enough."

One of the Paing-ish aliens a couple seats over shot Bill a dirty look. "That's my son in there."

"Not for much longer, he isn't."

"Be respectful," D-SM5 said warningly.

Bill ignored it. "So once you've scrubbed his brain clean, what then?"

"Then, we reincarnate him. We've already carefully selected his destination and species; except for special circumstances, we generally don't customize the patient's body further, as the program is already set up to divinely design the body most well-suited to the soul about to inhabit it."

"If these bodies are so perfect, why customize them at all?"

"We wouldn't want, say, a recovering pyromaniac to be reborn with pyrokinesis." (Bill felt unfairly targeted.) "Once his species and destination are entered into the program, off he'll go to start his new life as an egg."

"An egg?! Sheesh, wasn't going through childhood once bad enough? I assume his childhood was bad, anyway! Nobody with competent parents ends up like him."

The Paing-ish alien beside Bill bolted out of their seat and lurched aggressively toward Bill. (Ha. Too easy.) The next alien over tugged them back by the arm. Bill was sure he heard a whispered, "Careful, do you know who that..."

D-SM5 said, "One more crack like that and you're going back to your cell."

"Fiiine. Why can't he skip straight to being a butterfly, though?" What he really wanted to find out was how to skip straight to adulthood.

"For starters, because spontaneous generation has been heavily restricted on Earth since the 15th century, and banned completely outside of special circumstances since the 19th century."

Spontaneous generation. The creation of fully formed life from unliving matter: maggots that emerged from flesh, geese that emerged from barnacles, snakes and crocodiles that wriggled out of the mud of the Nile. He'd always planned to legalize it again when he took over. So if the only reason the Theraprism couldn't do it was because it was banned, then they must have the technology for it, right?

Bill tuned D-SM5 out as it prattled on about the mental health benefits of restarting life and beginner's mind and boring therapeutic psychobabble, and ignored the flashing lights and divine music as Paingoreous's memory, personality, and identity were all wiped clean. He was only interested in what the reincarnation technician was doing. (Although when Bill briefly glanced at Paingoreous, his shape seemed somehow uncertain, as though his molecules had only just walked into the room and promptly forgotten what they'd come in for or who they were supposed to be. Ready to be reshaped into something else.)

The technician opened up the primary reincarnation program, checked a box confirming that the patient's previous incarnation had been erased, and began setting up the specifications for his next incarnation. Choosing the reincarnation world was easy enough: under the drop down menu, the "Goldilocks zone" worlds were sorted first. Earth was sixth on the list. Choosing a dimension was just as easy.

However, choosing the location and time period looked more complicated; rather than searching through a handy list of continents or geological epochs, the technician checked Paingoreous's patient file and typed a couple of long strings of numbers into the blanks for the coordinates and time. They didn't look like any date system or coordinate system Bill was familiar with. How the heck would he work with that?

And selecting the species, to Bill's horror, meant scrolling down a menu ordered by how frequently a species had been selected for reincarnation at this facility. That was insane! The Theraprism always discharged patients as unambitious species where one member was nearly incapable of making a meaningful impact on the local biosphere—anything useful like an octopus or a goat would be buried amongst the literal billions of species that had received zero reincarnations. Couldn't you just start typing the species's name to jump down to—? But no, the Theraprism's keyboard didn't have characters to type human loan words. The technician seemed to be scrolling manually.

That was fine! That was fine. Whatever Bill left as, he wouldn't be it for very long. He wasn't shopping for a makeover; just for an escape pod.

The technician located Vanessa atalanta (147 prior reincarnations) and kept moving, tabbing past a dizzying array of options—sex, size, coloration, visual clarity, caterpillar spine distribution, a whole list of health conditions and mutations the technician skipped—and every box she tabbed past automatically filled in with the word "DEFAULT". How many boxes could be filled in with defaults?

Bill leaned toward D-SM5. "So do you chuck these suckers out anywhere random on the planet or what?"

"Of course not," it said promptly. "What a thought! We take a deep interest in our discharged patients' well-being. We never leave where they spend their next lives at the whim of the computer's randomized decision."

But they could leave it up to the computer. Still watching sideways as the technician scrolled past an "advanced settings" button without touching it (was that where the spontaneous generation option was hidden?), Bill asked, "Do youalways choose for the patient, or can the patient make requests?"

Dryly, D-SM5 said, "Unless you make some enormous progress, I doubt you'd get clearance to reincarnate anywhere near that town you terrorized, if that's what you're wondering."

"What! Who said I want to visit that crummy valley! All those mountains and trees? Ugh! No, do you know what kind of place I like? The Greater Cairo metropolitan area. Dry! Sandy! Flat!" said Bill, who detested flat landscapes with all his heart. "Covered in pyramids! Sometimes with my face on them! Plus there's the Nile! I love the Nile! I love being in the Nile! I'd spend all my time in the Nile if I could! I've had some loser ex-friends say that living your whole life in the Nile is an unhealthy coping mechanism to avoid addressing problems in your life, but if you ask me they're just jealous of how amazing my life is—"

"Ready for reincarnation," the technician said. "Proceed?"

D-SM5 left its seat, hovering closer to the glass to catch Paingoreous's attention. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," said Paingoreous, who clearly wasn't certain what he was claiming to be ready for.

"Proceed," D-SM5 said. Bill fell silent, paying close attention to how the technician began the reincarnation process.

She clicked a button that said "EXECUTE" (gruesome), clicked through a couple more confirmation screens, and then the faint background hum grew to a rumble and the magical stars glowed brighter. "Ten seconds," she said. "Nine... eight... seven..."

"Hey!" Bill shouted through the glass. "Friendly tip for Earth! Humans love when you fly into their eyeballs! You should do that!"

D-SM5 rounded on Bill, glowing furiously at him. (Maybe it was Bill's imagination, but he thought Jessica looked amused. Worth it.)

The soon-to-be caterpillar formerly known as Paingoreous stared in confusion at Bill. "Okay," he said—and then there was a bright flash of light.

He let out an awful wail of pure soul-rending agony.

When the light faded, he was gone.

The observation room had fallen perfectly silent.

"That's fine," D-SM5 said. "That's—that's normal."

####

Every once in a while, the Theraprism got something right. It was one of the few big government-sponsored "respectable" institutions that didn't make a fuss about how Bill ate. They just let him go to the cafeteria, strip down, unpeel his exoskeleton, and hang out with the photosynthesizers for half an hour or so in the corner under the grow lights. No gasps of horror or screams of outrage—not from the staff anyway; some of the patients took a bit to get used to it when they were new. It was a refreshing change.

On the other hand, even though they were willing to turn a couple lights high enough to melt most mortals' eyeballs when Bill was feeding, he never left feeling truly energized. The grow lights were designed for species with leaves and solar panels; they weren't designed to fuel up a god made of energy. A few bright lightbulbs didn't measure up to raw starlight.

He figured there wasn't any point in complaining. As much as he hated feeling like a gas tank trying to burn a dust mote for fuel, he knew that they knew that long before he even reached 1% of his usual power, he'd be strong enough to vaporize the Theraprism with the snap of a finger.

When he'd had his daily dose of light, he folded shut, redressed, and drifted over to the actual food for dessert. He grabbed a bottle of an allegedly "lemon" nigh-flavorless clear soda—this would do—and hovered toward the exit.

The cafeteria monitor stationed in the door elbowed her way in front of Bill. "Ahem."

"What?"

"You know the rules. No food outside the cafeteria."

"What! This isn't food, it's a soda. Beverages aren't food, everyone knows that." The monitor didn't budge. Bill tried whining. "C'mooon, I got injured in the void today. Look at this!" He gestured demonstratively at his splints. "Look how much pain I'm in!"

The Solitary Wellness Void made this cafeteria monitor uncomfortable. She'd never said so directly, but she tended to turn a blind eye when patients who'd just come out of the SWV were more aggressive than usual or tried to sneak extra desserts. One time when Bill had come out of a week in the SWV, she'd wordlessly slipped him a couple of packets of low-sodium fear sauce, a condiment usually distributed exclusively to the obligate phobophages in the ward. "Besides, it's my birthday! I'm a birthday triangle! You wouldn't deny a birthday triangle a soda, right?"

"Is it really your birthday?"

"Heck if I know. It could be. I don't know it isn't."

She was trying not to smile. "Fine. Just one time. Don't let anyone catch you with it and finish it before you're back in your cell."

"You got it, toots." Bill glided past her.

He slipped from the cafeteria into the nurse's office before his guards could catch sight of his illicit drink. "Hey, bartender! I'm here for my nightcap."

The nurse prepared Bill's evening battery of drugs. He bent his straw into a fun zigzag—honestly it was really more of a sad N shape—slurped down half the eyedrops, and opened his soda to refill his cup.

The nurse looked over at the hiss of the cap opening. "Hey! Hey—"

"It's just soda!" Bill protested. "The cafeteria monitor said it was fine! Besides, what's a little soda gonna do? Nullify all seven of my antipsychotics before I reach my cell?" (Bill had overheard the nurse grumbling to a colleague about the amount of antipsychotics he was on. They thought it was utterly excessive, considering that they'd had no evidence the drugs were doing anything but making him more erratic—which was something, because Bill had seen patients near drooling catatonia from their meds without any of the nurses questioning their current dosage. Conversely, the docs thought Bill's odd biology meant they needed to give him more if they wanted any hope of impacting him.) "Come on. It's not even caffeinated!"

The nurse took the soda bottle to check the ingredient list, then relented. "Fine. I suppose it won't do any harm."

"You're a peach." Bill topped off his cup, poured the rest of the soda over his eye, crushed the bottle, and consumed it too.

"The plastic probably isn't good for you, though."

"I like the way it melts in the back of my throat."

As he drank his medicated soda and got escorted back to his cell, he lazily drifted back and forth in the hall as far as the guards would let him go, dawdling more than usual—he knew they hated it when he dawdled, but they knew he hated spending one second more in his cell than necessary and grudgingly put up with a little lollygagging to keep the peace. But their tolerance ran out in the max security hall as Bill slowed down even further near The Beast's cell. The guard behind Bill pushed him. "Hurry up."

"Hey!" Bill wobbled off path and stumbled into the wall, spilling some of his drink. "What's your problem!"

"You stopped moving."

"I did not! I'm just taking my time! Enjoying the weather out here."

"Well, take less time."

"Ugh, fine. Didn't realize you had plans I'm keeping you from." Bill rolled his eye and kept moving.

"Hold it!"

Bill froze. He turned around. The guard was pointing at a streak of clear fluid that had spilled from Bill's cup and rolled down the door. His bones frosted over.

"You dropped a pill," the guard said.

Bill's gaze focused on the circular soap-green tablet on the floor. "Are you kidding?! Aren't the other twelve enough?"

"No exceptions, Cipher."

"You don't expect me to eat it off the floor!"

"Do you want to go all the way back to the nurse's office for another?"

Bill groaned in frustration. "Fine!" He snatched it up, wiped it off on the guard's sleeve, and popped it in his mouth. The guard raised a fist; Bill bared his fangs; and after a tense moment, the guard backed down first. The Theraprism had taken nearly every other power from Bill, but it couldn't take his teeth—and though he knew the guards would win any fight, Bill could make it hurt.

They returned him to his room; Bill handed over his cup; they checked to make sure his cup was empty, inspected his mouth, and locked him in.

He hoped they wouldn't notice that half his pills had stuck in the zig-zag bend of the opaque white straw.

He hoped they wouldn't notice The Beast's tongue thrusting through his food slot to lap up the spilled soda that was running down his door and over the bright red "NO SUGAR ALLOWED" sign.

His entire plan hinged on it.

####

Bill was drawing on the wall with his scant art supplies when he felt reality ripple around him, like the wave in a still pool when someone new quietly slides into the water. He looked up from his work. It was happening.

There were several thuds; then a crash; and then the peal of a prison alarm piercing the air. The alarm melted into shrill dolphin-like laughter, and then the frenetic staccato of a hyper speed dance song that threatened to fracture Bill's internal organs. He shuddered as the sound tore at his wound like freezing ice crystals expanding a crack in a boulder.

But he rose into the air and turned to face the door, ready.

Just in time for the door to vanish. The Theraprism melted away like mist in the sunlight—and oh, the sunlight was glorious. The wide open sky pulsed maddening colors so vivid that the faraway rainbows looked monotone in comparison; the land consisted of rolling hills of candy-coated tongues and stomachs and muscles, the paws of enormous buried corpses thrusting up into the sky, the crevasses between burial mounds running with artificially-flavored saliva. It was Bill's kind of place. He wished he had time to hang around.

Before him, orange fur matted with a fine dust of powdery sugar, wild eyes contracted to pinpricks, stood The Beast.

"You did it, you beautiful monster!" Bill shrieked with laughter. "I knew you'd come through!"

The Beast rumbled, "Em deerf evah uoy."

"You're welcome! You can return the favor later! Me, I have somewhere to be." While The Beast was asserting his personal reality on top of the Theraprism's idea of reality, none of the Theraprism's walls or doors existed. Bill wasn't sure exactly how far The Beast's radius of influence extended, except that it was at least far enough to get him out of the maximum security hall—but he had to move now, before the guards rallied to sedate The Beast. Bill slipped a finger into the band of his ankle bracelet and found that under the influence of The Beast's physics, the stiff plastic stretched like a warm rubber band. He tugged it off and tossed it aside. "Seeya, pal!"

But The Beast held up a paw, blocking Bill before he could zip off. "Noob ym tpecca," The Beast said. "Hself ym emusnoc."

"Oooh. Woww." Bill looked at The Beast's candy paw. "Oh, man. Generous offer! You have no idea how tempting it is to take a taste, but I've really gotta get somewhere, and I've gotta be at least sober enough to pull that off..."

"Emusnoc," The Beast insisted. "Hsur ragus eht fo ssendam gnilims citatsce eht ni em nioj. Rehtegot srorroh letsap dna serusaelp kcis hcus wonk lliw ew. Evarg lufituaeb ym ni em htiw tor."

Bill stared again at the paw. The tip of his tongue slipped out beneath his eye to lick hungrily at his waterline. When was the last time he'd been on something that felt good? "Oh, what the heck!" He took The Beast's paw. "I can do this buzzed! How much damage can one little lick do, anyway?"

####

The guard heaved open the maximum security hall's door. The floor was covered in tacky pools of neon candy and removed ankle monitors. "It's just like we feared," the guard shouted into a walkie-talkie, glancing quickly through each cell door's window. "Every single max security patient escaped under The Beast's reality-altering field."

The guard stopped at the sight of neon yellow and orange, peering through the window at the triangle flopped flat on the ground and surrounded by powdery pink sugar.

"Well," the guard said, "all of them except Cipher."

Through the walkie-talkie, D-SM5 tiredly said, "He licked the paw, didn't he."

"Looks like it, boss."

D-SM5 groaned. "All right! Positive thinking! That's the second biggest threat in the ward already accounted for! Silver lining to Mr. Cipher's substance use issues. Assist in securing the others."

####

The good news was that The Beast seemed happy to frolic randomly around the Theraprism rather than head toward the exit, forcing the other escapees to follow along to remain under his reality-altering protection rather than get stranded in small rooms and locked-down halls. The bad news was that his meandering route let him pick up more and more revelers. After an hour, only a third of the max security patients had been re-captured and dragged back to their cells, and twice as many medium security patients had joined the riot.

A-AOX4 was on hand in the maximum security hall to supervise as the guards brought in super-powered escapees. Most of them came back loopy on either The Beast's toxins or on the sedative that had been injected to keep them calm. A-AOX4 was checking them for awareness of their surroundings—name, where are you, when are you, why are you here—as each one was locked back in their cell.

And each time it passed by Bill's cell, it glanced in, concerned.

Bill had been almost pleasant when he'd come out of the Solitary Wellness Void—maybe after all those sessions in isolation he was finally ready to be more of a team player. And D-SM5 had said that he'd been unusually well-behaved and attentive during the reincarnation. A-AOX4 had hoped their most surly patient was finally opening up. It would be a shame if this incident with The Beast resulted in his new progress backsliding.

Plus, it took a heavy dose of anything to impact Bill at all, much less knock him out cold. He'd already had to go to the nurse earlier today; what if he needed medical attention?

So after locking up the latest subdued prisoner, A-AOX4 said to one of the guards, "Take over monitoring incoming patients. I'm checking on Cipher."

It unlocked the door and hovered into the room. "Cipher?"

No response. He was plastered flat to the floor.

"Bill?" It floated lower to check his condition.

He was paper.

Paper meticulously colored in with yellow marker and folded into a triangle; scraps of paper colored black, carefully torn into hand and feet shapes, and shoved in the sleeves and pants of his prison uniform.

A-AOX4 lifted up the paper. On the other side was Bill's "Be a TRY-angle!" poster. He'd written across it, "IS THIS TRYING HARD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

It turned toward the door—and discovered Bill had filled the wall with a drawing of himself making an obscene gesture, with a word bubble that read, "GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE AX! And tell Jessica I said bye xoxo"

It zoomed out into the hallway and grabbed its walkie-talkie. "Director SM5! Cipher's escaped his cell! He left a decoy! He's not with The Beast, we don't know where he is!"

There was a moment of dead air. And then the director growled, "I think I have an idea."

####

Trying to keep his giggles as quiet as possible, Bill looped through the Theraprism's halls, drifting between The Beast's rolling fields of hard candy corpses and the Theraprism's rigid monotone halls. What had he been worried about! Getting hopped up on astralplanar sugar before escaping his cell had been a great idea! It gave him instant shortcuts through half the walls! And he could handle a little buzz like this! He was totally in control of his actions and knew exactly what he—

How long had he been flying the wrong direction? He turned around. Wow was he high, he could barely focus on anything but all the colors. He wondered if The Beast's toxins had any weird interactions with his meds.

He was lucky The Beast had decided to dawdle around the Dimensional Tyrants Ward: here at the far end of the Theraprism, there were no signs of crisis beyond the sealed doors indicating the facility was under lockdown—and once he was outside a high security ward, there were plenty of cracks, gaps, and vents that Bill was thin enough to slide through. He hadn't even seen a guard since he'd left his cell. By the time he reached the reincarnation room, The Beast's landscape was fading out and the sugar crash headache was fading in, but the facility was still on lockdown and no one seemed to be looking for Bill. He slipped beneath the locked door and powered up the console to the reincarnation machine.

He skipped straight to the reincarnation program and checked the box that said, yes, the patient's brain had been washed. He paused when a warning pop-up blocked the screen. The technician hadn't gotten a pop-up. He had to read over the two-sentence warning three times before he understood what he was looking at. The soul sanitization routine hadn't been run recently, was he sure the patient's memory was erased—ugh, yes. He irritably clicked the confirmation and hoped that would be the last of it.

Bill quickly selected Earth and dimension 46'\; he tabbed past the coordinates and date, and they both automatically filled in "DEFAULT." D-SM5 had said the computer would make a "random" decision if you didn't plug in a time and place, but the staff didn't know Earth like Bill did. If he left the time and place up to the whims of fate, then something as weird as a trillion-year-old alien chaos god escaping a criminal insane asylum to spontaneously generate as a fully grown mortal would be sucked straight into the weirdest place and time on Earth. Gravity Falls: August, 2012. Weirdmageddon. He was willing to bet his life on it.

He was betting his life on it.

After that, with any luck, he'd be able to shed his new body like any other puppet and return to his castle in the sky. If for some reason he couldn't get out of it, he'd only need to pull a couple of magic tricks outside a normal mortal's capabilities to catch his past self's attention, find a way to prove his identity—heck, with any luck, they'd be seeing through each other's eyes and that would instantly confirm it—warn his past self about the Pines' treachery, prevent his own death, save Weirdmageddon, restructure the universe in his image, and rule his new party paradise as god-king for all eternity. Easy.

He scrolled down the list of available creatures, looking for something that would be easy to reach the Fearamid and prove his intelligence with—something with vocal cords that could speak eye-bat would be useful, it'd save him a lot of trouble if he could just shout at his sentinels in their own language and startle them into listening—but, to his surprise, the first useful species he found was humans, down amongst the species that had received a single-digit number of reincarnations from the Theraprism. Really, humans? They allowed that?

Over the blaring alarm, a voice made an announcement. He completely tuned it out—and only realized a moment after it ended that he'd heard his own name. They knew he'd escaped.

Bill didn't have time to search for anything better. He selected humanity.

He tabbed past dozens of features he could choose from for his body—default default default default—who cared what the body peed out of, he wasn't keeping the thing long enough to fill its bladder! He clicked open the advanced settings—there, spontaneous generation! He hoped this thing wouldn't drop him on the sidewalk as a baby, but usually when a human suddenly popped into existence, it was an adult sculpted from clay or something, right? He'd be fine! He checked the box for spontaneous generation.

He got another error message. He groaned. He wasn't sober enough for this.

Something about spontaneous generation being banned on Earth after 1859, is he willing to assume the liability if the patient generates after—yeah sure whatever, he clicked yes. Another pop-up prompted him for the digital signature of the person assuming liability. He typed in D-SM5's name.

As soon as he clicked enter, another error message popped up. "What!!"

He flinched at the sound of a muffled pneumatic hiss. Outside, somebody had unlocked the doors to this hallway. The alarm was still blaring; the Theraprism wasn't coming off lockdown. That meant whoever had unlocked the hall was coming for him.

"Focusss." He skimmed the new warning. Something about humans being on a list of species for which spontaneous generation was restricted—what loser had written a law about that! Who cared if a fully-formed, brand-new human popped out of thin air in the middle of town! What about Bill's wants?! He checked another box YES HE'S SURE HE WANTS TO SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATE A HUMAN YOU MONSTER and pounded enter.

Another pop-up. It wanted to know on which god's authority the spontaneous generation had been authorized.

Bill froze. Why did it need to know. Would it check? A machine that could reincarnate a soul was probably also a machine that could shoot off a prayer. Or was Bill supposed to have some kind of divine authorization code? Which gods were even allowed to authorize that kind of thing? He didn't know which stupid legislative body had made this stupid law or what their stupid definition of a god was! Gods weren't even real, they were just stupid, arrogant, stuck-up jerks who were powerful enough to trick people into thinking they were important! Like Bill! What name were they looking for?!

He heard voices in the hallway. He darted over to the door, slid his fingers through the seams around the doorframe to crush the latching mechanism so it couldn't be opened, and darted back. That wouldn't hold them long; he knew from experience that the guards could bust down the doors in these low security wings without much difficulty.

"Bill Cipher!" That was D-SM5. It had come personally? In any other circumstance, he'd be flattered. "Open up immediately!"

"Has that ever worked?" A god, a god, a god... his eye caught on the bas relief at the back of the next room. If there was any god this place would accept orders from... The guards were ramming the door; the bending metal groaned. He typed "THE AXOLOTL" and hit enter.

The button grayed out but the pop-up didn't go away. The screen froze. "What." Bill tried clicking again. The cursor turned into one of those little spinning balls that meant the computer was quietly having a stroke. "No no no no—"

D-SM5 hollered, "You know what the consequences will be if you don't—"

"I'm not listeniiing to yooou!"

"You're only going to hurt yourse—"

Dropping his voice to a demonic boom to drown out the director, Bill recited, "'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited! People were not—" There was a shriek of tearing metal, and then a bright glow behind Bill as D-SM5 peered through the gap in the door. Bill started talking faster, "'Were not invited they went there they got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island and somehow—'"

The pop-up disappeared. The cursor returned to normal. The box next to spontaneous generation was checked. Bill stared for a split second, then quickly closed out the advanced settings, scrolled to the bottom of the page, and hit "EXECUTE."

Someone blasted the door out of its frame; based on the blinding glow that accompanied the blast, Bill suspected that wasn't one of the guards, but D-SM5 itself. He frantically clicked through the next two confirmations, flung a couple of folding chairs toward D-SM5 and its thugs, and dove beneath the door to the next room. Ten seconds.

"Cancel the reincarnation!" D-SM5 snapped.

A guard ran to the console. (What if they saw where Bill had gone? They could probably guess the planet, but would the computer keep records of his destination, what his new body looked like—) "I don't see a cancel! I don't think—"

"Then get him off the altar!"

Five seconds. Please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please— Bill hadn't broken the door between the observation room and the altar; the guards easily unlocked it. "No no no—!"

"Don't let him esc—!"

Three seconds. An impossibly bright light shone down on Bill. He reflexively peeled open his exoskeleton to accept it. LIGHT—oh, he felt even more alive than the time he'd stolen a bottle of stimulants from the nurse station, ground them up, and snorted them off Mrs. Mirrorcube's back. His eye widened, taking in as much free energy as he could—and then he focused his gaze through the window on the console, focusing the infinite light into a laser powerful enough to instantly melt through the window and explode the computer. The guards fell back, trying to shield their tender mortal flesh from the fury of Bill's fire. Enjoy the blisters.

D-SM5 bellowed, "Bill Cipher, you mo—!"

"CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SUCKA!" He could feel his body ripping apart, cracking open at the wound. It hurt, but not the hurt of dying; it was the euphoric hurt of spaghettification, of being infinitely sucked beyond a beautiful event horizon. Bill's triumphant cackle filled the air—

—and then the room was silent and dark, and Bill was gone.

####

(If you're new here: I posted this as a one shot because I think we could all use a little Bill escaping from Theraprism, yeah? However it's ALSO part of my ongoing Bill-stuck-in-a-human-body fic I'm currently editing for TBOB compatibility. So, if you enjoyed this and want to see where post-reincarnation Bill goes, check out the fic!! And if you DON'T want to read the rest of the fic, I hope you enjoyed the one shot and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

If you do check out the main fic be forewarned it's only 100% TBOB compatible up to chapter 6. After that it is, bizarrely, 98% TBOB compatible, because somehow I accidentally wrote a fic that lines up with the book so well that I'm legit worried people could use TBOB to work out fic spoilers. But I still need to edit the remaining 2%.

If you're NOT new here: hey gang this is the new chapter 6!!! I finished editing this chapter about fifteen minutes before post time so it's not as polished as my usual chapters, but I hope it didn't read that way. Anyway, I look forward to hearing what y'all think!)

#bill cipher #theraprism #the book of bill #the book of bill spoilers #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher #(posting this like a oneshot because it basically is and i want people to be able to read it like a one shot)#(however it's ALSO the new chapter six)

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medicinemane · 1 year ago

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#the sad thing is if I were someone else I actually probably could... eh... not even sure what to call it #but I'd know a couple things that wouldn't fix me but would help; exact same shit as I'd do in any other case #but it doesn't work from the inside #it's the same way you can only kind of feel yourself touching yourself; like it's really dulled compared to other stuff touching you #like I could do it; and I even kind of have done it in the past; but it doesn't really do that much when it's me #doubt it does much when I do it for anyone else either cause it's not like anything I do is particularly useful #but... at least it seems to do anything when it does nothing when I direct it at me #I don't know... think I'm just kind of an empty void that happens to animate some meat and it needs to stop

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writersdrug · 2 months ago

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no thoughts just waitress!reader showing up for shifts like nothings wrong after the date situation

just keeping it calm and professional. working her shifts efficiently and no longer bantering/flirting with ghost, who would rather reader melt down and tear into him than putting up the walls around herself hehe

Ok I'm combining some asks here that had some different ideas - I got so many of you guys demanding reparation for making reader cry 😭 here's the comfort chapter! (Still a tad angsty at the beginning)

Ghost had finished your tips for you that night. He had half a mind to slide a hundred in your payout folder as an apology for ruining your date... but what good would that do? That would make you quit for good, if you hadn't already.

He lays in his bed, eyes stuck to the ceiling, still in his jeans and black shirt. He wishes he could snuff out the guilt that sits heavily in his gut. He wonders what you're doing - probably crying, possibly making a half-assed voodoo doll of himself and stabbing his chest with a dull steak knife, because that's all he feels right now.

He gets up early the next day after a rough three hours of sleep. He lumbers down the stairs to the office - Price is there, sorting out cash and working on the next supply order. He looks at Simon, who's rubbing his eyes and looking worse for wear.

"Mornin'." Price says, turning back to the monitor. Ghost grunts in response, dropping himself onto the couch behind Price. His head aches from the lack of sleep, thoughts circling in his mind about how to apologize to you. He can imagine you won't want to talk to him - or, if you do, it'll most likely be profanities wedged between insults. He'd love for you to berate him right now, and make him feel like he got what he deserved.

Price sighs. "You sleep alright?"

"I've had better."

"Nightmare?"

"... yea, somethin' like that."

Price huffs. "I'm workin' front of house today." He says, grabbing the bag of tips and standing up. "Goin' down to drop these in the safe, then I'll help you stock up."

Simon opens his eyes, looking at Price with confusion. "You?"

Price nods. "Dove called out sick. Sounded like she's got the lurgy."

That delivers the final blow to Simon. He knows you're not sick - you're avoiding him now. All plans to apologize are now out the window, and the more time passes, the harder it'll be to do it.

"You've only got yourself to blame, Simon." Price says, heading down to the restaurant floor.

He curses under his breath as Price leaves. How he heard about what happened - he could only assume it had been from Soap. He drops his arm over his face and groans. He wants to call out himself, but then they might as well shut down the entire pub for the day.

Should he try phoning you? Would you answer, let alone allow him to get more than five words out? What would he say? "Sorry I ruined your date, I was jealous tha' ya got a life outside of the pub." There is no variation of an apology that feels like it would be enough. He made you cry, for fucks sake. That was a punishment in and of itself, but he still had to own up to what he'd done.

He sighs loudly; his body feels heavy as he drags himself off the couch, trudging down the stairs. He still has a bar to run.

It had to have been the longest shift of Simon's life, and he even wrapped things up a bit earlier than usual. He didn't have the gift of your incessant chatting or being able to tease you to make the time pass. Price was a solid companion in front of house, but there was hardly a conversation to be held - even with the usual bar crowd. The patrons had a look of confusion for the majority of the night, wondering why Soap wasn't popping his head out of the kitchen to chat every once in a while - and why the hell the owner was serving tables, and not the chipper, spunky waitress.

When Simon had locked up for the night, he noticed your bike was no longer in the alley. Johnny must have dropped it off on the way back to his place.

Today isn't much different - at least, not for Simon. He's still suffering from a lack of sleep, he's irritable (he had a spat with Johnny in the morning, over something he can't even remember), and his work ethic is suffering. He's not worried about slicing bar fruit; it'll give him something to do later, when he needs it. Maybe the rush will kick him back into shape.

He stares at the dishes on the edge of the bar - they're all in need of a good polish, but he finds himself stuck on staring at the bar fridge. There's nothing else he needs to stock up on - it's packed completely full with wine, champagne, and cans of beer. He gently kicks the side of it with his boot. He should be checking the to-go boxes, helping Soap with setting up the condiments and soups, making sure the tables all had full salt and pepper shakers. That's what you would be doing. But, you're not here, and neither is Price. He can only hope tonight isn't as busy as the previous night, otherwise he'll have to close some tables. Which would make customers mad. Which would make Price mad. Which would-

Suddenly, he hears three loud bangs against the back door. He freezes, the sound triggering a Pavlovian response. He immediately looks up to the kitchen window - Soap opens the door, and you come jogging inside. You greet him with a smile. He asks how you're feeling, and you say "much better".

He doesn't know what to do with himself, but he just stands there like an idiot as you hang your bag and jacket on a hook. Stands there as you push your way into the restaurant, barely sparing him a glance as you scurry by him. Stands there as you run up the stairs, two at a time, diving nose-first into your chores so you can avoid Simon.

He can't speak. Should he? What can he say? "I'm sorry," for starters, but it isn't that simple. He thought you might have quit, and was preparing his heart for the worst. But now, here you are, running back and forth through the pub and setting up your tables - and it feels like you've never been farther away from him.

In all honesty, you can't bring yourself to talk to him either. You're feeling just as ashamed with your behavior two nights ago as he is about his own. Why the fuck would you expect someone - let alone your boss - to do your chores so that you could run off and have fun on a date? Not only that, but you'd made a scene; you felt like you had half-assed the ice bins in your scramble to get them cleaned, and then you sobbed in the middle of the restaurant. The cherry on top, however, was when you called Price yesterday and told him you had a cold, calling out of your shift. It was a cowardly thing to do, and you could tell he wasn't buying your story.

But: bills need to be paid, rent is due, and you can't lose this job. So you sucked it up and came in today - Simon is easy enough to ignore, separated from you by the bar.

At first, the quiet bartender was relieved that you had showed up for your shift - he wouldn't have searched for a new waitress if you had quit, instead choosing to deal with the consequences of his actions. But he's quickly getting more and more irritated with the silent treatment you're serving. You only talk to him when necessary: a simple "thanks" when you grab your drinks and run them to your tables. You busy yourself between rolling silverware, (over)stocking napkins and condiments, and even going so far as to spray the menus down and scrub them with a rag. You spend more time in the kitchen with Soap; each peal of laughter shared between the two of you is another arrow in Simon's chest. He's stuck behind the bar, listening to woes spilling from drunken lips, forced to watch you flit around and pretend he doesn't exist.

You can't keep this up forever.

Still, you do for most of the night. Even when your shift is coming to an end, the kitchen closed while you close the tabs for your remaining tables, you don't cave and sit at the bar with Simon. You sit at the farthest table from him, the farthest chair, in fact, skimming over your tip receipts - and talking to Soap (who was only able to sit with you since you had helped him knock out his tasks).

Simon's never been as angry with Soap as he is now - and the worst part is he knows it's not justified. He's watching from behind the bar, polishing glasses so hard they might wane into cups. He wants to talk to you. He will talk to you before the night is over. He doesn't expect forgiveness, but he expects that you'll at least let him offer an apology.

One of the regulars at the bar looks to whatever Simon is glaring at, chuckling quietly when he sees you. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Stuff it, Mike." Simon grumbles.

Meanwhile, you walk back from closing out your last table, plopping back in the booth with Soap. "What are you doing after this?"

"Sleepin'." he replies instantly, tossing back an onion ring. "Been dealin' with a grumpy bawbag since early this mornin', and I'm beat."

You glance over at the bar; Simon's back is facing you as he organizes the beer glasses. You really should apologize to him... you just couldn't figure out when the right time would be. He'd still be working by the time your shift ends, and you don't even know if he wants to speak to you at this point.

"Is he mad at me?" you ask, tapping your pen on the table.

Soap sighs. "I'm not goin' t' be the middle man, Bonnie." he says, looking at you intently. "If ye feel like somethin' needs to be said, go talk to 'im."

You groan, leaning back against the seat. "It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"It just isn't! He's already pissed at me, and he probably thinks I'm a slacker. What good is an apology?"

"Ye won't know 'til ye talk to 'im, hmm?"

"What if he fires me?"

Johnny barks with laughter, and you frown. "I'm being serious."

"He'd never fire ye." he says, getting up out of the booth. He stretches both arms above his head and lets out a grunt. "In fact, he was throwin' a fit yesterday n' today 'fore ye came in. Bitch took it out on me."

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

"Save it fer 'im." Soap interjected. He left you at the booth with the onion rings and your tips, disappearing into the kitchen. You huff, hunching back over your tips and scribbling through them.

Deep down, you know Soap is right. If anything, you could just apologize to Simon. If he chooses to be grumpy about it, so be it. You've got tough skin... still, you can't stand the thought of him being upset with you - not because of your work ethic, but because you liked him. A lot. And you wanted him to like you back, even if it was in the most platonic way.

But that didn't change anything. An apology was due, and you were going to give him one before you left tonight.

You grabbed an onion ring and popped it in your mouth, grimacing when you realized they were cold. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Simon making his was across the floor to your booth.

Great. Guess the apology is coming now.

He stops at the edge of the table, wiping his hands in a rag. You pretend to punch numbers into your phone's calculator, but they're all random - you just want to look like you're busy.

"May I sit?" he asks, tucking the rag into his back pocket.

You mumble out a "sure", still not looking at him. You hear his large frame slide into the seat across from you, polyester squeaking underneath his weight. You continue to do random equations on your calculator, letting a thick blanket of tension settle between the two of you. You can feel his stare burning into your head, his arms folded over his chest... and you notice that his mask is in his hand. You finally look up at him.

It's not the first time you've seen his face - you've caught glimpses of it when he smokes in the alley, or when he eats whatever Soap throws under the warmer for you and Simon. But this time, he's not taking it off to be convenient. And, dear god, you're just now paying attention to how scarred, rugged, and handsome he is - but now's not the time for those kinds of thoughts. You feel like he's reaching out an olive branch, showing a possible vulnerable side to himself. So, you place your pen on the table and lean back.

He stays quiet for a moment longer, trying to figure out how to start this. He wants to make sure that you know he's here to apologize, not to ask for forgiveness. From his silence, you assume he's waiting for you to go first.

"I'm sorry about Tuesday night." you say, eyes dropping to the table. Simon's astounded that you're the one apologizing, but you continue. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, and I'm sorry for trying to dump my job on you."

He feels worse, now. Was that even possible? He was expecting anger, insults - a detailed, frustrated explanation of what you did last night since you did not go on that date. But you're the one saying sorry? You think you're to blame for all of this unspoken aggression? Oh, you really do confuse him, sometimes...

"You don't need t' be sorry, luv." he says, gazing at you with a softness you'd never seen before, not in his brown eyes, at least.

"No, I do." you say, nearly pleading with him to let you be apologetic. "I was being a brat, and whether you usually do the ice bins or not, I shouldn't have expected you would do them without asking." You push your pen on the table, doing your best to convey your feelings. "And yeah, I was late for my date, but... well, he sounded like a dick, anyways."

Simon chuckles, watching you stare at the table. "Well, I owe you an apology, too. I jus'..." he sighed heavily, running a hand down his jaw. "I don' even know. Guess I was bein' lazy, or... I got jealous tha' you've got a life outside of this pub. Feels like you belong here."

He immediately regrets saying that - it sounds way too possessive and... just straight up weird. But you smile, taking comfort in the fact that he still wants you here. That this was the whole reason behind the mess.

"Soap called you a bitch. Said you were an asshole all day."

Simon scoffs. "Yea... 'm pretty sure Price would tell ya the same. And he wants ya back, too. Couldn't stand waitin' on tables, he was tryin' t' trade places with me all night."

You laugh. The world seems alright again - not perfect, but good enough. It might take a night of sleeping the tension away before you're fully back to your normal self, but this is a leap in the right direction. You look at Simon, into his brown, steady eyes, as they stare right back at you.

He breaks the silence. "I really am sorry for ruinin' your date."

You smile softly. "Thank you, Simon. I forgive you."

And just like that, the weight of his guilt is lifted away. The lingering sourness remains, a reminder that he had made you cry. But you had forgiven him, which was more than he was hoping to get tonight.

"Are we better?" you ask timidly.

He nods once. "Better."

You smile - you slowly slide your stack of receipts to him, biting your lip. "Cool - can I have my money?"

Just like that, his smirk drops - but you know it's all in good humor. He huffs, snatching the stack from the table and scoots his way out of the booth. "Always got money on the mind, eh?"

"I've always got rent on my mind." you retort, following after him with the bowl of onion rings. You plant yourself at your usual spot on the end of the bar, right near the POS where Simon cashes out your tips. He tries to hurry up, assuming you want to dip and go home after such an intense conversation. He slides the mask back over his face and punches his code in, trying to edit your tips into the system as quickly as he can.

"Simon?"

"Hm?" his response is instant, turning around to look back at you. You've got your phone on the bartop, and your back and jacket on the unoccupied seat next to you.

"Can I stay for a drink?"

He's melting on the inside, only held together by his own skin. He sets your receipts down and opts to do them later, right before whenever you decide to leave. He won't miss on an opportunity to have you stay longer.

"Course, luv. What's it gonna be?"

"You know how to make a cosmo?"

He chuckles, grabbing a glass from the shelf behind him. "Sure do."

#bartender ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty

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shotmrmiller · 6 months ago

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living in some dingy apartment building because it is all you can afford on your income unless you want to eat danimals yogurt and saltine crackers for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. the stern landlady lives on the first floor, and some neighbors blast music on weekday nights (even if they didn't, the walls are paper-thin. you know more about the cambrian period than you'd like to, thanks to room 105) but it's a modest roof over your head and while the darkened grout lines in the bathroom are permanent, at least there's hot water.

until there isn't. and the landlady has mysteriously gone on vacation for the next two months.

what used to be a cathartic cleansing has now become your torment. every other day is hair wash day which means you're bent over the cold, porcelain edge of your tub, back screaming in protest and pain shooting up your bruised knees even though you've sacrificed one of your very nice pillows to avoid exactly that.

and showering is torture. the icy cold water feels like a thousand tiny claws scraping over your tender scalp, sinking into your trembling shoulders. you don't wait for your body to acclimate, just hastily scrub yourself as clean as you can and hop out, your chattering teeth and shaky breaths echoing through the tiny bathroom.

it's like this for a week and a half, a whole 10 days of suffering with showers so cold it feels like shards of ice biting into your goosepimpled skin when it stops. warmth bleeds into the stream of frostbitten water. finally, it soothes instead of stings. your coiled, tense muscles gradually slacken with relief, with unadulterated bliss. steam rises, the tips of your fingers and toes tingle as if thawing. gratitude wells in the corner of your eyes.

if you had any money you could afford to give, you would to your savior, but every dollar you own is earmarked for the bare essentials. so, with your thick, warm bathrobe cinched around your waist, you pen down a little heartfelt note to stick to the bulletin board downstairs before heading out for work.

thank you, whoever you are, for fixing the boiler. i could kiss you <3

when morning comes, you use one of the dull, golden tacks that previously held a lost pet flyer (sorry, bilbo the hamster, but it's been a year) and pin your note up.

only to come home and find it gone, a torn corner all that remains. maybe it's karma for your callousness towards someone's pet. (justice for bilbo.) you shrug it off, giddily skipping up the steps to wash off the day's stress with hot water.

but before you even hang your keys on the wall, there's a pounding on your door, hard enough to rattle it in its frame. and the masked man you see through the peephole isn't familiar. against your better judgment, you clear your throat before cracking open the door. "yes?"

the piece of paper he's holding in his dinner plate-sized hands seems incredibly small— and it's your note.

"i fixed the water." oh. "'m 'ere for wha' 'm owed." owed?

"i'm not— um. the kiss. it's just a figure of speech." the thick muscle of his bicep coils as he crosses his arms over his barrel chest. he's a very large man, as broad as your door.

if you slammed it closed on him, he'd probably leave it hanging by its hinges. that's not worth a measly kiss.

"okay. but on the cheek since i never specified where so it's dealer's choice."

he huffs out an amused breath but complies, hooking his thumb under the edge to pull up his balaclava just enough to expose his stubbled cheek. he's got a couple of scars; thin, slightly raised. run along the sharp edge of his jaw and disappear beneath the fabric.

he leans close, enough to hear his steady, slow exhales. he smells of dirt. salt. something smoky, tangy-- like on new years, minutes after the clock strikes 12.

your hands cradle his face as you rise to your tippy-toes, wetting your lips and crane your neck-- but he snaps his head to the side,

and takes the kiss he was owed.

(he takes a screwdriver to the ac unit next. wire cutters to the fuse box. nails to your tires. anything that'll inevitably lead you back to him. you tried paying him with dinner but the only thing he was interested in eating was your cunt.)

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

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mrsfancyferrari · 1 month ago

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I'm All Yours

Summary: You and Lando have been in the talking stage for some months now. After Lando's third win, he knows he's missing something important. You being his girlfriend.

Song: Thinking Bout You by Frank Ocean

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 5.8k

You and Lando had been navigating the delicate waters of the talking stage for several months, sharing countless late-night conversations and laughter that echoed through the quiet of your respective rooms.

Each message exchanged felt like a step closer, yet there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air, a sense that something significant was just out of reach.

Lando's impressive third win filled him with an exhilarating sense of triumph. As he stood on the podium, basking in the cheers and flashing cameras, he could almost taste the sweet taste of success.

However, amidst the euphoria, a realization washed over him, an emptiness that he couldn't ignore.

It was you, being his girlfriend, who was missing from the celebration, and the thought gnawed at him.

The absence of your presence cast a shadow over the victory that was otherwise so overwhelming. Lando couldn't help but feel incomplete, knowing that you were the one he wanted to share this milestone with.

The exhilaration of the win was dulled by the ache of knowing that you were missing out on the shared joy and celebration.

Without you by his side, Lando's victory felt hollow and incomplete. He had poured his heart and soul into achieving this milestone, knowing that your support meant the world to him.

But without you there to witness it, to witness his hard work and perseverance paying off, the victory felt less meaningful.

Lando couldn't help but replay in his mind the late-night conversations and laughter he and you had shared, each memory reminiscent of a time when he felt complete and whole.

Those moments fueled his determination and pushed him to work harder, but now, as he basked in the spotlight, he couldn't help but long for the presence of the person who had meant so much to him.

Lando knew that he couldn't control whether or not you were able to attend his victories, but he couldn't help but wish for the opportunity to share this momentous occasion with you.

He longed for the day when he could celebrate with you by his side, when the cheering crowd and the flashing cameras would serve as a backdrop to a beautiful and loving partnership.

As Lando stood there on the podium, amidst the deafening cheers and applause, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for him and for you.

He knew that he couldn't suppress his feelings any longer, and he vowed to find a way to bridge the gap between the two of you.

The tension between the talking stage and something more had always been palpable, but now, Lando realized that he couldn't move forward without addressing it head-on.

He knew that he couldn't continue to navigate these delicate waters without risking the potentiality of losing you altogether.

With a heavy heart, Lando decided to take the first step, to reach out and let you know how much you meant to him, even in the face of uncertainty. . . .

Later that evening, Lando found himself pacing in his hotel room, the trophy gleaming on the table, but his heart was heavy. He picked up his phone, hesitating for a moment before dialing your number.

When you answered, your voice was a soothing balm to his racing thoughts. "Hey, Lando! Congratulations on the win! I saw the highlights; you were incredible!" you exclaimed, your excitement evident.

He smiled, but it quickly faded as he replied, "Thanks, but it doesn’t feel complete without you here. I thought about you the whole time. I really wish you could have been there to celebrate with me."

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart flutter. "I wish I could have been there too. I was cheering for you from home, you know that!" you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Lando sighed, "I know, but it’s just not the same. I want you by my side, sharing these moments. You mean so much to me, and I think it’s time we stop just talking and start being something more."

His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you felt a rush of emotions.

"Lando, take a deep breath and sit down," you instructed, and Lando listened without hesitation. He settled onto the edge of the bed, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him.

"I need you to know that I care about you deeply too. But let's take it one step at a time, okay? We need to be honest with ourselves and each other about what we want and how we feel."

Lando nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. "You're right. I just didn't want to waste any more time pretending that what we have wasn't special. I want to build something real with you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. "We'll figure this out together, Lando. No rushing, no pressure—just us, exploring what we could be."

For the first time in a long while, Lando felt a sense of calm, knowing that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

"I love how you know how to calm me down," Lando muttered, looking at your face on the screen.

His eyes softened as he took in your reassuring smile, feeling a warmth spread through him. "It's like you always know exactly what to say to make everything better."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "That's because I care about you, Lando. And I want us to be happy, whatever that looks like for us." The two of you continued to talk about the race that he just won and he taught you some of the rules of the sport.

As the night wore on, the distance between you seemed to shrink, and Lando felt more certain than ever that together, you could face anything. . . .

It was the inaugural week of the much-anticipated long break, and you had made the decision to visit Lando, a choice that filled both of you with excitement. It had been weeks since you last saw each other in person, and the anticipation of reuniting was palpable.

As you made your way to the airport, Lando was a bundle of nerves, standing in front of the mirror in his room, adjusting his collar repeatedly as if it would somehow ease his anxiety.

Charles, his ever-watchful friend, leaned against the doorframe, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Lando's frantic preparations.

"You know, mate, you’re acting like you’re about to meet the Queen or something," Charles chuckled, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

Lando shot a quick glance at Charles, his brow furrowed in concentration. "I know, but I just want everything to be perfect. I mean, she’s coming all this way, and I want to make a good impression," he replied, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and dread.

The thought of you arriving filled him with both joy and a hint of panic. He was supposed to pick you up from the airport, and the only thing he was waiting for was the message that would signal your arrival.

"It’s not like it’s the first time you’re meeting her," Charles teased, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall, clearly enjoying Lando’s discomfort.

"Yeah, but still," Lando muttered, turning to face Charles, his hands fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. "I want her to see me at my best."

Charles couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. "Honestly, mate, if she’s still talking to you after all this time, I think you’ve already made a pretty good impression."

Lando, unable to suppress a grin, playfully punched Charles on the shoulder. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m still going to be a nervous wreck until I see her."

The banter continued, but deep down, both friends knew that this reunion was going to be something special, a moment they had both been waiting for.

"Do you think there's something special brewing between you two in the future?" Charles inquired, his curiosity evident in his tone. He leaned back in his chair, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he watched Lando's expression shift.

Lando's eyes sparkled with a mix of hope and uncertainty, and he took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding. "Honestly, I really hope so. She's not like anyone else I've ever dated," he replied, a soft smile spreading across his face.

"She has this quiet strength about her, always listening to my problems, but she can also be so lively and chatty. And when she smiles, those dimples of hers just light up the room. I find myself wanting to see her smile all the time. It’s like she has this incredible ability to make everything feel right. And don’t even get me started on how smart she is; I often wonder why she even bothers with a guy like me."

Just as Lando was about to delve deeper into his feelings, a notification chimed from his phone, interrupting his train of thought.

He quickly reached for it, his heart racing with anticipation. The message was from you, simply stating, "I'm landing now, see you soon! <3"

A wave of excitement washed over him, and he couldn't help but grin.

"See, mate? The moment you start talking about her, all your worries just fade away," Charles said, his grin widening as he nudged Lando playfully. "You’ve got to go get her. This could be the start of something amazing."

"You're right, I should," Lando replied, his voice filled with newfound determination. He quickly grabbed his suit, the fabric crumpling slightly in his hands as he rushed to the door. "Thanks for the push, Charles. I really appreciate it."

With a final glance back at his friend, Lando felt a surge of confidence. He was ready to embrace whatever the future held with her, knowing that this moment could be the beginning of something truly special.

As he dashed out, the anticipation of seeing her again filled him with a warmth that made him forget all his insecurities.

Lando slid into the driver’s seat of his car, the engine purring to life as he navigated through the bustling streets toward the airport. The anticipation bubbled within him, a mix of excitement and nerves as he thought about seeing you again.

Once he arrived, he parked and made his way inside, where he found a cozy spot to wait. Time seemed to stretch as he glanced at the arrivals board, his heart racing at the thought of your imminent arrival. Soon enough, he spotted the familiar figures emerging from the terminal, and his breath caught in his throat when his eyes finally locked onto yours.

You looked stunning, a vision in a sleek black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, complemented by a small coat that added an air of elegance against the chilly backdrop.

As you approached, Lando couldn’t help but notice the way you seemed slightly nervous under his gaze, your suitcase rolling behind you as you made your way closer. The moment felt electric, and he found himself momentarily lost in the depths of your eyes.

“Lando? Earth to Lando?” you teased, breaking the spell that had momentarily held him captive.

He blinked, shaking off the daze, and blurted out, “You look beautiful.” The words slipped out before he could think, genuine admiration shining through.

A soft blush crept across your cheeks as you replied, “Oh, thank you, Lando. You look handsome too.”

Your smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help but mirror it, feeling warmth spread across his face as he realized just how much you affected him.

After a few moments of shared smiles and lingering glances, Lando finally broke the silence. “Let me take your bag,” he offered, his voice steady despite the fluttering in his chest.

He reached for your suitcase, gently taking it from your hand and replacing it with his own, their fingers intertwining in a sweet gesture that felt both natural and exhilarating.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted, his eyes searching yours for a hint of how you felt. “I missed you too,” you replied, your voice soft yet filled with sincerity.

"Congratulations on your win," you said as the two of you left the airport, your voice carrying a mix of pride and excitement.

Lando's eyes sparkled at your words, the acknowledgment of his recent achievement making his chest swell with joy. "Thank you," he responded, his tone humble yet filled with gratitude. "Though I wish you were there to celebrate with me."

As you walked side by side, the bustling noise of the airport fading into the background, Lando couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment.

"Well, I'm here now," you said with a playful smile, "Do you have anything planned?" Lando's eyes lit up with excitement as he opened the door for you, his hand gently guiding you into the waiting car.

"Yeah, but we have to make a quick stop first," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of mystery.

As the car sped away from the airport, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. You glanced over at Lando, who was now staring out the window, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Where are we going?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you. He turned to you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"You'll see," was all he said, leaving you to wonder what surprises lay ahead.

The car soon pulled up to a familiar street, and your curiosity only grew as you recognized Lando's neighborhood. As the vehicle came to a halt in front of his house, you looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why are we here?" you asked, but he just smiled and opened the car door, holding out his hand to help you out.

"Trust me," he said simply, his eyes twinkling with a secret only he knew.

Your confusion slowly turned to excitement as he led you up the steps and into his home. The moment you stepped inside, you were greeted by the warm, inviting ambiance of the living room.

On the coffee table sat a beautifully wrapped gift and a bouquet of your favorite flowers as well as all of your favourite books.

"I wanted to give you something special before our adventure," Lando said, his voice soft and filled with genuine affection.

"Aww, Lando, you shouldn't have," you muttered, your voice mingling with shock and gratitude as you took in the thoughtful array of gifts.

You knew how much time, effort, and money must have gone into arranging all of this, and it made your heart swell with appreciation.

Overwhelmed by the gesture, you stepped closer and placed a gentle kiss on Lando's cheek, watching as his face turned a delightful shade of red.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you knew how much you mean to me," he said, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest sincerity that made your heart flutter.

"You mean the world to me, Lando," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. I can't believe you went through all this trouble just to make me happy."

You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and savoring the moment.

Lando hugged you back just as tightly, his breath hot against your ear as he murmured, "I'd do anything to see you smile like this."

As you pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, you could see the depth of his feelings reflected there. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect, intimate moment.

After the embrace, the air between you and Lando crackled with an unspoken tension. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and as you turned to look at him, you caught him stealing glances at your lips, a flicker of desire dancing in his eyes.

It was a moment that felt suspended in time, yet he seemed to fight against the urge to close the distance.

"We should head to the next place," he finally murmured, breaking the spell as he moved toward the door, his voice low and slightly hesitant.

You followed him, a soft smile playing on your lips, but inside, a whirlwind of thoughts swirled. Lando was always so considerate, so respectful, and while you appreciated that about him, there were times when you wished he would take a leap of faith.

The two of you had danced around this moment for far too long, and the anticipation was almost unbearable.

"You know," you said, catching up to him as he paused at the door, "sometimes I think you’re too careful. What’s stopping you from just going for it?"

Your heart raced as you spoke, hoping to provoke a reaction.

He turned to face you, his expression a mix of surprise and contemplation. "I guess I just don’t want to ruin what we have," he admitted, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that always made your heart flutter. "But I can’t help but wonder if we’re missing out on something amazing."

You could see the conflict in his eyes, and it made you want to reach out and pull him closer.

"Whatever your option is, I'll always stand with you," you assured him, your voice soft but firm. The sincerity in your words seemed to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Come on, don't you have a secret place to show me?" you added, a playful glint in your eye as you tried to lighten the mood.

Lando's face broke into a relieved smile, the weight of the moment lifting. "Yeah, I do," he said, his tone more relaxed as he opened the door for you.

As you both stepped out into the cool evening air, the unspoken promise of exploring that hidden place together filled you with a renewed sense of excitement. The night was still young, and with Lando by your side, you couldn't wait to see what adventures awaited.

Lando drove through winding roads until they reached a secluded, picturesque area. The headlights illuminated a candle-lit table set with an array of delicious food, and in the background, a luxurious yacht waited by the water's edge.

The sight took your breath away, and you turned to Lando with wide eyes, unable to hide your amazement. "How did you even manage this?" you asked, your voice filled with awe.

He merely grinned, a hint of mischief playing on his lips. "I have my ways," he replied, stepping out of the car and moving to your side to open your door.

As you walked together towards the beautifully set table, the ambiance of the evening wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The flickering candlelight cast a soft glow, making the moment feel even more intimate.

He gently pulled out your chair, guiding you to sit down with a grace that made your heart swell even more. As he took his seat across from you, the candlelight reflected in his eyes, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that you couldn’t look away from.

The aroma of the food wafted up, mingling with the crisp evening air, creating an atmosphere that was nothing short of magical.

Lando poured you a glass of wine, his movements deliberate and smooth, as if he had planned every detail to perfection. "To us," he toasted, raising his glass with a smile that spoke volumes.

You clinked glasses, feeling the warmth of the wine and the moment seep into your soul. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter, shared dreams, and the kind of deep connection that made you forget about everything else.

As you both reached for the first bite, the flavors exploded in your mouth, a symphony of tastes that perfectly complemented the enchanting setting. The dishes ranged from succulent grilled vegetables to tender cuts of meat, each prepared with exquisite care.

Lando watched your reaction with a satisfied smile, clearly pleased that his efforts were being appreciated. You savored every morsel, the delicious food enhancing the magic of the evening even further.

Between bites, you exchanged stories and memories, each one bringing you closer together.

The food was more than just a meal; it was an experience that tied the night together in a perfect bow. The rich, creamy desserts were the final touch, a sweet ending to an unforgettable dinner.

As you finished the last bite, you couldn’t help but feel that this evening was the start of something truly special.

"So, is the yacht just for show?" you asked curiously, glancing over at the sleek vessel docked nearby. Lando's grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Ahh, I was waiting for you to ask about it," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "Do you want to get on it?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stood up and extended his hand to you. With your hand in his, you walked towards the yacht, the anticipation building with each step.

The yacht was an epitome of elegance and luxury, gleaming under the moonlight. As you stepped onto the polished teak deck, you couldn't help but admire the sleek lines and sophisticated design.

The gentle hum of the engine and the subtle sway of the boat added a sense of adventure to the atmosphere. Soft ambient lighting illuminated the pathways, guiding you both towards the interior with an inviting glow.

Inside, the yacht was a marvel of modern craftsmanship. Plush seating areas were adorned with rich fabrics and tasteful decor, creating a cozy yet opulent ambiance. The main salon featured expansive windows that offered breathtaking views of the starlit sea.

A state-of-the-art kitchen and a well-stocked bar hinted at more delightful culinary experiences to come. Everywhere you looked, there were thoughtful details that spoke of Lando's impeccable taste and the promise of unforgettable moments ahead.

"Do you like it?" Lando asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice despite his confident demeanor. You turned to him, eyes sparkling with genuine admiration.

"It's absolutely stunning, Lando. You've outdone yourself," you replied, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He visibly relaxed, his smile broadening as he took in your reaction.

As you continued exploring the yacht, Lando pointed out various features with pride. From the luxurious master suite to the sleek entertainment system, every detail was carefully curated to provide the ultimate experience.

You could see the passion and effort he had poured into making this yacht a floating paradise.

"I wanted this to be more than just a boat ride," he explained softly. "I wanted it to be a memory we would cherish forever."

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you as you realized just how much this evening—and this moment—meant to him as well.

You also promised to yourself that you would make the first move to him tonight. With a determined yet gentle resolve, you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Lando," you began softly, gazing into his eyes, "I want this to be a memory we both cherish forever too."

After thoroughly exploring every nook and cranny of the luxurious yacht, the two of you found yourselves drawn to the expansive deck, where the horizon was ablaze with the colors of the setting sun.

The sky transformed into a canvas of oranges, pinks, and purples, casting a warm glow over the water.

"Isn’t this just perfect?" you remarked, leaning against the railing and taking in the breathtaking view.

Lando, with a smile that lit up his face, nodded in agreement. “I can’t think of a better way to end the day,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

With the large, plush couch inviting you to sink into its comfort, you both had ample space to stretch out. However, instead of sprawling out, you chose to sit on Lando’s lap, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

"You’re so cozy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckled softly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back.

"I could get used to this," he said, his voice low and playful. As you began to massage his head, your fingers weaving through his curls, you pressed soft kisses on his hair, relishing the intimacy of the moment.

"You know, I could stay here forever," you whispered, feeling the world around you fade away.

Lando looked up at you, his expression a mix of affection and mischief. “Forever is a long time, but I wouldn’t mind if it meant more sunsets like this with you,” he replied, his eyes locking onto yours.

You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, the connection between you deepening. “Let’s make a pact then,” you suggested, a playful grin spreading across your face. “Every sunset for this break, we find a cozy spot and just enjoy each other’s company.”

He laughed, nodding. “Deal! But only if I get to sit on your lap next time,” he countered, his playful tone making you giggle. . . .

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the gentle waves, you found yourself nestled comfortably in Lando's lap on the deck of his sleek yacht, the subtle sway of the boat only adding to the intoxicating atmosphere.

You could hardly remember how you had crossed the line from innocent flirting to this moment, where your lips tangled and your breaths mingled under the fading light. It felt like a long time coming, a slow build-up of longing and unspoken words that finally erupted in a passionate kiss.

Lando smirked, his famous charm practically radiating off him, and he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he teasingly whispered, “I think you and I have been waiting for this for ages." His hands began to travel across your back, fingers barely grazing your skin, igniting a fire within you that was both thrilling and comforting.

"Is this really happening?” you asked, half-mesmerized by the way his touch sent shivers down your spine.

“I mean, one moment we were only hands, and now…” you trailed off, a mix of disbelief and excitement coursing through me.

Lando chuckled softly, his hands finding a firmer grip on your waist as he pulled you closer, your bodies fitting perfectly together as if they were always meant to be this way.

“Did you only want to hold hands, though?” he questioned, a playful glint in his deep-set eyes. “I’ve always thought there was something more, something bubbling under the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode.”

His words hung in the air, wrapping around you like the gentle sea breeze, and you felt a surge of confidence at his unfiltered honesty.

You let out a breathy laugh, captivated by the moment as you brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your heart racing in synchrony with the rhythm of the waves.

“Are you saying this was all a part of your master plan?” you teased, playfully raising an eyebrow at him.

Lando leaned back slightly, giving you that signature lopsided grin that made your heart flutter. “Master plan? More like a series of happy accidents,” he quipped. “But if I’m being honest, I wanted to kiss you the moment we first met. You were just too busy trying to keep up with the racing jokes.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, but your heart swelled at his words, realizing how much energy and chemistry had been humming between us all along.

"Well," you replied, resting your forehead against his, "I guess it's a good thing we finally figured it out.

As you settle onto Lando’s lap, a surge of exhilaration runs through you, a mix of the salty breeze from the ocean and the intoxicating smell of sunscreen layered with his cologne.

His eyes, a vivid shade of green, spark with mischief as they meet yours, and a sense of weightlessness seems to blanket the world around you. Moments later, he leans in closer, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you like a warm wave, and without a word, his lips find yours.

You can taste the slight tang of the sea on his mouth, a delicious contrast to the sweet sensation of his kiss.

The world around you fades and the gentle lapping of the water against the yacht become a distant echo; you’re completely absorbed in this captivating moment of connection.

As the kiss deepens, you feel Lando’s tongue dance playfully with yours, each movement sparking a thrilling anticipation that sends shivers down your spine.

You can’t help but pull him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck and feeling the sinewy strength in his shoulders. With every little touch, every brush of his lips, the air seems to vibrate with the unspoken electricity between you.

The world is no longer defined by the yacht or the party behind you; it’s merely the two of you, lost in a fleeting paradise where nothing else matters.

Suddenly, you can feel his hands roaming on your back, and you giggle softly against his lips, teasing him, “You’re not supposed to distract me like this!”

He chuckles in response, his breath warm against your skin, "But how can I resist?"

Just as the kiss begins to take on a more fervent intensity, Lando finds a delicate gap in your dress, his fingers exploring the bare skin of your waist with a confident, gentle caress. The sensation ignites a fire within you, every glide of his fingertips a tantalizing reminder of your shared connection.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he murmurs between kisses, his voice low and sincere, causing your heart to race.

You smile against him, feeling bold and cherished; “Only when I’m with you,” you reply, feeding the warmth that envelops the two of you.

The embrace seems to stretch into eternity, every kiss and touch intensifying the chemistry that crackles in the summer air, leaving you both intoxicated by the moment and eager for what lies ahead on this magical, sun-kissed day. . . .

Just moments earlier, you had shared a soft, lingering kiss, a tender connection that made your heart race, leaving you momentarily breathless.

"Wow, I didn’t know you were such a great kisser," you teased while gazing into his captivating blue eyes, feeling the flutter of excitement bubbling within you as laughter escaped your lips.

Lando chuckled softly, his gaze locking onto yours with a seriousness that took you aback, his fingers gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

As the wind tousled your hair and the sounds of waves crashing against the yacht faded into the background, Lando looked at you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

"I’ve been thinking about this for a while," he began, his voice steady yet laced with a hint of vulnerability, "and I just can’t keep it to myself any longer. I thought of making a speech but that doesn't sound like a thing I would do so I thought I was just freestyle it. Y/N, you've made me so happy ever since I've met you, you've made me read more books, you've changed my life entirely and I'm grateful for your existence with everyday that passes by."

The playful banter dwindled, and an anticipatory silence enveloped you both as he continued. "Will you be my girlfriend and make the happiest man in the world?"

His question hung in the air, the weight of it leaving you utterly shocked, your mind racing as your heart skipped a beat. You stared at him, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as those words echoed in your mind.

Was this really happening?

Your heart filled with joy and disbelief, and you found yourself momentarily lost in the depths of his ever-watchful eyes, torn between excitement and an overwhelming sense of surprise.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you finally managed to respond, the corners of your mouth curving into a smile, though your heart was still racing.

"You really know how to throw a girl off balance, don’t you?" you replied, your voice slightly teasing yet laced with genuine affection. "That's quite the unexpected question, Lando. I mean, I thought we were just having fun on this beautiful yacht, enjoying the sunset."

You felt the blush rising to your cheeks as you remembered the kiss, your heart still hammering. "But, you know," you continued, looking deep into his eyes, trying to gauge the sincerity of his proposal, "I’ve definitely been feeling something special between us."

"but yes, of course I will be your girlfriend. I've been waiting for you to ask the question for weeks now," you said, smiling at how shocked Lando looked at your responce.

"Really? I thought it would be inappropriate to ask so quickly," Lando explained shyly, his cheeks turning red for a second.

"Aww Lando you're such a gentleman!" you said, melting at his words and pressing a kiss on his cheek as a reward. "You definitely deserve a treat after this,"

"I'm all yours," Lando smirked, his hands up in 'surrender' but you knew it wasn't going to take long for his hands to get back on your body. . . .

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51voices · 13 days ago

Text

Home is Where I'm Enough

Poll winner: Praise Kink (Kinkvember Debut Fic)

IVE Jang Wonyoung x Male reader

The apartment was quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of keys and the soft hum of Y/N’s computer. He sat hunched over his desk, the screen’s gentle glow casting an ethereal light across his face as he polished the final touches of his latest graphic design project. He’d been in the zone for hours, the kind of intense flow only a passionate creator knows, dreading any interruption. But as the night grew late, fatigue crept in like an unwelcome guest, blurring the vibrant colors and shapes on his screen and drawing him into a hazy exhaustion.

Just as he stretched back in his chair, letting his arms rise above his head to shake off the dull ache in his shoulders, the front door creaked open. Though faint, the sound pulled his attention immediately, stirring a gentle flutter in his chest. He knew who it was: Wonyoung.

She stepped inside, her silhouette soft against the dim hallway light. Her usual radiance had dimmed, replaced by a look of deep exhaustion. Strands of hair framed her face, loosely tousled, hinting at the long hours she’d endured. Dressed in her favorite oversized sweater, slipping off one shoulder, and paired with comfy shorts, her cozy ensemble contrasted starkly with the glitz of her public persona. Tonight, she looked as if the weight of the world had finally settled on her delicate frame.

Her gaze drifted across the room, her steps heavy as she gravitated toward him, perhaps unconsciously drawn by the promise of comfort. When their eyes met, she offered a small, tired smile—a gesture that seemed automatic, though the usual warmth was replaced by something softer, more vulnerable.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted in a warm, low voice, breaking the quiet of the apartment with gentle concern. “Long day?”

Wonyoung let out a soft, tired breath, her smile persisting but not quite reaching her eyes. “Yeah… you wouldn’t believe how exhausting today was. Promotions, photoshoots, fan meetings… I don’t even know how I’m still standing.” Her words, though calm, carried an unmistakable weight, each syllable laced with unspoken exhaustion.

He rose from his desk, the scrape of the chair against the floor seeming louder in the stillness, closing the distance between them. Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close, his embrace both protective and tender, inviting her to let go of whatever she’d been carrying. She melted against him, her body softening as she leaned fully into his warmth, the tension in her shoulders easing as if hoping to dissolve into him.

“You’ve been working so hard, princess. You deserve to rest,” he murmured, gliding a hand over her back in soothing circles, tracing gentle patterns over the soft fabric of her sweater. Each stroke was meant to ease her, to remind her that she didn’t need to be strong right now.

Wonyoung sighed, resting her head against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat become an anchor, grounding her. “I don’t even know if I can relax,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, carrying an edge of vulnerability she rarely allowed herself to show. “Everyone always asks me for things, but no one ever asks me what I need. I feel like I’m always giving, and no one’s there to just… take care of me.”

Her words tugged at his heart, and he tightened his embrace, listening fully, letting her be exactly who she was. Tonight, she wasn’t Wonyoung the idol; she was just his girlfriend, stripped of the weight of expectations.

Brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, he murmured, “Tonight, I’m here to take care of you. You don’t need to worry about anything. How about we keep it quiet? I could make some dinner—whatever you’d like?”

She smiled softly but shook her head. “No, thank you… I’m not really hungry. Just too tired to eat, I think.”

He nodded, adjusting his suggestion. “Maybe a massage? Help you relax and ease those tired muscles?”

Wonyoung considered it, then sighed, her gaze drifting. “That sounds nice, but I don’t think I can even sit still long enough. I’d probably fall asleep halfway through.”

He chuckled softly, brushing his thumb over her shoulder in a light caress. “Fair enough. How about a movie, then? We could just put something on, snuggle up on the couch, and you can zone out as much as you need?”

A flicker of warmth crossed her face at the thought, but she shook her head again. “That sounds nice too, but I don’t think I’d even be able to focus. My mind’s just… elsewhere.”

He paused, sensing that none of his suggestions had quite hit the mark. Sliding a gentle hand to her cheek, he met her gaze, his voice tender. “Then tell me, Wonyoung. Whatever you need, just say it. I’m here.”

The world around them seemed to hold its breath, caught in the tender pause that enveloped the pair. Wonyoung, usually so composed and commanding, now appeared as if she were standing on the edge of a precipice, her usual confidence momentarily abandoned. It was in this rare instance of uncertainty that she found the courage to voice her deepest desire.

"Oppa ," she began, her voice a whisper of its usual strength, carrying a hesitance that was seldom heard. "Can we just… be together? Just us."

His response was immediate and heartfelt. A gentle smile graced his lips, his heart warmed by the sincerity of her request. "Of course, Wony. We can just spend time together, no pressure, no work, just us."

The vulnerability in her eyes was palpable, yet it was accompanied by a spark of mischief that hinted at an unexpressed longing. As she stepped closer, her fingers traced an unsteady path along his arm, her touch betraying her nervousness. Oblivious to the full extent of her yearning, he leaned in to bestow a tender kiss upon her forehead, his words a soothing balm to her unspoken needs.

"Just us, no distractions, okay?" he affirmed, his voice a comforting promise.

Wonyoung's fingers anxiously toyed with the hem of his shirt, her courage wavering for but a moment before she mustered the resolve to voice the true nature of her request. With a shy smile that barely contained her anticipation, she looked up at him, her words laced with a boldness that belied her gentle demeanor.

"Oppaa... I-I meant... can we... have... sexy time?"

The surprise that registered on his face was genuine, his mind struggling to catch up with the sudden shift in the conversation. He had been prepared to offer her a sanctuary of relaxation and companionship, but this... this was an invitation to a different kind of connection, one that was both intimate and thrilling.

As the initial shock subsided, his gaze softened, and he saw her in an entirely new light. The playful glint in her eyes, the delicate blush that graced her cheeks—it all painted a picture of Wonyoung that was both endearing and alluring. She stood before him, her hands fidgeting with a mixture of nervousness and desire, her lips parted in quiet anticipation of his response.

Understanding dawned on him, and with it came a smile that reflected his deep affection for her. "Ah, Wony," he said with a gentle chuckle, his fingers brushing away a stray lock of her hair. "You want us to... I see, of course baby"

Her affirmation was shy but resolute, her voice barely above a whisper as she laid bare her innermost wishes. "I... I've been really stressed, and I just... I just want you. Just us."

A deep warmth rose within him as he gazed at the woman in his arms, a warmth that radiated through every fiber of his being. She was here with him, stripped of the expectations and perfection the world demanded of her, showing him the truest parts of herself. Her request, so simple yet so vulnerable, spoke volumes about the bond they shared, and he felt his heart swell with love and admiration. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled her closer, his hands finding their place around her waist, fingers pressing into her softly but with purpose. He tilted his head to capture her lips in a kiss that promised everything she might need, murmuring against her mouth, "Whatever you want, just tell me."

With that, the world around them dissolved into a soft blur, distant and forgotten, as Wonyoung melted into his arms. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow, the light spilling over their entwined bodies and casting shadows that highlighted her delicate curves. He traced his fingers slowly along her back, feeling the subtle tremors beneath her skin, the way her body softened by degrees, her tension easing under his touch. Each stroke coaxed a little more trust from her, even as she wrestled with the restraint that held her in check, a habit formed over years of needing to be perfectly in control.

As his hands began to unfasten the layers of her clothing with gentle care, he could feel her vulnerability like an unspoken word between them. To the world, she was grace personified, a vision of poise and elegance, an idol untouchable in her perfection. Yet, here and now, she was a woman grappling with the desire to shed the weight of that polished image, to surrender the mantle of perfection she wore so effortlessly in the public eye. His fingers moved with the gentleness of someone who understood her inner struggle, his touch a balm, offering her the quiet assurance she needed to let down her guard.

He sensed the battle playing out within her, an invisible tug-of-war between the person she had to be and the one she longed to become in this private space. His lips brushed over her neck, his voice low and soothing. "Wony, it’s okay if you don’t see it yet," he murmured, pressing soft kisses along her jawline, "but you’re perfect in all the ways that matter. You bring so much beauty and strength into my life."

A shuddered breath escaped her lips as his words settled over her, each one unraveling a bit more of her control. Her hands tightened in the bedsheets, twisting the fabric as she balanced on the razor-thin line between control and surrender. His hands traced over her sides, strong and steady, each movement slow and deliberate, designed to comfort and ignite. "Let go for me, baby, it's okay," he coaxed, his voice a deep, resonant sound that seemed to settle right at the core of her, calling to her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

The endearment lingered in the air, a plea and a promise wrapped into one, coaxing her closer to that edge. Her breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as she fought the rising urge to surrender completely, to release everything she held back. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words came out as a fragile whisper, the vulnerability in her voice breaking through. "I don’t… I don’t know if I can," she admitted, her voice quivering, her brows furrowed in a fleeting expression of frustration and fear, the tension of her resistance etched across her face.

His response was instant and tender. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, a gesture of unwavering support that steadied her. "You can, Wony," he assured her, his gaze holding hers, brimming with sincerity. "I see how much you keep it together out there, and that makes me appreciate even more the way you open up with me. It’s such a privilege to be the one who gets to see this side of you." His words were a gentle nudge, affirming his commitment not just to her pleasure but to her peace, his hands holding her as if promising to anchor her.

Trust shone in her eyes as she took a deep, steadying breath, his words filling her with a sense of security that was as powerful as it was freeing. Slowly, she let herself relax, allowing him to guide her, his hands continuing their slow, purposeful journey across her skin, each caress a reminder of his deep affection. The pleasure within her built steadily, a growing ache, a tantalizing invitation that beckoned her toward release. Yet, even as she teetered on that edge, the remnants of her control clung to her, a practiced restraint born of habit, a habit he was patiently helping her unravel, piece by piece.

His fingertips traced her skin with a deliberate gentleness, painting a path that left her body flushed, every inch hypersensitive to his touch. The way he moved over her was worshipful, reverent, each stroke of his hand along her curves as if he were discovering her for the first time. She twitched beneath him, her back arching to meet his touch, her breaths shallow and filled with anticipation. Every caress was a testament to how he saw her—not just an idol, but a masterpiece, a person to be cherished in all her vulnerability and strength.

His mouth moved down to lavish her jawline with tender, lingering kisses. He traveled along the column of her throat, the warmth of his breath igniting her senses and sending cascades of goosebumps across her skin. With her head tilted back, she exposed her neck, an unspoken surrender in the tilt of her head, a silent invitation for him to continue. The softness of his mouth, the slow, careful rhythm, filled her with a thrill of arousal she could barely contain, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him, wanting more yet barely able to voice it.

Their lips met then, a slow, searching kiss that unfolded with a blend of tenderness and raw emotion. His mouth moved against hers with a gentle ardor, savoring each moment, each connection, and her fingers tangled in his hair as she drew him closer, letting herself melt into the warmth of his embrace. The world outside faded entirely, leaving only the two of them suspended in a quiet dance, a sacred exchange of love and vulnerability that allowed her to shed every mask she wore. Here, wrapped in his affection, she found the courage to set down the armor she held so tightly, to accept the freedom he offered.

His mouth trailed lower, each kiss slower, more deliberate, as he left a line of warmth down her body, his fingers pressing gently into her hips to steady her. The closer he came to her core, the more intense her anticipation grew, her breath catching as he settled between her thighs. She felt the tension building inside her, excitement and vulnerability intertwining in equal measure. But as his lips neared her center, a flicker of hesitation stirred within her, a whisper of insecurity breaking through the haze of arousal.

She tensed slightly, her mind rushing to the imperfections she imagined, the things she couldn’t control. In front of him, she felt bare, unfiltered, not the polished, pristine version she presented to the world. Right now, she wasn’t perfect, wasn’t flawless, wasn’t prepared. The thought made her hesitate, and she tried to subtly shift away, her hand moving instinctively to shield herself. “It's not…I’m not—” she stammered, feeling her cheeks flush.

But he paused, sensing the change in her, his gaze lifting to meet hers with a gentleness that held her in place. He brushed a comforting hand over her thigh, the touch steady and reassuring, his voice low and soft. "Hey… don’t worry. Right here, you’re exactly as you should be. You don’t need to be anything but yourself with me." He placed a tender kiss on her inner thigh, his words imbued with an acceptance that quieted her worries, the unconditional affection in his gaze anchoring her.

With a breath, she nodded, the tension easing as she allowed herself to relax, feeling the weight of her expectations melt in his presence. His hands settled on her thighs, grounding her, as he placed a soft, reverent kiss at her center, his lips warm and gentle, easing her slowly back into the moment. As his tongue began to trace delicate, slow circles, she felt herself letting go, her hesitations fading beneath the steady rhythm of his movements.

He continued with a tenderness that felt like a vow, his mouth exploring her as though reminding her that she was already perfect to him. Each touch, each gentle press of his mouth, was a wordless reassurance, a reminder that she could be vulnerable here, could let herself be imperfect without fear. His fingers stroked over her skin, guiding her back to herself, and the pleasure started to overtake the remnants of her self-doubt.

Finally, her body began to respond instinctively, hips pressing forward as her breath grew shallower, soft sounds spilling from her lips as she surrendered to the sensation. His mouth continued its worshipful rhythm, bringing her closer and closer to the edge until she could no longer think of anything but the waves of pleasure that built within her, each one stronger than the last. Her hand found its way into his hair, gripping softly as her control slipped, her voice a soft, pleading whisper in the quiet.

In this sacred space, Wonyoung found the courage to relinquish her hold on perfection, to embrace the imperfect beauty of being truly seen and wholeheartedly loved. His unwavering presence and the sanctuary of his affection were the keys that unlocked the gate to her unbridled self. Here, in the sanctity of their bond, Wonyoung was not just an idol, but a woman fully immersed in the depths of love and the freedom it brings.

He paused and replaced his mouth with his fingers. Her warm, moist folds pulsing around his digits, slowly he leaned towards her. The voice that caressed Wonyoung's ears was a balm to her soul, a soft, soothing timbre filled with quiet strength. "It's okay, Wony. You don't have to try to be perfect. I love you just as you are, you’re perfect to me." The words, imbued with unconditional acceptance, were a gentle command that resonated deep within her core.

Wonyoung, the idol worshiped by millions for her flawless poise and ethereal beauty, found herself gasping as the first wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her fingers, once graceful and composed, now gripped the sheets with an urgency that betrayed her facade. The pleasure was a sudden heat, a surge of sensation that ignited her senses and sent ripples of ecstasy coursing through her body. Each pulsating surge overwhelmed her with a delicious thrill, her body instinctively arching towards the source of her bliss, yet her moans remained soft and restrained—a delicate symphony of need barely rising above a whisper.

The world outside ceased to exist. The contrast between the poised idol she presented to the world and the vulnerable girl who yearned to unravel in his arms was stark and dissonant. The weight of expectation, a constant pressure to maintain the image of perfection, loomed over her. Yet, in the sanctity of their embrace, a different desire flickered to life—a longing for the freedom to embrace her innermost yearnings without fear or restraint.

The pleasure surged once more, its potency wrapping around her like a tantalizing embrace. Wonyoung's heart raced, her breath hitching in her throat as she inhaled sharply. The waves of sensation enveloped her, swallowing her whole while her thoughts swirled chaotically, tinged with a subtle desperation. Would he understand the storm of emotions raging within her? Would he cherish both the idol and the girl beneath the surface?

With every pulse of pleasure, she teetered on the edge of release, a dizzying dance between her public persona and her private self. The fear of disappointment clawed at her, but his gentle fingers spoke a language of love that was both soothing and comforting, coaxing her closer to the precipice of surrender. As she hovered on the brink, her body taut as a bowstring, his lips found her ear, and he whispered words of devotion.

"You're so beautiful, so perfect. Let go, my love. Cum for me." The sensual cadence of his words wrapped around her, an undeniable invitation, and she felt the last of her walls tremble, cracking under the weight of his praise. Her body responded instinctively, arching into his touch as he coaxed her closer to the edge. She could feel it building, a molten tension winding tighter with each pulse of pleasure that surged through her, threatening to unmoor her entirely.

Then, with a choked cry, her resolve shattered. The pleasure that swept through her was intense, potent enough to make her gasp, her core clenching rhythmically around his fingers as ecstasy surged, each wave cresting and crashing through her. She trembled, her breaths coming in rapid bursts as she teetered in that blissful space. But even as the release overtook her, rippling outward with undeniable force, there was still a sliver of herself she held back, a trace of resistance lingering at her core, keeping her from fully dissolving into pleasure. It was as if her body had surrendered, yet her heart still lingered, guarded, hovering just beyond the reach of complete vulnerability.

Wave after wave of sensation left her body limp and shivering, her skin flushed, her breaths ragged. And yet, even as she lay in his embrace, reveling in the aftershocks of her release, something deep within her remained untouched, still holding on, as though daring her to surrender wholly next time. She felt the intensity of her release—a vivid, powerful testament to how much she wanted to let go, yet how much further she could fall if only she allowed herself.

Tenderly, he gathered her in his arms as she shuddered through the aftershocks. "That’s it, baby. You’re amazing. So responsive, so trusting. I couldn’t be prouder of you." He rained kisses over her face, her neck, his words a soothing salve to her soul. She clung to him, dizzy and disoriented from the maelstrom of emotions, yet cherished beyond measure. In this moment, she wasn't a fantasy or a fetish, but a woman truly seen and adored for all that she was—a duality of strength and vulnerability, perfectly entwined in the arms of love.

"You're doing so well," he whispered, his hands continuing their gentle caress. "You're amazing, Wony." His words, soft as a summer breeze, carried the weight of his admiration and tenderness.

She sighed, her breath still shaky as she came down from the first climax, a testament to the passion they shared. Yet, there was a lingering frustration in her, a shadow of doubt that marred the perfection of the moment. She looked up at him, her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "I don't know why I can't just fully… let go," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I feel like I'm still holding on…"

He shook his head gently, his fingers deftly brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "That's okay baby," he said softly, his voice full of understanding. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for. You've done so much already, I know you trust me, baby, please show it to me." His words, a soothing balm to her troubled heart, seemed to ease the tension from her body.

Her eyes softened at his words, her chest rising and falling with deep, labored breaths. She gave a small nod, her lips curving into a hesitant smile, though there was still a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. He didn’t let go. His hands moved over Wonyoung again, softer this time, each touch deliberate and careful, as though every stroke carried a promise. "Do you have one more for me, princess?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down her spine. "Just trust me, Wony. I'm going to help you let go. You don't have to hold anything back."

Wonyoung's breath caught in her throat as she nodded. The tension in her body, so tightly wound, began to loosen under his careful touch. His hands roamed with purpose and pure, unhurried affection. The way he touched her wasn't just intimate; it was reverent, as if he was worshiping every part of her. His whispered praises filled the air between them like a balm, soothing the parts of her that had felt raw for so long. His lips trailed slowly down her neck, then lower, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her chest. He paused, his mouth grazing her nipple, his warmth sending a shiver through her as he focused on the stiff nub.

"You are the best thing that's ever happened to me," he murmured, his lips returning to her neck. "The way you keep going, even when things get tough, it's amazing to watch."

With each word, Wonyoung felt her defenses begin to crumble, the walls she had built around herself slowly breaking apart, leaving her exposed. Her breath hitched as her body responded, but even as she surrendered, a small, aching hesitation remained, a part of her still clinging to control. She wanted to let go, to feel fully, to be vulnerable, yet something held her back—an invisible tether keeping her from completely surrendering.

"I don't know if I can, I don't know how to…" she whispered, her voice shaking, not from fear, but from the overwhelming vulnerability that swelled inside her. She had always been the strong one, the composed one—the one in control. But here, in his arms, she didn't have to be any of those things. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away a stray tear that had slipped from the corner of her eye.

His eyes, warm and filled with love, never left hers. "Honey, I know how hard you work to be strong every day, and I see how much you carry. But here, with me, you don’t have to keep it all together," he whispered, his voice so soft, "I love every side of you—your strength, yes, but also the parts that need tenderness and care. You’ve been strong for so long; it’s okay to let yourself rest and lean on me. I’m here to hold you, no matter what. You’re safe with me, completely, and I’ll always have your back. Let go, even if just for a moment. You’ve earned it, and I’ll be right here through it all."

Something deep within Wonyoung shifted, a missing piece falling into place in a puzzle she hadn’t even known existed. In that charged, breathless moment, her last defenses dissolved. The barriers she had clung to splintered into dust, leaving her bare and vulnerable, her emotions raw and beautiful. Her body softened under his touch, yielding, pressing close, every line of her molding to him as if they’d been designed to fit together. Her heart—her most precious, guarded part—opened entirely, like a flower surrendering to the kiss of the morning sun. Years of hidden hurt and buried longing spilled forth, leaving her exposed and breathless, every nerve alive with sensation.

Her breaths quickened, shallow and uneven, as he pulled her closer, his touch igniting something deep within her, something that had been waiting, yearning to be released. She let out a soft, needy sound, a whispered “Oh…” as his hand traced her spine, sending a delicious shiver down her back. The heat spread through her, coiling tightly, winding up like a spring. His hands roamed over her skin, each stroke a spark, each caress an invitation to let go. Her fingers tightened on his shoulders, and another soft moan escaped her, higher, pleading. “Mmm… please…” she breathed, the anticipation winding up within her until she could hardly bear it.

As the pleasure built, her voice trembled, rising with each sensation that took her closer to the edge. “Ah—” she gasped as he found that spot, her entire body arching into him. “Yes, I’m cumming” she whimpered, her moans spilling freely, no longer shy, each sound a testament to the rawness of her surrender, the depth of her need. When release finally claimed her, it crashed over her like a tidal wave, an all-consuming flood that left her gasping, body trembling as she clung to him. She let out a keening cry, her voice breaking into soft, shuddering moans, her fingers curling against him as wave after wave of ecstasy coursed through her, leaving her breathless and dazed.

The pleasure was pure, untainted by guilt or hesitation, a dizzying blend of bliss and vulnerability. She felt herself come undone, a thousand stars scattering behind her closed eyelids, each pulse of pleasure brighter than the last. She gasped, her voice a whisper as her senses dissolved, leaving her floating, utterly open and alive in his arms.

She clung to him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she lost herself in the moment, in him. His hands never stopped their slow, sensual caress, letting her enjoy every last bit of her release. His lips never stopped their sweet murmurs of praise as he held her, supported her, guided her through the waves of bliss that crashed over her again and again.

When she finally stilled, panting and spent in his arms, Wonyoung felt something she hadn't in years—free. Free to be herself, free to feel, free to love. She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, a smile spreading across her face.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice hoarse from her cries of pleasure. "Thank you for helping me let go."

He just smiled, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You never have to thank me for that, baby," he murmured, his arms tightening around her. "I'm always here to help you, no matter what."

In the stillness of the night, two souls lay intertwined, wrapped in the embrace of intimacy and comfort. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the rhythmic cadence of their breaths, akin to a gentle melody that enveloped them in a cocoon of warmth. Wonyoung felt a profound sense of peace that had eluded her for far too long, nestled snugly against his chest.

He looked down at her, marveling at the sheer beauty of the moment as the golden rays of the setting sun streamed through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow around them. The tender strokes of his fingers dancing along her back were like a soothing balm, a gentle reminder that she was cherished, easing the weight of her worries and insecurities that often clung to her like a second skin. Each caress felt deliberate, as if he were painting a masterpiece against her skin, and with every touch, she could feel the tension melt away, leaving her breathless and weightless.

Devoid of the pressure and expectations that characterized her public persona, Wonyoung felt free to be simply herself. The world outside faded into a distant murmur, and for once, the gleaming lights and flashing cameras were nothing more than faint memories. In his embrace, she was not the polished idol; she was simply a woman allowing herself to experience vulnerability.

The usual assertiveness of her personality melted into a soft bundle of intimacy. She took a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of him, a mix of her favorite cologne and something uniquely his that made her heart flutter. She turned her head slightly, resting her cheek against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat sync with her own. It was a melody of trust, of safety, allowing her to lower the walls she’d so carefully constructed over the years.

As they sat there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, she shared a rare smile, a smile that spoke of the unguarded joy that danced in the depths of her eyes. In that quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung finally understood that the pressures of the world, the expectations from fans and industry executives, had no claim over this moment. Here, with him, she was stripped of her titles and achievements. She was just Wony — beautifully flawed, wonderfully imperfect, and so deeply human. In the gentle confines of his arms, she felt liberated, ready to embrace every fragment of herself she had kept hidden away.

“I don't know what I did to be so lucky to have you in my life, Thank you so much,” she murmured softly, her words barely breaking the silence, yet carrying an ocean of emotion.

His heart swelled at her gratitude. “You don’t have to thank me, Wony,” he replied, his voice low and reassuring as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

With deliberate slowness, he shifted to tuck a blanket around them, ensuring that the warmth of their connection extended beyond just their bodies. Every gesture was measured, an unspoken promise to hold her carefully, to shield her from the chaos of the outside world. As he enveloped her further into the warmth, she exhaled a soft sigh, feeling the cares of the day slip away like grains of sand through her fingers.

The comforting weight of the blanket, combined with his unwavering presence, created an oasis of tranquility. Wonyoung nestled closer, her fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt, inhaling the familiar scent of him — a blend of warmth, safety, and love. It was a scent that anchored her, reminding her that here, with him, she could fully let go and simply be.

“Your happiness means everything to me,” he murmured softly, wrapping his arms around Wony. “I love taking care of you; it’s my greatest joy.”

In the quiet sanctuary of their shared space, Wonyoung surrendered to the day's final embrace. The weight of hours spent apart now gave way to the serene pull of sleep, a tide of weariness that beckoned her to its peaceful shores. Yet, as the siren call of rest tempted her consciousness, a single, sacred ritual anchored her to the waking world—a phrase that had blossomed into their own secret lexicon, a testament to a bond that defied the physical realm. "Oppaaa… can I have… tucky?" she whispered, her voice a tender plea in the dimly lit room.

The words hung in the air, a delicate invocation, and his heart responded with a symphony of flutters. It was a request that transcended mere comfort; it was the embodiment of a profound craving for closeness, a need that only their unique connection could satisfy. "Of course, baby," he replied, his voice a soothing balm, wrapped in the warmth of a smile that illuminated the shadows.

With meticulous care, he began to undress, each movement a silent vow to honor the sanctity of her comfort. His actions were a dance of devotion, a series of quiet gestures that spoke volumes of his desire to bridge the gap between their bodies while preserving the delicate fabric of her ease.

As Wonyoung positioned herself atop him, her lithe form a perfect complement to his, their bodies began a silent conversation. Her thighs, soft and supple, cradled his hips, while her arms encircled his neck, drawing him into an embrace that promised refuge. Slowly, she lowered herself onto his awaiting form, her slickness guiding him into the heart of her warmth. A gasp, soft and surrendering, escaped her lips as he filled her, stretching her to the brink of pleasure.

In the close warmth of their embrace, Wonyoung's breasts, soft and tender, pressed against the firm contours of his chest. Each breath they shared caused her hardened nipples to graze his skin, a delicate friction that stoked the flames of their desire. Her core, a molten haven, clenched around his length, a rhythmic pulse that echoed the beating of their hearts."

Their dance was unhurried, a languid exploration of the connection that bound them. It was a communion of souls, a testament to the depth of their understanding. With each undulation of Wonyoung's hips, their bodies found solace.

Lost in the comfort of his arms, Wonyoung's sighs mingled with the quiet of the room, a harmony of contentment. Her cheek, nestled in the crook of his neck, inhaled the familiar scent that clung to his skin—a scent that whispered of safety and belonging. Thoughts dissolved into the ether, replaced by the exquisite sensations that coursed through her. Her fingertips, light as a feather's touch, traced the contours of his back, each stroke deepening their connection.

The pleasure that built within her was a slow simmer, a crescendo that threatened to consume them both. Yet, Wonyoung reveled in the anticipation, drawing out the sweet agony of their union. She clung to the moment, unwilling to relinquish the closeness that enveloped them, a closeness that made the world beyond their embrace seem a distant memory.

"You're so perfect," he murmured into her hair, his words a tender confession. "I love you so much. Just like this. Just us." His voice, laden with emotion, was a testament to the depth of his affection. In the stillness of their shared space, their love was a living entity, a force that rendered them invincible in their vulnerability.

Wonyoung smiled at his words, a small, contented grin that reached her eyes as she nuzzled closer. She gently traced slow, lazy patterns across his skin with her fingertips, feeling the soothing rise and fall of his chest beneath her touch. Each caress brought a fresh wave of calm, a deeper sense of security, and a love that wrapped around her like a comforting blanket. She had never felt so cherished, so at peace.

“I love you,” she murmured softly, her voice a delicate whisper filled with gratitude, knowing he understood her heart without needing to say more.

“I love you too, baby, so much,” he replied, his voice tender as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. There was something deeper in his touch—a promise, a vow of unconditional love and support that she could always count on.

As Wonyoung’s body relaxed fully into his, her breathing slowing, he focused on the simple, quiet joy of having her close. The rhythm of her heartbeat matched the serenity of the room, each gentle beat echoing the contentment swelling in his chest. He realized this wasn’t just an intimate moment; it was their sanctuary, a home they had built within each other where love grew and thrived.

“You make me feel safe,” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable, as if confessing a secret.

He smiled, holding her even closer. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he replied softly, his voice thick with emotion. “To be the place where you feel at home.”

Wonyoung’s eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion washed over her. She hummed in content, her voice sleepy but full of warmth as she faded into the quiet, but the love in her tone was unmistakable.

Time seemed to stand still. The world outside—with its chaos and noise—faded into a distant memory, leaving only the peaceful calm that wrapped around Wonyoung and him. In this moment, together, they were safe. Together, they were whole.

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #girl group smut #reader insert #male reader #kinkvember #ive smut #wonyoung smut #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x reader

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inkskinned · 2 years ago

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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.

not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.

you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.

but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.

you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.

but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.

you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.

you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?

you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.

you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!

you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"

#this is very obviously about my battle with #ptsd #but i think it's also like a pretty apt metaphor for a lot of things like setting boundaries or going to therapy or choosing recovery #i was thinking about the 'comes back wrong' trope and i was like. oh no i have feelings about this bc i have mental illness #and once i stopped masking - i was WRONG. i was different #here's the good news: i am now INNUNDATED with love. fucking swimming in it. excelling at it. the people who stayed #learned my new self. my new different body and how i am different but i am trying. they have held me so tightly #and my life no longer feels quiet. it is not based in my suffering. it feels like i have been growing a tree in my chest #and now it is flowering.#it is so lovely to be surrounded by people who have said - oh! you cut off so many branches i was worried you weren't the same. but now...#... this is just a new you. and i love you. and i love that you're different and happy.#(but yeah also im nb so i was absolutely influenced by Trans things)

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i2sunric · 7 months ago

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𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 (p.js)

pairing: doctor!jay x reader (f)

summary: you’ve always thought dating a doctor was hot until you started realising his job was taking your place— but don’t worry, being a doctor meant jay could always stitch your broken heart up!

warnings: fluff (like, 3am typa fluff), early 2000s au, childhood friends to lovers but they’re already lovers, angst (with comfort) cuddling and kissing, a little suggestive (no smut), they grow up together (narration starts from 18), mentions of stress and fainting, mentions of pregnancy, fighting, if more lmk. NOT PROOFREAD.

published: 29th April 2024

wc: 10.5k (longer than i intended ;-;)

tag list: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @wtfhyuck @kim2005bomi @luvpjs7 @sundoie @sunghours @anittamaxwynnn @tinie03

It was the last summer of senior year at high school, the year that everyone would choose what path to undertake, the life they wanted to live, the job they wanted to get.

As scary as it sounded, you didn’t want to think about it yet, just to focus on living your last summer as a teenager before adulthood kicked in with all its difficulties and challenges.

You were laying on the bed at Jay’s holiday cottage at the lake, the temperature of the afternoon was too hot to let you stay outside, so you seeked some escape from the humidity in his bedroom. The grids were only slightly open to let some sun rays enter the room, just enough not to turn on the light.

You were reading a pook, wearing only a dump swimming suit and a pair of jeans shorts, you drenched the sheets but you knew it would be perfectly dry by the evening, so you didn’t really care.

Jay laid on the other side of the bed, your feet beside his head as he studied an anatomy book. You had a clue on how difficult it was to enter the medicine faculty, but seeing your boyfriend giving up his whole summer just to bury his nose in those headache-bringers books made you feel sympathy for all the doctors.

The book in your hand had become boring five minutes before so you just closed it, letting it rest on your chest. You nudged Jay’s arm with your foot “I’m bored.” You let out a small sigh

He looked up from his study material and gave you a soft smile before reaching out to pat your ankle. "I know you're bored, baby. But I'm only an hour away from finishing this.” Jay gave you a reassuring smile

“After I’m done we could go outside and sail the small boat?” A couple of minutes of silence passed and he was ready to you making a fuss about how boring and dull studying was until you said “Or maybe I can help you with your studies?”

"You sure that you wouldn't mind helping me with my studies?" He replied, raising his eyebrows. He let go of your ankle, but he quickly pulled you by your knees while you were curled up on his bed and laid you on top of his lap instead, so now you were using his body as a mattress.

“I’m not as smart as you,” You murmured, snuggling comfortably on his chest as he placed the book in front of both your faces. The amount of latin and difficult words made you close your eyes right away “I’ll just flip the pages when you need.”

Jay let out a low chuckle and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head. It was a small team game, he tried to involve you in his studies, making you ask him some questions to know if he had said it right.

You felt a warm sense of pride in your chest to know that your boyfriend was working so hard for the sake of his dream. You flipped to a page that had a big skeleton drawing on it, beside it there was a man with all the muscles without skin.

You scrunched your nose at the amount of names all the bones and muscled had “You memorised all those names?”

“Not as easily as others do," He confessed, letting out an audible sigh as he caressed your head. "I find it easier when I explain the answers to someone who's willing to listen."

You looked up to his face, your eyes shining with endless love “I’m always willing.”

Jay gave you a sheepish smile, hooking one arm under your knee to intertwine both your legs together. He squeezed your hip in response and you two resumed studying together.

After around fifteen minutes, you started to become bored again. All those letters made your eyes feel heavy, you blinked them a few times “Are you done yet?”

He chuckled softly as he shook his head from side to side. "I still have to memorise more chapters," He sighed, looking up at you with an apologetic grin.

Despite his efforts, it was clear that he was having troubles memorising the contents of the page, and even he knew he was going to be up for quite a while more.

You caressed his chest, feeling the heat radiating from his body even under the white sleeveless shirt he was wearing.

You toyed the necklace you had given him for his fifteenth birthday in your fingers, the same jewel he had sworn to never take off “What are you studying now?”

He raised his eyebrows and looked down at you, smiling as he watched you play with the necklace. "Right now I'm studying about different body systems and conditions, the respiratory system." he said, looking back down at you

You laid your ear on his chest and he fell silent, you tried to hear his breath and commented with a forced funny voice “Your lungs function well.”

“I guess they do.” Jay chuckled, rubbing your back as he continued to study.

The room fell silent once again but your head was full of thoughts.

You started thinking about your future, you pictured yourself in different situations or workplaces but none of them seemed good enough. Or maybe it was you not good enough.

"You know, it's admirable that you already know what you want to be in the future..." You murmured, snuggling closer to him.

The corners of his lips spread into a small smile as he heard your compliment. "Is it admirable for someone my age?" He asked softly, brushing your hair out of your face

“Uh uh,” You hummed, flipping another page for him “I don’t know what I want to be,” You confessed quietly “I don’t see myself anywhere.”

Jay raised his eyebrows as he stopped studying for a long moment to give you his whole attention.

He then looked down at you and lifted your chin to face him. "Are you really unsure about what you want to be in the future?" He asked, his eyes searching for yours.

Your eyes met his deep brown once, and you shook your head, feeling vulnerable. “No, I don’t.” You sighed softly “My mother… My mother wants me to go to some sort of job counsellor.”

Jay let go of your chin to caress your back again “That’s a great idea, actually.” He encouraged, smiling gently. “I mean, it’s better to ask for help now than choosing something you don’t want to do… ain’t it?”

You hummed, dropping your head on his chest “I guess so.” Your tone went quiet and he had been with you enough to know you didn’t want to discuss that topic anymore.

A few minutes passed by and your yawn caught Jay’s attention. He caressed your head, letting his hand run through your hair “You should get some sleep, Y/N.”

“And who’s gonna flip your pages?” You asked, your tone sleepy and your eyes clearly fighting to stay open

He chuckled, placing an incredibly soft feather-like kiss on your nose “I can flip them myself, you look like you’re going to pass out from your tiredness.”

“I guess I could.” You rested your head more comfortably on his chest and closed your eyes. “But when I wake up you better be done studying.”

Jay nodded “Alright baby.” He smiled, watching as you drifted off to sleep right there in his arms. At moments like that, he thought he was the luckiest man alive to have you— and he planned to never love you.

⪩⪨

College years had arrived and to no one’s surprise, you and Jay were still a couple. Seriously, you two loved each other too much to stay away from the other, even with your busy schedules.

You were laying on the lower bunk bed in his dorm. His roommates were out for dinner and left the whole house for you two. And obviously, what was Jay doing instead of spending time with you? Studying.

You acted like you didn’t really mind, flipping through the pages of a magazine. But seeing his back facing you, his hand moving as he was scribbling things on his notebook— you couldn’t help but feel sorrow.

“Are you going to study the whole night?” You asked quietly, not wanting to sound rude as you rolled on your wide to face him.

Jay raised his brows and finally turned around to look at you. His face was tired, pronounced dark circles under his eyes and he had probably skipped his self care routine for a few days. That didn’t make him less attractive, though.

“Pretty much,” He replied “I’m kind of behind on a lot of study materials.”

“Oh.” You nodded, shifting again to face the mattress of the other bed on top of Jay’s. He took in your bored expression and grimaced “You know you don’t have to stay here while I study, right?”

“But we don’t have time to spend together apart for some evenings,” You stated, looking back at him with a pout.

He chuckled softly, letting out a quiet sigh before closing his study materials and walking over to the bed. He climbed in beside you so he was under the covers with you. He then pulled you in and cuddled you tightly. "I know," He murmured, squeezing you a little tighter “I know baby.”

You rested your forehead on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I don't want to disturb you.”

Jay laughed quietly as he kissed the top of your head. "You're not disturbing me in the slightest bit, so don't apologise,"

He said, running his hand through your hair gently. "I honestly don't mind having you beside me while I study." And you knew that, but sometimes you felt as if you were just an element of disturbance in his daily life.

It all started when you saw him fall into a deep slumber anytime he sneaked in your dorm, like he hadn’t closed eye for weeks; then how he’d always find a way to escape your dates to review a few materials and like now, when he’d study with only you in the room.

You knew he didn’t do it on purpose, he was just trying to survive college, and you felt guilty to have such resentment.

You looked up at him from his shoulder “I just… miss you nowadays.”

His eyes instantly softened "I miss you too.” He sighed “I know I’ve been studying a lot more lately, and I understand if you feel like I'm not spending enough time with you," He admitted.

“And I understand that you’re busy,” You acknowledged “You always work so hard for your degree.”

Jay smiled sadly and rubbed your arm up and down "I know I study like crazy, but it's because all of these things matter so much in the future.” He started explaining “It means that I'll be able to have a more secure job and..." he sighed again and paused before continuing “And i wouldn't have done this if I knew I couldn't spend time with you."

Your brows knitted “Don’t say that.” You raised your head so you could look into his eyes.

“You’ve been wanting to be a doctor since we were kids, Jay, And—“ Your voice cracked a little “I can’t guarantee we’ll be forever together, but you’ll always have a stable job with the degree you’re studying for.”

Jay nodded “I know that too…” He rubbed his temples, frustrated “I just wish I could spend more time with you.”

You smiled and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek “It’s okay, when exams season is over we’ll go on a small vacation, sounds good?”

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms tightly around your body while pulling you closer towards him. "Sounds nice." he murmured, planting gentle kisses on your forehead “Although…”

You asked in a quiet voice "Although?" Jay looked away, “I still have a big exam coming up next month," He confessed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know how well I’m going to do, honestly."

“Oh,” You gulped, blinking “And why do you think so?”

Jay gave you a half-smile "I Just feel like I'm not studying enough. The material i need to memorise.. It’s so much— I'm worried that I won't be able to remember most of it when the time comes."

You stayed silent for a few beats, trying to find any solution to help him “Maybe we should do a no-contract month?”

It took him a moment to process what you said "A no contact… month?" Jay repeated, looking away at the wall "Do you mean.. as in no contact with each other? For the entire month?"

You nodded slowly, not sounding sure of your own choice “So you don’t have any distraction and can concentrate on your classes?”

He raised his eyebrows, letting out a long and steady breath before speaking. "I understand it might help me with my studies, but.." Jay looked away from you again, unsure "Don't you think it's a bit too extreme?"

You fidgeted with the blanket, looking down “I know..”

“I mean... it seems pretty extreme." His fingertips then began to massage his temples. "You're right though, I do get pretty distracted when we're together, and my studies have been lacking because of that."

You tried to mask the pain you felt in your heart with a small smile “It’s just a month.”

Jay couldn't help but frown at the idea of not talking to you or seeing you for an entire month. "Yeah, but—" he started, but then suddenly realised. "Wait, does this no-contact month also mean that we can't meet either?"

“People usually do it after a break up, but we can do it just to focus on college. It’s like we’re off but we aren’t, we just don’t talk to each other for a month.” You exclaimed, nodding

He bit his bottom lip “We really can’t meet for a whole month? At all?”

“Baby, listen,” You caressed his cheek, propping yourself up on your elbows. “I don’t like this either, but it’s for the best?” You asked “I don’t want to get in your way.”

He sighed once again “You’ll never get in my way, never say that.” He then slowly nodded his head.

"I completely understand your point, but...it just feels way too bizarre.” His brows were furrowed. “I mean, we're used to talking every day, for us to stop talking for an entire month, it's just..." His words trailed off as he sighed and looked away.

You moved some hair away from his forehead “Just until your next exam.” You said “I’ll work my part time job, save some money and we’ll rent somewhere for a week, just us.”

Jay looked at you, worry painted all over his face “And you’re sure you’re completely okay with doing this?” You gulped down “No,” You whispered “But I’ll have to.”

He seemed to debate your suggestion, silence filling the room. After a couple of minutes, he caressed your cheek “Fine, I guess it's what's best for the both of us right now." He murmured.

“Just stay with me tonight,” You begged, “We’ll start tomorrow.”

His heart broke a little at your wobbling bottom lip “Let’s make the most of the night, my roommates will be back in early morning anyways.” Jay was still surprised you suggested that weird break, and he was even more stunned he had accepted.

You took his face in your hands, bringing him in for a kiss. “I love you.” You murmured on his lips.

Jay softly smiled against your mouth before he kissed you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your body as he started to pull you into him. His arms squeezed you more as he deepened the kiss a bit more, letting out a soft groan into your mouth. "I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.” You stated. He smirked and shifted position so he was now on top of you, resting his weight on his elbow not to crash you down “Bet?”

His hand cupped your cheek before slowly sliding down on your chest. You gasped since it was cold. “Jay… someone might hear us.”

“I don't care,” Jay shook his head, his tone breathless. His mouth claimed yours once again, full of unspoken but mutual feelings “Be mine for the night.”

“I’m always yours.” You said, letting him do anything he wanted, knowing you had made an oath to never leave his side.

⪩⪨

Finally, college had almost finished and it was the last day before university. Anyone would’ve been on cloud 9 but you felt a pang of sadness. It meant you and Jay had to part ways, the university he had chosen was in the big city, five hours away from your hometown.

You waited for him outside the graduation hall, seeing groups of overjoyed students throwing their hats in the air.

Jay came out of the room, rushing after having read your message. He wore his graduation gown and looked ever so perfect.

He saw you, a bright smile immediately appeared on his face as he started to walk to you.

He was incredibly nervous about leaving for college and it showed on his face as he approached you, but seeing you there made everything else seem a bit less threatening.

He finally reached you, wrapping his arms around your waist. "You came," he said softly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You hugged his chest and whispered “How could I not?” Jay squeezed you back as he grinned, "I'm glad that you did, but I was already sure you would.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.”

“I’m afraid you’re stuck with me, doc.” You teased him with the nickname, but your teary eyes gave away your true feelings.

“This year has gone by so fast.” He murmured, caressing the back of your neck "And of course I’m stuck with you. I wouldn't have it any other way." His smile was so gentle it made you fall for him over and over again.

But the grin on his face disappeared as quickly as it appeared, making you frown “What’s wrong?”

Jay shook his head, “I’m just worried about us now since we'll have to do long distance."

Your lips trembled but you still managed to let your words out “We’ll be okay, right?”

His heart sank as he noticed your trembling lips. He gently squeezed you and gave you a small, reassuring smile. "Of course we'll be okay. If anyone's going to make long distance work, it's the both of us.”

Jay caressed your cheek with his thumb “I believe in us, and I’m going to come back as often as I can so we have time together. It'll be okay."

“Right,” You forced out a smile “We’ll make it work.”

“I’ll be back for summer, we can always go to the lake cottage,” Jay reassured, knowing you’ve always loved your summer trips to his holiday house

“And whenever we have a holiday—" He muttered, a small frown appearing on his face when he realised that you wouldn't be able to see each other as often as they used to.

You couldn’t hold it anymore and a few tears fell down your cheeks, you sniffled “Of course.”

His eyes widened when he noticed you were crying "Hey... hey, hey, hey," He murmured softly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "Don't cry right now, everything's going to be okay, mh?”

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, smiling with sad eyes “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Jay’s face contorted into a painful expression, his heart pounding heavily in his chest.

He had always hated seeing you crying, but knowing that he was the reason behind your tears made his stomach close. “You know that I'm going to miss you just as much as you'll miss me once we're long distance, right?" He asked.

You chuckled and nodded, sniffling once again “I’ll be here waiting for you, Jay.”

"I'll be back for you every chance I get," He promised, squeezing you a bit tightly.

"Remember to keep in touch constantly, alright? No matter how busy we are, let's always make time for each other over the phone." Jay took out his phone from the pocket. “I bought this new Nokia only for you.”

You smiled widely and showed him your phone, a Nokia of the same type just in a pinkish colour “I bought this for you too.”

Jay pulled your face close to his chest, caressing your head and hair in a gentle manner, just like he always did.

He never failed to make you fall for him with every small action, treating you as if you were worth it. And to him, you were worth every fight, every difficulty coming with relationships. He’d endure it all just to be with you.

“I’m sorry,” You took a deep breath, trying not to let your voice shake. “I didn’t even congratulate you.” You smiled widely, “I’m so proud of you, baby. I really am.”

Jay hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear that until he did.

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you, for always being by my side.” He placed a featherlight kiss on your forehead "You know, since it was your graduation today as well... Maybe I should give you a graduation present.” He trailed off “I actually have a surprise for you, if you would like it."

Your brows shot up in surprise “You do?” Jay nodded and motioned you to wait.

He battled a little with his gown before retrieving a tiny velvet box from the pocket “Here you go, baby.” Your eyes scanned it, “What is it?”

Jay bit his bottom lip to hide his smile “Open it.” He held it out for you to take. You gave him a small stare before opening the small box, revealing two couple rings.

Inside there was also a note that said ‘One day you'll get the wedding ones.’ Your breath hitched.

He smirked as he watched the expression on your face change, becoming incredibly surprised and even a bit teary-eyed as you opened the box.

His eyes softened as he glanced down at the rings “I know they're not the actual wedding bands and it'll take a while until we get to that point... but I wanted to give you these as a symbolic gesture of me promising that we'll be married someday."

You mumbled nonsense for a few seconds, happy tears rolling down your cheeks as you felt overwhelmed by his sudden actions “I love them, I love them so much— I love you.” You blurted out.

Jay held you against his chest as you both embraced each other. "I love you too," He whispered, burying his head into your hair. "I love you so much."

“Oh lord,” You stumbled a little back to look at the rings once again “How much did you pay— They look so precious.”

“Don’t mind that,” Jay wiped the remaining tear stains “You’re worth it, so very worth it.” He tucked your hair behind your ear “And you’re right, they’re precious. Like you.”

You rolled your eyes and hid your face in the crook of his neck “You’re so romantic.” Jay planted a small kiss on your head “You like it when I’m romantic.”

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, just melting into each other’s embrace.

You then sniffled and took one ring out of the small box “Doc, would you mind giving me your right hand?” He chuckled and held his hand out for you “Not at all.”

Jay smiled back as he let you place the ring on his finger, his heart instantly warming up when he realised how real this all really is.

He was finally going to be able to say that he was officially engaged, that he was soon going to be married to you. Jay looked down at the ring as you finished and his eyes started to tear up a bit.

"Thanks," his voice barely came out of his throat, but he was still able to softly smile.

You then gave him the small box and held out your hand for him. He gently squeezed your hand “Shall i?" He asked as he motioned towards your finger, wanting to put the other ring on it.

“Please, do.” You whispered, the anticipation killing you.

Jay carefully took out the ring and looked it over for a couple of seconds.

He then slipped the ring on your finger very slowly, making sure that it was fitted well “It fits perfectly.” He commented, kissing your knuckles, barely brushing his lips on them, like a true gentleman.

You sniffled again and let out a euphoric chuckle before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your lips on his, never wanting to get away from that boy.

The moment you kissed him, his arms tightened around you, not wanting to let go of you ever again.

He had never felt this way before until you came into his life, back in third grade. He had truly felt complete, that he had finally found the person he would spend the rest of his life with. “I want you always," he mumbled softly between the kisses.

“I want you forever,” You murmured back with the same sincerity. He kissed your lips once more, needing to fill his nostrils with your sweet scent, his mouth with the taste of you before he had to move away for five years.

⪩⪨

A couple of years passed and between ups and downs, you and Jay were still strong. Long distance was difficult, you couldn’t lie, but keeping yourself busy with your small café and meeting whenever you two had free time was enough for you. Besides, you could still call with your matching Nokias.

Which was your plan for that afternoon, you sat down on a table at your café and dialled his number, mindlessly playing with the ring on your finger as you waited for him to pick up, hoping it wouldn’t go to voice mails.

One the call reached Jay, he smiled as he recognized your number on screen, picking it up immediately. It had been some time since you both had called each other, so hearing your voice brought a smile to his face before he opened his mouth and greeted you. "Hi, babe.”

“Hey,” You whispered, relief evident in your tone “Am I calling in a bad moment?” You asked, hearing chatterings from the other line.

“No, no, not at all.” He sat down on a bench outside his university building “What are you doing? Just working?”

“Yeah,” You sighed “But business hasn’t been going well nowadays.”

His heart instantly sank as he heard about how business hadn't been well. He wanted to be your support system always, even when he wasn't there physically as much as before. “Oh no… I mean, you're doing your best with it, right?"

“I guess I am.” You replied "No, you are." He quickly corrected you “Do you want me to come over so that we can talk about it? We can work on solutions or at least brainstorm."

You were quick to dismiss “No, don’t do five hours of train just for a small complaint of mine.”

Jay tried to recall in mind his schedules, he had finished lectures for that day, which meant he could come to you and then take the late evening train back to the city “Baby… Don’t tell me not to come over if you need me there.”

"I’m serious, Jay, it's okay," You murmured quietly "I just needed to hear your voice, if you have free time you should use it to rest."

The way that you cared for him made his heart beat fast. "I'll gladly come over," He said softly. "I have time to spare. plus.. if I come over, I can actually hug you and comfort you better than over the phone, can’t I?"

“You already came over three weeks ago.” You stated “I know, but like I said, I’d rather spend time with you than not.”

You dismissed him once again “I’m fine Jay, you don’t have to.”

“Babe, don’t tell me you’re fine if you’re not.” Jay pleaded “I don’t think you are, let me come over.”

You stayed silent a few beats “What about uni?” He knew you’d ask “I finished classes for today, I can come over for a few hours and then come back before classes tomorrow.”

You sighed, your voice cracking a little “I could really use one of your hugs.”

“Okay,” Jay breathed out “I’ll be there, wait for me at your café.”

Hating that he couldn’t teleport right to you, he hurried to the train station and waited, knowing you were going through a rough path.

You hardly ever asked for help, and Jay was sure whatever was going on had been haunting you for a while for you to call him in such a state.

After a few hours, the door of your café opened, making the small bell ring. You turned around and started saying “Welcom—“ When you realised it was your boyfriend.

Jay entered the cafe, his eyes instantly searched for you and his face lit up when he found you. It wasn’t hard, you were the only one there.

You were running towards him and he felt his whole heart melting. His arms were wide open and he smiled warmly, taking you into a warm embrace.

Jay immediately pulled you close to his chest, burying his head in your hair and breathing you in.

It had been three weeks since he last was at your side and the scent you had filled his lungs as he finally was this close to you again took him aback by how familiar and comforting it was.

You sobbed quietly, letting out all the tears you’d been holding as you hid your face in the crook of his neck, smelling the familiar scent of lavender of his clothes softener.

Your whole body quivering almost uncontrollably, and he knew you were hiding so much sadness behind those tears. “Shhh... shhh.. It'll be okay," He hissed softly, his voice calm and soothing as he kept whispering those same words to you over and over again.

You pulled away slightly, your whole face contorted in a frown “They want— They want to shut it down.”

Your sentence lacked context but he realised that your cafe was probably going to be closed down soon.

He didn't want your business to close, especially when he knew that it was your pride and joy. He pulled you back into his chest again, “It'll be okay. We'll figure something out.”

“It won’t!” You snapped, your voice breaking “It never does…”

Jay’s heart hurt even more as you shouted, your voice sounding so defeated and sad.

He didn't like the harsh reality you were facing and the fact that you would be going through this— Jay was supposed to protect you from the world, but he had neglected you for too long.

“Oh God—“ You blinked faintly, realisation hitting you “I didn’t know why I shouted, I’m sorry.”

The corner of his lips turned upwards briefly. "Hey, don't apologise for showing emotions." He gently dried your tears "It’s just... so frustrating to hear how you're losing something that you care about, that you've put so much effort in and that you're so passionate about."

You let out a bitter chuckle “It always goes this way.” Jay wanted to scold you for always thinking so low of yourself and never fighting, but he was in no position for that.

“I don’t know what to do,” You shook your head to emphasise your words “If it shuts down how will I pay the rent? I won’t have any money.”

Jay could feel you panic and didn’t want that stress and worry to get to you. "We'll figure something out," He said as he gently cupped your face and lifted it up so that you were staring at him. "We'll figure something out. You're not going to be in this alone, I promise."

You shook your head once more, sobbing “I’ll have to move back with my parents— we’ll be even further away.”

The possibility of you moving into your parents' home still made him feel sick. He wanted to keep you close to him and wanted to share a home with you.

He wanted to move in with you, not have you move back to your parents' house.

"Y/N, it's not going to come to that," He muttered softly, kissing your forehead. You sighed and let yourself go, your weight pressing on him “I’m just so tired.”

“Let me take some of that weight off you, baby,” Jay whispered “I’m here.”

You stayed silent a few beats, letting the mere presence of Jay put back the shattered pieces of your soul. “You just had five hours of train and all I did was complain.” You dried your tears with your thumb.

You showed him a faint smile “Sit, I’ll make you a cup of coffee.” He nodded and walked to the nearest table, sitting down.

You made him a cup of coffee and sat down on the chair opposite to him, smiling “It's on the house.”

He grinned softly as he took the cup, the smell of the coffee filling him with delight.

It was such a simple thing and yet it meant so much to him, given you made it. "Oh, so even though you're in a rough patch, your hospitality has not gone," he teased playfully before taking a sip.

“Call it boyfriend pass.” You winked at him. You then cleared your throat and fidgeted with the ring “How’s uni?”

Jay took another sip “Just uni, lectures… assignments here and there, many exams.” He trailed off “Just very busy.”

Your brows knitted in guilt “I’m so sorry you had to come here.” Jay took your hand in his, your rings tingling as they touched “You needed me, You needed comfort." He chuckled lightly. "And there's nowhere else I should have been other than here."

You answered with a smile and took your chair, scooting close to him. You put your head on his shoulder “Want me to stroke your hair for a bit?” He asked and you nodded “Please.”

Jay started stroking your hair, sipping the coffee with the other “How do you feel right now? Better?”

You chuckled “Less like a wreck.” A few minutes of silence followed until Jay asked “Are you scared of losing the café?”

"I feel like all the efforts I made weren't enough." You closed your eyes "I should've settled for a more stable job."

"But that would've made you so unhappy, you know?" he spoke softly. "Baby, I feel your enthusiasm every time you talk about your café, don’t regret something that made you happy.”

“What about you?" You raised my head and rested your chin on his shoulder to look at his face "Do you ever get so tired of studying you want to quit?"

"Sometimes," Jay admitted. “There were plenty of all night studying sessions that kept me up and made me question how I got to this point in life." He laughed, nudging your side playfully.

"But I would've never thought of quitting. I know it's going to pay off in the end." You hummed “Of course, You always work so hard.”

"And so do you," He whispered softly, squeezing your hand gently. "Sometimes I don't understand how you work at your cafe for so long and still have energy left to do other things... and sometimes I'm just worried about you overworking."

“You don’t push yourself too much right?” He asked, his voice laced with worry. Your sudden silence made him wonder if you were not telling him something.

“I fainted once.” You confessed. His grip tightened around your hand as he looked down at you, “You fainted? When? Why didn't you tell me about it?"

“Before Christmas break.” You whispered “It was exam season, I didn't want to distract you.”

It was in moments like those that Jay felt like giving everything up. Because why on earth would you think you were being a burden, a distraction to him when you literally fainted?

"No, no... you should have told me, even if I was busy. I would've come to you then." You sat up properly “I didn’t want you to.”

He was speechless for a minute, his mind trying to process what had happened. "Why wouldn't you want me to know? How could you go through it on your own?”

"Jay, Jay," You said, taking his face in my hands. "I'm grand, alright? I'm doing fine."

"I don't like that you hid something so serious from me," Jay muttered softly, his eyes meeting yours. "It's too important to hide from me."

“I know,” You nodded, letting go of his face “And I’m sorry.” Jay nodded at your apology “How did it happen?”

You sighed “I couldn’t afford to keep other workers so I had to run the café alone, I ran around and around and then I had a few other things.” You gulped down, recalling the moment “I went to bed feeling a little dizzy, I paid it no mind but the next morning as I woke up I fell flat on the floor.”

Jay’s whole world shuttered. He looked down to the floor, his jaw tense as he took in your words “You should’ve never ignored those signs, Y/N.” He called you by your name only when he was serious, his low voice sounding a little scary

“How could you—“ Jay took a sigh, trying to calm down “It could’ve been worse, something could have happened while you slept, you could’ve hit your head..” He looked as if he was on the verge of tears.

“Jay..” You murmured “I’m okay now, I know the risks I took, I was incoherent.” You took his hand in yours “It won’t happen again.”

“I should just transfer back here.” He got up from the chair, pacing around the room “I can take the train everyday to the city, I can do that, yeah.”

“No.” You stopped him “Jay, no.”

“Yes,” He turned around, facing you. His breath was heavy “Y/N, you— you could’ve died.”

“I didn’t.” You tried to soothe but even you felt like your efforts were worthless. “That doesn’t change the fact that I almost lost you— and I wasn’t even aware!” Jay looked like a maniac, his hands in his hair and his eyes bloodshot from frustration.

There was a moment where you both just stared into each other’s eyes, no words exchanged. Your eyes were full of regrets for having kept that from him and his were filled with the same emotion for not having taken care of you the way he should’ve.

“Don’t give up now, not for me.” You shook your head, slowly walking closer to him until you touched his forearm with your fingers, letting him know you were there. Breathing.

“You’re worth it.” Jay breathed out the same words he’d been repeating you, looking down at you, studying out features. His glance was so soft it almost hurt “Not this.” You shook your head.

Jay pulled you into a hug, so tight and full of emotions “Just three more years and we’ll be together.” He murmured “Just a little bit longer and we'll be able to share an apartment together. Just you and me."

You smiled on his chest, hugging him back “And we’ll get married.”

His entire face lit up with glee whenever you mentioned the idea of marriage, his finger swirled around the ring on your finger. “And we'll get married," He whispered softly, his eyes still focused on yours. "We'll finally be married and our families will finally stop asking us about our wedding plans," He laughed, the previous tension already forgotten

“Don’t even get started.” You laughed as well

"Yeah, for me it's my mom constantly bothering me with 'so when is it going to happen?'" He paused for a moment and cocked his head to the side playfully. "And for you? Is it your dad that's constantly bringing up the topic?"

You smiled and nodded “He’s afraid he’s going to die before he can walk me on the aisle.”

“That’s just a better incentive to wife you up.” Jay held your arms in his hands, gently rubbing them. You looked up at him and couldn’t help but cup his face, bringing your lips to him once more.

Jay’s eyes lit up the moment you kissed him. He let out a soft murmur, his lips responding to your kiss softly.

“I missed you,” You murmured between kisses “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Jay responded, his lips travelling to the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss “Only three years and you’ll be mine forever.”

“I think I’ve always been yours.”

⪩⪨

Another year had passed and New Year’s Eve came. A bummer that Jay could not come back to you those holidays because he had found a job to maintain his studies and was simultaneously studying for an extra course. After the small fight you had at the café (that shut down not long after) you two grew closer, if it was even possible.

Despite the long distance, you felt so connected to him. You dialled his number, feeling as you waited for him to answer.

Your phone beeped a bit before hearing his familiar tone on the other end. "Hey babe," His voice was as bright as ever “Did you miss me?"

“Hi,” You breathed out, sniffling due to the cold temperatures “I don’t miss you at all.” You teased

Jay’s brows furrowed slightly as he heard you sniffle. "Hey, are you okay? Are you sick?" He asked instantly with concern, ignoring your playful joke and wanting to make sure you were alright.

"I'm outside!" You explained happily, looking around at all the people inside the main square "Fireworks are nicer if you see them from here."

He let out a sigh of relief when he heard that. “Good. you gave me a bit of a scare there, babe. Are you enjoying yourself?” As expected, the soon-to-be doctor always worried for nothing.

“No, there are so many couples here," You joked "My boyfriend is so evil he didn’t even come to me."

Jay chuckled softly "Oh yeah? Just wait until I'm there. I'll make all those couples in the whole square jealous." He groaned, "Ugh, I can't believe I'm missing being with my girlfriend when we should be spending the new year together."

"I understand," Yoh reassured, looking up at the huge clock ticking close to the new year, a feeling of both nostalgia and excitement washing through you. "What are you doing now? Don’t tell me you’re studying".

“Well... you guessed it," He admitted softly, “...Studying. I have a final exam for my extra course coming up soon."

“No, Jay.” You said sadly “Not now.” His brows furrowed at your sudden change of tone and he asked “What’s wrong?”

You sighed “Can you drop your pen and walk to the window?”

Jay was caught off guard by the unexpected request. Though he had no reason to resist you, he set his pen and his open study books aside and stood up. He walked to his window.

"Three more minutes before the new year," You murmured "Look at the fireworks with me, the sky is only one so it makes me feel closer to you."

His eyes immediately turned to the outside, looking at the fireworks and the sky that was lit up by so many bright colors. It was breathtaking, and his eyes took it all in as he stood in the window, watching the sky as the time slowly ticked towards the new year.

He could almost imagine you right next to him, both of you watching the beautiful display together. "Yes," He whispered, “I can almost feel you right next to me."

“One more minute!” You squealed happily, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend.

Everyone started laughing and screaming, clapping their hands as the clock struck midnight, the sky lit up with more fireworks “Happy New Year, baby.” You told Jay and he said back the same words.

“Just one year and half until our big plan.” You stated, looking down at your ring.

“Just one year and half…” He repeated, a small smile displayed on his face

“We’ll be alright… Won’t we?” You asked, your voice quiet, barely audible with all the external noise. But Jay still heard you, he always did.

The question you asked was so simple, but it carried a lot of weight to it. "Yeah. We'll be okay, babe." His soft voice assured you of that. "Of course we will. We have always managed to find ways to deal with distance... we'll be fine."

You looked around and saw couples kissing and holding hands, spending that special time together. Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you stepped away from the square and back on the way to your apartment "Can you stay on the phone a little longer? Until I get home..."

“Of course baby,” Jay reassured, playing with the necklace he always wore. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need me.”

You started walking, your nose red and cheeks hurting from the cold weather “It’s so cold nowadays.” You commented.

"Hey... you're okay, right? Are you sure you'll be alright making your way home alone? Are you wearing enough layers?” Jay asked softly, his tone of concern obvious.

You chuckled at his words “Don’t act like my mother.”

He laughed along with you. "Sorry... I just— worry too much about you sometimes. you know?”

You nodded though he could not see you. “I know, but I'm grand here.” You hummed “I’m an independent woman.”

“That may be true,” Jay stated, his whole face shining from the light of the fireworks “But your boyfriend here is worried about your health, especially in this cold weather.”

"I’m about to reach home and then i'll take a warm shower and go to sleep," You murmured, placing your free hand in your pocket "You don't study until late night, ok?"

"Well..." His voice was playful "No promises, a man's got to get good grades.” But your tone wasn’t “Please Jay… At least not today.”

“Okay, alright.” He knew you were just worried for him the same way he was for you “I’ll stop studying for tonight.”

“Promise?” You asked, “Promise.” He answered.

“Then, after you take a shower, can you stay on the phone for a while?” Jay’s voice was laced with vulnerability, the long distance taking a ton on him as well.

Your voice softened at his words “Of course baby,” You whispered “I’ll stay with you on the phone.”

“Hey, Y/N.” Jay murmured “Yes?” You said, fiddling with the keys.

“I love you.” You stopped moving for a moment, “I love you more.”

⪩⪨

Years passed by and vows were exchanged, Jay and you now happily lived together.

You still remembered that day when you got him at the train station, feeling all giddy to finally have the life you’ve always dreamt of with the only person you’ve ever loved.

You thought all your vicissitudes were over, that your many many years of patience had finally paid off— but no, because Jay’s traineeship was taking your place yet again.

Despite the fact that your apartment that once looked lifeless was now hosting a couple, it seemed as if it had lost its previous colours with your gloomy demeanour.

Jay spent all his day at the hospital, learning new things and trying to build a good relationship with his superiors.

And it’s not like you weren’t happy for him— No, you were overjoyed… but what about you?

Since you two became a couple, it felt as if you had spent all your life waiting for him, waiting for the life you two had promised to build together, but the only effort came from you. And now that you were married, the crack in your heart started to become a chasm.

Everything went downhill when, one day, you woke up yet again to an empty bed, the wrinkled sheets the only proof they Jay had spent the night there. He came back late and got out in the early morning— an endless circle that maybe he was used to when he was still a student.

But now Jay was your husband and you seeked all the things any wife wished for. Just some quality time would have been enough.

You got up from the bed and held your breath when you heard a noise coming from the living room. Quietly, you tiptoed to the bedroom door, peeking from the glimmer of the half-closed door.

A rather messed up Jay stomped around the house, in search of something. You got out of the door and walked inside the living room “Jay?” You asked

Without even greeting you, he just said “Where’s my spare gown?”

You blinked faintly, your mind still a little empty from sleeping “I don’t know.” Jay let out a deep groan “I told you to wash it the other day.”

“I still need to hang it with the laundry.” You replied, now remembering “You know I need it to work, Y/N.” His voice was low

“The other one?” You asked “Dirty,” He just mumbled, fumbling with some shirts “Hey! I had folded them neatly.”

“Fold them again.” Jay just answered “I need my gown, we have an important meeting today with the head doctors.”

“It’s dirty,” You stated “Just ask one of your colleagues to lend you one.”

“There’s my name on the gown.” He stopped and dropped the clothes on the floor. “I can’t talk to them while wearing someone else’s name.”

“Just cover it.” Jay rolled his eyes and let out a sigh, “I’m trying to help you.” You said, noticing his distressed behaviour.

“Well, you’re not.” He tsked, making you open your mouth in disbelief. Jay looked at you, raising a brow “What?”

“What?” You asked back with a frown “You just disrespect me and the work I do in our house and you ask ‘What’?” Your voice was dangerously low.

He gulped, glancing down at the discarded ironed clothes on the floor. He picked them up and placed them on the chair once again “Here.”

You let out a sigh and looked away. “Just take your dirty gown and go to your meeting.” You said harshly.

Jay ran a hand through his hair, frustrated “Listen Y/N— I didn’t mean to be so rude.” You still refused to meet his gaze.

“Please, love. Don’t get mad now.” He walked a step closer to you but you just backed away, making him frown “What’s wrong?”

“Everything.” You muttered, your eyes full of hurt now locking with his dark ones. His breath hitched as he took in your pained expression.

“W-Why?” He asked, genuinely confused, “If it’s because of this— I’m sorry, I’m just so stressed.”

“And I am tired.” You stated “I am tired of waking up to an empty bed and going to bed the same way, I am tired of spending all my holidays alone because of your work.”

You let out all the build frustration you had felt through the years “I am tired of waiting for you, Jay, when will all this end?”

Jay raised his hands to caress your arms but you stepped back again, not needing to break down now, but needing to set this straight.

“I know, I’ve been so busy lately.” You scoffed, “You’ve always been busy.”

“I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, Jay.” Your tone was shaky, “I’ve always supported you, since we were kids and even more after we became a couple. But I feel like I missed the most beautiful years of my life because of you.”

His breath sagged “Don’t say that..”

“But it’s the truth.” You stated “I said more ‘I miss you’s than ‘I love you’s in this relationship.”

“I—“ Jay’s bottom lip wobbled. “I’m sorry..”

You sighed, shaking your head. You then glanced up to the clock “It’s already eight, you’ll be late to your meeting.”

You turned around and were about to walk into the bathroom when Jay’s big and strong hands wrapped around your waist “I love you, Y/N.” He said, almost desperately.

You tried your best not to let your tears fall “I know,” You whispered “But maybe you love your job more.” You shrugged away from his embrace and locked yourself in the bathroom.

Jay tried to open the door but you had already turned the key, he helplessly knocked on it “Y/N, please, let’s talk this out.”

As much as you wanted it, your whole body and mind was drained from the constant feeling of sorrow you said in a quiet voice “Just go away, Jay.”

Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. “Please, come out, let’s talk.” He pleaded

But you just dismissed him once again “I don’t know the things I’d say if we talked now.”

Jay knew he had messed up, really bad this time, and he wanted to make it right. To make it up.

How could he be so obvious to your pain? How could he have not noticed?

You had all the right to be mad at him, in fact, he deserved the slaps you should’ve given him. He deserved your anger, your resentment.

He wasn’t in his right mind that morning— Truth is, he hadn’t been for quite some time.

Traineeship was so exhausting, coming from a whole adulthood of self sacrifice and sabotage, he thought he was the only one suffering. Turned out you were as affected by his actions as him, if not even more.

Jay was so lost in thought he hadn’t even realised he had been typing the same word countless times in the report of the previous meeting. As much as he tried not to think about it, his mind kept drifting back to you.

One of his colleagues noticed his gloomy demeanour and sat on the chair in front of Jay’s desk, tapping his fingers on it “Hey there.” He waved a hand in front of his face.

“Not now, Jake.” Jay groaned, resting his face on his hand, his cheek slightly crushed against his palm “I’m not in the mood.”

“Damn man,” The doctor with the heavy australian accent commented “Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

Jay took a deep sigh, shaking his head “No one, I just am an emeritus douchebag.” Jake raised a playful brow, “Tell me something I don’t know?”

But the death glare he received from the other party made him nod in acknowledgment “Troubles in heaven?”

Jay frowned “How’d you know?” And Jake just smirked in response “You’re so obvious.”

He then leaned his elbows on the desk “Tell me everything.”

Jay tsked “Why should I?” And Jake clicked his tongue back “Dude, believe me, you’ll feel better after you confess your sins.”

“Why do you assume it’s my fault?” The Australian eyed him up and down “Is it not?”

Jay sighed heavily, running a hand on his face “I messed up really bad.”

He nodded, letting Jay know he was listening “Y/N… She’s the best thing that ever happened in my life,” He started “She is my first friend, my first love, my first kiss and time… It has always been her.” He smiled unconsciously.

“But I failed her, I think, I haven’t realised she’s been suffering in silence all these years.” Jay shook his head at himself.

“Does she regret your marriage?” Jay’s eyes widened at such a statement “God, I hope not.” But then he bit his bottom lip “I wouldn’t blame her if she did, though.”

Jake sighed “Listen man, I met Y/N only once or twice, but I see the way she looks at you.”

“How?” Jay asked “As if you were the only one in the whole world, and I mean it.”

“But maybe she doesn’t anymore,” Jay sighed softly “Maybe I lost her for real this time.”

Jake raised a brow, “You love her?” Jay looked at his colleague as if he had just offended him “I’ve always loved her and I always will.”

“Damn right!” Jake smirked, “Now, go tell her.” He shook his head, “I’m on duty.”

Jake sighed and turned the computer screen toward him, he opened a few types and typed on the keyboard and he turned towards him as well and then smiled victoriously “Not anymore.”

Jay glanced at the screen just to see his name had been replaced with Sim Jaeyun on the file with all the rounds “Why?”

Jake got up from the chair and patted his mate’s shoulder “Go get your wife back before it’s really too late.”

⪩⪨

“I’m coming home right now, I’m coming back to you and I’ll make sure you actually stay, both physically and mentally. I’m so sorry for everything baby, and I know this voice mail will probably find you in a desperate state and it breaks me to know I am the cause.” Sigh “I just hope you can forgive me, because I love you, definitely more than my job.”

You replayed Jay’s voice mail countless times, his voice breaking, clearly on the verge of tears. You sat down on the sofa, waiting anxiously for the front door to open, and when it did, you raised to your feet.

Jay rushed inside, almost stumbling as he took off his shoes and gown, discarding both of them on the floor. You both stared at each other, just taking in your presence “Hi.” You breathed out.

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, Jay’s arms wrapped around your body, your head pressed against his chest “Forgive me, love.” He whispered in your ear.

You pulled away, just enough to look inside his eyes “It’s okay—“ “It’s not.” He cut you out, “Don’t lie baby, not anymore.”

Jay’s deep, brown eyes were so sincere you felt your heart skip a few beats “I’ve been foolish, I didn’t realise your discontent for nine whole years. But I do now, I see all you sacrificed just to be with me. I see you.”

You smiled gently, looking up at him. He didn’t fail to notice the swelling and redness in your eyes “I see you too.” You whispered, placing one hand on his cheek.

“You saw me even before I saw myself.” Jay’s tone was gentle, he leaned on your palm “You never miss a single big milestone of mine.” He repeated the same words he said back during graduation day, the day he promised your hand. “I feel like I crashed your dreams, ruined your life.”

“No,” Your brows knitted “No, Jay, don’t ever say that again.” Sincerity filled your eyes “You are my dream.”

A tear fell down Jay’s eyes, a quiet sniffle escaping him. You brought his head down on your shoulders and gently patted his back “Why are you crying?”

“I thought I lost you again, because of my stupidity.” He shook his head, clinging onto your waist as if you were a lifeline.

You took his hand in yours and brought it on your chest “Do you feel it?” You asked. Jay raised his head and stared at you with teary eyes. He concentrated on the palm on your chest and felt your heart beating fast.

“That’s the effect you have on me.” Jay looked like a lost child at your words “Still?”

“Then, still, always.” You nodded your head, your lips curling into a soft smile “What happened this morning, to both of us, it was the anger speaking.”

Jay gently held your hand and brought it to his lips, his knuckles brushing on your ring finger. “I want to focus on you more, to make up for all those years we’ve lost because of my job.”

“Will you let me?” He asked, his head tilting to the side “Yes.” You breathed out

“I’ll take care of you,” He brought you closer by your hand, your chest flush against each other “I’ll spoil you rotten.” He brushed your hair away, his breath hitting your skin, making you shiver “My dear wife.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, murmuring on his lips “I want to have a baby, Jay.” His brows shot up in surprise “You do?”

“Yes,” You caressed the back of his neck. “I want to be the mother of your children.”

“Damn love,” Jay let out a shaky breath. “You can’t say things like that without bearing the consequences.”

You bit your bottom lip, bringing him down to you “I’m ready to bear them.”

Jay took you in his arms in a swift movement, carrying you over his shoulder and spanking your ass “To the bedroom.”

⪩⪨

“Hey, love.” Jay sat down beside you by the porch of the holiday lake house, placing a mug of iced tea on the table.

“Thank you.” You thanked, taking it in your hand with a groan “I really miss coffee.”

“I know,” He smiled gently, caressing the swelling of your belly “But caffeine isn’t good for the baby, is it?”

“Dad! Can I sail the boat?” Your eldest daughter asked, pointing at the boat near the shore of the lake “Fine, but be careful!” Jay shouted so she could hear and you both watched as she sailed the little box you used to sail as well during high school summer break.

You smiled, recalling the old memory, and Jay did the same, watching your face as if you were the best view of all.

“Do I have something on my face?” You asked, feeling a little self-conscious “Beauty.” He winked at you and you nudged his shoulder playfully.

His eyes fell down on your belly once again, a warm expression displayed on his face “Thank you so much, Y/N.”

You frowned at his sudden thankfulness “For what?”

“For everything,” His voice was full of sincerity “For this baby, for our other daughter, for being by my side.”

“And thank you for loving me.” Jay added, once again kissing your ring finger, this time his lips lingering a little longer on your knuckles.

“Oh, Jay.” You let out a shaky breath “That’s very effortless.”

Your eyes then fell down on the necklace, the same one you gifted him for his fifteenth birthday. Your fingers unconsciously reached for it as you began playing with it “You still wear it?”

“I’ll take it in the grave with me.”

[⪩⪨] END.

THANK YOU FOR READING ! REBLOG (and like) AND LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS ON THIS!

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prael · 2 months ago

Text

Spectacle

Kinktember Day 11: Cuckquean

IVE Wonyoung and Liz x male reader smut

words: 6,118 Kinktember Masterlist

"I love you."

You love her too. That's a long-accepted fact, and you've told each other this a hundred times over. Sometimes it's casually told at the end of a phone call, sometimes it's in some romantic setting like when you're walking out on the promenade under the night sky, but in a way, these ones are the most honest.

It's a little bit special when those are the only words that come to her mind while she is cumming.

She's lying with her head against your neck, still shaking in pleasure. You would reply but you're so focused on grinding into her and you're so fucking close...

By this point, it's all become a little routine. Predictable, maybe. She gets home, you cook together, eat together, watch a film or TV show together, then one of you makes a move and... You get the picture. It's any old weekday.

So maybe this isn't what people would consider to be earth-shattering sex(fuck the critics) but she likes the feeling of your hips bucking and you spilling inside her. And you love the way she struggles for breath in between her moans before she does that same little squeal right before she cums.

These nights have all blurred a little into one. Tonight will become a little section on a page of many; a few lines that are not much more than a footnote.

Silence sets in once you untangle your limbs and lay beside her. Her head is pressed against your shoulder and the post-sex smell hangs in the air.

You look out your window over at the walled gardens on the other side of the river. It's as dull a sight to look at as always and there's hardly anyone out at this time but somehow you're content with looking at this view.

"So, do you think we should visit my dad sometime?" Liz asks out of the blue.

"I know I said I would think about it, but I was a little busy just now." You roll your head over to the side, sacrificing the river view for Liz's flush face. "What's this about?"

"Like I said, he's been asking." Her words trail off and she doesn't quite meet your eyes. She gives an awkward shrug of her bare shoulders, and then scoots over, snuggling up even closer. You give her back an appreciative squeeze.

"I can't do this weekend, busy remember? But we can go next week?"

Her hand stops circling your abdomen and she lifts her head from your shoulder to look at you. "Busy?" Her eyes dart around, searching your face for clues, but she just has to ask: "With?"

"My friend's birthday, I told you last week, and you said, and I quote, 'Okay babe, I'm meeting Wony this weekend anyway, have fun!'" You do your best-worst impression of her which earns you a jab of her fist in your side and a laugh.

"Oh... I'm always forgetting things."

"You work too hard." You cup her cheek and stretch your neck muscles to plant a kiss on her forehead. She coos and moves forward again, returning to her rightful spot snug on your shoulder. You slip your arm behind her back, and both of you lie there together in comfortable silence.

Liz moves her hand up from your stomach to your chest and starts circling her fingers over your skin. The touch is light and soft and very very deliberate.

"I have another question..." Liz eventually says, trailing off her sentence as though she's half lost in her own thought.

You bring your hand up to hers, hooking under her wandering finger and raising her hand, and then you lock your fingers between hers. "What is it? Something on your mind?"

"Am I good?"

"Good? Good person? Good cook? Good girlfriend? Good what?"

Liz laughs gently nuzzling into your body to hide her face and breathing hot breath over your skin. "Good... in bed."

"Oh thank god, I thought you were going to ask about your cooking and I'm not so great at the whole white lie thing."

She tries to punch you with the hand you're holding but you tighten your grip to stop her. "Not funny," she groans with a smile on her face.

She tries to turn her head into the pillow but you refuse to move or say anything until she looks at you. When she eventually peers up and matches your gaze you tell her, "You are the perfect girlfriend in every way," you tell her.

She exhales a short chuckle and raises an eyebrow. "Nice dodge," she tells you, unable to contain her laugh, and you laugh with her. "It's okay, I have a plan."

You pause, her words suddenly throwing you. "A plan for what?"

"You'll see."

She refuses to say anything more for the rest of the night, but she smiles at your puzzlement and laughs whenever you try to playfully nudge the subject. And you do notice that a slight smile seems to stick to her face all night, right up until she falls asleep.

***

Sunday evening transport is so hellishly unpredictable, so you're walking in the apartment door about an hour later than you planned, and about twice as stressed as you should be.

All of that washes away when you look at the girl who's been waiting for you to get home.

The scented (mostly melted) candles have been burning for a while and the smell of them fills the apartment. Not only has Liz picked out one of your favourite bottles of wine, but she's poured out a pair of glasses of it already, though they're both half-empty. And as you near it, the bottle is too.

"Hey, Liz."

"Finally! Welcome home," she says with a smile as broad as your confusion. "I've been waiting so long. So, so long." She's wearing a gown you don't recognise that's soft to touch when you hug her as she throws herself against you.

"Is this new?" you ask, touching at the silk hem.

"Of course it is," she answers quickly. "I was saving it, saving it until a special night. You know... Something special to break it out for."

She moves back in your arms, so she can have a better look at you, and she stares for just a few seconds before she leans back in, this time kissing you full on the lips. There's nothing soft about it. There's no hesitancy, and certainly no tenderness. This kiss is so firmly decided, so purposeful.

She purrs her words against your lips, "I've been giving it some thought, and, I know you would never say it, but I'm a little bit... vanilla, in the bedroom. And, I know, I know," she stops you with her fingers on your lips, shushing you with the tilt of her head and a flutter of her long lashes, "You wouldn't say anything because you love me too much and you're far too kind, but, this is for me too, okay? I want to be good, I want to try different things, exciting things, and this is the best way for me to learn."

"Liz. Liz. I've barely walked in the door and you're throwing this at me. I need a minute."

"No, don't think, we've been waiting so long for you already." Liz is pulling your arm toward the bedroom door. Her soft touch and your own burning curiosity have you willingly in tow.

"We?"

She's smiling the wildest of smiles over her shoulder as she pulls you along. Your heart beats a little harder in anticipation of what lies ahead, and even more at the look of sheer excitement and determination on her beautiful face.

You dropped your bag somewhere in the middle of the room but you hadn't even taken off your shoes before Liz is bundling you through the doorway.

"This is Wonyoung."

Why the fuck is there a girl in your bed?

"Wait. I know. It's weird right?" Liz sounds giddy, almost frantic. She bounces up to you and pulls on your arm until you stand right alongside her, peering down at the young woman in front of you. "You know Wonyoung, right?"

"Of course, I know one of your best friends, but why is she in our bed?" You turn and look at the girl lying there with a similar silk gown over her body, from her neck down to just below the knee. "Sorry, no offence, but I have no idea what's happening right now."

Wonyoung doesn't react but instead chooses that moment to rise. She is sitting with her hands folded on top of her legs. She tilts her head and examines you carefully, with an unmoving gaze that's almost more uncomfortable than the two of you hovering over her.

"It's fine." The deep smooth voice cuts through the silence like a hot knife. Her voice is as cool and calm as you expected, not that you're all that familiar with it, you have only met her a handful of times.

"Liz?" you ask, turning to her again.

"I want to watch. I'm going to watch," she blurts out her response before falling silent.

"What?"

Liz exhales softly, then draws in a steady breath, steeling herself, as her mouth curves in a trembling smile. "I was talking to Wonyoung, about... things. And, well, we were talking, and I guess maybe this idea just sort of popped into our heads. I couldn't just dismiss it. And I've had this fantasy. And well Wonyoung, it's been a while. And you, I want you to. And I can learn." Liz is talking far too quickly and doesn't finish a single sentence she starts.

"What she is trying to say," Wonyoung cuts in with her voice sharp and full of cold steel. "Is that we have come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"Arrangement." Liz chimes in with the correction.

"That I will," her eyes drift, flickering and moving over both of you, "join you both, for a while, in a few different ways. What Liz is trying to explain is that, well, to be frank, it's been a while for me and I would appreciate some good sex. As for Liz here... It just so happens she has a bit of a fantasy about this whole thing too."

"Yeah, exactly." Liz cups your cheeks and kisses you gently. "It's completely up to you, of course." Her hands rest at the back of your neck and she closes her eyes, resting her forehead against yours. "I love you."

Your hands are hanging idly by your waist. This woman sits on your bed and your girlfriend clings to you, asking you to fuck her.

"Okay." A single word while your heart is beating hard with anticipation. You reach to Liz's waist and pull her flush against you and plant your lips against her soft supple skin.

She giggles with delight and puts a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up. "So... We're really going to do this, huh?" Liz leans in, eyes flickering over your own as you exchange a final look. You feel her warm breath just a moment before the warm touch of her lips, pressing against yours, melting your resistance and hesitation, while sending warmth through you, easing you into acceptance, as the idea begins to cement itself in your thoughts.

There's a rustle of sheets as Wonyoung climbs up behind you and presses herself against you. "You're already late," she whispers behind you. "Don't make me wait any longer."

Liz leans away and her delicate fingers ease open your shirt, undoing each button in turn.

"Don't hold back. I want to see you give it to her." Liz takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Please, babe." Then she takes a step back, towards the chair that you're just now realising had been moved from the corner of the room so it had a close view of the bed.

Wonyoung pulls your shirt from behind, dragging it over your shoulders and down your arms. She follows the fabric down your back with a series of gentle kisses over your spine. The light tickle and feel of her hair drag over your skin, as she tugs the shirt free of your wrists.

"Liz..." You look over to your girlfriend who is staring with a grin on her face. Her eyes follow every single movement that Wonyoung makes as if studying them, examining them, processing them.

Wonyoung tugs the shirt free of your wrists and discards it. Her hands immediately reach over your chest and drag downward, making no secret of the way that her little breasts under the silk push firmly, and delightfully, up against your back.

Her nails drag over your skin until she hits the waist of your trousers. Delicate fingers, so precise in their movement, make quick work of the belt buckle, the button, and the zip. All without pausing, all without hesitation.

Under the dim light of the evening, Wonyoung pushes your trousers, and underwear, free from your hips. Down, over your ass, dragging them down your thighs. The cool air passes over your body, and you look to Liz for affirmation.

She smiles and she nods, waiting for what comes next.

Naked, and vulnerable, you're standing before her with another woman wrapped over you. Wonyoung reaches around you with both hands, she takes one confident grip of your still-limp length, and her other hand just a little lower onto your balls.

Liz's eyes light up at the sight.

"Not hard yet. Nervous?" Wonyoung's question is a tease. Her voice, velvet and silky, is whispered into your ear. The smell of her perfume is subtle, but the floral, womanly scent is unmistakable. She moves her hand in a light grip over the base of your cock and moves it slowly, methodically, and without the urgency you might've expected.

"Maybe..."

Wonyoung releases a silent giggle against the skin at the back of your neck. "Just wait..."

You look at Liz and her hands clamp tight over her knees as her breathing visibly hastens, matching your own. Her attention is fully, single-mindedly, upon you, with you, but there is no doubt about where her thoughts and her emotions lie. She's excited. In the comfort of seeing that, so are you.

"There we go," Wonyoung whispers. Her hands work leisurely over you. And yet in no time at all, you're rising in her grip. Stiffening. Aching for more. Your focus is on the sight of the only woman you have ever cared for, but the feeling of someone else's hand on your cock as you watch her is as strange as it is exciting.

She massages with both hands, always rhythmic, always steady. "Liz, do you like to suck cock?" Her question comes out smooth, and refined but pointed.

Liz glances up at you briefly, then down between her knees. She gives her answer as a nod, looking a little timid as her hands tighten their grip even more and her nails start to press into her knees. "I like the way his body reacts to my tongue." She glances up once more with a satisfied smile.

"That's good. And he likes it too?"

"Yes," you both say it at the same time.

You shiver as Wonyoung plants a long trail of delicate, wet kisses over your neck. She draws back her hand and leaves you there, cock stiff in the air. She walks around you slowly, finally that pretty face of hers coming into view. Her dark brown hair falls over her shoulders, the locks blending into the black silk of her gown.

She places both of her hands on your chest and stares right at you, no ounce of shyness or reserve as her piercing eyes dig deep, threatening to carve a hole clean through you.

"See something you like?" she asks. "Liz, if he is so hungry looking at me now, can you imagine what his expression is going to be like once my robe is off?"

Wonyoung rests the tip of her tongue on her lower lip, using it to moisten the pillowy soft, glossy surface. Her fingers rake down your chest as she drops elegantly, slowly to her knees and smiles up at you with those shiny red lips.

"May I?" she asks.

You take in the sight of her, kneeling before you, her lips so teasingly close to your tip that each of her soft breaths kisses it. A lustful, indecent twinkle in her eye.

You force a glance over to Liz, to which Winyoung immediately reacts, "I'm asking you, not her."

And all of the reasons to hesitate are just evaporating.

"May I suck your cock?" she repeats. She remains perfectly, unnervingly, poised on her knees.

"Yes. Suck my cock, Wonyoung."

Your breath catches. Your whole body shudders as she runs the warm, wet flat of her tongue up the underside of your hardness. Her gaze never falters. Wonyoung purses her lips, before lowering herself in her elegant descent, and letting her tongue slide around you as she sinks into the first of many bobs of her head.

Liz shuffles forward on the edge of her chair.

Wonyoung takes you deep, so deep, without so much of a gag or splutter. Her dark, doll-like eyes stare straight ahead, as she swallows your cock with her luscious lips and warm mouth. The warm and wet envelopes you so wholly that you can't stop yourself from hissing a groan of approval and you feel her mouth tighten its grip with a devious grin.

Liz squeezes her bare legs together.

Wonyoung braces herself on your hip, wrapping the other hand around your thigh as she rises and sinks back down again, again, again. Each time she gets a little quicker, a little stronger.

It's so different to when Liz does it. She's normally so playful with her tongue, and she doesn't take a lot of it inside her, but Wonyoung seems to have this sole fixation on drawing you deep into her. The very back of her throat greets your sensitive tip.

The muffled moans that roll from her throat vibrate around your shaft, and her tongue eagerly rolls all over your every inch. Her deep breaths get heavier, and her suckling becomes sloppy and wet. You're getting weak at the knees.

Wonyoung finally releases you with a short gasp and looks up at you with glassy eyes, "Fuck," she groans out before spitting over your shaft.

She clasps her hand over the head and grips you tightly, stroking up and down the length.

You don't dare to tear your gaze from the stunning, lewd woman staring up at you.

"Tastes... Mmm. So good, so good." Wonyoung whines her praise out between kisses and flicks of her tongue on your tip.

Your hands twitch and the instinct to sink your fingers into her hair is a near-unstoppable urge. You gently thread your fingers into her long, silken tresses, and gently grip them. She lets out a satisfied gasp and then says to Liz, "Look at that. See how much he wants me?"

Your gaze shoots over to Liz. Her eyes are transfixed, focused on Wonyoung's tongue, wrapped around the head of your cock. Her breath shudders, then slows.

You pull Wonyoung's head down while staring at your girlfriend. If she wants a show, you'll give her one.

A quiet sound escapes her, and then a sharper inhale, but still she shows no sign of objection. On the contrary, the pleased hum that emanates from her mouth drives you wild. It encourages you. You rock your hips forward, slamming past her lips and prodding against her throat. Your lust swells alongside your confidence.

"Good girl." You know how much Liz likes it when you're the dominant one, she often teases you in conversation about how it's hot when you tell her what to do and you notice her breathing become hitched when you whisper dirty things in her ears.

Wonyoung says nothing but moans her appreciation and rewards your command by relaxing her throat and letting you use her.

For a while you use her, over and over until you're right on the edge, Liz looks practically ready to jump out of the chair, and when you check on Wonyoung, her face is a mess. Tears streaking, saliva dripping. She's taken every last drop of this beating with nothing but an overwhelming desire to serve you.

She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue. The desperate submissiveness in her act brings you that step closer, "Cum, cum," she moans out between deep gulps of air. "Do it. Give it to me."

She's holding your cock in her fist and pumping it towards her face. With the first hot jet of cum, she cranes forward and takes it onto her eager tongue. She looks up at you as if urging you to keep going, to fill her pretty mouth.

Liz gasps audibly as you empty the contents of your balls into the sweet girl's waiting mouth. Wonyoung does nothing but accept what you're giving.

Your girlfriend just watched you blow a load into the mouth of her friend.

With each spurt into the soft, receptive touch of Wonyoung's inviting mouth, Liz squirms on her chair, her tongue playing on her lower lip.

"That's so hot," she strains to say through heavy breaths.

Wonyoung swallows all of it without instruction and then cleans you off in the same eager fashion that she sucked the load out of you.

"Hey Liz," Wonyoung croons in that smooth, velvety voice, while kissing along your thighs, her breathing quick and light on your damp skin. "You should have invited me sooner. I can think of a hundred ways to fuck this cock."

Wonyoung sweeps her damp hair from her face. She presses her forehead to your thigh, collecting herself. You can feel her taking deep breaths through her nose against the skin of your thigh.

"Show me."

At that, Wonyoung glances at Liz in genuine surprise.

"Show me all of those," Liz pauses, and takes a moment to collect her words. "All of those ways to fuck my man. Please show me."

"Okay, Liz, you just sit there and watch me fuck your man." Wonyoung's lips are sticky with your cum, glistening and tempting in the low light of the room, the remnants of your seed on her chin are even more provocative, as Wonyoung tilts her head and reveals a gorgeous neck and collarbone that draws your attention. "Well?" Wonyoung continues, extending her hand, "Help me up."

"Of course." You reach for her, eager and so, so ready. You pull her to her feet, and into a heated kiss, a little rougher than you should, but she doesn't mind. You lean down, slipping your hands around her thighs and then up to her ass, lifting her against your body.

Wonyoung squeals as you take three steps towards the bed, toss her over the edge, and then stand over her. Her gown has fallen open, framing her petite, naked body in the centre of your bed. It takes no time for her to move back, propping herself up on her elbows, and then giving her body a delicious stretch to emphasise her every feature. She sits there, spreading her legs, knees parted, showing you her bare, wet pussy, flushed and exposed.

"I want you over me so badly. Pushing my legs up over my head and fucking down into me. But not tonight. Tonight I'm going to show Liz how to ride a cock. Would you like that?" The lust in her dark eyes shines, not for you, not for Liz, but for the moment, the experience, the power that Wonyoung wields right now.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good." Wonyoung raises herself, rising to her knees to look up at you, leaving a lingering, open-mouthed kiss on your lips before peeling the gown off of her shoulders.

In a small, feminine pile, it gathers on the floor. Then she flaunts herself, not so much in an exhibitionist way, though she certainly has every right to, but more of someone who enjoys being admired. It's not just because her body is fucking stunning, but it sells such a sinful promise of how good it's going to feel to fuck, and she knows it.

You hold her waist for that simple purpose. Hands over her narrow body, soft skin and toned muscles underneath. For her part, Wonyoung extends one delicate arm so that she may brush her index finger over your jaw, just making that familiar, if chilling, grazing over your skin. You slide your hand down between her legs and press a single finger inside her.

"Mmm. Don't be afraid," she purrs.

You stroke her smoothly. Two fingers, twisting them, delving into her as her insides react, tightening, dampening around your teasing invasion.

"Already getting me so worked up, and poor Liz over there is being so well-behaved."

"Hey!" Liz laughs playfully. Her playful laughter trails off when Wonyoung's voice lowers, and the erotic, needy sound in her tone builds.

"Lie down, let me show her how it's done. Look at me. Watch me."

Immediately, you melt away. Back to the bed, to the cool feeling of the sheets under your skin. The quiet anticipation, and the expectation. With languid grace, and without her body ever seeming to interrupt its soft, almost perfect curvature, Wonyoung climbs over you. She places one knee on the bed, then the other. A hand on your chest, then the other. The weight of her, what little there is, pressing you down until the moist heat from her lips finds your cock.

She presses your length flat against your body, the lips of her pussy holding it in a long kiss that she gradually eases over your shaft. Grinding back and forth, you watch as your cock disappears under her as she comes forward, only to drag herself back down against it.

"Feel that?" Wonyoung pants quietly.

"Uh-huh," you hum.

"Feel that warmth, that slickness sliding around you. Imagine what it's going to feel like inside, hmm?" She coaxes a twitch out of you as you do exactly as she says.

Her tight abs roll into you, followed by the press of her thighs. Hot and clasping. Higher, her bare chest bears a pair of hard nipples on her little perky tits. Higher still, her face twists in expressions of pleasure, the delight in her shining eyes, the rapture etched across her face. Her lips tremble as something threatens to escape, whether a whine, moan, exasperated breath or a request for something, she never vocalises the sound and it remains nothing more than a sensual promise of a good time ahead.

Wonyoung slows to a stop and throws her head forward, putting her hands on your shoulders. You place yours at her legs, watching her close her eyes, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Feel how wet I am?" Wonyoung moves her hips in tight circles and she struggles to hold back her whimpers. Her warmth flows out of her and over you. "That's me, getting turned on at the thought of having this inside of me," she whispers. She rocks herself again, this time drawing out her whimper.

"God. Fuck..." You gasp and groan. You want this. Need it.

Wonyoung lifts and turns your cock until your head prods against her tight and needy pussy. She pauses to look to the side, her hair falling over her face but you can make out a grin, that very sly smile as she tilts her head towards your girlfriend, no doubt appreciating her breathless arousal.

"I'm going to ride your boyfriend's cock now. Cum all over his cock. Make him cum inside me. How does that feel?" Wonyoung moans softly, tipping her hips up, down, and over again, toying with the head. "Mmm, you like the sound of that, don't you?"

Liz is gripping the arms of her chair, not saying a thing. She just whines with agitation, kicks her feet out and stamps on the floor.

Then, Wonyoung gasps with relief. While your head was turned, Wonyoung surprised you by drawing the tip of your cock into her. You snap you're attention back to her as she settles around your cock. Where her throat was so accepting, her pussy is decisively not. It's so fucking tight that she struggles to take much of you in at first. Such small movements over the tip, tiny motions that rock her. And yet the sensation is something that could, and does, unravel you in an instant.

You're powerless to resist as she takes more and more of you into herself with each and every drive back down. Each little push, deeper inside, the further apart her thighs, and the deeper she descends, pushing herself, forcing herself, upon your cock.

You hold onto her ass, guiding her every bit of the way, rocking her rhythmically back and forth. Deeper, harder, tighter, she stretches, accommodating you until you reach as far as her tight walls will allow.

"You're gonna ruin this pussy." The sultry voice and the crude declaration cause another tremble out of you.

At that, she places both hands on either side of your head, palms flat on the sheet. Her pretty face is so close, just bobbing slightly as she fucks you. She pants heavily, her small, round breasts quiver and bounce up and down in front of your eyes.

She stays like that for a while, fucking herself on you, telling you all sorts of sweet nothings. "Gonna ride that thick cock. Love it so much, feel so fucking good." All the while, her perfectly tight ass is in your rough hands as you knead it and pull it wide.

Eventually, she throws herself back, breaking the intense stare, and making herself a spectacle again. She leans back, far back, her hand behind her for support, and gives both of you a show. Those slender thighs shake just enough to send you crazy each time she slaps them down against your waist. Her cute, shapely tits bouncing and jiggling.

"Fuck! Liz! You lucky girl! Mhm!" You're squeezing and palming her thighs roughly, fingers into flesh. Pulling her down hard, trying your damnedest to force her even tighter against you.

"Sfucking hot," A filthy compliment that is rewarded with another gasp of arousal and a short burst of bouncing as desperately fast as she can.

She slows to a crawl again. One leg moves off you, and then her hips swivel and the movement on your length is breathtaking. She's sideways on you now. One leg between yours, and the other stretched out over your body, her foot by your face.

Wonyoung is looking right at Liz now. "Watch me cum on your boyfriend's cock."

You're holding her by the leg she has over you, and you're using it as the leverage you need to buck into her while she works the lateral movement. The bed shakes and protests under your exertions. Wonyoung pulls her hands behind her neck, scooping up her hair and holding it up, so every inch of her body can be seen.

"Look. Look, Liz." Wonyoung lets out a guttural moan. A throaty, visceral noise of climax catching you off guard. You keep rolling your hips, taking in the way her body tenses and tightens and she trembles all over. "Cumming. On your. Boyfriend." She barely gets the words out as her head falls backwards and you can't take your eyes off of her, or the way she spasms on your lap.

She struggles to keep up the pace and rhythm but still tries her best, her resolve amid an orgasm is worthy of respect. You move her, this time, hands on her waist and twisting her so she faces away from you. She allows you and gasps in delight the moment you reposition her, her hands reaching for your thighs.

You continue the thrusts, with Wonyoung content now to take the punishment. You fuck her in a steady, thumping motion, the slap of skin against skin loud and ringing in the air. Her ass is marked red, compliments of the tight squeeze you had on it earlier. Her taut little cheeks bounce and shake each time you slam into her. Her own whiny moans and squeals mix and add a new melody to the atmosphere.

Wonyoung is nothing but moans now, one orgasm just cascaded into the next, and she shows no signs of stopping. Every now and then her sounds break through, becoming cries. Each time they do, you follow it up with a series of rapid slapping of hips. It's all you can do, just to keep yourself going, chasing that elusive climax that the three of you so desperately want.

Liz is fucking losing it. She's squeezing her thighs together. Grinding. Dancing in her chair. Her fingers, her knuckles, are white with strain as she holds onto the chair for dear life. She's making squeals and gasping moans too—she wants to cum so bad. It is as though her pussy is squeezing on nothing, you can imagine just how needy and wet she is. How painful it must feel, not being able to have that satisfaction that you can give Wonyoung.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Wonyoung wails out her climax with such intensity that it actually leaves her voice a little hoarse and you can't hold it anymore, you have to follow her lead. You have to cum.

So you do.

Wonyoung drags her nails across the skin of your legs as you reach that tipping point and pump a thick stream of semen into her. There is more and more, and she takes it all greedily as if there's no limit. As if she'll never be satisfied.

You let it all out, pump her full of hot, thick, semen. The release is enough that, for a while, you blank out the world. Nothing matters but the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.

Consciousness returns with you lying limp on the bed. Your head rolls to one side and you struggle to stay focused. You gaze down past your feet where Wonyoung lies collapsed, the exact same way as yourself. Still, you watch, and try to keep focus, and you do because when Wonyoung awakes she lifts her head, a sheen of perspiration glistening and flowing in droplets from her dark, silky hair and down her face, streaking her skin and flowing over her red cheeks and flushed lips.

The combination of both exhaustion and arousal as Wonyoung catches her breath causes a wonderful sight before she meets your own exhausted gaze and that smile of hers, all pearly white and perfect and so damn alluring.

"Fuck! I have to! Fuck!" Liz is rampant now, her hand reaches in between her own legs and then her legs are spread apart and you can see her furiously fingering her own pussy, the motion of her whole arm trembling and shaking. Her pussy is wet, and gleaming. And the fingers in it move and dive deeply. "That was the hottest fucking thing... I need to... Cum..."

Wonyoung supports the side of her face up with her fist, a grin on her features as she watches the way Liz acts like she's going insane, out of her mind, she just needs the cum in the worst way, the urgency apparent from the way her fingers disappear, pumping into herself.

Wonyoung starts crawling up you, to rest on you, while transfixed on your girlfriend pumping herself into oblivion. "Oh, Liz, that is beautiful," her eyes light up as she comments, "Now imagine the feel of it... His cum leaking out of me right now. Because he fucked me and not you."

That's what sends Liz spiralling over the edge.

Liz's body twists, writhes, shudders and convulses in orgasm. It's almost hypnotic, her thighs squeeze together so hard that her hand must hurt, but she just goes on and on and on, never easing, and it leaves a hot, sticky mess all over the chair and her fingers. You watch as she rides those waves of blissful gratification, all over a set of digits that aren't nearly enough to satisfy, not even for a moment.

Wonyoung brings her lips close to your face, hot breath washes over you, and she whispers quietly into your ear, "She's going to want this again, you know? Look at her, you even seen her cum that hard?"

"No, I haven't."

"Then me and you? We're going to be having a lot of sex."

#kinktember #kpop smut #Liz smut #Wonyoung smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #m reader #smut #Wonyoung x reader #IVE smut #Liz x Reader #Cuckquean

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r-eatyourfriends-n · 4 months ago

Text

Collide | l.hs 이희승 | pt. 1

best friend!heesung x best friend!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), pwp (plot's there if you look hard enough), unprotected sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation (sort of?), nipple play, heesung is cocky but only for a bit, no use of "y/n". It got sort of fluffy at the end?

synopsis: you've been having hookups for a while, but none of them have been memorable, much less good, so heesung decided you change that. Although his intentions might not be 100% pure.

wc: 5k.

a/n: this is by far not my first smut (it's literally all I write lol) but I've never posted for the enhypen fandom although I've been delusional about heesung and jake for a good while now. I have decided to break my silence. pls let me know if there are any mistakes and for sure let me know if you liked it! I actually quite enjoyed writing this as I began working on part two as soon as I finished. Also English is not my first language, I'm certain I revised this enough to avoid any grammar mistakes but thought I'd give y'all the heads up.

You arrived at Heesung's apartment late that night, just like you had warned him that you would. Given that your last date's place was near Heesung's, he had offered you to come over after your night out so that you didn't have to take a cab home. He said he'd be up playing anyway since it was a Friday night.

When you knocked, he had stood by his word. It took a few knocks and missed calls but eventually, the door opened, showing Heesung in a plain white tshirt and grey sweatpants. He welcomed you with a gentle smile, quiet as the noise rang through his headset. You nodded at him in acknowledgement and he took a step to the side to let you in.

As usual, you left your things on the couch. You signaled towards his bathroom and he nodded again, then left you alone to finish his game. You took a towel from his closet and one of his longer shirts and headed to the shower, head hanging low, letting the water run down your body when you stepped in, standing still under it, eyes closed.

Your date had been a mess.

The guy was nice; he held up to the bare minimum requirements of kindness and politeness, he payed for the bill even when you insisted for him to at least let you split it. Then he held your arm and guided you to his car like a true gentleman, where he took you to his house, layed you on his bed, and gave you the most boring, cunt-drying head and sex of your life. It felt criminal, really, that a man so handsome and well put together was such a boring and dull fuck. But there he had been, dirty blond hair parted to the side, stuck to his forehead as he sweat and heaved like a fucking pig white fucking into you, paying no mind to what you were feeling, only chasing his high.

Heesung, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when you stepped inside. Nor could he stop thinking about the marks that he hoped to god would be gone by morning, or your messy hair and out of place clothes, and the fact that you were willing to pull through with the plan of going to his apartment instead of staying with the guy. He picked you up, fucked you poorly (most likely), and couldn't even drive you somewhere else?

Ever since you became confident enough to put yourself out there, you've had quire the few hookups, which was unsurprising to Heesung. You were pretty, charming, and kind, and he saw those things every day. However, heesung wasn't stupid. He knew that at the end of the day, there was a good reason as to why men overall didn't have a good reputation during sex. And Heesung was someone who would love to show you a good time, but he didn't want to lose you over it.

He dreamed of it. Fantasized about it so many times— about all the ways in which he would fuck you, so good that no one else could even compare. To have you come back to him each time you even so much as think about trying to sleep with some other guy that isn't him. He'd give you the slow, teasing version of it first, taking his sweet time with each and every inch of skin until you were shaking just from the mere anticipation of feeling his cock push in, dragging out the pleasure in slow waves, praising you for enduring such intense feelings. Make you feel so good you'd cry.

If you wanted, Heesung could be rough, too. Bend you over every single piece of furniture of his apartment and yours. In his car as well, he would be lying if he said he never imagined putting you on your hands and knees on the backseat of his car whenever he picked you up from a party; have claw at the leather and leave your mark on it. Park somewhere dark and let you ride him on the driver's seat.

To be quite frank, it drove him crazy; to know that you were in his bathroom— naked in his house, and he couldn't just walk in and press you against the wall, ready to hold your weight when your knees begin to shake and buckle.

Heesung shook his thoughts away, going back to his game and trying to act normal. He unmuted himself to yell at Jake and Yeonjun, who were performing even worse than him. As they went quiet again, he heard the water stop and the bathroom door open. Your reflection appeared on his second monitor, your hair in somewhat of a low ponytail over your shoulder with a few strands on the front. Some parts of your body were clearly still damp, and his shirt stuck where there were still drops of water gathering on your skin. Heesung licked his lips, desperate to end the game and go to you, who layed comfortably on his bed, scrolling through your phone with a cold expression.

You sighed while you stared holes into Heesung's stiff back and shoulders. You showed up to his apartment knowing that he was going to be gaming with his friends, but a part of you still hoped that he would've dropped everything for like he had done sometimes, especially since today had been particularly frustrating. Still, you waited for him, just rather impatiently.

He didn't bother to say goodbye to his boys, he only turned off his computer and took his headphones off, rubbing at his red and sore ears. He turned on his chair and smiled.

“I'm done.”

“Did you win?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Heesung shook his head. “I wasn't focusing.” He shrugged. “How bad was it?"

“How'd you know it was bad?"

“You're here, aren't you?” He chuckled.

Your shoulders dropped in defeat, quietly admitting your best friend was right. Heesung's eyes softened, displaying pity as your hands came up to rub your face, leaving a red trail of pure frustration.

“He was so handsome and sweet,” You groaned into your palms. “But he barely even kissed me, or touched me.”

He gritted his teeth, eyes landing on the small, purplish spots on your neck. “You're all marked up though,” he said, trying not to let his jealousy seep into his words.

“I practically had to beg him to do anything,” you admitted, embarassed that those words even came out of your mouth.

Begged?, Heesung thought, you had to beg a random guy to do what he had been dying to do to you? He scratched at the back of his neck.

“I don't know where you keep finding these scumbags.” He stood up, walking towards the bed to sit next to you.

“Maybe they're all scumbags and I should give up, because I didn't even get to finish.”

Heesung pressed his lips together, making a thin line. He tried to think about what to say next, but words were out of his mouth before he could consider all outcomes.

“Do you still want to?”

“Want to what?” you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Come,” he responded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you still want to come?”

Heat crept up your cheeks, your body beggining to deter from his gaze. Neither of you had ever been shy about discussing sex, or each other's sex lives—though he was much more reserved about it than you were—, but something in the atmosphere made you nervous. Something in his tone as the words came out of his mouth, something about heesung saying those words to you.

You huffed. “Well, who doesn't, right?”

His pupils were blown out in an instant. “Then let me help you.”

“Help me what?” you rolled your eyes at him, exasperated. Although he wasn't being as cryptic as you perceived him, you were just in a bad mood.

Heesung just shrugged. “Come,” he repeated, leaning closer to you. “Let me make you come.”

The whole world stopped for you, or at least that's what it felt like. Your face contorted, a thousand thoughts rushing through your mind.

Yes, it was your best friend, who you barely recognized at the moment. But you would be lying if you said his words didn't have an effect on you, his offer making you shiver. Still, you had some level of skepticism because again, he was your best friend.

“Stop playing, I'm not in the mood.” Was all you managed to push out, not feeling like being teased.

Unable to back down now —or not wanting to—, heesung took a deep breath.

“Do I look like I'm playing?”

You turn to face him, and looked for a hint, or even such as a glimpse of him being the teasing asshole that he had always been, however, he never faltered. If anything, he seemed impatient for an answer.

“I think you deserve to know what a good night feels like,” He continued.

“You think you're good?” You scoffed mockingly, already feeling your body heating up at his promises. A good night? Yes, you were in desperate need of one of those. It was nothing Heesung wasn't already aware of.

“I know I am,” he smirked.

His confidence set off something inside of you. If it turned out that he was all talk, then, you'll be damned, because god, did he know how to talk. Not only using his words, but also his whole body, as he leaned foward to press his face closer to yours. Had he always been like this or were you just noticing?

For the time you had known Heesung, you never knew him for one to sleep and mess around. He was a flirt, sure, he loved to lean in during parties to make the women around him flustered. More often than not, he would brush past them with a hand on their waist and watched as they blushed, but despite his good looks and undeniable charisma, you've never heard about him constantly hooking up, nor doing it often like you did.

Regardless, wether it was seldom or not, Heesung fucked. It was a fact, even if it seemed like he was too busy gaming and working, he had managed to fit some fun time in his packed schedule of work hours and consoles. You couldn't deny you've heard about him, given that he had unknowingly slept with two of your coworkers. It wasn't something you told him, and until this very day, he was still unaware of the fact.

But you were very aware of what had been said about him, because you heard them discuss in great detail about how good the sex had been. They had talked about everything, from the size of his cock to how he knew how to eat out a woman—and how good he looked doing it—, how many times they came and what not. It had been weird to hear about how good your best friend was in bed, but you still grew curious, dying to know if the rumours were true, and if he was the well built roman sex god they made him out to be.

He was your best friend, yes (how many times had you said it already?). Still, you weren't blind nor stupid, you could see how gorgeous he was, how hot he looked, having been flustered by him one too many times. Certain feelings harvested in you that you had pushed to the side, thinking that you would bully them away by telling yourself than a friend who just so happened to be stupidly handsome. And you had managed quite well, that until today, with Heesung infront of you, willing to give you what you wanted.

Would the sex outweigh any possible bad outcomes that may come from hooking up with the person you trust the most? Only time would tell.

“Okay,” you whispered, feeling shy under his impatient gaze.

He reached out his hand, softly cupping your chin. His thumb caressed your jawline.

“I'll be gentle.”

Your brows furrowed. “I'm not a virgin, Heesung.”

“Do you need to be a virgin for that?” He laughed, dumbfounded by your words. “Just lay back and let me make you feel good.”

Promises, promises, promises. “Are you all talk or do I have to beg you too?”

Heesung smirked. “Don't give me ideas.”

Any hesitation any of you might have still had vanished the minute your lips pressed together. Heesung moved slowly, almost forcing you to follow his lead and you obliged, sighing into the kiss. You held his nape to pull him closer, it was the only thing he let you do. He allowed you to guide him on top of you, and you spread your legs so that he could settle himself between them to kiss you deeper.

His tongue pushed against yours without a warning and you whimpered. Just the kissing had your heart threatening to shoot a hole into your chest from the inside out. Heesung had inviting lips for sure, but god, did he know how to use them.

You were desperate to have him touch you but still whined and protested when his mouth began to make its way down, stopping by your neck first, biting just below your jawline. Your hands trembled, trying to find something to hold on to until you figured the best thing to sink your nails into were his shoulders.

Heesung loved it, to know his skin would welcome anything your body gave. So mesmerized by the way you reacted to his touches, so receptive and sensitive to him. He couldn't believe it yet, that he had you on his bed, kissing you breathless.

Your back arched into him when he sucked on the skin, making sure to leave more visibly, longer lasting marks over the ones you already had. He watched as your skin became stained with a darker purple, his cock throbbing at the sight; at the thought of seeing you on his clothes, your body littered in his marks.

He raised your shirt over your breasts. You reached for the hem of the shirt to pull it over your head to give him more space to do what he wanted more comfortably. He stopped you immediately, though.

“I wanna fuck you in my shirt,” he confessed, trying not to show his desperation.

His words almost were enough to make you moan, and you realised you weren't turned off by the idea of being owned in some way, especially if it was Heesung who did. Or perhaps you were just incredibly horny, and he had started to play with one of your nipples between his fingers, the other one going into his mouth.

With your hand gripping his head tightly, you pushed him towards your chest. He swirled his tongue around the bud in acknowledgement of your actions, which made you buck your hips up in an attempt to get some sort of friction. You could feel your panties sticking to your skin, was it normal to be this wet just from kissing?

It was probably how it should have been with your date, or with any of the other guys you had slept with. But only you had managed to get yourself to that state, alone in your room with your fingers, and now Heesung with his skilled mouth licking and swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples, his hips pressed against your cunt to keep you from squirming or pressing your legs together. You took the opportunity to grind yourself against him, feeling the outline of his already hard cock on your shorts. The whine he let out was long and needy.

“Heesung,” you moaned, nudging at his shoulder to push him away. “More.”

Heesung's knees buckled at your pleads.

“Beg a little more, baby.” He instructed. He pressed a soft kiss between your breasts, where a drop of sweat had begun to roll down. “Say my name again.”

Heesung found himself hypnotized by the way you moaned out his name. The way you tried to shove him down to get him to go between your legs just made him want to tease you more.

“heesung please, please, fuck—,” you babbled. “God, stop teasing me.”

“No god here, just me,” Heesung smirked at you.

Thankfully, what you said had been enough. He made his way down slowly, ghosting his hands over your waist as he directed his kisses from your abdomen until his lips met the hem of your shorts. He pushed them to the side and stared at your white panties now turned transparent from the wetness. And he almost couldn't believe it was for him. A bunch of thoughts passed through his mind that he didn't dare to voice; how he had wanted this for so long, how he was hoping you would come to your senses and realize how much better he was than all the other guys you had gone out with. How he hoped this would absolutely ruin you, and make you feel like you will never find something out there that could compete. The thought of this possibly being a one time thing, and that you could run off to some other douchebag was nauseating.

He offered himself up expecting that, by the end of the night, he'll own you.

It wasn't something that he wanted to keep thinking about. All he wanted was to hear more of your pretty sounds. You gasped when he yanked down your shorts, leaving on your underwear just to mess with you and make you desperate for him. He glided his thumb over your cunt, occasionally putting pressure on your clit but never quite staying there. Your legs and hips twitched, your pathetic attempt to guide his finger. Loud moans and whines kept pouring from your lips as you tried to get him where you wanted.

“Have any of those assholes ever gone down on you?” he asked, sort of absent.

Had they? You weren't really sure. Sometimes they would kiss between your legs, a few licks here and there before they pushed their cock in, but never like what your friends have told you it was like. Jealousy burbled in your stomach whenever you heard them talk about it— the unimaginable pleasure, the look on the man's face he ate them out like his life depended on it. You have had a glimpse, a very bad one, but you had almost felt what it was like. However, at the end of the day, it was mostly you on your knees with your mouth stuffed.

Ultimately, you decided to tell him exactly that. “Yeah, but not really. It's usually me who does.”

Heesung clicked his tongue, completely displeased by your answer. It pissed him off, sort of, at least enough to pull your panties down and finally beginning to live up to his promise. He flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit, to which your body immediately reacted, forcing a whimper out of you.

His hands forced your legs open as far as they would go, taking full control, leaving you defenseless under his relentless mouth and tongue. Same tongue he pushed inside you, thrusting it into your hole, feeling you squeeze him. The way your walls tightened around his tongue turned him impatient, dying to get that same feeling on his cock. But you were his priority right now, and he would have time to feel you soon enough.

The orgasm that you had been longing for since you accepted your date felt closer than ever, with heesung's nose hitting your clit, and his tongue moving inside you. He then reached up to suck on your clit that kept getting more and more swollen the more his lips would close around it, rolling his tongue over it. As he kept playing with it, he teased his finger on your entrance, gathering your slick on it and sliding it in with little to no effort, your body welcoming him instantly. He found himself stretching you further in no time, slowly pushing in a second finger and curling both of them.

“Feel good baby?” he mumbled. It was uncommon for him to ask those types of questions, since he would rather have girls show him. But from you, he wanted to hear it, he needed to hear it.

The question almost sounded stupid in your ears.

“So fucking good,” you breathed out. “So fucking close.”

All of the rumours were true, and Heesung absolutely looked hot pleasuring a woman, smiling to himself, looking drunk and fucked out just from it, his only goal to have you finish thanks to him. He was good, exactly like he said he was, making your eyes roll back, a thing you had only thought possible in porn, and just by using his mouth. And he still had yet to fuck you.

The pace of his fingers and tongue quickened, your moans got louder along with it. Edging you was something he considered, feeling you so close, having the power to just stop all at once and leave you hanging.

Your orgasm came crashing down on you before he could make a decision, and fuck if it wasn't one of the hottest things he had ever witnessed; how your back arched and your feet lift off of the bed as the highest peak of pleasure you had ever felt invaded your body in waves, body convulsing onto his hand in time with the loud, borderline screams of his name. It had gotten to the point you had to kick at his shoulders for him to pull away, sensations quickly turning painful.

If that's how you were gonna feel on his cock, he was certain that he was not going to last long.

“Shit, Heesung, that was—”

"I'm not done with you, sweetheart,” he interrupted. “I barely just started.” He chuckled, begging to pull down his sweatpants, revealing the wet patch of precum on his underwear. “Look what you did to me.”

Your eyes never stopped following his hands as he hooked his fingers om his boxers to finally free his cock from being smothered by the fabric, standing proudly against his abdomen, heavy. Something in your stomach fluttered with a twisted exciment of what was about to happen, especially when he wrapped his hand around it to stroke it slowly, almost teasing himself.

And you let him, watching him try to relieve himself; his mouth open, panting, so focused on aliviating his arousal that he almost forgot you were there. That until both of your eyes met, the atmosphere in the room getting heavier by the minute

Heesung stopped moving his hand. “Come spit on it, baby,” he instructed. “Get it ready.”

A breath got stuck in your throat at his words. That hadn't been the nastiest thing you heard, you had been said and called way worse. But the way he look and sounded while he made his request, knelt in front of you, hair out of place and lips dark pink and glossy from eating you out made him look and sound so utterly dirty, so much so that your body reacted way before you did, already crawling to him before he could finish that sentence fully.

You looked straight into his eyes as you opened your moth, a long string of saliva falling from your tongue in slow motion until it met the head of his cock. He looked right back at you as he spread it across his length. Heesung muttered curse after curse as you laid back down, and was quick to settle himself between your legs once more.

His tip pressed against your entrance, and you felt the stretch almost immediately, hissing and putting your hand on stomach as a reflex. He held your wrist gently, used his grip to pull your hand up to his face, pressing a soft kiss on your palm. His eyes fluttered shut as your warm skin came into contact with his lips. And when you moved to cup his cheek, he leaned into the touch instantly. You began to tease his bottom lip, running your thumb over it, and as he sunk himself even further, he caught it between his teeth, gently grazing them against your semilong nails, until he finally closed his mouth around it. He hummed.

It took Heesung a while to bottom out inside you, and you moaned and whined all the way through it; from the pain of being stretched open and from the pleasure of being stretched open. He moaned as well, as his hips met your pelvis, with your walls fluttering around his cock. His thoughts were going at a thousand miles, all of them screaming at him to really, really fuck you into the mattress. But he stayed put for the sake of your enjoyment, he had promised you a good night and he was going to drag it out as much as he could for your and his enjoyment.

Still with your thumb between his lips, he began to slowly move his hips, barely pulling out before pushing back in to get you used to his girth. You gripped his bicep with your free hand, scratching down on his skin until the sting started to dissipate. You took notice of the way he held his breath as the speed began to increase, moaning and groaning when you squeezed him in.

It was dizzying, how you felt him everywhere. In your hand, with his moans vibrating on your palm; inside you as he dragged his cock, barely managing to pull out an inch before diving back in, pressing himself against you as much as he could so that he was fully settled inside your walls. Due to his cocky attitude, you didn't take him for the type of guy to be vocal. But there he was, whining louder and louder, almost uncontrollably, and that only turned you on more. The fact that you, too, were making him feel good and he was not afraid to show it.

You weren't usually this pliant and submissive, preferring to put up a little bit of a fight, managing to make guys submit to you instead as you took the lead. With Heesung, though, it was different, whether it was because was mesmerizing or because you had never felt such heightened pleasure, it was clear that he had control from the moment he got closer to you before he made his offer. And you could take control, probably, but you didn't want to. You wanted Heesung to do the work, to prove himself.

Which he was, taking on a pleasurable rhythm that had you moaning louder than him. One of his hands found the plush of your hips and gripped onto it for leverage to angle himself. The other one traveled from your chest all the way down to your clit, rubbing messy circles with his thumb, making you throw your head back into the pillows, along with a cry of his name.

The echo of his skin hitting against yours fueled him. Heesung didn't know where he should be looking at, if at your beautifully contorted face, with your eyes closed shut and your lips parted, or down, to where a white ring of your slick began to sorround the base of his cock each time he pulled out, noises growing increasingly wetter.

“You're driving me fucking insane,” he grunted.

There was no response from you, only whines of pleasure as you neared your second release. His thumb circled faster, not too hard, but enough to send all of your senses into overdrive, encouraging you to reach your climax, dying to know if you'd feel as good on his cock as you did on his fingers. And although he was dying to kiss you, he held back his urges just to see your face as you came, with your legs closing around his waist, your body slightly convulsing off the bed. It was nothing short of delightful.

You attempted to catch your breath, but heesung didn't give you time to process your intense orgasm as he flipped you onto your stomach. He pressed your cheek into the mattress and accommodated your lower half as he pleased. You were barely able to hold your ass up in the air for him, your knees weak as he entered you again. Only then did you register that you had come twice already, but had yet to see or feel a single drop from him.

“You are fucking insane,” you groaned, teary eyed.

He chuckled, movements coming to a halt. “I made you come twice and you still complain? Tsk. Greedy.” He dug his nails into your hips, making you wince. “Sorry you're tired, but it's my turn now.”

With that, his thrusts resumed, opting for a quicker, rougher pace than before, clearly turning a bit more selfish and now after his own release. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, making you press yourself back onto him to meet him halfway, chasing the sensation despite the pang of pain from having orgasmed so recently.

Heesung leaned down to bite onto your shoulder, in the pace where his tshirt wouldn't cover, making sure to engrave his teeth into your skin, hoping the next man you tried to sleep with would be turned off by the markings. He let go when you complained, kissing and licking onto it instead, whispering more soft apologies, although both of you knew that he wasn't sorry at all.

After a while his thrusts became more erratic, losing any pacing he tried to maintain. The grip on your hips was bruising, but you thought you wouldn't have it any other way.

“Touch yourself for me,” he commanded in between his moans.

You reached down between your body and the matress, struggling to reach your clit as Heesung's thrusts moved and pressed you against the sheets. Your motions were slow and light despite the harsh snapping of heesung's hips, slowly building up the pressure in your lower stomach until any discomfort you felt was gone, your fingers now matching his speed, mindless of the way your cunt tightened around him almost painfully.

He didn't stop nor slow down, not even as he came. Loud moans spilled from his lips, attempting to drag out his release as much as he could. And you followed soon after, body giving out under heesung to lay flat onto the bed, breathing heavily. He spread your legs carefully to not miss the way his cum oozed out of you, dripping down onto your folds. You turned your head back as best as you could, and through the mess of hair on your face, you still caught the way he smiled to himself as he watched.

“This is video worthy,” Heesung murmured, dragging his fingers up your cunt to fuck his cum back into you. “You're gonna make me hard again.”

You squirmed away from him, kicking at his sides. “Stop it,” you whined, then whined again as he pulled his fingers out languidly, the sight so painfully naughty it almost made you ask him to fuck you again. However, you were too tired to even hold yourself up.

Heesung's whole demeanour changed, and he was back to being just him; playful and soft spoken. “Sorry,” he chuckled, the only time it sounded like he actually meant it. He hovered over you, moving your hair to place gentle kisses on the nape of your neck.

It made you sigh, muscles finally relaxing, and your hearbeat now back to normal. Or sort of normal.

For the sake of the moment, you tried not to think about anything; about the fact that you just had the most intense and amazing sex with your best friend, no other. And you had to admit that you were kind of sad about the fact that it was over, and that it was probably gonna be a one time thing to protect the friendship. So you allowed yourself to be held by him, pushing any and all thoughts to the back of your mind.

“You're beautiful, you know?” he whispered against your skin.

He was making it way too hard.

“Not so bad yourself,” you mumbled jokingly. Heesung was fucking beautiful, too. “M'gonna fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“Sleep, then,” he smiled.

“Thank you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“The dick, and the kisses.”

Heesung couldn't help but laugh, a loud but oddly comforting sound as you began to drift off.

“Anytime.”

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