#and so help me God if I end up being awake for most of this road trip I will riot

[mejaemin]

booseoksoon vday hcs ♡

day four of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 1.3k on the dot (>ᴗ•)

summary: booseoksoon and how you spent vday with them !!! (individually)

warnings: fluff, loooots of love, shy seokmin, brief mention of showering tgt in soon’s, latte cameo !!!

an: this seems late to the teleparty celebration but it’s not !!! i started this as soon as it came out, i just had to wait for the event 😓😓 im so sorry hoshi’s is sm shorter than the rest but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy !!! happy advance vday !!!

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

boo seungkwan ♡

he said the night before that he would pick you up to celebrate, however what you didn’t expect was to wake up to his kisses, a hand on your head rubbing back and forth to wake you up

when your eyes open, he gets shy and heads toward the bedroom door with a ‘hurry up, i didn’t spend so much time for your food to get cold..’

once you get up you find the dining table with a velvet box and love letter, in the middle a heart shaped box with your favorite candies in it. sitting in cute heart shaped plates is the most beautifully plated breakfast, full of your favorite foods

the morning is so sweet, full of love and childish bickering as you exchange gifts and take photos in your sleepy states

seungkwan’s face is still very puffy with sleep, and he’s still got that tired look even though he’s been awake longer than you. he didn’t tell you but he definitely did wake up early to drive here and lay all your gifts out and cook breakfast, making sure you would wake up to nothing but the best. his hair is a little wet from the water he used to fix his beadhead, knowing better than to leave it the second he saw you raise your phone camera. regardless, he’s still not off the hook being that he’s basically nodding off at the table. you snap another photo before lowering your phone, reaching out for his hand and calling his name gently.

he reopens his eyes, lowering the fork from his mouth (he was holding it there in his half asleep state) before looking up at you. “god, don’t tell me you’re taking more photos. i’ll take all this back right now.”

you laugh, “you wouldn’t do that to me.. besides, don’t you want your gift?”

it’s then that he finally appears fully awake, sitting up expectantly. you laugh, reaching forward to pinch his cheek before going to fetch his gift. when you come back he’s cleared the table except for your gifts, and happily takes his from your hands. after a mutual agreement to open your gifts at the same time, you go ahead and open yours to reveal a beautiful set of jewelry. paired with it is a love letter, full of sweet words complimenting you and helping express seungkwan’s love for you, along with a few innuendos that you choose to ignore until later in the day. you look up to watch him open his, and he’s beaming brighter than the sun upon pulling out tickets for a trip back to jeju out of his present box.

lee seokmin ♡

seokmin was too scared to see your reaction to his heartfelt messages, ones that he waited until you were sleeping to write

thus, he made a point to wake up before you did and head out with the excuse of getting breakfast

you would know how shy he’ll get when he watches you open all his gifts, so he simply chooses to send a text message to you while he’s gone

‘good morning, sweetpea (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) happy valentine’s day! i’ve left a few gifts out on the table while i get breakfast, feel free to open them while i’m out ♡’

when you wake up on valentine’s day, you expect to feel your boyfriend lying beside you. reaching your arm out for his body, not feeling it against your own, you end up hitting cold bedsheets. immediately snapping your eyes open, you sit up against the headboard and look around. the room is empty, and when you look at his nightstand his phone is gone. grabbing yours, you open it to immediately call him when you’re met with his message. finally relaxing, you decide it’s enough sleep and get out of bed to make your way to the kitchen.

on the table there’s a gift basket, holding a plushie of a dog that’s eerily similar to your boyfriend along with heart shaped candies and a letter. underneath it is a heart patterned doily with rose petals scattered all over the table. with a smile you sit down, not forgetting to respond to his text before opening the folded piece of paper. you know very well that he’s shy about things like this, which is likely why he avoided being here when you looked at his gifts, too anxious to sit there and watch your reaction.

popping a piece of candy into your mouth, you read seokmin’s letter and it’s nothing short of what you expected. he always downplays his gifts, saying they’re nothing special, but his words always manage to touch your heart more than they did the year before. he really knows how to make your heart flutter, if it wasn’t evident by this already being your second valentine’s day together.

finally he comes in the front door, holding a bag from your favorite bakery and another from a breakfast place. he sets them down on the dinner table, pulling you in for a hug and a kiss before sitting down across from you.

“did you like your gifts…?” he asks shyly, cheeks already pink.

you take his hand, kissing his knuckles similarly to how he would to you. “of course, seokkie. they’re so cute, i’m so happy.”

you can see the way he lets out a breath of relief, and you laugh as he finally relaxes and tells you how he was yet again scared that it would disappoint you. just like last year, you remind him that you’d be happy even if he got you nothing, and his gifts will never not make you happy.

kwon soonyoung ♡

soonyoung’s probably the only one who would stay in bed with you in the morning, selfishly choosing to spend it how he likes.. next to you, even though it’s a win for both sides

he’d wake up with you, showering with you (it was his only request for the day) and getting ready to spend the holiday together

you’d have a light breakfast, packing up all the stuff to have a picnic together!

on the way you’d pick up latte from his family’s home and head out to enjoy the day with your two favorites <3

the blanket underneath you is covered in dirt once again as latte brings her toy back to it, having came from the bushes after soonyoung “accidentally threw it in there”. as he finally relaxes with his head in your lap, you scold him once again for dirtying your new blanket he gifted you for today. latte follows suit, laying on top of his stomach and licking under his chin. you smile, running a hand over his cropped blonde locks. his eyes fall shut, and you can see the relaxation come over his body. his forehead is still a little damp due to the sweat he worked up running with his dog, and you discreetly wipe your hand on the blanket beneath you.

you can’t tell if the two resting on you are sleeping or not, but soonyoung’s face looks completely at peace and latte hasn’t moved an inch since getting comfortable. eventually, seeing as they haven’t moved, you rest your head against the tree behind you and bask in the peacefulness of the environment around you. eventually, the duo wake up, and you finally share the treats you packed for the occasion. for you and soonyoung there’s a heart shaped cake with wine glasses to scoop it up with, and latte has her own miniature dog-safe one. there’s many photos taken and lots of icing splattered everywhere, but when you look back on the day and see the joy on your faces, along with the initial necklaces you traded as your gift, it feels chaotic but so you.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

[i-am-a-secret-ssshhh]

Not me packing only 5 ish hours before I leave for a 3 day road trip. I also only just remembered that pajamas are a thing I need to pack. Yay!

[gumified]

PRICE TO PAY

pairing: god!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary: you had prayed and prayed for the drought to finally end, for the village to finally be granted rain, so when meeting one of the gods you strike a deal and pay the price.

content: 4.4k, smut, pwp, big dick!gojo, virgin!reader, praise, degradation, dirty talk, cunnilingus (fem. receiving), ice play, bondage, gagging, fingering, squirting, orgasm control, overstimulation, public but also not public sex

note: have fun :D

The heat beat down on your face as you walked up the hill, buckets of water straining your shoulders. Your throat was parched and you were drenched in sweat. You were so thirsty it was unbearable. It had been months since the last rain and the nearest stream was miles away. Your village had long since lost hope, abandoning their faith in the gods. But not you. You knew they were up there. You believed they would help.

While everyone else assumed the drought would eventually end, as it had before, you couldn’t wait. Your brother was so young; he might not survive much longer. Water was life and without it survival was impossible.

“Hey, Ren.” You forced a smile for your brother. His face was flushed, and his clothes were tattered. “Come on, you need to drink this.”

Ren coughed, struggling to sit up. “Y/n, you’re back.”

“Yeah.” You brought the bowl closer to his lips, urging him to drink. He sipped weakly. “How have you been feeling?”

“I feel really hot.” You felt his forehead and sighed when you felt it even warmer than before. The fever he had was burning through his body. Ren wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging on you tightly. “Y/n you won’t leave me will you? Not like mum and dad.”

Brushing his hair out of his eyes, you felt your heart break a little. “Of course I won’t leave you. You’re gonna be stuck with me for the rest of your life, promise.” He grinned, giggling. There’s a small bit of you that wished that this would end soon but you knew better. 

“I love you Y/n.” Ren mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.

“Love you too Ren.” 

You were shaken awake and you nearly screamed when you caught sight of a beautiful face in front of you. His jaw was perfectly chiselled and his lips were plump, kissable almost. You felt your cheeks flushed. His eyes were what captured you most of all. Sapphire swirls painted his eyes, you felt yourself being pulled towards him. 

“You mortals really do sleep like - what’s the saying? Oh yes - like the dead.” His sneer transformed his handsome features into something far more menacing. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to spend the night at a temple?”

“I-I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep by accident.” You tried to move away but it was like an invisible force was keeping you from moving your limbs. He smirked, crawling closer to you so that you were inches apart. “W-Who are you?”

“Little mortal doesn’t know who I am.” His tongue flicked over his lips. “You’re in my temple, little one.”

"Y-Your temple…" The cogs in your brain turned and you let out a frightened gasp. "Y-You're a God."  

He grinned, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Smarter than you look. It's Y/n isn't it?" Words failed you and you felt your throat grow dry. He twisted a strand of your hair around his finger. "You've been praying for a heavy rain season for weeks. How could I not remember your name." 

"Does that mean you'll help me?" 

"I'm afraid the weather is in my brother's domain. I control the oceans, mortal." 

"I know who you are, Satoru Gojo, God of the oceans and earthquakes. Your brother controls the sky and its weather." You said meekly, feeling your cheeks burn at how close he was. The tapestries had always depicted him as a handsome man with bulging muscles. But something about seeing him in real life had you so enamoured. 

Satoru smirked, the blue in his eyes growing even brighter. His body glowed with a soft, golden aura. You gulped, unable to meet his gaze. "And yet you knew that, but still came to pray to me every day, making sacrifices as well."

"W-Well they say you're the most generous s-so I thought…"

"You thought I would help you?" Satoru cocked his head to the side. "Don't you know everything comes with a price?" 

"And I'm willing to pay that price." 

A silent pause passed between the two of you before a smirk crept up on Satoru’s face. You noticed his eyes grow darker, the bright pigment transformed into a much more seductive hue.

“My, my, little mortal’s brave.” You felt his eyes trailing over your body and you felt like you’re being hunted. “So you’ll do anything?” His fingers brushed over your thigh teasingly. You nodded. 

A wicked grin spread across his face. You squeaked in surprise when his mouth collided onto yours. The intoxicating scent of the ocean filled your senses and your eyes fluttered shut. Satoru’s lips moved ferociously against yours, it made you feel dizzy yet they tasted sweet at the same time. You could taste the sugary taste of leftover ambrosia as he delved into your wet cavern, tongue exploring each and every crevice. 

Your arms remained by your side, unsure of what to do. But when Satoru tugged you forward, they wrapped around him tightly, and you felt him smirk. Your hands wandered over his rippling muscles, trying to carve the feeling into your memory. He bit down on your bottom lip, drawing the slightest bit of blood.

The taste of your own blood mingled with the sweetness of ambrosia, created a heady mixture that made you gasp. Satoru pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin. "Everything comes with a price, little one." He murmured, his voice a velvety whisper. "Are you sure you're willing to pay it?"

You nodded, breathless and trembling. "Anything, just please help us."

Satoru's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. "Very well, mortal. But remember, once a deal is struck with a god, there's no going back."

His fingers traced patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "You'll belong to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Body and soul."

You felt yourself growing hot as he ravaged your mouth, a soft growl emitting from his throat. You weren’t familiar with his actions, you had never been bedded, too busy tending to your sick brother. The people had called you many names but you didn't care. But now, with your minimal experience, you were nervous, scared even at the thought of a God deflowering you. Nevertheless, you started to grow wet, your pussy started to stick to the thin piece of cloth that covered you. 

Satoru pulled away yet again, a single strand of salvia connected the both of you as he awaited your answer. You panted, out of breath and slightly intoxicated from just the sense of him. 

“Do you accept?” His voice was deep and sultry, something about him was so deliciously seductive that you couldn't help the way your thighs squeezed together involuntarily.

"I accept." 

Satoru's eyes flashed with satisfaction. "Good. Then let our pact be sealed." He captured your lips again, this time more possessively, his hands roaming your body with a newfound intensity. You let out a moan as his tongue slithered back into your mouth. 

He sunk two fingers into your folds making you whimper at the stretch. Your hands gripped his biceps, nails digging down. Satoru licked his lips, continuing to pump into you, gradually increasing the pace. The lewd noises that filled your ears made a blush rise to your cheeks. Never in your life have you felt so dirty, so shameless.

"You're dripping, my sweet. Who would've thought you'd be this turned on." His tone was laced with unmistakable lust and hunger. "Been watching you for so long. Couldn't wait any longer to be inside you." He growled, fucking into you faster, drawing louder moans out of you. 

"S-Satoru…" You gasped as he plunged another digit into you, manoeuvring his fingers so he hit all the right spots. "I-I…"

He stared at your core, your juices all over. For a second he slowed down, giving you a chance to breathe and relax before he picked up the pace. Curling his fingers, touching your sweet sensitive spots in your velvet walls. His thumb rubbed your clit, playing with your sensitive nub. A tight hot rope seemed to wrap around your stomach as Satoru continued to fuck you harder. He smirked as your walls squeezed his fingers. You let out a gasp when he touches a particular spot within you. 

"Close my sweet?" He whispered, lips brushing against your ear and it sent you closer to your high. All you could do is nod fervently, the twisting feeling wrapping around your stomach tightened. You mewled as he fucked you faster, adding another digit. “You can’t cum just yet, got to make sure you’re ready for my cock.” He hummed.

You clenched around his fingers once more, tears pricked your eyes as you threw your head back at the pleasure you were receiving. Satoru surged forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He swallowed your moans and whimpers. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving soft open-mouthed kisses in his wake. Your noises were like music to his ears as he drank in every moan, whimper, mewl - the breathy gasps and the lewd pants. 

“You know my sweet, there’s something that I love about being a God.” 

You gazed at him through your lashes, his lips curling up into a devilish smirk. An ice cube appeared in his hand. You weren’t sure what to think until he slid it up and down your hot wet folds, then you were gasping at the coldness that hit your core. There was a rush of newfound delight that filled you up and you were rutting your hips, asking for more.

Satoru simply grinned, pushing the cube of ice further inside you watching your reactions bloom in front of him. His fingers were dripping with both water and your arousal. You let out a soft hiss when the ice cube is pressed harder into you. The coldness contrasted with the warmness of your needy walls. It spiked through your body as it made your blood rise and your head became light at the overwhelming feeling. You were clutching onto Satoru with so much force that it would hurt him but he didn’t care, not when he was in the midst of unravelling you.

“Let’s see how many you can hold.” It shocked you into a frenzy when you felt another ice cube get pushed inside you, the last one still slowly melting. 

“Mmmph. Too much, ngh, feels weird, ‘s too much.” Your mind seemed to explode as you babbled incoherently. “F-fuckkk ‘toru it’s cold a-and-“

You were unable to finish your sentence as Satoru reached out his hands to pinch your clit causing you to jolt forward at the sudden gesture. You felt a rush as you gazed up at him. watching his smirk grow as he looked at your sopping pussy. 

“You’re so beautiful!” He teased your folds, rubbing against them harsher. “Take more for me okay? You’re such a good girl, my sweet, keep that dirty pussy dripping as I stuff you, okay?” Satoru’s lips brushed your ear. “Then I’ll let you cum.”

You felt yourself spiralling into euphoria when he slid his finger down your pussy. His tongue flicked over his lips as he admired your fucked out face. Morals left your body and you let your urges take over. All reason and thought left you as you were reduced to a whining needy mess. Your pussy clenched pathetically around the ice cubes, the cold still surprising you. Satoru did nothing but coo at you, tucking strands of loose hair behind your ear.

“Come on my sweet.” He urged. “You're doing so well. This pussy is so pretty, she’s just so gorgeous, fuckkk, wish you could see her.”

“A-Ah, ‘toru good f-feels so g-good.” 

You were writhing beneath his grip, a feeling of overwhelming pleasure surged through you as he continued his actions. Your pussy constricted around his fingers and you felt something grow within you. Your nerves and senses were heightened as you felt his fingers nudge at your swollen clit. 

“I-I feel somethingg, ngh, f-feels weird like I’m gonna burst-” You gasped out, unable to keep the noises within you.

“Awwww.” Satoru’s tone was mocking as he watched your tiny frame twist and turn under his grip. A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re close, my sweet, beg to cum and maybe I’ll be nice enough to let you.” 

It was almost painful but the pleasure was so uncontrollable that it overtook any pain you felt. Satoru slid another freezing ice cube into you, making you scream. Your mind was dizzy and you could only feel yourself getting stretched repeatedly with the cold object. Your pussy walls were both cold and hot, the mixture that Satoru had concocted dripping from them. Sweat covered your body, glistening as the sun shone down. You felt like you were on the verge of collapsing, so desperate for an unknown pleasure to come to your saviour.

“S-Satoru...cum, p-please. W-Wanna cum…” You stuttered helplessly, silently shrieking at the contrast of temperatures.

“More, beg more.”

You screamed at the feeling as his fingers thrusted in you making your head light as you desperately gripped onto his shoulders, clawing at some sort of way to tether you to the present. His words were laced with seduction as he continued to tease you.

“C-Cum cum cum, please pleaseee, needa cum so b-bad ‘toru fuckkk! P-Please let me cum, ‘s too much need it s-so bad, please please please!”

Satoru laughed as he buried his head in your neck, placing kisses on the empty space. He loved your desperate pleas, the breathy moans that would fill the gaps and the tears that followed as you begged him for something you had never experienced before.

“You’ve been such a good girl.” He purred, his deep voice making you clench around him. “And good girls deserve to cum. Go on my sweet, let it all out on my fingers, make a mess of this pussy.” 

You felt a wave of ecstasy rush over you as he pressed his fingers down, biting into your neck. Your body shook at the sensation that overcame you. You rocked against Satoru as you felt your pussy squeeze and constrict. A newfound feeling gushed from within you and you felt yourself scream at the pleasure. Your mind was reduced to filth as you moaned, the ringlets of your release jolting through your body. Satoru groaned at the way your cum coated his fingers and he stared at your desperate cunt, watching the aftermath of the mess you had just created. You didn’t know what to think, your mind cloudy and confused. 

“You fucking squirted, dirty fucking girl.” His eyes were transfixed and suddenly you felt embarrassed at the wetness between your thighs. He reached his hands out forcing you to stay open for him, exposing your most private part for him to ogle at. “Who knew this cute little pussy was capable of such filthy things. You’re just a whore in disguise aren’t you?”

Your pathetic mewls convinced him of nothing. Satoru stared in wonder at your pussy, watching as you clenched around nothing. He slid his fingers in his mouth, tasting every bit of you. A low moan was heard before he dived down licking up your mess. Still sensitive, you cried in shock, threading your hands through his hair. He sucked harshly at your sensitive bud, lapping at your juices. The feeling made tears bleed from your eyes and you tug on his wispy locks. 

“Like it, my sweet?” His voice sent tingles down your spine and you held back the urge to scream. “Can’t hear you?”

“L-Like it so much ‘toru…” You let out a shaky breath, beads of your tears clinging onto your lashes. “P-Please…”

He lapped at your cunt greedily, swallowing every single drop. Your arousal dripped from his chin with a mixture of his salvia. His ears were blessed at the loud squelch that would emit from between your legs. Everything was so messy but he didn’t care as he continued to play with your pretty cunt. You could only whine and quiver at the feeling. Your legs shook, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. Blissful thoughts whizzed by as he kept you locked in an euphoric sensation. You struggled to not cry out and sob when white dots blurred your vision. 

Satoru flicked his tongue against your engorged clit, plunging the wet muscle inside. His mouth was hot and you felt his tongue circle your swollen clit messily while you stuttered out pleading moans. He pried open your thighs, desperate to access deeper into the precious new heaven he had discovered. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overstimulation, finding it hard to focus on anything as your senses overloaded. Your mouth hung open as sweet whines constantly fell from your lips. All you could do was lie there letting Satoru ravage your pussy like a man dying of thirst.

“C-Close, close so so so close!” You gasped when you felt him release with a pop before diving back down to continue to suck. “Too much, ‘toru ‘s too much, feels t-too goodddd…”

It wasn’t long before you were cumming again. Another round of your wet arousal coating his face and he licked it clean. You were drooling now, salvia running down your chin as you felt the tears run down your face. It was too much and you feel yourself fall into a new world of pure pleasure. You could feel Satoru’s lustful grin against you as he sucked your pussy. Your thighs shook, chest heaving up and down. Despite the fact you had just released it never stopped the god from indulging you in his carnal desire.

"Sweet little Y/n." He cooed as his thumb ghosted circles around your puffy clit. “Think you’re ready for my cock?” 

It was a question that didn’t need an answer but you still nodded your head lifelessly. Your body was limp in his grip and you struggled to hold yourself up, relying only on him. Satoru smirked from above you, pushing you down on the marble floor. His hands were big and warm and the simple touch had heat blossoming at your pussy. You barely registered what was happening until you had your hands tied together. A thin golden cord wrapped around your wrists and Satoru bit his lip. You looked so beautiful, so pretty, so submissive. 

“I like you this way my sweet. All tied up and ready to be used.” He frowned and you panicked, scared you had angered him. He snapped his fingers and you found a piece of cloth in your mouth, stopping you from speaking. “That’s better, as much as I love your noises I find this much more appealing.”

Your eyes widened when he reached down to release his cock from its confines. You had never seen something so big and dare you say pretty. Satoru’s cock was red and flushed, pre cum oozing out of the swollen tip, dripping like pearls as they rolled down his fat cock head. You felt yourself drool at the sight and you didn’t think you would want something in your mouth so bad. He grinned smugly at your reaction, knowing you were unable to say anything as you stared transfixed at the sight before you.

“Don’t worry my sweet, I’ll make sure to make you feel so good. I know how much this pussy loves to be filled up.”

The words are dirty yet you couldn’t help but let out a muffled whine as he picked you up. His tip pushed past your folds, nudging into your pussy hole. You shut your eyes letting yourself feel the stretch that he gave you. His cock was so big and every bit of your body felt like it was on fire as he continued to push inside. He paused letting you adjust, whispering into your ear quietly. Filthy praises that only made you drip and mewl. It felt like magic and you whimpered into your gag helplessly. Satoru’s fingers brushed through your hair and he peppered sweet kisses across your face. 

It was like your world had imploded as he thrusted into you. Nothing else mattered as you moaned and squirmed at his touch. Your senses went into overdrive as he quickened his thrusts. He pumped in and out of you. He filled every crevice of your sex. His pace never slowed even as you felt all the energy leave your body. You screamed into the gag when he hit that particular spot that had you keeling. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasped for air through the gag. 

“Fuckkk you’re so tight, such a slutty virgin pussy. Look at how you’re gripping on my cock my sweet, she’s so loud.”

His words only made you keen with desire as you gave in to the carnal temptation that bloomed within you. 

“Mmmmph!” Your moans grew louder with every harsh thrust as his cock touched every part of your gummy walls. “Ah-Ah-Ah! ‘toruuuu!”

Satoru showed no mercy as he pounded into you. Cock plunging in and out of your pussy. Wet noises echoed through the walls of the temple and a small part of you felt bad for doing this, here of all places. It was inappropriate but it felt so good. Too good even. He continued his movements and the binds that once bound you vanished and you assumed that this was a sign that Satoru wanted you to touch him so you obeyed. Your fingers dragged down his back, sure to leave marks. Fingers fluttered from place to place, desperate for something to anchor you.

“You look so beautiful, pussy sucking in my big cock. Such a good girl for me.” He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. Everything he did felt amazing. “Moan for me my sweet, go on let me hear those filthy sounds.” 

You obeyed his command letting the lewd sounds tumble from your lips as you gasped for more. Your hands roamed the vast expanse of his body, the taut muscles that lay under your hands, each touch ignited sparks. His grip on you tightened, his fingers tangling in your hair, pulling just enough to make you gasp again. Every brush of his lip, every stroke of his tongue, every bite and nibble was a reminder of his power and you couldn’t help but give in completely. 

The vigor that he fucked you with was compared to no man and you couldn’t help the lustful sounds that escaped your lips as his hips snapped to yours. It made your mind reel with the feeling of pleasure. His hair fell into his eyes and you reached your hands to sweep through his locks. Satoru was so handsome. He was a god after all and you couldn’t help that your heart pounded whenever you looked at him.

You felt your orgasm approach and you clenched your hands around his toned biceps, nails digging into his skin and he hissed. You moaned repeatedly into the gag as your body shook frantically from the pleasure. 

“A-A-Ahhh! ‘toru ‘toru ‘s too much, nghh.” Your body thrashed in his grasp, wriggling and writhing as you felt the immense feeling build up again. Every movement magnified the intensity as you felt the shock ricochet throughout your body. 

“It’s okay my sweet.” Satoru whispered but his thrusts were unrelenting. His fingers brushed against your clit, circling the bundle of nerves as he drew out your orgasm. “It’s okay, let's cum together. Soak my cock Y/n, such a good girl.”

Your juices overflowed and you felt his cum pump into your body, filling you up until you were so so full. Warmth blossomed throughout your body and you felt yourself wringing his cock with every drop of cum. The feeling was incomparable and you gasped for air once he removed the gag with the snap of his fingers. Satoru kissed you, his lips were demanding, moving against yours with raw hunger. The taste of the ocean filled your senses, salty and intoxicating. He pulled out to place a kiss on your thighs, on your pussy. You were so sensitive and you felt his cum as it flowed out of you. He stuffed two fingers in your pussy and you squealed at the sudden gesture. His fingers curled in and out of you before he slapped your core. The sting sent shock waves through your body and you couldn’t help the moan that tumbled out of your lips.

“Keep it in there my sweet, I’ll be visiting again.” His voice was a husky whisper, deep and seductive. 

Then, with those words, he disappeared, leaving you a naked mess on the temple floor. You were breathless and reeling from the pleasure that he had just bestowed upon you. You had just given yourself to a god, one that had just stuffed you so full of his cum. You stared at the place where he had been in shock, your head felt light from all that had just happened. Your legs gave way when you tried to stand up, they were sore and achy, covered in splatters of both of your cum. His smirks and groans filled your senses once again and you felt yourself flush at the memory. 

Satoru Gojo had just introduced a lustful desire that you didn’t think you would be able to forget for a very long time.

You gathered your belongings with shaking hands, urgently attempting to steady yourself as you stood. The wet splashes that painted your body were a stark reminder of what had just happened, and you tried your hardest to conceal them along with your flushed, fucked-out face.

You hobbled your way back to the village, heart pounding in your chest. Every glance from a passerby felt like they could see right through you. The sheer thought that someone would stop to talk to you had you eager to get home unnoticed.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was watching from Olympus, his eyes never leaving your retreating form. He grinned, a sense of satisfaction washing over him as he saw your tiny self hurry home. The memory of your trembling body and flushed cheeks was seared into his mind and he felt his cock harden again at the thought. He knew you were thinking of him, longing for him, and that was exactly what he wanted. When the time was right, he would come for you again, and induce you in a pleasurable haze once more.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Good Man

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Logan Howlett is a good man. At least, that's what you keep telling him.

Disclaimer: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Steam (figuratively and literally), swearing. Logan is the good guy and you prove it to him. Fluff, cuteness, Logan in a flower crown, angst, happy ending, mentions of Halloween and Christmas. Descriptions of period pains, The Addams Family reruns. Again, MDNI. Not Proof Read.

For as long as you had known Logan, you had known he was a good man. 

It didn’t matter what other people said about him, or what he even said about himself. To you, he would always be a good man. 

And that was something you always tried to remind him of. 

The first time it happened, it had just rolled off the tongue. Of course, you knew you meant it and at the time, you didn’t notice the way Logan’s eyes told you the sad truth that he didn’t believe you. 

It had been one early October morning. You had spent most of the night staying up to cut out some felt and cardboard shapes for your classroom to decorate not only for the fall season but also for Halloween. 

You didn’t expect anyone else to be awake that early so when Logan walked into your classroom just ten minutes after you had returned back to your seat on the floor, practically drowning in Halloween cut-outs. 

“Here.”

Holding down the coffee holder, you were presented with the second cup in the holder, your name written on the side in Logan’s handwriting. 

Still waking up from three and a half hours sleep, you looked up a little shocked. But calmed the minute you saw his own tired smile looking back at you. “Go on.”

Taking the coffee cup from the holder, you brought it close to you, your hands enveloping the hot surface. One sniff and you knew what it was instantly. 

“Oh, my god. You are a saint, Logan.”

Logan couldn’t fully look at you, feeling a little heat on his cheeks. “Yeah, well…don’t mention it.”

He brought his own coffee to his lips as he placed the empty holder onto a nearby desk before walking around you and your sea of Halloween, placing one hand in his pocket as he nursed his coffee. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked around yourself after taking a sip of your drink. It was perfect. 

“Decorating.”

“Aren’t they meant to be on the walls instead of the floor?”

You nodded. “They will be…if I can get them finished in time.”

Logan took a scope of the decorations before taking off his leather jacket, folding it and throwing it over your desk chair. 

“What-What are you doing?”

Logan placed down his coffee on your desk before removing his second plaid shirt. “Helping. Here, you’re cold.”

Logan draped his shirt over your shoulders and you were instantly hit with his warmth and his scent that was still prominent on his jacket. 

“Thank you.”

Putting your arms through, you fastened a couple of buttons. Meanwhile, Logan pushed some of the decorations aside and sat adjacent to you. 

First he picked up an unorganised pile of themed worksheets, flipping through a couple of them. Tapping them down, you pulled your coffee away from your lips. “The paper cutter is-”

As you pointed to the desk behind him, Logan’s claws came out and he just shot you a smirk before swiping down the edges. You pulled back, eyes a little wider. “Or you could just do that.”

Logan let out a small chuckle before doing the same to the other three edges. 

For the smaller cut-outs, he did use the pair of scissors you gave him. 

“How did you know I was awake?” You asked Logan after a few minutes. 

“I didn’t. But I knew you had a late night. Figured coffee couldn’t hurt.”

You smiled, watching where your scissors were slowly going round the corners of the apple tree you were cutting. “You’re a good man, Logan. Not many people would be up this early and bring me coffee.”

A few hours later, everything was finished being cut and Logan leaned back on his hands as he sat on the floor. You were still in his shirt. Was it wrong for him to be admiring how better you looked in his clothes than he did?

“What do you think?”

Logan came back down to earth. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Come and help me.”

Logan got to his feet, dusting off his jeans before walking behind you. “Pass me that?”

Logan did so and stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady. 

It wasn’t long before he himself was up another set of ladders, taking your instructions for how high to hold the bunting. 

“Little further.”

“Any higher and it’ll be in the ceiling.”

You laughed. “Okay, that's perfect.”

By the end of the day, everything was finished and set up ready for a new week. And every time you looked around your classroom and saw the identical looks of wonder and excitement in the kids' eyes, proved that you were right. 

Logan Howlett was a good man. 

Two weeks later, a knock came to your door. 

“Rogue? Is everything okay?”

She shook her head. “Sorta. Freya won’t let anyone brush her hair. She keeps saying it’s hurting her head.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Have you tried detangler spray?”

Rogue shook her head. “She won’t let anyone near her. It already took three of us to get her to shower.”

Finally getting to Rogue’s room, you knocked on the door. “Hey, Freya. What’s going on?”

“It really hurts.”

Rogue knelt beside you, in front of Freya. “Where does it hurt?”

Freya touched her head. “Here. It pulls really tight.”

“Okay.” You looked around. “Would it be okay if I put some magic spray on?”

“Magic spray?”

You nodded, nudging Rogue. Shuffling over, she grabbed the bottle from her desktop before handing it to you.  

“What does it do?”

“Well,” you looked for the nozzle before turning it around and gently picking up the ends of her hair to spray it. “It helps the brush run smoothly down-”

Freya started to panic. “No, no. No. No brush.”

“Freya-”

“What’s going on?”

From the door, Logan was standing leaning against its frame. 

“Freya’s hair sore.” You told him as he walked inside. “She won’t let anyone brush it.”

Logan slowly made his way inside. “Oh, no. That’s not good.”

Logan took a second before pulling his jeans a little to be able to crouch down. “I see Y/n’s already put some magic spray on it?” 

Freya nodded. “She said it’s going to help.”

Logan nodded, placing down the bottle you handed him. “Well, that’s true.”

“Will you let me try and brush it?” 

Freya debated the idea, fear still in her eyes before shaking her head. 

“Okay, that’s okay.” 

Then you had an idea. 

But Logan beat you to it. 

“Would it be okay if I tried?” Logan asked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Freya, although still fearful, slowly handed Logan the brush she’d been holding in a death grip. 

“Come and sit over here, honey.” 

Freya stood up with Rogue’s help before Logan helped lift her onto the vanity stool and crouched behind her. 

“Promise you’ll be gentle?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky swear.”

Logan spotted you and Rogue through the glass for a second before looking back at Freya and linking his pinky with hers. 

It was the first time in a month Freya had sat down, quietly, and not cried or yelled out when someone was brushing her hair. 

By the time Logan had finished, he didn’t know what to do. So, quickly, Rogue came back to his side. “Is it okay if I put it into a braid?”

Freya nodded. “Thank you, Professor Logan.”

Logan gave her a small smile and handed her the brush. “Anytime, kiddo.”

Standing back beside you, your arms crossed your chest and you nudged Logan a tad. “You’re a good man, Logan. Thank you.”

Logan shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. “She’s a good kid. They all go through this phase. Some are worse than others.”

You smiled at him before looking back to where Rogue was explaining something to Freya.

“Do you know how to do that?”

You looked up at Logan. “What? Braid hair?”

He nodded. 

“Yeah, why?”

He looked at you. “Could you…teach me?”

A slightly wider smile graced your face. “I’d be happy to.”

That was why a few hours later, Rogue was sitting in front of you, whilst Logan was sitting behind you, following along with how you were braiding Rogue’s hair. 

“How do you even learn how to do this?”

“It’s just like riding a bike, Logan. Once you know how to do it, you will never forget it.”

Logan grumbled and let your hair fall through his fingers. Meanwhile, you slowly tugged at Rogue’s fresh braid until it had come undone. 

“I’ll go slow. Just follow me. Split it into three.” 

Logan did that. 

“Take one outer section.”

Logan did that, too. 

“And pull it across the middle.” You move the original middle section to the side before taking the other outer section and pulling that across to create a new middle. 

“And you just keep repeating that until you get to the end of the hair, and finally, finish with a bobble.”

Logan had finally done it. It was loose, but he had done it. 

Rogue’s watch went off. “Shoot. I was meant to meet Bobby.”

“Go ahead, just don’t wreck the kitchen this time.”

Rogue smiled. “We’ll try not to.”

Closing the door behind her, Rogue left. 

You remained seated in front of Logan’s legs as he pulled the hair tie free and your braid fell out again. “Think you can do it on your own?”

Logan let out a breath and tried again. “Outer over middle?”

You nodded lightly. “And then the same on the other side. You’ll be doing french braids before you know it.”

“They can stay in France.” 

Logan continued to braid down your hair. It had been years since someone had played with your hair, and you found it comforting. Raking his fingers from the top of your head, he split it into sections once more and you felt yourself falling asleep. 

Less than a week later, you walked past the living room where you found Freya sat between Logan’s legs as he brushed and braided her hair. 

The next morning you woke up with a smile at the memory before being hit with a dull punch to your lower abdomen. 

You didn’t move for twenty minutes because every time you tried, it seemed to come back. But once it had finally passed, you forced yourself to sit up, your head feeling heavy before you looked at your bedsheets. 

“Of course.” 

For the next two days, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Your period had decided to kick the shit out of you ever since it surprised you by coming a week earlier than expected. 

And by the time Logan found you, you were sitting uncomfortably in the television room, watching reruns of the Addams Family. 

“You look like hell.”

You gave a small sniff. “Feel like it, too.”

Logan pressed his hand to your head. “You’ve got a temperature.”

“It’s just hormones.”

Logan shook his head, pressing the back of his hand to your cheeks before pressing his fingers to your neck but you swatted him away. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Logan, I’m on my period. A week early.”

Logan nodded. “I know. That’s why I brought you this.”

In his hand, Logan handed you a fresh hot water bottle and a packet of chocolate. “Oh, my god,” you sighed. “You’re a saint.”

You could have cried. Maybe you were. 

You were in that much pain, you couldn’t exactly tell. 

Sitting beside you, Logan pulled a blanket over your bottom half as you held the hot water bottle against you and snuggled into his side. 

And for the next hour and a half, Logan stayed by your side, watching the Addams Family Show with you. Half way through, his hand absentmindedly stroked at your hair before he pulled you closer to him, allowing him to kiss the top of your head. 

“You are the greatest man who ever lived, Logan Howlett.” You told him before looking up at him. “I really mean that.”

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”

Then you saw it. 

Logan didn’t believe you. Sure, there was the smallest smile to his face, but you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. 

And that struck you to your core. 

“Logan, look at me.” Pressing your palm to his cheek, you turned his head. “I do mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Logan took a moment. Then he smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

And he kissed your head. 

Laying back down on his chest, you watch the rest of the episode whilst your insides started to feel like it was holding a hellhound in a cage that was scratching its way out of you. 

“You okay?”

With your eyes squeezed tight, you nodded. “Just cramps. They’re usually not this bad. Or at least this often.”

Logan nodded, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “What usually helps?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I usually ride it out. They come in waves.”

“What about painkillers?”

The sharpness finally left but the dullness stayed. “I like to see how high my pain threshold is.”

Logan groaned a little and rolled his eyes. “And you say I have a death wish.”

Taking your hand, Logan walked you towards the door, turning the TV off and throwing the remote back onto the sofa from the door. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m running you a bath. I’ve heard they usually help.”

And he did. 

Even why you tried to say he didn’t, and you could do it yourself. 

“Sweetheart, you can barely walk.” Logan told you as he splashed the bubble bath through the water. “And I could smell you from down the hall. You need to wash your hair.”

That was how you found yourself sitting into a hot bath, covering yourself with bubbles as Logan came back inside. 

Quietly, he pulled a stool beside the bath as you pushed yourself to sit further forward. “Can you dip your head back?”

Slowly, you did so and it wasn’t long before Logan was running shampoo through your hair, softly scrubbing at your scalp. God, you never wanted to leave. 

Logan felt you relax against his touch, slowly leaning your head back when his palm brushed against your forehead. 

With a cup, Logan let the water fall through your hair, washing the suds away from your scalp, down your back and into the water. 

For both of you, everything felt…quiet. Calm. 

Intimate. 

“Thank you,” you broke the silence eventually. “This really helps.”

Logan pulled his gaze from your back and shoulders, forcing himself to look anywhere else but you. “Good. I’m…I’m glad.”

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it. What I said before.” You repeated it as you looked back at him. “You are a good man.”

Logan swallowed, avoiding your gaze to look at his hands for a second. “We don’t have to-”

You held onto his hands and he finally looked at you. “I mean it, Logan. You are a good man.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Why?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back up to your eyes. You couldn’t deny you hadn’t thought about it as well. 

“Because a good man wouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking right now.”

You felt yourself lean closer to him. “What are you thinking?”

Logan shook his head despite the fact he felt himself move closer to you, too. “You don’t want to know.”

Your own gaze flicked to his lips and back again. “I trust you, Logan. I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

Slowly you came to your knees and Logan’s eyes roamed over you, his breath shortening by the time he looked back to your eyes. 

Pulling his hands from yours, one began to brush the wet streaks of hair from your face and neck as the other found your waist and started moving lower towards your hip. 

Despite the hot bath, your skin flared in goosebumps at Logan’s touch, your own breath hitching in your chest. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to kiss you,” Logan held before his palm spread wider on your hip. “I want to feel you.”

“Then do it.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. 

Pressing his lips to yours, it wasn’t long before his hands pulled you closer to him, your own hands pulling him in by his collar. You let his hands freely roam your body, before one slipped down and over your ass, hitching you up until your legs wrapped around his waist, a pile of water trailing after you both. 

Turning around, Logan set you down on the counter top, moving back a little before letting his lips make their way down your jaw, neck and chest. 

Cupping the back of his head, you whispered his name. And for a second he pulled away. His hand still by your waist, he leaned over and fumbled with the shower until it was finally spraying out. 

And whilst you waited for it to heat up, Logan put himself back on you. 

His hands were everywhere and it was driving you insane. And once he finally did something about it, you let out a little gasp. 

“Is this okay?”

A smile came to your face as you dipped your head forward, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your neck. 

“More than okay.”

Curling his digits inside of you, you let out a breathy moan and jolted forward a little when his thumb began circling your clit, adding more pressure. 

You gasped. “Logan.”

“S’okay, Sweetheart.” His lips captured yours again as his other hand held you steady by your hair. “Just ride it out.”

Thrusting in and out of you, he continued to curl up inside of you. 

“M-more. Logan.” You moaned in pleasure, your pussy begging for him to circle your clit harder. “Please.”

Entering a third finger, Logan stretched you out as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers. 

“That’s it.” He spurred you on. 

You fell back against the wall as his hand left your head and came to your hip, pulling you closer to him and the edge whilst his fingers curled deeper inside of you. 

“That’s it.”

You gasped. “Keep-keep going. Don’t stop. Logan…”

Almost chanting his name as his mouth made its way down your collarbone, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking at the curve of your breast, you felt Logan apply more pressure around your clit, keeping a steady speed as he brushed in a circle. 

You gasped. “Logan, I’m gonna-”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as a moan of pleasure escaped from your throat before Logan’s own mouth caught it in his. 

Your breath heavy and your chest heaving to catch it, Logan swiped across your clit a few more times until you had fully finished. 

The steam was growing heavy around you both and once Logan had finally stripped down with your help, it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against the glass of the shower, Logan’s hand leaving a running print beside your head. 

He had been washing your body, his hand grazing the loofa over your skin, all the while he pushed the hair from the side of your neck and slowly pressed firm kisses down the length of your neck. 

Slowly, he turned you around before you found your back against the glass, his hand beside your head and his lips on yours once more. 

Mere seconds later, you hooked your leg around his hip and slowly guided himself into you. 

By the time morning finally broke through, you were fast asleep against Logan, miraculously still in the pyjamas you had put on after the best shower experience you had had in years. 

Dressed in his boxers, his legs were tangled with yours, his chest pressed firmly against your back. 

And by the time you woke up, you found two small braids at the side of your head and a note from Logan saying he’d be back later since Storm had dragged him into being the second chaperone for the field trip. 

One busy day and a broken down bus later, Logan finally got home and found you half asleep on the sofa you had been on the night before. 

“Hey,” you whispered, the light from the TV brightening you both for a moment before a laughing track played. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” Logan whispered back before moving the blanket up a little to allow him to slide in beside you. 

“I missed you this morning.”

“I wouldn’t have left but Storm cornered me when I was making coffee.”

You smiled a little, wrapping your arms around him as he did you with you. “I figured.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Logan pressed his palm gently against your lower half, holding the small of your belly up a little bit which somehow relieved some of the pressure your uterus had been putting on you since mid-afternoon. 

“Want to head to bed?”

“Soon,” you told him. “I want to find out what happens?”

Logan smiled a little. “Haven’t you watched these before?”

“A dozen times, but I still love them.”

Around ten minutes before the episode finished, Logan felt you grow a little heavy beside him and when he looked down, he found you were fast asleep. He waited for the episode to finish before turning the TV off and bringing his hands under your legs and his arm around your back as he lifted you up. 

By the turn of the hour, you were cuddled back besides Logan, one of his hands at the bottom of your back, the other holding your knee in place over his middle. 

The next couple of months continued the same way. Often, you’d fall asleep or at the very least be half way there before Logan would carry you to bed. It seemed to change every couple of nights who’s room you’d sleep in. 

There were moments when Logan would wake up, roaring from the pain of memories. But he was finding them to be very few and far between ever since he started waking up next to you. 

By Christmas, you couldn’t have been more in love with Logan if you tried. And realising this fact hadn’t been from some grand romantic gesture that would be shown to be in the next Hollywood blockbuster. 

He had simply said that you needed to get some lights for the Christmas tree. 

With his arm around your waist, you looked up at Logan to find a look of confusion on his face. You could practically hear the cogs turning over in his head. 

“What? What is it?”

You looked back at the tree, expecting it to be housing a family of squirrels despite the fact it was artificial. 

Too many kids in the school had an allergy to pine trees. 

“We need some lights.”

Logan walked forward and straightened up the tree and you just stood…shocked. Your hands still clutching themselves in front of you, you felt your heart practically swell with excitement and…

Love. 

“What?” Logan looked at you from behind the tree. 

You broke out in a smile and shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just…excited. It’s officially Christmas.”

“We’re still in November.”

“Barely.” You protested. “And besides, who was the one who wanted to get the tree out of the attic?”

As your arms came around his neck, his arms came around your waist pulling you closer to him as he stepped out from behind the tree. 

“Okay, fine. You’ve got me there. But it’s only because I know Rogue will spend the next week badgering me to get it down.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” you smiled before kissing him. “You might be a good man, Logan Howlett. But you are a terrible, terrible liar.”

A couple of weeks later, school had finally finished. The Winter exam season was finally over and grading the final paper, Logan threw it into the box before sealing the lid shut and carrying it to the other side of his room, shoving it into the bottom of his closet. 

Riddled with tiredness, Logan slumped down onto the edge of his bed rubbing his face just as you walked in. 

“Here you are.”

Logan looked up and graced you with a tired smile. “Close the door.”

You did so before walking over towards him where he placed his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were standing in between his legs. 

“Long day?” You asked him as he lay his head against your middle, letting your hands run through the back of his hair. 

“The longest. You?”

You let out a sigh. “Longer still. I think I need to teach a couple of handwriting classes. It’s not the marking that takes forever, it’s the reading. Have you finished?”

Logan looked up at you. “Just finished the last one.”

“I’ve still got a couple more on my desk.”

“They can wait until tomorrow.” Logan told you. “Let’s just take a break. Where are the others?”

“Down by the hill.” You nodded your head towards his window. “Storm’s making it a snow day for everyone. They should be gone for a couple hours.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Logan’s hands pushed your shirt up a little allowing him to feel your skin. 

“Because,” you smiled. “I wanted to see you.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan pressed a small kiss to your belly. “Any other reason why?”

You shook your head, acting oblivious. “Not that I can think of.”

Logan pressed some more kisses across your middle whilst his hands started to unbutton your jeans to allow him more access. 

He heard you take in a breath and he smirked, feeling your hands rake through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp before going down his neck. 

“Well, maybe I can think of one.”

Logan smirked. “If you’re thinking, I’m not doing my job properly.”

Continuing to press his kiss against you, Logan slowly pulled your jeans down your hips, over your ass and down your legs, being sure to press his kiss along your thighs as he brought himself to his knees. 

Trailing his hands up and down your legs as you stepped out of your jeans, Logan looked up at you. 

“Beautiful.”

You felt yourself blush at his words before he pressed a kiss against the inside of your thigh. 

“So beautiful.”

For a moment, you felt your knees go weak. 

Stumbling back a little, you gripped onto the edge of his desk. Slowly, his hand caressed your calf, bringing your leg up. Again, his hot breath trailed up the inside of your thigh, pressing chaste kisses against your skin as he made his way towards where your panties were still on. 

Taking his time with you, he pressed more kisses to your hip bone whilst his fingers toyed with the line of your underwear. 

Pulling each side down at a time, he kissed the soft skin under them before finally removing them all together. 

Finally, pressing kissed down the middle of your stomach as his hands played with your ass, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, lifting you a little until you were balancing on the edge of his desk. 

“So wet already.”

His tongue was light at first, against your clit, coaxing it out of hiding until it was fully present for him. With his moans vibrating against your pussy, you gripped the back of his head. 

Gasping, you felt his tongue slip inside of you, tasting every last bit of you. 

Every now and again, his nose would bump against your clit leaving you wanting more, begging him to do more. 

Then he finally listened. 

Pushing a finger inside of you, he hooked it up before pulling back out, all too slowly for your liking. 

Logan looked up for a moment, watching your head fall back as he sucked at you and your own hand went under your top and you began playing with yourself. 

“M-more. Logan. Please.”

With a smirk, Logan added a second finger.

“Keep going,” you pleaded with him before letting out a gasping moan. “That’s- that’s- that’s it. Logan.”

If there was something Logan lived for, it was watching this. Watching your build up before your eventual release. The gasps and moans that escaped your throat, the slight scream you would give as he got you closer and closer to the edge. 

Logan’s jeans restricted him almost to the point of pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

Lapping you up, Logan was surrounded by your scent and taste. He thrusted faster hearing you go from slowly muttering his own word to almost screaming it. 

With his tongue circling your clit, he felt your walls tighten against his fingers, his hair being gripped by your hand and he finally got the full taste of you. 

Logan made you come twice more before the others got back; once more with his fingers, stretching you out as you lay against his bed, his mouth taking over the work of your hands, leaving them to roam free across him, and finally with you stuffed full of his cock, begging for more as he slowly built up to pounding into you, before flipping you both over, letting you ride him whilst one hand held you steady and the other drove you half to insanity as he played with your clit and his lips left his mark against every corner and curve of your skin. 

And once more after everyone had gone to bed. 

Feeling his chest against your back as you both walked into his room, one hand came up your shirt before the other went down your bed shorts, pulling your fresh panties to the side and circling and dipping into your some more. 

Before you knew it, both of your clothes were strewn across the room and Logan was flipping you over, lifting your ass, allowing his hand to leave its print before snaking around you, letting you beg into his pillows as he flicked at your clit. 

After Christmas, the months began bleeding into one and before you knew it, summer was just around the corner. 

Outside on the fresh grass, Logan was coaching the final baseball game of the day whilst you were with a couple of the kids, picking out fresh flowers from both the garden and the grass.

However, just before Logan was about to yell time on the game, you felt his arms come around your waist. 

He tied his jacket around your waist. “I’ll run you a bath later.”

Logan kissed the shell of your ear before running back across the field, calling time. 

Twenty minutes later, Logan was back at your side, kneeling in the grass with the rest of the kids, and at some point in time, you turned around to find Logan being told to sit still whilst Freya stood in front of him, Rogue sitting beside him taking pictures. 

When Freya moved out of the way, you saw what she had been doing. 

Walking over with a small laugh, you crouched by Freya’s side. 

“Well don’t you look cute.”

Logan tried his best to hide his smile but he couldn’t help it. You caught it anyway. 

“Freya made it for him,” Rogue told you before holding up her camera. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of pictures.”

Freya nodded proudly. “I found some more daisies by the fountain so I could make one for Professor Logan.”

And sure enough, there it was. A daisy chain flower crown around Logan’s head. 

“I made you one, too, Y/n.” Freya showed you as it hung delicately from her arm. “So now you can be matching.”

“Thank you, Freya.” You smiled widely. “Would you put it on for me?”

Freya gave a small smile and shook her head before holding her arm out to Logan. “I think Professor Logan should put it on.”

Logan looked at you and raised his eyebrows for a quick second before carefully removing the crown from around Freya’s arm. Quickly she stepped out of the way and sat in between Rogue’s legs. 

“Take some pictures.” Freya whispered to Rogue. 

With a soft smile, Logan got onto his knees as you fell to yours in front of him. He brushed a few stray hairs from your face before carefully placing the crown securely on your head. 

Logan smiled at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Beautiful.”

Rogue gave a small cough with a hidden smirk. It wasn’t uncommon for either you or Logan to get lost in the other's eyes when you were together. There could be thirty people in the room, but the minute you looked at each other, the rest of the world faded away. 

Snapping back into reality, Logan cleared his throat. “What do you think, kid?”

Freya rushed to Logan. “Hmm. It’s perfect!”

You smiled as Freya hugged you. “Thank you, Freya. It’s beautiful.”

“Hey, Freya? Want to take some more pictures?”

“Yes, please.” 

Rogue handed the camera over to her and helped her put it around her neck. “Be careful with it?”

“I promise.”

Rogue held out her pinky and Freya linked her with Rogue’s. 

“Come on, Ms Y/n. I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “I’m coming. Slow down, honey. Don’t fall.”

Rogue watched as Logan watched you and Freya run down the field towards the fountain to a small bed of flowers. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Rogue asked, already knowing the answer. She looked away before she could see the slight flash of fear on Logan’s face. 

But it was true. 

He did love you. 

Truly loved you. 

And yet…he hadn’t told you yet. 

But you hadn’t told him. 

It had been almost nine months and neither of you had told the other you loved them. Of course, there had been unspoken moments. The slow, lazy mornings when his fingers would trace up and down your back before dipping under the covers pulling you closer to him. The quick goodbye’s between lunch breaks when you’d both rush off to teach your classes. The danger moments where it had almost been said, but the hesitation had been covered up by both of you. 

“It’s okay. Just tell me when you get back.” You’d tell each other. 

Only, you never did. 

You showed it. 

But never said it. 

And as Logan watched you with Freya, holding the butterfly on your finger as Freya worked the camera, snapping some pictures, Logan wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you. And if that day ever came…would that be the day you leave him? Or worse, get hurt because of him?

You looked back at Logan for a moment as Freya took another picture. And he smiled back, giving you a small wave back. 

“I hope I have what you and Y/n have one day.”

Logan looked at Rogue. “I thought you’re with Bobby?”

Rogue smiled and looked down. “I am. We are. But I think it’ll take a while before he looks at me like how you look at her.”

Logan shook his head with a smile before standing. “Don’t doubt it, kid. He loves you. Anyone with eyes can see it. The same way anyone with eyes can see you eyeing him up from all the way over here.”

Rogue blushed before Logan lowered his hand down to help her up. “Well, it’s not like you two are the most subtle couple in the world. But do you really think so? About me and Bobby?”

“Look, kid. I’m no saint when it comes to advice, or love for that matter, but you just have to take each day as it comes. At the end of the day, if he’s still the one you want to talk to, even when you’re fighting with each other, you’re on a better path than most.”

“Isn’t it better not to fight?”

Logan shrugged. “Fighting is just a part of life, kid. But if ever lays a hand on you, he won’t be standing for very long.”

Rogue gave Logan a small smile. “Bobby’s not like that. And if he ever was, no one else would have to worry about what would happen to him. That I can handle on my own. But thanks anyway.”

Logan nodded and patted her shoulder before looking around. “I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on Y/n for me?”

“I think she can look after herself,” Rogue nodded. “But sure. Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere important. I’ll be back soon.”

Taking the steps two at a time, Logan made his way inside the school.

Hours after the sun had set, you still hadn’t seen Logan since he crowned you with daisies. 

Then, taking a walk into his room, you looked out of his window and saw him sitting in the gardens. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

Logan looked back, a little startled that someone else was out with him. “Nothing. Just…sitting here.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Logan shuffled up a little and you sat beside him. 

Logan was quiet. Usually he’d hold your hand or he’d put his arm around you. This time, he just looked out and away. 

“Is everything okay? I didn’t see you after the flower crowning ceremony.”

You looked up and found the flower crown peeking out from his hair. He still hadn’t taken it off. Or he’d forgotten it was there. 

Yours had been twisted into your hair by Rogue and Freya when it came loose during dinner. 

“I don’t know what we’re meant to be doing.”

You shrugged. “Right now, nothing. I thought we were just sitting here.”

“I’m not a good man, Y/n.”

You drew back a little. “Where is this coming from?”

Logan took a breath. “Rogue made me realise something today and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I’m not a good man, Y/n. People I care about, people I lov-” 

Logan looked at you and the words faltered in his mouth. 

“They get hurt.” He finalised. “People get hurt because of me.”

“Logan-”

“Or by me. I’m not a good man.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re a good man, Logan,” you finalised. 

“Please. Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

You were baffled. “Why wouldn’t it be true?”

“Because everyone I have ever cared for has gotten hurt or died. And I can’t put you through that. I can’t see you getting hurt because of me.”

You shook your head. “Logan, I’m not going to get hurt because of you.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed, our lives aren’t exactly the most normal in the world.”

“Maybe not, but I’m enjoying my life so far.” You raised your voice a little as Logan stood up, beginning to pace. 

“I’m not good enough for you, Y/n. You deserve the good guy.”

“You are a good guy.” You stood, walking towards him. 

With his hands on his hips, Logan stopped pacing and you stopped walking, falling six feet short of him. “No, I’m not. People…people don’t take someone like me home. They don’t marry someone like me. They don’t end up with someone like me. You don’t want me.”

You took a step forward. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I’m not the good guy. The one you can take home.”

You took a breath. “Logan, I am home. And you are the good guy. You always have been. Whoever convinced you you’re not the good guy can fuck off. And nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

Logan almost pleaded. “Why?”

Logan knew he didn’t have the best record when it came to those he loved, surviving past so many years of friendship with him. Leaning on over a hundred years, Logan had known loss in more ways than one. Why couldn’t you see that you could lose, too? That because of him, because fate seemed to have damned him to a life of forever losing those he loved, you would lose, too? Why couldn’t you see that by being with him, you were putting your own life on the line? 

“Because I love you, Logan!” 

Logan felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a horse. “Nothing you or anyone else can say or do will ever convince me that you’re not the good guy. Because you are. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Hell, I’m seeing it right now.”

You gestured to his head. 

The Daisy Chain Flower Crown. 

He’d almost forgotten it was still on his head. 

“Logan, you have spent your entire life looking out for people.”

“They still get hurt.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But that wasn’t your fault. Sometimes there is nothing any of us can do that will stop someone from getting hurt because sometimes that’s just how it’s meant to be. Sometimes we can learn from it, most of the time it’s just a shit part of life. Logan, you are a good guy. Better yet, you’re a good person. You always help when you can. You take care and look out for those you care about.”

You continued. “Whoever told you you’re not the good guy, they were wrong. Plain and simple. If you’re not the good guy, then who sits on a classroom floor at five in the morning cutting out decorations for somebody else's classroom? Who brings me coffee every morning, just how I like it? Who helps a little girl not be afraid of brushing her hair anymore? Who then asks to learn how to style hair so he can do it for her? Who helps set up a Christmas dance, and steps in to help the kids learn how to dance properly?”

That was something you remembered most often. Rogue and Bobby had been struggling to learn how to dance together, forever stepping on each other's toes. Until Logan had been through watching enough second-hand pain and stepped up. 

He had taken your hand in his, setting your book face down on the side table beneath the lamp and talked Rogue and Bobby through it. 

“Logan,” you whispered to him. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered into your ear. 

You later found out, over a hot cup of tea, that he had learnt to properly dance when he was younger (at least, that’s what he figured from his muscle memory) but most of it came from when he had a short stint as a security guard at a retirement centre where some of the older women would ask him to dance with them before pushing him off to dance with their visiting granddaughters. 

Logan had led you effortlessly, leaving both Rogue and Bobby in shock. Parting from you, Logan helped Rogue learn first, it being clear she wasn’t a natural follower. And then he taught Bobby, making him copy his steps as he moved with an imaginary partner. 

“Who spends entire evenings sitting watching reruns of black and white TV shows with me, even if we’ve seen them a thousand times? Who spends more time holding doors open, grabbing things from the higher shelves, braiding kids' hair when they ask, helping Rogue learn how to bake properly without burning the kitchen down? You do. You do, Logan. Because that is who you are. You are the guy that, even hours later, still wears the flower crown in his hair because someone made it for him.”

You held your hands by his neck, making him look at you. 

“And that is why I love you.” 

His gaze finally zoned in on yours. 

“Because for all your gruffness, grunting and brooding, you are kind. And thoughtful. And considerate. And I don’t think you realise how good you truly are, Logan. I don’t care if you think I’m going to get hurt. What hurts me is you thinking you’re not good enough for me, because you are Logan. You are the guy I could only ever dream of finding, when I was a kid. And even then, I didn’t find you. You found me. Sitting on that hardwood floor in my classroom where you brought me my coffee and gave me your jacket to keep me warm. I love you, Logan Howlett. Nothing can ever change that for me.”

Finally kissing him, you felt every emotion pour not only from yourself but also from Logan. Your kisses bled from his lips, across his cheeks and finally to the side of his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you flush against him. 

He didn’t want to let go. 

With one hand in your hair and the other wrapped around your back, Logan pressed you even closer, taking in your scent with his. 

“I love you so much.”

Logan’s words vibrated through your entire system and for a moment, your heart relaxed. Pulling back a little so you could see his face, your thumbs brushed across his cheeks as his forehead pressed against yours. 

“You are my home, Logan. I love you. I always will.”

“I love you, too.”

“Never let me go.”

“Never.” 

Logan barely had time to get his words out before his mouth found yours for a second outpouring of emotion. 

Eventually, you both finally made it back upstairs where Logan helped you into a hot bath whilst the sound of old reruns came from your bedroom TV.

After that night, never a day went by where you didn’t tell each other you loved each other. Nor was there a day where Logan didn’t prove you wrong. He was the good guy. He was your home. 

And you loved him for it. 

And he loved you back, just as strongly. 

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

I saw this on Twitter and I just screamed because this is so Osita and Javi code 😭 like when she was having bad morning sickness and couldn't eat anything, but Javi just said her favorite foods and went to buy them 🥹

https://x.com/pascalisswift/status/1847825290875048157?s=46

McFlurry for Two

Summary: You're wide awake, pregnant, and have no idea what you want to eat. Lucky for you, Javi has an idea of what may make you feel better

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: This is all fluff and sweetness 🥺 Mentions of morning sickness and food aversion

A/N: Sweet non, whoever you are, this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen 😭 You know that this man would cross the ends of the earth and back to get you whatever you were craving. Dad to be!Javi is top tier, 10/10, no notes.

It doesn't surprise Javi to find you wandering around the kitchen at 5:30 in the morning anymore. Thank god he's always been an earlier riser- it makes it easier to keep you company as you shuffle through the boxes and containers in the pantry for the 3rd time since you've woken up, trying to will whatever you and the baby have been craving into your kitchen. Even if he wasn't an earlier riser, the sounds of you frantically scavenging through every food item you own like some sort of wild raccoon would be enough to wake even the heaviest of sleepers.

It also doesn't surprise him when he stumbles into your kitchen, half awake and half dressed, he hears the sounds of your sniffles, crying in frustration that you can't figure out what you want to eat at this ungodly hour of the morning.

"Baby's hungry?" He asks, never blaming you for whatever strange, nearly non-edible combinations you're looking for. He made that mistake once early on- He's learned his lesson ever since.

You still can't help but pout, arms crossed over your chest, trying to hold back your tears as Javi sneaks up behind you, the warmth of his bare chest pressed against your back, hands wrapping around to splay across your growing bump.

"Yeah. We have nothing to eat."

It takes everything in Javi not to laugh as the two of you stare into your open pantry, filled to the brim with every snack imaginable from the 6 trips he's made to the grocery store this week alone.

Truth be told, he's just happy you're eating again after 3 hellish months of barely being able to keep anything down besides bananas and diet Coke. He'll take multiple trips to the grocery store instead of watching you hunch over the toilet in misery any day of the week.

"Anything sound good, Osita?" That's a question he's learned is a gamble too- when you already have an answer in mind, you couldn't be happier he's asked. When you don't, he's come to find it's a question that can quickly lead to tears.

Unfortunately for him, this morning, it's the second.

"I-I don't know. I'm so hungry and nothing sounds good. And then I think something sounds good, but then I think about it for too long, and then the thought of it makes me wanna yak. Ugh, I just wanna eat!" For as humorous as the basis of your conundrum is, it still breaks his heart to watch you cry, gently kissing your shoulder and rubbing his hands back and forth across your belly to try and ease at least a little bit of your pain. You're growing his baby, for Christ's sake. If you wanted fresh spaghetti and meatballs, he'd be on the next flight to Italy, if that's what it took.

"Shhhh, I know, honey. It's okay. We'll figure out what Baby wants, I promise. Want me to list things, and then you can tell me if they sound any good?" He knows his one good brain cell is definitely not working full force, considering the sun was still hours away from waking the rest of the world, but he also knows that your poor brain is working overtime and a half. The slim chance he can come up with a solution that gives you any sort of relief is solace enough for him.

"O-okay." You sniffle, gulping down the rest of your tears. Javi knows he's not a mind reader, but Lord knows it would sure help if he could be one right now.

"Pickles and sriracha?"

"Ew, no. Spicy stuff sounds gross and I don't wanna have heartburn later."

"Sour gummy worms?"

"Ehhhh, maybe."

"Garlic bread?"

"Oh god, no. Please don't say that again, or I may legitimately throw up."

"Okay, not that, got it. Uh, shit- What about... French fries? Like, french fries dipped in chocolate ice cream?"

He braces himself for the next 10 seconds of silence as you ponder his suggestion. Thankfully, your silence is golden.

"Oh my god, that's what I wanted! How did you know that's what I wanted?" Even though you're still crying, at least now they're tears of relief, Javi letting out a quiet exhale of satisfaction himself at the fact it only took him a single digit number of guesses to solve your hunger riddle.

"Lucky guess." Javi smiles as he gently wipes the tears from your eyes, kissing your forehead before bending down to kiss your belly. It does a number on his knees, but he'll take all the joint pain he can handle before passing up on a chance to greet his two favorite girls good morning. "Try and go get some more sleep, Osita. I'll be back in a few with food. There anything else you want while I'm out?"

He's not sure what he's said in the past 3 sentences that's made you start crying again- he hasn't been able to figure out a pattern in the past 5 months, and guesses he won't come close in the 54to come.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby, don't cry, it's okay." He coos, draping his arms around you to pull him against his chest, letting your weepy tears drip against his tanned, warm skin.

"I'm- I'm sorry." Your apology only spurs your tears on further.

"Sorry? What on Earth do you have to be sorry about, Osita?"

"That I'm always hungry and can't stop crying about it."

He can't help but smirk at this one, brushing the sleepy strands of hair away from your face as he carefully cups your cheek, tilting your chin up just enough to place a delicate kiss on your lips.

"Cariño, you don't have to apologize. You're pregnant. No offense mi amor, but I kind of expect crying and being hungry all the time to be a given."

Javi's relieved to finally hear at least a little giggle out of you now, quiet laughter replacing your tears as you remember that somehow, you were lucky enough to be married to a literal saint sent down from the heavens.

"I know, I just- You're so good to me. You're so good to both of us. Way too good to us."

"You're literally growing our baby inside you. French fries and ice cream is about the least I can do."

"I love you, Jav."

"I love you too, Osita. Try and go back to sleep for a little while I'm gone, okay? You and Baby Girl gotta rest up for this McDonald's."

As much as you'd love to protest, it doesn't take much for Javi to get you to curl up on the couch, wrapping you up in your favorite blanket with the TV on low. He laughs to himself as he reappears from your bedroom, putting on enough clothes to go through the drive-through, only to find you passed out cold, mouth half-agape and snoring like a train.

At this point, the McDonald's staff practically knows him by his first name, considering Javi's the only one who's ordering french fries and a chocolate McFlurry before the sun has yet to rise. He knows he has some at home, but it's more often than not that a large, black coffee has now become a part of his order, too, and none of the employees can blame him for that.

The sky has slowly begun to shift from shades of black and blue to warm pinks and oranges as he pulls into the driveway, a sign he's more than likely not making into work on time- his co-workers have learned that a pregnant wife pretty much trumps everything else, short of a life or death emergency.

You're still sound asleep as he tiptoes through the rest of his morning routine, scribbling a quick note under the bag of fries he's left for you on the end table next to the couch, sneaking one last kiss before he leaves for work and begins the countdown of coming back home to you.

It doesn't surprise him to hear his phone ring not long after he's made it into the office- He is almost sure it's you- he's got a 6th sense for it at this point.

"Peña."

"Your note made me cry this morning."

He doesn't mean to beam with an ear to ear grin as he listens to talk about how you're crying, but there's few things in this world he'd rather hear than the sweet sound of your voice.

"You crying at the note, or the fact there's two McFlurries in the freezer instead of one?"

"....Both. How'd you know I would change my mind and say I wanted vanilla instead?"

The concrete evidence is in the pile of crinkled drive-through receipts in his center console, but now's not a time for "I told you so's".

"Just had a feeling. You and Baby Girl enjoy your breakfast."

"This is the most embarrassing version of a breakfast I've had in a very long time, but I guess it's an upgrade from bagels and hot sauce. God, she's gonna have the weirdest taste in food when she grows up, isn't she?"

"If she grows up to be anything like you, I'll be the happiest man alive, hot sauce and all."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[ljubimaya]

AN ACT OF LOVE ۶ৎ

۶ৎ SYNOPSIS: Being loved is being taken care of - emotionally and physically. ۶ৎ FEATURING CHARACTERS: Baji Keisuke, Shuji Hanma, Kazutora Hanemiya ۶ৎ C/W: fluff, established relationships/marriage, afab reader, mentions of flu symptoms in Baji's part, pregnancy in Kazutora's part + some hurt/comfort, insomnia in Hanma's part, petnames (baby, granny lmao), super self-indulgend ngl, not proof read, lowkey sucks but oh well ☠️ ۶ৎ AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is inspired by me being sick some time ago and sulking in my bed. Also took me ages to finish this. ۶ৎ W/C: 3.3k+

۶ৎ Keisuke Baji: 

It’s the dead of the night, and you laid on your stomach, head  resting on the side while your arms were spread. Your husband, ever the considerate and loving man, sat next to you as his calloused hands kneaded your aching muscles. It’s been terrible the last few days since you’ve started sneezing and coughing. At first, you assumed it must have been some allergies, but the added fever, fatigue and muscle pain painted a clearer picture for you: You must have gotten the flu. 

So you took off a week from work to rot in the bed you shared with your husband, taking every disgusting tasting medication your doctor has recommended and falling asleep right after. While the other symptoms have gradually become better - thankfully, for you were going insane with your stuffy nose - your muscles wouldn’t stop hurting. The worst part, however, was that nothing seemed to help, no pain killers, no grain pillows, no overpriced could lessen the ache you felt in your tired muscles.

Thankfully, you happen to be married to the best man in the entire earth.

Keisuke has been so attentive ever since you’ve gotten sick. Despite his busy work schedule, he made sure you were taken care of, like making sure you’re taking your medicine in the morning and the evening, cooking you nutritious meals when he had the time for it and  most importantly, tending to your aching back. He did give the best backrubs of all time after all. 

So you waited impatiently for Keisuke to come back from the veterinary clinic he worked in to massage your muscles, occasionally dozing off continuing to take your meds with a sour face. 

The torturous wait came to an end as soon as you heard the heavy yet familiar footsteps of your husband nearing the bedroom. You stirred awake yet again from the shuffling noises in the background to see him sit down on your bed, skin clad in his casual pair of sweats and a white baggy shirt, holding a small bottle of massaging oil in his hand.

“Did I wake you up?” Keisuke asked, sitting down on the end of the bed, his heavy hand tenderly stroking your covered leg “Are you feeling better?”

You chuckled when you felt his loving touch “Wow, not even gonna greet your sick wife? How rude, Kei” You couldn’t see him well from the way you laid on your stomach, but you envisioned the ravenette rolling his eyes at you “Don’t roll your eyes at me, Mister Baji”

“How did you even know I was rolling my eyes at you?” your husband questioned as he moved to sit next to you, tugging the blanket and your - his - shirt away from his way “I just know you, Kei” you merrily replied, lightly shuddering when the cold oil made contact with your skin. His warm hand softly rubbed your back, spreading the massaging oil evenly “As you should. I’d be really pissed if my own wife didn’t know me and my antics” He muttered, digging his thumbs into your back muscles and rubbing them against your hurting muscles. 

“Kei, it hurts!” you groaned into the pillows, struggling under the strong palms of his hands “You’re being too rough”

“I know, I know baby, but you’ll feel much better” Keisuke spoke to you, his usual gruff tone softening for you “Jeez babe, your muscles are rock hard. You have the back of an old granny” Keisuke snickered, his touch becoming more gentle. He’d hate to seriously hurt you. 

“Keisuke I swear to God” you scoffed into the pillow, deciding to play along with his banter “I’m not an old granny and won’t become one anytime soon. You should be ashamed of bullying your sick wife”

“Hmmmm, nope, feelin’ no shame”  

Your pained whines and protest slowly but surely grew silent as your husband continued rubbing and kneading your sore muscles, easing the ache you’ve been feeling all day long. Stopping after a while, Keisuke plumped next to you. Your mattress dipped at his sudden shifting before you were pulled towards him, scooped up in his embrace. A small yelp escaped your lips as you were manhandled into a different position - a position more of keisuke’s liking. You were turned to lay on your side, your back snugly pressing against your husband’s front as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Kei! Geez, you will get sick if you get close to me like that”

Keisuke lets out a content sigh, his nose bumping against the tender skin of your neck “Oh shut. I’ve slept next to you for the whole week, I’ll be fine” He scoffed before he murmured into your neck “Besides, I’ve been looking forward to this all day long”

Heat crept up your face. You knew Keisuke can be affectionate - hell, you married this man, of course you knew he was affectionate towards you - yet the way it rolled off his tongue so sweetly made you feel as shy as when you had just started dating him. Loving him never gets old, you supposed. 

So you laid in the warm embrace of your husband, feeling the beat of his heart softly thudding against your back and the slight tickle of his calm breath against your neck. Comfortable silence engulfed you two, and before you knew it, you heard his snores from behind you. A tired smile crept up on your lips before you followed suit, falling asleep in the ravenette’s embrace. The pain faded, and all you could feel was Keisuke’s love and devotion to you. 

۶ৎ Shuji Hanma: 

A deep hum left Shuji’s lips as he made his way to your shared apartment. Work has been taxing for the last few weeks ever since one of his photo’s he did for a wedding blew up on the internet. While he enjoyed his work and the extra money flowing in, sitting in his office and editing his client’s pictures till the sun goes down was not a way the tall man enjoys spending his nights. During the day, the tall man would be driving from shoot to shoot, instructing models how to pose while taking numerous pictures and making calls and adding appointments to his agenda.  

Who knew following his passion would turn him into a relentless workaholic? 

Unlocking the door as quietly as he could, Shuji quietly walked through the darkness of his apartment to the bathroom. More like forcing himself to go take a shower before crawling under the blankets with you, for Shuji knew you would be more than displeased with him. As he’s letting the warm water hit his skin, the ravenette’s thoughts drifted to you.  He didn’t liked to admit it too often, but he missed you throughout the day - the way you’d scold him for ruining the freshly washed sheets with his ‘outside smell’, the way you would subconsciously scoot closer to him in your sleep, the way you are alway the first to wake up in the morning, the way you would have to convince him with kisses and promises of a hot cup of coffee waiting for him in the kitchen if he gets up. 

Man, you were just so good to him.

Shuji quickly dried himself off and changed into his pajama - the one you thoughtfully left on top of the washing machine so he wouldn’t have to disturb your sleep by rummaging through the drawers. Tired, but feeling more relaxed after taking his shower, he quietly walked towards your shared bedroom, careful not to bump into anything. You should be asleep already, softly snoring as you’d be lying on his side of the bed and hugging his pillow. At least, that would be how Shuji usually finds you whenever he comes home from work past midnight. He would usually gently push you to roll over to your side and carefully attempt to pry his pillow away from your death grip. Most of the time he gives up and resorts to sleeping with your pillow under his head, which he doesn’t mind. After all, the best way the lanky man falls asleep is being surrounded by your scent.

However, upon entering your shared bedroom, he finds you laying in bed, wide awake and diligently tapping away on your laptop. The lamp on the nightstand illuminated the bedroom, bathing you in a soft golden hue.

“Baby, why are you still awake?” Shuji asked as he approached you, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. Upon coming closer to you, he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the tired look in your face. Still so beautiful. 

“I wanna finish this chapter. I think I made the plot too complicated” You sighed as you averted your eyes from the bright screen to take a look at your equally tired boyfriend. 

“Besides, I gotta edit it too. I feel like my writing is inconsistent and lackluster” Despite his fatigue, a grin grew on his face. Oh you knew he was about to bully you. 

“Probably because you need to rest” Shuji snickered as he took the laptop from your lap “Can’t have your little brain burn out before you finish writing the epilogue” 

“But Shu, I need to finish this right now-” 

“This reminds me of the times you used to pull all nighters back in highschool to finish your assignments, but this time you’re doing it willingly” 

You scoffed, unable to find humor in your boyfriend’s attempts to tease you. Placing your hands on your laptop, you lightly pulled it closer to you as you muttered “Your comparison sucks, Shu. I’m writing because it’s my hobby, not a chore like the assignments used to be” The man could only shake his head, the light grin quickly turning into a scoff “You sure this isn’t a chore for you? Sure looks like you treat it like one”

Oh, he got you. You tried really hard to come up with a witty come back, something that would make him mind his own business. Unfortunately for you, your sleep deprived brain couldn’t argue with him. Against your ego, you had to bite the bullet. 

The grip on your laptop loosened. The truth was that you were dying to fall back into your mattress and  get the rest you desperately needed, but the need to be finished with your herculean task overthrew your basic human want. 

Seeing as you weren’t budging, Shuji gently attempted to take your laptop away; this time placing the device on his own lap before suggesting “You lay back. I’ll read what you have written so far”  

“Shu, it’s fine-”

“Do what I say, doll” He cut you off without sparing you a glance. Instead, he got comfortable in your shared bed and began to silently read your writing “You made some spelling mistakes. And I don’t understand why you’d word this sentence like that” The ravenette pointed his index finger at the bright screen, showing you the sentence he meant “But honestly? Not too shabby. The pacing is nice and most importantly, the plot isn’t boring” 

You weren’t sure if you were hearing things right. Since when did he know anything about literature? 

Shuji snickered as he watched you squinting at him “What? Didn’t like what I said?”

You could only huff, watching him turn off your laptop and placing it on his nightstand  - right next to the now cold cup of coffee he didn’t get to finish in the morning “Are you sure you’re actually my boyfriend? Are you actually my Shu?” You looked him up and down “My boyfriend doesn’t know that much about writing”

The man next to you pulled the blanket over his body as he laid down. Turning his face to you, he smugly replied “You’re acting like I’m uncultured”

“You aren’t?” 

Your boyfriend pulled you closer to him, encasing you in his warmth. Shuji bumped his nose against yours “True. Guess you rubbed off on me” He muttered tiredly “Now close your eyes. You gotta finish that chapter tomorrow for me”

۶ৎ Kazutora Hanemiya:

Dread filled you as you looked down on your hands, watching as one line immediately appeared on the test. Truth be told, this wasnät your idea. Catching up with your friend Emma in a cafe near your workplace turned into you ranting about your fatigue and nausea pretty quickly as soon as Emma noticed the tired look in your eyes. 

“It’s probably the stress from work”, you tried justifying, explaining the big projects you were working on for the last few weeks. Conveniently, you left out that even though work has been taxing, you were still able to get a full night of sleep every time you came home from your office, and that you had enough time to spend with your boyfriend outside of work. 

Emma would only shake her head at you “You know, I thought it was just stress and lack of sleep too, but it wasn’t” she’d rub her visibly pregnant belly as she recalled the symptoms she’s experienced before she found out she was expecting. 

Emma successfully planted the seed of doubt in your mind without even realizing. 

You tried rationalizing feeling fatigued and nauseous for a while, thinking that upon the completion of your projects your symptoms would disappear. But, oh, how wrong you were. Each passing day became harder for you, as tiredness became a looming presence throughout your everyday life. Barely being able to keep your eyes open and containing your breakfast in your stomach, you grew anxious of the prophetic words Emma told you weeks ago. Out of desperation, you looked up pregnancy symptoms to calm your raging nerves down. Fatigue? Check. Nausea? Check. Morning sickness? Check. Mood swings? Check. Missed period? Check. 

You knew you wouldn’t have to continue reading, but you foolishly held onto the hope that there would be at least one big symptom that would contradict your fears. Defeated, you put your phone down on your coffee table. Scrolling through a seemingly endless list of possible pregnancy symptoms drained you, but the uncertainty ate you alive. so you mustered up all of your strength and courage to walk into the closest pharmacy and get a pregnancy test. To calm my nerves, you’d think as you picked up whichever pregnancy test the pharmacist advised you to buy. 

This leads you to where you are currently. The results took an agonizingly long amount of time, and you started to overthink again. Truth be told, while you weren’t planning on it anytime soon, you assumed it would happen one day. The main reason you felt so anxious was your boyfriend’s reaction to you possibly being pregnant. You weren’t even sure if Kazutora, your beloved boyfriend, even wanted to have children of his own. The conversation about settling down with kids just never seemed to pop up in any past conversations you had with him. You didn’t have a lot to go off on; all you really knew was that while Kazutora was good with kids, he still had issues he needed to work through. 

What would he say? Would he be angry? Happy? Would he leave? Your stomach churned as the thoughts flooded your mind. Your eyes were focused on the pregnancy test in your hands, however you didn’t pay attention to it. 

Your trance- like state was interrupted by a loud knock on your bathroom door “Hey, you ok in there?” Kazutora’s muffled voice, filled with worry, came from the other side of the door. Your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice, not expecting him to come home so soon. Clumsily, you stood up a little too quickly and rushed to open the door for him, leaving the pregnancy test on the sink. You swung the door open, coming face to face with the man you loved most. His loving face was scrunched with worry, eyebrows knitted as he took your panicked state in “Hey, baby. Didn’t think I’d see you home so early. How was work?”

“Was alright. I tried calling you, but you didn’t pick up the phone, so I came home to check on you” Kazutora replied, his gaze still fixed on your tired looking face “You look awful. Maybe we should go and get you checked up” 

You shock your head vehemently “No! No, there’s no need for that. Trust me, I’m healthy” Placing your hands on his face. The warmth of his skin brought you comfort, calming you down a bit before you continued “Trust me, I am fine” 

Your boyfriend narrowed his eyes at you “Babe, no. This is getting out of hand, you need to see a doctor” He huffed, walking past you to get to the bathroom “Get dressed, I’ll drive you there” Kazutora walked towards the sink. Cold sweat coated your skin as you watched him reach the sink and turn on the faucet. This was it, the point of no return. You knew he would see the pregnancy test, and he’d be the first to see results - even before you yourself could see it for yourself. You began mentally cursing yourself; for not looking at the test before you rushed to open the door for him, for not hiding the test, for not being careful enough. Bracing yourself for his reaction, you watched his movements stutter. The water running from the faucet splashed in the background, hitting the stone material of the sink harshly, was the only noise drowning out the deafening silence between you and Kazutora. 

“Baby, is this what I think it is?” Kazutora silently asked, his voice unsteady and quiet. You almost wouldn’t have caught his question if you weren’t hyper fixated on him. You couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad sign, hell you weren’t even sure what the results were in the first place. Coming to the realization that you needed to be truthful, you sighed and started to explain “I haven’t seen the results yet. I’ve been feeling” You paused, sighing, before continuing “I haven’t been feeling myself for some time now” 

“I understand” Kazutora turned the faucet off, the splashing of water suddenly coming to a stop before he turned around to see you. 

A soft smile graced his features, the same one that made you fall head over heels for him all those years ago. Just like the sun hitting ice, his relaxed, loving expression was enough to melt your worries away “So? You wanna know the results?” You nodded eagerly, expecting to be given the pregnancy test from your lover. He handed you the test, his touch lingering. Kazutora intently watched your face as you looked down to see the pregnancy test in your hand. 

Two lines. Positive. 

A gasp left your lips, hands flying to clasp over your mouth to contain your bubbling emotions. Your gaze switches between the positive test and Kazutora. The realization that you are very much pregnant hits you hard, but the realization that you worried about him not taking the news well for nothing knocked you off your feet. 

Happy tears welled up in your eyes and soft sobs escaped through your lips. Closing the distance between you and him, the ravenette gently held your waist with one hand and cupped your cheek with the other one. His calloused thumb swiped over your soft skin, wiping away the small droplets of tears escaping your eyes “I’m so bad with words, but baby I need you to know how happy you make me. From the moment we have met, to the day you’ve agreed to date me. But today, you’ve made me by far the happiest I have ever been” 

You choked up when you saw his golden eyes become glassy, feeling his usually steady hand shake with every word he speaks to you. Your hands moved away from your mouth, cradling your lover’s face instead. Lovingly, you gazed into each others’ eyes as you stood in your small bathroom, feeling the butterflies flutter in your stomach while Kazutora’s hand moved to place itself over your tummy - holding the two most precious people in his life. 

[peachii-nitenite]

Much Needed Support (sfw-suggestive content) Part 1

JayVik x Reader Ramble

Idea: You’ve been overworking. Your aches and pains worsen by the day, and you can’t seem to tough it out like you used to… there’s only two people you really trust to help. 4.8k wordcount

Content: reader with feminine pronouns, sexual tension, fluff, partial nudity, boys getting shy about said nudity, mutual pining, self-doubt, idiots in love, getting sick, friends to lovers, discussions on medical neglect, mentions of chronic pain, descriptions of chronic pain (slightly implied hand kink???)

Very self indulgent selfiship coded x reader with a reader with scoliosis and joint issues to help me deal with feelings about own deterioration and struggles with findin a doc who’ll listen lol 🥲

Side note- this ended up much longer than I originally planned 😅 so this might end up being like 3 parts with MAYBE some spice ^v^

-You are a student at the academy in the arts and humanities department, a year below Jayce and Viktor, and you have worked your ass off to get here.

-You and Viktor have always gotten along; you were both from Zaun, both scholarship students, and both passionate about your work.

-Viktor introduced you to Jayce shortly after they partnered up, and the three of you become nearly inseparable.

-despite not even sharing a major, you found yourself in the lab during most of your free time, bantering and tossing ideas around, or sometimes quietly working on your own projects.

-for as long as Viktor’s known you, you’ve been energetic and passionate, but recently you’ve been acting a bit differently. Quieter, more despondent. You visited less frequently, and you seemed constantly exhausted.

-the change was gradual, how you seemed a bit more sluggish, had been walking a bit more slowly, movements a bit more calculated. And then one day, you tripped on the stairs while heading to the lab, a sharp pain having shot through your knee.

-you shrugged it off, insisting that you were fine and that it was just a bit slippery, but both of them could tell something was up.

-Jayce was actually the first to notice: how you constantly adjusted your gait, how you would wince at times when standing up, how you consistently had to correct your posture. Something was causing you pain, and you were trying to hide it.

-you were stubborn, and fiercely independent, and as such they were deterred from prying too much

-Viktor was the one who pointed out another clue: your clothes were always long and baggy, as if you were trying to hide something bulky beneath it. He could have even sworn seeing you looking a bit longer than usual at his leg brace one morning.

-in spite of how stubborn you were, they still cherished you greatly. which meant they could not allow you to go on like that,

-and all while they were brainstorming how to breach the topic, you were getting worse.

-the pain made it hard to sleep, the dull aching of the muscles around your spine needling you awake any time you began to drift off. You could feel you knees grinding and creaking with every step up the stairs. Your homemade remedies and exercises could only do so much to help, and you can only take so many pain pills a day.

-you were sick of being dismissed by upper city doctors, who claimed you were “too young” to have such issues, or chalked it up to stress or poor exercise. You had been dealing with these things since you were a child. But you were always told when you grew up, you would get better; stronger even. Now in your twenties, you look back bitterly, having only gotten weaker.

-you had a pair of simple, worn out compression braces for your knees. It had been patched and reinforced so many times that they were god awful to look at, not to mention the embarrassment you felt simply having to keep using them after all this time. They were easily covered up by the long skirts and baggy pants you usually wore.

-aside from that, you had an old, ill fitting corset that you used to attempt some semblance of support for your back. But it was all becoming too much. You had to get help, and soon, before it got even worse.

-as much as you didn't want to burden them, you had no other ideas left.

-right when you came to visit, both of them were already there, discussing the situation.

-perhaps it was the fatigue that made you finally cave, or maybe it was the longing to feel less alone in your pain. Regardless, you found yourself shuffling into the lab with all the energy of a cadaver.

—

“Is it really our place to ask though? If she’s being secretive, maybe there’s a deeper reason…” Jayce was pacing, tossing ideas back and forth in his head. “I mean, isn’t it a bit rude to just…ask out of the blue?” He sighs. “You may have a point, but we know her, Jayce” Viktor rose from his seat, interrupting the path of his partner’s pacing to place a reassuring hand on his arm.

“I…I know, I just-“

He was cut of by the sound of the door creaking open. Speak of the devil.

You looked tired, dark circles much more prominent than usual, and there seemed to be a touch of…anxiety?

“…hey guys. Been a minute.” You smiled weakly as you walked toward them. They looked between each other, as if trying to will the other to say something first. But before either of them could, you spoke up.

“I….you know I hate to ask but… I need your help”

“Of course! You know we’d do anything to help you out, what’s wrong?” Jayce pipes up, smoothly steering you toward a chair. Viktor quietly observes how you slump in relief, despite your posture remaining oddly stiff.

“I…well, uh….” You hang your head and sigh, as you struggle to get the words out “…do you know any good doctors? Preferably unbiased ones?” You muster a dry chuckle. They both furrow their brows in concern. “Of course, but what seems to be the issue?” Viktor chimes in, coming over to stand closer to you. You sigh, eyes once again lingering on his brace and his cane. “It…well it may just be easier to show you.”

You adjust yourself in the chair, and begin pulling up the hem of your long skirt. The two men freeze- you can tell they’re caught off guard by their faces as you do, and you can’t help but laugh a little. You bunch it up in your lap and their eyes land on your patchwork braces. Viktor’s eyes soften sympathetically, and you look away.

“…how long?” He steps closer to get a better look, and the proximity flusters you a bit. Jayce, follows suit, kneeling in front of you. You can them actively going into scientist mode, as you affectionately called it; eyes scanning and assessing your handiwork- or rather, the *failure*of your handiwork. You hesitate with your answer for a moment, eyes flitting between your two friends. There was nothing but sincere concern in their eyes, and you almost felt a bit guilty for not talking to them sooner.

“…not really sure, probably since I was a kid…but it’s only been getting worse. The damn things barely seem to work these days” you grumble, shifting your weight in discomfort. “And I…well I’d show you my back brace too but uh…that can probably wait” you trailed off, face getting warm at the mere thought of having to take your shirt off in front to the two men. You almost swore you saw a tinge of pink to Viktor’s ears as he cleared his throat, but perhaps it was just the light.

“Well, we’re not doctors….but if you don’t mind, would you let us have a closer look?” Jayce asks earnestly as he looks up at you, and you nod. He quickly clears a spot for you on the work table, and gestures for you to hop up. You hesitate for a moment, wearily eyeing the two of them before situating yourself on the table.

If there’s one thing to be said about those two, it’s that they’re efficient. After having you remove your old braces, they immediately set to work sketching, brainstorming, and most importantly- assessing your condition. They ask you more about your condition: is the pain sharp or dull? What tasks or activities aggravate it? How long has it been worsening? Do you take any medications for the pain? Do you have a diagnosis?

Much to your embarrassment the answers were difficult to muster. Most doctors topside would scoff, say you looked healthy enough and that you were too young for such issues, and send you on your way without so much as an exam. “Perhaps you aren’t active enough” or “it’s likely just stress” were the most common responses. This much attention being paid toward you was…odd almost. Refreshing, comforting even, but odd nonetheless.

“Y'know, for a while I was convinced I was just being dramatic… that’s what my last doctor said anyways. So it’s nice to be taken seriously for once!” You beamed as Viktor took notes. At those words, however, his pencil abruptly stopped. Jayce also looked up from the diagram he was sketching with a furrowed brow.

“I’m sorry…your doctor said what?” Viktor inquired, his tone tight and clipped. It quickly dawned on you that you had never seen him look so angry before, let alone on your behalf. It almost made you want to shrink away from that piercing gaze. Instead, you blinked, slowly repeating yourself before elaborating.

“Uh…yeah. My doctor wouldn’t give me a diagnosis or refer me elsewhere, and instead just recommended more exercise…” you scoff mirthlessly at the memory, how you felt so foolish and alone in that office under the doctor’s condescending gaze.

“…needless to say, I don’t see him anymore, aha…ha” you try to fill the silence with an awkward laugh, but neither of them laugh with you.

“And this… happens often? You’re dismissed like that?” Jayce asks, eyes fixed on your legs. It was strange for you to see the two of them so tense, especially on your behalf. You nodded, with a dejected grimace.

“…they usually think someone like me is after painkillers, so I get it- I really do. And it’s true that it’s odd for someone my age to be…well, like this-“ you gesture vaguely to yourself and to your discarded braces with a bitter expression.

“But… I just can’t tough it out like I used to. Even if I am being dramatic” you sigh, the mere act of explaining your situation only furthering your fatigue. “I…I’m sorry, didn’t mean to upset you with my sob story-“

“Don’t apologize.” Viktor cuts you off, his voice gentle, but firm. “Never apologize for this. It was wrong of them to neglect you.” He sets down his notepad next to you on the table, eyeing your old braces with disdain. “I know all too well what it is like. So do not apologize for seeking a solution to your pain.” His tone went soft, gentler than you’d ever heard him. There was none of the usual sass or clinical edge to his words, and in turn it made you feel softer as well. It reminded you why you had come for their help in the first place.

These were your friends- and they would do anything to help you.

“Vik is right. We’re not mad at you, we’re mad at those idiot doctors for not doing their jobs!” Jayce chimes in. It makes you smile, despite the odd urge to cry. Instead of risking tears by attempting to respond, you simply nodded once more. “Once we’re done in here I’ll get you the contact info for my doctor. She’s good at what she does, and Viktor’s been to her a few times. Sounds good?”

You smile, your unease slowly ebbing away

“Yeah, sounds like a plan!”

“So, let’s get to work shall we?”

—

-The two men quickly resumed their work with a new fervor. A prototype sketch was done within the hour, and all that was left before the first draft could be made was the measurements. You knew this part might be a tad awkward. What you did not know, is how unbothered the two of them were when it came to personal space while they were in “work mode”.

-You sat on the table, skirt hiked up to your mid thighs as the two of them sat before you with a measuring tape and a pad of paper, delicately handling each leg as they measured. And soon enough , they began to bicker over the design.

-and you quickly learned that your friends were very hands on with their brainstorming.

“It does not need to be that long, her condition is much different than mine, so the brace must be different as well!” Long fingers slid up your calf, resting just under your knee, gently holding it higher as if to show Jayce his error. “The brace should end here, not there” he asserted, drawing invisible lines over your shin and a few inches above your knee. It took a lot of willpower not to shudder at the sensation. “Any longer and it would be bulky and cumbersome, which is what we are seeking to avoid”

Viktor’s hands were cold, and rougher than you expected, no doubt from years of tinkering and inventing. You were not going to lie to yourself and say you hadn’t stared at them before, as he wrote or worked on prototypes. You also couldn’t say you hadn’t thought about them more…intimately either. How they would feel on your bare skin. But as he drew his invisible schematic on your leg, all your curiosities were answered as you let out a small gasp.

The feeling was nice. A little too nice.

He stopped instantly, looking up with worry.

“I am sorry, did I hurt you? I will be gentler…”

“Ah! N-no I’m fine! Your…uh…your hands are just a bit cold…” you manage to stammer out. There was no way in hell you could tell him the real reason.

“Apologies… I didn’t think about that…” he sheepishly put your leg back down and returned to his notes. Once you were free from the tantalizing sensation of his fingers tracing your skin, you were quickly shackled once more by the feeling of Jayce’s hand cupping your other leg.

“I get that it’s different V, but I’m trying to be practical for day to day wear. If it’s too short, it’ll keep sliding out of place throughout the day! It should start here and end here. So that it’s less likely to ride up or down during the course of the day.”

You could barely process what he was saying, as you were too fixated on the fact that his hand; his very warm hand that was nearly large enough to wrap around your calf, was now resting dangerously high on your leg, just below where you had gathered your skirt into your lap. Any higher and he’d be properly groping your thigh.

Jayce’s hands were rough as well, with quite a few prominent calluses and healed scrapes. The sensation of his palm on the sensitive skin of your thigh sent electricity through your nerves-tingly and warm.

And again. You’d be a liar if you claimed you’d never thought about it. But in a situation like this, sleep deprived and fatigued as you were, it was much more difficult to ignore that fact. The reality of his hands on you made your head spin.

Remain calm. Remain professional.

These are your friends. They are just trying to help.

Damn them for being so pretty

“Well, what do you think?”

“Yes, which do you like better?”

The questions snapped you out of your internal crisis.

“Huh? Oh, right! Uh….” It was difficult to form an answer with the both of them looking up at you so expectantly.

“Is…is there no middle ground? Maybe a m-mix of both?” You offer feebly. They look between each other competitively, before looking once more at their individual notes, and then back to you.

“I…suppose it could be done.” Was all Viktor was able to concede. Knowing how particular he could be, it was the best Jayce was going to get.

“Sorry if we got carried away…you know how we get” Jayce chuckled. “But now that that is out of the way, we can take a look at your back brace now.” He began absentmindedly caressing your leg with his thumb, a reassuring gesture no doubt. Viktor was doing something similar, his hand back under the crook of your knee. But the sensation, and the proximity made you tense up as you averted your gaze.

For a split second, confusion crossed his face-before he realized what he was doing. Jayce abruptly stood up, pulling his hand away. Now it was his turn to chuckle awkwardly, gesturing to Viktor to release your other leg as well. Viktor blinked, looking between you and Jayce, before looking down at the somewhat intimate position the two of you were currently in. He quickly followed suit, scooting his chair back and busying his hands with more notetaking, his ears definitely pink this time.

-you decided to promptly disregard their reactions. You were friends after all! Surely there was nothing else going on right? Anyone would get a little flustered in that kind of position. Your friends didn’t see you like that…right?

-besides, you could’ve sworn they had something going on with each other anyways…

-to remain productive (and totally not because you couldn’t look them in the eye) you got off of the table and promptly told them to turn around so you could get your sweater off

-they quickly complied, and the room was quiet aside from the rustling of clothes.

-not having a proper back brace, you had modified an old underbust corset with additional boning. But now you were starting to outgrow it once again, and there’s only so many times you could take it out before needing to find a new one.

-all you really wore beneath it was a thin slip so that the corset wouldn’t chafe your skin, but it was so flimsy you might as well have just been topless

And there you stood, hands on the table, under the white light of the overhead lamp. You shuddered as the cold air of the lab set in, and your own overthinking sent goosebumps over your exposed skin.

be normal. this is normal.

"Alright, now hurry up I'm getting cold-" you hiss, breaking the silence. You do not turn around, but you can feel their gaze on you; a moment of hesitation before you hear them approach. They are assessing you, yes, but there was something else beneath that as the two scientists raked their eyes over you: something you couldn’t quite place.

Viktor breaks the silence first, clearing his throat. Your eyes are still fixed on the table, the sudden sound causing you to flinch ever so slightly. You hope neither of them noticed. “Well…the design could definitely be worse, I can see where you tried to improve upon it…”

there was a but coming at the end of that sentence. You could feel it.

“But, In the long run it may end up doing more harm than good, considering the state of the garment itself…” he gently taps the row of tattered lacing running down the back. You nod, willing your voice not to crack. “So- what should we do? It’s all I can really afford at the moment…”

“Don’t worry about that- we’re more worried about making sure whatever we come up with is comfortable” Jayce chimes in, retrieving his measuring tape and notepad once more.

“Now, I need you to stand with your back as straight as possible for a moment, can you do that?” You nod, and you can feel him directly behind you as you straighten up. It’s uncomfortable, and you hear a few soft, telltale cracks as you do it. You groan quietly, and you feel him still for a moment.

“…don’t worry about it, just do what you gotta do.” You mumble, shifting your weight between your feet.

“Ah-uh- right! Right…” he laughs it off as he proceeds with his measurements and notes, quick, methodical, and very gentle. Every so often, skin would brush skin, his warm touch would linger, and you became increasingly aware of just how warm he was behind you: like a human space heater. It would be so easy in your exhausted state to simply lean back and melt into his chest, to bask in the warmth amidst the cold air of the lab and fall blissfully asleep.

Instead, with every ounce of composure you had, you avoided dozing off or leaning back. You could feel your eyes getting heavier before the deep timbre of Jayce’s voice brought you back.

“Alright, that’s done. You can rest now.”

You immediately slouch with a sluggish sigh, and you can nearly hear the furrowing of brows and the concerned expressions occurring behind you.

“We can stop if you are too fatigued, we should have enough to get started…” Viktor offered up, now nearly as close as Jayce was. You shook your head, taking a deep breath.

“No, no, I’m fine! It’s better to get this all over with now and save you both the trouble! So what next, huh?” You dredge up any remaining scraps of what could be perceived as enthusiasm as you turn your head to smile at Viktor.

The prospect of doing this again on a different day was already increasing your heartrate to an uncomfortable degree. Believe it or not; being examined by your two incredibly handsome scientist friends while half naked was something very anxiety inducing . Especially when you’ve been ignoring your growing feelings for said aforementioned handsome scientist friends. You felt awful for these thoughts and feelings, of course you did. So what better way to deal with this dilemma than to get it over with as quickly as possible. Right?

Wrong.

“Well, the last thing we really need is uh… well.” Jayce cleared his throat, carefully choosing his next words. “We’d want to get a look at your spine without your brace on, and take a few final measurements…”

Wrong. Dead wrong.

“… you need me to take it off?” You forced a nonchalant tone, unsure if it was convincing.

“Right. The measurements with it on will be slightly skewed since it is ill fitting in the first place…” Viktor added, a twinge of anxiety to his explanation. “But of course, only if you are comfortable doing so!” He quickly added. You began to spiral

Would it be weird to say yes? It would be more awkward if I refuse right? We’re all friends, this is fine! This is in a completely clinical context as well, so-

“Sure. No worries, uh-just… gimme a sec?” You blurted out before overthinking further, your hands leaving the table to fumble with the front closure of the corset. Your friends immediately averted their gaze, but did not completely turn around. Rather than dwelling on it, you focused on trying to get the busks open, before realizing you had laced it a bit tighter than usual that morning, thus making it a bit more difficult to get out of. You would need help. Great. You sigh.

“Uh… could one of you unlace me? It’s harder to get out of like this….”

The quiet that follows makes you cringe, and sets you a bit on edge, before Viktor pipes up behind you.

“Y-yes just a second”

You soon feel his cool hands against your back, nimble fingers finding the messy knot that kept your laces tight and marking short work of it. All three of you were quiet; no banter, no chatting, no bickering. Just the soft sound of laces being pulled through worn down grommets. Once it was loosened, you let out a breath it felt like you had been holding for a lifetime, slouching a bit as your back screamed at you.

Viktor leaned next to you, softly murmuring as he reassuringly placed a hand on your back. “Is that better?” His voice was low, soft, and held a bit of…restraint? You hoped the heat rising to your face wasn’t too noticeable, as the innocent action sent forth a troubling warmth in your gut. Not unpleasant, far from it. But troubling, given the circumstance.

“Mhm… y-yeah that’s better. Thank you” you murmured back, forcing your attention towards getting your corset off. The busks unhooked with ease as you shrugged off the patchwork garment, as well as your undershirt. As it fell to the floor, you instinctively moved to stretch, now free from the compression of your brace. A series of loud pops and cracks ring out into the lab as you did so, causing you to sigh in a unique mixture of relief and ache that you had grown accustomed to.

Once you had finished, you realized two things:

One: you were now completely topless in front of your two best friends

Two: neither of them had looked away this time.

Which could totally mean nothing

Upon this realization you kept your eyes forward, standing up as straight as you could once more, finding balance on the table.

“…well? go on, g-go ahead and look” you commanded weakly. Swallowing the anticipation that came with not being able to see them. Whose hands would you feel now? Whose breath would tickle your ear? You blamed your lack of sleep for how much your mind was wandering.

You felt a warm finger trace slowly down your spine, down from the nape of your neck, past your shoulder blades, before stopping and slowing down even further, following the unnatural curve that ended toward the middle of your back. It was Jayce, you realized. And a part of you was flustered even further now knowing you could tell it was him by just the feeling of his hands.

There was low murmuring, the sound of pencil on paper, and then Viktor’s hand, tracing from the bottom of your spine through your skirt, to the middle of you back before also stopping.

“…you’re too quiet. It’s unsettling” you manage to quip, starting to feel exposed under the bright light.

“…it’s your spine. You should’ve been fitted with a brace ages ago” Viktor finishes tracing his line up your back “a proper one, no offense to your handiwork of course.” He clarified.

“That bad huh?” You huff, wincing at the implication. You had known there was an issue for years now. But all you could do was your best in terms of treatment and preventative care. Every time it had crossed your mind to get checked out, you heard the condescending doctor’s voice echoing inside your skull: “you’re being dramatic.”

“Luckily, It seems manageable with a proper brace, and you already stretch and exercise, yes?” Viktor inquired behind you, his hand now resting on your shoulder. You hummed affirmatively, as you let yourself slouch once more. You knew it only contributed to your poor posture, but the temporary relief was worth it momentarily. The urge to fall asleep right then and there was overwhelming, even despite the cold. You could feel both of them shuffle back a bit as you did.

“Sorry, sorry! Did we take too long? Are you cold?” Jayce apologizes as he tries to get you warm again, picking up your sweater and getting it right-sides-out again. You let out a sleepy mumble as you reach back for it, turning toward him with your hand out.

Turning toward him.

After a few seconds of facing them with your hand out, and being confused as to why they were just standing there, avoiding your gaze, cheeks getting redder by the second; it hit you.

“Oh-oh shit! sorry, sorry, my bad-” you snatch up your sweater and quickly yank it on and you apologize profusely and so quickly that the words were barely recognizable.

Well, you were wide awake now.

You start rambling, trying to cram how you were cold and sleep deprived and achy all into the world’s fastest sentence as you got yourself together, gathering up your discarded braces. The only thing stopping you from bolting out of the door was the grinding of your now fully unsupported knees. You winced as you pitifully shuffled back to your chair, moving to put the braces back on.

The air was thick with…something.

It wasn’t quite tension, and although being a bit awkward it wasn’t quite full on embarrassment either. But it was something, and it was intense.

“….I’ll get going then…“ you murmur, standing on unsteady legs. Except now you weren’t sure if you were unsteady because of the pain, or because of the dizzying memory of their hands on your skin.

For a moment, your fatigue catches up to you; your legs feel like static and your vision blurs around the edges. Before you even have the chance to stumble, Jayce’s arms are around you.

“Easy there! Just give us a second, we’ll get you back to your dorm okay?”

“But-“ you were cut off by the sound of Viktor shushing you and guiding you over to a couch in the corner of the lab. The two men eyed you with a seriousness that felt strange in comparison to your usual lighthearted interactions. But it was oddly comforting now, as you let yourself sink into the plush sofa

“Rest for a while, you don’t have any more classes today, right?” It was less of a question and more of a reminder, as he retrieved a blanket to drape over you. You really had no say in the matter, and the couch was so comfortable….

You felt relieved, cared for, and so so very sleepy...

So you fell asleep.

Once you were certifiably slumbering, your two impromptu caregivers let out shuddering breaths they hadn't realized they were holding, exchanging knowing glances.

Little did you know, they had been struggling just as much as you, if not more.

"....Let's get back to work." Viktor mumbled, forcing his eyes away from your relaxed form on the couch. He gripped his cane tightly as he turned away, retrieving his notes. Upon noticing Jayce hadn't moved yet, he huffed at having to repeat himself.

"Jayce."

"Right! sorry..." Jayce nodded, slowly backtracking to the main worktable. Couldn't help the deja vu that hit him as he remembered your topless form leaning against it, illuminated under the overhead light. He groaned and shook his head.

"Heaven knows we need the distraction."

--------

tadaaa*~~~ took me long enough! p2 will be up relatively soon, i just needed to stop nitpicking.

part two will be primarily from the boys' POV!

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4

-----------

That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 

But he couldn't be further than wrong 

Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.

—-----------------

“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.

“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.

“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 

So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 

—--------------

“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.

“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.

“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.

“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.

“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.

“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.

“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.

“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.

“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.

“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.

“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.

“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.

“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.

“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.

“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.

—-----------

So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.

One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.

It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.

John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.

You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 

“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 

“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.

John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?

—-------------

“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.

“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.

You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.

“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.

“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.

“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.

“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.

“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.

“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.

“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.

“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 

You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.

—----------

You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.

“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.

“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.

“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.

“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.

“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.

“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 

“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 

“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.

----------------------

comments and reposts and appreicated <3

thankyou for all the love on this story so far.

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy

@rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22

[deadghosy]

（TEDDY）THEODORE NOTT

Teddy, a nickname you call Theodore nott. A Slytherin boy who seemed to have girls hooked on him for his handsome looks and dead eyes. Usually you didn’t see the catch at all. Probably because you’re his best friend. Aside from all that, Theodore is mostly seen around you. Behind you, from your left to your right. Hell even in front of you when talking.

That glint his eyes always appear when you’re talking to him. He always seemed like you were the only person there. And he liked that. He liked how you rant about your days, rant about your hyper fixations. Just anything. Your voice was like music, it helps him focus on the only thing important. You. Right as now Theodore was staring at you from afar. You were talking to your friend. He smiled while wobbling his head a little. God you were so beautiful from afar even, like a renaissance painting.

“Mate, you’re staring at them again..” mattheo said elbowing the tall Slytherin out of his daydream. Theodore pushed Mattheo from him. “I know that…” he says with a grumble. Mattheo snickered, “when are you gonna stop being a wuss and ask them out already. I heard a ravenclaw was gonna ask them out later today.” Theodore narrowed his eyes at his other best friend who seemed to just grin. “You’re lying aren’t you?” He asked looking at the riddle. “Riddle me this Theodore. Do you wanna get to them first, or let some raven do it for you.”

The tension was now evident as Theo shuffled a little on his feet. Mattheo had a serious look while lighting up as cigarette. “Cmon bud, it ain’t that hard.”

But it was.

Theodore couldn’t rest in 2 nights thinking about you getting asked out by another person. The thought of you just being with someone made his stomach bubble and sick. He wanted to just throw these feelings away. What if you don’t like him. He couldn’t do this. He sat up in his bed and pushed his hair back breathing a little heavy. The room was so quiet he could hear his heartbeat. He could even fucking feel it beating. “Mattheo..” Mattheo snores in response. Theodore says the boy’s name a little louder only to hear another snore. “Mattheo!” That’s when Theodore thrown a pillow at him starting the poor riddle awake. “ADVA- WHAT WHAT?? What’s going on mate??” He says disoriented after realizing it was just Theodore who woke him up. “Who’s the ravenclaw going to ask out Y/N??” Mattheo immediately groaned. “I was lying..now let me sleep.” Mattheo immediately and indeed go back to sleep while Theodore sighed in relief. Now he knows he had to do something quick.

So the best thing to do was get you alone with him so he can confess. It was casual for him to be with you when walking to class, so why stop there. As you were talking about your day. You called him that name again. “Teddy.” It seemed to give him an idea as he just smiled listening to you. “So you found her a gift? And you’re gonna confess to her, with the gift?” Mattheo asked looking at a brown teddy that had a Slytherin uniform and a wand. “Sì.” “Dude…this might work.” Mattheo smiled patting the taller Slytherin in his shoulder. “I just hope they like it…” “they will.”

After getting hyped up by his wing man, he walked to your dorm where he knew you were studying. He took a deep in before knocking, patiently waiting he heard footsteps. That’s when the door open for him to see the most beautiful thing to live on earth. You were smiling seeing him. “Teddy!” You hugged him around his neck. His one arm wrapping it self around you as his other was holding the bear. “Heyyy tesoro.” You let him in your dorm. He took every scent that was yours as it was around the dorm of yours. “Omg Theo you would not believe the tea I heard today.” He chuckled sitting on your bed, still hiding the teddy as you ranted about how some girl in the ravenclaw house has started to date some gryffindor. You explained how the relationship was actually toxic in the end. As you moved to sit next to Nott, that’s when he showed you the teddy bear.

“Here…” he says with a slight smile. You immediately smile with a flustered look. “Aww..thank you..I love this.” You looked up to Nott who was staring at you with admiration in his eyes. “Why..did you give me this?” You say with a look in your eyes. “It’s just..I, I always wanted to give you something. You told me how not much people in your life has given you a gift..” your heart started to melt as he continued talking. “And since you call me Teddy at times, why not buy you a teddy.” Immediately Theodore held your hand. “But really, I want to say is I love you.” Your eyes widen, your heart started to pound. You didn’t expect this. You had always fell inlove with Theodore when you two were in first year. But to now hear that he likes you too felt like a dream.

“Every time you talk. It’s like music to me, you make me feel as if I’m home. Your beauty strikes me every time I look at you, my heart…stops. Every single time cause you take my breath away.” He says to you. Your eyes water with a soft smile. You immediately put the teddy bear down and hug Theodore. Theodore froze for a second before hugging you close to his body. It was like you two were pieces of puzzle put together once again. “Thank you for the teddy, teddy.” “No problem amore mio.”

He’s your teddy after all…

[jensthwa]

mountebank chem pt. four (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x afab!rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 24.1k.

WARNINGS & TAGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, dual pov (both yunho's and reader's), use of fem pronouns sometimes, angsty angst that angsts in the form a verbal fight, tears, unresolved feelings and denial, tension, a heartfelt conversations with bro and lots of yearning!, a time jump (three months or so), mingi and love being unhelpful but helpful at the same time, yeosang being a cutie pie and a little bit of his story gets mentioned!, the L word, confessions, apologies, mentions of body dysmorphia and body related insecurities, soft!dom yunho (he's a little bossy), switch!reader (oc hates to let him win i guess), reader has breasts and a vagina, mirror play, teasing, light choking, messy kisses and makeouts, masturbation (f), just the tiniest bit of voyeurism, praise kink if you squint oh my god, fingering, multiple orgasms, love making (who else cried), the post-sex convo and more feelings and dreams are discussed.

NOTES: hi everyone! WE MADE IT!!!!! here's part four of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH. after this, there's an epilogue/little part five to let everyone know sort of what happens after this + to set up the next story in the universe. i also just want to adress that one of you kindly suggested to change up some of the terminology i use in the warnings and for some other things in the fic itself and i thank that person a lot! but i also want to encourage you, if you feel something's missing or if i can do anything to be more inclusive in my stories, to let me know! i hope you all enjoy it part four of mbc, we've come a looong way and i'm happy on how this turned out. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: february 2nd 2025.

taglist: @kyunlov, @tinyelfperson, @0115degrees, @daniela-f-uwu, @ultrapinkvoidbouquet, @kyeomooniee, @fairylover68, @sushiinmidnight, @qveenbunni, @calmoistorm, @potatomountain, @svintsandghosts, @lemonkait00, @blue5ummer, @fancypeacepersona, @hyukssunflower, @i-love-ateez, @alsomimi, @e3ellie, @st3ft0n3s, @hotteokkay, @xylatox

masterlist - part one - part two. part three.

You dream about him. Every night. 

His mouth on yours and his hands handling you with care fill the gray matter of your brain and rots it. It fits you. 

A rotten brain for a rotten person. 

The scenario repeats in a loop in your head even when you're awake, alone in your house office, accompanied by staff at the main office building. It doesn't really matter what you're doing, who you're with or if the task at hand requires your full attention, Yunho still invades your mind and makes you feel like you're leaping, flying through skies and then falling, falling, falling, before hitting the ground hard. 

Because at the end of the memory, it plays what you did. 

The way you pulled away, the way you left him there without a proper explanation. 

You didn't have dinner with your brother, it was over nine o'clock at night. You needed an escape goat, a plan, an excuse to flee from the happiness you grasped with your sticky, messy, disgusting fingers. 

Everything you touch seems to turn to shit. 

So you can't touch Jeong Yunho even if you want to. 

You shan't, you won’t, even when he’s so close to you it takes a lot for you to hold back. He’s a message away, a meeting away from you. And his messages on your phone kept piling up this week until they didn’t. 

And now, as you watch him enter the meeting in a suit and tie, you do your best to pretend nothing happened between you even though it's supposed to. To everyone else's eyes, you’re still a couple. 

You’re grateful for that. You don’t sit together, you can’t sit together. Of course you can't, that would be very unprofessional. You can't voice your opinion about any decisions made by his team (or rather, his brother's team) today because that would look like you're doing it to either spite him or to be on your boyfriend's side, it would look like corruption! 

God bless the stupid societal and corporate norms. You won't even have to speak to him today, if you're lucky. You know he's shadowing his brother today, learning his way through these meetings you've been attending for years or at least pretending to do so.

There's absolutely no reason to speak to him today. 

Yay. 

Soohyun sits at your left, at the head of the table, and Yunho sits with his brother at Soohyun’s left. Neither your father or his are here today so everyone’s shoulders are a little less tense and the meeting is a quarterly one, which means people are going to be explaining graphics and reading numbers you have to stay focused on. 

There's things you have to write down, there's statements you have to whisper in your brother's ear so he can say them out loud instead of you. 

But Yunho looks way too good in his suit and tie and it's a little distracting. 

And he's looking right at you, too. 

You can hear your co-workers immediately gossiping about it, you can see your brother turn to you, then to him, then to you and you can faintly see how he raises a brow. Faintly, because you're pretending to read over some papers in front of you by the time he bumps your leg to try and catch your attention. 

You step on his foot under the table, he mutters an offended ouch and pinches your arm in retaliation, which causes you to stop pretending to eye the documents and turn to him. 

“Stop it.” 

“You started it,” he says and then Soohyun gives you that look that lets you know he knows something you don't, although it can possibly be like that because he's a clueless little shit. “Did something happen between yo—” 

Well, maybe not as clueless. Good thing you wore great heels today, the face he makes as he's trying to pretend that the sharp end of your Louis Vuitton is not stabbing him in the leg feels like a victory. 

“Keep quiet, the meeting is starting.” 

Oh, how you love winning. 

The thing is, you can't even enjoy it now. Yunho’s face pops up on your mind again and it serves as a reminder of just how close he is. 

As someone from the sales team starts their presentation, your eyes drift to Yunho in a way that feels oddly familiar. 

There, trying to stay upright even though you know he's zoning everything out, there's this memory from your junior year in highschool that never tortured you the way it does now. 

Although he's always been very tall, Yunho used to sit near the window, in the second row of the classroom you both shared that year. Not his decision, certainly whoever made that decision was not the sharpest tool on the shed because all he did was look out of the window and close his eyes when the teachers were not paying enough attention to him. 

And you used to stare at him just like you're doing now. Through the corner of your eye, with your back straightened and ninety percent of your attention on the topic at hand. He held the other ten percent, tenderly, softly, without realizing what he was doing. 

Just like he held you that night. 

At the time, you wondered what went on in his head every time he drifted away from the class. New ways of making your life impossible? A new insult to your integrity, maybe? Highschool Yunho was everyone's dream but, for you, he meant nothing but nightmares and headaches. 

Nothing has changed much. 

But instead of wondering if he's thinking about new ways of pestering you with his presence, now your heart races at the possibility of him thinking about the kisses you two shared last week. 

You hope no one notices the sudden shift on the chair or the gulp you make to keep your emotions buried deep down inside of you, where no one can reach them. 

Trying to regain focus and ignore Yunho completely, you look at the projected graphics in front of you. The person doing the presentation turns to the next slide as soon as you're beginning to understand what the hell they're talking about. Surprisingly, your brother turns to whisper at you about it. 

“The new company sales are lower than expected.” 

When you turn fully to him, you can see he's biting his cheek in concerned concentration. You want to roll your eyes. 

“I told dad no one would care about this company and you were the one who approved for us to go forward with it.” 

“I know.” 

“Dumbass,” you whisper, scrunching your nose and turning to the presentation again but your brother nudges you slightly and you have to look at him again. 

Only for your eyes to completely bypass him and land in Yunho. 

God fucking damnit.

Is this what having a crush is like? Is tortuous and you hate this even more than when you couldn't stand seeing his face out of pure annoyance. 

This is why you probably never had a crush on anyone before. But it's strange, because it doesn't feel like something new. Yes, Yunho attending meetings is new but the feeling is familiar and grossly nostalgic of something you feel like you left behind.

And now has come back in full force. 

You never had a crush on Yunho, at least not that you know of. 

But this feeling is telling you otherwise and it's maddening and disgusting and— 

“Something definitely happened, hm?” 

Eyes flicking over your brother's sudden concerned expression, you push back on the seat and sink in it a little. This way, when you look up to him, Yunho is nowhere in sight. When you speak again, you make sure only Soohyun hears you. 

“We can save it, don't worry about it. I'll write up a proposal of how we can market the concept of the company in a way that it at least piques people's interest.” 

Your brother huffs, unsatisfied with your deflection and the way you visibly close up at the mere thought of telling him if something did happen between you and Yunho. 

But he says nothing. It stings that you know he's going to leave it at that, the support you're supposed to have slipping through your fingers as you do your best to keep your feelings to yourself. It's not his fault, not really. 

He doesn't know any better. 

You don't know any better, either. 

But your focus on the meeting comes back and you end it with thirteen pages of virtual notes and a list of things you need to do today to keep this shitshow of a company afloat. 

There's a split second when you get out of the room that you feel Yunho’s eyes on you. You're afraid he's going to take the opportunity to talk to you, so you look up and around trying to find something, someone you can use as a distraction, as a shield. 

But then there's like four pairs of hands dragging him away and you see that annoyed glint in his eye, usually reserved for you, as they turn him around and away from you. 

Yes, of course they wouldn't let him speak to you right now. He's shadowing his brother, he has important things to do! 

Yay. 

You ignore the beating of your heart as you move quickly through the halls. Soohyun and Gunho are already aiming for the elevator so you opt for the stairs, knowing you won't have to speak to anyone at all if you get to your office like this. 

Well, Soohyun's office. You have yours on a lower floor, not as unnecessary space-taking as his, but you usually work there because you enjoy the view. 

So when you finally close the door behind you and the view is blocked by thirty piled up boxes you start thinking that the universe is upset with you. Is this your karma? Everything and everyone against you just because you walked out of a kiss before making a mistake? 

Is not like Yunho cares that much about you anyway!

Huffing, you look around the room until your eyes land on that stupid tree you started painting when Soohyun told you he wanted to redecorate his office. Its branches extend just a little more than what you remember and there’s a part of it that was unfinished the last time you saw it. You can only assume either Seonghwa or your brother had something to do with it.

Which sucks. 

Because you’re so painting over the stupid tree one day. 

You stare at it while your mind wanders. Head slowly filling up with noise, you finally feel at ease when your thoughts are nothing but work: You need to write up a proposal to that stupid vintage-esque focused company to see if there’s some salvation for it. You need to speak with marketing, get one of them to go along the process with you. You need to sit down with your brother and kindly tell him to never allow something like this to ever happen again. 

Making a mental list to organize and prioritize everything you need to do, you barely register footsteps echoing in the long hall. You should’ve, because it’s lunchtime and there’s no one on the floor, but you don’t. 

And so when the person you least want to see comes through the door and lets out a heavy sigh, you turn to him like he grew a second nose over the course of the twenty minutes you last saw each other. 

“I hate it here, I truly do.” 

It almost makes you want to laugh, but you remain stoic as you move through the office. You take a few boxes and you put them down on the floor until there’s some light leaking through the window and illuminating the space enough for it not to give you a headache as you work. 

Sitting on your brother's chair, barely sparing him another glance before turning on the desk computer and pulling up an empty document. You click and tap a few meaningless things: You pick the font, you mess with the font size for a second before setting it back to its default. Anything to help you look busy and not like your heart is going a million miles per second. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” 

Blurry, in the background, you can see him look around the office, probably taking the mess in. He moves too, walks until his expensive shoes are tip to tip  with a literal mannequin resting against the wall. 

You stop paying attention as you write the date and the proposal title. Something simple, something that both your father and the CEO of the dumb not-approved-by-you company that has you in this predicament can understand. You hate to say that you assume they’re not very smart if they put out such a dated and non profitable idea for their company. 

Still, you try to address Yunho like nothing’s bothering you and like you’re not nervous you two are in a room alone after everything that went down. 

“You can ask Seonghwa what that means,” you start, sighing like his friend and your brother are hopeless. Because maybe that’s what they are. “They’re not running any ideas by me even though I’m the one that spends the most time in this office, so.” 

“Hm,” he starts and you can hear him walking around, but your focus is now on the first few words of the proposal. You realize there’s really nothing you can start before speaking with marketing and so you open the notes app, to have a list of ideas to run through them at least. “Thought you worked from home.” 

“I do. I have an office three floors down, too.” It’s easy sharing information with him now, especially if it means there’s something to talk about that’s not… Well, the kiss. “I hate it, it’s in a corner and people can see into it. It’s easier to work here.” 

“And Soohyun hyung doesn’t mind?”

“Considering he’s never here, I doubt it.” 

“Cool, cool.” 

There’s something in his tone that makes you want to look up, lump in your throat growing in size enough for you to cough it away. You don’t look up, you can’t look up even if you’ve misspelled the word rebrand like four times already. 

But then the light you managed to cast onto the space disappears completely. You feel something besides you, the soft material of an expensive suit blazer grazing your arm and cheek. You see veiny, masculine hands secure themselves around the arms of the chair before he’s turning you to face him. 

You gulp. 

He’s leaning down close, closer than he should be, closer than what he’s allowed to be considering anyone can walk in on you. You’re flushing, you can feel the redness creep up your neck and heating your ears and face before you gather the courage of raising a questioning brow. Yunho stays silent, his eyes scanning your face and briefly landing on your lips before returning your stare. 

“Can I help you with anything, Yunho?” You ask him again, quieter this time, voice trembling a little. 

“Princess,” he starts, the corner of his lip raising just a little, like it’s funny he has to say what he’s about to say, “are you ghosting me?” 

Shit. 

“Why would you— Why would I—,” a nervous chuckle abandons you and then you huff, trying to seem offended at his accusation, “W-what do you mean by that?” 

Leaning into your space a tiny bit more, he repeats “Are you ghosting me?” 

Creasing your brow, you straighten in the chair but do nothing to pull him away “No.”

“Then what about the ten messages I sent you and you left on delivered?” 

Faking a surprised gasp, you move to take your phone out of the pocket of your jacket and unlock it to swipe through your messages “You did? Oh, my God, I’ve been soooo busy.” 

“You’re shit at lying to me.” 

“I’m not lying to you—” 

“Are you okay?” 

Your eyes snap from the phone to his face, genuine annoyance creasing your eyebrows this time. 

“You don’t have to ask me that everytime you see me, Jeong.” 

“But are you?” He asks as you finally find his chat and open the messages you dreaded to see the entire time that passed. There’s a few of them practically begging you to speak to him, one apologizing for the kiss and the other ones you don’t even see because Yunho is taking the phone from your hand and placing it on the desk next to you. “I mean, what happened didn’t trigger anyth—” 

You hate he’s this considerate with you, even after you clearly walked out of the situation with a poorly formulated excuse.

“What happened was a mistake.” 

Yunho physically deflates and lets the chair go, the tension on your shoulders lifting a little now that he’s not as close. 

“What?” 

“It was a mistake, we shouldn’t have done that. We’re professionally obligated to work together, fake all of this together, so it shouldn’t…” You pause and consider for a bit before doing something you never do: take the blame “I shouldn’t have. I apologize.” 

Letting out a breath, you turn the chair and delete the misspelled rebrand to write it the correct way, heart too weak to even look at his reaction. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re never doing anything like it again. 

You hear him shuffle with the boxes at both your feet and, from the corner of your eye, you see him turning away from you and then back, hands on his hips “I don't think it was a mistake.” 

“Well, it was.” 

“I liked it.” 

That brings out a genuine, short lived laugh out of you “Thank you, I’m a great kisser.” 

You open your brother’s email and pretend there’s an urgent matter inside the contents of one of them until Yunho’s hand closes over yours, over the mouse. 

“Y/N.” 

There’s a lot of things about Jeong Yunho you hate: The swoop of his hair when there’s no gel on it, the free aspect to his nature you’re never going to get even if you try to, that one time he called you an ugly giant after wearing platforms for the first time ever. 

And the sweetness of his voice when he says your name, the plea you hear on it and the shudder it brings to your spirit. It shakes you, it moves you to look at him again, to actually take his feelings into consideration. 

He’s staring at you with so much hurt, it makes your heart sink into an abyss of guilt. 

“Hm?” 

“I think I like you.” 

Oh. 

Oh, no. 

Your heart drowns deeper, your resentment towards the situation grows branches like the tree on the wall. They hug your pride and your ego, they poke you on your side for reciprocating Yunho’s feelings just a little. 

Well, a lot.

“You think?” You ask him and your voice sounds far away. He nods. You stand up from the chair, hand squeezing his before letting drop. “Stop thinking then.” 

His eyes closing shut and his jaw tensing is the last thing you see before you busy yourself with the boxes against the window. You pick up two at a time, heavy and the cardboard smelly as you walk to the other side of the office, away from him. 

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” 

You sigh “So am I, Yunho. You don’t like me, you liked that I kissed you.” 

“Oh, I forgot you know exactly what goes through my mind and my heart, thank you for the remainder!” 

Looking at him over your shoulder, you drop the boxes against the corner wall “Lower. Your. Voice.” 

“No, no. Because that’s not an appropriate response to what I just told you!” He walks towards you and you meet him halfway, heart beating with annoyance at the way he’s speaking to you. He towers over you again, jaw clenched and voice a mere murmur when he speaks again “You have no say in what I feel, how I feel it, when I feel it.” 

“I know I don’t, you idiot. I was just providing you with a bit of perspective.” 

“Perspective?”

“What do you like about me?” Chin up and nose scrunched in a way it only does when you’re really angry, you insist “Why now? Why do you suddenly care? Is it out of pity? Is it because it’s convenient, because we’re already pretending? Is it because you want to fuck me?!”

“Watch it, Y/N.” His tone is laced with clear offense at what you offered just a second ago. 

“You don’t like me,” you start, shaking your head, “you can’t like me.” 

“Why not?!” 

He’s breathing hard, walking backwards, offering up his palms to the sky and looking around the room like any of that is going to give him an answer to his questions. 

“Why not?” He repeats and there’s that hurt in his voice that, for some reason, makes your eyes water. Are you having a panic attack? A heart attack? Everything hurts. Liking Yunho hurts, wanting him hurts. He comes back, his eyes searching yours even though you can’t do anything but cast them down, to your shoes and his shoes and the boxes and the carpet “Why can’t I like you, princess? What’s not to like? What kind of self-deprecating ideas do 

you have in your head that makes you think I can’t care about you like that?”

Shaking your head again and closing your eyes, you are barely able to stifle a sob and force your tears back. You want to tell him that that’s not the reason but you would be lying to him if you did. 

That’s part of the reason. 

Behind the whole letting your mother’s win argument, there’s an undeniable amount of self hatred that can’t let you feel like there’s any truth behind his words. 

Why would he like you? Why would he care about you? 

Your hands are dirty and sticky and your being is way too clumsy, so everything you love drops and breaks and turns to dust before your eyes. The fact that there’s this whole fake relationship deal in the middle of it and you can place the blame on your mothers is a blessing in disguise. 

It’s a weapon you can use. 

Even if you don’t want to: His hands are cradling your face, his forehead dropping against yours and drawing a surprised gasp out of you because you didn’t even feel him get him close. 

“I like you, I care about you,” there’s certainty in his tone, like he made up his mind, like he’s confirming his feelings to both you and himself, “I… I—” He takes a breath when you open your eyes and beg him to not say what you think he’s about to say. He takes the hint. “Do you not like me back, Y/N? Are you trying to… Is that what’s happening?” 

You say nothing, but swallow back your feelings and brace yourself on his forearms, nose budging his as you move a little. 

He reads your silence wrong “Y-you do?” 

You think it matters if you do or not. Your heart is already breaking by the time the words are on the tip of your tongue. 

“We can’t,” you whisper to him, letting your tears wet your cheeks and squeezing his forearms when his thumbs start to move in trying to dry them, shaking your head to signal him to stop. As your eyes catch his, you prepare yourself for the gentleness you’re about to lose, with the care you’re about to push away for his own good. “Because if we do, they win.” 

You didn’t know your heart could break this way, as you watch his expression morph from confusion to pain to utter, genuine anger. It’s the same face he made last week, in your living room, as he yelled at his mother for even daring suggesting that you two should be together. 

There’s a time when hurting Yunho brought you some sense of vengeance, a time where you considered it payback for being that person literally planned and made for you. 

Now, you want to hit your head against the wall for even daring filling his eyes with tears, for being the reason frustration descends and wets his shoes as he looks down. 

“Oh.” 

He lets you go and you miss it. You immediately want to take your words back, push him closer to you, hug him, kiss him, whatever it may be to keep him next to you.

You start to mourn the loss of the bond you were able to form with him right away. 

And it hurts. 

He nods again. And it hurts. “Oh, that’s what this is about.” 

It fucking hurts. When he laughs, hands on his face as he wipes his tears away, you feel like you’re going to pass out. 

“And you don’t care about me enough to tell them to go fuck themselves.” He says, a resentful statement that leaves his lips before a breathy laugh does. 

Opening your mouth, you attempt to contradict his words. That’s not true at all, he has to understand, he understands you, he— He raises his hand to stop you from speaking, he shakes his head like he doesn’t want to hear it. 

Like your excuses, even if he hasn't listened to them at all, are not worth his time. 

“I get it.” No, you don’t. “I understand.” No, you really don’t. 

But you say nothing. As he’s slipping through your fingers like sand, at your own doing, you just stare at him with sorrowful eyes and an apology on your teeth. 

He looks at you like he’s expecting you to stop him as he reaches the door. You want to, you really do. 

You don’t. 

“Thanks for letting me know.”

When the door closes behind him and leaves you alone in an office that’s not really yours, feeling like you’re not yourself, you finally allow the reality of what you just did to hit you. 

Hand shaking, you cover your mouth and let out a sob as you let yourself cry what you just lost. But, as you do, you remind yourself that you don’t really deserve Yunho’s care. 

You don’t really deserve his love. 

Hurting him is probably the easiest way out he has of whatever he thinks he’s feeling for you. 

Walking slowly to the desk, you wipe your tears away and nod to yourself. Yes, this is exactly what needed to happen. Good. Yes. What were you doing before he came in? 

You grab the mouse. 

Ah, the proposal. Of course. 

The noise comes back, louder this time. Unbearable and ear-piercing, it forces you to close your eyes and listen to the beat of your heart before you push the sound away. You can’t afford to crash right now.

You skim through your tasks in your mind and, as you do, the reminder of a little notification you saw on your calendar this morning, with Yunho’s name on it, is what finally lets the panic break through your senses. 

“No.” 

And you spend the rest of the afternoon typing your escape plan away. 

By the time your brother remembers he has an office, it’s dark outside and the proposal is

printed and in a folder placed neatly in the middle of his desk. 

He closes the door, raising an eyebrow at the way you’re resting your shoulder against the window behind his chair, the boxes blocking them all piled up in the corner you initially started moving them to this afternoon. 

“You’re still here.” He muses and you turn to him, scoffing at the obvious. 

“Well, somebody has to work.” 

“I was working,” he sounds a little bit offended, but when he passes in front of you and pulls back his chair to sit on it, you faintly smell whisky and cigarettes. “I was at a meeting in the gentlemen's club with Gunho.” 

“That’s hardly working, Soohyun.” 

Looking over his shoulder, he’s face to face with your unimpressed expression. Of course he went to the stupid club with Gunho, of course he didn’t do shit today. 

“Let me remind you that I am, in fact, older than you.” 

“And?”

“I deserve respect and zero questioning.” 

You hum, slightly amused this time. You know he’s goofing around, you know he’s hardly mad at the implication that you do all the work he’s supposed to do plus yours but there’s this slight worry in his face that’s unusual.  

“Is Gunho oppa okay?” 

Your brother frowns “Of course he is.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m— Why are you asking?” 

Shrugging, you turn away from him to look at the city through the window again. You can see the river and the buildings that encapsulate it perfectly and it brings you a strange sense of comfort everytime you zone out and just people watch those who feel free enough to walk along the bridge at this hour, with the cold and the rain and the mess that the leaves leave behind as they fall. 

“You look distraught.” 

“Well, you’ve been crying, of course I am.” 

Interesting. You didn’t think he could tell, which means your face is puffy and you look ugly. Great. 

“The mess in this office made me tear up when I got in this afternoon,” you say, swerving around the accusation with ease because there’s no way in hell you’re telling your brother what’s up with you. “I’m going to need your help when it comes to explaining that to dad.” And then you use your chin to point to the proposal sitting in front of him. 

“You didn’t have to do this today, I know sales are low but-” 

“Oh, that’s not it. That one is sitting on your email. This—” you take two steps, tap the front of the folder with your nails, “is a new thing. A thing he won’t understand nor approve unless you understand it and approve it.” 

And then you move back to your position by the window, staring at the lights and the buildings one more time without explaining anything else. When you hear the flick of the pages being turned, you know he understands how serious you’re about it. No space for debating, no time for complaining: you need him to get it done now, and so he will. 

Because your brother can be a lot of things but he’s not dumb. 

And he can read a room like no other except maybe you. 

Seconds turn into minutes and then the clock ticks and blends together as you wait, shoulder hurting by the time your brother lets out a heavy sigh. 

“No, I won’t approve this.” 

Definitely not what you wanted to hear. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You want to—” 

Defensiveness floats you, over-stimulates your senses and makes you see red at the rejection of your proposal “I want to expand our market, our clientele, our opportunities to keep this company on top. Can you relate?” 

“Y/N…” He scowls at your attack, at your tone “You’re running.” 

“I’m doing something for the company!” 

You think your roar is heard all the way to the first floor. Soohyun stares at you wide-eyed, mouth agape for a second before he closes it again. He has to fix his tie, his suit ironed for once as he takes the jacket off and discards it against the chair. 

Brat, princess, annoying little sister. You know that’s what he calls you, he has called you that ever since you were a child and in the most endearing way possible. You have yelled at him before, you have stomped your foot and cried and moaned until you got your way, until he agreed to let you do something. 

You have never screamed at him like this before, though. 

It shows in the way your chest rises and falls quickly, in the way he has to take a calming breath to not yell back at you. Your eyes are full with tears when he looks up and the crease of his brow disappears because, even though you both could be closer and understand each other better, he still is your brother. 

Your brother, who loves you and cares about you in his own way. 

It proves more difficult to let him see the real you, more difficult than what it felt with Yunho or with anyone else. 

So when the tears fall down your cheeks, you wipe them away quickly and pretend they were never there. 

“I don’t know what the hell happened,” he starts, calm, taking a step into your direction and raising his hand and you recoil a bit out of habit. He hesitates for a few seconds but then he’s squeezing your shoulder and pulling you into a tight hug that feels unfamiliar, unusual and weird until it doesn’t. You melt into the embrace because you need it, because it allows you to let go of your frustration and cry it out on your brother’s chest, “but you’re going to explain it to me whether you like it or not. And only then, I will consider saying yes to your proposal.” 

When you pull away to look at him, it’s with a pout and a scowl that draws a breathy laugh out of him. 

“Stupid.” He pushes you away a little before pulling you back in for a hug, “Always keeping things to yourself instead of letting me take the weight of it all. Stupid.” 

It takes a few minutes, but when the hug doesn’t seem necessary and your usual disgust for physical touch comes back into your system, he allows you to take two steps back and clean your face with the back of your hand. 

“Haven’t seen you cry since you were a child,” he whispers and you shrug, ignoring the fact that your heart stings at the comment. “What happened?” 

You tell him everything that night. 

Yunho hasn’t seen you in three months. 

Which, at first, came as relief. He didn’t want to see your face ever again after the things you confirmed to him back in your brother's office. Who needed you, right? He told himself his mother loved enough to understand the sudden change of heart, although she doesn’t exactly know what happened between you in the first place. 

Maybe he should’ve been honest when he got the chance, back in your house, the afternoon they told you both about the pr relationship. 

He was so close to telling the truth, too, when he walked out of the living room and into the hallway to clear his head and not scream at his mother in front of yours. It was there, at the tip of his tongue, and then his mother appeared in front of him with that spark behind her eye that could only mean one thing: it didn’t matter what the truth was, he was going to do this even if it killed him inside. 

Her words the next second confirmed it and he wondered right then if his freedom was worth the suffering:

“Either you do this or I’ll make sure you’re never able to dance again, Jeong Yunho. No more public university, no more friends, no more staying at the dorm, just your father’s company,” and he was about to refuse, yet again, she raised her finger as a warning. “I mean it. Y/N is perfect to clear the company’s image but if we can’t use her then we’ll have to work twice as hard as we do now to clear it.” 

And Yunho would rather fake an entire life with you than work for the man who single handedly ruined his life the second he was born. He didn’t hate his father, he thought about him like a concept he would never understand even when he desperately tried to, but he would never become part of his company.

Not in the way his mom suggested, anyway. 

He just needed to get through college, pretend to be interested in the family business and then land a freelancer job elsewhere, in a foreign company maybe, one who didn’t seem a threat to his father’s and then move on his own when he had enough money saved. 

Independence. He needed independence. Strangely enough, he needed you to gain that independence even though you meant the exact opposite to him, in his head. 

So he doesn’t know why he yelled at you that afternoon. To take it all out, maybe? He thought he hated you back then, too.

He had already agreed to it in the hallway, to his mom. 

He had already agreed to it the second he was born. 

Which is crazy because that’s not a normal experience to have. And if you were born a boy or him a girl, none of this would’ve happened in the first place. You’d be friends, like Gunho and Soohyun, and maybe he’d be forced to be with someone that wasn’t shoved down his throat for so long. 

Imagine his surprise when he kissed you back that night in his dorm. No, scratch that, imagine his surprise when he started liking you the second you showed your true colors to him. 

You’re not perfect by any means, but neither is he and it only took you allowing him to enter a little bit into your mind, into your heart, into your soul, for him to fall for you hard. Or maybe he always liked you? His mind didn’t allow him to sleep at all when you left, but it didn’t allow him to go and follow you that same night either, so the conundrum continued to torture him until it didn’t. 

After the fight in the office, he went home and sat in his childhood bedroom for a while. He had dinner with his brother when he came home to look for some documents in his father’s home office and then he went back to his dorm and stared at the ceiling until Yeosang came back from wherever he’s been disappearing to these days. 

He pretended everything was fine under Yeosang’s scrutinizing gaze but his friend and roommate knew him so much it only took less than a week for his sudden mood to reach the ears of the rest of the friend group. 

Not so subtle messages started entering his phone. He answered all of them and then used the excuse of being on the app to check your chat in case you sent a message and it didn’t notify him for some reason. He told them everything was okay, that he was feeling a bit under the weather. 

And he managed to convince them until he checked his calendar one day (the one he shared with you) and realized all foreseeable events had been cancelled. You had another meeting where you two needed to coexist, a company dinner with both your team and Gunho’s team that he needed to go to as your plus one and, surprisingly enough, a paparazzi session scheduled by your mother that you needed to first prepare to and then do. 

All of this was explained to him by his PR assistant. It surprised him to see that many postponed and canceled the app. It angered him to assume you canceled everything just because you didn’t want to see him. 

He didn’t want to see you either, but he had to. Weren’t you the one who more than once scolded him for not being professional enough? 

Ha! 

It was his opportunity to tease you about it. And so, when he was told to go to your brother’s office the next day, he had this whole speech ready to go. He would tell you to stop being so dumb, that a kiss and his feelings is something that can be ignored. That he needed you both to forgive and forget. 

Yunho needs to continue his plan, even if his own heart breaks in the process. And as he got down the elevator and walked the hall to reach the office, his heart desperately asked him to reconsider. Because there, while pushing the door handle to enter the space he dreaded to be a week prior, Yunho realized he wanted to ask you to be his again. 

When he found nothing but Soohyun on his chair, his conviction deflated and his ego sank to the ground. 

“Yunho!” Your brother sprung out of his chair, excitingly rounding his desk until he reached for him. Arm around his shoulders, Yunho raised a brow at the sudden animosity. “Were you expecting someone else?” 

“N-no.”

“Right.” 

He knew Soohyun could call his bullshit from a mile away. But it didn’t matter, he was already sitting down in front of him in the new couches facing each other. He wanted to point it out, but Soohyun beat him to it. 

“Your friend Park Seonghwa has amazing taste.” 

“Ah,” he breathed out a laugh, a nervous chuckle that made him gasp for air a second after, “yeah. He, um, was top of his class before he graduated.”

“I can tell,” Soohyun nodded and looked around, scrunching his nose in a way that reminded Yunho of you. “Y/N is not going to be available for the next few months.”

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I know you came here looking for her and we’ve known each other since you were born, Yunho, I think we can skip the shitty formalities.” 

“Hyung…”

Soohyun shaked his head, laughing with a relaxed sincerity that is such a Soohyun thing to do “There’s never not been a moment in my life where my sister doesn’t surprise me. I know you know her and I know you two have grown… Closer since this whole PR thing started but I don’t think you can grasp the full Y/N effect until you live with her, you know?”

He didn’t. Not at all. 

“She crafted in four, maybe five hours a project that would’ve taken me at least a month to sit down and write,” he explained and Yunho swallowed thickly, the lump on his throat going down. “And she wanted to get it done as soon as she got the approval from dad. So, I hope you understand that she couldn’t exactly give you a notice before postponing and cancelling your shared schedule.” 

Ah. So you didn’t want to speak to him at all. He scoffed, annoyed. “So she asked you to tell me?” 

“Nope. In fact, I’m pretty sure she would kill me if she knew I’m meeting with you at all.” 

Yunho blinked, confused. 

“Oh.”

“But I love you like a brother, Yunho. You’re my family, you’re her family even though she hates it and I realized recently that the four of us need to stick together. If everything else goes to shit, we’ll still have us.” 

The four of you. Including him and Gunho. 

“And as a family, we owe each other honesty. We owe each other loyalty and forgiveness and understanding. You see where I’m going with this?” 

“No,” he admitted, frowning a bit. “What does any of that have to do with me and Y/N? We don’t like each other, I know you and Gunho noticed at some point. It’s the way things are supposed to be.” The words had a bitter taste, but he pushed through them. 

He sounded like you.

Soohyun let out a sigh and he got up from his seat to squeeze Yunho’s shoulder “She comes back in three months, Yunho. She’s doing something from the company but she has to come back, right?” 

Yunho shrugged, pretending the information didn’t spark something close to hope inside of him. 

“Understanding. That’s what we owe each other: Love and understanding… And lunch. Your brother actually owns me lunch, feel free to join us.” 

Your brother is the weirdest guy ever. However, he realized that as Soohyun walked out of the office and left him to consider his words, that he was already planning on telling you when you came back. 

He missed you already, too. 

And yet, he didn’t find the courage to tell you at all. It tormented him, greatly, vastly. It consumed him through his classes, his dance rehearsals, his performances. It tugged on his heart the days he had to go to the office and pretend he cared about the company, and through his hang outs with his friends. 

They asked about you all the time. He had to remind them you were on a business trip, he had to make up a story, he had to tell them the details were apparently confidential when he didn’t even know where you were.

He could’ve just called you. He could’ve just asked you. 

His finger over your contact on his phone while he sits in Wooyoung's room during a house party, in the dark. 

He could just ask you. 

He–

“Okay, what the fuck is going on with you?” 

He drops his phone, the light of the screen going out as it lands down on the bed. 

“Holy shit, Mingi!” 

 A light turns on and he squints his eyes at the sudden intrusion. 

“You scared the shit out of me!”

“I walked in here like five minutes ago,” his best friend deadpans and Yunho pouts like a child. “You know, I’m starting to feel like I don’t mean that much to you anymore.”

That offends him deeply and he scowls before tossing a pillow in his direction  “What the hell are you even saying?” 

“I’m a patient person, Yunho,” he catches the pillow and tosses it back, “and I’ve been waiting for you to tell me what's been going on for the last month and half but you keep saying everything’s fine.” 

“Because everything’s f—” 

“No, it’s not!” 

Mingi is tired, he can tell. He’s been holding his worries inside since the day he told everyone about his relationship with you and Yunho feels awful. This is that part of his life that’s hard to talk about. He only explained to Mingi about the dreadful desire that his father has of making him work for him around a year ago and he’s known Mingi for so long at this point that it does feel a little like he doesn’t trust him enough. 

But it’s hard and he has kept his feelings and desires buried for so long he thinks he might’ve accidentally dragged his feelings for you along with it and now they’re all mixed up and scratching the walls of their enclosure, begging to come out of him. 

“I’m not used to push people around to tell them about their feelings but you’re my best friend and—” 

“I kissed Y/N.” 

Mingi stops mid sentence, blinking a few times before moving to sit beside him on the bed. Yunho hopes, as he faintly hears the music outside of the room getting louder and Wooyoung screaming something that he can’t exactly make up, that Mingi doesn’t think he’s suddenly confessing his afflictions out of pressure. 

Instead, the words came out of his mouth like he couldn’t resist telling them in the first place. After keeping it to himself for weeks, nearly three months, it finally feels like breathing a little. 

“O… kay.” He says as a response and it’s Yunho’s turn to blink at him in disbelief, Mingi laughs a little. “So you kissed the girl you like. Isn’t that something to be happy about?” Yunho gapes at the insinuation of Mingi knowing he likes you, except, it doesn’t come as a surprise. His friends are very observant, to his absolute horror they can’t be fooled. “Did she reject you? Is that what’s going on?” 

“No! I mean, yes. We… She kissed me first!” He defends himself, taking a quick inhale before cursing softly under it. “And then I kissed her. And then we kissed and she left and she ghosted me for a little, actually. And then I saw her in her office, that's not actually her office but her brother’s, and I… I kind of confronted her? And then she rejected me.” 

By the time he finishes his rambles, Mingi looks amused and a little worried. 

“You have to be in this… Fake relationship with her and that’s tormenting you, then? Because she rejected you?” 

“No, that’s not… We’re not— I am, we are still in the fake relationship, it’s just that she’s gone.” 

“She died?!” 

“What? No! No, she’s,” Yunho closes his eyes, laughing at the assumption because he knows Mingi said it to get that exact response in return, “she’s not dead. She, um, she’s on that business trip.” 

“Oh, that’s right! You told us—”

“I lied.”

“What?” 

His poor best friend looks confused beyond belief and that guilt of not telling him everything creeps in once more, threatening to shut him up until he reminds himself Mingi is trustworthy and deserves some clarity. 

“She is on a business trip, I just don’t know why or how or where she is,” he finishes softly, his lips in a line and revealing just how uneasy that makes him feel. “I don’t know where she is and I think that she left because I— Well, when she rejected me we didn’t end up on the best of terms.”

“So you think it’s your fault.” Mingi finishes with a nod, letting out a sigh a second after. “Well, it’s not.” 

“It kind of is, though.” 

“Yunho, it’s not. She’s a grown up, if she decides to run away from her feelings instead of facing them she’s kind of a dumbass.” 

“Mingi!” Yunho’s pushing him a bit with his hand on his shoulder before he can help it. 

“She is!” Laughing, his best friend takes no offense at the push and instead pushes him back, teasingly. “Remember that one party you had at your place, when your parents were gone on that business trip with your brother?” 

“Oh, that party?” 

“Yeah, that party,” Mingi nods, looking away for a second, something shining in his face Yunho realizes he’s longing for. He wants that to shine on him, too: the security that being with the right person brings you. “Love tried to run away from an argument that night, too. I just didn’t let her.” 

“Are you calling your girlfriend a dumbass?” 

“Yeah,” and instead of saying it with a grudge, the confirmation comes out of a place filled with, well, love. “She was a dumbass back then, at least.” 

“Y/N is not like that at all,” Yunho says after a bit, “she’s not a dumbass for running away from this. Our thing… It’s kind of different. We’ve been put in this situation since we were kids and we hated, like actually hated each other for a while. We treated each other so badly, Mingi, you have no idea the way she gets under my goddamn skin sometimes,” and despite saying it like it’s a bad thing, he can’t help but smile. Mingi notices this, too. “You know I don’t have the best relationship with my parents, right? Well, hers is way worse.” 

“Wait, you told us that this relationship was something to clear your company’s image?” Mingi recalls and Yunho feels another pang of guilt against his ribcage. 

“It is! It totally is, it’s just… Well, she was born a girl and I was born a boy and our parents have a very, um, old-fashioned concept of love and what it’s supposed to look like. It was decided a long time ago that we were going to end up together.” 

There’s a few seconds of silence before Mingi bursts out laughing so hard it drowns the noise from outside the room. 

“That’s funny to you?” Yunho asks, light-hearted and smiling at the sound of his best friend's laugh. 

“No, no, it’s just… Your parents are forcing you two together for some weird legacy, bloodline reason and you fell for the girl you’re in a fake relationship with and you’re supposed to hate?” 

Now that he hears it like that…

“Basically, yeah.” 

“Oh, San’s girl is about to have a field trip with this information.”

“Dude!” 

“What? It’s dumb! Y/N is a dumbass, you’re dumber for not just calling her and telling her you miss her and you’re both really fucking dumb for not telling your parents to fuck off. You’re grown!” 

Yunho sighs, shaking his head. “She doesn’t like me like that, Mingi.”

“Yes, she does!” He laughs again, covering his mouth with his hand once he realizes Yunho is getting annoyed with it. “Yunho… Ugh, is this how you all felt those few months where I was crying over Love?” 

“I didn’t feel anything.” 

“Because you’re a puppy,” Mingi’s shoulder brushes against his in a not so subtle way of teasing him and his eyes blank in pretend annoyance. “You are. And you’re a pretty great guy, Yunho. If she doesn’t like you back it’s not the end of the world.” 

Yunho nods, but he’s suddenly not as convinced as he should be. 

“And you’re also one of the strongest people I know, in here.” Mingi’s finger taps over his heart on his chest. “But you don’t have to carry your burdens on your own. This is all… It all seems pretty dumb to me but it must be really hard on you, hm? Especially since you want to live a life separate from your family, right?” 

That, Mingi knows. “Mhm.”

“And so does Y/N?”

“No, I’m not so sure about that,” he murmurs back and his heart aches when he thinks about you and the way you’re treated home, in the way your mother has treated you in front of him. “I think she thinks she’s nothing without her family but I also think she was raised to believe that. They… Well, even her brother has a hard time seeing how fucking amazing she is.” 

“Is she?” Mingi drops his head to the side, doubt and a little prejudice on his expression. “Is she fucking amazing, Yun?” 

“She’s… She’s such a good person. Which is really crazy for me to say, because I thought she was a spoiled brat for a long time. And she is! But she’s also… She cares so deeply and she’s enjoys painting and she’s so great with kids and—” 

“And you have it bad,” Mingi laughs again, shoving him against the mattress with a push and standing up from the bed. Yunho laughs, recognizing the amount of pushing as tipsy Mingi behavior and nothing else. “So bad. Were you about to call her?” 

He feels called out and a little shy about it. He blushes and all. 

“Maybe.”

When his focus goes back to his phone, it’s when he hears it. 

And his heart drops to his ass. 

A distant curse and the sound of a call ending is enough to send his mind into a new, different spiral. 

“Was that…?” 

Yunho picks up the phone, checks the last call he made and your name appears next to the nine minutes and a half his conversation with Mingi lasted. 

His mouth runs dry, his throat closes as he turns to screen to show it to Mingi.

“Holy fuck.” 

“What do I do?” 

“That’s insane. San’s girl is going to have the best night of her life.” 

“Mingi!” He blocks the phone, tosses it on the bed and gets up to shake his best friend's shoulders. “What. Do. I. Do. Now.” 

Your heart still beats like the day you not-so-accidentally listened to a conversion you shouldn’t have. 

There’s the distant memory of your phone vibrating under your pillow at the hotel you were staying at for the night. It happened only a few weeks ago, near the three month mark into your trip around the country, looking for businesses worth the investment in little towns. That far into your adventure, you had met at least a dozen small companies worth every penny inside your father’s pocket, more so than the one’s already signed. You had met wonderful people who didn’t exactly know who you were and you had been treated so kindly it made the ache in your chest go away. 

At least for a little bit. 

So when you sleepily read Yunho’s name on your screen at two am in the morning, the sting of the pain was unfamiliar and the first thing that crossed your mind was that something bad happened to your brother. Or his brother. Or him. 

What other reason did he have to call you when he left that office hating you all over again? 

“H-hello?” 

Nothing. Just silence and maybe a distant melody, the ruffling of the phone against something. 

“Yunho? If you called me to piss me off I swear to God—”

“Holy shit, Mingi! You scared the shit out of me!” 

Mingi? 

There’s a deeper voice you can hear on Yunho’s end and that’s when you realized he didn’t mean to call you in the first place.

And you should've hung up there. But you didn’t and so you listened to their entire conversation and realized one thing: 

Mingi was right. You are a dumbass. 

And Yunho is even dumber, but that’s something you would have to rub on his face when you gather the courage to see him again. That day is not today, you made sure of it. 

You see, you’ve changed just a tiny bit these past three months. It’s not like you went to a spiritual retreat but by crafting that proposal while fleeing your feelings and the mess that you made with just one kiss, you came around something you never experienced before. Not fully, at least: 

Freedom. 

You spent Christmas and New Years all alone, with no one dear to you around and you saw the fireworks from your hotel window and you felt and suddenly you understood what Yunho sees in in sleeping in that tiny dorm with a roommate and a pile of dirty clothes in a corner, with no pushing their way into the room to pick his messes up and no one making sure he eats at the correct time, the correct meals and the correct porcelain for the day.

No rules, no conditions, just a place where he can be free and himself. 

You did all of that while also making sure you didn’t abandon your priorities. You went to sleep late because you wanted to and then you went to bed early the next day because there were no rules, no events you needed to attend to, no photographers asking you to smile.

There was no one to tell you that you looked fat after eating one delicious, non dietetic meal. There was no devil (your mom) whispering in your ear how everyone would notice the carbs, the bloat and the tiny zits. 

There was no one there to stop you from cutting your hair. And so you did. What once was kept long and straight in order to keep a traditional, clean look, now rested in waves on your shoulders,

It makes it so much easier to walk out of the shower, in less time too! 

And although your heart yearned for Yunho everyday, especially after hearing his conversation with Mingi at two in the morning when you weren’t even supposed to, it was the first time in years you felt happy enough to drop the mask, the pretences, the good posture and even the makeup. 

Yup, you went out without makeup three times! That’s some information that would send your mother into cardiac arrest at the very least. 

So now, as you try to move fast through a college campus that’s not yours, with a box that contains something you call an apology and it might not even be, your heart is beating with the same amount of strength just at the thought of all this backfiring. 

Because you’re not ready to see Yunho, not yet. You want him to come and find you, to come and tell you if he wants to accept you back into his life, under his terms, after you so insistently kicked him out of yours. 

You sneakily checked his calendar. You bribed your assistant, who bribed his assistant, so now his schedule for the week is in a screenshot on your phone and you have checked it four times to confirm this is a good time to be here. 

He has dinner with his family and yours (who don’t even know you’re back yet) at his house, on the hill, which is forty minutes away from his campus. That’s exactly the window of opportunity you’ve been waiting for since coming back. 

And you came back a week ago. 

You may or may not have memorized the code for the door from that only time you came to his dorm and so it’s not really a surprise when you quickly enter it and hear a screech behind you when you are busy closing the door. 

When you turn around, Yeosang is shirtless and covering his chest with his hands “Y/N!”

“Yeosang.” You say with a small bow, struggling to not laugh and turning your face away, looking at the postered up wall. “So nice to see you here, in your room.” 

“W-what are you… I mean how do you… Should I call Yun—” 

“No!” When you turn to him again, eyes wide with worry, he has a shirt on and his phone in his hand. “Please don’t… Let me do something real quick and then you can speak to him, okay?” 

You start to fumble with the box, placing it at the end of the bed and opening it up fast. You throw the lid on top of Yeosang’s bed and then get to work, pulling everything out. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I hate lying to my friends, Y/N.”

“And you’re such a great friend for that but you won’t be lying to him because I’m not asking you to do that.” 

“I wouldn’t even if you did ask me to.” 

“Well, I don’t know about that…” 

Okay, so you changed a little bit. Not a lot. 

You sigh, struggling with the placement of your gift/apology because Yunho changed his sheets and so the color scheme it’s not perfect anymore. 

“What’s all of this?” 

“Yunho enjoys dancing,” you start and you see him nod from the corner of your eye, so you smile. “He told me he did it to have this dorm but I didn’t buy it at all, and so when I was on my trip I… Sort of thought of him a little bit, not a lot.” You clear your throat, a slight heat creeping up your cheeks. “But I didn’t want to wait another day without giving this to him. I just… I can’t exactly be here when he sees it.” 

You finish, turning back to Yeosang and you realize you’re out of breath, nervousness creasing your brows. 

“Would you please let me know how he reacts to it the next time we see each other?” You ask softly, almost shy and Yeosang visibly relaxes at the tone. It makes you feel understood somehow and so you relax a little bit, too. “If you’re here when he gets here I mean, um, you are all dressed up.” 

When you point to his outfit, he seems to remember that he was, in fact, getting ready to go out when you walked in. His hair is wet but styled and all. 

“Oh, I was… I was just going to the club.” He points to a camcorder on his beat and you raise a curious brow, but don’t really ask anything. “I’m making a dance documentary for one of my classes. Yunho is in it, too.” 

That peaks your interest and he laughs, possibly at the way you light up at the mention of your fake-boyfriend-possible-love-of-your-life name. “He is?” 

“Yes, he’s… A big part of it, actually, but I go to this club to get footage and… You should ask him to explain it to you.” 

Now, at that, your smile sure turns sour because there’s no actual way of knowing if he wants to see you again or not. 

After all, he didn’t attempt to contact you after that phone call. 

You don’t know if he noticed that he called you, either. 

It’s kind of killing you inside, all the space you need to fill with assumptions instead of facts. 

“Sure, um…” 

“I can stay until he comes back.” 

“Oh, I don’t want to ruin your plans for the night, Yeosang. You should go and—”

“I want to see it. I want to record it,” he explains, looking over your shoulder and into the gift in Yunho’s bed. “He says he’s not sure, but I think he wants to dedicate his life to it, you know?” 

“To dancing?” 

Yeosang nods. 

Your voice sounds very small when you ask him “Do you think he’s going to like it?” 

He smiles, softly, endeared almost.

“He’s going to love it,” he assures you, “And your haircut, too.” 

You chuckle at that, touching the ends of it that rest on your shoulder “You think?” 

“Yeah! It suits you, actually.”

“Thank you, Yeosang.” 

This time, and after making small talk with his roommate, you leave Yunho’s dorm with a smile on your face instead of tears running down your cheeks. 

There’s exhaustion pouring out of Yunho by the time he reaches his dorm door. He closes his eyes, rests his forehead against the cool wood of it and lets out a sigh to collect himself. He needs to have the energy to take a shower, after all. 

It’s not as late as he expected it to be, the digital clock on the wall glows blue and neon and lets him know it’s around nine thirty. Good, that’s great. 

He misses you. 

And it’s hard not to think of you when he’s surrounded with people who know you, who bring you up when it’s time to talk about positive results for the company, or the time you organized an event for you mother because your brother had no taste to pick the venue or catering or whatever the fuck they were going on about tonight. 

It didn’t escape him that Soohyun glanced at him every time your parents brought you up and he wonders if it shows in his face just how much he longs to see you again.

He’s thinking about your face when the room unexpectedly lights up and Yeosang is standing on his own bed, in the corner, smiling like a creep. Yunho almost falls as a curse slips past his lips and he stares at his friend like something is deeply wrong with him. 

Because it is. 

It’s almost comical how breathless he is as he asks him: “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

“Hey!” 

“—Standing in the corner like a serial killer.”

“Turn around, Yunho.” 

“What?” 

“Turn,” he repeats, slowly, as he climbs out of the bed, the camera pointed in his direction still. “Around.” 

So he does. 

And what he sees… Confuses him. Until it doesn’t. 

There’s a few things on his bed: There’s some polaroid pictures lined up, different people he doesn’t know in them, all in different traditional attire and Yunho can see there’s inscription in them, the dates all read from early november to two weeks ago. 

There’s tickets to a competition that’s supposed to be sold out. He knows, he tried to get a ticket the second they announced it but couldn’t. The top dance teams are going to battle for some bucks but, most importantly, they’re going to battle to keep the dying scene alive. 

A book titled Why Dance Matters next to a golden retriever plushie with a suit that makes him giggle out of the pure weirdness of it. 

There’s a copy of grease with some signatures in the front. He can make out something that reads as Barry Pearl in it, he thinks. His mind reels at what that means. 

A cd in a clear case with a beautiful sunset and a building he recognizes immediately as the orphanage you took him to. Six silhouettes he can only imagine symbolizes him, Jaemi, Hyunjoon, his brother, Soyi and you. 

But what confirms it’s something you did, it’s the envelope that sits in the middle of it all. It's waxed and sealed with something that looks regal, elegant and, when he picks it up to see the seal up close, he smells your perfume. 

He turns to Yeosang, eyes watery, in request of an explanation. 

“Open it! I’ve been dying to read it but I’m a great friend,” Yeosang almost wiggles with excitement and Yunho’s eyes water a little. “Or so she said.” 

“She was here?” 

“Y/N?” His friend asks in return, weirded out. “Well, yes.” 

“When?” 

“An… hour and something ago.” 

“Where did she go?” 

“Are you okay?” 

He’s speechless, envelope shaking a bit in his hand as he pushes the need to run to you away. He doesn’t know what this means, he doesn’t know what the letter says either. His heartbeats are thumping on his ears and muffling Yeosang’s words a little bit. 

He needs to calm down. 

He needs to read the letter. He’s–

“You’re crying,” Yeosang turns off the camcorder, closing the screen and tossing it softly on his bed before taking a few steps in his direction. Concern is written all over his face, a little bit of guilt too. “I shouldn’t have let her in, right? I knew something was off with you but I had no idea that you two had fought or—” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” Yunho quickly dries off his tears, shaking his head at his friend’s anxious apology. “I just… I missed her so much, Yeo.” 

“Oh.” 

“So fucking much.” 

“Yunho…” He closes his eyes and jumps a little a Yeosang’s sudden embrace, but he’s grateful for it. Envelope trap between his chest and Yeosang’s rib, he takes a bated breath filled with things he can’t quite burden his friend with. 

He remembers Mingi’s words loud and clear, but the only thing Yunho wants to do right now is find where you are so he can see you again. Hug you again. Kiss you again. 

That night, after he realized he had dialed your number by mistake, he had a full on breakdown in Wooyoung’s room and it took Mingi and Mingi’s girlfriend to talk him out of fleeing the country out of embarrassment, out of guilt. He thought back then he had definitely lost you, because the consensus the three of them came to was a ‘let her reach you if she wants to clear things out’ instead of a ‘call her and explain it yourself before she has the chance to reach out to you first’. 

Mingi said you had to at least prove you had any interest in making things right, in fighting to at least keep your friendship with him. 

As he opens up the letter, he immediately knows he should’ve just called you. 

He even forgets Yeosang is right beside him, looking away to give him some privacy to read your words without actually letting go of the embrace, just in case he needs it. Yunho knows this, he’s thankful, his legs shaking with need to go after wherever you are. 

And he’s about to ask again but, as he turns his head to regard his friend and explains the letter a little, he’s one step ahead of him. 

“She’s staying in a hotel, not her house.” Yunho opens and closes his mouth, about to ask him the name of the hotel when he shakes his head. “The luxury one in Itaewon. What? Did you think I would let her go without getting the information first?” 

Yunho shrugs, Yeosang clicks his tongue in disappointment, letting go of him and putting, at least, ten steps between the both of them. 

“She’s very talkative when she’s not with a big crowd, Yun. Now move.” 

“I think I—” He starts to say but stops midway, looking down at the letter and then at his friend again. 

Yeosang gives him a soft smile, the one he curves on his lips when he’s endeared with something, with someone. Yunho went clubbing with him once, he knows the smile very well. 

“I know,” he says in a murmur and then sighs like it’s a task to be around him. “Now, let’s go. We’re going to the same area anyway and I could use the ride. There’s the box.” 

In the car (one he ordered from an app, not his family car), his leg moves up and down and his hands tremble with anticipation and, as the imposing structure of the hotel comes into view while he stares at the window, he swears he feels at ease. 

For the first time in months, he feels like he’s home. 

And it’s all because he’s about to see you again. 

Yeosang is not a very discreet person. He’s soft spoken and he looks like he cares about his friend’s a great deal, but he has that clumsiness of a person who’s used to being transparent about things. 

He asked you if you just got home with a spark of hopefulness in his eye, like he couldn’t wait to clue in Yunho about it, like he knew what he was going to do when he read your letter and saw your gift. 

Yeosang asked you like Yunho had already forgiven you and that had filled you silly head with warmth and hope and expectations you shouldn’t have because, as far as you noticed, Yunho is not the most honest friend to have. 

So you asked yourself if Yeosang knew about the fight, if the rest of his friends knew. 

And you still told Yeosang where you are staying. 

There’s only one lamp helping with lighting up the bedroom, the city outside of it alive and busy like it always is. The amount of lights beyond the river bring you comfort, something familiar spreads on your chest when you take them in and you admit, for the first time in three months plus the week you’ve been staying here, that you love this stupid city even if it makes you feel trapped most of your days.

But here? In this space that you have made yours over the last seven days? You love it. 

Your hair is wet and your face is clean of any product. You told yourself to go about your night routine like you weren’t expecting something else to happen. That way, when it doesn’t because you feel that what you did is unforgivable as much as it is cruel, you won’t be as disappointed. 

So your face is moisturized and you have your nightgown underneath the silk bath this hotel provides and you’re totally not thinking about Yunho being in the same city as you, you are totally not freaking out over the reaction to your gift, you’re chill. 

You’re chilling, you’re cool. 

And the way your heart leaps when you hear a knock at the door means nothing, because you ordered room service like thirty minutes ago. It’s fine. 

He’s probably not showing up. 

So why the hell is he there when you open the door? And where’s your room service when you need it? 

“Yunho!” 

“Y/N…” 

The atmosphere turns weird and tense right away and you grab onto the frame of the door as he stares at you with indecipherable emotion in his eyes. Is he happy to see you? Is he here to curse you out? 

Is he mad? He’s totally upset at you. He is, he’s… Skinnier, just a little bit. His hair is lighter, too, like a brownish blond that suits him and his skin tone and he looks so good even if there’s dark circles under his eyes. 

You missed him so much. 

“Come in! Um…” You say after what feels like hours of silence, of you two just staring at each other with a little disbelief, opening up the room door wider and stepping aside so he can pass right by you. 

His cologne makes you a little dizzy, drives you a little crazier but there’s not enough time to focus on that because he has the box you left earlier in his dorm in one hand and your letter in the other. 

You close the door, taking in a little calming breath that does nothing to appease the erratic beat of your heart. 

The eighty two square meters of this room suddenly feel like ten and when he puts the box down on the coffee table of the immediate tiny living room space of this suite, you feel like it’s over. 

He turns around, a hand on his hip and the shade that the lamp casts on him doesn’t allow you to determine if he’s clenching his jaw or not, if he’s upset or not, if he’s—

Yunho raises his hand, the one holding your letter. 

“What’s this?” 

Oh, he’s so upset. Okay, good, you foresaw this the moment you decided to give him something. It’s okay, you tell yourself as you walk the steps separating you and take the letter from his hand, you can deal with this. 

And, although you have changed a little in the months you didn’t see him, there’s a long way to go before your defensiveness stops being the only way you know how to approach a situation targeting you and your ego. 

“If you didn’t like it, you could’ve just thrown it away or burned it, Yunho, you didn’t have to come all the way here—” 

“Read it to me.” 

You look up at him, blinking once and then twice at his request. 

“Didn’t you—” 

“Princess,” he says, letting out a tiny breath in between his words, “read it to me. Please.” 

Now that you’re physically closer to him, you can pick up this gentleness in his features that you know well. It’s the same expression he had back in the orphanage, when Jiwoo took Jaemi in her arms and he was left staring at you with his cheek pressed on his forearm while he rested on the table. You think about that exact moment a lot, late at night, when the only thing overwhelming your thoughts it’s him. 

You swallow the lump on your throat down as you take out the letter from the envelope. It’s a little dark but there’s really no need for you to read the words when you know them by heart. You wrote and rewrote them at least a hundred times before deciding the letter looked good and that it wasn’t too long, too obnoxious, too sweet, too cringy. Just the right amount of emotion in case it came to bite you in the ass, like now. 

“S-sure,” you let out a sigh, past caring if he sees you’re a little affected by the situation as a whole. “Yunho, I’m sure you’re reading this after seeing the gift layed out in front of you. Take it as an expression of gratitude for all the times the mere thought of you got me through a day, even in this time when we’re supposed to be upset at each other. I think about you a lot and I think about what I did, too. I’m— This all sounds to stupid and formal,” you criticize your own work without thinking it through, frowning and looking up at him. “This letter is supposed to be an apology and it reads like an email.” 

Yunho shakes his head, a tiny smile tugging on his lips. “Go on, please.” 

Sniffing because you feel uncomfy and vulnerable, you continue.  

“I’m sure you’re wondering why now and not three months ago. Well, it takes a lot for me to defy the expectations people put on my shoulders. As you know, my last name is laced with success I didn’t work on and letting go of things you’re used to is hard, but I did. I went away, I learned, I grew up a little bit and in my journey the only constant was you. Not the fight we had, not the way we have treated each other throughout the many years I’ve known you. I’ve always seen your life from the outside even if I was a part of it, I’ve seen your social media posts and wondered if I wasn’t deserving of the same kindness you display to your friends on them but, as you proved to me that I am deserving of it, I understood that it wasn’t your voice in my head telling me I didn’t, it was mine.

“Not my mother’s voice, not anyone else's, but mine. Accepting that was hard but I did it and I did it on my own but as a result of the impact you had on me the second you turned around and held me with the care I now think I deserve.” Something drops on the paper, wets it and blends the ink of the pen you used together and you realize there’s tears running down your cheeks. “I can’t ask you to forgive me for what I did. But just know that I kissed you because I wanted to, not because you were being kind to me. And I pushed you away because, out of everyone that has come and gone from my life, you’re the only person who has the possibility to break my heart and mend it the times you seem fit…” 

You look up and to the side to wipe your tears. You’d pat yourself on the back for how you read this to him, without any stutters or mistakes, but the truth it’s that melancholy swallows you as you reach the end of the letter. It’s more emotional than what you’d remembered, too, now that you’re reading it outloud and in front of the man you love. 

There’s no need for you to read what comes next because you want to say it looking at him. 

“And I’m sorry. I love you and I don’t love you just because we kissed or because we are forced to be together. I love you because you’re part of me, because you’ve always been. I love you and I can’t stand to lose you. Again, I’m sorry,” you repeat, looking down at the words again before finishing in a whisper: “Yours, Y/N.” 

There’s this pregnant silence that follows that makes you fidget on your feet. It takes a second for you to gather yourself together again, wipe your cheeks and look up at Yunho. There’s disbelief in his expression and you wince in preparation for what’s about to follow. 

“Like I said,” you start again, extending the letter to him so he can take it, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect you to do anything, really, a-and I understand if this is all too childish or too cringy for you to say something back. I don’t need you to say something back! Really, I don’t,” you laugh amidst the sudden verbal vomit and shrug, not even looking at him anymore. “I j-just wanted you to know. And I mean it: If you don’t want me that way, it’s completely fine, Jeong. I also settle for being your friend, i-if that’s easier for everyone— For you, if that’s easier for you,” you correct yourself, “because I don’t really care what anyone thinks anymore, including my mother, she can go fuck herself and she can win all she wants if that means keeping you in my life and—” 

He grabs the letter and in a second he uses the tight hold you have on it to push you closer, tearing the paper in the process. 

“Kim Y/N, you big dummy.” 

He lets go of the letter and you do too, hands resting on his chest as you stumble forward a little, the paper falling to your feet as his right hand settles on your cheek, the left one on the nape of your neck. 

“Excuse me?” 

Yunho laughs, breathy and pointed while his eyes scan your face. “You heard me.” 

“Are trying to piss me off, Jeong Yun—” 

This time, when Yunho kisses you, it doesn’t feel new. It doesn’t feel like defiance, it doesn’t feel like you’re breaking the rules or letting your mom win. 

It feels like coming come. 

The ache in your soul stops the second his lips move against yours, deliciously slow and firm while he holds you close. His hands shift, they move the satin robe as they descend and find their place on your back, on your hip. Your chest collides with his with a soft nudge forwards and you sigh against his mouth, welcoming the way his hands tighten on you, feeling finally at ease in his embrace. 

You thought, when preparing his gift, writing the apology letter and then earlier at his dorm, that your self control was something to be admired. Yeah, you love him deeply and all, but you had the restraint to give him the opportunity to decide what he wanted to do with all the things you told him. 

Now you think that there’s nothing in the world that could stop you from kissing his lips raw, from pulling his hair a bit when your fingers tangle in it, from drinking the sound you get in return. 

Fuck your self control. You want Yunho like you never wanted anyone or anything before. 

That’s why you’re grateful when he pumps the break, lips leaving yours and breath on your lips. When you open your eyes, he’s already staring at you. With the way he’s holding you, you barely have to get on your tippy toes to nuzzle his nose against yours with care and the action reminds you of that day at the office, before you fucked up, but the feeling is way different. 

This time, your gut tells you that whatever is about to happen with the two of you is something that’s going to linger, that he’s going to stay one way or another and your heart thumps loudly at the thought of having Yunho in your life forever. 

Four months ago, the thought would’ve given you a headache. 

Now, it heats up your cheeks as his hands return to your face. 

“I’m sorry, I had to kiss you. I also should’ve gone after you that night, in my dorm, I— I’m also sorry, Y/N,” he lets go of you softly, putting a step in between the two of you so he can take your hands in his. “I’m sorry I cornered you in the office and I’m sorry I expected you to just… Drop all of your beliefs and convictions for me. That’s the most delusional thing I’ve ever done.”

“It’s okay—”

“But I love you,” he breathes out and you feel like the air it’s been knocked out of your lungs. “I’m a big pretender, you know? I… I try to be as positive as someone can be, I try to be aloof and I ignore a bunch of things in order to let myself be distracted from what my family expects of me, so I couldn’t understand when you didn’t want to do the same. I do now.

“And I don’t let myself enjoy a bunch of things either, Y/N, but I do allow myself little moments of happiness. When I’m with my friends or when I dance, I tend to have those little moments and then I allowed myself to see you in a new light and I… If I thought those two things brought me some sort of respite from my sorrows, I had no idea you of all people could feel like… Like…”

“Home?” You offer, your voice a sweet whisper full of understanding. 

“Like home.”

He swallows tightly, averting his eyes to the floor for a second. 

“I’m sorry for not returning that call,” he says, his brows creasing a little bit, “I took advice from drunk people in love, so I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you come to me.” 

“I was doing the same,” you whisper back, shrugging his worries away. “Letting you come to me, that is. I couldn’t even— I mean, I should’ve given you all of this in person instead of dropping it off like a scaredy cat.” 

“You did hear the conversation though?” 

“Yeah. Mingi called me a dumbass and I’m not going to forgive him.” 

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “He was right, a little bit.” 

“He called you dumber,” you return, frowning at his jab even though you know he didn’t intend any ill with it. “So yeah, you could say he was right.” 

There’s a few seconds where he just stares: at your hands, twined together with ease and familiarity. At your face, a loving smile lifts the corners of his mouth up before he steps closer again and lets his thumbs trace the curve of your mouth, your cheekbone, your nose. 

“I missed you so much, my love.” 

Oh.

Fuck. 

You warm to the pet name immediately, its significance running through you like a shudder and making you gasp softly, almost imperceptibly. You guess it shows on your expression, the smile on Yunho’s lips widening as his knuckle presses on your cheek gently. 

“You liked that I called you that?”

“Shut up.”

“My love,” he repeats, pecking your lips, “I love you. I’ve… I actually don’t know if I’ve loved you this way all this time, but I’m sure I loved you to some degree. I cared— I care about you.” 

You tear up again. 

That voice that tells you that you don’t deserve him comes back, a distant murmur of it this time, but it’s still there. 

For a good reason, too. 

“Forgive me for being so horrible to you all these years,” he makes a face, like he can’t believe you’re apologizing for that right now. “I wish I could say I did it because I was a vain, stupid child but it was all very much thought through.” 

“I know.”

“And I was horrible. I’ve been thinking about it for weeks now, I—”

His lips press softly against yours again. “Stop it. I was horrible to you too, we were both stupid and childish and we had our reasons.”

“Did we, though?” Your nose scrunches while you truly think about all the times you could’ve been nicer to each other and chose to be mean instead. 

His eyes water a little. You frown, fingers tightening around his wrists, you turn to kiss his palm. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I just love you a lot,” he sniffs and you catch with your knuckle the tears that roll down his cheeks. He closes his eyes, letting out a breath and untensing his shoulders at the same time. “And it feels so good to be able to say it.” 

“When did you figure it out?” Curiosity takes over you for a second, you allow yourself to wonder about it without any guilt now. 

He hums, thinking about it with a pout on his lips “Like I said, I think I’ve always loved you to some degree. I just… Didn’t know it. I’ve never loved anyone like this before but I think that when I saw you with Jaemi and my heart felt like it was about to come out of my mouth, I kind of knew.” 

“So when I kissed you…”

“I knew,” he nods, “and I should’ve been more insistent when I was trying to talk to you. Go to your house, do something, but I’m… A little inexperienced in this type of stuff.” 

“Because you have no bitc—”

You’re already giggling before he interrupts. “And you love me like I am, so now what?” 

The smile on your lips is so wide you have to look to the side, focus on the shadow of the chair in the tiny living room space for a second to compose yourself. 

It doesn’t really work, because he’s smiling as hard when you turn back to him. 

And then, for the first time since he got here, he seems to notice the length of your hair. He brushes it back with his fingers, the strands barely damp now, and gasps when he reaches the tips at your shoulders. “You cut it!”

With a nod, you laugh at his sudden surprise. “I did, I’m about to get disowned.” 

“Oh, your mom is going to pass out at the very least.” He agrees right away and you laugh again before he joins, his teeth nipping at his lower lip for a second. “She’ll forgive you, though.”

“You think so?”

“You look too beautiful to stay mad at you for long.” 

Oh, your poor heart. You shake your head, diverting the attention from you by brushing the strands of his hair that rest on his forehead back. 

“Blond?” 

“Kind of, yeah. It’s this… Honey something that my hairdresser suggested.” 

Humming, you let your fingernails scratch his scalp gently as they go down, hands resting on his shoulder when you’re done. “They did a great job,” you say before you click your tongue, cocking your head to the side. “Are you sure they weren’t just calling you honey and you misunderstood?” 

His brow lifts, the corner of his lips does as well and he’s ducking his head so he can speak in that cocky tone of his you’re so used to. Only this time, there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“And If they did?” 

You know what he’s asking, you know why he’s asking. You find yourself curious about this type of teasing on his behalf, so you allow it to happen.

In your own terms.

“Did it happen?” You return, leaning even closer, hands grasping the lapel of his suit jacket and tugging on it, pretending to smooth it out with your palms afterwards. 

“Princess…” 

When you look at him, there’s this fiery energy that crosses his expression and it makes your imagination run wild with possibilities. 

Now that you both got through the emotional part of your reunion with tears, with overdue confessions and very necessary apologies, what’s left to resolve is this pent up tension that’s always been something more. With the way Yunho behaves sometimes, so proud and tough, you have a vague idea of what it could be like. 

And it makes you giddy with anticipation. 

You would like to turn your assumptions into facts. So you play dumb, fakely perking up when he calls you, blinking with pretend innocence a few times to sell the act. “Hm?” 

Catching the way his jaw ticks at your behavior, you realize that the rush that went through your body every time you got under his skin was not out of the pleasure of winning. 

It was because you liked it. 

Very much so, that the way his eyes scan over your body like he's deciding what to do with you and your attitude make you let out a tiny puff of air that he drinks right up when he crowds you again, hands on your hips and lips on yours once more. 

His mouth doesn't move with any trace of carefulness anymore. Before, you were able to tell he needed to kiss you, longingly, with all the things he couldn't say before on his lips against yours. Now, his tongue makes its way past your teeth and swipes against yours in a way that makes you stumble backwards, almost leaving the tight squeeze of his hands behind. 

Yunho catches you, walks with you until you feel the arm of the tiny couch supporting your weight as well. 

He leans in a little bit to help you up on it, his body immediately in between your legs, his palms making their way downwards. One is on your lower back, thumb absentmindedly caressing the area, and the other one is pressing right next to your leg on the couch so he can bite your lower lip and give both your lungs a bit of a break before diving into your mouth again. You wrap your arms around his neck and keep him close. 

Closer, closer, closer. You need his body pressing against yours as you try to keep up with the intensity of his kisses. You've never been kissed like this before, never with so much love and passion and want and need. 

You've been kissed while drunk and touched while high in the past, you've been fucked by people you don't remember the names of and you had dropped the sleeping around once you graduated college. 

There's so much of your youth you wish you've done sober. Because now, when his tongue catches a soft moan and his hand moves from your lower back to your leg, under your robe, you don't know why you freak out. 

No, you know exactly why. 

Breaking the kiss, you take two seconds to look at the plush of Yunho’s lips after being deliciously smothered with yours. You're both breathing hard, chests rising and falling in tandem and gasps for air filling the room. 

His hand moves higher, measuring your reaction and you know he's about to ask if it's okay to touch you when you grab his wrist and stop his movements. 

“We don't have to—” 

“Is not that,” you say right away but you're both speaking over each other. 

“I mean, there's a lot we need to talk about. I want you to tell me about your trip and—” 

“Sure, we can do that later,” you nod. “Right now, I'm— I mean, let me turn off the light and you can touch me all you want.” 

He frowns. 

“What?” 

Heart picking up for a different reason now, you clear your throat and try to cough the anxiety away. You can talk to him about these things, it's okay. It doesn't really matter how embarrassed you feel once the words come out of your mouth. 

“Um, I went up a few pounds while on the trip and— And that's a good thing!” You say when he looks at you like he's about to tell you that it's okay. “I ate whatever I wanted, it was great, really. I just…” 

“You did?” He asks in a soft, excited whisper.

“I don't know if you'll, um, i-if you're going to like it.” You finish, blinking the shame away. 

Yunho’s expression softens and you take it as an agreement. You've only been touched in the dark, anyways, so you push into his chest a little bit and off his embrace (even if you don't really want to) and start moving towards the only light casting shadows on the room. 

Only to be tugged right back by a firm hand on your arm.

With his chest against you and his lips grazing your ear, you can barely help the way you shudder. There's something hard poking your ass and the apparent size of it has you gulping, salivating even. 

But you have to turn off the light. 

“Come here,” he murmurs and softly moves the both of you to stand in front of the mirror that's next to the entrance. 

Even if you tried not to, it's something you've been avoiding the whole time you've stayed here. The mirror is huge, floor to ceiling and its position it's very elegant, very fitting for the purpose of this suit that's supposed to be reserved for people who need different outfits for different events. 

You haven't really used it other than quickly checking your clothes earlier today, before leaving to go to the dorm and, even then, it was only a quick ten seconds.

It stings a little that, although you've made progress, your body and the way you perceive it still have such a grip on you. When you add the man your heart desires to the mix? Well, there's little to nothing you can do to let go of your insecurities.

The heat of Yunho's body leaves you for a second and he's turning another light, the one closest to the entrance, adjusting its intensity so the ambiance is not broken by the bright glow of it. 

You gulp again when he returns, but melt into his chest when he presses his body against yours again. 

How can you feel so comfortable with him but so uncomfortable with yourself? It's weird, it's strangely very you but you can't even tell him that because the intensity of his gaze when you catch it in the mirror shuts you right up. 

You know he's telling you to listen to him, to notice how serious he is about this as his chin rests on your shoulder. 

“I've called you ugly before, right? I've have actively contributed to your insecurities in a way that I'm not going to forgive myself for, ever,” he starts and the direct approach to it makes you teary eyed all over again. He notices, lips finding your shoulder to comfort you. “The thing is, Y/N, that I never actually meant it. I think I was pissed off because you were— and are so fucking beautiful.” 

You close your eyes and let out a pleading sigh “Yunho…” 

“No,” he says and you feel how he shakes his head, his chin still on your shoulder. “Someone needs to tell you this. You live in your head way too much.” 

He understands. 

You love him so much. 

“Open your eyes, princess.” 

You do. 

“Look at yourself.” 

You don't. You look at him instead. 

He's staring at you through the mirror and he straightens his back to rest his cheek against your temple, the height difference at his advantage because, this way you have to look up at him and it will give away the pure rejection you have for your reflection. 

“I don't think I've ever found someone as beautiful as I found you. When I realized that, that was what pissed me off… Well, I think I somehow buried the thought away but you are so breathtakingly pretty, Y/N.” He takes in a breath and you lose yours, his hand resting on your hip going up and tracing the curve of your waist. “But it doesn't really matter what I think, it matters what you think, hm?” 

Turning his head, his nose presses against your skin now and he leans in, nuzzling softly, with care, until his lips peck your jaw. 

“I can assure you that you can go up a hundred pounds, go down, up again and I wouldn't care. It doesn't matter, I have found you beautiful in every version that you have presented yourself in and I will find you beautiful if you change your whole appearance everyday. I love you,” he reminds you, “and I love everything that you bring along with you. Insecurities, panic attacks and clever insults to my clothing included.” 

The chuckle that you let out makes him smile against your cheek and he gives you a little peck before putting some space between your face and his. He looks you up and down in the mirror again and you can see genuine want in the way his pupils dilate. You see it happening in real time but then you also see his self-restraint. 

You're at a loss for words, but manage to mumble out “Thank you, Yunho.” And then you turn your head, catching his lips in a soft closed mouth kiss that he returns right away. 

“Whenever you're ready to let me prove how beautiful I find you, I'll be here.” He says when you let his mouth move away from yours, your lips softly pecking his jaw instead and getting a sigh in return. “I can wait.” 

Then, the worst thing happens: His hands leave your body and he starts to step away. 

It's a little embarrassing how quickly your entire being protests and you realize that there's a clinginess to you that you're not so sure where it came from. You reach for him, barely turning, and tug him right where he was. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you enjoy the genuine surprise on his expression and the way it turns into desire when you put his hands on you again: on your stomach, on your hip. 

When you turn your head to look at him directly, his eyes stay fixated on the reflection. His hand on your stomach turns, knuckles softly caressing you. You want to ask him what he likes about that but don't, instead, you tell him what goes on inside your head. 

“Yunho, I do want you. I want you… But I also want to make sure that you like me.” 

He looks at you then, mouth ready to reassure you again but you shake your head to shut him up. 

“I heard you,” you confirm, smiling a bit and then closing your eyes at the visage that accompanies the concept of your body in your mind. You know it's far from what it actually looks like but that also means that you don't know exactly what it looks like and that's terrifying. “I know you love me but would you like me?” 

“I do,” you hear the frown in his voice and take a deep breath before opening your eyes again. “Princess, do you trust me?” 

You nod without a second thought and he leans in, nose almost touching yours. 

“Would you let me show you how much I like you?”

It takes a second or two, but you nod again.

“And would you let me know if it's too much?” 

“Yes,” you breath out, too intoxicated by the closeness, by the way his lips softly trace yours without actually kissing them to think about the implication of his words. 

When he pulls away again, you let out a sound that gives away how much you want him. Yunho’s lips curve and when your eyes finally focus on his again, you can see the quick decision he makes as he looks at the mirror again, resolve and purpose in his expression as he takes off the jacket of his three piece, tossing it on the sofa. 

There's something magnetic in the way he rolls his sleeves up, securing them in his forearms and your eyes follow the motions and trace the veins that you're able to see before he turns away from you. 

He takes one of the chairs he's able to easily mov, placing it behind you both. You realize you've walked a few steps closer to the mirror, and so your back is pressed against it when his attention returns to you, when he takes your face with his hands and crushes his lips against yours without explaining what he just did. 

You brace himself on his forearms, nails pressing on his skin because somehow this kiss feels different. Its pace is not hard to keep up with but it feels like you are, the care he puts in his movements as his palms brush your hair back slowly and then go down, down until they're reaching the knot that keeps your robe closed. 

This time, instead of panic, you feel your stomach flutter. Butterflies all over, there's goosebumps on your skin when he tugs the robe open and feels the satin of your pajamas with his fingers. He makes a noise and, at first, you think it's out of protest because you're not already undressed for him.

But then his knuckles trace the hem of the nightgown and he makes the noise again, tongue flicking against yours harder, getting a moan out of you.

Yunho’s lips find your cheek, your jaw, nipping at the skin of your neck and over your pulse when he gets to it and you close your eyes, head falling against the mirror and head moving to the side so he can kiss every inch of skin if he wants. 

“You smell so fucking good.” 

That makes you smile, a droopy curve to your lips before you bite a sound back “I showered.” 

“You always do,” he whispers into your skin, lips finding your ear. “You always have. Do you know how many times I had to control myself around you?” 

“Hm,” you muse, pretending to think about it. “Do you know how many times you had to?” 

“Oh, trust me princess, I know.” 

He pulls back and you open your eyes. You wonder if yours are carrying the same intensity as his when they go down your body, taking your sleepwear in. 

It's a simple blue v-neck slip dress with some floral lace at the trim lines. It splits on the sides and falls mid-thigh. Something very basic in your opinion, but you don't miss the way his eyes are glued to the skin of your thigh. You're not wearing a bra and your nipples are painfully hard. 

“I didn't actually expect you to come to me tonight,” you lie a little, lips turning up into a shy smile. “So I didn't—” 

“Is this what you wear to sleep?” He interrupts and you watch him gulp. 

“Mhm.” 

“Every night?” 

“Something like this,” you tug at the fabric, softly, “yes.” 

“Fuck.” 

You giggle in return at how affected he seems, but the amusement dies when his eyes return to yours. Holding your hand, he takes a step back and then another and another until he's falling with a thump on the chair he brought close. 

He takes you in one more time before letting go of your hand and manspreading on the chair “Come here, princess.” 

The tone of his voice makes your entire being shake and you take in a breath before following his command. Which is crazy because you never, ever would've followed an order from him. 

But now you can't help yourself. 

Standing in between his legs, you can see when he holds the arms of it after attempting to touch you as soon as you get close enough for him to be able to reach you and, when you're about to straddle his lap, he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in response. 

You understand what he wants immediately and you turn around, watching your reflection in the mirror as you sit down on his legs that he managed to close again in the three seconds it took you to do so. 

You're breathing hard by the time he accommodates you both on the chair, his very clear erection pressing against your ass and lower back and making you dizzy at what you're looking at. 

The image on the mirror is clear, it allows you to see both your reaction and his reaction when you fidget without thinking about it on his lap and the friction it causes brings you a whisper of pleasure. 

“You're a dream, Y/N,” he says and you can tell it came out of his mouth without really thinking about it. Finally, he moves his hands and his nails press on the skin of your shoulders, goosebumps evident and tremor barely concealable when he drags them down the length of your arm and over your hands that rest on top of your knees. 

He covers them with his and you stop following his movements in the mirror to look at his face “Can I?” 

You swallow and then nod and he giggles, this hard facade he has on slipping as he presses a reassuring kiss to your shoulder “Can you say it, my love?” 

“Yes,” you say quickly, your voice betraying you “Please.” 

He closes his eyes, a curse under his breath. “Don't beg me, princess, I got you.” 

You can't help but be curious and, although this is something you can find out as the night goes on, you end up wondering out loud either way: “Why? You don't like it?” 

He shakes his head, that hardness in his expression returns when he opens his eyes to look at you and the curious glint of your expression through the mirror. 

“Do you enjoy it when I beg you, Yunho?” 

And then you slightly move on his lap, trying to pass it like an absentminded movement. 

He sees right through it and the realization shows on his face. 

“Ah,” he laughs, back falling against the chair and head lolling back, “are you going to be a brat, princess?” 

Your mouth quirks at the quick and accurate read he gives your attitude. 

“Of course you are.” 

Again, the bravery your amusement gives you is short lived. He uses his hands over yours to open your legs and his, fast, earning a surprised squeak out of you. Your first instinct is attempting to close them but he huffs and perches your legs on his. You loop your feet around them to avoid falling forward at the lack of things to hold on to. 

This way, your panties are on full display as well. They're simple cotton white panties and there's a wet patch in the middle of them that grows a little at the display, at the image you see in the mirror. 

Yunho curses under his breath again. 

“You're my dream,” he says, a little bit distracted again and then he remembers himself. “I don't like people begging me, I don't give them the time to.” 

Raising your eyebrows, you're about to protest because you don't want to hear about his encounters with anyone else, but he won't let you. 

“One time, I almost had a fight with a friend over teasing. You know her, Mingi's girlfriend,” he says and you don't know if he's smiling at the memory or at the way you squirm under his touch when his fingernails start dragging over the skin of your inner thighs slowly. “I told her the truth: I'm too impatient to tease. She said it's necessary, I said I never needed to tease anyone to get with them and it went on for almost an hour.” 

He reaches the plush that has formed on your inner thighs and you can physically feel your centre growing wetter. 

“I never got it,” he insists and, when he pretends that he's going to touch you where you need it the most only for his touch to go back down the expanse of your thighs, you let out dissatisfied huff. “Now I think I do.” 

“Yunho…”

“You wanted to beg?” He asks, mouth against your ear and hot breath on your cheek. “I can make you beg.” 

You give in almost immediately. 

“Please,” tongue wetting your lips, you attempt to move in order to get some sort of relief but he's quicker than you. Strong hands hold your hips steady and you puff out some air again. “Please touch me.” 

It's clear the whine on your voice affects him because he pants against your cheek, nudges your face with his nose and then dives with his lips to kiss your neck again. 

“Be still, princess.” He commands and you stop trying to wiggle against him, only to rest your back against his chest when he brings his hands down in a caress and holds you fully open for him again. “I got you, but do as I say.” 

He takes your nod as an answer this time and his lips travel down your neck, to the skin of your back and then your shoulder. You watch in the mirror as his teeth catch the strap of your nightgown and, when he speaks again, it's a little muffled because of it.

“Can I take this off you?” 

You take a breath before replying “Yes.” 

And then he slips the strap off your shoulder with his teeth and you swear you're ruined for everyone else entirely. 

There's no way anyone is going to make you tremble like he did just now.

He goes ahead and does the same to the other strap, hand quick in catching the gown from falling completely. 

“Should I?” 

“Yunho… Stop teasing me.” 

He chuckles and takes his time to redo what he just undone: he pulls the strap on your left shoulder up again, switches the hand that's holding your second to last piece of clothing up, and does the same to the other strap. 

“But you look so pretty in it.” 

Your skin heats up harder than ever before. 

“You look so pretty like this, all breathless and ready for me to touch you… Do you know how happy it makes me that I can touch you, princess? That you’re in my lap and not in my head?” 

You swallow back a whine “Y-you thought about me like this?” 

“I dreamed about you like this,” he kisses the nape of your neck and then focuses his attention on the shoulder he neglected before, “for months.” 

You hum in acknowledgement at his words, but your mind is elsewhere because his hands return to their ministrations on your inner thighs and it's hard to concentrate on anything else but the pad of his thumbs ghosting over your panties as they move. 

He finally concedes and lets his hands wander upwards until they get ahold of the hem of the nightgown and, in one swift movement, you're left in nothing but your underwear in front of him. 

Well, in front of the mirror. He's watching the reflection of your body carefully and you can barely spare a look at it, breath caught in your throat at his reaction. 

When he sees your naked torso, he fully lets out a moan. 

You feel slick rush out of you at the sound but don't turn to yourself to verify what exactly about you made him react that way, made him get even harder against your ass. 

“God, look at you.” 

Breathing hard, you turn your head slightly so that your nose touches his and you think he's about to drop it, give in and kiss you when you feel his thumb and index pressing against your cheek, turning your head to the reflection again. 

“Is this okay?” 

You know he's referring to the hold on your face and you mumble out a yes, still looking at him through the mirror. 

“I said, look at yourself.” 

You do. 

Legs open and still perched on top of his, white panties turning a little see through due to your arousement and nipples pebbled in full display, you allow yourself to enjoy the two seconds of clarity before your body starts to shape shift in your head, before your thoughts turn you undesirable and before you fall into your dysmorphia. 

Yunho is right there to catch you, though. 

“Do you know how lucky I am that you're even allowing me to see you like this, Y/N?” 

The hold on your face relaxes and you follow the movement of his hand, down until it settles on your throat, relaxed, not even putting any pressure. 

“Still okay?” 

You nod. 

He puts in slight pressure now and, when you moan, he chuckles but doesn't say anything to acknowledge what makes him laugh. Instead, his hand keeps descending until his fingers rests in between your breasts and then he softly cups one of them, thumb passing over your nipple and making you jump at the sudden contact before letting go. 

“So fucking pretty. You see this?” His fingers take hold of the skin of your tummy that connects with the curve of your waist and he pinches slightly, making you squirm and tickling you a bit. “Everything you are, everything you have makes my heart beat,” he kisses your shoulder again, “and my dick hard,” and again, “and makes me want to prove to you that there's no one in this world that can come close to you, not in my eyes, my love.” 

Oh, my God. 

He says it in a way that makes you want to believe him. And, deep down, you know you do. 

Even though it's complicated, even though it takes effort to make years and years of self-loathing disappear, you know you can try. 

Because you desperately yearn to see yourself from Yunho's point of view. 

This time, when you turn to kiss him, he doesn't put up any restraint. His dominant mask slips off of him for just a second when you grab his face, pliant mouth moving at the rhythm and pace yours is marking, a whine getting muffled with your tongue. 

He gives your legs rest, closing his legs (and, in consequence, yours as well) and, when you tug at his hair so you can mark his neck down at the weird position you're in, he groans and you want to smile but he's searching your lips before you can even leave a bruise on his skin. 

“I love you, I love the way you think about me, I love what you make me want to think about me,” you assure him when you pull back to look at him. His cheeks are red and his lips are swollen and you love the way they're parted as he recovers his breath. 

“Lesson learned?” 

“Mhm,” you kiss his lips again and take the hand resting your waist, bringing it down to your clothed sex so he can feel how wet you are “now please, would you touch me?” 

“Fuck, you really do love to beg, hm?” He says and it's breathy, like he can't actually believe, and he doesn't give you time to respond because he's already kissing you again. “Let's go to bed.” 

“W-wait.” 

“Yeah?” 

The way you glance at the mirror is a dead giveaway of what you truly want. It makes him take in a sharp breath and grab your face in between his hands, fascination written all over his expression. 

“Do you want to watch when I touch you?”

You breathe out a moan in response.

“You want to watch yourself while I make you come?” 

A little shy but with resolve, you nod. 

He curses. 

Next thing you know, your legs are perched over his again and they’re wide open. Your arms fly back to hold onto him, onto anything that helps you not fall on your face but then his perfect, veiny hand presses on your torso and you fall back comfortably into his embrace again. 

He wastes no time, lips marking a path from your shoulder to your neck and fingers ghosting your clit over your panties and you whimper, impatience making you move against his crotch and making him grunt at the friction. 

“I k-know you just s-said you just discovered the joy of t-teasing but can you please do somet— Fuck!” 

His thumb presses on your bundle of nerves over the cotton and you can’t help but shake. 

It has been a while since you’ve even touched yourself truly, with want and need behind. It’s been a while since someone else touched you there, period, so the sensation feels new and you kind of feel like an overly inexperienced woman with the way you can’t help the immediate build up when he starts moving his thumb.  

It’s electric and you notice that your eyes closed the second he touched you, so you remember yourself. You remember what you asked for, what you actually want to see. 

When you open them again and look at Yunho, you find him already looking at you. His parted lips turn into a proud smile when he catches your eye and he nods, kisses trailing up to your ear, teeth nipping at the skin. 

“Good girl.” 

Fuck. 

He stops his movements to let his index, middle and ring finger cup your sex entirely, press into the fabric and let it soak with your arousal. You see in the mirror and you watch, with fascination, how he manages to twist the cotton to the side and expose your pussy for you both to see with the same hand. 

“You’re so wet, princess, I bet you taste so good…” 

Your brain short circuits and malfunctions when he finally touches you without anything in between his skin and yours. His index reaches out and collects the evidence of how much 

you want him, of how much you want him and you moan when the fabric snaps against your pussy when he lets go of it. 

“Do you?”

He toys with the stickiness on with his fingers, rubs it in between them and then brings his hand up so you’re able to see it without the mirror’s help. 

“Look at me,” you do, obedient, “and open up.” 

You open your mouth and allow his fingers to get in and rest against your tongue. You suck out of instinct, eyes never leaving his, and he gulps as he watches you taste yourself until your arousal transfers from his fingers to your tongue. 

“Let me taste it now.” 

Licking into his mouth, the fingers that were previously on yours settle on your throat, not allowing you to fully lean in and kiss him like you want but, instead, letting him have control of it. 

You swear you see stars when he sucks his tongue into his mouth and he hums, pleased with the taste. 

“You taste so fucking good.” 

Letting you go, you’re breathing hard when he pushes you a bit to put some distance between the both of you. 

“Get up and take these off.” He snaps the elastic of your panties and the sting against your skin makes you whine. 

You can’t think, can’t speak, can’t do anything but wait for him to lead your actions and the consensual loss of control feels so freeing that it makes you dizzy. So you oblige, getting off his lap and allowing him to turn you around so that your ass faces the mirror. When you look at him, he’s looking at the reflection and not you, so you decide, with a boost of confidence because of the hunger in his eyes, to give him a little show. 

You bend over, forehead almost touching his chest and proceed to take off your underwear that way. You open your legs a little, giving him a clear view of it when the fabric falls from your legs and pools at your ankles and, when you twist your head to the side to look at his reaction, his tongue is out and licking his bottom lip like he’s starving for it. 

For the first time ever, you feel both sexy and desired at the same time. 

He reaches for your ass in a way you’re not so sure it’s calculated and you fall fully into his chest with a soft moan when he opens you up for him even more. 

“So hot,” he says, low, under his breath, like he’s not even thinking before he speaks and he lets his fingernails drag on your skin (something you’re learning he enjoys doing and that you also like, a lot) until his hands fall to his knees again. “Fuck.” 

He still hasn’t even touched you properly and you already feel drunk on his touch. You feel that way, at least, when you prop your hands against his chest and push yourself up. He turns you around quickly, sits you on his lap with your legs open again and sighs. 

“I’m not going to make you beg for it anymore when all I want to do is watch you come, princess.” 

Arm around your middle, he presses you flush against his chest and takes your right hand in his. It allows you to let go of the grasp you have on him a little and, when he guides your own fingers to your pussy, you get why. 

“Show me how you like it.”

You feel lewd, exposed and dirty in a way you never thought you would enjoy. But here you are, craving 

“Yunho…”

“Show me,” he insists, “so I can learn.” 

Isn’t it a little bit funny that he sounds like he’s the one begging you when he speaks? 

You show him. Starting with collecting a bit of your slick, you drag a finger upwards from your entrance to your clit and then, only when you can see it fully glistening in the mirror, is when you press down and caress it in circular motions that send electricity through you right away. 

As you do with everything, this is something that, although you don’t really have time to even think about doing most of the days, you have perfected. There’s a science to it, a method that you’ve discovered via need and lust and that has never been so thoroughly explored than right now. 

It’s like you have kept your needs like a nasty little secret inside of your heart, just like you did with your love for Yunho, and you’re letting it all out. 

You pick up the pace, alternating from circles to side to side motions and the pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming. Or have you been touching yourself for him for minutes now? Time disappears in every sound you unconsciously let out, it blends with the glint of passion in Yunho’s eyes and it dissolves in an orgasm that quickly takes over you and shakes you forward. 

“That’s it,” he mutters with his lips against your temple and his hands holding you steady. “Now’s my turn.” 

He replaces his hands with yours, bats your fingers away when you try to prolong your pleasure and takes over at a relentless pace, overstimulating you.

It goes on like that for a minute or so where you shake and you readjust in his lap and you shake again when he bucks your hips and you feel him firm against your ass. You desperately want to help him feel this way, too, but there’s only so much you can do when he teases your entrance with his index and finds you relaxed enough to put it in slowly. 

Slowly until it glides in and out smoothly and you hold onto your forearm, and whimper and his name spilling from your lips in bliss when his ring finger joins. You hope you don’t look too delirious, you wish you’re not making a fool of yourself for feeling the heat pool on your lower belly so quickly again. 

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m—” 

“Don’t look at me or what I’m doing, look at yourself.”

Huh?

“W-what?”

“Watch yourself come,” he reiterates, breathless and, when you disobey and look at him through the reflection, he’s already focused on your face, mouth hanging open and brows furrowed with determination. “I want you to see how beautiful you look coming all over my fingers, Y/N.” 

He curves them upwards and the sensation somehow intensifies “Shit.” 

“Come, Y/N.”

You’re not sure if you’re able to prove his words to be true. When you come undone, you’re looking at yourself and in the mirror is someone you don’t exactly recognize. Someone you don’t perceive as yourself because, yes, the person staring back at you is beautiful. And that person looks sexy and sensual and is glowing with pleasure written all over their face but they’re not someone you have categorized in your brain as you. 

And then you understand. This raw, pure, unfiltered state of you is something you hadn’t reached before. Naturally, you had never seen yourself come. And you hadn’t been handled with so much care through an orgasm before, so you lived it fully and then, only when you stop shaking and your legs fall from his and your feet are on the floor, holding your weight steady, is when you allow yourself to look away from your reflection and turn to the man responsible for the best orgasm of your life. 

His lips are quivering, his eyes are closed and his chest rises and falls against your shoulder as he holds you to him. 

“You… Jeong Yunho…” 

He smiles, probably at the way your voice trembles and gives away just how fucked out you already are, but he doesn’t open his eyes  “Yes?” 

“My turn.” 

When he opens his eyes, you’re already standing up in front of him, his hands shifting on your body, the fingers that just made you see stars leaving a wet trail on your skin before they settle on your stomach. 

And, although he seemed tough and dominant just a minute ago, he puts no resistance when you grab his arm and make him stand up as well. You get on your tippy toes to nuzzle his nose with yours and he holds onto you again as you stumble backwards, towards the bedroom. 

“You’re too dressed, Jeong.” 

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy me in a dress shirt,” he says, a smug smile in his lips when your back hits a wall and he presses his body to yours, “prepping you to take my coc— F-fuck, princess.”

Your hand teasing his erection over the fabric of his expensive pants is enough to shut him up. Good, you already let him have his fun (and yours, by consequence) and, even if you enjoyed the loss of control, there’s something equal parts rewarding and hot about winning it back with the simple press of your thumb where you believe his leaking tip is. 

“You’re too overconfident sometimes, Jeong,” you whisper against his lips and it may be your two amazing orgasms or the way you love to have something over him, a little bit of power at least, that make you overly confident right now as well. He puckers out to kiss you but you don’t budge. “Want to see if you prepped me right?” 

It’s a question for consent. You have to make sure he wants you this way, too. That this is fun for him, too. And when he pauses your heart feels like it stops for a second, just like time. 

But right after there’s this quiet agreement you both come to and his mouth devours yours as you move in tandem, in coordinated effort to undress him: You loosen his belt and work on the button of his pants while he unbuttons his shirt and both your feet move with synchronized steps until he’s falling on the bed and you’re getting on your knees in front of him. 

He, however, stops you with a hand caressing your face softly. 

“Later,” he mutters with a soft smile that’s laced with something passionate and lewd you feel you’re about to discover. He leans in, teeth catching your bottom lip and pulling until you’re whining and you taste a little blood on your mouth. “I need to fuck you right now.” 

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You do however make sure to peel his underwear off him while you’re on your knees, the size of him making you wet and ready all over again.

When you stand up, he grabs your tired legs to pull you closer. It feels like a pause in the middle of passionate urgency, but when he takes his time to kiss under your belly button and the expanse of your hips, you feel like it only adds fuel to the fire. 

The fact that he’s even taking the time to explore you makes you want to combust.

“Oh.” He bites you right over your hip bone and you take his hair into your fingers, pulling him back. “Y-you said you needed to fuck me?” 

“I do,” he laughs against your skin and then leans back, taking him with you and you let him, falling on your side before he pushes you against the mattress, body covering yours and palms touching you all over. “I just enjoy taking my time with you.” 

“I can see that, Jeong.” 

He’s distracted again within the second, looking down your body and taking you in like it’s the first time he’s seeing you even though he had a clear view of you and your pussy in the mirror five minutes ago.

And there’s this urge that takes over you, you can’t even fight the words that come out your mouth next.

“Make love to me.” 

He pauses again and then your words register in his brain, you can see the exact moment they hit him and you think you see him tear up a little before he blinks the deep emotion away to focus on the moment. You have to do the same. 

“I will. Every day of my life, if you ask me to, if I’m so lucky to.”

The rest of the night, from the moment he says those words, kisses you and moves you so you’re in the middle of the bed, it all passes in slow motion. 

And it all passes really fast, too. 

Yunho makes love to you. He enters you while looking into your eyes and whispering how much he loves you against your lips and you say it back. He holds your hand as his hips move and his length drags deliciously inside of you. He marks your chest with his lips and your heart with his love and he closes his hands over yours when his pace picks up and he allows to lose himself in the moment too. 

You make love to him as you push him onto his back, his pretty face all flushed, the pink coloring his neck and his chest where you hand rest as you ride him and watch his control slip from him, as you memorize his moans and grunts and as your walls squeeze him in before coming again on his cock and it only takes to firm, hard strides for him to spill himself inside of you as well, the prove of your love making spilling out of you a little when he holds you to his chest and he pulls out of you, both of you sated, both of you in love. 

It feels like an hour has passed when someone speaks again, the silence in the room comfortable and accompanied by the beats of both your hearts. In reality, it’s only been around ten minutes where you’ve closed your eyes and breathed the remnants of Yunho’s cologne, cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers drawing random figures on your naked back. 

You decide to break the silence when you remember something. 

“I think they forgot my room service.” 

There’s a pause and then Yunho is laughing loudly and it makes you smile. His chest vibrates and you can see, on your peripheral, how he covers his eyes with his forearm. 

“I’m being serious, I ordered like three hours ago.” 

“Maybe they knocked and we didn’t hear them,” he mumbles tiredly and you finally look up, chin pressed where your cheek was a second ago. “We were pretty… Busy.” 

“That’s worse, Jeong!” 

“Why?” He asks, genuinely clueless and then it clicks for him. He brings down his arm and opens his eyes wide with shame. “Oh, my God.” 

“Mhm.” 

“How are you going to look the receptionist in the eye?” 

“She knows me, too. She asked me to take a picture with her  when I check out.”

Yunho sighs and says nothing. He looks at you, hand on your back moving until it reaches your face and he lets his knuckles trace your nose in a way that makes you scrunch it. 

“I forgot you were famous.” 

“We both are,” you w-hisper back, lips forming a thin line as you think. “I mean, if someone leaks that we’re both here, it won’t look weird because we’re supposed to be together.” 

“Supposed to?” He frowns. 

“Well, yes, to the public at least.” 

Yunho pouts. 

He pouts and your stomach twists and turns with nerves and butterflies. You’re joking, kind of. 

“Are you not my girlfriend, Y/N?” 

Oh, he’s adorable. It’s so easy to tease him when you’re both not at each other’s throat. 

You wonder if you’ll ever have a fight again, your heart weak for him even when you try to keep the joke going. 

“I haven’t been asked to be anyone’s girlfriend…” 

The deadpan expression that follows your quip breaks your resolve entirely and you laugh, hiding your face on his chest as he mumbles something you don’t catch. 

“What?” You look up at him again. 

“I said that you’re annoying and that you are my girlfriend.” 

“No, I think you said that you love me.”

There’s something so reassuring in the way the annoyance disappears from his expression and it’s replaced by something sweet and he looks like he can barely fight the words back when he replies with: “Yeah, I do.” 

You hum, happy with his response “I thought so.” 

Pressing your cheek against his skin again, there’s only two seconds of silence before his hand is on your shoulder and shaking your body. 

“Say it back, Y/N.” 

“So needy,” you tease and he shakes you again, groaning, so you sigh and pull away from his body to sit up a little. “I love you too.” 

He leans into your space, a blissful smile curving his lips before he pecks your mouth in a sweet, short kiss “Good,” he whispers, falling against the pillows and dragging your body with his so that you’re resting against the soft material as well. “When did you come back?” 

“A week ago.” 

“Hm,” his hands return to your body, fingernails dragging softly up and down your arm, “your family doesn’t know.” 

At the mention of them, you close your eyes and squeeze, reality washing over you. 

“I’m sure my mother does.” 

“She doesn’t,” he assures you, “she would’ve mentioned it by now and she only talks about the project you’re going to lead once you’re back.” 

You open your eyes “What project?” 

“I’m not sure,” he says softly, “I thought you were already leading one?” 

“Something like that,” you nod. “I, um… Was networking in a way, gathering new information on new companies to invest in and help their growth. Small business with original concepts that we can boost or help bring to the city and all of that.” 

“Did you have fun on the trip?” 

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully, “I did. I met a lot of people, I visited places I never even knew existed, I also learned a lot about myself and about what I want… And I got away from Satan for a while.” 

He knows you mean your mom, so he snorts out a laugh and shakes his head at the jab. 

“I missed you a lot, though.” 

His amusement dies slowly but happiness remains on his face. You’re sure yours is a reflection of his, as well. 

“I missed you too,” he answers in a murmur and you nuzzle the hand that reaches your cheek before giving it a kiss. “I’m glad you had fun and it sounds like being away helped but… Never do it again.” 

“Oh?” You try to tease but he insists. 

“Never leave without telling me again, please,” his whisper sounds like a plea and your heart beats louder. “I’ll miss you too much.” 

There’s an impulse, a need that soars through your blood. “I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get away again but, when I do, you can go with me.” 

“I will,” he answers right away and at the confirmation that you want him there with you, you see the tension slip away from his features, “my bags are already packed and all.” 

“I bet they are,” eyes rolling back in annoyance, you press a palm on his chest and push him a little. “Needy.” 

“Shut up.” 

There’s a lot of things to talk about. A lot of things you want to tell him, to mention, to bring up and discuss with him. Like what happens after you leave this bubble you’re floating in, if you tell your brother and his right away, if he’s going to tell his friends or wait until you’re a little far along in the friendship to do so. 

You have to ask him if he wants to tell your parents like… Ever. You’re not so sure you even want to. 

But he shuffles and moves until his naked chest is against yours and his hands are around your body, chin resting on the top of your head as he yawns. 

There’s this feeling of calmness that washes over you as you consider that, maybe, this can be the way you fall asleep from now on. No sleeping or sleepless nights, just Yunho’s embrace and his steady breathing above you, the beat of his heart, a lullaby that lulls you until your eyes are closing and tiredness takes over your senses. 

This time, you dream about a future together and nothing more. 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and please remember the next part it's much shorter and would be the end of this mini series!

© jensthwa, 2025.

[elllisaaa]

no nut november - lee minho (winner)

-> pairing : minho x fem!reader

-> words count : 2.1k

-> genre : smut, etablished relation

-> warnings : dom!minho, dirty talk, praising, unprotected sex, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, use of 'good girl', 'kitten" and 'slut' (lovingly), overstimulation, spanking

+ the way i'm depicting minho does not represent him, it's only a work of fiction.

-> 18+ content bellow, minors dni

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated ! sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> masterlist | skz masterlist | no nut november

To say Minho was confident about his chances was an understatement. Honestly, he knew he wouldn’t have much competition, except maybe from Seungmin. Still, he followed the loss of all his members like the best show he had ever seen, teasing them endlessly. Some surprises came with the bet, like Jeongin being one of the last still going after the third week of November. But overall, they were all so predictable that Minho could have guessed how it would end. 

So when he received a message from Seungmin the 30th, saying that he was out, Minho knew that he had finally won. Just two days, and he could finally do all the things he was constantly thinking about for these past weeks to you. It hadn’t been an easy win, he must say. He almost lost just once, when he was making out with you on your couch during a movie night. But he managed - God knows how - to contain himself and stay strong. 

Even though he didn’t lose control doesn’t mean that he didn’t get crazy over you for the smallest things. Like this one time when you were applying your gloss, getting ready for the date Minho had planned for the two of you. The act was innocent, no ulterior motives - of course, you were so sweet, didn’t do anything to try and make him lose - but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to other places. He couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips wrapped around his cock, couldn’t stop thinking about those same glossy lips covered in his cum, as well as your perfect face. But these fantasies were all he would authorize himself, or else, he would have gone mad by now. 

On your side, even if this challenge was frustrating too, it was also very amusing : seeing your spoiled boyfriend, who used to get what he wanted from you immediately, struggling to keep the last pieces of his sanity together was funny. Very funny. But you knew that you wouldn’t be laughing at the end of the month, most likely screaming and crying underneath Minho. But you knew that as soon as his primal needs and yours would be fulfilled, he was gonna be the sweetest boyfriend ever. And you couldn’t wait to hold him and fall asleep in his arms.  

Therefore you weren’t surprised when you heard someone knocking at your door at midnight precisely. Minho hadn’t tell you anything but you were sure that as soon as he could, he would come and fuck you. That’s exactly why you decided to stay awake, watching your favorite film and patiently waiting for him to show up at your door. You couldn’t help the little smirk that tugged at the corner of your lips as you unlocked the door of your apartment to reveal the well-known silhouette of your boyfriend, leaning on the wall and wearing the same smile as you. 

“- Have you missed me, kitten ?

- Well, come and find out.”

It didn’t take more than that for him to grab your waist, pushing your body against his already rock hard member, and to kiss you like he needed you to breathe, like you were his oxygen. And in a sense, it was true. This month without you, without feeling your skin under his hands, without feeling your touch. This month was really what he had pictured when he imagined hell. 

“- You’re not gonna be able to walk tomorrow kitten…

- Good, because I want you to ruin me.”

You didn’t even notice that Minho closed the door until he pushed you against it, his tongue playing with yours like he wanted to win a fight he had already won anyway. He always won. And if he didn’t, it was only a moment of peace before he took the lead again. But honestly, you weren’t complaining right now : you had missed him too much to care, just like he had missed you. From the way he was groping every part of your body as he was undressing you from your shorts and hoodie, to the way he grunted when you ran your fingers through his hair. He clearly missed you as much as you did. 

“- Minho… Please, don’t tease…”

No answer came to your ears as he helped you get out of your last piece of clothing and got down on his knees. That was enough of an answer for you. You were already breathing heavily, anticipating Minho’s next move. One of his fingers ran along your clit, making you shiver and whine for more. You needed him. You needed to feel him. 

“- Already so wet for me… You missed me that much ?

- Yes, I missed you so much Min… Please, I need you….”

Your pleas were enough to convince him apparently because he immediately dived into your cunt, eating you out as if he was a man starved. A sigh left his lips when your taste engulfed him. Fuck. He missed your taste, missed your moans, missed your hands tugging at his roots, missed the way you were grinding against his face. He missed it all even if it was worth it. 

But what was even more worth it was to relieve all this pent up frustration of the past month. Yes, it was torture most of the time, but Minho must admit that getting to touch you again after so long made him want to appreciate it even more, savoring every drop of your juices as if it was the most expensive champagne he ever got to taste, and taking his sweet time, listening to your moans like his favourite song. 

You quickly felt close to the edge, wanting nothing more than cumming on his tongues. And Minho knew the tale-tell signs of your orgasm by heart : how your thighs began to shake, how you lost the rhythm of your hips, how you tugged harder on his strands of hair. And after all you did for him this month, he was more than happy to offer it to you, sucking one last time on your clit and coaxing your first orgasm out of you. By the time he got to his feets, you were almost back to reality, your chest still heaving to your hitched breathe. 

“- You okay ?”

His fingers brushed softly against your cheek, a rough contrast with how messily he was eating your pussy just minutes ago, your arousal still coating his chin and lips. 

“- Yeah… You’re just too good at this.

- Wanna see all the other things I’m good at ?”

And he did show you. He put you on your knees for him, pushing his rock hard cock until it hit the back of your throat, grinning when you gagged around him. He fucked your mouth roughly, releasing all his annoyance of the past month until you milked him dry. Then, he played with you again, his fingers plunged as deeply as possible into your cunt, hitting your sweet every time he curled them in the right angle, making you cum for the second time before he got you on all fours. 

“- Gonna be a good girl and give me one more kitten ?”

You simply moaned by way of answer, but that didn’t seem to satisfy him as all you earned was a slap that made your ass jiggle, the sound echoing through your bedroom. You couldn’t see Minho’s face, but you could easily imagine the smirk playing on his lips. 

“- Use your words.

- Yes, yes I can… Please, fuck me…

- That’s better.”

Both of you knew that the act he was putting on would drop as soon as he slid in between your wet walls. His moans were almost louder than yours, his iron grip on your hips that will certainly leave marks holding you in place. It’s been too long. Too long since he tasted you, kissed you, touched you, fucked you. And now, finally buried deep inside of you, he found himself unable to move. Every now and then, your pussy fluttered around his shaft and he groaned while tightening his grip on your waist.

“- I’m sorry, I’m not gonna last long.”

His voice was already airy, cut out by little high-pitched moans every time he thrusted back into you. And that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard. It was a shame you couldn’t see his face right now, but the feeling of his heavy length pounding in and out of your cunt was already enough to bring you closer to your relief. You weren’t going to last long either, having missed being fucked by him too much.

“- Don’t care… S-So good Min…”

At this point, you were fucking yourself on his cock, and Minho stared down at your ass coliding with his abs everytime you moved backwards, moaning loudly everytime he hitted your sweet spot. It really was a sight to behold, and he didn’t miss a bit of it, his gaze lingering on your cunt swallowing him whole. 

“- You’re so fucking nasty baby, bet you fantasized about that every day, didn’t you ?”

You were so out of it that you couldn’t form any coherent word, and even less sentences, only whimpers leaving your lips. Minho chuckled from behind you, picking up on his pace and holding your hips still while he rammed into you at a much quicker rhythm. 

“- I am fucking you so good you can’t talk ? Is that it little slut ?”

You moaned in approuval, reliveing in the way his body now pressed into yours in the mattress, his lips brushing against your ear everytime he talked dirty to you. Minho knew how excited that got you. He wanted you to come before him, he wanted to feel the delicious ache of you getting impossibly tight around him before cumming too. 

“- Answer, or you’re not getting what you want.

- Y-Yeah ! 

- Yeah to what ? That’s not a proper response baby.”

The sweet name paired with his hand slapping your ass was degrading, borderline humiliating, but it felt so fucking good, tightening the knot in your stomach and bringing you so much closer to your climax.

“- You’re fucking me s-so good I can’t… Ah… I can’t talk.

- Good girl. Now you can cum.”

As if you only needed his permission to do so, you reached your breaking point, screaming in pleasure and your pussy contracting so hard around him he came almost immediately, moaning your name loudly as he spilled his load deep inside of you. Both of your orgasms were so intense your visions became white, tears almost spilling out of your eyes. For a moment, the only sound breaking the silence of your bedroom was one of your heavy breathing, trying to regain some strength to move from the position you were currently in, which was becoming quite uncomfortable. 

Minho rolled off from your body, laying on your side and bringing you close to him, not wanting to leave the warmth radiating from you. You immediately cuddled against him, settling your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent with an audible sigh of relief. 

“- That was undoubtedly the most powerful orgasm of my whole life.”

You giggled at his words, but you could only agree with him : it indeed was, and even if you weren’t certain that an entiere month of frustration was the better way of getting it, you were still glad for it.

“- Yeah, it was amazing but I’m gonna need a good shower.

- Does this mean round two ?”

You hit his toned chest playfully, rolling your eyes, but you didn’t miss his teasing smirk and he didn’t miss the way the corner of your lips were threatening to stretch out. 

“- That means we’re not doing that ever again. I missed you too much, it wasn’t really fun.”

Feeling you snuggle even more against him, Minho tightens his hold on you, one of his hands coming to caress your shoulders, his gaze softening. He lowered his head enough to be able to kiss the crown of your hair, burying his face inside just after, the perfume of your shampoo feeling familiar enough to totally relax him.

“- I missed you a lot too. But it was worth it seeing them losing one after another.”

You hit him again, but it only made him chuckle softly. You knew your boyfriend was very competitive, and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing after all, you thought, when you felt his hands sliding from your shoulder to your ass, squeezing them roughly. 

“- So… Round two ?”

-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my works.

taglist - @bangchans-angel @its-hannjisung @3rachasninja @boi-bi-ahaha @supergoopjudgepsychich @jaiuneamesolitaiire @starsandrqindrops @iwannabangchan69 @b3tOxic @fawnpeaks @lxrii @channiesgoodgirl @imsotiredandalsonineteen @bbchangbinnie24 @chrishak @cscsi @stayconnecteed @miserya99 @puppy-minnie @binwons @yoongles2025 @thicccurls @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @linosssss @channiesbedbug @whosanaanyway @coastalmaine @soobywiththebooty (if your pseudo is crossed out, it's because i can't tag you and you'll have to change your settings)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Failing

Summary: Joel made many mistakes. The biggest was leaving you.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Rating: G

Warnings: angst, a lot of inner thoughts, panic attacks, Joel and Ellie do not talk, Joel is a mess, lots of talk about being a failure and not good enough, messy breakup, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: This has been going through my mind since I saw the new pic yesterday. This is really different from everything I write usually, so let me know what you think. And yeah, come yell at me in my inbox

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

part one of invisible string

He knew he should have stayed home tonight.

He could have worked on… something. He could have talked himself into picking up his guitar and pretend everything was okay.

He could pretend that he wasn’t a failure.

He could pretend Ellie was still talking to him.

Instead he was here, the people around him celebrating god knows what, music playing, people dancing and he?

He was hoping to at least get a look at the girl that had become like a daughter to him. The daughter he lost because he lied to her.

Turned out his mother was right, lying was not getting him anywhere. 

He hadn’t talked to her in weeks, not getting more than a fleeting look at her from afar like a creepy stalker.

Tommy was right, he needed to give her time.

But somehow he felt like time was running out. 

Tommy had been right in a lot of things lately. Something Joel was not used to, still having the irresponsible young man in the back of his mind he had been before outbreak.

But Tommy wasn’t that man anymore.

He was a husband, a father, a respected leader of the little community he had helped build.

And Joel was…. He did not feel like he changed much. He was still angry all the time.

Angry at the world.

Angry at the people.

But most of all angry at himself.

The way he was feeling now? Alone and lonely?

He had no one but himself to blame for it.

It was moments like these that you came to his mind.

You would know what to do. You would know how to fix this mess that he got himself into. You always did. Until he had pushed you away for good, almost six years ago when he got even more involved in the underground in the Boston QZ.

Meeting and falling in love with you had been the only good thing that had happened to him since the outbreak. You had seen him, the real him.

The broken man that was desperate for… something.

That something seemed to be you.

But like every good that happened to him, he managed to fuck this up too. Not at first, but definitely in the end. 

And he tried. He tried to become a better person. Tried to become the man you deserved, not listening to you when you told him that he did not have to become a better person.

That you fell for him the way he was. With all flaws he thought he had.

But maybe if he had worked on himself he wouldn’t have reacted so poorly when you told him that you were pregnant.

Maybe he wouldn’t have blamed you and you only, taking the easy way out and telling you he would not go through this again.

He should have talked to you, instead of lashing out, should have told you how fucking scared he was about losing another child. About losing you. About raising a child in this fucked up world. About fucking up.

He did so anyway.

He chose to forget about the whole conversation the two of you had after you told him that you were pregnant and that you were intending to keep it from his mind. Or he tried. God, did he try.

But now, deep in the night, when he was laying awake and alone in bed, only the shadows of the night in his company, the words he spat to hurt you creeped back into his mind, not that they had ever been gone.

I don’t love you.

Get rid of it.

Get out of my life.

I never loved you anyway. 

He could still see the way your face crumbled, tears running down your cheeks. 

He broke you that night. And he broke himself. 

He thought about this last argument, this breakup a lot if he was honest with himself.

He never told you, not in words, how much he loved you. He took you for granted. He shouldn’t have been this surprised to learn that you had left the QZ days after he broke you. 

Not a day went by that he wondered what happened to you.

If you were alive.

If you kept the baby.

Would it have your eyes and his hair?

A boy or a girl?

Where they as stubborn as Sarah was?

Did you still love him as much as he still loved you?

Shaking his head he took a sip from the surprisingly good beer someone had offered him when he came here, his eyes wandering through the room, sneaking glances at Ellie who smiled at Dina, deep in conversation with the other girl.

Sucking his bottom lip in, his hand flexing on his side as he tried to find the courage to walk over to Ellie and ask her if they could talk, again, when he heard laughter behind him.

Laughter he heard before, a long time ago.

A laugh he heard in his dreams when his mind allowed him to dream about you instead of the nightmares that plagued him. 

Narrowing his eyes he tried to remember why he was hearing that laugh, why that voice that spoke in low tones now, made his heart flutter, when he saw Tommy walk towards him in a fast pace, his face worried.

“Joel,” he said but Joel wasn’t listening to him.

He was busy preparing for a breakdown that was creeping slowly into his body. 

Joel’s heart seemed to make the connection before his brain did, heart beating widely in his chest as he slowly turned around, his brother’s hand on his shoulder to keep him for turning. He shrugged it off with a grunt, bracing himself to be let down, that he was finally turning insane and imagining you when his eyes landed on you.

Blinking his eyes in disbelief he released a shaky breath when you were still there. 

You were sitting at one of the picnic tables, still as beautiful as he remembered a small smile on your face. A man had his arm wrapped around your back and in your lap sat a girl not older than five who had your eyes and his brown curls.

His heart stopped, he was sure of it.

“She got in yesterday. You were on patrol, I was trying to find you and tell you but….” Joel heard his brother say, but he ignored him.

You were here.

You were here.

And you were alive.

And you had a girl sitting in your lap that was….

His eyes widened when you leaned back and he saw a little boy sitting in the lap of the man next to you that looked like a mini copy of Joel himself.

His chest felt heavy.

Closing his eyes he tried to take deep breaths, but he just couldn’t.

This was too much.

This hurt too much.

This was the happiest he ever was.

“Joel?” he heard his name from his side, Ellie looking down at him worriedly as he pressed his hand against his chest, his eyes watering.

This was the first time she had talked to him in weeks and it might as well be the last time from the way he felt right now.

He was having a panic attack.

But it felt so much worse than it had ever before.

Looking away from Ellie he turned his head back towards you, finding you now looking at him with wide eyes.

“Deep breaths brother,” a strong arm came to pull him up and his frantic eyes found Tommy’s.

“In and out,” he said, trying to calm down his brother. Joel’s hands grabbed his brothers shoulders. Trying to mimic the way he was breathing but couldn’t.

“Joel?” he heard your voice, his head now turning towards you, finding you looking at him worriedly.

Joel shook his head, dark spots at the corner of his eyes.

“You’re here,” was the last thing he whispered before he passed out.

[faygosoda]

Angst w hyun-ju? Where reader gets attacked really badly during the special game and hyun-ju couldn't protect reader. Hyun-ju is like really worried because reader is like kinda on the verge of bleeding out and dying

A/N: Oh yeahh my first req!! I hope I did this justice n Im sorry if she comes off as ooc!!

Title: So Much Lost

“Fuck..” you mumbled, hand holding your side as you stumble into one of the beds, tears welling in your eyes.

Stupid games, stupid debt, stupid bob having druggie stabbing you with the fork..

You held back a groan as your knees became weak, left hand bracing yourself on the post of the bed.

You didn’t want to worry the others with this but considering the fact that you were on the verge of passing out and bleeding (which was such a lame way to go), you would have no choice but to tell someone..

Something just always had to go wrong in your life- family abandoning you, forcing their debt on you, a fuck ass love life, and more AND now you have a stab wound.

Great. At least I’m away from the others.. this would just cause more pani-

“(Name)?…. Holy shit-“

Fuckkkk, of course Dae-ho found you.. always the one to search and help those in need.

“Dae-ho listen don’t go and tell-”

“Like hell I won’t!” He runs off as you groan your left hand which wasn’t currently putting pressure on your side slapping your forehead.

Multiple rushed footsteps are heard from god knows where.

“(Name)!”

“Oh my goodness-”

“Everybody move out the way!”

Blah blah lots of talking lots of worry and concern from who knows who..

You didn’t really pay attention to who was saying what besides one voice that belong to the one person you had came to admire the most throughout the days of being here.

“Hyun- Hyun-Ju..”

It was a quiet mumble but able to be heard from her attentive ears.

“I am right here (Name), stay awake for me okay? Who did this to you?”

Her words were shakey along with her hands that came up to sit you up as.. Gi-Hun? Yeah, Gi-hun and some of the others rushed around to find stuff that could possibly help.

“That- uh.. that one guy with the bob who w- was with the purple h- haired dude..”

I groan out, glancing down at the red spot that progressively got bigger, soaking through the fabric of my tracksuits zip up and onto my hand.

“Son of a bitch..” Hyun-Ju mumbled, tears evident in her eyes.

“D- definitely..” I slur, head falling back as my eyes close before a hand comes to my chin, making my eyes re-open.

“No. Keep your eyes open and look at me. Do not go to sleep.” Her hand hold your chin, turning it her way and you can’t help but look at her adoringly, eyes half lidded and a strained smile on your face.

“I.. I can’t- it hurts so much- I’m- I’m sorry I should’ve listened to- to you..” A choked sob comes from you, tears slipping down your face.

“Stop it- (Name), stop don’t apologize please do not- I can’t lose you too!” Hyun-Ju’s words are rushed yet quiet.

‘I can’t lose you too!’ Oh right, Young-Mi.. shot dead after the third game. One of the many people Hyun-Ju has lost besides her family and well.. now you

Your hands move up to hold her cheek and her hand that held your chin as your vision blurred, colored shapes of those who you now considered your friends gathered around the bed you sat up on.

“Young-Mi’s right.. you’re beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t say so earlier.. you make me nervous. Hyun-Ju, you- you have to make it out for- for me.. please Hyun-Ju.. Don’t let me hold you back.” You spoke quietly, eyes lidded to the point your lashes blocked view of the womans face that had tears falling down her cheeks.

Hyun-Ju nods, face leaning into your touch as she cries, shoulders shaking.

“I promise you I- I will (Name). For- for you.”

You smile, breath slowing down and a meek sound comes from your throat.

The last thing you hear are her sobs which continue to go on for who knows how long.

The only thing that riddles your mind is ‘what would have happened if we met under different circumstances?’

The end!

A/N: Hi guys thanks for reading that oneshot! I hope it was okay n I hope u liked it😇 I #hateangst cuz wdym that bob ho killed us I js wanna chill w my wife😢💔 SORRY THAT ITS SHORT, I WAS LWK BLANKING BUT FOR THE NEXT FF ILL TRY MY BEST TO MAKE IT LONGER!!

Btw pls send in my requests cuz this saved me from boredom💋

[kmoneymartini]

Drunk in love.

paige x reader

Warnings: SMUTTTTTTT with some plot, fluff, cussing, alcohol, pet names? (If that is one) I think that's all

A/n- this is my first fic. If it's terrible I'm open to constructive criticism! Also I literally live for Paige being a soft switch so that's literally all it is. Also I gave up on the ending bc i didn't know how to write it.

You were sitting next to Paige at the bar everyone goes to after a win. You could tell Paige was getting drunk because she's was getting a little more....handsy.

Right now her hand was rubbing up and down your thigh under the table while she talks about the highlights of the game to the team. Her fingers glide from your hip to your knee, her thumb ever so slightly on the inside of your thigh.

You and Paige had been friends since 6th grade when the blonde almost knocked you out during gym with a basketball. Figures.

"shoot, are you okay?" Little paige said.

"Yea I'm good, just dizzy."

"yea let's get you to the nurse, may have just given you a concussion.." she replied with concern.

Ever since then, y'all have been inseparable. Spending most weekends at each others houses or at her tournaments. She taught you the game of basketball. (Which you later came to love) And you rambled about the books you just finished. You were basically sisters.

When highschool started, Paige convinced you to join the Hopkins basketball team. At first you were adamant on just showing up for games, but blondie would not shut up about it till you tried out.

The next 4 years were the best of your life. Spending time with the team, especially paige. Going the state championships, and just being able to have fun.

Nothing changed when you both got into Uconn, She continued basketball while you studied literature and womens studies. You were always around the team, they loved you and you were practically part of the team.

Which leads us back to the bar. KK and Aaliyah dancing to the music blasting through the building while the whole team laughed and videoed them. Paiges hand still lingering around your leg as she drinks her Shirley Temple she swears has no alcohol. (Bull. Shit.)

"Paige you may want to slow down, you'll be miserable tomorrow." You say as she chugs her 3rd one down.

"nah baby I'll be fine."

"baby" that word. The word she uses when shes drunk and talks to you. The one that makes your heart stop, the one that makes your stomach fill with butterflies. The one that makes you wet asf. God you were so gay for this girl.

A few hours pass, and sleepy Paige is half awake on your shoulder while everyone starts to say their goodbyes.

"hey, p?" You say in a whisper

"hm?"

"Ready to go home?"

"mhm"

Now, just because you don't play basketball anymore, doesn't mean you don't go to the gym. Your pretty strong, strong enough to hold the 5'11 guard to the car. You pick her up bridal and haul her ass to the car near the entrance.

When you get home you wake Paige up again and walk her to your shared second story dorm, opening it up and locking the door behind you. Paige is a little more perky now, you made her eat crackers while she was still awake on the way home.

"Paige you wanna get a shower or just get comfy?"

"I'm tired" she clings onto you like she always does, always making you turn red.

"okay sweet girl, let's get you ready for bed." You help her to the bathroom and brush the gel out of her hair.

"you think you can get dressed on your own?" You ask

"Mhm"

"okay, get dressed and go to sleep okay?" You start to walk towards the door before she stops you.

"no, stay please"

"What?"

"stay here, please?" She begs

"Okay, let me change first."

"no, just wear one of my shirts, don't want you to go" she says as she stumbles to her drawer, grabbing a shirt with her name and number on the back.

You take the shirt and go into her connected bathroom to change before walking out. You see Paige staring you you.

"you look hot in my number"

"excuse me?"

You watch her look you up and down with a look of pure lust, making you wet by just standing there.

She gets up and walks towards you. "You look hot." "Extremely hot." You feel her hands on your waist, the sudden confidence she had, mixed with the tired rasp in her voice turned you on instantly.

"Paige, your drunk. Let's not do anything you'll regret." You say, your voice shaking slightly.

"mmm, I'm gonna regret not doing anything."

With that, your pinned against the wall, the taller blonds lips connected with yours. God she feels amazing. Her hands travel up and down your sides while yours find her hair.

"fuck, p. Please" your breathe between kisses.

"please what ma?" She replies.

"wanna feel good"

That's all you had to say before she whips you both around to her bed, laying you down gently without breaking the kiss. Her lips find their way to your neck just as her knee finds a way to your core. Causing you to moan from the sensation.

"paige please, fuck." You whine.

"shh, I'm gonna make you feel good baby, don't worry."

She lifts up your shirt, revealing the white sports bra underneath, which is also quick to come off.

"so pretty for me. So pretty." She praises as on of her hands travel to your tit, her mouth connecting to the other. You moan and arch your back, trying to get more friction to your clit.

her hand finds your heat, realizing you don't have shorts on, she starts rubbing your clothed bundle of nerves. The moans and whimpers coming from you surprise her. They sound almost pornographic.

"there you go ma, so wet for me." She whispers into your ear sending signals throughout your body.

"Paige please, please, fuck. Please fuck me"

She groans hearing your pleas for her. "Lift your hips up, princess." She guides your underwear down your legs and throws them on the ground before slowly pushing a finger into you. Earning a moan from you and a groan from her.

"good girl. so tight for me. Taking me so well." She praises.

"Paige more please. Please, need more"

She adds another finger, immediately curling them into your g-spot.

"Fuck baby please" the bubble in your stomach getting tighter and tighter as she moves her fingers.

"taking me so well pretty girl, so so good."

Paige feels you coming closer to the edge, so she dips her tongue into you, moving it with her fingers. A pornographic moan comes from your mouth as you tense up and shudder, cuming all over her fingers. She wastes no time cleaning up and helping you ride out your high.

"taste so good my gorgeous girl, so good."

After catching your breath with sweet kisses from Paige you lift yourself up on your elbows.

"wanna make you feel good paigey" you breathe out. "Please"

You sit up and kiss her, tasting yourself mixed with the alcohol on her lips.

"okay my love" she says, taking her shirt and bra off as well as her boxers.

You watch in awe, she beautiful. Her hair, her arms, her toned abs, god she's so pretty. You keep looking down until you see her soaking cunt.

"your beautiful" your say, still amazed.

You make your way to her clit. Floating your fingers and touching on the sensitive area lightly, making Paige squirm and whimper.

"please" she says, watching your every move.

You come up from her heat and kiss her lips, then her jaw, her neck, leaving a few hickeys and down her chest. Sucking slightly on her nipple and swiping over the other, hear her low moans.

"baby please please." She begs.

Hearing her become so vulnerable under your touch after giving you the best orgasm of your life gives you a confidence boost as you start bringing your hand down to her heat, sweeping your finger up and down her fold.

"doing good paige. So good." You whisper, finally dipping your finger into her, earning a gasp and moan from her mouth.

Realizing one finger would never get her to the edge, you add another, going faster and curling into the spot that makes her moan loudest.

"Fuck ma, please." She breathes

"I got you Paige, taking it so well."

You replace your fingers with your tongue. Dipping it into her heat as you suck at it, your nose hitting the bundle of nerves above her entrance.

She grips the shears, wrapping her legs around your head as you go deeper into her. Feeling her start to shake, you keep your pace, adding more pressure. You hear her get louder and finally scream from pleasure as she reaches her high.

You lick her clean before making contact with her lips again.

"so good baby, you did so well."

As both of you catch your breath, she wraps up into your arms and you fall asleep stroking her hair.

"god I fucked up."

~-TIME SKIP-~

In the morning, you wake up and realize what happened. Fuck. You end up carefully pulling yourself from the blondes tight embrace and start to gather and put on your clothes, but not before she wakes up.

"hey, what are you doing?" She asks groggly

"Paige I'm so sorry." You reply with watery eyes. Your scared for your friendship. You let your feelings take over. She was drunk and probably didn't feel the same.

"hey hey, ma come here" she says in a comforting tone.

You walk over to the bed with the naked guard wrapped up in blankets. She watches you sit down and look at her.

"I know I was drunk. But I wanted that. Don't feel like it was just a drunk hookup, at least for me? I feel like there's more to it." She explains, wiping a tear that fell to your cheekbone.

"really?"

"Definitely" she pulls you into her lap. Hugging you for a while before speaking again. "I want you to be my girlfriend"

"Paige what?" You pull away surprised

"be my girlfriend. I can't just live with you as my friend. I want you."

You think, not for long that is.

"why not" you peck her lips.

"fucking finally" she sighs, burying her face into your neck, leaving a small kiss there.

like I said, this was my first fic. I'm hoping y'all like it and thank you for reading till the end. I tried not using y/n because I thought it would be challenging so that happened.

[lilozzzyo]

Stay Still

Summary: Bucky Barnes comes back from a mission, and instead of going straight to the shower decides to come see you first Warnings: MDNI, female reader is smaller then Bucky, I don't own this man (but I guess I wasn't meant to be happy), General fluff, Bucky is touch starved, you got this man in the palm of your hands *wink*

Bucky had just made it back to tower and was just happy the "mission that wouldn't end" was finally over. The mission ended up being successful but not before he damaged his arm. He was covered in god-knows-what and all he wanted to do was see your face.

You and Bucky have only been together for a short while but originally became close in Wakanda. You are friends with Shuri and helped her with her manipulations of Vibranium. She was actually the one that asked you to help her work on Bucky's arm as well as to reprogram him. That was how the two of you met and after spending so much time together decided to date.

When he decided to move back to the tower he begged you to come with him and how could anyone say no to those eyes. So fast forward to now you are in your shared king bed trying stay awake wearing his dog tags and one of his shirts and a tiny pair of shorts waiting for Bucky to come back to you when you hear your door open. Bucky calls out "Doll? Are you awake?" You smile and jump up out of the bed to go hug him, when you stop dead in your tracks after seeing him. "What the fuck happened to you?" He sighs deep and says "what didn't happen, I messed up my arm and I just Ugh-" you interrupt him saying "hey it'll be okay, we can fix your arm but first lets get you into a hot shower, while I fix your arm"

Bucky is in the shower when you finish fixing his cleaning his arm before you start to fix it when you hear him grunt in frustration. You put his now clean arm down and run into the bathroom. "Baby what's wrong?" you stand on the outside of the shower curtain when he responds with irritation "I can't wash my hair with one arm UGH!" he sounds angry so you gently tell him "well how about you just finish showering and then I can wash your hair?" He is quiet and happy that you can't see him start to blush when he says "Are you sure?" making you giggle "Of course plus it's going to take me a minute to fix your arm, so this way you won't have to wait."

Bucky finishes his shower and puts on a pair of soft low hanging grey sweats. Now you're the one blushing, you and Bucky had only gone as far as cuddling, holding hands and a forehead kiss now and then. With his past trauma you didn't want to ever make him feel pressured to do anything physical. Upon seeing him you smile as he still looks a bit frustrated as he comes back into the bathroom. "So how do we do this?" You smile as you sit on the edge of the bathtub advising him to sit in the bathtub and rest his head in your lap as you start to detangle his hair with a comb. You take the shower head down and rinse his hair before gently massaging his scalp and shampooing his hair. You spend maybe a bit longer than necessary doing this because this is the most physical contact you two have ever had and it is clearly affecting you both.

Bucky does his best not to moan at the feeling of your nimble fingers massing his scalp and washing his hair. Due to all of his time at Hydra Bucky had issues interacting with the world around him physically which was not a problem until he met you. You were so kind and understanding of him and were always so patient, he doesn't know how he got to so lucky to have you. He does feel a bit self conscious when it comes to anything physical with you. He doesn't want to scare you away, but he wants to be closer to you but has trouble telling you what he wants. But now here he is with his head between your soft bare thighs as you massage his scalp. He worries you will notice his sweatpants getting tighter, but you seem too focused on his hair.

Bucky can barely hold you at night without feeling overwhelmed by your soft skin, your delicious scent, your little hums in your sleep. Bucky always feels so conflicted, he wants to touch you, to feel you, but it has been so long since he has felt this feeling that he doesn't know how to handle it. You gently move his head from side to side to effectively clean his hair, but by doing this it forces his head deeper in between your thighs. You feels him wrap his arm around your thigh making you gasp as he nuzzles into your skin to deeply inhale your scent. You feel his lips press against your inner thigh as you blush and continue to massage his scalp. "Bu-uughh-Bucky are you alright?" He finally lets out the moan he was holding in due to hearing your sweet voice, "I'm sorry doll, you just smell so delicious, especially from down here" Bucky's arm moves up and down you leg as you notice the a very large tent in his sweats. You bite your lip, "Well if I had known that all I had to do was wash your hair to get you nice and relaxed I would've done this months ago. How about we finish washing your hair and then we can go to bed? How does that sound baby?" Bucky nods against your thigh feeling drunk off your scent, as you work to finish his hair.

I have had this stuck in my head since I saw this man long hair! Just had to get this idea out of my head, hope you all enjoy :D