#and that everything works out before the deadline

[4ttack-ur-heart]

Dr. Zayne will handle it.

Pairings: Zayne x afab! Reader

Summary: Zayne finds out your gyno appointment is going to be with a male doctor and he’s less than happy about it.

Warnings: not really any just Zayne being jealous yet respectful, idk if I wrote him ooc or not… but it’s a learning experience lol.

Ps- it’s a lil shorter than what I normally write but I have so many ideas brewing.

————

Zayne’s fingers type quickly on his laptop, a warm cup of tea steeping next to him. His glasses are perched on the bridge of his nose with the lenses reflecting reports and patient files. He had promised only an hour of working in his home office while you stayed with him.

He could hear your voice in the main room arguing with whomever you spoke with. After your tone sharpened slightly, he decided to close his computer, remove his glasses, and see what was happening.

“No, I’ve been waiting for this appointment for two months! There has to be something else you can do.” You plead with frustration.

Zayne raises a brow, wondering what kind of appointment has you so stirred up. He watches as you angrily huff and say goodbye before ending the call. Your phone is tossed to the couch carelessly and you rub your face in your hands.

He carefully comes up behind you, his large hands covering your shoulders and the pads of his thumbs gently massage the tissue.

“Is everything okay, dear?” Concern is evident in his voice.

You nod and turn around to face him. “Yeah, just my stupid gynecologist.”

Zayne remains quiet, obviously waiting for you to continue.

“I’ve been trying to see this specific doctor because the association recommended her, but they just called me and said they overbooked her for this month and she won't be able to see me."

“Why does the association even have a recommended gynecologist?”

His questions hung in the air for a few moments while you scooped up your phone from the couch.

“I guess Dr. Lina is the best in her field. Kinda like how you’re the best cardiologist- most hunters try to see you instead of anyone else for heart issues. I guess it’s the same for her, and since a lot of hunters are women, the association trusts her to handle any issues for us.”

Zayne hums in understanding and places a tender kiss on your temple, his hand stroking your back to relax you. “So, what are you required to do now?”

You let out a sigh, “They can either reschedule me a month from my original appointment or I have to see the other gynecologist that the association recommended… who’s a guy.”

He tenses up and his hand stops moving.

Zayne maintained a high level of professionalism in his interactions with female patients. He recognized that the primary objective of doctors, including himself, is to assist individuals in need. Nevertheless, he experienced a sense of jealousy at the chance of another man observing you in a vulnerable situation.

“And are you comfortable with that?” His voice grows more cold and tense.

You pull your lip that you were chewing on from between your teeth, “Not really… that’s why I was waiting for Dr. Lina. If I’m not cleared soon, then I’ll have to be put on desk duty until I am.”

The foreboding future of being limited to desk duty when you weren't even physically injured was sure to make you go crazy. It was one of the most frustrating things about being a hunter- forget the wanderers, no, it was staying on top of all the appointments to ensure you were completely healthy. Dental appointments, eye exams, physicals, and now gynecology.

“I’ll miss my deadline if I wait for her,” frowning, you collapse onto the sofa in defeat. “Hello desk duty for the next month.”

You glance up at Zayne, searching for a hint of his thoughts on the situation, but he simply exhales through his nose, a silent acknowledgment of your frustration. He settles beside you, and you allow yourself to rest against his chest, feeling the cool steadiness of him. As you roll your eyes at the absurdity of it all, you pull out your phone to dial the clinic once more. Unbeknownst to you, Zayne’s gaze is intently fixed on the screen, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“I’ll just book with that other doctor,” you say dejectedly.

Zayne's hand clamps down on your wrist with a surprising intensity, preventing you from dialing the number. Shock floods your senses, and as your gaze meets his, you can't help but notice the piercing coldness in his green eyes. The tension in the air thickens, making it clear that this moment is more weighted than you had anticipated.

“Zayne?”

You look back to his hand locked onto your wrist. Little white snowflakes flurry from his arm, and from that, you can tell the doctor is having an internal battle with his emotions.

“Forgive me for my impracticality, but I don’t think I’m comfortable with you seeing a male gynecologist.” You don’t fail to notice the way his voice was now lowered and a chill ran through your body.

The flurry of snowflakes burst from his hand in quicker movements at your words and he quickly lets go of you.

“My, my, is Dr. Zayne… jealous?”

“I don’t see why I cannot clear you for this, I am your primary doctor after all.”

Aww, your snowman was jealous. He just didn’t want to admit it.

“Zayne, honey,” you lock your fingers with his, noting the way the snowflakes start to calm down. “As much as I would prefer you to do it over anyone else, the association wants someone specialized in that field.”

Zayne furrows his brow, a wave of frustration washing over him. He knows deep down that he lacks the authority to grant you the necessary clearance, and the thought that another man will see you exposed, no matter how justified it may be for medical reasons, angers him even more. The tension in the room thickens as he rises abruptly from the sofa, his movements are almost forceful as he unintentionally nudges you aside in his haste, caught between concern for your well-being and the turmoil within himself.

“Don’t make the appointment.”

And with that, he leaves the room.

"Zayne!" You call out, but the sound of his office door shutting was all you received in response.

—————-

About an hour ticks by and you never leave the couch, instead just opting to watch some soap opera to pass the time with a throw blanket covering your body as the rain pelts against the windows.

You could faintly hear Zayne's muffled voice speaking to someone over the phone. You didn't want to disturb him, understanding how difficult it is for him to express his emotions. If he needed some time alone, you would give him that space.

By the time the door opens, the main character is already in tears again for the umpteenth time. He stands over you and you turn off the show.

In the stillness, you can sense his struggle to meet your gaze, while your eyes remain locked on his, filled with concern and curiousness.

Finally, he clears his throat.

“You have an appointment with Dr. Lina at 8 a.m. on Monday. Please do not be late.”

Shock washes over your features and your mouth parts open.

“What? Zayne, how did you-”

“Being at the top of your field has its advantages.”

You're silent, not knowing what to say, just overall confused. It would’ve taken you another month to see her and now you’re seeing her in three days?

“One of my colleagues is Dr. Lina's cousin. I explained to him your situation and he talked to her. I guess she was delighted to find out that the one and only Dr. Zayne’s girlfriend wanted to see her- so she pushed back one of her appointments.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Without another thought, you move off the couch and wrap your arms around his neck. Zayne reciprocates the hug and cradles your head to his chest.

“Thank you.”

Zayne's hand continues to stroke your hair, a bit hesitant as he chooses his next words carefully. "Darling, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier."

You pull away with furrowed eyebrows as he meets your eyes.

"You were right, it seems I was a bit jealous." His hand brushes back a stray lock of your hair. "If you were required to go see another male doctor, I should have been more understanding of that. It wasn't right nor professional for me to intervene without your consent-"

"Zayne." Your sharp tone cuts off his apology. "You don’t need to apologize for anything. I understand how difficult it is for you to confront your emotions. Honestly, I couldn’t be more relieved. I had already told you that I wasn’t comfortable seeing a male doctor for this, so you being jealous and taking action like that is kind of sexy."

"You think that was sexy?" Zayne smirks as if humored by the situation. "Really."

You shrug and nod your head, "I mean, yeah. You being all protective like that and realizing you're jealous is something I don't get to see every day. Maybe I should make you jealous more often..."

He lets out a low growl and pulls you back to his chest, lips brushing against your hairline as he inhales your shampoo.

"It would be wise not to push it," He warns. "Besides, I’d much rather owe Dr. Lina a favor than you forced to be uncomfortable.” His thumb brushes over your ear.

“What’s the favor?”

“That I see one of her children. With the discovery of his new evol, I guess his heart had some abnormal fluctuations.”

You frown at his answer. A child with heart problems already?

Zayne notices your change in demeanor and he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Don’t fret over it darling, I’m seeing him tomorrow and she had already given me a brief rundown on his condition. It sounds like it’s just the body getting used to the abundance of power. It's common in children.”

You nod, relieved. If anyone can figure it out, it’s your boyfriend.

The rest of the night was spent cuddling on the couch and snacking on sweets while the cliche drama played in the background.

———-

Your appointment with Dr. Lina went very smoothly and she said you were in perfect health.

By the next week, you were approved to continue out in the field and the heavy weight was lifted off your shoulders.

Zayne was very relieved to find out his hypothesis was correct with Linda’s son, Ivan. As it turns out Ivan’s evol was super speed and the fluctuations in his heart were just him needing to burn off the energy.

You were glad it all worked out, thanks to your Dr. Zayne.

[beomcoups]

Stupid Cupid

➻❥ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are madly in love with your best friend and it's eating you alive. One day you will tell him how you feel, but you have to deal with his girlfriend first.

➻❥ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend!hansol x reader

➻❥ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 18+, roommates au, best friends to ?, angst, fluff, smut

➻❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, jealousy, fight is kind of intense, kissing, protected sex, nipple play?, fingering, oral (f. receiving), masturbation, missionary, multiple orgasms?

➻❥ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 9.1k

➻❥ 𝐀𝐍: This for the collab "Lonely Hearts Cafe", hosted by @camandemstudios. This story truly stressed me out and I couldn't have gotten through it without @yoongihan, @seokgyuu, @okiedokrie and & @haologram for looking at this for me. I don't do well with deadlines and the words just weren't coming to me naturally. It was eating me up and giving me headaches lol. I hope despite that, you all like this labor of love 😭

You are in love with Hansol. 

Hopelessly, stupidly, trip over your feet when he’s around, butterflies in your stomach kind of love. He’s everything you could want in a guy and your best friend, someone you can just chill with no expectations. You both love Star Wars, attend anime cons together, and are allergic to peanuts. You share a home with him and it feels like home in your heart when he’s near. You’re in love with Hansol. There is only one problem: he has an on-and-off girlfriend. 

A girlfriend you particularly hate. 

Kelsey is always around, taking up your space, and it’s aggravating. You wish you could say that it’s not serious, but to your chagrin, they have been on and off for a couple of years. It’s bad enough that you can’t tell Hansol how you feel, but then you have his girlfriend, a huge social media influencer, always at your condo every time you’re there. You would think she would like to take her “influence " elsewhere. It’s exacerbating. 

“Hey there girl,” Kelsey calls out as you walk to the kitchen. She is sprawled out with her laptop on your living room floor rug, wearing a cut-off shirt, the tiniest shorts you have ever seen, and knee-high socks. Where does she live again?

“What’s up?” you respond, barely hiding the irritation in your voice. 

“Oof, you’re definitely not a morning person,” she scoffs. “Do you think you can stay out tonight? Vernon has this Hollywood thing he has to attend to tonight, and he is stressed about it. So I want to help him relax if you know what I mean.” 

You raise your eyebrows at her referring to him as Vernon, which he only tells his coworkers to call him. Hansol is a cinematographer, and a damned good one. He works for a major film studio and is invited to parties all the time. He only goes for the free food and booze, he says, because those people don’t care about anything but themselves and their pockets, let alone pronouncing his first name correctly.

Kelsey is not a coworker; she is, unfortunately, his girlfriend. Why doesn’t she call him by his preferred name?

“What does you wanting to help Hansol relax have to do with me being here?” you ask, making yourself a cup of coffee. 

“Well.” She clicks her tongue. “It’ll be pretty awkward for me to be blowing his brains out while you’re here, ya know?”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from saying what is on your mind, instead focusing on making your elaborate coffee with whipped cream and caramel syrup on top. This girl really has some nerve. 

“Kelsey,” you let out a small sigh. “I’m not leaving my house because you want to fuck. Do whatever you please.” You slam the whipped cream can on the container. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” 

Irritated, you walk past her and speed into the hallway, almost running into Hansol, who is leaving his bedroom. Wearing a red shirt and pajama pants, he has bedroom hair and a hint of sleep in his eyes. He looks adorable. 

“Where are you running off to?” His voice is deep and groggy. 

“I am running away from that peach of a girlfriend you have in there.” You roll your eyes. “Plus, I have to get ready for work.” 

“Oh no, what did she do now?” 

“Nothing, aside from asking me to stay out of the condo that I pay for tonight so she can fuck you as loud as she wants,” you say bluntly. 

Hansol’s eyes widen in shock, the little sleepiness he had evaporated. “She didn’t say that?” 

“She just about said that,” you sigh, leaning on the wall. “Look, I have to get ready for my day, but we have to have a conversation later. Not tonight, because I know that party is happening. But at some point, we do.” 

“Okay,” he says, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry.” 

“No need to be sorry,” you sigh again, deeply this time. “Let’s just chat soon, okay?”

You step into your room and shut the door, your heart beating out of your chest. That was not a conversation you want to have early in the morning, and Kelsey being around more and more makes you erratic. Eventually, a conversation will have to be had about how much time she is spending here and everything. But right now, you will sip your elaborate coffee and try to get through the day. 

You met Hansol on the first day of college. You needed help finding your classes and ironically you shared some classes required for your majors. You wanted to be a film director and figured a film studies degree would get you there. Hansol loved being behind the camera, recording the magic in front of him. You shared the same study group and met your other best friends, Minghao and Wonwoo. Minghao has a good eye for design and wanted to work on set designs and costumes while Wonwoo is equally obsessed with cameras, often geeking out with Hansol about the different models they wanted to collect one day. You even lived together at one point, your friendship group known as the “core four”, until one by one, everyone moved out and it was just you and him. 

You didn’t fall in love with him right away. It was a slow, simmering thing that snuck in and robbed your heart and mind before you realized it. You were together all the time and enjoyed the same things. You’ve seen each other at your worst, depended on each other, and celebrated your successes together. Hansol was your go-to for everything, and you didn’t realize until he started dating Kelsey that you were in love. But how can you tell him that?

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

Minghao sits next to you during your lunch break the same day, bringing you meat and stir fry that he brought from home. His girlfriend, Mei, who is an excellent cook and very sweet, sent you a text this morning that she was bringing some with him to the studio today. You worked for a major studio as an SFX artist, falling in love with prosthetics and makeup in one of your courses and deciding to pursue that instead. You still have your bachelors in film studies and your love for film hasn’t changed; you just went on a different path. You’re happier for it. 

“Thank you for the food,” you breathe, purposely dodging his question. 

“You’re welcome,” he replied, handing you Tupperware of colorful stir fry. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think anything is wrong with me?” 

Minghao raises an eyebrow with a familial side-eye as he distributes utensils, the kind of look parents give you when they know you’re telling a lie. He knows you so well, and he has always been good at reading people. You can talk to him about anything, and he is going to give you the hard truth, even if you don’t want to hear it. After a moment, you tell him what happened this morning and he is silent, taking it all in.

“She is really getting on my nerves,” you huff, accidentally slamming your plastic fork on the table. Your colleagues around you look in your direction nervously, and you are mortified, wishing you could wiggle your nose and disappear like the genie on the old TV show. 

“Are you sure it’s because of her, or is it because of him?” Minghao asks casually, taking a sip of his tea. 

“W-what do you mean?” you play aloof, not wanting to open another can of worms. “This has nothing to do with Hansol, though I wish he would tell her to not come over to our place all the time. I don’t get what he even sees in her.” 

“Sure,” he says with a smirk, barely containing his amusement. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you are in love with him.”

“Ugh,” you groan, sliding further in your seat. “I wish I never told you that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” His smile widening into a teasing grin. “Even the blind could see your bleeding heart for him.”

“Yeah, apparently everyone can but him,” you mutter, taking a stab at your food. 

Minghao chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Well don’t take your frustration out on the food. Mei put a lot of love into that.” 

You mumble “sorry”, feeling guilty and eating your food in silence. If it were another day and you were in a better mood, you would savor it more. But all you want is for the work day to end, so you can curl in your bed and figure out how to navigate this unrequited love. 

“What if I told him how I felt?” 

You look up slowly at your friend, gauging his reaction. He already has the look of disapproval, and your stomach is in knots. 

“Yeah, that’s a terrible idea,” he says firmly. “Do you really want to start drama in the middle of the busiest season for us? Not to mention Kelsey will blast this all over social media.”

“I’m not scared of her,” you shoot back defiantly, crossing your arms. 

Minghao chuckles again, but it is lighter and paired with concern in his eyes. “Just think it through okay? Things are already complicated, and I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

He places a supportive hand on your shoulder as he packs up what’s left of his lunch and goes back to work. You sigh, knowing that he’s right, but it still doesn’t make it easier to hear. 

You planned to sleep through whatever escapade Kelsey had in mind with Hansol. You had your nightly tea with cinnamon horchata and set your phone to play ambient/vaporwave music to drown out whatever noise they might bring. They aren’t exactly the quietest people when they are in the mood, and you have been dreading it since this morning. 

A lot of times you have wondered what it would be like to experience him for the first time. You’ve heard enough of them to have an idea of what he is like, but it’s different from actually feeling him inside you, with his hands caressing your body. You want to feel his lips on yours and your skin against his. Is it possible to crave something that you’ve never had? You are tired of hearing the headboard banging against the wall and the moans that follow soon after. You are irritated with it all— You wish it were you instead. 

You heard the security system beep when the front door opened, and you lay in bed, waiting for the inevitable shuffling of feet and sloppy kisses that would follow after. Your stomach turns at the thought of her hands all over him, whispering sweet things in his ear that have no meaning. Silence ensues, leaving you confused, and your nosiness gets the best of you. Slowly getting out of bed, you slip into your house shoes, exiting your room quietly as you brace yourself for the grand display of affection you were used to seeing. Instead, you find Hansol on the couch, taking a hit of his vape, tiredness etching around his eyes. 

“How was the party?” You probe, taking a seat next to him and crossing your legs. “You look partied out.” 

“It was alright,” he mumbles, taking another hit of his vape. 

“Alright?” You quirk an eyebrow. “You have been talking about this party all month and it was just alright?”

You noticed his disposition and you don’t want to pry, but his nonchalant attitude is eating at you. Hansol can be hard to read sometimes, but you know him. He’s quiet with everyone else but not with you—he tells you everything. 

“Tell me what’s happened.” 

Hansol reluctantly answers, sighing heavily as he takes one more vape hit before setting it on the armrest. You move closer to him, giving him a reassuring smile. 

“Kelsey and I broke up again,” he said, the heaviness of his words linger in the air. The sadness in his voice is clear, and it hurts you to see him upset. “She wanted to bring a friend to the party and you can’t exactly do that. So when I told her no, she got all pissed at me, we argued and she broke up with me.” 

You bite your lip, trying to find the right words. “I’m really sorry, Hansol. Despite how I feel about her, I know you really love her, and being broken up with sucks.” 

He looks at you, his brown eyes reflecting a mix of tiredness and frustration. “She said it was more than just not letting her bring her friend to the party. She says I never consider her feelings and that’s not true. It just feels like we’re always going in circles. One minute, we’re good; the next, it’s like… it never even mattered.”

“Yeah, that can be exhausting,” you pause, wanting to say more but unsure how to articulate the feelings that bubble beneath the surface. This is not their first break up, but it affects him all the same. Seeing Hansol be madly in love with someone who keeps taking advantage of him burns you to your core. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone who will take care of him with love and respect. Someone who values his ideas and cares about him as a person. You would give him the world if you could. 

“I hope I am not overstepping,” you say cautiously. “But this isn’t your first rodeo. Why do you keep going back?” 

His silence is deafening, and he has an uncomfortable expression on his face as he tries to find the right words to say. “Look, Kelsey can be a lot and full of herself, but she cares in her own way. When it’s just us, she is so attentive, funny, and warm—sort of. She has her moments,” he sighs again. “She makes me feel good in a way no one else has. I love her.”

Hearing him declare his love for her leaves you with a bitter taste in your mouth. It’s bad enough that you didn’t realize you were in love with him until after he started seeing her, and now after hearing this, you can never tell him how you feel. It’ll fuck up everything, despite it gnawing at you inside. 

“For what it’s worth, I hope that you two will be able to talk it out and figure out what you want to do.” You tell a strong lie, but you don’t want to hear more about his love for her. You can’t take it. “Do you want to chill for a bit? We can watch Revenge Of The Sith if you want.” 

He cracks a small smile, and for a moment, the weight in his eyes lightens. “Yeah, let’s just chill for a bit. That sounds cool.”

“Cool,” you reply, scrambling from the couch. “I’ll make some popcorn.” 

Tears threaten to break free as you beeline it to the kitchen, your heartache paining worse than before. “She makes me feel good in a way no one else has… I love her.” You keep replaying it in your head over and over. You almost wish you never left your room, and went to sleep like you planned. At least you would still have a bit of hope, instead of a cracked heart. 

A few weeks pass, and as the season change, so does the light in Hansol’s eyes. He is getting back to his normal self and is laughing again. As happy as you are for him, it feels like your heart is being pierced by shards of glass. It was foolish of you to think you could ever be with him, and Minghao was right: it will just complicate everything.  

You know he isn’t completely over Kelsey, and it’s going to take more than a few weeks to get over someone you love deeply. You used to have daydreams of cuddling with Hansol on the couch, watching horror movies, and being madly in love… you have to put it to bed, for good. You start distancing yourself, little by little. Whether it’s staying late at work or finding different excuses to be out of the house, it doesn’t matter. You’re still there for him as a friend, but you want to be free from this unrequited love. It was fucking with you. 

So here you are, at a bar, sitting with your date Seungcheol, who you met on a dating app. You just wanted a quick fix for your heartache, and they say the best way to get over someone is to get under another, right? He’s the one to fulfill that. 

Within an hour of talking to him, you learned he was the typical tech bro who went to an Ivy League school, liked to mansplain everything, and thought he was God’s gift to women. Whatever. It’s not like you planned on seeing him again after tonight. 

“You look real nice in that outfit,” he says, practically drooling over your little black dress and heels. 

“Do I?” You flirtatiously quirk an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” Seungcheol nods, taking a sip of his gin. “I can’t wait to see what you look like underneath.”

It takes every fiber in your being to roll your eyes and walk out of there. Guys like Seungcheol annoy you, and you deal with them in small doses and go about your business. But he is a means to an end, and you will bat your eyes and tell him what he wants to hear to get what you want. You will deal with the consequences in the morning. 

You gaze at the clock displayed on the wall and it’s a quarter till eleven. Tired of hearing him talk, you lean in and whisper in his ear, your lips barely touching him. “Do you want to get out of here then? You said your place isn’t that far, right?”

His eyes are lit with desire, and you excuse yourself to the bathroom while he settles the bill. Stepping into the dimly lit bathroom, you take a good look in the mirror, adjust your dress, and apply the last bit of cherry red lipstick. The soft glow of the overhead light illuminates the traces of perfectly good makeup that you only bring out for special occasions. 

“Is this really what you want?”

Your words echo against the walls, your question answered by silence. With a deep breath, you straighten your posture, taking one last look before exiting the bathroom. Of course, this is what you want— you wouldn’t have gone this far if you didn’t. Seungcheol waits for you at the bar, biting his plump bottom lip as he scrolls through his phone. Seungcheol is as hot as they come, and it certainly makes this decision a bit easier. 

“Are you ready to go?”

He looks up as you close in on him, linking your arm through his. “Of course, I’m going to pull the car around front.”

You watch him walk away, twiddling your fingers as you wait in suspense. The bar smells of wood and stale beer, the heat pushed on blast to counter the cold outside. You slip on your coat, walking towards the front door when you hear laughter, a familiar one that brings butterflies to your stomach. Turning to your left, you see Hansol, walking into the same bar you’re leaving, with Wonwoo and a girl you don’t know. He was always a simple guy, wearing jeans and his favorite “Revenge Of The Nerds” hoodie with a goofy grin on his face. It’s your favorite thing to see.

All the feelings you keep trying to push aside rise in you at once, and when your eyes lock with this, you feel warm. Getting over him will not be easy. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” Hansol says curiously. 

“She probably has a hot date,” Wonwoo teases and nudges your shoulder. 

“Well actually… I do.” 

Wonwoo’s mouth spreads into a wide grin, happy to be right. His girl companion tugs onto his coat, mumbling that she is freezing. She’s a short thing with jet-black hair and wears a nice shirt and a skirt that shows off her legs. Wonwoo isn’t the serial dater type, so it is a high possibility he’s on the same mission you were: fuck and move on. 

“Really?” Hansol’s voice peaks an octave higher than normal. “Who’s the guy?”

“O-oh, um, you don’t know him,” you stumble through your words. “He’s just someone I met. We are heading to his place actually.” 

“W-what?” Hansol looks surprised, his expression etched with concern. “Are you sure it's a good idea?”

“I’ll be fine,” you say, looking down at your heels. “I’ll send you my location when I’m there, okay?”

In the nick of time, Seungcheol pulls up in his Mercedes, opening the car door from his seat to let you in. 

“There he is,” you announce, walking towards the luxury car. “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Hansol stares intently at Seungcheol before looking at you, his eyes softening as you get into the passenger seat. You wave as he pulls off, the bar becoming out of view as you drive through downtown. Your nerves are shot, and you feel rattled. Of all the places to be, you had to see him at the bar? The universe has a sense of humor. 

“Who were those people back there?” Suengcheol’s deep voice breaks through your thoughts. “The one with the hoodie looked like he was going to pound me.” 

“Oh they are my best friends from college,” you say casually. “Well, I don't know the girl but yeah. Besides, Hansol, the one with the hoodie, he wouldn’t hurt a fly.” 

You can confidently say out of all the years you have known him, Hansol, you have never seen him get aggressive with anyone. The most emotion you see from him is when he talks about cameras, film, or his love for Kel—. 

“I don’t have anything to worry about, do I?”

Shaking your head and changing the mood, you strategically place your hand on his thigh, smiling mischievously. “Now are we going to talk about my friends all night, or do you want to do something more exciting?”

To say Hansol is bothered is an understatement. 

You didn’t come home last night and even though he knew where you were, it still gnaws at him. It was unlike you. You always came home. It’s irking him. You are always there. 

Hansol noticed that you hadn’t been around as much, and he assumed it had something to do with work, which he understood since you both work in the same industry. But seeing you with that guy with the fancy Benz, dressed in clothes you rarely wear and your hair different from your usual look—it was all he could think about. You looked beautiful last night, and he wasn’t sure why he didn’t see it before. What maddened him the most was that he couldn’t figure out why. He just knew that you were not there, and it didn’t feel right. 

Hansol slowly got out of his bed and checked the time on his phone, 9:37 am in bold letters on his lock screen. His head raged from the hangover he caught from last night’s drinking. He is a lightweight and he knows he drank more than he should, but he was still dealing with the aftermath of the breakup with Kelsey. It’s been a few weeks and though he was feeling better, he still cared about her. He just wanted to not think or feel for a few hours. Now his thoughts are plagued by you. 

He sauntered out of his room, the sunlight hit him like a wall, momentarily blinding him. He reached for a bottle of water, hoping to ease the throbbing in his head. A few moments later, Wonwoo opened the spare room, yawning and adjusting his glasses. Hansol was too drunk to drive, and Wonwoo was sober enough to take him home. The date that he brought last night, who he learned was named Jules, sheepishly appeared behind him, adjusting her dress as she took her walk of shame. Hansol heard murmuring but couldn’t make out what they were saying, but shortly after the door shut with a click, with Wonwoo leaning against it, an amusing grin on his face. 

“Is that your next victim?” Hansol teased. 

“Eh, maybe,” he shrugged. “She is more tolerable than the others.” 

“Uh-huh,” he surmised, drinking the last bits of his water. “We’ll see how long this one lasts.” 

Wonwoo is a notorious dater if you want to call it that. He has always had the philosophy that being tied down isn’t for him and he would rather run through the mill than be with someone he always likes. He is a fine art photographer who travels quite a bit, and he is always bragging about how it wouldn’t make sense for him to be in a relationship. He blows where the wind goes, and Hansol has always respected that he stayed true to himself. 

Wonwoo chuckled as he grabbed the water next to Hansol, clutching it as he drank it empty. He looked at your closed room door, his eyebrows raised curiously. 

“She isn’t here?” Wonwoo probed, pointing at your door. 

“No,” Hansol mumbled, followed by a slight ping in his chest. “She might still be out.” 

“Uh, huh,” Wonwoo concluded, eyeing him oddly. “Sounds like she had a good night.” 

“Yeah, I bet,” Hansol said bitterly, his fingers rubbing his right temple. “It’s not like her to stay overnight at some douche’s house. Something is up.” 

“A douche, huh?” Wonwoo curved into a sly grin. “How do you know the guy is a douche? He could be a cool guy.” 

“Come on, he drives an S-class Mercedes and wears an Apple watch. I’m willing to bet he’s some tech bro.”

“And?” Wonwoo challenged. “That doesn’t make him a bad guy. If I don’t know any better I would say you are jealous.” 

Hansol rolled his eyes at his accusation, though the thought of you canoodling with the tech bro made him feel a certain way. “I’m not jealous. I am just… concerned, that’s all.” 

“Yeah, let’s call it that.” 

The alarm beeped from the front door and you walked in slowly, looking as put together as you did last night. Hansol paled as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to, and Wonwoo looked amused, folding his arms as he leaned against the counter. 

“Oh hey, party girl,” Wonwoo greeted you. “We were just talking about you.”

“Were you now?” You said with raised eyebrows, slowly taking off your heels. 

“Y-yeah, we were wondering if you made it home,” Hansol said nervously. “Well, you’re here now so.”

“Did you have a good time?” Wonwoo probed you further. “Will you see him again?

You look down at the floor, your face heating up from embarrassment. They typically don’t ask about your dating life, so why does it matter now?

“Maybe,” you murmured, biting your lip. “I’m going to go shower and get out of these clothes.” 

Hansol watched you as you walked into your room, shutting the door behind you quietly. He is relieved that you made it home safe, but he still feels conflicted about how he feels. Is he in fact, jealous?

“I’m going to go home and get some sleep,” Wonwoo announced, clapping a hand on Hansol’s shoulder. 

He let himself out and Hansol went back to his room, collapsing on his bed. Stirred emotions and thoughts rumbled through his head, and he closed his eyes, determined to think things through with a clearer head. 

His phone buzzed on his nightstand, and he sluggishly grabbed it, groaning at his notifications. A new message from Kelsey flashed as he swiped up on his screen. “I miss you.”

It’s been over a week since you saw Hansol, and you would be a liar to say that you were fine. You miss him. 

Your night with Seungcheol was fun, and he was a good fuck, but your mind kept drifting back to Hansol… imagining it was him. Seungcheol was nice enough to let you sleep in if you wanted and made sure you were good before you left, but you know it’s not going to go anywhere. Deep down he knows that too. 

God, you are a mess. 

You decided to keep busy with work and find things outside of your condo that made you happy, and that’s what led you here tonight, at the local movie theater. Around this time every year, they play five showings for free as a thank-you for the community supporting the theater for the past ten years. Princess Mononoke is the movie of the night, and you are standing in line, waiting to buy your ticket. It’s one of your favorite comfort movies in the world, and you never miss a chance to watch it, especially when you are feeling down. 

The weather is cooler than what was forecasted, and the slight breeze makes you tug on your coat tightly. You and Hansol did this every year together—and it feels weird alone. Unnatural even. You remember having long discussions about the movies you saw and what made them great. You love seeing the twinkle in his eye when he talks about the type of camera lens that was used and what it took to get certain shots. In return, he would listen to you vividly as you rambled about the time and craft it took to create special effects or a certain mask. Those times made you feel connected with him in a way no one could understand, and it's one of the main reasons why you fell in love with him. 

You purchase your ticket and walk inside the old building, the smell of buttery popcorn attacking your senses as soon as you open the door. The interior has been the same since you have been coming here, with high lights in the ceilings, vintage movie posters, and the same plush crimson carpet that matches the drapes on the windows. It has character and it feels cozy, like you are a kid again. 

You give the attendant your ticket and he rips the lower stub, pointing you in the direction of which theater room you need to go to. Your stomach rumbled with a slight ache, reminding you that you have not eaten since this morning. You were never really the breakfast type, as you normally just wake up and go about your day. You have a million things on your mind, and just for a little while, you want to shut it off. Princess Mononoke usually does that. 

Your phone buzzes slightly in your jacket and you look at Hansol’s name on the screen, hesitant to answer. It wouldn’t hurt to hear his voice for a little bit, right?

“Hey, you,” you say, biting your lip. 

“Hey, turn around,” he replies, his voice sounding louder than it should. 

Turning around slowly, you watch him walk through the doors, the sunlight trailing behind him like a halo. He sports an old college hoodie, faded jeans, and a smile, and in this moment, he almost takes your breath away. 

“I would ask what you are doing here, but I know better than that,” you joke lightheartedly. 

“Yeah, you know I’ll never miss this,” Vernon says, looking around at the theater. “Man, this place still looks the same.” 

“I know,” you agree, fidgeting with the ticket in your hand. “How did you know I was here?” 

“Because I know you,” he shrug. “I tried calling you to see if you wanted to come tonight, but you never picked up. So I came here.” 

“You called?” You give him a puzzled look. “I don’t remember you ca—”

You scroll through your notifications, seeing the three missed calls from him throughout the day. Even texted you but you didn’t see it. You had your phone on do not disturb mode, and you didn’t think to check any of your messages. Maybe you are just being childish. 

“See,” he nudges your shoulder playfully. “I told you.” 

“Yeah, yeah” you roll your eyes teasingly. “Are you watching Mononoke too?”

“You know it,” he nods. “I’ll grab the popcorn and nachos. Go find us a seat?”

You watch him make his way to the concession stand, butterflies swirling in your stomach as the familiar feeling of home swells in your chest. You head to the third room on the right, snagging seats in the middle row that give you a perfect viewing of the movie. The lights dim as you sit down, with the old previews from 1997 playing on the screen giving you a major flashback to the past. In this moment you feel good and content, despite wanting to come here alone and avoid Hansol at all costs. You wouldn’t call yourself a fickle person, but you are glad your plans did change. Being around him feels just right. 

The movie starts a few minutes later, and Hansol appears right as it starts, searching the rows until he finds you. His face softens and his lips curve into a smile, taking a seat next you and handing you a popcorn and a cherry coke. 

“I haven’t missed anything, have I?”

You shake your head softly, avoiding his gaze and the pitter-patter he gives your heart. 

“No, you made it just in time.”

Hansol had a good time with you. 

It felt comfortable and familiar to be with you while he watched one of his favorite movies. He didn’t actually know that you were going to be there; he just took a chance and hoped you would be there, and like fate, you were standing in the middle of the theater. There was no awkwardness, he didn’t feel like he was walking on eggshells every time he had something on his mind. You just got him, and it felt like a breath of fresh air. 

It’s been a couple of weeks since then, and you have been hanging at the house more. Before he was lucky to catch you in the mornings when you left for work or you would come home late at night when he was already asleep. Even though things were getting back to normal, his thoughts of you continued to grow, and even though he wasn't sure of a lot of things, he knew one thing: he had missed you. 

“Earth to Vernon, hello?”

Hansol snapped out of his thoughts, refocusing on Kelsey as he sat across from her at her house. She asked him to come over and talk, and after thinking it over, he agreed, setting up a time to talk when she came back in town. Kelsey looked beautiful, sporting a white halter top and blue jean shorts, her skin sun-kissed from the vacation she took to the Cayman Islands. Her raven-black hair fell past her shoulders, swaying slightly as she talked about her trip. 

“Where is your head at today?” Kelsey pouted, her eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “I feel like you aren’t listening to me.”

Hansol shook his head, shaking you out of his mind. “I’m listening. All I do is listen.” 

“No, you don’t,” Kelsey retorted. “You didn’t listen to me about the party or kick that girl out of your condo—”

“I already told you, that’s not happening,” Vernon pushed back. “ And that girl has a name. Why would I kick her out? It makes no sense.” 

“You know why Vernon.” 

“No, I don’t. You’re being unreasonable.” 

Kelsey rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in the air. “We have been together almost three years and you haven’t asked me to move in. I asked you plenty of times to think about our future and to limit your time with her. You refuse to do it. Why is that?”

“Whoa, that’s bullshit!” Hansol’s anger rose through his chest. “You have never said “let’s move in together” or anything like that. If anything, all you have talked about lately is getting you into industry parties to build your brand. Also, I did start spending less time with her. What are you on about?”

“Because I am supposed to be your best friend!” Kelsey shouted. “You don’t even do the same things with me that you do with her. I bet she leaps with joy every time we have a break.” 

“She’s not like that,” Hansol said defensively. “She’s always been there for me and encouraged me to work it out with you. To your other point, every time I ask you to do something with me, something I want to do for once, you say it’s childish and that I need to grow up” 

“Because Vernon, who the hell still watches Star Wars?” Kelsey scoffs. “You are not a nine-year-old boy. You’re a grown man. Fucking act like it.” 

Hansol sighed, feeling drained and defeated. Star Wars meant a lot to him, as it was the main inspiration for why he wanted to get into cinematography and study film. It’s how he bonded with his dad. She knew that and still decided to insult him about it every chance she got. He wasn’t sure what the future looked like before he arrived, but the tension he felt in his chest and the ache in his heart made things a lot more clear. He still cared about Kelsey, more than he should, but it’s time to move on

“This… isn’t going to work,” Hansol rubbed his temple. “The fact that you still call me Vernon, knowing how formal it makes me feel, says a lot. I don’t know what happened to the girl I fell in love with, but clearly she’s gone. We’re done.” 

“Yeah, right,” Kelsey said incredulously. “You aren’t leaving me—”

“Yes, I am.” Hansol resolved. “This relationship has been one-sided for a while now. I’m sick of this.” 

Hansol got up from the table and handed her his copy of her apartment key. Kelsey looked bewildered, realizing that he was serious, and he wasn’t coming back this time. 

“So that’s it? You are just going to throw this all away? For her? She’s in love with you and you don’t even see it. All the times you have let her disrespect me and put up with her crap. I bet this was her idea.”

“You weren’t exactly nice to her either,” Hansol retorted, his heart beating out his chest. “She has been there for me when you weren’t. She cares about what I’m interested in. We like the same things. I don’t have to wonder if she cares about me and my family loves her. She’s smart, kind, beautiful and I love he—”

He stopped himself before he completed his sentence, shook at what was about to come out of his mouth. He was still grappling with his feelings for you and what that meant, and he still couldn’t put any words to what it all meant… until now.

“It’s not just about her,” Hansol said. “It’s everything with us, and the fact that you still don’t get it, tells me everything I need to know. Take care, Kelsey.”

He left the apartment before she started her next tirade, with a storm brewing in the night sky. He hated the way she talked about you like you were insignificant. You didn’t deserve the vitriol Kelsey spat every time you came up in conversation. You weren’t the warmest person, but you always made him feel seen and were there for him no matter what. You got his humor and his late-night thoughts about the latest webtoon he just read. His thoughts of you biting your lip when you’re nervous or the quirky thing you do with your eyebrow when you tell a story; he loved it all. It took for this to happen to see what he had in front of him all this time. He missed you when you aren’t around and it drove him crazy to see you on a date with that tech bro. 

Realization hit him like a punch in the gut as he turned the ignition: he’s been in love with you this whole time. Now how the hell does he tell you that?

The harsh sound of thunder makes the hairs on your neck stand up, dropping your iPad on your lap. It’s suddenly dark in your room, light from the partly cloudy day gone and replaced by storm clouds and flashing lightning. Your condo sits on the 10th floor, and the sound is much more elevated, sending chills down your spine. You hate being alone when it storms. 

You heard Hansol leave earlier and you wanted to clear your head, and so you decided to work on some sketches for a project that is happening at work. You are creating a few masks for an upcoming horror movie, and you are throwing out a few ideas that may interest the producers. The only problem is that you never got around to actually work; instead you were drawing doodles around you and Hansol’s name like a teenager. 

Every attempt you have made to distance yourself from him has become futile, and you decide to just accept the situation for what it was. Maybe one day you will work up the courage to tell him how you feel, but not being around him is agonizing, and you would rather have your best friend back than not have him at all. You can’t help the way he makes you feel, and until something changes, you’re okay with where things are… for now. 

Another crackling sound of thunder makes you yelp, knocking your iPad on the floor and cracking the corner of the screen. 

“Shit,” you mumble, looking at the damage. 

Your nerves are shot, and you decide to make some tea to calm yourself while the storm rages outside. You place your iPad safely on the bed and slip out of your room, heading to the kitchen as the wind picks up and hurls rain against the windows. It amazes you how the day can go from sunny and hopeful to dark and tragic within a few minutes. Mother nature must be on one today, you think to yourself. 

The alarm door beeps and Hansol walks in, completely unscathed by the storm. He slides off his black beanie that covers his short brown hair and lets out a sigh of relief as he locks the door behind him. His eyes met yours, and a small smile spread across your face. 

“You made it just in time,” you say, pouring water into your teapot. “It’s about to get ugly out there.” 

“Yeah.” he nods, his gaze fixed on the darkened windows. 

You could tell something is bothering him, as you watch him take off his shoes and put up his jacket, but you don’t know what to say. Things have been so good between you two, yet the last time he opened up, he shared something you weren’t ready to hear. Despite everything, your concern for him remains strong, and you can’t help but ask, “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Hansol replies, lost in thought. “Kelsey and I are done for good.” 

“Oh?” you exclaim. “What’s changed?”

Vernon sits on the couch and you follow him, sitting cross-legged and across from him as he shares his feelings. “I went over there to talk to her, and I just realized that she just used me. She didn’t care about me or what I liked. It was always about her and what he wanted… plus she said some ridiculous things about you.”

“Did she now?” You quirk an eyebrow in curiosity. “What did she have to say about me?”

You aren’t surprised that she probably said some rude things about you. It’s not like you were her biggest fan either and you didn’t hide it. Kelsey wouldn’t ever say it to your face though, and that always made you chuckle. 

“She said you were in love with me and that you were happy every time we broke up.” 

The words don’t register right away. You can’t have heard him say what you think he said. “She said what now?”

“She said that you were in love with me,” his words tumbling out like a confession.

Your heart starts racing, the feelings of disbelief and anger stirring in your chest. That wasn’t her secret to share. “I.. can’t believe she said that.” 

“Neither can I,” Hansol sighs, running his fingers through his hair. “It’s not like you have feelings for me, and wouldn’t tell me… right?”

Your breath catches, a deep ache forming in the pit of your stomach. This is something you longed for and dreaded for a long time. You could deny it and keep things the way they are, or finally tell him how you feel and change your dynamic forever. 

“Hansol, I—”

“Are you in love with me?” He interrupts, his gaze intense. “I need to know if this is real.”

“What do you mean? And why does it matter?” You say bitterly. “ You are in love with Kelsey and will just go back to her. You always do.” 

“What if I don’t?” 

Your heart is pounding, and you take a deep breath, trying to make sense of everything. “What do you mean if you don’t?”

“I told you, I am done with her,” Hansol reiterates. “These past few weeks without her opened my eyes to a lot of things, and while I have been thinking about her less, you’ve been on my mind more.”

“What are you saying, Hansol?”

“I don’t want to be with her. I want to be with you.”

The air is thick with uncertainty as his words echo in your head. You should be happy, relieved even that he wants to be with you. But in the midst of that, you are scared. What if it doesn’t work? What if he regrets all of this in the morning and decides to take it all back? You couldn’t handle that. 

“I… Kelsey wasn’t far off,” you admit, biting your lip. “I wasn’t necessarily happy when you were sad about her, but I have always felt like you deserved better.” You pause to gather your thoughts. “I am in love with you, Hansol.  I tried to put my feelings away and move on, date, or whatever. But every time I’m near you, it just hurts.”

Hansol pulls you into a warm hug, and you fully embrace his scent and the comfort you feel. You’ve imagined times like this when he would hold you in his arms and caress your face. You craved it even, wishing you could hear his heartbeat and feel him in ways you haven’t. But this feels too good to be true, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is real, or another dream. 

“Are you sure you want to be with me?” you speak up. “You just broke up with her and I don’t want to be some rebound you’ll regret later—”

He kisses you. His soft lips press against yours earnestly, and you melt against him, losing the remaining inhibition you had in you. He leans you back against the couch; his kisses becoming deeper, igniting a fire in you that you thought would stay dormant forever. 

“Does that feel like I’m unsure about what I want?” He breathes heavily. 

“I don’t know,” a smile creeps on your lips, a mix of joy and relief flooding through your veins. “I think I might need another one just to be sure.”

He kisses you again and you return his vigor, your fingers entangled in his hair as you savor the moment. His hands glide down to your waist, touching the hem of your shorts that you hope he’ll tear away. You pause, nodding that it’s okay, watching him slowly slide your shorts down your legs. 

“No panties?” His need is evident, almost salivating at the mouth. 

Your face heats up as you briefly become shy. “It’s laundry day,” you mumble. 

You gaze at each other before erupting into laughter, any remaining tension that was there gone immediately. This is how it always is with him, easy and light. He doesn’t have second or third questions, he just immediately understands. You couldn’t have fallen in love with a better person. 

“I-I love you, Hansol,” you managed to say. “You don’t have to say it back yet, I know we have to figure this out. But just know, I love you.” 

Hansol leans in for another kiss; this time it’s sweeter, tender, with enough meaning to know what it meant,  “Don’t worry, I love you too.” 

And with that, he stands up, taking your hand and leading you to his room. Kicking the door shut, you tear off each other's clothes, excitement and lust pouring through you as you lay on his bed, watching him climb over you. His body presses against yours, your arms wrap around his neck and back, your need for him growing stronger as he leaves kisses on your neck. “I need you so bad.” 

Hansol groans as his hands grab your breasts, mesmerized by your hardened mounds. He sucks on each other carefully, his eyes closed as if he is savoring the taste. He worships your body, his tongue trailing down your stomach until he reaches your core, spreading your legs apart. You’ve played so many scenarios on what your first time with him would be like, and what kind of lover he would be. This is better than you’ve imagined. 

“You’re so wet… for me?” he says in disbelief. “I get you like this?”

You bite your lip, nodding slowly as you anticipate his next move. He slips a digit inside of you, watching you squirm as he fingers you slowly. 

“Oh god,” you praise him as he adds another one. “Just like that, please.” 

Hansol leans down and lashes his tongue against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. The sheets bunch in your fists, your knuckles stretching out as his relentless mouth laps up your essence, savoring every drop. He explores every inch of your softness, removing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue. His hands stroke his cock which is leaking with precum. You are ascending to a high that you never want to come down from. 

“H-Hansol,” your voice is grained with need. “I’m so close.”

He moans in response, his breath hot against your skin, and the sound vibrates through you, intensifying the coil of tension within. Your orgasm crashes over you, a tidal wave of bliss completely taking over you, whimpering his name as your legs tremble around him. White starts clouding your vision and you feel like you are on air, floating away into paradise. You feel him groan against your thigh, and you look down slightly, his cock dripping with his load as it coats his hand. You collapse on his pillow, trying to catch your breath, slowly coming down from cloud nine. You hear him leave and come back a few moments later, wiping you down with a warm rag. 

“Aww, that’s sweet of you,” you tease him, closing your legs slightly. 

“I’m sorry for that being short,” he says, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I usually can last longer than that, you know… I don’t know what happened.”

You prop yourself up, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

You pull him into a hug, softly kissing his cheek and motioning for him to lay down with you. He climbs over you and hugs you from behind, cradling you so close you can feel his heartbeat. The sunlight peeks through the window, a sign that the storm finally passed. Happiness can’t even describe the word you are feeling right now.

“Fuck. R-right there.”

Hansol wanted to make up for last night’s performance, so he woke you up with kisses to your face, your neck, the curves on your body and most importantly, in between your legs. The way you grabbed his hair went his tongue went deeper, or the way you begged for him to fuck you. He was addicted to all of it. It was like he was making love for the first time.

“Please Hansol, I need you.”

He quickly slipped on a condom and slowly entered you, watching the way your lips parted as he inched in a little more.

“Are you okay? I am not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head slowly as you held onto his arms, looking into his eyes with a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay,” you bit your lip. “I can take it.”

He almost came right then and there, hearing you talk like that. Feeling safe with him. He never experienced that with Kelsey, the feeling of being wanted, and truly loved.

He moved slowly, wanting to make sure you could handle it, and he was mesmerized by the way you looked when you were being pleasured. You goaded him for more, and he did that, stroking deeper while your nails dug into his back. You were tight, warm and welcoming like you were made for him. He loved the way your breasts bounced when he thrust harder and the blunt curses that left your lips when he lifted your legs. 

If Hansol could, he would fuck you all day and night to make up for the past time wasted. He wanted to show you how much you meant to him, and he wasn't the best with words, so this would do… for now

“I’m gonna cum—”

His mouth covered yours as your legs shuddered underneath him, your orgasm ripping through you like a hurricane. Your body glistened with sweat, your eyes wet from tears from being fucked out and he couldn't hold back anymore, his thrusts becoming erratic as he emptied himself into the condom.

Hansol thought he was in love before, and maybe it was because it was you, but he hadn't felt this alive in a long time. You were precious to him, and all he wanted to do was lay with you and watch movies all day, talk about mundane things…it didn't matter as long as he was with you.

“I… have a confession to make,” you said breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“I always wondered… what it would be like. With you.”

He watched you bury yourself in his sheets, feeling shy about your confession. Hansol chuckled, slowly pulling out of you and riding himself of the condom. 

“So, did I live up to your expectations?” He asked tentatively.

You gently pull down the covers, smiling at him softly. “This is better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

tagging: @heechwe @junniesoleilkth @iheartnonie @jaeyunsprincxss

[ja3yun]

Pillow Talk | L.HS

bf!heeseung x gf!reader warnings: fluff, smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (m.rec), nipple play, mentions of alcohol and insecurities, pet names (baby), not proofread, lmk if i missed anything! w.c: 6.2k synopsis: after a night out with friends, heeseung's insecurities surface, making him question his worth as a boyfriend. with some reassuring pillow talk and a night spent wrapped in one another, he's determined to prove himself a/n: hi! happy valentine's day to my loves <33 i hope you spend the day surrounded by love - romantic or platonic. i love valentine's day more than anything so this is my gift to you! if you think you've read it before, it's because you have! this is a reupload that won the poll so enjoy!

“Baby?”

A soft, lazy groan vibrates through the stillness of the room. Your body which is still heavy with sleep feels the tender pressure of a hand shaking your arm gently, followed by the familiar brush of petal-soft lips against your shoulder. The gesture is soft but something about the way he calls for you feels different, slightly urgent even though there is no panic in his tone.

“Baby, can you wake up for a minute?”

There’s something off in Heeseung’s voice - something unsure and a tad bit unsteady. His breath catches, then leaves him in a long, heavy exhale, like he’s trying to let something go but can’t. Even with your eyes still closed, the sound of it tugs at your chest, finally stirring you from sleep. The last remnants of drowsiness fade, replaced by a quiet kind of worry.

You shift under the blankets, forcing your eyelids open. The world is still blurred at the edges, softened by sleep, but your focus lands on him immediately. From what you can make out thanks to the streetlight outside, his face looks drawn - tired, but more than that. Troubled.

A slow blink and rub of your eye clears the haze from your vision.

“Heeseung?” Your voice is quiet, thick with sleep but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Are you okay, baby?”

The silence between you stretches and the silence of the midnight hour amplifies everything - the rustling of sheets, the hum of the city, the way his fingers twitch slightly against the fabric. 

He seems…nervous.

Last night, he’d gone out with friends. It was just supposed to be dinner, a break he’d needed after weeks of drowning in work and deadlines. But now, the faint flush on his cheeks and the pink along the bridge of his nose tell you he had more than just a couple - that much is obvious. What’s not obvious is why he’s still awake, sitting here like something’s eating away at him.

His hand drifts to your hair, sweeping a few strands away from your face, and for a brief second, his lips twitch, like he might smile. It’s something he does without thinking, a habit that’s settled into him over time. Even now, even like this, he pauses to take you in - soft, half-asleep, so stunningly beautiful.

Still, the weight in his eyes doesn’t lift.

“Hee,” you murmur, a little more awake now. “What’s wrong?”

His gaze drops. His lips part slightly, hesitation tightening his shoulders. Seconds drag by before he finally speaks.

“Do you think I’m a good boyfriend?”

The question makes you blink. Once. Then again.

“What?”

His eyes meet yours again, uncertain, searching for an answer without you having to utter a word. “Like…am I doing enough?”

That shakes the last bit of sleep from your mind. You sit up slowly, instinct guiding your hand to his chest, where his heartbeat is steady but tense under your palm. “Heeseung, of course you are. Why would you even ask that?”

The words even feel too simple for what you really mean. Because the truth is - he’s not just a good boyfriend. He’s everything.

Sure, there are hard days. Moments when life is messy, when you argue or when things feel overwhelming. But even when you test one another, he never makes you feel anything less than loved. It’s not just about grand gestures with him - it’s in the little things. The way he remembers details you don’t even remember telling him. The way he texts you just because. The way he looks at you when he thinks you won’t notice - like you’re irreplaceable.

And maybe that’s what hurts the most; seeing doubt where there should never be any.

Sitting here in the dim half-light, you can see the weight he’s carrying - the slight hunch of his shoulders, the way his lips press together like he’s holding something back. And yet, even through the uncertainty in his eyes, he’s still reaching for you. Not just for comfort, but to make sure you’re okay, too. Still scared he’s not the perfect boyfriend. 

That’s who Heeseung is. He loves deeply and gives even when he feels empty.

Your fingers trace gently along his jaw, warmth meeting warmth as you take him in. “Heeseung,” you murmur, steady, soft. “You’re the best boyfriend I could ever ask for. You know that, right?” A pause, letting the words sink into him, but they don’t reach where you need them to. You try again, a little more pointed. “What’s going on, baby? What’s making you feel like this?”

His gaze flickers, doubt clouding his eyes, but your words seem to seep into the cracks, softening the tension in his face. The quiet between you is tough and unfamiliar. The bedroom you lay in is usually brimming with laughter. It’s so strange to see him like this.

Although you don’t have all the answers as to why he’s so heavy, you’ll hold him through whatever storm is brewing in his mind - just as he’s done for you more times than you can count.

Heeseung exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes drift, landing somewhere in the soft glow of the room before he finally speaks. “At dinner…the girls were talking about their boyfriends. About how they don’t really pay attention to them, or like, they never ask about their day, or forget things that matter. Always late, always distracted, y’know?”

“And what has that got to do with you?” You ask slowly, genuinely not seeing the correlation.

His brows knit together, lost in thought, and you can see the spiral beginning - the way he’s already picking apart every moment in your relationship, analysing each time he might have been tired, distracted, or anything less than perfect. You know him too well. His heart is so full of care that the idea of falling short - of disappointing you - feels absolutely unbearable.

But where he sees gaps, you only see love. Commitment. A kind of attentiveness that most people can only dream of. Genuinely, people yearn for a man like Heeseung, so it hurts to see him like this.

Heeseung has never been that boyfriend. The one who forgets anniversaries, who doesn’t show up when it matters, who brushes off your feelings like they’re an afterthought. If anything, he’s the opposite.

You remember the countless nights he’s sat with you, listening, no matter how exhausted he was, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he never lets a single date slip by unnoticed, whether it’s a quiet dinner out or a handwritten note tucked beside your coffee cup before he heads out. The way he remembers things you don’t even remember telling him - your favourite parts of a book, a song you mentioned offhand weeks ago, the smallest details that make you feel seen in a way no one else ever has.

A breath of laughter escapes you - soft, incredulous, not mocking but disbelieving. “Baby,” you say gently, warmth laced in every word. “Those things? The things they were talking about? That’s just…what most guys do at some point.”

At that, Heeseung shrinks a little, his shoulders drawing in as though your words only confirm his worst fears. His face falls, vulnerability flickering across his expression. You see the downward spiral start again, but before he can fall too deep, you reach for him. Your palm finds his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin in slow, reassuring strokes.

You don’t let him sit in those thoughts for long.

“But you - you’re the rare 0.0000001% that isn’t like that,” you continue, your voice steady and confident in your own declaration. “Hee, you listen to me even when I’m rambling about the same thing for the hundredth time. You show up for me, no matter how tired or stressed you are. I don’t think you’ve ever missed a date, let alone forgotten one.”

His lips part slightly, like he wants to argue, but the words don’t come. His eyes meet yours, uncertainty still lingering, but something in the way you’re looking at him keeps him quiet.

“You’ve never turned up late to anything, not once,” you add, a small smile tugging at your lips as your hand drifts down, resting against his chest. Beneath your palm, his heartbeat is vibrating with love. “You’re thoughtful in ways those girls were probably wishing for when they were talking. And even when things get rough, you never make me feel like I’m alone in it. You’re always there, Heeseung. Always.”

Heeseung exhales, slow and deep, your words finally settling into him. There’s still hesitation in his eyes, but the pressure in his shoulders has shifted, loosened just a little. He shakes his head, the smallest of smiles ghosting across his lips. But you can tell - he’s still trying to let go of the doubt entirely.

“I just…” He pauses, glancing down as if searching for the right words. “I don’t ever want to take you for granted. I never want to be that guy who doesn’t pay attention. Who makes you feel like you’re not important.”

“You could never,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips, letting it linger just long enough to feel the warmth of him. “The fact that you want to be a good boyfriend already proves that you are one.”

Heeseung lets out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your lips as you peck his lips once more to punctuate your reassurances. He bites his lip, giving you that boyish, slightly embarrassed smile that always makes your heart flutter.

“You think so?” he asks, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s seeking reassurance even though he knows he’s already got it.

You raise an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “I know so,” you tease, letting your fingers trace gentle circles on his chest. “I mean, come on - how many boyfriends out there get worried in the middle of the night about whether they’re doing enough for their girlfriends? You’re basically setting the bar impossibly high for everyone else.”

Heeseung chuckles again, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “Oh, so now I’m the standard, huh?”

“You’re more than the standard, you’re the dream.”

Grinning widely, your boyfriend leans in to kiss you once again, this time more confident and at ease. It’s not like Heeseung to be vulnerable like this, the mix of alcohol and the early hours playing a massive part in his sudden change in behaviour. But he is so thankful that you aren’t judging him or deflecting his concerns in a passive moment even though you could have. It speaks volumes of your love and adoration for him, and that makes him feel more loved than anything else in the world.

His pretty lips melt with yours, your love blooming through each passing breath and brush of his nose with yours. His palms find a place on your waist as he guides you to crawl onto his lap, the sheets that were keeping you warm in your cocoon of sleep now long gone, the heat from Heeseung’s love now flooding your bloodstream. 

His hands slide up your waist, fingers exploring the curve of your sides before resting at the small of your back. The heat of his touch burns through the thin fabric of your pyjamas, setting you alight under his fingertips. He pulls you closer, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease and you can feel the beat of his heart and the ridge of his cock all at once - lust and love both present.

The kiss deepens and you find yourselves in a rhythm, the kind where neither of you is in a rush, savouring the moment for all it’s worth. His lips move with yours in an intoxicating way, every caress from his tongue sends shivers along your spine. He tastes like something familiar, something safe and beautiful - like home.

“I love you so fucking much, baby,” he murmurs into the kiss, his voice dripping in longing, each word brushing against your lips like a secret meant only for you. His breath fans over your face and the way he speaks, the pure adoration in his tone, makes your chest swell with so much emotion you feel like you might physically combust. It’s a confession he’s made a thousand times yet each time it feels like the first because he means it just as heavily each time.

If there was ever a reason for your heart to exist, for your lungs to keep breathing, it is to love Heeseung. Your heart is to keep you alive, but if you can't love him like this, there's no reason for it to keep pumping.

Nodding at his confession, you smile against his lips, a sound of contentment escaping you as you press closer to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of him. You want to be as close as physically possible to this man. Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you deepen the kiss, pouring all your love into it. 

“I love you too, Hee,” you whisper between kisses, your voice low, filled with a yearning ache that matches his. “Always.”

His hands tighten around you, holding you as though you might slip away, his kisses becoming more urgent, more desperate. It’s the last few worries working through his brain, finding an escape in your comforting embrace.

Hands roaming your now fully alert body, Heeseung grips and caresses every inch of you he can, his fingers dancing along your back as his nails drag down ever so gently, just enough for you to feel the bite. He needs you under his skin. He needs you part of him. He needs you full stop.

Every brush of his lips, every gentle tug of your lower lip, every graze of his teeth sends a thrill through you, making your skin hum with electricity. His hand moves up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with emotion, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“I know we just had a sappy moment and I don’t want this to take away from it, but I’m horny as fuck right now.”

A sharp laugh escapes you, breaking through the moment, and you shake your head at Heeseung's bluntness, though the heat in the room is unmistakable. His words might’ve caught you off guard, but they don’t surprise you - it’s just so him to switch from vulnerability to desire. One of the many, many, reasons you adore him.

You grin goofily at him, your hands still tangled in his hair. “Oh, really?” you tease, your voice light but laced with that same unspoken tension that’s been building between you. “I never would have guessed with your cock poking my thigh.”

You both look down and see Heeseung’s member semi-hard, concealed only by his boxers. It makes you bite your lip in lust as you reply moments that his thick cock has taken you to the stars, has made you arch your back as your heart tries to leap from your chest and shout how much you love his inches pounding into you.

Heeseung's cheeks flush a deep pink, only adding to the alcohol flush he still has blushing over his features, but that signature mischievous grin appears on his face, his embarrassment melting into amusement. He lets out a soft chuckle, his eyes flicking between your teasing gaze and the obvious evidence of his desire pressing against you.

"Well," he says, his voice dropping an octave, his hand tightening slightly on your waist, "you can’t blame me, can you? I mean, look at you." His tone is playful, but there’s no mistaking the hunger behind his words as his eyes drag over your body, drinking in every inch of you. His lips find their way to your neck, teeth working in tandem to nip at your skin before he speaks again. “Y’know, I guess I should prove that I’m a good boyfriend, not just say it.”

A part of you wants to tell him that he proves it every day, that he is even proving it right now, but you know what this will lead to and you’ll be damned if you don’t let him continue. So you play along, smirking as you feel his mouth move south, kissing over your collarbone.

“I think you should,” you giggle out in a moan as his teeth sink into you. The sound escapes your lips, a mixture of laughter and desire, and you feel his cock twitch at the sound, a primal response that only fuels the fire igniting between you both. 

Any noise you make is Heeseung’s favourite song.

With a swift motion, Heeseung peels your tank top off, revealing your breasts. He ogles at them, memorising every mark, line, and curve of them as if he doesn’t study them every day. If he was set the challenge to draw them from memory, he could pass with flying colours.

Attaching his mouth to your right nipple, he teasingly bites around the peak and flicks it with his tongue before wrapping his lips around it, sucking gently as though he’s savouring a fine wine; your body has the same effect as alcohol on him anyway. 

The sensation sends an electric jolt through you, arching your back and pushing your chest further into him, a silent plea for more. Heeseung's hands grab hold of your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive skin, heightening the atmosphere in the room.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he mumbles against your skin, punctuating each word with soft kisses. The way he admires you - like you’re a masterpiece and he’s not even worthy to be standing in the museum you decorate - fills you with a sense of pride. You never feel more beautiful or worthy than when you’re in your boyfriend’s arms. 

You can’t help but tilt your head back, surrendering to the desire-filled feeling crashing over you as he lavishes the skin on your body.

His mouth moves from your breast to your collarbone, trailing kisses that leave a path of fire in their wake. As he nips at your skin, you feel a rush of warmth pool low in your belly, the heady mix of desire and adoration overwhelming. Heeseung's fingers dig into your hips, anchoring you to him, and you can feel the way his body responds to yours - hard and insistent against your thigh. 

“Am I proving myself?” he asks playfully, pulling back to look into your eyes, his gaze dark with lust and mischief. His lips glisten slightly, and you can’t help but admire how he looks at this moment - wild and undone, completely lost in the taste of you.

“More than you know,” you breathe, a smile creeping onto your lips as you lean in closer, brushing your nose against his. The closeness feels intoxicating, every heartbeat syncing with his own. “But I think there’s a way you can really prove it to me.”

With a playful glint in your eye, you push him back gently, manoeuvring him to lie flat against the sheets of your shared bed. You straddle him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips as you trap him. 

Leaning down, you place a teasing kiss on his lips before trailing your mouth lower, down his chest, relishing every inch of skin you encounter. He tastes like a mix of his body wash and perfume. You take your time, letting your lips brush against his abs, ghosting and teasing while feeling the taut muscles beneath your fingertips as you draw nearer to where you want to be.

“This doesn’t feel like me proving I’m a good boyfriend if you’re doing all the work,” he laughs, his voice rich with playful sarcasm.

“Just relax,” you murmur, looking up at him through your thick lashes, “I’ve got this.” With that, you grip the waistband of his boxers and edge them down, revealing him fully. The sight of his arousal makes your heart race even faster. Fuck, he’s so delicious. The air is thick with tension and anticipation, and as you wrap your fingers around him, the knowing of what’s to come sends shivers down your spine.

“Seriously, Y/N, why don’t I-”

You interrupt him, your voice playful yet sultry, “I’m literally in love with your cock, so if you want to ‘prove’ you’re a good boyfriend, you’ll let me suck it.” You smile innocently up at your boyfriend, and the mischievous glint in your eyes only heightens the intensity surrounding you.

 When you say you love his cock, that isn’t even enough to convey just how much you worship it.

For the past year, this single cock has taken you to heaven and back, lifting you past the clouds and into galaxies that haven’t even been explored yet. Heeseung has done more for your pleasure than any self-exploration or rose toy could ever hope to give you. If he wants to talk about women’s complaints about their boyfriends, unsatisfying sex is more common than not, and he has yet to disappoint you.

When you first started dating, the chemistry between you was so strong that you found yourselves lost in each other’s arms on the very first date. Even then, while you still had so much to learn about one another - your likes and dislikes, how you moved with one another - Heeseung somehow pressed every button inside you, fine-tuning spots you hadn’t even discovered. He is so attuned to your needs, both physically and mentally.

That is how you know he is a cut above the rest.

With a teasing grin, you peel his boxers down further, whisking them off and throwing them to the floor. You take a moment to admire him, the way his dick stands eager and glistening. It’s a sight that always sends a rush of heat straight to your cunt, making it purr and mewl out to be stuffed.

Leaning in closer, you let your breath ghost over the tip of his bell, watching as he shakes out a breath in response. The tension in his body is palpable and it fuels your desire even more. You love to see him wriggle beneath you - it makes you feel good. Probably a people-pleaser trait that you’ve developed. But if it’s Heeseung? You want to do your very most to please.

You give him a slow, teasing lick, starting from the base and moving up to the tip, taking your time to savour the taste of him. A low groan escapes his lips, and the sound makes your heart race, sending a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire, “you really don’t have to-”

But you cut him off again, looking at him with pleading eyes. “I want to,” you assure him, your voice a whisper as you lean in, capturing his tip in your mouth. The warmth of you envelops him, and you hollow your cheeks, sucking gently as you begin to take him deeper.

Heeseung’s hands find their way to your hair, fingers threading through it as he guides you softly, his breaths turning into heavy pants. You love the way he watches you, eyes dark and filled with admiration and lust. As you take him deeper, you let your tongue swirl around the tip, teasing and tantalising him, every flick sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Gathering your hair into a ponytail and threading his fingers through your strands to make sure he doesn’t miss a bit, he begins to tie your hair up. He does this; one, so he can see your pretty lips wrapping around him, and two, because he knows how annoyed you get when your hair is in your face. It’s partly the reason why he always carries a bobble on his wrist, for spontaneous times like this. 

The black bobble has come in handy more times than he can count; parties, work events, in the car, you name it. You love to suck his cock, there was no denying it, and you will take any opportunity, hence why he is always prepared.

With each slow movement, you can feel Heeseung tense. You watch him closely, revelling in the way his mouth falls open, struggling to find the words to express what he’s feeling - though, his face does enough explaining. His chest rises and falls, each breath coming faster than the last as you continue to work your mouth around him. 

“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, his voice shaky as he tries to keep control. You can sense his yearning and quite honestly, it makes you feel so powerful. With every moment that passes, you grow more determined to show him just how much he means to you.

You start to pick up the pace, your head moving faster as you slide him deeper into your mouth, allowing your lips to wrap around him snugly. You can feel the muscles in his thighs tense, his body urging you on as he struggles not to bust a load in your mouth right here and now. The raw desperation in his eyes only ignites your need for him, and you find yourself lost in the rhythm of it, moving in sync with the unspoken connection between you.

“Y/N, please, I’ll not last long,” he murmurs, his voice thick with the urge as he bites his lip, a look of pleasure painting his features. You can tell he’s holding back, wanting to let go but trying to let you take your time. The contrast of his restraint against your eagerness sends a rush of heat through you, and you can feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips as you squeeze his thighs.

Instead of slowing down, you push him fully down your throat, the bell of his cock sitting exactly where your voicebox is located, and you swallow. It’s something you know he loves more than anything and thanks to a lot of practice paired with patience from your boyfriend, you perfected it. 

Your throat gags at the intrusion of his cock as it tries to gulp down, Heeseung thrashes beneath you, holding in his breath and he tenses, toes curling in desperation. 

“Jesus, fuck,” he gasps out through gritted teeth, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming him. His fingers grip your hair tighter, a mix of pleasure and desperation coursing through him as he feels you take him deeper than ever. The warm heat enveloping him is almost too much to bear, and he can't help but thrust his hips slightly, seeking that delicious friction that drives him wild.

You can feel every shudder and quake of his body, the way he fights against the urge to let go. With each swallow, you tighten your throat around him, your body instinctively reacting to his need. The vibrations from your throat send delicious, torturous vibrations through his entire length, and you can tell he’s so fucking close.

“Y/N,” he moans, his voice laced with an intoxicating mix of desperation and awe. “You’re so fucking perfect.” The way he breathes your name is music to your ears, fueling your desire even more. The rasp in his tone along with the tiny giggle that pushes out, showcases the glee he is feeling within himself. It’s a beautiful contrast to how this rude awakening started.

Determined to push him over the edge, you pull back just slightly, letting the tip of him rest on your tongue as you swirl it around his knob, dipping it past his slit a few times before diving back down, taking him fully once more. Each movement is deliberate, each glide of your lips sending him further into the abyss of pleasure. The sound of your lips slurping and the wetness of your mouth fills the room, creating an intoxicating rhythm that both of you are losing yourself in.

“Please, stop,” he begs, his eyes squeezing shut as he loses himself in the moment. “I can’t hold back much longer.” You revel in the power you have over him, the way your actions leave him breathless and needy. It’s a perfect feeling, one that makes you want to do this forever, to draw out his pleasure as long as you can.

But just as you think he might tumble over the edge, Heeseung suddenly pulls you off of him, his chest heaving with short breaths as he fights to regain control. His gaze is dark, filled with desire and a hint of desperation, and it sends a thrill through you as he locks eyes with you.

With a swift motion, he pulls your face up to his, capturing your lips in a feverish kiss. It’s a clash of passion, sweetness and raw hunger as his mouth moves against yours. He can taste the remnants of your earlier actions on his tongue but he doesn’t care, he’s never been one to care about that, unlike some men.

Again, a reason why he’s a cut above the rest.

As you kiss, his fingers find home between your legs, feeling how wet you are just from sucking his cock. The feeling makes him smirk, his ego growing along with his arousal. He pushes your shorts and underwear to the side and you gasp into his mouth as you feel the heat of his member sliding against your pussy. 

“I need you so fucking bad,” Heeseung breathes between kisses. You can feel the urgency in his words, the way his body reacts to yours, the heat radiating off him, makes your heart race faster, and you instinctively press against him, seeking that sweet friction. “Let me fuck you, please, baby.” Heeseung is whiny and desperate, which means you know he’s close, seeking out that sweet release.

And you are more than happy to give him it.

You break the kiss just long enough to whisper, “Fuck me, please, Hee.” 

The invitation drives him over the edge, losing control completely, and you can see the flicker of determination in his eyes as he moves to claim you, each moment stretching out as you both surrender to the overwhelming connection that binds you together.

With pure greed, Heeseung captures your lips again, his mouth moving against yours with urgency. When his mouth finds your breasts again, he takes your right nipple into his mouth, sucking gently before nibbling around the peak, his tongue swirling and teasing as he sends waves of pleasure through you.

Slipping into your heat, Heeseung’s cock finally stretches you open, a gasp in harmony orchestrating around your bedroom. Your eyes roll back as he fills you to the hilt, the exquisite sensation sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through every part of your body. Heeseung pauses for just a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his breath coming in heavy pants as he watches you. 

“God, you feel amazing,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need as he slowly pulls back, only to plunge deep again. Each thrust is a slow exploration at first as he seeks to bring you both to that blissful peak. The sensation of his cock sliding against your inner walls sends waves of pleasure through you. Heeseung's eyes never leave your face, drinking in the sight of you lost in ecstasy, each gasp and moan drawing him deeper into the moment.

Heeseung's hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he finds a steady rhythm, pushing deeper with each jerk of his hips, trying to prove to you just how great of a boyfriend he can be, how he will give you everything he has; mind, body, and spirit. 

Your body instinctively responds, arching into him, craving more as the world around you fades into the background. The sounds of skin slapping against skin echo in the quiet room, punctuated by the choir of your shared gasps and moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans, his voice low and husky, thick with pleasure as he quickens his pace. It doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you, your walls will always welcome him in the most delicious way. 

You can feel the tension building within you with each thrust. The urgency in his movements builds, each movement charged with desperation and longing as he works hard to drive you both to the brink. He leans down, capturing your lips in another messy albeit loving kiss, stealing what little breath you have left.

As he kisses you, his hands roam down to your thighs, lifting your legs higher to allow him even deeper access. The shift in angle has you moaning like a pornstar as he hits that sweet spot inside you. You can feel the pressure building, the familiar tight coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter within you, urging you closer to release.

“Y/N,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and breathy, filled with both desire and admiration. “You’re everything to me.” The words resonate deep within your chest, and they only serve to heighten the intensity of your love for him. “I want you to cum for me,” he murmurs, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in perfect time with his thrusts, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive bud.

The sensation of his fingers combined with the friction of his cock sends you spiralling toward the edge. With each stroke of his cock and each slow circle of his thumb, you can feel the heat pooling in your core, a delicious tension building that threatens to overflow.

“Hee, I’m so close,” you gasp, nails digging into his back as the sensations overwhelm you. Heeseung groans in response, his thrusts growing more frantic, his desire matching your own as he chases that high alongside you. “Just a little more, baby, you can take it,” he urges, his voice thick with need, every thrust a promise of the pleasure to come.

Your breaths come in sharp bursts as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, the world around you narrowing to just the two of you. With every movement, Heeseung brings you closer to the edge, the rhythm of his hips and the precision of his fingers drawing you nearer to bliss. Your body begins to tremble, the coil inside you winding tighter as Heeseung’s pace quickens, urgency fueling every thrust.

“Let go for me, baby,” he whispers, each word enveloped with need, and that simple command pushes you over the edge. With a shriek, your body explodes in pleasure, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as you shatter beneath him.

The sensation washes over you, and as you lose yourself to it, you can feel Heeseung following closely behind, his own release spilling into you as he groans your name, ropes of his cum painting your walls, the heat adding to your pleasure and making your cunt try and swallow each drop. 

As the waves of pleasure finally begin to subside, you find yourself still tangled together, your breaths mingling in the now warm air. Heeseung’s arms are wrapped securely around you, holding you close as his heartbeat gradually slows, though the lingering electricity between you remains palpable. You can feel the aftershocks of your climax coursing through you along with the final jumps of his cock, each pulse a gentle reminder of the ecstasy you just shared.

Heeseung gently pulls out, and a soft whimper escapes your lips at the loss, but he’s quick to pull you into his embrace, cradling you against his chest. His fingers brush through your hair, and you can’t help but smile, the afterglow of your connection illuminating your heart. 

“So...did I prove myself,” he breathes, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he meets your gaze. There’s a playful glint in his eyes, his brows wiggling. You’re so happy to have this Heeseung back, the worries and doubts are long gone.

“You never had to prove anything, Hee. You prove yourself every single day.” Your voice is earnest and raw, meaning every word. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek as you stroke his flushed face. “I love you so much, baby. Please never doubt yourself like that again.” 

Heeseung’s eyes soften at your words, a bashfulness coming over his features as he leans into your touch. The sincerity in your voice wraps around him like a comforting blanket, easing away any lingering insecurities. 

“You really mean that?”

“Of course, I do,” you assure him, the depth of your love for him echoing amongst each syllable. “You are everything I have ever wanted and more. I don’t just say it for the sake of it, you know. You really are perfect for me, Hee. Perfect in general.”

His heart swells at your declaration, a grin lighting his face the way the moon lights up the room. “Well, I guess that means I should keep doing what I’m doing, yeah?”

“Abso-fucking-luty, “ you giggle, kissing his chest before you settle your head there, listening to his heartbeat, the one that beats only for you. “Just keep being mine.”

“Always.”

[00valentina-writes00]

hii i love your grayson fics soo much, your grayson is so real and you have a wonderful writing style!!

could you please do grayson x reader, who is overworked and going through a mental breakdown and grayson comforts her with words and touches. maybe even some nsfw in the end, as you wish

♡♥︎“Let Me Take Care of You”♥︎♡

Your hands tremble over the stack of papers on your desk, the ink smudged where your grip has grown too tight. The words blur together—meaningless, tangled strings of letters that refuse to make sense no matter how hard you try to focus. Your breath is shallow, coming too fast, chest tight with a pressure that feels impossible to push down.

It’s all too much.

The exhaustion, the deadlines, the expectations piling higher and higher until you feel like you might suffocate under them.

You don’t even hear the door open.

Not until a warm, steady hand presses against your back.

“Sweetheart.”

The voice is deep, calm—soothing in a way that makes something in you crack.

Grayson.

Her touch is gentle as she kneads slow circles into your shoulders, fingers pressing into the knots of tension wound tight beneath your skin. She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t push—just stands behind you, letting the warmth of her presence sink into your bones.

You inhale shakily, but it stutters on the way out.

“You’re shaking,” she murmurs, more to herself than to you.

You press your lips together, blinking hard against the sting behind your eyes.

“I—I’m fine,” you manage, voice rough.

Grayson hums, unconvinced. “Come here.”

You don’t resist when she gently pulls you up from your chair, guiding you into her arms. She holds you firm against her chest, her chin resting atop your head. The steady rise and fall of her breath presses into your back, grounding you in something real, something solid.

“You’re working yourself too hard again,” she murmurs, her fingers rubbing slow, soothing circles against your arms.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I can’t stop,” you whisper. “There’s too much to do, I just—”

She hushes you gently, lips brushing your temple. “You can stop. Just for a little while.”

Your body resists at first—muscles still locked in tension, mind still racing with all the things you should be doing. But Grayson holds you steady, arms firm but comforting, the scent of her lingering after a long shift—the faint musk of leather, metal, and something warm that belongs entirely to her.

And slowly, bit by bit, you sink.

She feels it too—the way your body finally starts to relax into her, the way your breathing evens out just the slightest bit.

“That’s it,” she soothes, her hands stroking gently down your back. “Just breathe, love.”

You do.

For the first time in what feels like hours, you actually let yourself breathe.

The weight of her hands, the warmth of her chest against your back—it makes you feel small in the best way, like you don’t have to hold everything up by yourself for once.

Grayson shifts, pressing a kiss to the side of your head before murmuring, “Come lie down with me.”

You hesitate.

“I’m not tired,” you lie, voice hoarse.

She chuckles softly, but there’s something fond in it. “Sweetheart, you’re exhausted.”

Her fingers slip beneath your chin, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet her gaze. Those dark eyes study you, soft yet unwavering, seeing through you in the way she always does.

She leans down, brushing her lips over your forehead before whispering, “Let me take care of you.”

Your stomach twists, not in nervousness, but in something warm.

You nod, letting her guide you to the couch, pulling you down into her lap once she sits. She keeps you close, one hand resting at your waist, the other stroking absentmindedly over your arm, up to your shoulder, back down again—an absentminded, grounding rhythm.

“You do too much,” she murmurs after a while, fingers tracing slow, lazy shapes against your skin.

You swallow.

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

She sighs, pressing a kiss against your temple. “It’s more than enough.”

Her lips trail lower, soft against your jaw. “You are enough.”

Your breath catches.

Grayson takes her time with you, every touch slow and careful, every kiss a patient reminder that you’re here, that you’re safe, that nothing outside this moment matters.

When her hands finally drift lower, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt, it’s not rushed. It’s not urgent.

It’s just her.

Taking care of you.

Loving you.

Her hands slip lower, fingertips teasing beneath your shirt, skimming along your stomach, brushing higher until they’re cupping your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples through the fabric.

Your breath stutters.

She smiles against your skin, enjoying the way you shiver, the way your body slowly starts responding to her touch.

“Good girl,” she murmurs. “That’s it.”

Her hands ease lower, dipping beneath the waistband of your pants, her fingers slipping between your thighs.

You gasp, your hips jolting, thighs parting instinctively for her, giving her access to where you need her most.

Grayson hums approvingly, lips ghosting over your jaw.

“Always so tense,” she muses, voice dropping as her fingers stroke between your folds, parting them with slow, teasing movements. “You just need a little help, don’t you?”

You nod, breathless, forehead resting against her shoulder, letting her guide you down onto the couch.

Grayson settles behind you, legs framing yours, her arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close as her fingers continue their slow, torturous pace.

“You’re soaked,” she murmurs, dragging her fingers through your slick. “Been needing this, haven’t you?”

You whimper, hips rocking instinctively into her touch.

She chuckles, low and warm, slipping a finger inside you—slow, deliberate, letting you feel every inch as she curls it just right.

Your body melts, the tension unraveling, pleasure seeping into your muscles like warmth after a long winter.

“That’s it,” she whispers, pressing a kiss behind your ear. “Let go for me.”

She adds another finger, pumping into you slow and deep, her palm grinding against your clit, her free hand stroking your stomach, grounding you in sensation

You moan, breath hitching, body arching into her, needing more.

Grayson obliges.

Her pace quickens, fingers fucking into you with steady, unrelenting precision, her mouth trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

She knows your body. Knows exactly how to touch you, exactly how to pull you apart, how to take care of you in a way no one else does.

“You’re safe,” she murmurs. “You’re mine. You don’t have to do anything but feel this.”

And you do.

You feel everything.

Your body surrendering, your mind quieting, every last ounce of tension unraveling as pleasure overtakes you completely.

Time slows.

The world fades.

All that exists is her.

Her touch.

Her voice.

Her love.

You’re safe here.

Safe in her arms, in her warmth, in the slow, steady rhythm of her fingers guiding you into bliss.

And for the first time in weeks, you let yourself relax.

You let yourself breathe.

[rd0265667]

Mina x Reader: Enough

“You know this is why IT hates you, right? Your keyboards have such a short lifespan it’s almost pitiful.”

I turned, blinking out of the fog of my own exhaustion, just in time to see that shit-eating grin aimed directly at me.

Darius. Of course.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair and rubbing my eyes. Everything ached—my wrists, my shoulders, my brain. My fingers were stiff from typing for… how long? Hours? Days? Time had blurred into a loop of emails, deadlines, and the relentless glow of my laptop screen.

“Did you come here just to critique my work habits, or do you actually need something?” I muttered.

Darius dropped into the chair across from me, stretching out like he had nowhere better to be. “I need you to not drop dead from exhaustion at your desk. So, yeah, I’d call this an intervention.”

“I’m fine,” I said, waving him off.

“You say that, but I just watched you mutter threats at your Wi-Fi like it personally wronged you.”

“It has. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Right. And how many hours of sleep have you gotten in the past forty-eight hours?”

I didn’t answer. Not because I was hiding anything, but because I honestly didn’t know.

Darius sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, Atlas. You brought this on yourself.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean—”

He pulled out his phone. Started typing. Smirked.

My stomach dropped. “Darius, what are you doing?”

“Solving the problem,” he said, still typing.

“Darius.”

He raised a single finger, silencing me. A beat later, his phone lit up with an incoming call, and he grinned before answering.

“Hey, Mina,” he said, far too smug. “Yeah, they’re doing it again.”

I groaned. “You absolute traitor.”

Darius ignored me. “No, I’d say we’re at a solid nine out of ten on the workaholic scale. At least three empty coffee cups, significant eye strain, possible early-onset keyboard rage.” He paused, nodding like Mina could see him. “Yep. I’ll wait.”

I closed my eyes, debating my life choices.

“Before you complain,” Darius added, finally putting his phone down, “you do realize this is self-inflicted, right?”

I scoffed. “Excuse me for covering for people who have actual emergencies.”

“Y—”

“Emily’s out because her kid’s sick, Marcus has a family thing, and James is on leave,” I said, voice sharper than I intended. “Who else is supposed to handle their workload?”

Darius gave me a long, unimpressed look. “I don’t know, maybe their boss?”

I exhaled through my nose. “Their boss is drowning, too.”

“And you think you can single-handedly save everyone?”

“Someone has to.”

Darius pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about self-sacrificing idiots before looking back at me. “Atlas, you are one person. And before you argue, I’d like to remind you that you’ve been running on caffeine and spite for at least two days. This is not a sustainable lifestyle.”

I wanted to argue. I really, really did. But I felt the weight of his words settle in my chest, heavy in a way I couldn’t shake.

And then my phone buzzed.

Mina.

Darius grinned. “And that would be your girlfriend, probably ready to stage a full-scale extraction.”

I swallowed. “I hate you.”

“Aw, love you too, you little diva.”

I shot him a look that was half-warning, half-annoyed, before reluctantly answering the call. “Hey, baby.”

There was a long, tense silence on the other end before Mina’s voice sliced through the quiet. It was sharp, tight, and dripping with the kind of displeasure I only heard when she was really angry. “Don’t ‘hey, baby’ me, Y/N. Darius says you haven’t slept.”

I winced, rubbing my face. “I’ve slept,” I said, my voice coming out far more defensive than I’d intended. “Just… not as much as I should have.”

“Not as much?” Mina’s voice was dangerously low now, as if the very thought of it was enough to make her blood boil. “How many hours?”

I hesitated, eyes darting to Darius, who was watching me like I was about to perform some kind of spectacular failure. “Uh… define ‘hours.’”

There was a long pause, and I could almost feel her eyes narrowing through the phone. “How many hours, Y/N?”

I cringed, then finally mumbled, “I don’t know, two, maybe three.”

There was a cold, almost hurt laugh from Mina. “Two hours,” she repeated, like the number itself was something obscene. “I’m coming back.”

I nearly choked. “What? No, Mina—Mina, no. You have a concert soon. You’re on tour! You can’t just leave because I didn’t sleep enough.”

“Mhm.” Her tone was flat, but I could feel the edges of frustration in the simple sound. “I’m coming back.”

“Mina, you can’t. You have obligations—the girls needs you there,” I insisted, trying to reason with her, but it felt futile. She wasn’t even listening to me anymore.

“I’m coming back,” she repeated, as if that was the only sentence she was willing to speak on the matter.

“Please, you can’t just drop everything for me. I’m fine, I just—”

“You’re fine?” Her voice was ice cold, cutting through me. “Darius told me you’ve been running on caffeine and spite for the last few days, and you’re fine? Don’t you dare lie to me, Y/N.”

I froze, the weight of her words sinking in.

“Fine doesn’t sound like this,” she continued, her voice growing colder, quieter. “I don’t know what’s worse—the fact that you’re running yourself into the ground like this, or that you think I’m just going to sit here and watch you do it.”

“I’m not—” I started, but she cut me off, her words coming faster now, more impatient.

“You think I don’t know you, Y/N?” She scoffed. She let out a bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“Mina—”

“I’ll be back tomorrow, and if I find your dumbass even thinking of work, I swear you’ll regret it,” she snapped, and before I could argue further, she hung up.

I was left standing there with the dead silence of the call still buzzing in my ear. My chest felt hollow, the words she didn’t say sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach.

Darius, of course, was watching me with a look that said he was thoroughly enjoying this whole exchange. “Well, that was something.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I let my head fall onto my desk with a dull thud, my mind spinning.

“I will murder you.” I muttered into the wood.

Darius laughed softly, his voice teasing. “If you make it out alive, take your best shot.”

When Mina finally got home, I was lying on the couch, fingers absentmindedly worrying the frayed edge of the blanket draped over me. I had been waiting for what felt like hours, nerves coiled too tightly to focus on anything else. The apartment was quiet, the only light coming from the television screen, frozen on the selection menuIt had been so still, so empty, that when I heard the lock click, I almost startled.

She stepped inside softly, closing the door with a controlled, measured quiet. The faint rustling of fabric as she toed off her shoes, the muted clink of keys dropped onto the counter, the way she exhaled—like she was trying to keep it even. But she didn’t speak.

The silence stretched between us, heavy, expectant.

I stole a glance over my shoulder, catching the way she moved through the apartment with a careful kind of precision. No sharp looks, no frustrated sighs. No words, either.

A rustle of plastic. The quiet pop of the TV remote. The familiar hum of the screen shifting menus. And then, the opening notes of Pacific Rim.

My stomach twisted.

She sank onto the opposite end of the couch, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her presence but not close enough to touch. Her posture was relaxed, casual, but too deliberate to be real.

I watched her for a beat, waiting for her to look at me, to say something, to roll her eyes and finally break the tension. But she just reached into the bag she had brought, pulled out a pack of snacks, and set them on the coffee table without a word.

The movie played on, but I barely registered it.

“Mina.” My voice came out quieter than I expected.

She didn’t look at me.

The weight of unspoken things sat heavy between us, thick and unmoving, and I shifted, searching for the right words, the right way to explain. “I—” I hesitated, then sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Nothing. Not even a flicker of acknowledgment.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” I tried again, voice threading into the spaces between the sounds of crashing Jaegers and roaring Kaiju. “I just thought I could handle it.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t turn.

But her fingers curled slightly against her thigh, just for a second.

The movie played on, the blue glow of the screen flickering against the walls, but I wasn’t really watching. Not really. I could recite half the lines from Pacific Rim by heart, but right now, they blurred together, the action sequences nothing more than background noise to the silence still hanging between us.

Mina sat next to me, but she might as well have been miles away. She wasn’t curled into my side like she usually would be, wasn’t making quiet, amused comments about my favorite scenes, wasn’t sneaking glances at me when she thought I wouldn’t notice. She just… sat there. Still. Unmoving.

I reached for the snack bag she had set on the table, something small, an excuse to fill the silence with the crinkle of plastic. The second my fingers brushed the bag, Mina moved.

Not much. Just enough.

Enough that I noticed the sharp, barely-there intake of breath. The subtle tension in her jaw as she exhaled through her nose.

I hesitated, fingers still curled around the bag. “Mina,” I said again, barely above a whisper.

She didn’t respond.

“Mina, please.”

Something in her expression shifted. A flicker of something raw before she turned away, reaching for the remote instead. The volume clicked up a few notches.

My stomach twisted.

I set the snack down and turned to her fully. “Talk to me,” I tried.

Nothing.

“I know you’re upset,” I pressed, softer now. “And I know it’s not just about—” I gestured vaguely to myself, to the exhaustion.

Her jaw tightened, but still, she said nothing.

I swallowed, letting the words settle before I spoke again. “It’s not just the work, is it?”

Mina’s fingers curled tighter around the edge of her sleeve, a slight tremor running through them before she stilled. The silence stretched thinner, sharper, until she finally exhaled, slow and measured, like she was fighting to keep herself steady.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, but edged with something that made my chest ache.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

She turned then, finally looking at me, and the weight of her gaze hit me like a punch to the gut. Her expression was still composed—controlled in the way she always was—but her eyes… Her eyes told a different story.

“You don’t tell me things,” she said, her voice still quiet but steadier now. “You always act like everything’s fine, like you’ve got it handled, like—” She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, fingers pressing hard against her temples for a second before she dropped them. “You put on a brave face, and you don’t—” Her breath hitched for the smallest moment before she caught it. “You don’t let me in. I need Darius to text me to even get an inkling of what you’re going through. What you’re really going through.”

I stared, feeling the words land like stones in my chest.

“Mina—”

“Do you not trust me?” she asked, and that’s what made my heart stop. Because she wasn’t asking it like an accusation. She was asking it like it was something that had been gnawing at her for a while.

I shook my head instantly. “Of course I trust you—”

“Then why don’t you ever let me help?”

Her voice wavered, just for a second, and it was the crack in the dam I hadn’t seen coming.

She wasn’t just angry.

She wasn’t just frustrated.

She was hurt.

I opened my mouth, then closed it, scrambling for the right thing to say, for something that would fix this. 

“I thought…” I exhaled, shaking my head. “I didn’t want to burden you.”

Mina let out a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh. “Burden me,” she echoed. “You think you could ever be a burden?”

“I just—” I ran a hand down my face, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “You have your own responsibilities, your own stress, and I didn’t want to add to it.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for the first time all night, something sharp flickered in her eyes.

“That’s not your decision to make.”

I froze.

She sat up a little straighter, gaze unwavering. “You don’t get to decide what’s too much for me. You don’t get to decide what I can or can’t handle.”

I opened my mouth, then shut it, guilt curling in my stomach. “Work has been a lot, but… I just wanted to be strong for you,” I admitted, the words barely above a whisper, my voice slowly cracking as I hung my head low.

Noticing the change in my posture, Mina couldn’t stop herself as she leaned forward, gently placing her hand on my back.

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her hand on my back, warm and grounding. It was gentle, not pushing, not demanding—just there. Just her.

Mina exhaled softly, fingers flexing ever so slightly, like she wanted to pull me closer but was holding back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Mina, it’s just been a lot at work, and I’ve tried my best, but…” My voice wavered, trailing off into nothing.

Her thumb brushed slow, soothing circles against my spine. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” she murmured. “I know you want to be strong, but strength isn’t just about holding everything in. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to lean on someone.”

I let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to let you down.”

She sighed, but there was no frustration in it this time, just quiet understanding. “You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

I swallowed again, something thick and knotted in my throat. “But what if my best isn’t enough?”

Mina didn’t hesitate. She squeezed my shoulder, firm and certain. “Well, it’s enough for me.”

The words hit me like a slow, spreading warmth, something deep inside loosening. I blinked, eyes stinging, and when I finally looked up, Mina was watching me, her gaze steady and unwavering.

She gave me a small, knowing smile. “You’re enough, okay? You always have been.”

My chest ached, but in a way that felt… lighter. Like some of the weight had finally lifted. I nodded, exhaling shakily. “Okay.”

Mina shifted closer, her presence a perfect warmth beside me. When she wrapped her arm around me, I didn’t hesitate. I leaned in, pressing my forehead softly against her shoulder, breathing in the calming scent of her hair. The world outside seemed to disappear, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, curled up on the couch in the soft glow of the TV. I let myself relax completely, sinking into the moment, allowing myself to just be here with her.

After a beat, Mina rested her chin gently against the top of my head, her breath warm against my skin. I could feel the soft rise and fall of her chest as she sighed contentedly. “Now, are we watching this movie, or do I need to fight Pacific Rim for your attention?” she teased, her voice light and full of playful affection.

A small, broken laugh bubbled out of me at her words, a smile tugging at my lips. Mina’s lips quirked in that satisfied way, and I felt her arm tighten slightly around me as if to claim me in the most gentle, affectionate way. It made my heart flutter. She wasn’t just holding me; she was there, with me, in the most comforting way.

“Okay, okay, you win,” I murmured, the warmth of her embrace making it impossible to pull away from the comfort she provided. I didn’t even care about the movie anymore. All that mattered was the feeling of her hand gently running up and down my arm, the steady rhythm calming me even further.

Mina pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head and gave me a playful squeeze. “Good,” she said, her voice softening. “But seriously, Y/N... you’ve been working way too hard. I’m glad to see you finally letting yourself rest.” She gave a little wink, but there was a softness in her tone that made her words feel more like a gentle nudge than a lecture. “Don’t make me start scheduling your breaks for you.”

I let out a small laugh, squeezing her a little tighter in response. “I know, I know,” I whispered, my voice muffled by her shoulder.

Mina hummed, her chin resting back against my hair. “Well, I will have to keep an eye on you,” she teased. “No more all-nighters, okay? If I catch you working late again, I’ll just show up and drag you away.”

I chuckled, the sound light and free. “I think I can handle that,” I said, snuggling closer to her.

Mina kissed the top of my head again, a gentle press of her lips that made my heart skip a beat. “Good,” she murmured. “Now, let’s actually watch the movie, yeah? I’ll even let you take a break from your overachieving self and enjoy this.”

I smiled, my heart full. Yeah. I’d be okay. With Mina by my side, everything was okay.

[andy-15-07]

Hi! As Valentine's day is coming... If you feel comfortable with it, would you write an Aaron x girlfriend reader spending Valentine's... actually night together after a hard day at work? P.S.: I really like your stories!

A Valentine's Surprise

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count: 1595 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

After a grueling day at work, you drag your feet up the stairs to your apartment, mind cluttered with endless meetings and a never-ending to-do list. As you fumble with your keys, a soft glow emanates from within, accompanied by the gentle strains of your favorite love song. The door swings open before you can even insert the key, and there he is—Aaron, his eyes warm and inviting, a tender smile curving his lips.

“Hey, love,” he greets softly, stepping aside to let you in. “I know today wasn’t easy. Come in and let me take care of you tonight.”

You set your bag down, still tired, but something in his gaze sparks a little hope—a promise of comfort and tenderness after the storm of the day. “Aaron… you really shouldn’t have,” you murmur, leaning into his embrace.

“Nonsense,” he replies, gently brushing a stray hair from your face. “Tonight, it’s all about you. I’ve planned a little something special.”

Curiosity piqued, you follow him into the softly lit dining area. The room is transformed: flickering candles are arranged carefully on the table, and a trail of rose petals leads from the door to a small table set for two. A vase of fresh red roses stands proudly at the center, its fragrance mingling with the delicate aroma of the meal he’s prepared.

“Wow,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips despite the exhaustion. “This is… beautiful.”

Aaron’s eyes twinkle with mischief and affection. “I wanted to remind you how loved you are. I know you’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately, and you deserve a night just for you.”

He pulls out your chair for you with a flourish, and you settle in, your eyes never leaving his. As you both take your seats, he pours you a glass of wine. The clink of crystal and the soft murmur of the background music create an intimate bubble around you.

“So, tell me about your day,” he says, leaning forward with genuine concern. “I want to hear every detail—if you feel like sharing.”

You laugh softly, the sound mingling with the gentle music. “Every detail? It was just a mess of deadlines, meetings, and then… this.” You gesture around the room, your eyes softening as they meet his. “It means a lot that you did all this for me.”

Aaron smiles. “It’s nothing, really. I just want you to feel cherished.” He pauses, then continues, “After dinner, I have another surprise planned… but let’s enjoy this moment first.”

The conversation flows as naturally as the wine. You recount snippets of your chaotic day, and he listens intently, offering little jokes and words of encouragement. “You’re incredible,” he insists, his voice low and sincere. “I know it’s hard sometimes, but you handle everything with such grace. I admire you so much.”

At one point, he reaches across the table, taking your hand in his. “I want you to know that tonight is about more than just relaxing—it’s about celebrating us, our connection, and the love we share. I’ve been thinking a lot about how I can show you just how important you are to me.”

You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the warmth of his touch. “Aaron, you make me feel so safe, so loved. Even on my worst days, you’re here to remind me that there’s beauty in the chaos.”

As the meal comes to an end, the candles have burned low, casting a soft glow that hints at the transition to the next part of the evening. Aaron stands and offers his hand. “Come with me,” he murmurs. “I have something else planned.”

Curiosity and anticipation flutter inside you as you follow him down the hallway to the bedroom. The door opens onto a room transformed by Aaron’s careful planning—a sanctuary bathed in soft, ambient light. The bed, draped in silky sheets, is adorned with even more rose petals that mirror those in the dining room. A subtle scent of vanilla and lavender fills the air, creating a sense of calm and intimacy.

Aaron walks to the center of the room, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanted to create a space where you can truly relax,” he explains. “I’ve set everything up so that tonight, you can forget about the world and just be here, with me.”

He steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he searches your eyes for permission. “I want to make you feel cherished—every inch of you. Tonight, I want to show you how deeply I love you.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s soft at first, then deepening with an intensity that seems to echo all the unspoken words of care and desire. The kiss is both a promise and an invitation, drawing you into the moment completely.

“Aaron…” you whisper against his lips, the sound trembling with a mix of anticipation and emotion.

“Shh,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “Just let go. Tonight is our night.”

Gently, he leads you to the edge of the bed, laying you down on the plush sheets as if you were the most precious treasure in his world. He takes a moment to admire you—your beauty accentuated by the soft light, your eyes shining with a mix of wonder and desire. “You look so beautiful tonight,” he says, his voice husky with emotion.

You smile, feeling a blush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “I feel beautiful when I’m with you,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aaron reaches for a small table on the bedside, unveiling a neatly wrapped box. “I wanted to surprise you,” he explains. “I’ve been saving this for the right moment.” With care, he unties the ribbon, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry—a pendant that catches the light in a way that makes it almost magical. “This is for you. Every time you wear it, I want you to remember tonight, and know that my heart is always with you.”

Touched by his thoughtfulness, you trace the design of the pendant with your fingers. “It’s perfect,” you murmur, your eyes glistening. “Thank you, Aaron. I love it... and I love you.”

He smiles, leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss, this one filled with the promise of more. “I love you too, more than words can ever say.”

The rest of the evening unfolds in a slow, deliberate exploration of intimacy. Aaron’s hands and lips trace soft, loving paths along your skin, each touch igniting sparks of desire that melt away the remnants of the day’s stress. “I’ve missed this—us,” he whispers as he caresses your shoulder, his touch both reassuring and electrifying.

You respond with soft laughter and whispered words of affection, “I’ve missed you too, Aaron. You make me feel… alive.”

Between kisses and tender caresses, your conversation continues, as intimate and soulful as the physical closeness you share. “Tell me,” he murmurs, “what do you need from me tonight? How can I make you feel even more loved?”

You take a moment, your gaze drifting to the shadows dancing on the walls. “Just hold me,” you reply softly. “Just… make me feel like everything’s going to be alright.”

And so, he holds you. The night becomes a tapestry of whispered confessions, gentle laughter, and the quiet murmur of two hearts finding solace in each other’s embrace. The world outside—the chaos of deadlines, meetings, and exhaustion—fades away until there is nothing but the soft glow of the candlelight, the rhythmic beating of your hearts, and the shared promise of a love that heals and nurtures.

Time seems to stretch, each moment a blend of passion and tenderness, until the peak of your shared intimacy arrives like a gentle crescendo. In the dim light, every kiss and touch is a conversation of its own—a dialogue of desire, comfort, and unyielding affection.

Aaron’s whispers fill the space between you. “I want you to know, every time I look at you, I’m reminded of how lucky I am. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Your reply is a soft sigh, punctuated by the closeness of his embrace. “I never knew I could feel so safe, so cherished. Tonight… you’ve given me a love that feels endless.”

In that sacred space, the layers of stress and fatigue peel away, leaving only the raw, undeniable connection between you. Every touch is a reassurance, every whispered word a promise that this night—this moment—is a testament to the love you share. The surprise that Aaron prepared wasn’t just the carefully arranged setting or the beautiful gift; it was the depth of his care, the sincerity of his intentions, and the willingness to bare his soul for you to see.

As the night deepens, and the soft glow of dawn edges the horizon, you lie in the quiet afterglow, entwined in each other’s arms. The remnants of the evening—a scattered petal here, a half-whispered phrase there—serve as gentle reminders of the night’s magic.

Aaron brushes a kiss across your hair, murmuring, “Every day with you is a gift, but tonight… tonight has been my favorite.”

You close your eyes, a contented smile on your lips, and whisper, “Thank you, Aaron. For the dinner, the surprise, for making me feel so loved. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

In the gentle embrace of the early morning, with the promise of a new day on the horizon, you both drift into a peaceful slumber—hearts full, souls intertwined, and the memory of a Valentine’s night that will linger in your hearts forever.

[atinyjules]

Timeless Love Ft. Choi Seungcheol

A/n: Another Valentines special! Someone asked for a Seungcheol fic a LONG time back, and this fic is long overdue, but while writing, I saved it but it didn't save so I lost the request and the draft so I had to rewrite everything from the beginning.

But I hope y'all still enjoy it so let's goo

Genre: mild angst, romance, fluff, comfort

Pairings: Choi Seungcheol x Kang Naeun (fem oc)

Warnings: None

Naeun rubbed her temples as she sat at her desk, the soft glow of her laptop screen the only light in her dimly lit apartment. Her to-do list was never-ending, deadlines looming over her like storm clouds, and yet… she couldn’t focus.

Her phone lay beside her, screen dark.

It had been over a week since she and Seungcheol had last properly talked. Sure, there were messages here and there—quick check-ins, rushed “I miss you” texts—but no real conversations. No late-night calls, no stolen moments of laughter, no warmth.

And it wasn’t just him.

She had been drowning in work too—back-to-back meetings, endless revisions, and nights spent staring at her screen until her vision blurred. They were both busy, both exhausted, both barely keeping up with their own lives, let alone each other.

The distance between them was growing, and she hated it.

Had he noticed? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Or was he… used to it by now?

Her chest ached at the thought.

Just as she was about to shove those feelings away and get back to work, her phone vibrated.

Seungcheol: Are you home?

Her heart skipped.

Naeun: Yeah.

There was a pause. Then—

Seungcheol: I’m coming over.

Naeun’s breath hitched. She stared at the message, rereading it as if it would change. He’s coming over?

Her apartment was a mess—papers scattered, empty coffee cups piled on the counter, blankets tossed haphazardly over her couch. But none of that mattered.

She stood up, her pulse quickening.

It had been too long.

The knock on her door came faster than expected, and she nearly tripped over herself getting there.

She hesitated for half a second before opening it.

Seungcheol stood there, slightly out of breath, his dark eyes scanning her face. He looked exhausted—his hair was slightly dishevelled, his hoodie loose over his frame, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. But more than that, there was something else in his gaze.

Something hesitant.

Like he wasn’t sure if she still wanted him here.

The sight of him—of them—like this made something inside her crumble.

Naeun didn’t think. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, pressing her face into his chest.

Seungcheol froze for a heartbeat before his arms came around her, strong and secure, pulling her even closer. His breath shuddered against her hair, like he had been holding it in for too long.

“I missed you,” she whispered, voice barely above a breath.

His grip tightened instantly. “I missed you too. So much.”

For a long moment, they just stood there, wrapped up in each other, neither moving, neither speaking—just feeling.

It was the closest they had been in weeks, and neither wanted to let go.

When she finally pulled back slightly, he cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against her cheeks, his eyes searching hers.

“We’ve both been busy, huh?” he murmured.

She nodded. “Too busy.”

His lips quirked up slightly, though there was still something vulnerable in his expression. “I hate this. I hate feeling like we’re drifting apart.”

Her heart clenched. “Me too.”

Seungcheol exhaled slowly. “Then let’s fix it. Just for tonight, let’s forget everything else.”

And before she could respond, he leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that stole the breath from her lungs.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate—it was slow, deep, full of every unsaid word, unspoken feeling that had built up between them.

Naeun melted into him, her fingers threading through his hair, anchoring herself to him. Seungcheol’s hands slid down her back, holding her as if he was afraid she’d slip away again. The warmth of his lips, the way he tilted his head slightly to deepen the kiss—it was all so familiar, yet it sent shivers down her spine like it was the first time.

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested against each other’s, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Seungcheol’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Naeun let out a shaky breath, a small smile tugging at her lips. “I know. And I love you too.”

His arms tightened around her again, as if trying to make up for all the lost time. “I’m sorry for not making more time for us.”

She shook her head, her fingers brushing against his jaw. “It wasn’t just you. I should’ve tried harder, too.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, but it wasn’t heavy like before. It wasn’t filled with doubt or insecurity—it was warm, reassuring, theirs.

Seungcheol finally pulled back, tilting his head toward the couch. “Come here.”

She let him lead her to the sofa, where he sank down first and pulled her into his lap effortlessly. She curled into him, her head resting against his chest as his arms encircled her.

For the first time in weeks, she felt at peace.

His fingers traced light patterns on her back. “You’re not working tonight,” he murmured. “Not while I’m here.”

She huffed a soft laugh. “And what if I have deadlines?”

He tilted her chin up, a teasing glint in his tired eyes. “Then I’ll just have to distract you.”

Her heart fluttered. “Oh? And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

Seungcheol smirked before leaning in, brushing his lips against hers in the softest, sweetest kiss.

“I have a few ideas.”

She giggled, swatting his chest lightly before settling back into his arms.

Tonight, there were no deadlines, no schedules, no missed calls—just them, wrapped in each other, their love as strong as ever.

How was it?

I hope you liked it! 🥹🤍

Likes and rebloggs are appreciated ♥️✨️

[gabriel-posts-here]

my head is spinning I HATE NEUROTYPICAL EXPECTATIONS SO MUCH

[in-the-airducts]

A little late but happy holidays!

[majouartings]

PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE ZELDA *inhale* PLAYABLE ZELDA PLAYABLE Z

[earl-grey-crow]

.

[conspicuous-clown-car]

ougghhh next month is gonna be BUSY

finish playing all fnaf games (SL-HW2) on twitch, make (as in like literally sewing) an outfit for a concert, ARTFIGHT which will probably take up most my time, putting together/making several cosplays for a con (one im not excited to cosplay as but im doing it for my partner), plus some other stuff i definitely forgot, all on top of working. wwouughbh

[sonknuxadow]

overall i think movie sonic being redesigned was a good decision but sometimes i wish they had never done it with how annoying people are about it with the constant spread of misinformation about how/why it happened + this attitude people have gotten from it thinking they can get anything they don't like in a movie or show or game changed if they complain on twitter enough regardless of what exactly they're wanting changed or how close the release date is or what company is making it or whatever

[digitaldiseas3]

extremely frustrating situation

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[exopelagic]

okay I’m going insane I need to fix my sleep schedule now