#but i like it a lot and it's word of god so i might as well lean into it right 😭

[hannie-roses]

Am I just a bet to you?

Pairing: mingi x fab¡Reader

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

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

Word count: 24.9k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Y/N asked, glancing at her.

“Nothing,” Chloe said with an innocent smile.

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

“Showtime,” Mingi muttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chloe snickered softly, trying to hide her amusement.

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

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His mind was somewhere else on Y/N.

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

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

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

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

Flipping open the pages, he started jotting down ideas:

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

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

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

Mingi stared at the last note, his pen hovering above the page. Be real? He wasn’t sure he even knew how to do that. His whole persona was built on confidence, on knowing exactly what to say and when to say it. Could he really strip all of that away?

He leaned back in his chair, spinning the pen in his fingers. “If she’s different, maybe I have to be different, too.”

For the first time in a long while, Mingi felt a pang of uncertainty. He didn’t know if this was a challenge he could win, but he wasn’t about to back down.

A knock on his door snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Mingi, dinner’s ready,” his mom called from the hallway.

“Coming,” he replied, closing the notebook and tossing it onto his desk.

As he headed downstairs, one thought lingered in his mind: if Y/N wanted him to be real, then real was what she’d get.

The next morning, Mingi arrived at school with a new strategy in mind. He wasn’t going to overwhelm Y/N with grand gestures or cheesy pick-up lines. No, this time he’d take it slow, chip away at her walls bit by bit.

He spotted her at her locker, pulling books out for her first class. As usual, Chloe stood nearby, chatting animatedly. Mingi took a deep breath and approached, plastering on his most casual smile.

“Morning, Y/N,” he said, his tone softer than usual.

Y/N glanced at him briefly, then returned her attention to her locker. “Hi.”

Chloe raised an eyebrow at Mingi but said nothing, clearly waiting to see what he’d do next.

“Need help carrying those?” he offered, motioning to the stack of books in her arms.

Y/N shut her locker and turned to him with a deadpan look. “No, thanks. I’ve been managing just fine on my own.”

Mingi nodded, undeterred. “Fair enough. Just thought I’d ask. So, what’s on the agenda today? Anything exciting?”

Y/N started walking toward her class, and Mingi fell into step beside her. “Not really. Why do you care?”

He shrugged. “Trying to get to know you. Isn’t that what people do?”

Y/N sighed, clearly exasperated. “Look, Mingi, I don’t know what you’re trying to prove, but you can stop. I’m not interested.”

Chloe trailed behind them, suppressing a grin as Mingi simply smiled and said, “Noted. But I’m still not giving up.”

For the next two weeks, Mingi kept his word. Every day, he found subtle ways to get Y/N’s attention asking her opinion on random topics during lunch, joining her group in gym class, and even sitting near her in the library. He didn’t push too hard, but he was always there, persistent and consistent.

At first, Y/N barely acknowledged him. She rolled her eyes at his jokes, ignored his questions when she could, and even told him outright that he was wasting his time. But Mingi didn’t waver.

One day after school, Y/N sat in the library with Chloe, trying to finish an essay. Mingi wandered in, holding a coffee cup in one hand and a book in the other.

“Hey,” he said, sliding the cup onto the table in front of her.

Y/N looked up, confused. “What’s this?”

“Black coffee,” Mingi replied with a shrug. “Thought you could use it. You look like you’ve been here for hours.”

Chloe stifled a laugh as Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think I like black coffee?”

“You seem like the no-sugar type,” he said confidently.

Y/N hesitated, then took a tentative sip. It was perfect. She hated that he got it right.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning back to her work.

Mingi didn’t stay, and for the first time, Y/N found herself thinking about him long after he’d left.

By the end of the second week, Y/N finally gave in. As she walked out of school with Chloe, she spotted Mingi leaning against the gate, his usual grin in place.

“What now?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

Mingi held up his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, I’m not here to bother you. Just thought I’d ask if you want to grab some dinner or something. It’s been a couple of weeks, and I’d say we’ve made progress, don’t you think?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, trying to hide the fact that she was intrigued. “What are you really trying to do, Mingi?”

He shrugged, looking completely at ease. “I’m just trying to get you to see that I’m not like the other guys. Not everyone’s out for something. I just thought maybe you’d give me a chance to prove that.”

Y/N glanced at Chloe, who was quietly watching the interaction with a knowing look in her eyes. Chloe leaned in slightly, whispering just loud enough for Y/N to hear, “You know, he’s been trying. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to give him a shot.”

Y/N hesitated. She hadn’t expected Mingi to be this persistent, or this… genuine, in his own way. The truth was, a part of her was curious.

“Fine,” she said after a long pause. “But only because you’ve been so obnoxious about it for two weeks.”

Mingi’s grin widened. “Deal. I’ll pick you up at six.”

As Y/N walked away with Chloe, she couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of excitement and reluctance. This could end up being one big mistake or maybe, just maybe, it was the start of something unexpected.

That evening, Mingi pulled up to Y/N’s house in his car, his heart beating a little faster than usual. He wasn’t used to feeling this nervous, but this wasn’t like the other dates he’d been on. This wasn’t some game at least, not anymore. He had to prove he was serious.

When Y/N stepped outside, dressed casually but effortlessly put-together, Mingi’s breath caught in his throat. She was different from anyone he’d ever had to chase, and for the first time, he felt unsure of himself.

“Hey,” she said as she slid into the passenger seat, offering a small but genuine smile.

“Hey,” Mingi replied, his voice uncharacteristically softer than usual. “You look great.”

“Thanks,” Y/N responded with a slight shrug, settling into the seat. “I’m just hoping this dinner isn’t going to be some disaster.”

Mingi laughed, trying to ease the tension in the air. “I promise it’s not a setup for some awful prank.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” she said dryly, glancing over at him. “I just don’t know why you keep insisting on hanging out. You’ve been pretty persistent.”

“Well,” Mingi said as he started the car, “maybe I like a challenge. And maybe I think you’re… worth the effort.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond. She was still guarded, and Mingi could feel the distance between them, though he was determined to close it.

They arrived at a cozy little café a few minutes later, a place far away from the prying eyes of their schoolmates. It was quiet, with dim lighting and a peaceful atmosphere nothing like the bustling hangout spots Mingi usually frequented.

As they walked inside, Mingi held the door open for her, and they took a seat at a small corner booth. He could feel her watching him, studying him, as if she was waiting for him to slip up.

“So, what made you choose this place?” Y/N asked, looking around the café with a slight tilt of her head.

“I thought you might like something… low-key,” Mingi said, leaning back in his seat. “I’m not all about loud clubs and parties. Sometimes I want a little peace and quiet too.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by his honesty. “Huh. Guess I didn’t expect that from you.”

“I guess that’s the point,” he said with a slight smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”

They fell into an easy silence as the waitress came to take their orders. Once she left, Y/N leaned forward slightly, her curiosity piqued.

“So, what’s the deal with you, Mingi? You’re like… the guy everyone knows but no one really knows, you know?”

Mingi paused, the question catching him off guard. For a moment, he wondered if this was just a roundabout way of asking about his past relationships.

“I guess I’m just… living in the moment,” he said after a beat, looking down at his hands. “Not really thinking too much about the future.”

Y/N watched him carefully. “And do you ever think about the future? Or is it just one person after another?”

Mingi looked up at her, his expression slightly more serious than before. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “Maybe I’ve been trying to keep things light because I’m not sure how to handle real feelings. I know it’s easier to just keep moving than to deal with the mess that is emotions.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by his vulnerability. She had expected him to brush it off, but there he was, opening up to her in a way she hadn’t anticipated.

“I get that,” she said softly. “Sometimes it’s easier to stay detached. But eventually, that catches up with you, right?”

Mingi nodded slowly. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

They sat in silence for a few moments, letting the conversation settle before their food arrived. Mingi tried to keep the mood light as they ate, cracking jokes here and there, but he noticed Y/N’s walls slowly coming down. She was still guarded, but she wasn’t shutting him out as much as she had before.

After a while, Y/N looked at him with a small smile. “You know, I didn’t think I’d actually have a good time tonight.”

Mingi’s heart skipped a beat. “So, does this mean I’ve earned a little bit of your trust?”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Maybe. You’ve been surprising me, Mingi. I didn’t think you could actually have a conversation without it feeling like some game.”

“Well, I can be serious when I want to be,” Mingi said, leaning in slightly. “And I’m starting to think I might want to be serious with you.”

Y/N stared at him, her eyes searching his face for any signs of his usual arrogance or playboy charm. But all she saw was sincerity, and for the first time, she allowed herself to soften.

“Okay,” she said after a long pause, her voice quieter now. “I’ll admit, I didn’t expect this from you. But… I’m still not convinced this is all real.”

Mingi reached across the table, gently brushing his fingers against hers. “Give me a chance to prove it.”

Y/N looked down at their hands, the gesture surprisingly gentle. She had always thought of Mingi as someone who only cared about getting what he wanted, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, looking back up at him. “But you’re not getting off that easy.”

Mingi grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

As they finished their meal, the air between them had shifted. It was no longer about playing games or pretending. For the first time, they were both being honest with each other and that felt like the beginning of something real.

Two weeks had passed since Mingi’s dinner with Y/N, and things were… different. A lot had changed, but not in the way he’d expected. Sure, he was still pursuing her, but now it wasn’t just about winning the bet. There was something more to it, something that made his usual confidence feel more like a subtle uncertainty. He’d actually begun to care about what Y/N thought.

But tonight, Mingi sat with San and Hongjoong, the two of them eagerly waiting to hear about his progress. It was time to talk about the bet.

“So, how’s it going, bro?” Hongjoong asked, a teasing glint in his eye. “You sure you’ve got this in the bag?”

Mingi leaned back in his chair, his usual cocky smile making a reappearance. “Oh, yeah. It’s going smoothly. She’s softening up. She’s definitely starting to like meprobably more than she realizes.”

San raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re sure? You’re not, like, falling for her or anything, right? Because I remember you saying it was just a bet.”

Mingi paused at San’s words, a strange discomfort settling in his chest. He quickly shook it off. “Nah, I’m not falling for her. It’s all part of the plan. She’s just… getting used to me. And I’m playing it smart. It’s not like I’m putting all my eggs in one basket.”

Hongjoong leaned in, smirking. “You’re starting to sound a little defensive. You sure you’re not starting to care?”

Mingi’s gaze flickered for a moment, his thoughts betraying him. He quickly cleared his throat and forced a laugh. “Nah, you guys know I’m all about winning. I just like to keep things interesting, you know?”

San and Hongjoong exchanged a look, both silently processing what they’d just heard.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Hongjoong asked, eager to hear what Mingi would do next.

Mingi grinned, tapping his fingers on the table. “Next step? I’m taking her out again this weekend. I’ve been keeping things casual no pressure, just a little fun. She’s definitely starting to let her guard down. The more time I spend with her, the more she opens up.”

San leaned back, looking skeptical. “Just be careful, Mingi. You’re playing a dangerous game. You can’t mess around with someone like Y/N for too long without catching feelings.”

Mingi’s eyes narrowed. “I told you, I’m not falling for her. I’ve got this under control. Just watch.”

Hongjoong gave a knowing smile. “Well, if you say so. But don’t forget, a bet’s a bet. You better be careful not to get too caught up in the process. You’ll end up playing yourself.”

Mingi grinned, though it was a little more strained than usual. “Nah, trust me. I know what I’m doing. This is just a game, and I’m always winning.”

Over the next few days, Mingi’s interactions with Y/N grew increasingly familiar. They started talking more, spending time together in and out of school sometimes at the café, sometimes just hanging out at the park. Every conversation felt easier, more comfortable. And yet, with each passing day, Mingi found himself questioning how much of it was part of the plan and how much was because he genuinely wanted to be around her.

As much as he told himself he was just playing the game, there was something about the way Y/N smiled when they talked, the way her eyes softened when she spoke to him, that made his heart beat a little faster. And for the first time, Mingi wasn’t sure if he was winning the bet or if he was just losing himself in the process.

But for now, he pushed those thoughts aside. The bet was still on. And in his mind, winning was all that mattered.

It had been one month and two weeks since Mingi and Y/N started hanging out, and the connection between them had evolved in ways neither of them expected. Their usual banter was still there, but now it was accompanied by something deeper something unspoken but undeniable.

This time, Mingi had invited Y/N to a cherry blossom field, the perfect place for a quiet afternoon picnic away from the noise of school and the eyes of others. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the sea of pink petals that surrounded them. The air smelled fresh, and the gentle breeze made the blossoms sway, scattering petals like confetti around them.

They were seated on a blanket, surrounded by sandwiches, fruit, and iced tea, but neither of them were really paying attention to the food. Instead, they were lost in conversation genuine, easy, and comfortable in a way neither of them had anticipated.

“So, tell me,” Y/N said, a playful glint in her eyes, “what’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever done to impress someone?”

Mingi laughed, leaning back on his hands. “Oh, that’s a long list. Probably the time I spent a ridiculous amount of money on a concert ticket just to impress some girl who didn’t even end up going.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Lesson learned don’t try too hard.”

Y/N smirked. “Seems like you’ve learned a few things the hard way, huh?”

Mingi grinned, his eyes locking with hers for a brief moment. “Yeah, but I think that’s how you get better at this whole… ‘life’ thing.”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics favorite books, weird childhood stories, random facts they’d both learned. Each topic was a little more personal, a little more revealing. Y/N found herself laughing more than she had in a while, and Mingi couldn’t help but admire the way she smiled, the way she made everything feel so natural.

At some point, the chatter died down, and they both sat in a comfortable silence, watching the petals float through the air. The sun was setting now, casting a soft glow over everything, and the world felt as if it had slowed down just for them.

Without realizing it, they had shifted closer to each other on the blanket. Y/N was now sitting with her legs crossed, facing Mingi, their knees almost touching. The closeness felt different from anything they had shared before, and for a brief moment, Mingi’s heart raced in a way it never had during their hangouts. He had spent so much time trying to impress her, trying to win her over, but now, in this quiet, peaceful space, he realized he didn’t need to do anything.

Y/N, too, noticed the change in the air between them. Her pulse quickened as she met his gaze, the space between them closing slowly, almost naturally. For a moment, she thought about pulling away, about asking if this was a bad idea but something in Mingi’s eyes told her he was just as unsure, just as tentative.

Then, without thinking, she reached out, gently brushing her hand against his. It was a subtle gesture, but the impact was immediate. Mingi’s breath hitched, his gaze dropping to where their hands were connected, and then slowly, he met her eyes again.

The world seemed to blur around them, the noise of everything else fading away. It was just the two of them, the cherry blossoms, and the beating of their hearts.

Mingi leaned in first, drawn by something he couldn’t name, something that had been building between them for weeks. Y/N’s breath caught as their faces grew closer, the tension thickening. There was no going back now.

And then, without a word, their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was slow at first, gentle, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile moment they had created. Mingi’s hand moved to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss just slightly, testing the waters.

Y/N responded in kind, her hand moving to his chest as the kiss grew more urgent, more needy. Her heart raced as the feeling of Mingi’s lips on hers felt so right, so real, and yet so unexpected.

When they finally pulled away, they were both breathless, their foreheads resting against each other, eyes closed as they tried to collect themselves.

“I didn’t plan on that,” Y/N whispered, her voice shaking slightly, the words feeling like an admission of something she hadn’t fully realized until now.

Mingi’s lips quirked into a small, soft smile, his thumb still brushing her cheek. “Me neither,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The moment felt too precious, too delicate to break with words. They were still so close, the space between them charged with something neither of them could deny anymore.

“I think I should take you out more often,” Mingi said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N chuckled, though it was a little nervous, her heart still pounding in her chest. “Yeah, I think you should.”

And for the first time, there were no games, no pretense. Only the two of them, surrounded by the quiet beauty of the cherry blossoms, and a kiss that neither of them would ever forget.

After the kiss, the world around them felt suspended in time. Neither of them rushed to speak, neither of them pulled away. Instead, they simply existed in the moment, their breaths steady and soft as they let the stillness of the cherry blossom field surround them.

Y/N shifted slightly, tilting her head until it gently rested against Mingi’s shoulder. He tensed for a brief second, but then, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he relaxed and let her settle closer to him. Her hair was soft against his arm, and for a moment, the world seemed to be just the two of them, a peaceful calm settling over them both.

The sun hung low in the sky, its warm golden light casting a soft glow over the field. The cherry blossoms swayed in the breeze, their petals drifting lazily to the ground, like a slow, natural dance. The sound of distant birds and the rustling of leaves in the wind filled the silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that spoke volumes, that told them everything didn’t have to be said out loud to feel real.

Mingi glanced down at Y/N, her eyes closed as she leaned against him, her face soft and peaceful. He felt something stir inside him something that wasn’t just the thrill of the bet or the challenge anymore. He couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, but there was a warmth in his chest that made him want to protect this moment, to keep it frozen in time.

For a while, they just watched the sunset together, neither of them feeling the need to fill the silence with words. The sky had turned from soft orange to pink, and then to a deep purple as the sun slowly sank below the horizon. It was beautiful quiet, simple, and perfect in a way that neither of them had anticipated.

“This is nice,” Y/N murmured, breaking the stillness just enough for Mingi to hear her. Her voice was soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb the peace they’d found.

Mingi smiled, his gaze still on the sunset. “Yeah, it is.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I’m glad you came with me today.”

Y/N smiled to herself, not opening her eyes, but feeling the sincerity in his words. “I’m glad I came too.”

They fell silent again, the gentle evening breeze wrapping around them, the air cool but not uncomfortable. As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon, Mingi couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of contentment.

For so long, he’d lived his life in motion, always chasing the next thing, the next thrill, the next conquest. But here, with Y/N’s head on his shoulder and the world quietly fading into night, he felt… at peace.

And for once, he didn’t feel the need to chase anything.

“I think I could get used to this,” Mingi said quietly, his words almost to himself, but loud enough for Y/N to hear.

Y/N’s lips curved into a soft smile, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Me too.”

The night stretched on, but neither of them moved. They stayed there, watching the sky turn darker, the stars beginning to appear, their breaths in sync. And for the first time in a long time, Mingi didn’t feel the pressure of the bet, the weight of the game he was playing. He just felt… here. With her.

And in that moment, that was enough.

The next day at school, Mingi leaned casually against the lockers, a smug grin spread across his face as he recounted the events of the previous evening to San and Hongjoong. The hallway was busy with students heading to class, the usual noise and chatter filling the air, but Mingi’s voice carried just enough to be heard over the commotion.

“And then, we kissed,” Mingi said, his tone confident. “I told you guys I’d get her to fall for me. She’s hooked now. Guess that means I win the bet.”

San raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Damn, so you really pulled it off, huh?”

Hongjoong nodded, crossing his arms. “Didn’t think you’d make it, honestly. Two months is a long time to stay focused on one girl.”

Mingi shrugged, trying to play it cool, though there was a flicker of something uneasy in his chest. “What can I say? I’m just that good.”

Unbeknownst to them, Y/N had stopped just around the corner, her heart sinking as she heard every word. She had been on her way to meet Chloe, but the sound of Mingi’s voice caught her attention, and curiosity had gotten the better of her. Now, she wished she hadn’t listened.

Her chest tightened, and her throat felt dry as the reality of what she was hearing hit her like a ton of bricks. The past few weeks the laughter, the conversations, the kiss under the cherry blossoms it had all been part of a game. A bet.

Her hands clenched into fists as she stepped out from behind the wall.

the corner, her eyes burning with unshed tears. The hallway noise seemed to dull around her, and all she could focus on was Mingi’s smug expression as he laughed with his friends.

“Really?” Y/N’s voice rang out, sharp and trembling with hurt.

Mingi froze mid laugh, his eyes snapping to her. The color drained from his face as he realized she’d heard everything. “Y/N…”

San and Hongjoong exchanged uneasy glances, both taking a cautious step back as Y/N approached. Her gaze was icy, a mix of betrayal and anger swirling in her eyes.

“So, this was all just a bet?” Y/N’s voice cracked slightly, but she didn’t falter. “Everything the texts, the hangouts, the cherry blossom field it was all just some stupid game to you?”

Mingi opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He felt like the air had been knocked out of him.

“I can’t believe I actually thought you were different,” Y/N continued, her voice growing louder. “I thought you’d changed, that maybe you actually cared about me. But I was wrong.”

“Wait, Y/N, let me explain—” Mingi started, stepping toward her, but she shook her head, cutting him off.

“Explain what?” she snapped, her voice trembling with emotion. “That you tricked me? That you pretended to like me just so you could win a bet? There’s nothing to explain, Mingi. I get it now.”

The hallway had grown quieter, students slowing down to watch the scene unfold. Y/N’s chest heaved as she tried to keep her composure, but the tears she’d been holding back finally spilled over.

Mingi’s heart sank as he saw the pain in her eyes. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Somewhere along the way, he had stopped thinking about the bet. Somewhere along the way, he had started to care about her really care.

“Y/N, it’s not like that,” Mingi said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I—”

“It’s exactly like that,” Y/N interrupted, her voice breaking. “You lied to me, Mingi. You made me believe you actually cared, but you don’t. You never did.”

She turned on her heel, storming away before he could say another word. Mingi reached out instinctively, but San grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“Let her go, man,” San said quietly.

Mingi stood there, frozen, watching Y/N disappear down the hallway. The weight of what had just happened hit him like a punch to the gut. He had hurt her badly. And for what? A stupid bet?

Hongjoong let out a low whistle, breaking the tense silence. “Well, that just blew up in your face.”

Mingi shot him a glare but didn’t say anything. His mind was racing, replaying every moment he’d spent with Y/N over the past few weeks. The sound of her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the feeling of her head resting on his shoulder under the cherry blossoms.

He didn’t just like her. He was in love with her. And now, because of his own stupidity, he’d ruined everything.

“What are you gonna do now?” San asked, his voice low, almost cautious.

Mingi ran a hand through his hair, frustration and regret etched across his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “But I have to fix this. Somehow.”

For the first time in his life, Mingi wasn’t thinking about winning. He wasn’t thinking about the bet, or his pride, or his reputation. All he could think about was Y/N and how he might have lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Y/N sat on her bed that evening, staring blankly at the wall. Her chest felt heavy, her mind replaying Mingi’s words from earlier that day like a broken record. “I told you guys I’d get her to fall for me. She’s hooked now. Guess that means I win the bet.”

Her stomach churned every time she thought about it. How could she have been so naive? So foolish to think someone like Mingi could genuinely care for her? All those moments they shared, the laughs, the kiss it was all fake. A game to him.

Tears slid down her cheeks, hot and relentless. She thought back to the way Mingi had looked at her yesterday in the cherry blossom field, the way he smiled, the softness in his voice. It all felt so real. But it wasn’t. It was a lie.

A soft knock on her bedroom door pulled her from her thoughts. Chloe stepped in, her expression cautious as she held a tray with tea and cookies. “Hey,” she said gently, setting the tray on Y/N’s nightstand. “I thought you might need this.”

Y/N gave her a weak smile, wiping her face. “Thanks.”

Chloe sat beside her, her tone careful. “You don’t have to talk about it, but… I’m here if you need me.”

For a moment, Y/N didn’t respond. Then, her voice came out in a whisper. “I really thought he cared, Chloe. I thought he was different.”

Chloe’s jaw tightened. “Mingi’s an idiot,” she said firmly. “And if he thinks he can just waltz back in and fix this, he’s got another thing coming.”

Y/N nodded, her resolve hardening. She wasn’t going to let him hurt her again.

The next day at school, Mingi tried to approach her, but Y/N ignored him completely. She walked past him in the hallway as if he didn’t exist. When he called out her name, she kept walking, refusing to even glance in his direction.

“Y/N, wait! Please, just hear me out!” Mingi pleaded, but she acted as though she couldn’t hear him.

This pattern continued for days. No matter where he tried to catch her in the hallways, at lunch, after class she refused to engage. Mingi’s usual confidence was nowhere to be found. His friends noticed it too.

“You look like a lost puppy,” San said one afternoon, watching Mingi slump into his seat.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think apologizing once was going to fix this? You humiliated her, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Mingi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know. I just… I didn’t think it’d be this hard to get her to listen to me.”

That evening, Mingi stood outside Y/N’s house with a bouquet of her favorite flowers in hand. He had been there every night since the incident, each time hoping she might open the door. But each time, she didn’t.

He knocked softly, his heart pounding in his chest. When the door opened, his hopes lifted only to see Chloe standing there, arms crossed, glaring at him.

“What do you want, Mingi?” she asked flatly.

“Is Y/N home?” he asked, his voice almost pleading. “I just want to talk to her. Please.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Chloe said firmly, stepping closer as if to block his view inside. “And honestly, can you blame her?”

Mingi’s shoulders slumped, but he didn’t leave. “I know I messed up,” he admitted. “I was an idiot, okay? But I… I care about her. More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I need her to know that.”

Chloe’s expression softened slightly, but she didn’t move. “She’s hurt, Mingi. You need to give her time.”

With that, she closed the door, leaving Mingi standing on the porch, clutching the flowers in defeat.

Days turned into weeks, but Mingi didn’t stop trying. Every day, he brought flowers to Y/N’s house. Every day, he tried to catch her at school. And every day, she ignored him.

One afternoon, as Y/N was walking home, she noticed Mingi waiting for her at the corner of her street. She sighed, her resolve starting to waver as she saw the flowers.

determination in his eyes. He looked tired, his usual confident demeanor replaced with something softer something more vulnerable. In his hands, he held yet another bouquet of flowers, slightly wilted from being carried around all day.

“Y/N,” Mingi called out gently, stepping toward her. “Please. Just give me five minutes.”

She stopped walking, crossing her arms as she stared at him, her gaze guarded. “Why? So you can feed me more lies?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice almost breaking. “I just… I need to explain. I know I don’t deserve for you to hear me out, but I’m begging you.”

Y/N hesitated. Part of her wanted to turn around and leave, to keep the walls she’d built intact. But another part of her the part that remembered the Mingi who sat with her under the cherry blossoms wanted to hear him out.

She sighed and finally said, “You have five minutes.”

Mingi’s shoulders sagged with relief as he stepped closer, careful not to overstep her boundaries. “Thank you,” he murmured. He took a deep breath, then began.

“When this all started, I was stupid. I thought it was just a game a challenge. I didn’t think about how it might hurt you because I wasn’t thinking at all. And I know that makes me a jerk, but somewhere along the way, everything changed.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, but she didn’t interrupt.

Mingi looked down at the flowers in his hands, his voice quieter now. “Spending time with you, getting to know you… it stopped being about the bet. I started looking forward to seeing you every day, hearing your voice, learning all the little things that make you… you.”

He met her eyes then, his own filled with an earnestness she hadn’t seen before. “I fell for you, Y/N. And not because of some stupid bet. I fell for you because you’re amazing. And I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I wanted you to know the truth. I’m not that guy anymore. Not because I decided to change, but because you made me want to be better.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the raw honesty in his voice. But the hurt was still there, lingering like a shadow over everything.

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “How do I know this isn’t just another part of your game?”

Mingi took a step closer, holding out the flowers to her. “Because I’m still here. I’ve been here every day, trying to fix what I broke. I don’t care about the bet, Y/N. I care about you. And I’ll keep proving it, no matter how long it takes.”

For a long moment, Y/N just looked at him, her emotions warring inside her. She wanted to trust him, to believe that he had changed, but the fear of being hurt again held her back.

Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need time, Mingi. I don’t know if I can forgive you yet.”

Mingi nodded, a small, sad smile on his face. “I understand. Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

He handed her the flowers, and for the first time in weeks, Y/N accepted them. She didn’t say anything else as she turned and walked away, but Mingi stood there, watching her until she disappeared into her house.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a sliver of hope. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him going.

That night, Y/N sat on her bed, the bouquet of flowers resting on her nightstand. She stared at them, the faint scent of roses filling the air. Her emotions were a tangled mess—anger, sadness, confusion, and something she didn’t want to admit: a lingering flicker of hope.

She wanted to hate Mingi, wanted to hold on to the pain he caused her. But the way he had looked at her today, the vulnerability in his voice, made her question everything. Was he really different? Had he truly fallen for her, or was it just another ploy?

She sighed, leaning back against her pillows. As much as she tried to push the thought away, the truth was clear: she still cared about him. But caring about him didn’t erase the hurt. It didn’t undo the betrayal.

Over the next few days, Mingi continued to prove his sincerity. He didn’t push her for more time or overwhelm her with grand gestures. Instead, he found small ways to show her he was still there.

When she walked into school one morning, she found a note tucked into her locker:

I’m sorry for everything. I’m not giving up on us, no matter how long it takes. – M

When she went to her favorite café with Chloe, the barista handed her a drink with a sticky note attached:

I saw you order this once. Thought you could use a pick me up. – M

Each little act chipped away at her defenses. She couldn’t ignore the effort he was putting in, but she also couldn’t let her guard down entirely. Not yet.

One evening, a week after their conversation, Y/N was sitting on the steps outside her house when she saw Mingi approaching. He wasn’t holding flowers this time, just his hands in his pockets and an uncertain look on his face.

“Hey,” he said softly, stopping a few feet away.

“Hey,” she replied, her tone cautious but not cold.

“Can I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the step beside her.

She hesitated, then nodded. “Sure.”

Mingi sat down, the silence between them heavy but not uncomfortable. He looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “I wanted to say something. Something I should have said a long time ago.”

Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. “What is it?”

He took a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I love you, Y/N. I know I’ve done everything to mess this up, and I don’t deserve you, but I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. I love you.”

Her breath hitched as his words sank in. She searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all she saw was raw, unfiltered truth.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything. Mingi’s heart pounded as he waited, the seconds feeling like hours.

Then, finally, she spoke. “I…” She paused, her eyes softening. “I love you too, Mingi.”

His eyes widened in surprise and relief, a smile breaking across his face. “You do?”

She nodded, a small smile of her own forming. “I do. But this doesn’t mean everything is fixed. I still need time to trust you again.”

Mingi reached for her hand, his touch gentle. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I promise.”

Y/N felt a glimmer of hope not just for Mingi, but for them.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N and Mingi slowly began to rebuild what had been broken. It wasn’t easy there were moments when doubt crept in, when Y/N’s walls went back up, or when Mingi questioned whether he could ever fully make up for his mistakes. But through it all, they found ways to meet in the middle.

Mingi was patient, careful not to push her too far. He started showing up for her in ways that felt genuine offering to walk her home from school, helping her carry her books, and being a constant presence in her life. When they talked, he listened, really listened, and Y/N found herself opening up to him in ways she hadn’t expected.

One afternoon, they found themselves at the park where they had shared their first kiss. The cherry blossoms were long gone, replaced by vibrant green leaves, but the memory lingered. They sat under the same tree, Mingi leaning against the trunk while Y/N stretched out on the grass beside him.

“You know,” she said, twirling a blade of grass between her fingers, “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you without feeling angry.”

Mingi turned to her, his expression soft. “And now?”

“Now,” she said, glancing at him with a small smile, “I’m starting to feel like I can trust you again.”

He smiled, relief washing over him. “That means more to me than you know.”

Days turned into weeks, and their connection only grew stronger. Mingi wasn’t just a part of her life now he was a constant. They studied together, laughed together, and even shared secrets under the stars.

One evening, after a particularly long day of classes, Mingi and Y/N found themselves at her favorite café. The place was quiet, the soft hum of conversation filling the air as they sat by the window.

Y/N was sipping her drink when she noticed Mingi fidgeting. He kept glancing at her, then at his hands, like he was trying to muster the courage to say something.

“What’s up with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mingi chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I, uh… I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Okay…” she prompted, leaning forward slightly.

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers. “I know I’ve said this before, but I need you to know how much you mean to me. These past few weeks, rebuilding things with you it’s been everything to me. You’re everything to me, Y/N.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked down at her drink, a smile tugging at her lips. “Mingi…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I’ve spent so much of my life running from things, from feelings, from anything real. But with you… I don’t want to run anymore. I want to be better, not just for you but for myself too. And I want to do it with you by my side.”

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. She hadn’t expected this not now, not tonight but as she looked into his eyes, she saw the sincerity, the hope, and the love he had for her.

“Yes,” she said softly, her smile widening. “I’ll be your girlfriend.”

Mingi’s face lit up, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “You won’t regret it,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

“I know I won’t,” Y/N replied, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like everything was exactly as it should be.

The next day at school, Mingi couldn’t stop smiling. His usual confident swagger was there, but it felt different now lighter, more genuine. His friends, San and Hongjoong, were quick to notice as they sat at their usual spot on the bleachers during lunch.

“You’re practically glowing,” San teased, nudging Mingi with his elbow. “What’s going on? Did Y/N finally agree to hang out with you again or something?”

Mingi grinned, unable to hold it in any longer. “Actually… she said yes.”

Hongjoong furrowed his brow. “Yes to what?”

“To being my girlfriend,” Mingi said, his smile growing even wider.

San’s jaw dropped, and Hongjoong let out a low whistle. “No way,” San said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re telling me Y/N the girl who doesn’t give anyone the time of day actually agreed to date you?”

“Yep,” Mingi said, leaning back with a satisfied look. “And I didn’t even have to bribe her or anything.”

Hongjoong laughed, clapping him on the back. “Well, I’ll admit, I didn’t think you had it in you. But I’ve got to say, I’m happy for you, man. You’ve been different lately. Better.”

San nodded, his expression turning more serious. “Yeah, for real. I mean, I know we teased you a lot, but I can tell you actually care about her. Don’t mess this up.”

“I won’t,” Mingi promised, his tone firm. “She means too much to me.”

Meanwhile, Y/N was sitting with Chloe in their favorite spot in the courtyard, sipping on iced tea and enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Chloe had been unusually quiet, and Y/N finally spoke up.

“Okay, spill it. I know you have something to say,” Y/N said, setting her drink down and giving Chloe a pointed look.

Chloe sighed, leaning back against the bench. “I just… I’m happy for you, Y/N. Really, I am. I’ve never seen you this happy before.”

“But?” Y/N prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“But,” Chloe continued, “I also know how much you’ve been hurt before. I just want to make sure you’re being careful. Mingi’s great and all, but he’s… well, he’s Mingi. You know what I mean.”

Y/N nodded, her smile softening. “I know. And trust me, I’ve thought about it. But he’s been different lately, Chloe. He’s really trying, and I can see it. I’m not saying I’m throwing caution to the wind, but… I think he’s worth taking a chance on.”

Chloe studied her for a moment, then smiled. “Okay. If you believe in him, then I’ll believe in him too. Just know I’ve got your back if he ever messes up.”

“I know,” Y/N said with a laugh, reaching out to squeeze her friend’s hand. “Thanks, Chloe. That means a lot.”

“And for the record,” Chloe added with a smirk, “I never thought I’d see the day where you started dating someone. Mingi must be some kind of miracle worker.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “Yeah, well, he’s definitely something.”

Over the next few weeks, Mingi and Y/N’s relationship blossomed. They spent every spare moment together, from quiet study sessions in the library to playful banter during lunch. Y/N found herself smiling more than ever, and Mingi’s friends could see how much she had softened him.

Even Chloe, who had been skeptical at first, started warming up to the idea of them being together. She’d catch glimpses of how Mingi looked at Y/N when he thought no one else was watching like she was the only thing that mattered in the world and it was hard not to root for them.

It had been a couple of months since Y/N and Mingi officially started dating, and everything was going better than Y/N could have imagined. He had proven himself over and over again not just to her, but to Chloe, her family, and even his own friends. Mingi’s playful charm had melted into something deeper and more genuine, and Y/N couldn’t deny how much she’d come to trust him.

Tonight, they were at his house. The usual sounds of his family bustling around were absent, and the house felt unusually quiet. Mingi’s mom had gone out for the evening, leaving the two of them alone.

In his room, they were sprawled across his bed, a bowl of popcorn between them as a movie played on the screen. The soft glow of fairy lights he’d strung up around his room gave the space a cozy warmth.

Y/N popped a piece of popcorn into her mouth, giggling as a particularly ridiculous scene unfolded on the screen. “Okay, this might be the worst movie you’ve ever made me watch,” she said, glancing over at him.

Mingi grinned, leaning back against the headboard. “Excuse me, this is a cult classic,” he said, feigning offense. “You just don’t appreciate the art of bad action movies.”

“Oh, I appreciate it, all right,” she teased. “I just don’t know why the hero needs to somersault every five seconds.”

“It’s called flair,” Mingi shot back, tossing a piece of popcorn at her.

Y/N laughed, dodging it easily. “Flair, my foot. It’s ridiculous, and you know it.”

He smirked, setting the bowl of popcorn aside and turning to face her fully. “Ridiculous? You want to talk about ridiculous? You’re the one who cried during that cartoon about a dog the other day.”

Her mouth fell open in mock outrage. “That was emotional, and you know it!”

Mingi chuckled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the movie playing in the background forgotten. Mingi reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re really cute when you’re all worked up, you know that?”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat under his gaze. “Stop,” she said with a shy smile, swatting at his arm.

“I’m serious,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re… amazing, Y/N.”

The sincerity in his tone made her heart skip a beat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes, and saw nothing but warmth and affection.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Mingi,” she replied softly.

He smiled, leaning closer, his hand resting gently on her cheek. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she nodded, her heart racing. “Yeah,” she whispered back.

Mingi closed the gap between them, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that was slow and sweet, filled with all the emotions neither of them could put into words.

When they pulled apart, Y/N rested her forehead against his, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re really good at this, you know.”

“Good at what?” he asked, his own smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Making me fall for you,” she said softly.

Mingi’s heart swelled at her words, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as the movie continued in the background.

In that moment, nothing else mattered just the two of them, wrapped up in each other, as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

As the movie droned on in the background, neither of them paid it any attention anymore. Mingi’s fingers absentmindedly traced patterns along Y/N’s arm, and she found herself leaning into his touch. Their faces were close again, and it wasn’t long before his lips found hers once more, the kiss deeper this time, more deliberate.

Her hands slid up to his shoulders, gripping his shirt lightly as he shifted closer. The bowl of popcorn tumbled onto the floor, but neither of them noticed. All that mattered in that moment was each other.

Mingi pulled away just enough to catch his breath, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes searched her face, as if asking for silent permission to take things a step further. When she gave a slight nod, he leaned back in, capturing her lips again.

This time, the kiss grew more intense, and before Y/N knew it, she was on her back, Mingi hovering over her. His hands braced on either side of her, keeping his weight off her, but the closeness between them was undeniable.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and full of emotion.

Her heart raced as she looked up at him, her hands finding their way to his hair. She tugged him back down for another kiss, and he didn’t hesitate to oblige, leaning in fully now as the space between them disappeared completely.

Mingi’s kisses deepened, his lips moving from hers to her jawline and down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. Y/N shivered beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair as his touch became bolder. His fingertips trailed lightly down her sides, sending a wave of warmth through her.

“Tell me if I should stop,” he whispered, his voice husky and filled with sincerity.

Y/N shook her head slightly, her breath hitching as his lips moved lower. “Don’t stop,” she murmured, her voice barely audible but filled with certainty.

Taking her response as reassurance, Mingi’s hands began to explore more freely, gliding over the curves of her body with a tenderness that made her heart race. His lips found hers again, the kiss slow but filled with an unspoken intensity.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, brushing against her skin, and he paused, looking into her eyes for any sign of hesitation. When she nodded, he continued, his hands lifting the fabric slowly, giving her time to adjust with each inch.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his forehead resting against hers as he gently pulled the shirt over her head, his gaze filled with awe and affection.

Mingi then fully pulled her shirt over her head and threw it onto the ground before, unbuckling her bra and tossing that to the ground as well.

Mingi hovered over Y/N, his hands planted on either side of her head as he looked down at her. He took a moment to admire the sight of her beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath.

He leaned down, capturing one of her nipples between his lips. He swirled his tongue around the sensitive bud, eliciting a soft moan from her.

He could feel her body responding to his touch, her back arching off the bed as she pressed herself closer to him. He smiled against her skin, his free hand moving to the other breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

Y/N writhed beneath him, her body writhing with pleasure as he teased her nipples. She let out a series of soft gasps and moans, her hands tangling in his hair as she clung to him.

"Mingi..." she breathed, her voice laced with need. "Please..."

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire as he looked at her. "Please what, princess?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"I need you," she whimpered, her hips bucking up against him. "I need you to touch me."

Mingi chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Oh, I will, princess," he said, his hand trailing down her body. "But I'm going to take my time with you. I want to make you beg for it."

He continued to tease her, his lips and hands exploring every inch of her body. He knew all the spots that made her shiver and gasp, and he used that knowledge to his advantage.

He kissed his way down her neck, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He nipped at her collarbone, his teeth scraping against her skin.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured against her skin. "All spread out for me, desperate for my touch."

Mingi moved lower, his lips and tongue tracing a path down her stomach. He paused at the waistband of her panties, his fingers hooking under the fabric.

He looked up at her, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Lift your hips for me, princess," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

Y/N obeyed, lifting her hips off the bed as he pulled her panties down, exposing her to him completely. He settled between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her in place.

Mingi gazed at her for a moment, taking in the sight of her spread out before him. She was a vision of beauty, her skin flushed and her eyes dark with desire.

He lowered his head, his breath hot against her center. He pressed a soft kiss to her inner thigh, his lips trailing closer and closer to where she needed him most.

He could smell her arousal, could see the evidence of her desire glistening on her skin. He teased her with his fingers, lightly brushing against her folds before withdrawing.

Mingi finally gave in to her need, his tongue darting out to lick a slow stripe up her slit. She cried out, her body arching off the bed at the sensation.

He chuckled against her, the sound vibrating through her body. He lapped at her, his tongue exploring every inch of her folds with a skillful precision.

He found her clit, flicking his tongue against it in a steady rhythm that had her moaning and writhing beneath him. He knew just how to push her buttons, how to drive her wild with pleasure.

Mingi alternated between sucking and licking her clit, his hands holding her hips in place as he worked. He could feel her getting closer to the edge, her thighs trembling around his head.

He looked up at her, his eyes locking onto hers as he continued to devour her. He loved watching her come undone, loved seeing the look of pure ecstasy on her face.

He pushed two fingers inside her, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside her.

Mingi continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, his tongue never leaving her clit. He could feel her walls fluttering around his fingers, a sure sign that she was close.

He quickened his pace, his fingers moving faster and harder as he brought her closer to her release. He knew she was on the brink, could feel her body tensing up beneath him.

Mingi doubled his efforts, his fingers and tongue working in tandem to push her over the edge. He sucked hard on her clit, his free hand moving to pinch her nipple.

Y/N cried out, her body shaking with pleasure. She was completely lost in the sensations, unable to form coherent words as she neared her peak.

Her moans grew louder, a mix of curses and pleas falling from her lips. She could feel the heat building low in her belly, her muscles tightening with each thrust of his fingers.

Mingi could feel her getting tighter around his fingers, her walls clenching desperately as she approached her orgasm. He knew she was right on the edge, knew that all it would take was one final push to send her over.

He curled his fingers inside her, hitting that sweet spot with unerring accuracy. At the same time, he bit down on her clit, a sharp jolt of pain that sent her hurtling into ecstasy.

Y/N screamed his name as she came, “ah mingi~” her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. She writhed beneath him, her walls spasming around his fingers as he worked her through her orgasm.

Mingi pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal. He sat back on his heels, his eyes raking over her flushed and trembling body.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied smirk on his face. "You taste so good, princess," he said, his voice low and husky.

He reached down, pulling off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, already hard and straining for release.

He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes fixed on her. "Come here," he said, beckoning her towards him.

Y/N crawled over to him, her body still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. She settled between his legs, her eyes fixed on his hard cock.

She looked up at him, her gaze filled with a mixture of desire and submission.

Mingi smirked, his fingers threading through her hair as he guided her closer to his cock. "Open your mouth, princess," he commanded, his voice firm but gentle.

Y/N obeyed, her lips parting as she looked up at him. She knew what he wanted, knew exactly how to please him.

He guided her head down, his cock sliding past her lips and into her warm, wet mouth. He let out a low groan, his grip on her hair tightening slightly.

Mingi's grip on her hair tightened as she took him deeper into her mouth. He groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as pleasure coursed through his body.

"Fuck, princess," he growled, his hips bucking up slightly. "Your mouth feels so good."

Y/N gagged as he hit the back of her throat, but she didn't pull back. She looked up at him through watery eyes, her hands bracing herself against his thighs.

Mingi could feel her throat constricting around him, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. He tightened his grip on her hair, using it to guide her movements as he pushed her head down further.

Y/N gagged again, her throat convulsing around Mingi's cock. The sensation was almost too much for him, the tight, wet heat of her mouth driving him wild.

He loved watching her struggle to take him, loved seeing the way her eyes watered and her cheeks hollowed out as she tried to breathe around him.

"You're doing so well, princess," he murmured, his voice strained. "Taking my cock so deep in your throat like a good girl."

Mingi continued to guide her head up and down his length, his hips moving in time with her movements. He could feel his orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in his gut.

He looked down at her, taking in the sight of her kneeling between his legs, her lips stretched around his cock. She looked so beautiful like this, so completely submissive and willing to please him.

He tightened his grip on her hair again, pushing her head down further than before. "I'm close, princess," he grunted, his voice rough with need.

Y/N pulled back slightly, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mingi's cock. She lapped at the sensitive head, swirling her tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles.

Mingi groaned, his eyes fluttering shut as pleasure shot through him. "Just like that, princess," he panted, his fingers tightening in her hair.

He could feel his release building, the tension in his body reaching its peak. He bucked his hips up, his cock hitting the back of her throat once more.

"I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. "Swallow it all, princess. Be a good girl for me."

Y/N continued to suck and lick him, her movements becoming more desperate as she sensed his impending orgasm. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and obedience.

Mingi's body tensed, his muscles coiling tightly as he reached the edge. He let out a strangled cry, his hips jerking as he spilled himself into her mouth.

Y/N swallowed obediently, taking every drop of his cum without hesitation. She continued to suckle at his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

Mingi groaned, his head falling back against the headboard as he came down from his high. "Good girl," he panted, his fingers loosening their grip on her hair. "Such a good girl for me."

Mingi took a moment to catch his breath, his chest heaving as he looked down at Y/N.

He reached out, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. "Lay down on your stomach, princess," he said, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes, sir," Y/N replied, her voice soft and obedient.

She did as she was told, rolling onto her stomach and pillowing her head on her arms. She felt vulnerable in this position, exposed and at his mercy.

Mingi moved behind her, his hands trailing over her back and down to her hips. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock resting against her entrance.

Mingi ran his hands over her ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he admired her body. He loved the way she looked like this, spread out beneath him and completely at his mercy.

He teased her with the tip of his cock, running it up and down her folds without actually entering her. He could feel her growing wetter with each pass, her body aching for him to fill her.

Mingi leaned over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a pair of handcuffs. He held them up for Y/N to see, a smirk on his face.

"You know what these are for, princess?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly, her heart rate picking up at the sight of the handcuffs. She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir."

Mingi fastened the handcuffs around her wrists, securing them tightly so that she was effectively bound and at his mercy.

He ran his hands up her arms, his fingers tracing the smooth skin of her back. "You look so good like this, princess," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "Helpless and restrained, all mine to do with as I please."

Mingi grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head back roughly. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he spoke.

“Such a good little slut for me," he growled, his grip on her hair tightening. "You're mine to use and abuse, aren't you?"

Y/N moaned, her body arching into his touch as he spoke. "Yes, Daddy," she gasped, her voice filled with need. "I'm all yours, to do whatever you want."

Mingi chuckled, his hand still tangled in her hair as he leaned back. He admired the sight of her bound and submissive beneath him, her body trembling with anticipation.

"That's right, princess," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You belong to me, and I'm going to use you however I see fit."

He shifted his position, positioning himself at her entrance. He teased her for a moment longer, rubbing the head of his cock against her folds before finally pushing inside.

Y/N moaned softly as he entered her, the feeling of being filled by him both pleasurable and overwhelming. She was completely at his mercy, her body and pleasure entirely in his control.

Mingi groaned, his grip on her hair tightening as he sank into her fully. "You're so tight, princess," he grunted, his hips moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

He leaned forward, his chest pressed against her back as he began to move inside her. He continued to pull her hair, forcing her head back at an uncomfortable angle.

"Look at you," he growled, his voice low and degrading. "Bound and helpless beneath me, taking my cock like the little good girl you are."

Y/N whimpered, her body writhing beneath him as he spoke. His words were like a drug, sending shivers of pleasure and shame coursing through her veins.

"P-Please," she gasped, her voice strained and stuttering. "Please, Daddy, harder."

Mingi chuckled darkly, his hips snapping forward with renewed force. "Such a needy little thing," he said, his voice laced with mockery. "Begging for more like the desperate little slut you are."

Mingi grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back so hard that it almost hurt. He pulled her up onto her knees, forcing her back to arch and her body to bend to his will.

"Is this what you want, princess?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear. "You want it rough and merciless, huh? You want me to use you like a toy?"

Y/N's eyes widened, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her as he pulled her hair. She could barely speak, her voice coming out in stutters and gasps.

"Y-yes, Daddy," she managed to gasp, her body trembling with need. "P-please, be rough with me. Use me however you want."

Mingi flipped her over, easily maneuvering her onto her back despite her bound wrists. He knelt between her legs, his eyes raking over her flushed and trembling body.

he thrust back into her.He wrapped his hand around her throat, his fingers pressing lightly against her skin.

"You look so beautiful like this, princess," he said, his voice rough with desire. "Helpless and at my mercy, completely under my control."

Mingi continued to pound into her, his hips snapping forward with each thrust. His hand around her throat tightened slightly, not enough to cut off her air but enough to send a thrill of danger coursing through her veins.

“You're mine, princess," he growled, his eyes locked on hers. "Your body, your pleasure, everything belongs to me. And I'm going to take it all."

Y/N moaned and writhed beneath him, her body arching into his touch as he took her roughly. The feeling of his hand around her throat and the sound of his grunts were driving her wild, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

Mingi continued to pound into her, his grunts growing louder and more frequent as he approached his own release.

"You're so good for me, princess," he panted, his voice rough with exertion. "Taking my cock so well, so perfect for me."

Y/N's voice was barely coherent, her words coming out in a stream of gasps and moans.

"D-daddy," she managed to stutter, her body trembling with pleasure. "Please, I'm so close."

Mingi's grip on her wrists and throat tightened, his movements becoming more urgent and frantic as he chased his own release.

"I know you are, princess," he grunted, his voice strained. "Cum for me, let go and give me everything you have."

Y/N's body tensed, her back arching off the bed as her orgasm hit her like a tidal wave. “Ah~ daddy..”, her voice hoarse and broken as she clenched around him.

Mingi continued to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm as he chased his own release. The feeling of her tightening around him was too much to bear, and he soon followed her over the edge. “fuck princess..” mingi grunts out.

He groaned, burying himself deep inside her as he spilled himself inside her. His body shuddered with the force of his orgasm, his grip on her throat loosening slightly.

Mingi collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He released her throat, his hands coming to rest on her hips instead.

He remained inside her for a few moments, savoring the feeling of her body beneath him. He could feel the sweat cooling on their skin, their bodies slick with a mixture of sweat and cum.

He lifted his head, looking down at her with a mixture of satisfaction and affection. "You did so well, princess," he murmured, his voice still rough from exertion.

Mingi carefully pulled out of her, his body still trembling from the intensity of their encounter. He rolled onto his side, gently helping her to sit up and remove the handcuffs.

He massaged her wrists, checking to make sure they weren't too sore or bruised from being restrained. Once he was satisfied that she was okay, he leaned in and kissed her forehead softly.

"Come on, princess," he said, standing up and holding out a hand to her. "Let's go get cleaned up."

Y/N took his hand, her legs still a bit shaky as she stood up. She leaned against him for support, feeling both exhausted and satisfied after their intense session.

Mingi wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her towards the bathroom. He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until it was just right before stepping inside with her.

He pulled her under the warm spray, letting the water wash away the sweat and other fluids from their bodies. He took his time cleaning her, gently running his hands over her skin and washing away any evidence of their previous activities.

Once they were both clean and dry, Mingi led Y/N back to the bed. He pulled back the covers, letting her climb in before sliding in beside her.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close against his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, holding her tightly as they settled into the bed.

"I love you, princess," he murmured, his voice soft and affectionate. "You were amazing tonight."

Y/n softly says “I love you too mingi”

They both eventually drift off to sleep.

The next morning, sunlight streamed softly through the window, casting a warm glow over Mingi’s room. The world outside seemed quiet, and for once, everything felt still. Y/N lay nestled against Mingi’s chest, her head resting against his shoulder, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air. She felt peaceful, safe, and content.

Mingi shifted slightly, his deep morning voice filling the quiet room. “I think I’m still half asleep,” he mumbled, his words slow and groggy, but it only made Y/N smile.

“You definitely sound it,” she teased softly, raising her head slightly to meet his sleepy eyes.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before pulling her back into his embrace. “I’m not a morning person… but I’ll make an exception for you.”

Y/N laughed, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “Well, lucky for you, I’m also not a morning person,” she said, a hint of humor in her voice.

They both fell into a comfortable silence, just lying there together, basking in the simple joy of being close. After a moment, Mingi broke the quiet again, his voice teasing. “Do you remember how you tried to steal all the blankets last night in your sleep?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, laughing. “I wasn’t trying to steal them! You were hogging them all!”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Mingi grinned, pulling her even closer. “You just can’t resist my charm.”

She snorted. “It’s not your charm. It’s your body heat.”

He smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “Either way, you were still stuck with me.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, her hand resting against his chest. “I can’t believe how much I love this. Just… being here with you, in this moment.”

Mingi’s smile softened, his thumb gently tracing circles on her back. “Same here. I’ve never felt anything like this before, Y/N. You make everything feel… right.”

Y/N paused, lifting her head slightly to look at him. The warmth in his eyes made her heart swell. “Mingi…”

He gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as his voice grew sincere. “I love you. I love you so much, Y/N.”

Y/N felt a rush of emotion flood through her. She had never been this sure of anything in her life. “I love you too, Mingi,” she whispered, her voice filled with the depth of everything she had been feeling.

Mingi’s smile widened, and he kissed her forehead gently. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” Y/N replied, her heart full as she snuggled into him, both of them wrapped in the quiet of their own little world, where nothing else mattered except each other.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

More Than Meets The Eye

Pairing: Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Natasha stays over for a few days and kicks up drama for you and Bucky. She makes you realize that there is more than meets the eye when it comes to Bucky Barnes.

One in a Million Series

Square Filled: day-in-the-life (2024) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Natasha is usually very pristine and professional. She is widely known across the state as one of the best realtors the business has ever seen. She has clients who go for multi-million dollar homes, and she scores nearly every single sale she gets. If she acts out in public, it can largely affect her business, so she tends to keep to herself.

Not when she has alcohol in her system.

Like tonight. She’s in a fling with a musician who she only needs whenever she’s stressed, but it works for both of them. There aren’t any strings attached and they can still get their work done without the stress of a relationship. Natasha turns into a whole other person when she’s drunk. The slut in her comes out and she becomes even more bold. She’s normally shy and reserved.

Not tonight.

Whenever the musician is in town, he tends to stay at her place since he’s only in town for a few days. She texted you twenty minutes ago from a club downtown where the musician is playing. Clubs are not your thing but you’re there when she needs you. After checking in at the door, you push your way inside where there is a sea of people on the dancefloor.

You’re standing on a ledge that overlooks the club. You can either go upstairs where there are more private areas for people just enjoying the music with some drinks while the party is downstairs. From where you are, you can see Natasha and the musician on the other side of the bar.

“Natasha!” You yell even though you know she won’t hear you. You push your way through the sea of people, trying to ignore the hot sweaty bodies bumping into you. “Natasha!”

She turns when she hears her name. “Thank God, you’re here.”

“What’s going on?”

“I caught him with another woman in my bed! My bed!”

“You were gone. I have needs. What do you want me to do?” the musician groans.

“That’s my apartment, asshole! I want your shit out now!”

“I leave in three days. You get it back then.”

You can’t believe how he’s acting but you really don’t want to do this here and now. You grab her arm and pull her toward you. “Come on, he’s not worth it.”

“He’s at my apartment. I don’t want to go back there,” she groans.

“You can stay with me. Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

She’d be more upset if she didn’t just have nearly eight shots earlier. Thankfully, she listens to you and leaves the club with you. Your car is in a gas station parking lot since there wasn’t any parking near or at the club.

“He’s not worth it, Nat.”

“I know, but still. It’s like I’ve got no game lately. All I want is a nice man who will take care of me.”

“Well, you got me.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I do have you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love drunk you,” you giggle. Ten minutes pass and you’re at your place. In the elevator ride up, you think about what the guys might be doing. “So, listen, the guys are home and I don’t need you to be all sexual and grabby like I know you get.”

“Got it,” she nods.

“I’m serious, Nat. Best behavior.”

“I hear you. Best behavior,” she grins.

“Wait here.” You open the door and walk inside. Bucky is playing video games, Steve is trying to read a book, and Sam is blowing straw wrappers at Steve. Some of them hit him and others fly on his book or lap. ��Hey, guys. I have Natasha with me, and it looks like she’s going to stay with us for a few days.” Steve perks up at Natasha’s name. “Just letting you know, she is very drunk and she’s very bold and loose with her body. I am so sorry for whatever she might try on you guys.”

You open the front door and Natasha walks in with a sly smirk on her face.

“Natasha. Wow, you look amazing,” Steve says, forgoing his book altogether.

“Thanks, baby,” she grins.

“Okay, you can sleep on the couch tonight, and we’ll figure something out tomorrow. Let me get you some blankets and a pillow.”

You leave her with the guys and walk into your room. Seconds later, you hear the stereo turn on and loud music is blasted. You sigh knowing this was a possibility but hoped it wasn’t going to happen. When you walk into the living room, you see Natasha, Steve, and Sam dancing along to the music. Bucky is still on the couch, clearly not wanting any part of this.

“Natasha, you should really get some sleep.”

“Dance first! Bucky, come on!”

“I’m okay, really. I’m going to go to bed.”

She shimmies her way over to Bucky who stands up. She pulls him into her body, and he tries to politely get her off him.

“Natasha, come on. He doesn’t want to dance.” She lets him go and he slips by her easily. He looks at you as he passes but doesn’t say anything else. It looks like she won’t be sleeping anytime soon, so you put the blankets and pillows on the couch. “Okay, I’m going to bed. Keep it down in here, please.”

Ten minutes after you leave, Natasha starts to grow tired. Steve jumps at the chance to take her to bed even though he’s not going to do anything with her. He’s a gentleman and that won’t change even if she is intoxicated. He really likes her and if he wants to be with her, he’s going to have to show him he’s not just some fling she’s used to.

“Come on, let me show you to my bed.”

Steve wraps a strong arm around her waist and guides her to his bedroom. She flops onto the bed face first and is out like a light. Steve looks around and grabs a small blanket before draping it over her body. He joins Sam back in the living room and plops down on the couch with a grin.

“Why are you grinning?”

“She’s in my bed. I overheard some conversations she and Y/N have had. All she’s ever had are flings, so I’m going to show her that I can be the gentleman she needs.”

“Yeah, because that’s a way to get a girl into bed,” Sam laughs.

“Just you wait, Sam. It’ll happen.”

In the morning, you wake to Bucky nursing his second cup of coffee. Steve is sleeping on the couch which means Natasha must be in his bedroom.

“Good morning, Bucky.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Is that all you’re having for breakfast?” Bucky shrugs and you shake your head. “Not acceptable. You’re a growing man. You need proper food. I’ll make you some.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Nonsense. I want to. Do you like eggs? Pancakes? Waffles?”

“No, Y/N, I’m fine.”

“Eggs and bacon it is,” you smile. “You can have some with me. Plus, I’m sure Natasha and the guys will be hungry when they wake up.”

“I’m fine, Y/N. Stop being so nice to me. You don’t have to…”

“What?” you ask when he stops talking.

“You don’t have to take care of me.”

“Well, someone has to, right? Everyone deserves someone to take care of them every once in a while,” you smile and turn back to the food.

Bucky stares at you in thought. He nods and takes a sip of his coffee. At the smell of food, Sam and Steve wake up. The only person who is sleeping is Natasha, and you can only assume she is going to want a strong cup of coffee, so you start to brew a pot for her. Much like you assumed, she walks out of Steve’s room when she smells the coffee.

“Is that coffee?”

“Brewed a new pot for you. Extra hot. Extra strong.”

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“Natasha. I hope you slept well,” Steve smiles.

“Thank you for letting me use your bed. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem. Our couch isn’t the best, and I didn’t want your back all messed up.”

Sam looks at Steve who smiles knowingly. Natasha pours herself a cup of coffee while you plate the food. You slide one over to Bucky and smile at him.

“Eat. I can hear your stomach growling from over here.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word but accepts the food from you. After a nice breakfast, Natasha hops in the shower to wash of the stink from last night, and Steve strips his bed to wash the sheets. Natasha might smell good, better than most, but she reeked of alcohol last night, and he doesn’t want his bed smelling like that.

You get dressed in a green and white dress that goes down to your knees, and you walk into the bathroom where the lotion is. You pause when you see Sam standing by the sink with a toothbrush in his mouth… without toothpaste. Steve is standing by the towel rack looking at the large amount of products he keeps there. His hair is always silky smooth and his skin always looks amazing. He has some of the best products that you like to steal from time to time.

“What are you guys doing?”

“I’m brushing my teeth,” Sam says in defense.

“I’m just… doing things,” Steve mutters.

Bucky walks into the bathroom and pauses when he notices everyone else. “Is this a normal hangout spot now?”

“Nat, you’ve been in there for ages. Come on,” you say and squirt some lotion onto your hands.

“Sorry, I just can’t seem to find any towels that are bigger.” She slides the curtain back after she secures a towel around her body. All three men are big guys but their waists are slim, so they don’t need big towels, and all of yours are in the washer. “Oh.”

Sam stops brushing his teeth and stares at her while Steve blushes hard. He wants to look but every time he does, his face goes red so he clears his throat and turns away.

“Okay, come on. I have something you can wear.”

Bucky’s brain takes a few minutes to process what’s happening, so he freezes up when she tries to go past him. He barely gives her an inch to move, and you shake your head in disappointment.

“I am very disappointed in all of you.” You look at Bucky. “Especially you. I thought you were better than this.”

“I am sometimes.”

You walk into your room where Natasha is going through your closet for something to wear. You close the door to give her privacy, and she turns holding a shirt you got out of whim. Your style isn’t very flashy but she convinced you to get this shirt that exposes a bit more cleavage.

“No, I haven’t worn it yet. Yes, you can.”

“Thanks,” she grins.

She grabs a pair of jeans that she left over one time and puts those on along with the shirt.

“So, are we going to talk about last night?”

“I blacked most of it out. What happened?”

“You almost gave Bucky a lap dance, and it was cute to watch Steve gush all over you. That boy likes you.”

“Ooh, are we talking about boys?”

“Yeah, like your ex-boyfriend musician. Are you going to kick him out of your apartment?”

“He’s going to be gone in a few days. Can I just stay here until he’s gone?”

“Nat, that’s your place.”

“I know, but you don’t know this guy. He’s a PR nightmare. It’s best if I let him stay there until he’s gone.” You shrug. “Let’s talk about Bucky now.”

“Bucky? What about him?”

“Come on. You say Steve likes me? Bucky likes you.”

“No, he doesn’t. We’re just friends.”

“You can’t be just friends with these guys. Do you really think none of them have ever thought about sleeping with you?”

“Stop, it Nat,” you sigh.

Someone knocks on your door and Bucky opens it.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?”

“Yes,” Nat answers for you. “You should go with him, Y/N, to get that thing you really need.”

“I don’t need a thing.”

“Yes, you do. You need that thing you were telling me about.”

“I wonder what that is,” Bucky mumbles.

“She’ll be right out,” Nat smiles. She closes the door on him and turns to you with a smile. “This is perfect.”

You look at her and your eyes widen. “No, you’re not doing this. You’re not going to come in here and ruin what I have with them. I’m finally happy after Jack, and I really like these guys. I think they’re starting to like me, too.”

“Do you remember telling me about your perfect man? Bucky is everything on your list. Physically strong. Check. Nice smile. Double check. Tall. Triple check. Blue eyes, kind, caring, knows what he wants, and older. Check, check, and check.” She walks closer to you. “Plus, did you see his feet? A guy’s feet always point to what they want, and his were pointing right at you.”

“How would you like him to stand?” You stand and point both feet outward like a duck. “Like this?”

“Come on, go. He’s waiting for you.”

“Hey, are you ready?” Bucky calls out.

“Be there in a sec, bro!”

“Did you just call me bro?”

You pause. “Yeah. I’m coming.” You open the door. “Talk to Steve. I think he can be good for you.”

“Only if you talk to Bucky.”

“Bye,” you roll your eyes.

The ride to the store wasn’t as awkward as you thought it was going to be, but being in the store with all these people, all you could think about were Nat’s words.

“So, how long is she staying?” Bucky asks.

He has a very short list of items to get, and he goes through the different aisles and puts them in the cart.

“Only for a few days. Her douchey ex-boyfriend is staying in her apartment. It’s a long story.”

Everywhere you look there are different kinds of couples. Older, younger, same sex… Everywhere you look, you’re paying attention to their feet. One older couple has both their feet pointed at each other while another couple has theirs pointed away from each other. That couple looks like they don’t enjoy each other’s company as much. Is she right? Bucky says something but you’re too much in your own head to hear what he has to say.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Stop taking care of everyone.”

You look down and notice his feet are pointing right at you. “Oh, my God.”

“What?”

“What?” You look up at him. “Nothing. What?”

“What?” You move slowly around Bucky but he follows you by moving his entire body and not just his head. “What are you doing?” You keep moving around Bucky to get his feet away from you but he keeps turning so that they’re always pointed at you. “I know she’s your best friend, but I didn't mean to insult you. I’m just saying you don’t have to take care of her.”

“I know.”

You do a complete one-eighty around him, yet he still follows you with his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I’m just trying to see…”

“Look, I’m sorry if I insulted you, but what are you doing right now?”

“I’m just… walking like a friend.”

“Okay, we have one more item on our list and then we can go. We just need toilet paper.”

“I don’t use it,” you say slowly.

“You don’t use toilet paper?”

You chuckle nervously and shake your head. “I mean… That’s not what I meant.” There is some right next to you so you grab the first one you see and put it in the cart. “Okay, we can go now.”

“You’re so weird,” he mutters and walks to the cashier.

Fuck, Natasha. She said something and now she’s in your head like a goddamn parasite. You two leave the store and start the journey back home. Bucky stops at the light and turns to you with confusion on his face.

“Okay, what is going on with you, Y/N?”

“Why do you have to do that? Why do you have to say my name like that?” You imitate him. “Y/N. And why do you have to wear old man clothes all the time?”

“I’m not wearing old man clothes. You don’t like the way I dress?”

“No… I just…” You fan your face. “I just need some air.”

All the windows are open but Bucky doesn’t comment on it. Just then, a woman walks up to the window carrying a bunch of red roses and is trying to sell them at stoplights like this one. You respect her trying to make extra money, but you can’t deal with this right now. All you can think about is Bucky and the fact that you saw his giant penis and the way his feet kept pointing at you.

“Roses for the lady?” the woman grins.

“You want some roses? I’ll buy you some.”

“No, I’m okay.”

Still, Bucky takes out some cash and hands it over to the woman who then gives the roses to him.

“Here, take some roses.”

“No, I don’t want them.”

“They were two dollars. Just take the roses.” You have to get out of here. You unbuckle and open the car door before fleeing. “Y/N, what are you doing? It was a joke. Get back in the car!” you take off running down the street. “Y/N!”

You don’t care if you’re going the wrong way. You just needed out of that goddamn car. It takes you an extra twenty minutes to get home when it could have taken you five in the car, but you needed the walk. You trudge inside your apartment to see Natasha sitting on the couch with a realtor magazine in her hands. She likes to keep up with what’s popular around the city.

“I walked all the way home,” you pant. “I got out of the war and walked all the way home.”

“What happened?”

“You happened, Nat. You got in my head! His feet were pointed at me the whole time.” She nods and stands up. “Is it the way I’m dressed? Is it my posture?”

“Look, I’ll talk to him for you.”

“No, please don’t. Just let me handle this, okay?”

The door opens and Bucky walks in with the groceries. “Okay, what the hell happened, Y/N? I’ve been driving around for the last thirty minutes looking for you. We were in the middle of traffic and you just got out and ran away.”

“I was hot,” you mumble.

“You were so hot that you had to jump out of my car and run?” You lean to the right and fix your posture. “Why are you standing like that?”

“This is how I always stand?”

“I’ve never seen you stand like that.” He shakes his head. “Look, I was worried about you, okay? You can’t just… Don’t do that again, okay?”

Bucky walks away and Natasha grins at you.

“Are you even listening to him? He’s trying to tell you that he likes you.”

“No, he’s just saying he cares about me as a friend.”

“Let’s go ask him.” She takes two steps and you jump on her back to stop her. She turns into the fighter that she is and starts to wrestle you, and you two go crumbling to the ground. “I am trying to help you, Y/N!”

“I don’t need your help, Nat. I like being friends with him. Yes, he has a giant penis that I saw. Yes, he saw me naked. Yes, he might be my dream guy, but none of that matters. He’s my friend and all that will go away if I bring this up. What if you’re wrong? What if he doesn’t like me?”

“A big part of my job is reading people. How do you think I managed to score as much as I have? I’ve managed to talk down narcissists and misogynists to buy more than the selling price. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You never make the first move.”

“I have before, Natasha. I’ve been burned too many times to let it happen again. I like living here and that might go away because ‘you can read people’. I know you want to take care of me like I take care of you, but I have to handle this. Me, not you.”

“Fine,” she huffs out. “Thank you for letting me stay, but it’s best if I kick Troy out of my place. You got your boy drama and I have mine. Plus, I have a showing later in Beverly Hills I can’t miss.”

“You’re always welcome here.”

She leaves the apartment and Steve comes out of his room.

“Is she gone?”

“Yeah, she is.”

Steve sighs and flops onto the couch. “I don’t know how to do this. She’s not like any woman I have ever met. I thought we had a moment while you were gone, but it’s like it never happened with her.”

“Natasha has been hurt so many times. She had flings because in the last relationship she was in, he… I shouldn’t tell you this, but I will say this. She’s going to make you work for it.”

“That’s what makes it worth it,” he smiles.

“Good luck. She could use a guy like you.”

You’re exhausted by the end of the night, so you do your nighttime routine before going to bed. The first thing you do is brush your teeth. The door opens and Bucky walks in just as you start. You lightly blush just as Bucky grabs his toothbrush. You stand there in silence for a few minutes before you spit out the toothpaste in your mouth.

“Hey, I’m sorry for how I acted before.” Bucky looks at you. “Nat said something that freaked me out, but I’m good now. I’m sorry for worrying you.”

“It’s okay,” he says with a mouthful of toothpaste.

He turns to the sink again and continues brushing, and you notice his feet move away from you and back to the sink. To hide your smile, you continue brushing your teeth, and your heart flutters.

x

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[dungeefox]

Forced Favor — J.W.W

Two completely different people settling in an arranged marriage to fulfil their father's wishes. Except, what if they end up becoming fluent in choosing one another more than they planned to?

pairing: wonwoo x oc

genre: arranged marriage, friends-ish to lovers, enemies-ish to lovers

warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, pool sex, unprotected sex, cumshot, cursing, dirty talk, big dick!wonwoo, fingering (f receiving)

wc: 14,710

a/n: comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! 🥹

The day after your parents finalized their divorce, your mother left, taking your sister with her while you stayed behind with your father. You recall the tears streaming down your face as you pleaded with her not to go. Despite her obvious favouritism toward your sister, having her in your life feels far better than enduring the indifference of a father who seems uninterested in you.

Your father never desired to have children, viewing them as a burden. This likely explains why, as soon as your mother left, he sent you away and has largely remained distant since. You were just fourteen at the time, and adjusting to life on your own was far from easy. Many nights were spent feeling lonely, frightened, and longing for home, wishing for someone to reach out to, but there was no one available. It's not that you didn't make an effort to connect with your parents and sister; you did, and quite desperately, to be honest. You attempted to call several times, but they never answered. You even wrote letters detailing how you were doing, sharing your academic successes, and almost pleading for their pride. You hoped that one day they might want you back, but after six long years, that day still feels out of reach.

Until yesterday.

It felt surreal when you got a call from your father informing you that he had arranged a flight for you to return home. He only said, "Mr. and Mrs. Jeon have invited us for dinner," and you didn’t probe further about the occasion. You were simply filled with joy at the thought of being reunited with your father once more.

𓂃۶ৎ

"Do you know why you're here?" Wonwoo inquires as he guides you along the stone path in his backyard. You both have just stepped out of the dining room because he wished to have a private conversation with you.

You respond with a slight shrug of your shoulders. "Why?"

He halts next to a wooden bench, leaning forward to wipe the dust off its surface. "Here, sit."

You glance at him, hesitating for a moment before finally sitting down. "What is this about?"

He takes a position beside you, adjusting slightly so that he faces you. "Our parents want us to get married."

M-married?

You're uncertain if you're hearing him correctly. For a moment, you can only gaze at him, your lips attempting to form a word, yet nothing escapes. Eventually, you manage a quiet "What?"

"I understand," he replies. "That's quite a lot to take in. Feel free to take your time."

"Take my time?" You laugh, not out of humor, but because it seems absurd. "I don’t need time to process this. You must be out of your mind if you think I'm going to marry you."

"Well, tell that to our parents—they set this whole shit up."

You narrow your gaze suspiciously. Somehow you have a feeling that this is one of his stupid pranks. Not that it's new to you. He does it all the time. The asshole acts like it's his job sometimes. 

“I swear to God if this is one of your-” Wonwoo lifts a finger up, cutting your speech short. "I know what you're about to say. But no, it's not a prank. I'm serious."

"So you're telling me you actually agreed to this arrangement?" you inquire, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

"No, not really. But I'm doing this for my father. I’m sure you’ve heard about it."

Yes, your dad mentioned Mr. Jeon's declining health during the drive from the airport. Currently, he is overseas receiving treatment for his illness. A wave of sympathy washes over you for Wonwoo, yet it doesn't sway your decision.

"I'm truly sorry about your father, Wonwoo. I really am. But marrying me won’t cure his illness."

"I understand that," he replies, letting out a heavy sigh. "He just wants to see me settled down before... you know."

"Settled down with... me?"

Wonwoo gives a nod. "You know how much my parents adore you. They've been trying to set us up since we were teens."

"But he can't force you to marry someone you don't want to. Do you honestly think you can spend your life tied to someone you don’t love? You can’t even commit to a relationship.”

He shrugs casually. "I don't mind if it's you I'm marrying.” You huff, not believing him. "You don't even like me.”

You and Wonwoo have been childhood friends, having grown up as neighbors. However, your personalities clash like oil and water—completely incompatible. He is the only person who truly knows how to irritate you. It’s not that you dislike him, nor does he qualify as your enemy. You must admit, he can be quite charming at times, especially when he isn’t saying or doing something foolish that gets on your nerves. This happens only once in a blue moon, by the way. Sometimes, it's hard to believe he is twenty-eight while you are just twenty-one; it feels like it should be the other way around.

“I never said I don't like you," Wonwoo denies. "I actually do. I think you… uh…"

“I'm what?" You probe, lifting your brows. 

"I think you've got nice teeth," He says. 

“What? Teeth?!"

“Yeah. Teeth. They look especially nice when you smile. Which you don't do often by the way.” 

Is this a joke? You thought as you gave him the eye-roll. 

"Look, you may not be someone who takes matters like marriage seriously, but I do. I can't sacrifice myself to spend the rest of my life with you just to please your father. And if I ever plan to marry, it would be to someone I love."

He exhales and nods. "Alright, I respect your decision.”

You rise from the bench and gaze down at him. "Can we get back inside now?"

"Sure."

𓂃۶ৎ

Upon returning to the dining room, you find the table cleared and everyone gone. You look over at the man beside you, who appears just as puzzled. He steps out of the dining room, and you follow him into the living hall, only to discover it is also empty.

"Where is everyone?" you inquire.

“Your father has left," replies Wonwoo's mother as she descends the staircase.

"What? Why?" you ask, a sense of unease creeping in. "Did he mention anything?"

“We were talking about you and thought it would be wonderful for you to stay here with Wonwoo for maybe three weeks or more, giving you time to consider the arrangement."

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "What do you mean?”

“I trust Wonwoo has filled you in on this, right?" She glances at her son.

"Yes, but—" You look at Wonwoo, silently questioning, “Are you part of this too?” He responds with a clueless shrug.

"Think of it as a trial period," she continues. "It's just an opportunity for you to see if you like Wonwoo enough to marry him." She pauses, smiling as she takes your hand. "You don't have to feel pressured to say yes, but Mr. Jeon and I would be thrilled to have you as our daughter-in-law."

There's so much information to absorb, and it’s all happening so fast. Your mouth opens and closes, struggling to find the right words, but nothing comes.

“Oh, and your father mentioned he’ll be out of town for a few weeks," Mrs. Jeon adds.

“Wait, what?” Panic seizes your heart as you look around, searching for your purse. Spotting it on one of the sofas, you rush over to grab your phone. A message from your father catches your eye. Holding your breath, you tap on the notification to read it.

“Sorry, I have to leave early to catch a flight to China. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon have kindly offered for you to stay at their place for now. Hopefully, you can decide by the end of your stay there. I genuinely hope you'll say yes. This is everything I could have wished for you: to marry someone wonderful, someone of high status like Wonwoo. You'll make me so proud. Plus, Mr. Jeon has been a big help to our family; we owe him a lot.”

The words slowly sink in. It feels as though the world is spinning around you, and you’re on the verge of fainting. You sway slightly on your feet, but suddenly Wonwoo is beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist for support.

“You okay?" he whispers, gazing down at you. You nod slowly, feeling his proximity make you blush, and you quickly look away.

“Aw, look at you two, such a perfect match,” his mother coos, clasping her hands together, her expression dreamy as if she's watching a romantic movie.

You clear your throat, straightening up to create some distance between you and Wonwoo. He interprets this as a signal to release you, but his eyes remain fixed on you as if he fears you might collapse if he looks away.

"I'm feeling a bit exhausted from the jet lag," you tell his mother. "Would it be alright if I head up to my room first?"

“Oh dear, of course! You must be so tired." She glances at Wonwoo. "Can you show her to her room?"

"Which one?" he asks. “Any bedroom upstairs," she replies, adding with a playful tone, "Just try to avoid the haunted one."

Your eyes widen as you switch gazes between Wonwoo and his mother. "H-haunted?" Wonwoo laughs softly, placing a reassuring hand on your lower back. "Let’s go," he says, guiding you up the staircase.

"What did she mean by 'haunted'?" you inquire, looking up at him as you ascend.

"The previous owner tragically took their own life in one of the bedrooms upstairs."

"Oh, fantastic," you mutter quietly to yourself.

As you reach the second floor, the atmosphere feels less grand than below. A narrow hallway stretches out, with three rooms on each side. The lighting is dim, and rustic paintings adorn the walls. You notice your small suitcase waiting by the door at the far end of the corridor. That must be your room.

"Which one is the haunted one?" you whisper cautiously to Wonwoo as he leads you down the hall. He gestures toward the door directly across from yours, sending a shiver down your spine. Wonwoo opens the door to your room, and you step inside, pulling your suitcase along as he flicks the light on.

“Let me know if you need anything," He says.

"Wonwoo, wait," You turn around, feeling more nervous now that he's leaving the door nearly closed, but it flew open again. 

"What?" He says, standing at the doorway, his hand holding onto the door jamb.

"Where will you be sleeping?" He nods towards the room next door.

"Oh," That's a relief. "Okay. Goodnight.'

A little frown forms on his forehead as he stands there, studying your face. "Will you be okay?’

"You mean will I be okay staying across a haunted room? or will I be okay staying with you for the next three weeks?"

"Both."

"No and no," You reply sharply. "can't even stand being in the same room with you for a minute, let alone living together.” You didn't know what got into you, but you certainly didn't mean to say that. 

Wonwoo takes a sharp breath, as if he's fighting the impulse to snap back at you. "Do you want me to send you home? You don’t have to stay here if you’d rather not."

You want to respond that you don’t really have a home, but that would only prompt him to ask why. You're too worn out for that kind of inquiry.

“Never mind," You reply, turning away from him. "Just leave me alone.”

"I swear you are so fucking confusing sometimes," He murmurs under his breath.

“Me? Confusing?" You turned sharply to glare at him. "This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t agreed to this ridiculous arrangement. You brought me into this! It’s entirely your fault!"

The door swings open as Wonwoo steps inside. "If you're so against it, you should've told my mother no just now. It's really that simple!" he countered. "Why didn’t you speak up?"

"Because—" You pause, your lips moving as if searching for words. "I just can’t, alright?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean you can't?"

With a resigned sigh, you finally confess, "My dad wants me to stay here, and he believes I should marry you."

“Why didn’t you let him know that you’re not interested? You had no trouble rejecting me earlier,” he remarks with a sneer.

“You don’t get it,” you reply. “My relationship with my dad is incredibly strained. If I say no, he’ll be so disappointed. I don’t want to jeopardize the little connection we have left by letting him down.”

He gazes at you, pausing for a moment to let your words resonate. "So, you're really considering marrying me?"

"I honestly don't know, Wonwoo," you respond with a heavy sigh. "I'm just too tired to think right now. All I need is some sleep." He nods in understanding. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm sorry for raising my voice at you," you mumble as the door is about to close. He turns to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "It's alright, I actually missed it."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You missed being yelled at by me?"

"Yeah," he confesses. "But I miss you even more." His sincerity almost makes you believe him. Then, you remember that this is Wonwoo – the guy who speaks his mind without a filter. You can't take his words too seriously.

"Goodnight, Wonwoo," you reply simply.

"Aren't you going to say it back?" he asks, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Nope," you say, turning away from him.

"Fine. Just don't come looking for me when the demon creature haunts you tonight."

You whip your head around to face him. "There's a demon creature?!"

Instead of answering, he turns away and slams the door in your face like a first-class asshole that he is, leaving you all alone in that room.

𓂃۶ৎ 

You spent the previous night brooding over how awful this entire situation is. However, by morning, you’ve come to terms with the fact that you’ll be here for the next three weeks. After all, it’s summer break, and there’s nothing you can do or anywhere to go. Your options are either to stay with Wonwoo or be completely alone in your apartment overseas. You decide that the former sounds more appealing because, despite how annoying Wonwoo can be at times, he is still your friend and some company would be nice.

Regarding the marriage arrangement, as absurd as it may seem, you might actually think about giving it a chance.

Might. Think.

If you were to agree, it would be for your Dad, not for Wonwoo. Perhaps it’s the message he sent that resonates with your willingness to sacrifice. The part of you that is eager to make him proud and gain his approval. Maybe this could help mend your relationship with your Dad. All you can do is hope.

𓂃۶ৎ

Deciding it’s futile to keep brooding, you rise from bed and slip into your cozy robe before stepping out of the room. In the daylight, the hallway feels less menacing than it did last night. Yet, the thought of a haunted room still sends shivers down your spine.

You finally reach Wonwoo's door and knock gently. There’s no response. After a few more attempts, you choose to enter, as silence persists. The door opens just enough for you to peek inside. A glance at the bed reveals that Wonwoo is absent, but the sound of the shower fills the air.

Your gaze wanders around the room. A large display shelf occupies one wall, overflowing with train sets and famous landmarks crafted from Lego. A smile crosses your face. You've always known about his childhood fascination, but you never expected it to endure into adulthood. The grown-up Wonwoo seems more like someone who engages with women rather than toys. Perhaps you don’t know him as well as you thought.

Then something else captures your attention. Scattered across the floor near the shelves lies a massive Lego set that’s only partially assembled. It appears he’s constructing the Tower Bridge. Curious, you find yourself stepping into the room, leaving the door ajar behind you. You tread carefully to avoid disturbing the scattered bricks and pieces as you move further in.

Has anyone ever tried stepping on this thing? Hurt shitless just so you know. You bend your knees and squat down to get a clearer look of the miniatures. Everything looks so wee and cute. You smile at a tiny replica of a London bus and pick it up. As you're inspecting it, the bathroom door behind cracks open. You slowly bring your head around and you gape and freeze on the spot, the bricks slipping out of your grasp, free-falling to the ground. 

Standing at the threshold of the bathroom is Wonwoo. Wearing nothing from head to toe. And he is staring at you, eyes wide open, looking more dumbfounded than ever.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He yells from where he stands.

"I'm so sorry!" You quickly turn your head and spring to your feet, ready to escape the situation. However, as you take your first step, a sudden, piercing pain shoots through the back of your foot, causing you to stumble. You prefer to avoid the f-word unless absolutely necessary, but…

“FUCKING HELL!” Everything falls apart. In that brief moment, you can nearly witness your life flash before you. They say this occurs just before death, but the truth is, you’re still very much alive. But you're pretty sure it feels all the fucking same when your ass landed on these tiny little bricks on the floor. 

"Oh shit! Are you okay?" You lift your head and gasp at the sight of him striding towards you. All naked. His, whatever it is, swinging freely. Don't look at it, don't look! Instead, you find yourself staring in disbelief. No matter how hard you try, you simply can't erase that image from your mind. Maybe it is a testament to how lonely or horny you are. You might have been experiencing a dry spell for quite some time, or perhaps you've never encountered something so large and thick in person before. All of a sudden you're wishing this is porn so you could just get on your knees and suck him off into oblivion.

Wonwoo clears his throat, and the sound cuts through your wandering thoughts. You snap back to reality, looking up to see him standing tall above you.

“I'm so sorry!" You scream as you swiftly cover your eyes with your palm to block your sight. Using your other hand, you push yourself up to stand and quickly pivot to scurry away. Your ass is on fire but you don't even care anymore. All you need is to get out of there. 

𓂃۶ৎ

Following that awkward moment in Wonwoo's room this morning, you now find yourselves having breakfast in complete silence. Mrs. Jeon has left the country to be with her husband, leaving just you and Wonwoo in the house, along with the housemaids—who mostly remain invisible unless needed. The dining room is eerily quiet, with only the sound of spoons clinking against plates breaking the stillness. You're making a concerted effort to avoid eye contact with Wonwoo, but every time you steal a glance, you catch him already staring, which sends your mind racing and makes you blush uncontrollably.

Wonwoo, on the other hand, is revelling in this tension. The smug grin on his face says it all, and his gaze is fixed on you, never wavering. He delights in teasing you like this, especially when you turn all shy and red as you are now. As soon as breakfast is finished, you hurriedly retreat to your room.

The remainder of the afternoon is spent in bed, absorbed in your e-reader, diving into the latest fantasy romance you just bought. For a little while, you allow yourself to escape into someone else's world, a refreshing break from your reality. It feels liberating, providing temporary relief from your worries.

Finally, you venture out of your room, driven by thirst. After a quick shower, you slip into a maroon sweater that drapes over one shoulder, paired with black leggings. The clock nears seven o'clock, and the hallway is starting to darken. Suddenly reminded of the possibility of encountering a demon lurking nearby, you quicken your steps toward the staircase.

At that moment, you encounter Wonwoo. He’s making his way up the final flight of stairs just as you’re about to head down. You freeze in place, captivated by the sight before you. He remains oblivious to your presence, absorbed in his phone. It appears he has just come from a swim; his hair is damp, and he wears a grey bathrobe. The belt is tied securely, yet the V neckline reveals his bare chest. 

You feel a flutter in your lower abdomen as you continue to gaze at him. This man possesses impressively broad shoulders, the kind that makes you feel petite, especially with water droplets glistening on his skin, he's looking even more lickable than usual. What are you talking about?! You shake your head, pushing that thought far, far away. You can't help but feel that the unexpected encounter this morning truly affected you deeply.

"Oh, hey," Wonwoo offers a greeting as he arrives at the top of the stairs, shifting his focus from his phone to you. You respond with a gentle hum and continue to walk past him. He tsks and reaches out to grab your arm, pulling you back.

“How long are you planning to ignore me?" He asks, sounding gruff.

“I'm not ignoring you," You deny. "I was just going to head downstairs to get something to drink."

"Then explain why you're hiding in your room doing who knows what for the whole fucking day? Is that what you're planning to do for the rest of your stay here?" He asks.

"No," You respond softly. Wonwoo gazes at your face as if he's trying to uncover a hidden answer. "Is it because of what happened this morning? You walking in on me naked?" He surmises. 

Yes and yes. 

You feel your cheek growing hot, and Wonwoo notices. "Come on, it's just a dick. Pretty sure you've seen one before," He teases.

“That's not just a dick, that's-" The words trail away and you press your lips together to stop yourself. A slow smirk pulls at his lips. "What?" he asks. That's one hell of a dick, you say internally, refusing to voice it out. The man doesn't need an extra boost to his ego. Instead, you raise your chin and say, "What do you want from me?"

"Listen," he says, shifting back to a serious tone. "The reason we’re both trapped here is because we need to be. I’m doing this for my father, and you’re here because you don’t want to disappoint yours. The decision to marry me is yours, and you have three weeks to think it over. But that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves while you’re here."

He’s right. You can’t spend the next twenty-eight days holed up in your room with your nose buried in a book.

"What do you propose we do then?" you inquire.

"I have a game in mind that I think we should play," he suggests.

“Game?” you inquire, tilting your head in curiosity.

“Absolutely. This game will help us reconnect.”

“We already know each other, Wonwoo," you reply. "We were friends, remember?”

“That was six years ago. People change,” he states matter-of-factly.

That's true. “Alright, how do we play?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with this game: Truth or Dare. You choose one of the two. If you select truth, I’ll ask you a question that you must answer honestly—no lies or dodging. If you refuse to answer, you’ll have to complete a dare. Each person gets three turns a day. Deal?”

“Deal.”

“I’ll go first,” he begins. “So, truth or dare?”

You take a moment to reflect. Opting for a dare feels like too much of a gamble. Wonwoo can be quite the trickster at times. What if he challenges you to do something outrageous, like a lap dance or something equally embarrassing?

"Truth," you finally decide.

"Are you currently seeing anyone?" he inquires.

"No." A look of relief washes over his face as he smiles. "Now it's your turn."

"Truth or Dare?" you ask, secretly hoping he will choose the latter. You feel a strong urge to dare him to lick your toes or wash your feet, just to annoy him.

“Truth,” he responds instead.

“Ugh,” you groan. Honestly, you can't come up with anything clever to ask right now, so you settle on, "What's your hobby?" He rolls his eyes. "Boring."

"Just answer the question, Wonwoo," you say impatiently, eager to wrap this up and escape from him. "So, what's your hobby?" you ask once more.

"Sex. I love sex. If that's a hobby."

"Why am I even surprised?" you murmur to yourself, your tone quite flat.

"My turn now," he continues. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"I'm just curious..." He pauses for a brief moment. "Are you a virgin?"

You stare directly into his eyes. It's not that you are a virgin, but it's also not his place to ask. "Why do you want to know?" you respond.

He shrugs casually. "Just for future reference."

"What does that even mean?"

"Come on, do you really think nothing will happen between us over the next three weeks?"

How bold of him! "I'm not going to sleep with you if that's what you're implying."

"Ouch." He clutches his chest, feigning injury. "I thought you'd be interested after catching a glimpse of my human sausage."

"You did not just say human sausage." You press your lips together, trying to suppress laughter.

"What should I call it then?" He raises his brows. "Mushroom head? Semen maker? Corn Dog?”

"Please, stop," You say through your pressed lips. He grins. "What about cum factory? Sounds good?" That's all there is to it. You let out a hearty laugh that is quite unbecoming, resembling a pig's snort so closely that you must turn away to conceal your face.

"Do you want me to continue, babe?" He teases. "I can go on all night." You shake your head jerkily. "No! no more dick talk, please." It takes a moment for you to regain your composure. Taking a deep breath, you turn back to face him. Wonwoo chuckles at the rosy flush on your cheeks from all the laughter. Honestly, he's been eager to see you laugh like this; you look so stunning that you nearly leave him breathless.

"You haven't answered my question," He says. "Are you a virgin?"

"I'm not telling you," You refuse.

"Well, you know the consequence when you can't answer a question.”

"Alright, I'll take on a dare. What do you want me to do?" Wonwoo presses his lips together, taking his time to contemplate. "You’re not going to ask me to kiss you, are you?" You guessed correctly; it's the only thing that pops into your mind. "That's not what I had in mind," he says, locking his gaze on your eyes and then your lips. "Though I wouldn't be opposed to it."

You swallow hard, feeling a wave of nerves. "Then what do you want me to do?"

His eyes rise to meet yours. "Sing me that song."

"What song?"

"Baby.." He starts singing, "Shark doo doo doo doo."

"Ugh, go fuck yourself, Wonwoo!" You snarl and start walking off down the hall.

"Where are you going, babe?" He asks through his laughter. You flip him the middle finger and keep walking. 

𓂃۶ৎ

You’ve been here for ten days, and it’s beginning to dawn on you that your stay isn’t as unpleasant as you initially imagined. Your books and the maids provide comforting company in Wonwoo's absence. However, when he is home, he either intentionally teases you, flirts with you at every opportunity, or instigates a game of Truth or Dare. It’s evident that you both have formed a bond through this game, though recently, his questions have varied widely, swinging from trivial to rather inappropriate.

What's your favorite movie? (Shrek)

Do you believe in Aliens? (Nope)

What do you like about me? (Nothing)

You were, of course, being dishonest. You simply didn’t want him to become too arrogant about it.

Do you have a Daddy kink? (What do you think?)

There are moments when you ask questions without much thought, just wanting to move on, and then there are times when your curiosity is genuine. Through this playful game, albeit silly, you learn so much about Wonwoo—ranging from significant details, like his decision to leave his architecture career to take over his father's company, to lighter anecdotes, such as how his ex-girlfriend broke up with him because he pours his milk before his cereal. Just ten days ago, he was merely an acquaintance; now he has become a friend—the kind who annoys you at times, yet you can't stay upset with for long.

𓂃۶ৎ

It's a Friday morning, and you find yourself alone in the dining room. Wonwoo has left for work after sharing a quick breakfast with you, a routine that has developed since you started your stay. He'll return for dinner later in the evening. As you sip your tea, your phone lights up with a message from your dad, saying, 'The lawyer will be in touch soon. If there's anything you'd like to add to the contract, please let him know.'

It appears your dad has engaged a lawyer to assist in drafting a prenuptial agreement. You don't quite grasp the urgency. To be honest, you haven't really contemplated what will happen after the three weeks are up, but you aren't one to defy your father's wishes. With a resigned sigh, you pick up your phone and respond with an "Okay" and a "Thank you, Dad."

Later that evening, you finally draft a few terms you'd like to negotiate, typing them out in the notes section of your iPad. Now, you're pondering whether to discuss them with Wonwoo before sending the file to your lawyer. After a brief moment of reflection, you reach for your phone to send him a text.

[9:06pm] You: My room, now. [9:06pm] Jeon W.: You think I'm your dog? [9:07pm] You: Can you see me in my room, please? :) [9:07pm] Jeon W.: What for? [9:08pm] You: I want to show you something. [9:08pm] Jeon W.: You, naked? [9:09pm] You: Maybe.

In an instant, you hear the familiar sound of his door opening and closing, accompanied by the rhythm of his footsteps. Finally, the door to your room swings open, revealing Wonwoo in a simple white t-shirt and black shorts. His tousled hair falls gently over his eyes, which look so inviting that you can't help but want to run your fingers through them. When his gaze meets yours, you can't help but giggle at the look of disappointment that washes over his face upon realizing you’re not naked. With a grunt, Wonwoo mutters something quietly under his breath.

"Come sit with me," you respond before looking down at your iPad. The door clicks shut, and he approaches you. He stands beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts as he gazes down at you. "What made you invite me to your room, princess?" he inquires. "Please tell me we are finally doing the deed? Because I am so fucking ready."

You roll your eyes. "Why do you have to relate everything to sex?"

“If you didn't invite me here for naughty purposes, what for then?" He asks once he is seated next to you on the ottoman. "My father has hired a lawyer for me," you told him. "You know, to help me out with the marriage contract and stuff."

His eyes go round like saucers. "Fuck, we're getting married for real?"

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that," you reply dismissively. His gaze sharpens as he looks at you. "However," you continue, "if I decide to accept this arrangement, there are certain conditions that need to be met." You hand him your iPad. "Take a look at this. I thought it would be wise to go over it together before I send it to my lawyer."

On your iPad, there's a bullet-point list of your negotiation terms. They aren't phrased in legal jargon, but that's something for the lawyer to address, not you.

I get to finish my studies and find a job of my choosing here.

We move to a new place (preferably a villa and NOT haunted)

I want a pet pig.

He pauses his reading to gaze at you with a blank expression, as if he believes you’ve lost your mind.

"What? Pigs are intelligent, you know?"

"Where do you think you are? FarmVille?" he replies with a sarcastic tone.

"We could get a teacup pig!" you counter. "Have you seen them? They’re adorable and tiny!"

"There's no such thing as teacup pigs. They are just piglets and will eventually grow into a motherfucking pig. On top of that, they stink and poop like it's no one's business.” 

You lift your chin to meet his gaze. "How can you be so certain?"

"I know someone who breeds pigs," he replies. You pause for a moment, then reluctantly acknowledge that Wonwoo is correct; a fully grown pig can easily weigh around 300 kg, making it impractical to keep one in the house.

"Alright, I'll remove that option," you say, giving in. Wonwoo notices the slight pout forming on your lips and the disappointment etched on your face. He feels a twinge of guilt for disappointing you, and it tugs at his heart.

"Is there another pet you'd like to have?" he asks gently, adding, "Just nothing that belongs on a farm... or in a jungle."

You look up at him with bright, hopeful eyes. "What about a kitten or a puppy?" you suggest. Wonwoo beams at you. "We can definitely do that," he agrees, before turning his attention back to your iPad.

In the event of an extramarital affair, I have the right to leave the marriage. We got a divorce with no contest.

Wonwoo gazes at you once more, his expression a mystery. "Do you really think I would cheat on you?"

You find yourself at a loss for words. Having faced abandonment at a young age, you've learned to be wary of those around you. You've grown up convinced that people will eventually lose interest and leave, just like your parents did.

“I hope you don't take it the wrong way," you reassure him. "I'm not implying that you're untrustworthy; it's simply that I don't know you well enough to place my trust in you." A look of understanding crosses his face, and he nods. "That’s fair," he replies, redirecting his focus to the screen.

With a look of concentration, his lips purse as he studies the bullet points. You lean in to see better as he taps the edit icon in the bottom right corner of the screen, causing the keyboard to pop up, and his fingers begin to move.

In the event of an extramarital affair (never going to happen), I have the right to leave the marriage. As a penalty, 100% of Jeon Wonwoo's assets will be handed over to me.

You read and reread the section he has just revised. "Are you serious?" You stare at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "You're giving me complete ownership of your property?"

He nods with an ease that suggests it's no big deal to him. "Regardless of whether I have an affair, you’ll still receive fifty percent of everything I acquire from the moment you say yes."

If he’s attempting to entice you, it's working to some extent. You won’t deny that his offer is incredibly tempting. Wonwoo's assets are immense, and with that kind of wealth, you could finally establish a literacy organization and open those free schools you’ve always dreamed of.

"I'll have my lawyer prepare the prenup as soon as you make a decision," he states.

"Oh, okay," you mumble, still in disbelief.

"What’s next?" he mutters to himself, redirecting his attention to the screen.

"I want children, and I get to name all of them." You’ve pondered long and hard about including that clause. You know Wonwoo will tease you when he sees it, but you push your embarrassment aside. You've always wanted kids, and it's crucial that he supports the idea before you commit to marriage.

He raises an amused eyebrow, a smirk forming on one side of his mouth. "Babies, huh?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Why? Don’t you want kids?"

He shakes his head and turns to set the iPad down on the mattress behind him. When he looks back at you, you respond with a confused expression. "What does—" you mimic his earlier gesture, shaking your head, "that means?"

"It means if you want children, I can give you children. But there's an issue," he replies, crossing his arms over his chest. His biceps flex, and it's hard to ignore. Damn him. Stop staring! you scold yourself. Look up! You force yourself to meet his gaze. "What’s the issue?"

“How can we have children if you keep running away every time I get close?" he asks. "You won’t even let me touch you."

"I'm not going to run," you insist, looking away.

"I don't believe you." Determined to prove him wrong, you lift your chin and meet his eyes. "Try me."

A moment of silence stretches between you, creating a charged atmosphere. His gaze is dark and intense, hinting at something more intimate.

"Come sit on my lap," he finally says. Your eyes drop to his thighs, and you gulp nervously. Slowly, you rise from your seat and stand in front of him, glancing between him and his lap, hesitating.

Wonwoo watches you, his heart racing as you finally lower yourself onto his lap. Once seated, he places a hand on your back, resting his palm on the curve of your waist to steady you in case you move. This is the closest you’ve ever been, and he’s reluctant to let go. A stretched silence envelops you as Wonwoo studies your profile intently, while you glance down at your fingers, nervously twiddling your thumbs.

"What now?" You say, trying to defuse the awkwardness. 

“Put your arms around me, sweetheart," he softly whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The warmth of his low voice raises goosebumps along the back of your neck. Normally, you would scold him for calling you sweetheart, as it feels incredibly patronizing. However, these aren’t ordinary circumstances, and you find yourself too anxious to speak. Instead, you take a deep, shaky breath and press forward. As you encircle your arms around Wonwoo's shoulders, he gazes directly into your eyes.

If you are any other woman in this situation, he would have pulled you in for a kiss already. But you are not just any woman. And it doesn't help that he has no fucking idea whether you're attracted to him or not. He studies you for a moment, his own gaze is twitchy, showing slight hesitation. 

"Am I making you feel uncomfortable?" he whispers softly.

"Just a bit," you respond quietly. "But it's not a bad thing."

He maintains eye contact as he takes a deep breath. "If I were to touch you, would you push me away?"

"It depends on where you touch," you answer, your voice barely above a whisper. Noticing your tension, Wonwoo feels uncertain about where to begin. The last thing he wants is to frighten you away with his advances, but the urge to kiss you is so fucking strong. 

He keeps his gaze fixed on you. Gradually, almost hesitantly, he raises his hand and glides his fingertips along your jawline, cradling your face. "Is this alright?" he asks, searching your eyes.

His hand feels warm against your skin, and his touch is unexpectedly gentle. You let out a sigh and nod. "It's alright."

Wonwoo's lips curve into a smile, as if a weight has been lifted. "You have such a tiny face, baby," he muses, stroking the back of his thumb across your cheek. "It fits perfectly in my hand."

At this, you scoff. "Any guy would say something like, ‘You have such a beautiful face or lovely eyes.’"

"You know I'm not like any other guy."

"That's true," you reply, a soft smile gracing your lips. "I've never encountered anyone quite like you."

Only now do you realize how close your faces are. There's an unexpected tenderness and intimacy in his gaze, and to your own surprise, you find yourself enjoying it. You appreciate his affection.

"If you keep looking at me like that," he says, noticing your dazed expression. You blink, only to find yourself captivated by the intensity of his stare. "I'm afraid I won't be able to resist much longer."

"H-how am I looking at you?" you ask, as he gently brushes his thumb over your lower lip. "Like you want me to kiss you," he whispers.

Your heart races, and a warm blush spreads across your pale cheeks. He leans in, closer and closer, while your mind spins like a carousel. You realize you should push him away and say no, yet your body feels immobilized. It’s as if he has cast a spell, leaving you frozen in place.

The last thing you see before closing your eyes is how near his face is to yours, and then darkness envelops you as you feel the softness of his lips brush against yours. Stiff as a board, you’re surprised to find he feels just as tense. Neither of you moves your lips. This isn't what you envisioned kissing Wonwoo would be like; it almost feels like a first kiss again because you're unsure of what to do.

Should you open your mouth? Pull him closer? Or something else?

After a few seconds, Wonwoo finally pulls back. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, but it’s inscrutable. Your brows furrowed in confusion as you try to interpret the expression on his face.

Is he disappointed? Oh god, are you a bad kisser?

“It’s late,” he says somewhat coldly, avoiding your eyes. “I should probably head out now.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” you reply, quickly unclasping your arms from around his neck and sliding off his lap. Turning your back to him as you stand, you feel too embarrassed to face him after what just occurred.

You both exchange a brief goodnight without making eye contact and then he disappears from your sight.

𓂃۶ৎ

The past few days have been quite overwhelming for Wonwoo. Since his father announced his retirement, he has had to step up and assume the role of CEO at the company. This means he’s faced with an increasing number of meetings and engagements to attend. In fact, he is currently heading to his third meeting of the day. It’s frustrating because he’s unable to spend as much time with you as he wishes.

On a brighter note, things between you two have been progressing positively. Wonwoo has noticed that, for the first time since your arrival, your disagreements feel less like disdain and more like playful banter. Yet, he’s still uncertain about where you both stand at this moment.

What will happen when the three weeks come to an end? Will you pack your bags and leave, or will you decide to stay? Fuck.

The thought of you leaving hits him hard, like a punch to the gut. He confesses that he's developed strong feelings for you—intensely so. It may seem foolish since you've only been together for two weeks, yet you have become the first thought that crosses his mind when he wakes up and the last before he drifts off to sleep. Perhaps it's because you are gradually lowering your defenses around him, allowing him to see the authentic you.

He recognizes that your relationship with your parents has been complicated. Abandoned at a young age, you carry the weight of a broken heart. He can hardly fathom the pain you endured when your mother left and your father sent you away. He understands that these experiences have left you feeling rejected, unwanted, and often inadequate; it's no wonder you tend to be shy and reserved around others.

Everyone except him.

Regardless of whether you have positive feelings for him or not, he remains unaware of your true sentiments. One thing he does recognize is your fearless nature when it comes to expressing your opinions or calling him out when necessary; perhaps that’s why he enjoys provoking you so much. Although only a few days have passed, he already longs for the playful banter and friendly arguments you shared. He misses the mischievous sparkle in your eyes when you throw a comeback his way. He yearns for the delightful sound of your laughter when he succeeds in making you smile, feeling as if he has just achieved a remarkable victory. Yet, above all else, he simply misses you.

The last conversation you had was on the night he kissed you. And he fucking ruined everything. He was completely at a loss about what had just happened to him. He had never felt this nervous around a girl before. He knows he’s a great kisser, but the instant he pressed his lips against yours, it was as if he had never kissed anyone in his life. Still, his heart raced in overdrive every time he thought about how your lips felt against his. He could have performed much better, but there’s no use in dwelling on the past. All he knows is that the next time an opportunity like that arises, he promises to kiss you passionately and make it the best kiss you've ever experienced. And he hopes that next time comes soon because time is slipping away for the two of you.

𓂃۶ৎ

Wonwoo should feel relieved now that he has completed his business project, but instead, he feels a sense of unease. That’s why he chose to skip the company dinner and head straight home. As he drives, an overwhelming sense of dread washes over him, as if he knows something is amiss but can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

"Where is she?" he asks one of the housekeepers when he walks into the house.

"She’s been in her room all day, Sir," she replies.

Wonwoo quietly mutters a quick thank you before hurrying up the stairs. He walks down the dimly lit hallway, pauses at your door, knocks, and waits. When no response comes, he decides not to knock again. Instead, he pushes the door open and steps into your room. His gaze quickly lands on your bed, and he lets out a huge sigh of relief upon spotting the lump beneath the covers.

Is she already asleep? he wonders, glancing at his wristwatch, which reads five-thirty. That's quite early. He approaches the bed and stands beside it. Gently, he pulls back the covers, and his heart races when he finally sees you. Your face is mostly hidden by your hair, prompting him to brush it aside, only to be taken aback. Your skin feels incredibly hot to the touch, and your face is damp with sweat.

Wonwoo kneels beside the bed and presses the back of his hand against your neck. "Sweetheart," he calls softly. "You're burning up, baby. Are you okay?"

You murmur something he can't quite hear, and as he observes your lips moving, he notices that you are trembling uncontrollably. Oh fuck. Panic rises in his chest, and he immediately places his arms under your body to scoop you up.

You groan at the abrupt movement, your heavy eyelids fluttering open to meet his gaze. You appear taken aback. "Wh-what are you doing, Wonwoo?"

"I'm taking you to the doctor," he replies, keeping his eyes fixed ahead as he strides toward the door.

"Put me down, I'm fine."

"Don't argue with me," he counters, still not glancing at you. "I won't accept a refusal."

You roll your eyes. "You're acting like I'm having a heart attack or something… it’s just a fever, Wonwoo; it'll probably go a-."

Suddenly, Wonwoo halts and looks down at you with such a stern expression that it leaves you speechless. You blink up at him, feeling a bit flustered. "I'm taking you to the doctor, and that's final," he states, leaving no room for debate. With a frustrated huff, you finally concede, your lips pouting slightly.

Wonwoo felt a rush of warmth coursing through his veins. He inhaled deeply, battling the sudden desire to press his lips against yours. A sense of mild shame washed over him, knowing you were unwell and that he shouldn’t be having such thoughts. Perhaps it was just because he missed you so intensely because how does someone manage to look so goddamn kissable even when they are sick, it's ridiculous. Damn her.

"Can you at least put me down? I can walk just—" Your eyes widen as Wonwoo suddenly leans closer.

"Do I need to kiss you to shut you up?" he murmurs just above your lips. You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as he notices the blush spreading. A warm feeling fills his chest, and a smile appears on his face.

Beautiful little brat.

It has been a while since you last saw Wonwoo, and now he’s carrying you like a charming prince, convinced of his own charm. And now he’s even suggesting he’ll kiss you? You’re at a loss for words, your thoughts muddled and heavy.

As Wonwoo carries you down the stairs, you choose silence. A housekeeper gives you a concerned glance, and you manage a faint smile to reassure her that you’re alright.

“We’ll be out for a bit,” Wonwoo informs her as he strides through the open door toward the driveway where his car awaits. You remain silent even as he places you gently in the passenger seat and fastens your safety belt. He then walks around to the driver’s side, and you watch quietly as he starts the engine and secures his own seatbelt.

Despite your illness, his good looks continue to captivate you. Attraction is indeed a mysterious force. Seeing him in his work attire always ignites a spark, and now, with his suit jacket removed and only a white dress shirt on—buttons undone—it's even more potent. You also realize this is your first time witnessing Wonwoo drive; typically, it's been Mr. Lee, his chauffeur, who has taken you both around.

“Where is Mr—” You gasp, pressing your lips together as you suddenly remember his earlier words. Do I have to kiss you to shut you up? His voice echoes in your mind, causing your cheeks to flush once more.

Wonwoo glances at you, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. A moment later, understanding seems to wash over him, and he chuckles. "You can talk, baby. I'm not going to kiss you." He averts his gaze back to the road ahead. "Not now."

Not now...

As you attempt to compose yourself, a brief silence envelops the car. His words are making you increasingly nervous. You clear your throat and finally inquire, "Where is Mr. Lee?"

"His wife went into labor yesterday, so I'm giving him some time off." You don’t press for more details; you simply lack the energy to continue.

As the car halts at the first traffic light, Wonwoo glances at you. His expression softens as he takes in your frail condition. He gently reaches out to touch your forehead, wincing at the heat radiating from your skin. "Poor baby," he murmurs, lovingly brushing his knuckles against your cheek.

For reasons you can't quite comprehend, his tender gesture brings tears to your eyes; this kind of care is something you've longed for throughout your life.

"Are you taking me to the hospital?" you inquire.

He shakes his head lightly. "I'm taking you to Mingyu's clinic."

"Mingyu, as in your friend Mingyu?"

"Exactly."

Kim Mingyu is likely the most attractive doctor you've ever encountered. Not only that, but he is also warm and approachable. Just ten minutes into your appointment, you find yourself genuinely liking him. However, your feelings shift when he says, "I need to give you a shot to bring down your fever."

You don’t want to appear cowardly, but everyone has their fears, and for you, it's needles. This is why you never got your ears pierced, unlike everyone else. And why you were hesitant to visit the doctor.

Your face pales, and it must show because Doctor Kim is now smiling. "Are you scared?" he asks. You respond with a small nod and a shy smile. He chuckles. "What a cutie."

Almost instantly, Wonwoo clears his throat beside you. "Doctor Kim..." he says calmly, though it feels more like a warning than anything else. 

The tall doctor smiles to himself as he turns away to gather the necessary tools for your injection. Meanwhile, you nervously fidget with your thumbs, watching him pick up a syringe.

Wonwoo observes you the entire time, wanting to alleviate your anxiety but unsure how to do so. Despite his uncertainty, he gently places his hand over yours while his other hand softly strokes your back. When you glance at him, he offers you a warm and reassuring smile. "It's okay," he comforts you. "Just focus on me."

You follow his advice, and soon you feel a chilly sensation on your upper arm as Doctor Kim wipes the alcohol swab across your skin. Anticipating what's next, you shut your eyes tightly and hold your breath. You stifle a wince as the needle pierces your skin, refusing to sound like a child.

"All done," the doctor announces after applying a plaster to your arm. Opening your eyes, you see Wonwoo still watching you with concern. "Are you alright?" he asks, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

You manage a small nod. "I'm okay." Wonwoo smiles and gives you a gentle pat on the head. It's a simple gesture, yet it stirs all sorts of feelings within you. This prompts Mingyu to clear his throat, and you shift your attention back to the doctor.

"You'll feel better soon. You've just been really stressed lately," he says. "Let me write you a prescription for your headache, and then you’ll be good to go. Make sure to rest and try not to worry too much."

"I will, thank you, Doctor Kim."

He looks up from his prescription pad. "You can just call me Min—wait, how old are you again?"

"I'm twenty-one."

"Just like Hana," he smiles fondly, leaving you curious about her identity. "You can call me Mingyu oppa, then," he adds.

“Oppa my ass," Wonwoo snorted. "She doesn’t even call me oppa.”

"Well, that’s your issue," the doctor retorts.

"Are we finished or not?" Wonwoo asks impatiently.

"Here," the doctor hands you a piece of paper to take to the pharmacy. "Get well soon, pretty."

"Thank you, oppa," you tease, bursting into giggles as Wonwoo groans. He frowns at you. "I’m older than you too; why don’t you ever call me oppa?"

You shrug. "Maybe because you don’t act like one to me." The doctor snickers, while Wonwoo scowls. "What does an oppa behave like, exactly?"

"Like a man? I suppose."

He raises an eyebrow. "Are you implying that I act like a child?"

You flash him a playful grin, gasping as he hooks his foot around your stool leg and pulls you closer. With his arms brushing against yours, he leans in, whispering near your ear.

"Should I take you home and show you just how manly I can be?" he murmurs. Mingyu must have overheard because he started spluttering.

"You're disgusting, Wonwoo..." he coughs between words. Your face flushes bright red, and you smack him lightly on the chest in retaliation. Wonwoo grins at your embarrassment.

"Let’s head home, baby." He takes your hand and leads you toward the door.

"Wonwoo," the doctor calls just as he’s about to open the door. Wonwoo releases your hand and turns to face his friend. "Yeah?"

"Hana is back," Mingyu says.

A tense silence ensues as you glance between the two men. "Oh, how is she doing?" Wonwoo asks, his tone serious, heightening your curiosity.

Who is she? A friend, perhaps?

"She’s... she’s doing well," Mingyu replies. "We should catch up soon. Are you free to join us for the gathering this Sunday at Chan’s place?" You look at Wonwoo, waiting for his response. His silence suggests he’s unsure, maybe even reluctant.

"It’s been a while, Jeon; she really misses you," Mingyu encourages. "Joshua and the rest will be there too."

"Sure...," Wonwoo consents. "I’ll be there."

As he leads you out of the room, you notice a shift in his demeanor; he seems unusually quiet. Unable to hold back your curiosity any longer, you ask, "Who’s Hana?"

"His little sister," is all he replies. Your thoughts drift to this person named Hana. You picture her as beautiful, just like her handsome brother, and wonder about their relationship and why Wonwoo hesitated to accept Mingyu's dinner invitation. 

Did something happen between them?

While your curiosity is piqued, you remind yourself that it’s not your business. If Wonwoo wants you to know, he will tell you. So, you push those thoughts aside and head to the pharmacy to pick up your meds. By the time you leave Mingyu's clinic, the sky has darkened. Whatever the doctor injected must've worked wonders because you feel less lethargic as Wonwoo leads you to his car.

"You have a nice car," you say absent-mindedly, smoothing your hand over the sleek dashboard.

"Do you want one?" he asks, turning to gauge your reaction.

"Wh-what?" you squeak. How could he ask that so casually? This car must be incredibly expensive. But then again, this man is loaded. "No," you quickly add. "I don’t even know how to drive."

"You can learn," he replies.

Getting a driver's license is on your bucket list this year, and the thought of checking that off makes you excited. "Will you... teach me?" you ask hesitantly, considering how busy he has been lately.

"Of course," he says. "How about we start this Sunday?"

You can’t contain your excitement as you respond, "Okay."

He smiles at your enthusiasm, then hesitates, as if unsure about something.

"What is it, Wonwoo?" you encourage.

"Do you want to come with me to the gathering this Sunday night?"

"The one Mingyu invited you to?" you ask, tilting your head. He nods in agreement. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"I’d be thrilled if you could. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to my friends, but I know being around a group makes you uncomfortable. So, you don’t have to say yes if it doesn’t feel right."

You smile at his rambling, and he seems to realize it too, smiling shyly as he rubs the back of his neck. It’s a side of him you haven’t seen before—refreshing and endearing.

"Yes, Wonwoo, I’ll be there for you," you say willingly, knowing you might feel anxious that day, but also trusting that Wonwoo will be there. He returns your smile with gratitude. "Thank you."

The car falls into a comfortable silence as you gaze out the window, enjoying the night view of the city lights. There’s something romantic about it, and you swear you feel a flutter every time you catch Wonwoo’s reflection in the side window as he glances at you.

When the car stops at a red light, you feel the warmth of Wonwoo’s hand on your thigh, startling you. You look down at his hand, then back up to find his gaze fixed on you.

"What do you want for dinner?" he asks, lightly tapping your skin with his index finger. Amidst your nervousness, you focus and respond.

"Can we get McDonald's?"

"You're still sick, baby," he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze.

"Let’s get something healthier, okay?" You nearly start hyperventilating. You’re unsure about the sudden affection he’s showing today. All the contact feels intimate, making your stomach flip.

"Should we get something with soup instead?" he suggests, pulling you from your thoughts. "I know a place that serves great Samgyetang."

"Yeah," you nod. "That sounds good."

Wonwoo acknowledges that he’s being unusually touchy today, but he knows he has nothing to lose. Time is short, and with uncertainty looming over the next three weeks, he doesn’t want to waste any moments with you.

He can’t deny that his feelings for you have deepened, especially after spending the day together. This is why he needs to know if you're comfortable with his advances, as eventually, he wants more. First, he wants to kiss you, then take you to his bed and explore all the things he's dreamed of doing with you.

Baby steps. He reminds himself. You don’t want to scare her off. Presently, you and Wonwoo are in the lift, heading to the Korean restaurant on the top floor. He glances down at your hands, still intertwined.

"Truth or Dare?" he initiates. You look up at him and smile softly, warming his heart as he realizes you must have missed playing this silly game as much as he does.

"Dare," you choose. It’s not the answer Wonwoo expected, but that’s fine; he has a plan. With a slow smirk spreading across his face, he says, "Call me Wonwoo oppa." You make a face of disgust at his request.

"I changed my mind. Truth." Even better, Wonwoo thinks.

He looks down at your hands again. "Do you like this?" He lifts them to his chest. "Me holding your hand—do you like it?" You take a moment to think, wrestling with different answers before finally nodding and murmuring, "Yes."

Wonwoo feels like he’s just won a trophy. “I love holding your hand too,” he wants to shout in victory, but that would be too much.

God, this girl is driving me crazy.

Who would have thought that a guy like him would be so excited over something as simple as hand-holding? It’s not even about sex. He chuckles and shakes his head at himself.

You give him a curious frown. "Are you okay?"

"Do you miss Uni?" he deflects your question. "Your friends... they’re all in LA, right?"

"I do miss learning, but I don’t miss living there," you reply, a hint of sadness in your smile. "It’s quite lonely there."

Something about that tugs at his heartstrings. He doesn’t want you to feel lonely. "What about your friends?"

"I only have one close friend, Vernon." There’s warmth in your voice when you mention him. "But he’s not in the same classes as me, so we don’t see each other often. We call every day, though."

"That’s good," Wonwoo smiles. "You’ll make more friends this Sunday. Joshua and the others will probably bring their girlfriends."

You look unsure, and he senses your self-doubt. "They’re all good people," he assures. "You’ll like them, and I know they’ll like you too." Just like I do.

You smile shyly. "I hope so."

𓂃۶ৎ

Do you know that feeling you get when you are in the last chapter of a good book? That longing for more? That feeling of not wanting to say goodbye? You feel the same way when you walk down the hallway towards your room with Wonwoo beside you. Though it is rather presumptuous of you to say, you'd like to believe that Wonwoo feels the same way, too. Because even if he isn't talking, he is walking slower than usual, as if he doesn't want to say goodbye to you and to this night.

Today has been a special one for the both of you. A lot has happened in the past hours spent together. And if there's one thing you realize you realize that your feelings for Wonwoo are growing. There's no point denying it anymore because it is there. Although you can't help the fear that grips you every time you think about the possibility of him leaving. But is it so wrong to hope for a happy ending? For once you just want to throw caution to the wind and enjoy what is given to you in this moment.

"We're here," Wonwoo announces as we reach the end of the hallway where your room is.

You turn to stare up at him. "Thank you for today." you smile, leaving a moment of still silence before you add, "And dinner… I had a great time."

"Me too." The silence continues to stretch as he drops his gaze to your mouth and lingers. The butterflies in your belly started flapping their wings all at once. You watch as he swallows and somewhere inside, you're hoping he would kiss you or make a move of some sort. But… He lifts his gaze and lets go of your hand. "You should get some rest."

You feel a pang of disappointment at the sudden loss of contact. You're confused. One moment he is being all touchy, and the next moment he is pulling back like this.

"I’m going for a swim," He says. "I'll be at the pool if you need me."

You force a smile. "Good night, Wonwoo."

"Rest well, baby."

You enter your room and close the door behind you, exhaling. What was this sudden awkwardness and hesitation between us? You wonder to yourself as you walk into the bathroom.

After a long shower, you get in bed and try to get yourself to sleep but your mind doesn't seem to allow you to. You are still confused, and frustrated. And as you lay there in silence, it suddenly occurs to you that there is a possibility Wonwoo might think you're inexperienced when it comes to sex. You remember him asking about it before; if you're a virgin, and you had refused to answer. He must've thought so, of course, considering how you always get all shy and jitterish every time he touches you. 

You sit up in bed, a hopeful smile spreading across your face when every thought in your head seems to fall into place. So this is why Wonwoo has been so unsure to make a move. Because he doesn't want to scare you off. Because he is waiting for you to be ready. Something warm moves through your chest. 

What a sweet soul he is. Has he always been this way? Or are you only discovering this side of him because you've fallen for him?

You hop off the bed, feeling unsure and nervous, yet there's this longing so deep that it is making your heart pound. You've never moved so fast in your life as you hurry to change into your nude colored bathing suit before putting on a bathrobe. You give your appearance a quick check in the mirror before striding out of your room. Rushing down the stairs, you ponder through the things you are going to say to Wonwoo when you see him. In the midst of your nervousness, you can't think of anything. So you can only hope that you'll find the right words to say when you see him, soon.

The sliding door that leads to the backyard pool is left slightly ajar. You hear the splashing sound of the water as you step out into the open. The backyard is slightly dim but you easily catch sight of Wonwoo's naked back. Your gaze slides along his bare shoulders and you feel your stomach clenches at how broad his physique is. He has his upper arms stretched along the pool ledge, staring thoughtfully up at the starry sky. You wonder what, or who is in his mind at this very moment, and you find yourself praying that it is you he is thinking about. 

You glance down at yourself. Your hands, they are slightly trembling as you untie the knot of your robe, letting it fall freely over your shoulders to the ground. Staring down at your semi-naked self, doubt washes over you instantly. What if Wonwoo doesn't like what he sees. You are sure he has been with many women before, and for a guy as attractive as him, he must have high standards. You feel the sudden urge to run away, back into your bedroom and hide, but it's too late now because when you lift your head, you realize Wonwoo is already staring.

Your breath catches when you meet his eyes. He stares at your features first, then slowly, his gaze drops and drags down to your body, drinking every inch of you. The air around you suddenly feels so thick, and your heart nearly bursts as you watch the lump in his throat rise and fall.

You clear your throat softly to get him to look at your face, and he did. There is tenderness mixed with desire in his eyes, and you're both thrilled and unsure. 

"Can I join you?" your voice came out soft.

Wonwoo takes a moment to process your question, then he says, "The water is freezing, baby, I don't want you to get sick again." You press the back of your hand on your neck, checking your body temperature. "My fever has gone down. I'm feeling much better now.”

"Get in then." He says, turning his head around to face the water again.

You walk over to the poolside and lower yourself into a squatting position. Wonwoo feels your presence close to him that made him turn his head towards you again. He keeps his eyes on you as you dip your legs into the water before sliding your body in. The water rises all the way to your collarbone and you shiver at the sudden cold sensation that runs through your body.

"Told you it's cold," Wonwoo mumbles. "Come here, baby." He reaches for your hand underwater and moves you to stand with your back to him.

Butterflies take flight in your stomach. What surprises you most is when he wraps his arms around your waist as he hugs you from behind. “Better?” His whispers in your ear.

"Yeah," you breathe, and despite your racing heart, you let your body relax in his hold.

“I was hoping you'd come and you did." he rests his chin on top of your head. "Did you read my mind, mmh?"

You huff softly. "I can hear you calling my name from up there." Wonwoo chuckles. "Why did you come here though? Can't sleep?"

You hum, leaving a beat of silence before you confess, "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Me too." He says. "I think about you all the time.”

You let out a soft breath as a soft smile tugs at your lips. Here in the quiet, the beating of his heart sounded so clear in your ears, and so do yours. Glancing to your side and up, you find him gazing up at the sky again, seemingly in deep thoughts. In the dimness of the night, the moonlight illuminates his features, strands of wet hair fall over his forehead, and you take the opportunity to study his handsome face. Wonwoo musť've felt you staring because he is lowering his gaze to look at you now. You suddenly feel shy by his closeness, by the soft way he is staring at you. 

"What did you do these past few days when I was gone?" He asks out of nowhere, the question random as if he's trying to defuse the thick tension in the air.

"I did a lot of thinking and worrying..." you huff and shake your head. He turns you around to make you look at him. "Worrying about what?"

Your answer might come off silly to him but you decided to be honest. "I thought you were purposely avoiding me because of the kiss...because you didn't enjoy kissing me."

A frown marred his expression. "That's what you were worrying about?"

You show him a small embarrassed smile before dropping your gaze to stare at his chest. "Silly, I know."’

Wonwoo grips your chin and gently tilts your head up, making you look at him again. “That might not be the best kiss, I know, but I enjoyed it." He claims. "I enjoyed kissing you so much I want to do it again," He lowers his gaze to your mouth and swipes the back of his thumb over your bottom lip. "I want to do it now...if you'd let me…” 

You blink up at him, the surprise causes your lips to part a little. Wonwoo gazes at you expectantly, waiting for your approval. Then you nod, and that small gesture brings a soft smile to his face. He leans closer and weaves his fingers through your hair. Your eyes flutter close and the butterflies take flight in your stomach when he presses his lips on your lips.

Unlike the first time he kissed you, his mouth is moving more skillfully, more firmly this time. You slide your hands up to the back of his neck and return his kiss with equal passion. He groans into your mouth, the tip of his tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, and you part your mouth in an invitation. Without hesitation, his tongue slides into your mouth to meet yours, and you make a whimpering sound when he bites down on your lower lip, tugging at it as he groans. 

His hold around your waist turns bruising and he roughly turns you around to back you against the pool wall. You gasp when he presses his body closer to you, his hands sliding down from your waist to the back of your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, and your chest emerges from the water with the elevation. His hard on is now positioned against your womanhood, and your body reacts in pure instinct, grinding yourself against him with no inhibition. 

He grunts into your mouth and from there, the kiss quickly turns wet and dirty. You continue grinding yourself against him, and soon the ache between your legs is getting unbearable. You need more, but to your dismay, Wonwoo pulls his mouth away from you. 

You blink at him, panting and confused. "W-why did you stop?” His face is contorted as though he is restraining himself from something. What though?

"If we don't stop," he says, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I'll end up fucking you in this pool and I can't promise l'll be gentle with you, baby.."

“It's okay," your answer came so quickly it surprised him. You bite your lips in a shy smile. "I mean… you don't have to be gentle with me, Wonwoo."

"I don't want to hurt you…” He worries and you smooth your hands over his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. His eyes flared, and it's making your heart drums with nervous excitement. "I don't know if you know this but I’m not a virgin anymore, so you don't have to, you know, hold back with me."

Wonwoo looks more amused than surprised by your admission. The corner of his lips curled up into a grin. "Are you telling me you like it hard, baby?" Your cheek flares up and he lets out a huff when he notices it. 

"Is that why you came to me wearing this?" He lowered his gaze to your bathing suit. You nod. 

"Do you like it?"

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," One of his hands hikes up your waistline, cupping your breast before tugging the neckline of your bathing suit to the side until your nipple is exposed. 

You swallow heavily. "You're too good to be true, baby…" He glances up, watching you with heated eyes as he rubbed his thumb over your bud. "Do you like it when I touch you here, mmh?" He ended his question with a light pinch on your bud.

You expel a soft moan and Wonwoo takes it as a yes. He keeps his piercing gaze on you as he lowers his head to take your nipple into his hot mouth, his tongue twirling around the tip, teasing you for a while before he draws it in between his teeth in one long pull.

"W-Wonwoo.." you squeeze your legs tighter around his hips, feeling his erection poking deeper against your woman parts. The friction coaxes a low grunts out of him. He lifts his head from your chest to meet your gaze, his eyes smoldered with desire. His free hand is now coasting along your inner thigh, hiking up until his thumb is pressing over your underwear. He pulled the hem aside to reveal your pussy. 

"What about this?" He starts to rub his thumb over your clit continuously in a tormentingly slow manner.

"More..." you beg breathily. "Please...," a moan slips when he thrusts two fingers inside you, keeping his eyes on you as he fulfills your wish for more. Your inner wall clenches around his digit with each push.

"So fucking tight..." he murmurs low under his breath as he works his finger in and out of you in a lazy manner. "How long has it been since the last time you're fucked, baby?"

Through your lust-filled haze, you can't even bring yourself to think. So you thoughtlessly mutter, "It's been a while." 

His free hand trails from the side of your neck, up, to cup your face, "So delicate and beautiful," his voice thick, brimming with lust as he caresses your cheekbone. "Makes me want to protect and ruin you all at the same time," he let out deep chuckles. "Is that even possible?"

His hand disappears into your hair, and he leans in to kiss you sweet and slow, while his other hand continues to fuck your pussy, as sweet and slowly as his kiss. Although his touch brings pleasure to your body, it isn't enough to relieve that overwhelming ache between your legs, if possible, it only worsens it, making you more needy and desperate. So needy you start whining and moaning to beg for more. So desperate you start rocking your hips against his fingers to take control.

Wonwoo's fingers make a fist around your hair and he tugs it back, making your lips to detach from his. He looks into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. "Stop it or I'll stop." He warns you. 

You still and nod timidly, surprised to discover this dominant side of him, but even more surprised by your own submission. You didn't know you have it in you, considering how much you despise him ordering you around. But maybe it's different during sex, because you find it such a turn on when he takes control like this.

"Good girl," Wonwoo whispers his praise over your mouth. “Now tell me what you want, baby."

You drop your gaze to the hard-on underneath his black swim shorts. Although you can't see it well due to it being underwater, you can feel it damn well and Wonwoo gets the message. He hums and pulls his fingers out of your tight hole, causing a small gasp to fall from your lips. You loosen your thighs around his hips so he could remove his swim shorts. Your breathing slows when he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock. His jaw clenched as he gives it a few pumps before he slaps it hard over your pussy, drawing a lewd purr out of you.

Wonwoo brings his eyes up to stare at you, his dark pupils dilating. "I was planning to take it nice and slow today," He starts rubbing the tip of his cock over your slit and watches as you squirm against him.

"But you...God, you are one hell of a temptation to resist, aren't you?"

“Wonwoo, please.." your breath comes out ragged. "I don't think I can take it any- fuck!" The air is knocked out of you when he roughly slams his cock into you, stretching you so good you cry out a lewd sound of pleasure. You feel so full you can barely breathe, and he isn't even fully inside you yet.

Wonwoo drops his head to your shoulder and you feel his warm heavy pants fanning against your skin. "Baby, you're so tight my cock can barely fit," Wonwoo breathes out harshly and moans when you unconsciously squeeze around his cock. He lifts his head from your shoulder and plants his hand on the pool edge on each side of you.

Your heart nearly beats out of your chest when Wonwoo holds you in his gaze. His jaw is tight and you notice the bulging veins around his neck. He looks so masculine, so thoroughly turned on, and knowing that it is you who made him like this gives you a sense of ease and a little boost of confidence. 

Feeling bolder now, you lean forward to put your mouth close to his ear. "Wonwoo." you whisper, parting your lips to pull his earlobe in between your teeth. "Fuck me, please, I can't wait any longer…”

"Jesus," He curses roughly. And when you lean back to stare at him, the heat in his brown eyes is growing hotter. "Where is this side of you coming from?" You chew your bottom lip through a smile. "I think you bring it out of me.”

“Fuck, you're so hot," he says hoarsely, moaning a little when your pussy clenched around his cock. "Hold on to me, baby." He orders, so you do as told, sliding your hands up and slinging them around his shoulder. He presses his lips in a thin line as he slides his cock out of you, leaving just the tip inside you. And with a grunt, he slams his cock deep inside you, until you are hugging every throbbing inch of him. Your fingers dig into his back in a reflex as he lets out a low guttural sound from the back of his throat.

He leans forward to capture your mouth in a hard kiss, and then he is pounding into you, driving his dick deep inside you mercilessly. It almost feels like he's going to rip you apart because he is so big, and you'd never been fucked so hard like this. With each thrust, the water sloshes all around and you are pushed harder against the wall. 

You are a mess of moans and whimpers, and if it wasn't for the kiss that's muffling your lewd voice, you'll likely wake the housekeepers from their slumbers.

"How does my cock make you feel, sweetheart?" He whispers through a husky groan as he pumps his thick length in and out of you.

"So good," you say breathlessly over his mouth. "You make me feel so good, Wonwoo."

His thrusts are becoming quicker and harder now. He is fucking you as if he is losing control of himself, like he's a wild animal let loose of its cage. A beast unleashed. And it wasn't long until you feel that knot coiling up in your stomach

“Wonwoo," you panted heavily. "I-I'm close."

“I know, baby," He slips his hand under your stomach. He presses his thumb on your clit and pulls back to watch as he starts rubbing it aggressively. "Cum, cum for me."

A cry, almost a scream tears out of you as your body quakes and shudders against him. Your walls are convulsing around him but he didn't stop pounding his cock into you. Soon enough, you feel him swelling inside you as his orgasm nears. His long, guttural groan sounded in your ears, and with one last thrust, he jerks against you and unloads his cum into your pussy. 

“Fuck," Wonwoo grunts harshly before he slumps into you. He drops his head to your shoulder as breathes heavily. Your thighs loosen around his hips and you drop your legs to the pool tiles, too languid to hold them up. As you try to moderate your breathing, reality begins to sink. Wonwoo has just cummed inside of you, without protection. Fear grips you tight in your chest. 

"Wonwoo," you pat on his back and speak into his ear. "...we didn't use a condom."

He lifts his head, his chest inflating and deflating as he tries to regain his composure. "Don't worry, I'm clean." He finally says.

"It's not that," you explain. "I'm not on the pill." Wonwoo considers it calmly, as if you didn't just tell him the 'news' most men fear the most. 

"One time is probably okay." He assures. "But if you end up pregnant, I promise I'll take care of you...and our baby."

Your heart soars. "Our… baby?" you voice out softly, half in disbelief, half liking how the words sounded when he said it. 

"I just filled my sperm in your vagina, whose baby would it be if it's not ours?"

Your body shook as you laughed. No one you know has ever used the word 'sperm' and 'vagina' in a sentence. God, you really adore this funny and sexy man. You give him a smile. "You know it's funny how we do things the reverse way."

"Reverse way?"

You nod. "Usually, people fall in love first before they get married and make babies, but for us...it's the other way around."

"I don't think so," Wonwoo disagrees. "Because I think l've passed the first step."

"First step?" you ask. "What do you mean?" His answer is to lean in and kiss you. Sweet and softly. A complete opposite to the wild pool sex the two of you just had. The kiss lasted for a while before he pulled back to stare at you. His eyes hold so much emotion that it is making your heart rate go overdrive.

"When I got home today," He starts. "for a moment there, I had this bad feeling that you were gone, that you left me... and it scared me so much, baby." The expression in his eyes is something close to pain. "I know we don't have much time together, and I know if you decide not to marry me, I can't force you to stay...but if you leave, sweetheart… I'd be so broken because you,'" He sucks in a shaky breath. "You're starting to mean everything to me.”

You're starting to mean everything to me…

Your eyes roam over his face to search for any trace of mischief, or deception maybe, but there's none. He is being truthful. God. You are hit by a wave of emotions so intense you know you will likely burst into tears. "I..." Your lips part and unpart, trying to form a word but nothing comes out.

A look of understanding laces his eyes and he smiles. "It's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to say anything if you're not ready.” 

Unlike Wonwoo, you are not someone who is good at expressing your feelings. But he has just shown you parts of him, and you know it is only right if you do too.

“I can't give you an answer yet because... honestly, I don't know it myself," you explain. "Marriage is a big thing and needs time to figure things out, Won," your hand moves up to cup his face. 

"What I can tell you is, you mean something to me, and the thought of losing you scares me too." That brings a hopeful smile to his face. "Does that mean you'll stay?" He asks.

"Yes, Wonwoo." you return his smile. "I'Il stay as long as you want me to.”

𓂃۶ৎ

[joffyworld]

FURTHERMORE,

PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD,

IGNORE THE NUMBERS

They mean nothing.

One thing I forgot to mention is that there's this expectation some people I've spoken to have that if their post doesn't do its usual numbers of notes or comments or likes, whatever the platform you're on uses, then it wasn't "worthwhile" or people "didn't like it".

Dude. Bro. Girly. They. It.

Whatever notes you get, whether it's 10k or 1 is a genuine life touched. People don't come on here and reblog or share or like without having felt something. Okay, yeah, sure, maybe you didn't explode and reach 50 thousand people and they didn't all simultaneously explode from excitement.

BUT THAT'S OKAY.

Social media platforms are designed around algorithms to push content they assume people want to see. Quite frankly, however, these algorithms suck balls. Tumblr might be one of the better in terms of posts reaching audiences and old posts gaining recognition for a long time after they were posted, but it's still just a computer throwing shit on a screen.

I see, and talk to, a lot of artists that feel they can't OC post or that they have failed because "my usual audience size didn't all see the post I made" when there's a dozen things beyond their control that affect whether or not people even know they've uploaded. Here's a short list of shit that can affect whether or not your post is seen by the average joe:

Tags

Notes

Fandom or OC

Followers

Time of Day

The weather outside

The Algorithm™

Luck

Hype around a fandom at a given time

Trends

A total of ONE of these you can control, being the tags. You have literally no say whether your post does well or not, at it SHOULDN'T MATTER. As discussed in the original post, do art for you! These numbers are genuine people behind a screen that have felt touched by what you have made. It doesn't matter whether that's one person ever, or a million people at once. People were altered even in the smallest ways by your creation, whether it was a smile or a happy cry, and that's beautiful. That's what art is, an expression of self that others can find comfort in when shared. But the key words are "EXPRESSION OF SELF." Not what the audience wants, not what God wants, but what you want.

Let me put it this way:

If you open a hospital, and are used to treating a million people a day but then suddenly have a day where only 5 people show up in need of help, is that a bad day? Or is it just good that people didn't need help? One day they might and you'll still be there because hospital equipment doesn't just vanish into thin air one day.

Audiences will see your work when they need to, and when they don't they won't. There's no two ways about it, you're fighting impossible odds if you try to make it any other way. So just let it be, do art for you and fuck everyone else. Because ultimately, the only person you're fucking by doing otherwise is yourself, and the world does plenty of that for us by default.

So go ahead, OC post! Create porn! Create the most angst-riddled depressing shit you possibly can! Don't worry about whether or not it'll do numbers and blow up big, because it doesn't matter! All that matters is that you had fun, and every life you touch with your work is a genuine human connection made over impossible distances that otherwise would've never occurred. Even posting this I'm speaking to people all the way from China to Mexico.

Will they see it? Who knows! But it doesn't matter, as long as one person sees it then that's a good thing. If nobody sees it that's great too! It means nobody needed to, so the world didn't need more lecturing on how to be happy.

Live life folks. No matter who you are, someone loves you, whether they know it yet or not, whether you know it yet or not.

Thank you for coming to my inane rant, have a good day! :D

From,

Jofferson

DO ART FOR YOU! 🫵

FUCK EVERYONE ELSE!!!

Seriously.

I'm so sick and weary of logging on here and seeing creators I adore, and people I don't even know alike, apologising for not uploading or basically begging for a break like they're not a human with needs.

You're literally a human being, with thoughts, feelings and emotions. You're not an art factory, you're not some positivity pump, you're nothing other than a genuine human being living a genuine life experience.

SO GO LIVE IT!!!

YOU OWE THE INTERNET NOTHING!!!!

There should be, and realistically is, no shame in just fucking leaving if you want to. There's no contract you signed, there's no permit you bought or lease you hold. You're a person who decided to share their art with the world, FOR FREE, and garnered an audience of faceless people behind screens who enjoy that art because YOU wanted to make it and share it.

Let me be frank as best I can. You owe the internet nothing, you owe the world nothing and you owe yourself EVERYTHING. You are the only person who can live your life, you are the only person who can create the things you create and you are the only motherfucker that should matter to you when you create those things.

Art is supposed to be a wondrous joy that inspires the mind and indulges ideas that other creatures can't even comprehend. It's supposed to be a magical and fun fantasy land where anything is possible because you make it possible. It's not a 9-5 unless you make it one, so stop making your hobby a 9-5 unless you're getting paid for it, and even then put in limits because no job that you choose to do should end in you burnt out and wishing you'd never started in the first place.

Remember when we were all kids? When we all drew and wrote for fun simply because we could? We'd show people are shit and be like "Mama look!" and she'd clap her hands all proud. But she wasn't why you picked up that crayon, you just did it for you because you wanted to make some shit.

That's how it should be. That's how it is unless you let those fake ass numbers on a screen rule your life. It's all meaningless, the praise may be genuine but that doesn't mean you should spend your whole life running in circles and performing for an audience.

Be a human being! Be an artist! Fuck everyone else!

Just be yourself <3

[blxxdsex]

"The genius, Michael Gavey." - Michael Gavey x Reader.

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, masturbation, foul language, loss of virginity, cum control.

English is not my first language, so I hope you will forgive me if there are any mistakes.

It’s not as if anyone’s queuing up to see what’s behind those smudged glasses or that same red sweater he pulls on every Monday. And that's fine. Honestly, it is. He's made peace with it. It’s their loss, isn’t it? That's the mantra he clings to, the thread keeping his fragile ego intact: They're the ones missing out. And God, doesn’t he need to believe it.

Michael’s good at a lot of things, and he knows it. Brilliant, really. Genius, if we're being honest. Maths? Please—he’s never even touched a calculator. Numbers are his domain, his sanctuary, the one place where he feels entirely at ease. Books too—though never fantasy; he’d rather lose himself in something real, something concrete. But everything else? Social skills? A complete disaster, really. Painful to watch.

When you arrived in Oxford, it hit him hard. Why? Because even when he was buried in the silence of the library, there you were, watching him. Always watching. Maybe intending to read a book—upside down, no less—or lounging with your legs thrown over a table, headphones blaring as if you couldn't care less about the world around you.

Michael Gavey isn't used to being seen. For fuck’s sake, he’s Michael Gavey. Nobody. Invisible, as he’s always preferred. But then you came along, and suddenly, invisibility wasn't an option. You became something else entirely: a problem, a distraction, a bloody nuisance he couldn’t seem to get rid of. And maybe, deep down, that’s what scared him most.

So, naturally, his response was to start staring back. Maybe if he leaned into being a proper weirdo, you’d back off. But no, of course not. You didn't flinch. You just stared right back, unwavering, unbothered. It didn't take long for one of the teachers to step in, warning him, of all people, to knock it off. And you? You just smiled. Smiled like you'd won some secret, twisted game, baring all your teeth like a predator who'd just cornered its prey.

When he squinted at you, furrowing his eyebrows in some attempt to decode whatever the hell was going on, you simply glanced at the table, still grinning like you had a secret you were dying to keep.

What was your problem? Were you planning something? Was there a game being played here, something sinister he couldn’t quite see? The questions clawed at him, gnawed at his focus, and yet, no answers came. Only that smile. God, he hated it.

Things weren't improving, no, they were deteriorating rather quickly. And it all took a turn for the bizarre when, in the dead of night, he awoke still half hard, with his shorts drenched in cum and his mind? Cluttered with vivid memories of a particular dream from the previous night. Never had he scrubbed a piece of clothing with such fury in his life; this treacherous body was doing him in. And the most egregious part? His cock was a bloody jest, because even after such mortification, he had to wank off once more just to make the torment subside.

That day, the Oxford corridors felt like they were smoldering beneath him, each step fueling the inferno inside his chest. His sneakers might as well have been on fire for how much he burned with rage. And then he saw you, loitering by your locker, looking infuriatingly calm as always. It was like you wanted to drive him insane.

He stormed over, slamming your locker shut with a single hand, his nostrils flaring like he was ready to tear you apart—not literally, of course. Well, maybe a little. He was unraveled, utterly tormented, and you? You were only making it worse.

“Stop.” The word came out flat, almost pitiful, his voice cracking under the weight of his irritation. His blue eyes, usually so sharp, were clouded and bloodshot, as if they’d been scorched by his fury.

“With what?” you asked, tilting an eyebrow, that insufferable smirk tugging at your lips. Carefree. Effortless. It made his teeth grind in pure frustration. He didn’t even understand why he felt so unhinged—just that he did.

“What the hell do you want?” he barked, his voice echoing down the corridor. Heads turned, a few people pausing to glance at the scene, but you didn't so much as flinch. No fear, no embarrassment. You just leaned lazily against your locker, staring at him down like you had all the time in the world.

“Your number, to start with, would be great.” The words hit him like a physical blow. His pupils dilated so fast it felt like the world had tilted. If darkness swallowed everything right then and there, he was convinced he’d still see you.

And that’s when everything shifted. You weren’t messing with him—not in the way he’d thought. No, you were interested in him. The realisation hit Michael like a slap, and even then, his perpetually self-loathing brain struggled to piece it all together. For once, his stupid mind was just that: stupid.

But then the messages started, tentative at first, and something clicked. You actually got on—really got on. It was strange, almost unnerving, how much you seemed to have in common. You liked some of the same nerdy things as him, and he found himself listening to bands he’d previously written off because you mentioned them. Slowly, the conversations moved out of his phone and into the library, where you started sitting at the same table.

People noticed, of course. Curious glances trailed after the two of you, some even daring to linger when Michael—Michael Gavey, of all people—was caught smiling. Not a smirk or a grimace, but an actual smile, albeit half-hidden behind his hand. But it was there, and for once, he didn’t mind. Not entirely.

And then, on a Friday night when everything seemed eerily serene, the text message arrived. 'Do you want to come to my dorm?' Panic ensued. Perhaps it's a tad presumptuous to assume you want to fuck him, isn't it? Yet, he was presuming precisely that. But the truth is, Michael has only kissed one girl in his entire life; otherwise, his knowledge comes from pornography, books about the human anatomy, and the hushed conversations in the men's locker room. And it's not that he didn't want to; in fact, he wanted to, desperately so, but the truth was that no one seemed sufficiently captivated to offer him the chance. But you, you were offering. Maybe. What does one do with that?

He took a shower, donned his usual jeans and a white shirt, slipped on his sneakers, and even spent time before the mirror wrestling with his blond hair, to little avail, of course. He decided he wouldn't be a coward; he had this chance, maybe, and he wouldn't squander it with timidity. He made his way to the girls' dorm on campus, garnering more than a few disdainful looks from the passing girls. It was just because it was him; if it were Felix sneaking in, they'd be all smiles. But who cares? There was only one person he hoped would truly appreciate his presence. He reached your door, his breath caught in his throat, and knocked so feebly that perhaps he thought you wouldn't even hear. Pathetic, honestly.

But you heard him, and when you opened the door, he froze for a moment. You'd just taken a shower; your skin was still slightly flushed from the hot water, wearing an oversized shirt, once black but now faded to grey, and some pajama shorts that honestly looked more like his underwear than actual shorts. He swallowed hard, managing a crooked smile. You leaned against the doorframe, your smile much more genuine.

"You came." The words slipped from your lips with such ease, rolling off your tongue with a genuine satisfaction that straightened his crooked smile.

"Yeah, well. It's not like I have anything better to do, of course." His reply lacked the sharpness he'd rehearsed in his mind, accompanied by a glance at the floor and a stupid, silly smile.

"Yeah, of course." You laughed, rolling your eyes, and turned your body to give him space to enter, if he wanted to, though he looked as if he might bolt at any second.

But he didn't run away; no, he actually stepped inside. The room was like most others, yet he was struck by how orderly it was. Like any typical dorm, there was the TV, the two single beds, a small table, and in the corner of an adjacent smaller room, the bathroom. The scent of cleaning products lingered, indicating you'd taken the time to tidy up before inviting him over. This shouldn't have pleased him as much as it did, but it did.

"Just take off your sneakers before you lay on the bed," you said with that nonchalant tone of yours, picking up the TV remote from the table.

He glanced at the paused movie on the screen before turning his attention to the bed. His mind wasn't exactly racing as he sat down, beginning to untie his sneakers, but his focus soon shifted to the side of your face. He was transfixed by how your hair framed your features, how your lips were so perfectly shaped, and how your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. He had to run a hand over his face, nearly knocking off his glasses, to bring himself back to reality, blinking several times to refocus on removing his sneakers.

"I chose 'Evil Dead,' but they didn't have the classics." Your voice drew his gaze upward again. You casually made your way to the bed beside him, practically throwing yourself down, causing the mattress to bounce. "Is that a problem for you?" you asked, turning to look at him, your eyes locking with his.

His throat visibly tightened as he swallowed, while you didn't even blink. For a moment, he found it a rather amusing jest. What could a girl like you, with the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, with lips that curved into the brightest smile he could imagine, possibly want with him? He was either the luckiest bastard in the world or the biggest delusional of the year. But that was fine, at least for now.

"No, it's not a problem at all," Michael mumbled, unsure if he was referring to the movie choice or something else entirely. But it would suffice either way.

He saw you smile widely, and you felt you should, noticing his blue eyes dilate behind his glasses. Looking down where you had crossed your legs beneath you, you tried to focus and simply pressed play on the movie. The low noise from the TV soon filled the room, the colors of the film painting your faces and reflecting in Michael's glasses. The silence was comfortable, as always. The sounds of calm breathing filled the space, but well, his eyes weren't really on the TV; they were on you. To the point where he had to rest his hand on his face, just to appreciate it, perhaps.

"You know, watching a movie works better when you're looking at the screen," you commented, your eyes still fixed on the screen, though you felt the heat from his gaze on your cheek.

"I prefer to watch you." His words were barely above a whisper, but they reached you, making your smile widen even more.

Your eyes flicked to him, while his remained steady, though he felt his palms sweating against his cheek. He was nervous, and his attempt at an impassive expression wasn't fooling you. The words that left his lips were just truths, and seeing you smile, it was good to see you smile, it brought a subtle curve to his own lips. Sighing, you drew your knees up to your chest, resting your chin there, unsure of what to make of his words or of him. Just as he was unsure of what to make of you or how much you unsettled him.

"I hate almost everyone here except you." Your words mirrored his in tone, quiet, perhaps too intimate to slip out.

They made him pause, just looking at you, wondering. Time seemed to stand still, the screams from the movie not reaching your ears; things were quiet, almost silent. And that's when his hand rose, wrapping around the back of your neck, perhaps with the most courage he'd ever mustered in his life. Your lips parted slightly when you noticed him shifting on the bed to get closer, and you responded in kind, leaning towards him, your hand hesitating before also reaching up to the back of his neck, slipping between the golden strands to hold him firmly. Bringing your faces close, your breaths began to mingle, and soon all that was reflected in his glasses were your lips, all his attention focused solely on them.

"You're trouble, and you want to know why?" Michael whispered, your gaze falling to his lips as they formed the words. They were thrown at your face, raw and direct. "Because it seems like after I met you, there's been something wrong with my brain." He lifted his thumb to trace your bottom lip, as if to commit it to memory.

"Yeah?" Your response lacked strength, not truly. "That's good, because it seems like after you I'll never be the same." Whispering another confession, now it seemed more than fitting, even with your breathing too rapid to say much more, or what you truly wanted to.

A faint smile touched Michael's lips, perhaps an attempt at composure before he leaned in closer. Tilting your heads in opposite directions, your noses brushed against each other, the taste of each other's breath mingling on your lips, shared. His lips were the first to part, capturing your lower one slowly, almost tentatively, until yours responded, capturing his upper lip. The kiss started slowly, your lips moving together with an unhurried grace, despite your quickening breaths at the contact. His free hand found your waist, attempting to pull you closer, while your hand tangled in his hair, gripping it almost in a fist.

But it wasn't enough, far from it. Leaning forward, Michael guided you both down onto the bed, supporting himself with each hand on either side of your head, positioning his body between your legs, which parted to welcome him. One of his hands slid down to your thigh, lifting it and pressing it against his side, your hips naturally seeking each other, and his already hardened cock brushed against your increasingly aroused intimacy. Sounds escaped between kisses, your hands sliding to grip his back, when Michael pressed your bodies together again, rolling his hips and drawing out a sly moan from his own lips, making it difficult to continue kissing you.

Your hands reached for the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it up, but his hands caught yours, pinning them above your head, fingers intertwining there, as he pulled back just enough to look you squarely in the eye. His heavy breathing made his chest rise and fall, sweat causing his glasses to slide down his nose.

"I..." the words seemed reluctant to escape as he gazed down at you, your lips flushed and your chest heaving. He didn't want to dissuade you, but he had to say it. "I've never done that."

Your only response was to lift your head from the bed, seeking his lips and succeeding in a gentle capture, with him lowering himself to return the kiss. Though not deep, your teeth nipped at his lower lip, tugging gently, perhaps trying to draw him closer. Your fingers pressed against his above your head, yearning to be free, you just wanted to touch him, feel him, it didn't matter if he was inexperienced, if you had to guide him step by step, or if this was all you would have, feeling him like this above you.

"Just touch me, I don't care," you murmured against his lip, without the strength for more words, which in response prompted him to roll his hips against yours again, closing his eyes with a moan, just as your head tilted back, lifting your hips to meet his movement.

His hands released yours, and you quickly grabbed his shirt, pulling it up and off him, and he reciprocated, lifting yours inch by inch until he could pull it over your head. Without a bra, your breasts were bared to him, making him pause. His lips went dry as he took in the sight of your hardened nipples, ready for attention, despite his momentary hesitation. You saw it in his eyes, in how they flickered to meet yours, and your hand reached to caress his cheek before grabbing the back of his neck, gently guiding him toward your chest, arching off the bed to ensure he understood your consent.

And he understood more than clearly, leaning down to kiss the space between your breasts before moving to one, enveloping it with his mouth entirely, using his hand to squeeze it firmly. The sensation of your skin against his mouth elicited a low sound from him that vibrated through your body, prompting you to grind your hips against his already hard cock. His tongue followed, swirling around your nipple, sucking as if his life depended on it. His mouth salivated, saliva running down your chest, glistening your skin with his essence. His free hand went to your other breast, squeezing it tightly, his lips trailing kisses to the other side, his tongue sliding along until it reached your other nipple, circling it with fervent enthusiasm.

"Fuck," you murmured, your intimacy throbbing, squeezing as you leaned on the bed to create friction against his erection, making him to bite the nipple in his mouth to stifle a loud moan.

His lips left your chest, observing the glistening, swollen flesh from his attentions. His eyebrows furrowed at the sight, going straight to his core. He looked down to where his hardness met your shorts, stopping himself from climaxing right there, taking deep breaths.

"Tell me..." his words trailed off, his lips struggling to draw in breaths. "Tell me how to be good for you." His whisper was broken, he was too far gone to really care about it.

You smiled, even in the throes of your overwhelming need for him. One of your hands took one of his, slowly guiding it to your core, and he watched intently as you slipped it inside your shorts and soaked panties, biting his lip as his expression contorted with pleasure. Slowly, you positioned his fingers perfectly over your clit, starting to move them in circles, making your breathing quicken further. Fortunately, Michael was a quick learner, or perhaps just desperate enough. Your fingers left his as he took over, moving them faster, circling over your soaked clit. You tried to reach for his hardness in his pants, but with his free hand, he caught yours and pinned it to the bed.

"Don't." The words came out swiftly, a desperate command because he knew well that if you touched him, he would cum right then and there.

You accepted it, not attempting to touch him again. Feeling his fingers slide over and over your most sensitive spot, the sounds began to fill the room, the wetness so intense it seeped through your pajama shorts, and he could hardly believe his incredible luck. His eyes moved to your face, noticing your parted lips, your cheeks flushed red, and your breasts, still glistening from his saliva, seeming to beckon him. One of your hands gripped his wrist, and he could see from your expression how close you were. The hand that had been holding yours to the bed released it, moving to the back of your neck, lifting your head to make you look down.

"Watch," he murmured, sliding his thumb perfectly over your clit, and you felt like stars were bursting behind your eyes even as you complied and stared.

You saw his hand moving inside your shorts, the veins in his forearm pulsing with the effort, the muscles there flexing. His hand held you tightly, almost encompassing your neck. And when his fingers started moving side to side, you knew you were finished. Your lips parted completely, a groan trapped in your throat escaped, you tried to throw your head back but his grip prevented it, and then, your walls clenched, he could feel the pulsing around his fingers, your belly flexing as you reached your climax, clamping your legs around his forearm.

Your body goes limp on the bed, your thighs still trembling as his hands slide from your neck down to your thighs, smearing his taste there. He grips the hem of your shorts, pulling them down along with your panties. When his eyes meet your pulsing, glistening pussy, a sigh escapes him, eyes closing momentarily to regain control. You hear the sound of his pants being unzipped, him kicking them off along with his underwear. Your eyes open just in time to see him grip the base of his cock, bringing the head to your sensitive clit, eliciting a tight, desperate moan from you.

"You're so beautiful." he murmurs, dragging the precum-slick tip of his cock across your clit, making your walls clench as he watches. His free hand runs down the inside of your thighs, ensuring they're coated in your own wetness.

He squeezes his eyes shut in pure ecstasy, rubbing his cock from your clit to your entrance, gripping the base tightly to stave off his climax. Your thighs tremble, your hands gripping the sheets, but nothing seems to alleviate the intensity, there's no escape. You're consumed, completely. Your hips start to move desperately for contact, even as your body protests, your fingers threatening to tear the sheets apart. He rubs once more, the almost sinful sounds echoing off the walls, mingling with his low moans and the contractions of his stomach. You can tell he's doing everything in his power not to cum.

"Can I?" He opens his eyes to whisper, looking directly into yours, and with no strength left to speak, you simply nod.

He sighs deeply before positioning himself at your entrance and pushing inside, feeling your walls resist yet yield as he presses in until fully seated, your groins meeting. A drawn-out moan escapes your lips as his head falls back, a soft groan leaving his throat followed by a sequence of breaths that made his entire body tremble. Michael pauses, trying and failing to calm his racing heart and the overwhelming sensation of your hot, tight insides. Leaning forward, he rests one hand on the bed while the other removes his glasses, setting them aside. Your hands rise to the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to yours, holding it there as he makes the first thrust. Both of your lips part, your moans and breaths mingling.

His thrusts were deep, yet slow. He would withdraw almost completely before sliding back in, each time making your eyes squeeze shut tighter and your head press against his. The sweat on your foreheads seemed to meld you together, turning you into one entity. His eyes opened, burning into your face, and you met his gaze, your eyes filling with tears of pure pleasure as he thrust even deeper.

"I like you," he murmurs, cupping your cheek as his other hand grips the headboard, making the wood creak. A smile graces your lips, almost cut off by his cock sliding in deeper.

"I like you too," you manage to reply between ragged breaths, your fingers tightening around the back of his neck as if it's your lifeline.

He brings his lips to your forehead, giving you a long, lingering kiss, his breath warm against your skin. Then, he brings his hand to your mouth, and with that signal, he starts thrusting with all he has, making you scream into his hand, which hopefully muffles the sound. He rests his own mouth there to also muffle his moans, feeling sweat run down every part of his body, mixing with yours. The bed bangs against the wall, your eyes roll back when he hits that sweet spot inside you, your hands lifting to dig your nails into his back. As your walls clench around him, he feels your climax spill out, soaking the sheets and his lower abdomen. With a louder moan, he quickly pulls out, his cock spilling his cum over your belly.

He releases your mouth and the headboard, letting his full weight rest on you, his head finding solace in the crook of your neck. Your arms encircle his neck, keeping him close as your entire body trembles with the aftershocks of pleasure. Both of you are exhausted, both satisfied. Michael's thoughts drift back to the early weeks of knowing you, how he wished you would vanish, and now, how he dreads the thought of you leaving, like everyone else. The irony might have drawn a bitter laugh from him if he weren't so physically spent.

"I wasn't bluffing," you hear him murmur into your neck, capturing your attention amidst the sensations still coursing through your body. You slowly turn your head towards him.

"What?" you whisper, perhaps fearful that even a slight increase in volume might make this moment slip away, just as much as he is. His eyes, those blues that most people overlook, capture your senses.

"I really like you." Hearing those words again, this time not in the heat of the moment, did something different to you stomach, perhaps quickened your heart more than the entire act itself, burned your skin more than anything else.

Drawing him closer with your hand, you adjust his position so he lies on your chest, where he places a gentle kiss. Your fingers delve into his hair, and you cast a brief glance to the side where his glasses still rest. A smile graces your lips because the truth is, you are utterly and hopelessly in love with the genius Michael Gavey. The irony is that he doesn't seem genius enough to realize it.

[naoyoki]

can we get reader who ran away from home and is living on the streets and then toji stumbles into her after he got some stuff from the 7/11 and feels bad so he offers her to stay at his rundown apartment for a bit (can you add in some smut perhaps 🤭)

a/n : of course belleza !

✦★mdni , some angst , smut , afab!reader , loss of virginity implied , face fucking , cunnillingus , thigh biting , marking , fingering , oral , implied curse au .

PINNED PREVIOUSLY

"i don't have a home," your gaze was low, afflicted with guttural shame that twisted and churned at your stomach, or maybe it was the hunger, "not anymore, at least."

the man in front of you, frankly, made you pee your pants out of complete fear. yes, this man might be handsome, but he was menacing nonetheless. there were moments you had crossed paths, and the neon light of the 7/11 proved his features to be eerie. not his actions though, he wasn't around much but whenever he did he placed some food in front of you, and left without a word. but for whatever reason, he stayed today and began to...chat?

"haven't you asked for a job at the convinient store?"

you scoff, "don't you think i have already tried?" taking a fat chunk of the sandwich this bizarre man gave you, you continued, "they think i'm a junkie or something."

he crouched to your level, green eyes merging with your own, "you don't look like one though."

you laugh, even though it was muffled due to your full mouth, "because i'm not."

"want a job?"

you stop, ".....what—mmmgh, what kind of job?" you were homeless and poor, but your dignity and integrity was yet to be mangled. and if you had to run for your life in a few seconds because this guy turned out to be a psychopath, so be it.

"i need someone to clean my house, since i'm not home a lot. you up for it?" you exhaled your worries away. thank god it wasn't something fucked up! but hold on.

"you're...not gonna kill me, are you?" your words make him drop his head while he chuckles.

"not wasting my time with murder, c'mon." he extended his hand once he rose from the ground. your hand twitches in hesitance but nonetheless accept this kindness.

it took some months to adjust to toji's rhythm. he would come to his apartment, which wasn't anything pretty but livable nonetheless, spend three or four days around, then leave for weeks. his actions were completely shady in nature.

but with these months flying by, your relationship deepened. one summer night, when fireworks ignited the sky, you two had a heart to heart. conversations of sorrow, grief, and longing for life to be different turned into a hug and tear wiping, and this turned into you relinquishing to the desperation of closeness.

it was an unfamiliar yet thoroughly welcomed feeling of toji's tongue dancing on your cunt. you grabbed onto the strands of his dark hair as he split your folds open to insert his muscle. it was like a starved man tasting a five star meal for the first time, liking, teasing and nibbling on your skin.

"fuck you're so good, fuck keep going~" your hips moved at the compass of his rhythm. you jolt once you feel a finger penetrate you out of nowhere.

"shit! toji, what are you—oh~!"

"loosening you up." he said in-between kisses through your thighs. delight filled your heart by the blatant desire, of which has never known itself to you.

the tears you shed were due to a mix of emotions. pain, pleasure, comfort and happiness. quite the strange combo, but getting the embrace you have only dared to dream of. and you believe this feeling was mutual as toji held onto you delicately.

[spotsandsocks]

Hiiii Spotty 💕💕💕

🎅+calm

-❤️🪐

Never know what’s gonna happen when I start these- wasn’t expecting this but here we are we get what we get 😆 I’m not in charge of the words the words are in charge of me 😘 444 words of silliness 💚

“Just…stay calm. Ok?”

From his spot against the wall Eddie watches Buck approach his brother in law cautiously as if he’s afraid he might bolt. He might actually, judging by the look on his face.

“Calm! You want me to stay calm!”

Chimney's voice is… well, shrill is probably the right word. Eddie tucks his shirt back in, trying not to feel too awkward about it. It’s not really their fault. People should make more noise when they walk around corners.

“After … after …” Chimney’s hand waves in the general direction of where he’d seen what he’d seen.

It’s not even like they’d gotten very far. Clothes were still mostly where they were supposed to be. Chimney’s just being dramatic.

“God!” The older man scrubs at his face. “ I need to go scrub my eyeballs!”

Honestly the dramatics, it’s hard not to laugh but Buck isn’t taking being caught too well so he refrains but he does throw a mildly snarky comment into the situation.

“You didn’t even see anything.”

The glare he gets is actually quite impressive. Chim stares hard and speaks slowly, regret in every word.

“I saw enough.” Pointing up he adds, “Mistletoe is no excuse for this!”

Chim sounds disgusted and it’s just too much, Eddie’s snort of laughter breaks free. Honestly,all they were doing was making out against the wall, as per the tradition with mistletoe, they hadn’t even got to the really good stuff yet. Chim’s lucky he didn’t catch them in the showers at the station last week. Then he would have had an eyeful! Eddie smiles at the memory. At least this time there’s snuck off to what should have been a quiet corner of Maddie and Chim’s backyard.

Chim’s finger is waving in the air, “It’s one thing to know you two are a thing but it’s utterly unacceptable to have to see it with my own eyes! You’re paying for my therapy. I mean it.”

Walking backwards, Chim points again, this time right at Buck.

“And you! Put those away.”

Buck’s blush is adorable as he starts to button up his shirt hiding his chest from view which in Eddie’s opinion is a shame.

Chimney shudders then disappears back into the house. Alone again Buck turns back to face him with a grimace.

“Oops!”

Eddie has to bite his lip not to laugh again. He’d never imagined he’d enjoy sneaking around with Buck so much but he does. He likes it a lot. Even Chimney’s trauma isn’t going to stop him which he proves by reaching for his boyfriend and correcting the unfortunate situation of his buttoned shirt as quickly as possible.

[ender-cloud]

HYDE IS IN THIS UPDATE HOLY SHIT!!!

Tgs spoilers under cut

Haha, you guys remember that one off comment i made last week

Ha ha ha……. Oh god, I’ll get to that when I get to it. Lets start with more of Jaspers good points and leadership skills first

Jasper makes a great point here.

The Lodgers are the society! They make the magic, the energy, the environment, Jekyll is just the ring leader of it all making sure things don’t get to out of hand, but in the end he had started to have a hard time being able to find that control and keep them in check.

This is why a type of “revolution” like this will do more good then harm in this situation because it will allow Jasper to take Jekylls place of keeping everyone together as the times turn and they need to protect themselves.

But uh… maybe the lodgers might not see this as I do

Ok ok, I get the Lodgers hesitants, Fritz brought to my attention that because Jasper is the newest lodger, despite everything they probably dont have enough trust in him.

Which I definitely get, they are in hard times right now and its hard to trust Jasper, even if they’ve known him for a while they were just betrayed by someone they’ve known for years, how can they trust someone they’ve known for a little over a month (I think)

Also theres a reason why I said that one off comment, not only because it was a trope I see a lot, but because I truly felt like it was a possibility

BUTTTT!! With this it doesn’t necessarily mean that they wont 100% not follow through with what Jasper is saying.

It is clear that they are unsure, yes, but they may need to think it over, and theres got to be a few lodgers who agree with his points.

Some who agree with Jasper that may help the other Lodgers get on board to. If they are truly Reluctant to Jasper leading them because they haven’t known him for long, if some people who they have been living with for years joining up may give them the boost to join.

Jasper made many great points in his speech, and with so many people not everyone could have disagreed with what he said.

I believe this moment of doubt will be just that, a moment, but once other people start agreeing and maybe adding their own points, then it will grow into what Jasper wanted before, the lodgers believing him and letting him lead them in this hard time

It will be the next part of this turning point into someone more confident for Jasper, because while motivating the lodgers with words might be easy, actually forming a plan and leading them through it will be harder, it will also teach him to not give up quickly when things look bad.

Hyde’s just casually acting like he didn’t just have a mental breakdown and immediately just teases Lanyon (I love them so much chat it’s unreal)

ALSO THIS CONFIRMS THAT HYDES MENTAL BREAKDOWN WAS HAPPENING THE SAME TIME AS JASPERS SPEACH!!!

Anyway, back to the actual pannel.

I find it interesting how in Hydes head, he also has a reputation to keep up, its not just Jekyll. The only difference is that hyde has his tough guy, bad boy rep (I hate myself for saying that) He cant let anyone see his weakness, not even Jekyll.

He clearly has mentally trained himself to be able to just change his mood on a switch, but even if he can change how he acts his face has to show some evidence of what happened, i mean we’ve seen him be a little bloody from the glass and Lanyon must have seen that too.

He might be talking about what Hyde looks like when he said he made quite a mess out of himself, not only the glass, which might make Hyde nervous, i feel like he wont be able to keep his facade up for long with how he was acting before.

It’s a little hard delve into the few words they exchanged but im excited for the next update, which may include some blaming of what happened to Jekyll.

(Also more Lanyon and Hyde which I’ll take anyday 🙏🙏)

Happy Holidays Btw!! I hope you have a great Christmas or anything you may celebrate!!

[fookinhellcurly]

Larry discussions and why they matter

I got asked today by an older, new fan through the Larry Resources Compilation I made (also posted on Reddit):

"I am genuinely curious, though, like….. why does this matter?"

As a previous chill fan (a directioner, and a larrie, apparently god my brain gets foggy sometimes lol) who barely recounts my own Larrying back in the day (college was a whirlwind and a fever dream to me lol sorry) and came back after Liam's passing, I, myself, have consumed all these Larry information only recently. But from the get go, I knew my convictions.

There might be new ones here who'd come across my blog, so I thought I'd share my answer here as well. I ended up making a bulleted list, and it was the best way I thought I could address the question + the extra notes they left in their comment:

—

Baby larries and misinformation: Most baby larries likely learned about Larry through edits on YouTube, TikTok, or Instagram reels. They then decided to dive deeper, which led them down the Larry rabbit hole and eventually to Reddit and Tumblr. However, much of what’s on social media is taken out of context. There’s a lot of misinformation being spread (especially from bluegreeners), which is part of why non-larries in the fandom get annoyed with us. Some fans take things to extremes without understanding the reality of what H and L are going through. This is why it’s crucial to encourage research and healthy discussions. New information (in a sense that we might have failed to discuss it before; recent example is this post I made about Harry's lyric change to "Louis ONTO my drawers" which happened in 2020) is discovered—or debunked—daily, so having a platform to share and discuss these findings is vital. This Larry research I made is extensive, yes, but TONS of information have been scrubbed from the internet for unknown reasons (i.e, about babygate). Some people are actively trying to bury the truth about Larry. Without blogs and accounts archiving this data over the past decade, we wouldn’t know half of what we do today. My goal here is to make navigating 15 years’ worth of information easier.

The bigger picture: So, what’s the point of all this? In my opinion, it’s not just about proving a point. It’s about understanding the awful and harsh realities of an industry that profits off our support as fans while exploiting the very people we admire. It’s about acknowledging that there’s more to H and L than the clips we see online. They were just kids with dreams who were abused and manipulated by their management. They had to fight to maintain their identities while achieving their goals. It’s heartbreaking to realize that despite progress, the queer community still faces immense barriers (extra: I read the summary of Rock Hudson's battle back in the day—it's a perfect example of how we cannot trust the narrative media feed us). H and L have spent years signaling and coding, trying to break through their closet, and only us Larries could see the signs. Meanwhile, the media and management continue to box them into heteronormative narratives. It honestly breaks my heart seeing Harry get accused of queerbaiting and Louis forced into this Louis Tomlinson™ laddy-lad image, a far cry from the vibrant, flamboyant, happy young man he used to be (his words: "He were a lot sweeter, this lad"). To be clear, I love Lou the way he is but I agree to what this person said, I wish we had seen how the grown-up version of 2010-2012 Louis.

The denials: If HL had cut this shit from the beginning. If they had explicitly denied that their relationship was, in fact, not real (No, they have not straightforwardly denied it because they always redirect or play with words when asked in front of the camera; and that includes L's denial this year), we would have accepted it. But they didn't. THEY fed us all these things to pick on for the past few years. The songs (god, the songs) and the parallels, the use of blue and green (they know what those colors mean to us—they would not use them lightly if they want us to not believe), the coded clothing and the signaling, the acts of defiance, etc.—what are all those for? It's crazy to think that H and L would "bait" us just for the sake of sales.

Finally, the point of not letting the "ancient texts" die and keeping track even in the present: You see, all of us probably became genuinely invested because of the bigger story. In hindsight, everything MAKES SENSE, but in real-time unfolding during the 1D days, when H and L were fighting the most, it was harder to make sense of these things. But because we have these timelines, analyses, and proofs that sometimes even take years to be established (i.e., the McDonald's x Carpool Karaoke 2015 where HL supposedly shared the milkshake—but the clip didn't see the light of day until 2020 came around), we finally get to make sense of a decade+ worth of legitimate stories. As you would observe, there would always be a couple of larries who would ask, "Why do you think they're still together when they haven't been seen in public for so many years?" I want to add my answer from this post:

"[...] I’ve established that being a larrie, like a true larrie and not a chill larrie, you really have to be strong with your beliefs. I know those two try to keep their peace for as long as they want to. And I know we’d probably still get more denials and stunts along the way, but we have to remember that those shouldn’t invalidate the TONS of proofs/receipts that already exist, nor ignore the signals those two send in return when they have to be involved in bs narratives fed to the public. […] There’d be days when it’d be harder to defend HL themselves even bcs of their actions and words that could hurt larries - so on our end, we don’t necessarily have to tolerate that and we’re allowed to be mad or doubt what we’re supposed to be fighting for (not doubting them per se; just the situation and the cause). Though again, for me, by the end of the day, I know there are million other reasons why we cannot bend the truth (and we larries ourselves have always strived to stay analytical and logical when dealing with proofs), and I’d still choose to hold on bcs I know they still need us to believe - even if they decide to keep things quieter like this year or not come out at all."

If no one keeps track of these things (because as subtle as they are, HL still drops hints even once in a blue moon), other people would probably fail to notice them. But they are still just as loud, though not in a way that some 'fans' appreciate (like comparing now with the 1D days when, of course, you’d see them in the same room most of the time). And that’s when hate comes in. Because they fail to see it, they decide to 'overwrite' the past—when the closet was glass and when HL was free to show us their truth. They try to erase the fact that Harry and Louis were forced into a closet: one being labeled as the charming, womanizer man who likes 'girls of a certain age,' and the other as the laddy-lad guy who was a partygoer and then entered fatherhood.

This is the reason why, even though the topics could be repetitive, I personally try to engage, help out, and contribute—it also encourages others to do so. We need each other to keep believing despite the BS we’re thrown. And while Larry has stopped signaling as much, I know they truly appreciate Larries who support them on the sidelines.

There are so many more things my brain probably wants to say, but I literally just woke up when I started writing this lol. I hope that made sense. Again, I am not mad or trying to be rude, but I think these things needed pointing out. ♡

—

That's it. Sums up my beliefs and my convictions as a larrie.

[manicmanuscription]

The Right Time

Feysand x Reader

Word Count: 13674

Warnings: Angst, Possible Medical Inaccuracies, Fluff, Love Confessions, Delirium, Lack of Sleep, Depression? Panicking, Dissociation.

Summary: Reader is a new single mom, and she pushed away her only support system determined to prove she could do it on her own. But on a bad sleeping night she's slipping. Luckily her mates are there to pick her up.

A/N: I've been really obsessed with baby/pregnancy fic's lately due to baby fever, but I have never actually been pregnant before so a lot of this stuff is based on information from family members or other fanfic's. So a lot of this might not be correct. This fic has also been playing in my head after a shit ton of pregnancy fics i read so there might be grammatical errors!

─── ♡ ───

You didn’t know what you expected your life to be when you were just a faeling but it certainly wasn’t like this…

Living in a small cottage nestled in the countryside of Velaris, a wailing baby in your arms, bags under your eyes, no ring on your finger and no baby daddy in sight. Your house was an absolute mess but you didn’t have the energy or time to clean, you would’ve hired a maid but ever since your daughter was born a few weeks ago your paranoia had skyrocketed. It didn’t help that you were a valued member of the Inner Circle and not only had your life been threatened numerous times but you had been attacked just as many. 

You never expected it to be this hard though. Andromeda was squealing at the top of her lungs and you were sobbing right along with her. Rocking her up and down and desperately trying to figure out what was wrong. Not only were you still recovering from your intense labor and your homones all over the place but it was impossible to get any sleep, if your lovely daughter wasn’t having difficulty latching and by some miracle she had fallen asleep for longer than forty five minutes than you were staring at the wall cooconed in blankets a deep sense of dread overcoming every sense in your body made it diffuclt to fall asleep.

Anxiety kept your eyes awake at the thought that something would go wrong the second you let yourself relax. Your body would pass out from sheer exhaustion and Andromeda’s cries would awaken you and you started the whole song and dance over again. 

You were so, so, tired. Your mind had you seeing shadows moving across the floor and you could barely stand up straight. It was a miracle that fae get pregnant, conception taking years at a time and even then the pregnancy and labor extremely diffuclt, a lot of fae not surviving the process. You knew you were incredibley lucky to have a daughter, to have the chance to hold her and you loved her fiercely with ever fiber in your being yet you couldn’t help but regret everything.

You wished you never went to that club, never met that male, you wished that male had stayed instead of running in the opposite direction and you wished to all gods that you hadn’t pushed away your only support system, determined to prove you could do it on your own. 

Your family had been a shining star during all of this. Especially your High Lady and Lord, Rhysand and Feyre knew the deep intracies of pregnancy better than most after everything they had been through with Nyx.

Theey had stuck to your side the second they learned you were pregnant. Taking turns holding your hair back as you violently threw up from intense morning sickness, got all your cravings the second you mentioned it, held your bump when the weight started hurting your back or rubbed your feet when your ankles swelled.

They even forced you to stay at their house for weeks at a time so they could take care of you and when you insisted you were becoming a burden and returned home they had made themselves comfortable on your couch before you felt guilty and returned to the River House if only to save their spines. 

You had tried pulling away from them, guilt eating you alive every second of your pregnancy. Their actions didn’t help the absolute massive crush you had on them, in fact it only increased your adoration for them which made you shame spiral. The second your daughter was born you knew you couldn’t continue leaning on them for support, it only hurt you at the end of the day when you remembered they were mated, they had each other and a son and despite their overly flirty comments and lingering touches that just ended up causing more confusion. There was no room for you, you couldn’t keep pining after them when you needed to focus on Andromeda.

You told them you needed space, practically shoving them out the door even after they had spent 18 hours holding your hand’s and helping you deliver your beautiful daughter. Of course they had straight up refused your attempt to push them away and stayed with you a few days after labor, helping take care of you during the harsh after effects. But you finally kicked them out throwing out some cruel word’s that would haunt you to this day. Andromeda needed her mother to be present and emotionally healthy and you couldn’t provide that if you keep second guessing and overthinking every brush against your hand or every comment about your eyes. 

You could do this, you had to do this. You needed to be the best mother you could be for your little star. 

Yet you couldn’t even do that because she would not. stop. crying. The sound shredded your heart to pieces and guilt and shame turned the shattered bits of you to dust. She was fed, clean and warm and you couldn’t figure out why she kept crying. The thought made you feel like a horrible mother and you let out another sob at the same time as Andromeda as you bounced her up and down, forcing your numb feet to pace the room. “Please, please just go to sleep.” You begged. “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Your voice cracked and you spiraled at the scream she let out. 

You couldn’t do this. 

It was too hard, you were a horrible friend and an even worse mother and you didn’t deserve this little miracle in your arms. A better female would be able to handle it. You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t do this, you couldn’t- 

“Oh Angel.” A soft voice broke and you turned to find Feyre and Rhys standing there, you opened your mouth to say something but Rhys was moving the instant your eyes met their’s. As soon as he was a breath away from you he reached for Andromeda, saying something about help yet the words were distorted and muffled in your exhaustive state, soft arms gripped your shoulders and you almost fell over at the weight of your baby being removed as Rhysand gently pried her away from you and into his arms, a smile gracing his elegant features.

You were too tired to fight, to do anything to protest as Feyre led you away from the bedroom and into the adjoining bathroom. She was saying something too but you didn’t hear it, all your last remaining energy focused on listening for Andromeda, making sure she was ok. Feyre titled your chin to look up at her and she pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. Your mind suddenly sharpening as her magic brushed against your mental walls as she forced you to listen to her. “She’ll be fine Sweetheart, Rhys has got her, now let me take care of you.” 

Everything felt so far away as if you were dreaming, moving through life in a haze as Feyre gently undressed you and settled you in a warm bath. She washed your hair and body and massaged your shoulders, whispering word’s of comfort that did not reach you as you floated away from your body. She fed you fruit and cheese’s your body chewing the food on autopilot. When was the last time you ate? 

The food and Feyre constantly touching you slowly brought you back down to earth. To the reality of your hunger, your tiredness, how sore all your muscles were and to the lack of Andromeda crying, you could hear Rhysand humming lowly through the crack in the door and the occasional creak of the floorboards as he calmed your daughter down. The thought had tears lining your eyes again. “She hates me.” You whimpered and Feyre brushed your tears away with the pads of her thumbs. “No she doesn’t.” Feyre she affirmed confidently. 

You shook you head in disagreement. “I can’t do anything right Fey, I said all those nasty things to you a-and I couldn’t even get her to sleep, and I’m so tired. I wasn’t cut out for this alright? I’m going to fuck her up so badly, I’ll ruin everything.” You were sobbing again, a broken sound tearing from your throat and the sound looked like it physically pained her. “Andromeda adores you alright love? We can all see it, she never looks at anyone the way she looks at you.  Your so attuned to her, you love her so fiercely and that’s the most important part. Your doing your amazing love. You’re not going to fuck anything up. You’re an amazing female and you’re an amazing mother. I forgive you, so does Rhys. We just want to make sure your ok.”

You let the words sink in, your heart beating wildly out of her chest as you cried at the tenderness of her words. “Why are you dong this to me?” You asked brokenly, you felt as if they were pulling you in all different directions. “Why are you saying all of these things when-“ when you’re mated. Were the unspoken words. But you couldn’t say that, you’d never say that and ruin whatever pieces of friendship you had. 

“When what?” Feyre asked softly as she stroked your damp hair.  

“When- I- I-“ You stuttered not knowing what to say as your mind panicked at the close confession you’d almost made. “Why are supporting me like this.” You instead asked, needing to know why they had stayed so close to your side and pulled at your heart strings so violently. “Just..why Feyre? Go home, to your son. I’ll be fi-“

“If you finish that sentance I swear to the gods-“ Rhysand exhaled heavily from the now open doorway,. “Rhys.” Feyre warned but he brushed her off as he crossed the room and  kneeled in front of the bathtub, gripping your face in between his large hands. “Do you not see how much we love you? How much we care for you. I think we have made it obvious Angel. You are our mate. Just please- please let us help you.” The last part sounded like a desperate plea, a whine leaving his lips and you didn’t have it into you to be shocked that the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court were kneeling beside you, begging. your heart froze at the love confession. 

“Wait…What?” You asked slowly, waiting for them to tell you this was all a big joke. You couldn’t believe this, you couldn’t let yourself hope. Feyre was giving Rhysand an annoyed glare but at your voice she turned to you, her expression to shifting to one of hope. “You are our mate darling.” She whispered, entertwining a tattooed hand with your’s, water dripping onto the rug, reminding you that were naked in a bathtub and an embarrassed flush crept up your cheeks. 

“And we love you.” Rhys added once again, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“We didn’t want to tell you like this, especially not right now.” Feyre added with a pointed tone, giving her - your -  mate another glare. The High Lord just rolled his eyes. “I’m tired of waiting for the right time Feyre.” 

You were pretty sure your heart was beating a milllion miles per hour and you couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle that turned into a delirous laugh. Their brows furrowed and expressions shifted to something more broken at that and you immediately apologized as you gasped for breath in between your laughter. “I- just.” Your voice cracked as you started talking, regaining some wisdom. “Do you know how long I’ve been in love with the two of you?” You whispered, your voice coming out in a high pitched tone as you tried to get it out all in one breath. “I felt so guilty-“ Lips crashed onto yours. The addicting scent of lilac and pear completely invading your senses as your gorgeous mate kissed you. Fireworks exploded in your chest and all of a sudden it felt like you could breath again. 

You felt as if you had arrived home as you finally allowed yourself to recognize the glowing bond in your chest instead of gaslighting yourself and pushing it down. It was overwhelming to feel the surge of emotions on your mates side and exhilarating all at the same time. Feyre moaned as your tugged on her bottom lip possessively. Soon her lips trailed down your neck and shoulder and a new set of lips met your own. 

Rhysand was different than Feyre yet just as addicting as his tongue clashed against yours, immediately taking control of the kiss. 

After a few more minutes of your mate’s overwhelmingly beautiful touch and you finally pulled away, panting hard. “What..What about Andromeda?” You asked timidly, knowing you would put her above yourself always, if they didn’t want another child than you couldn’t do this. Couldn’t allow yourself to hope only to crash and burn later. 

Rhysand hummed softly, taking one of your hands and kissing the inside of your wrist. “What about her darling?”

“Do…you still want me? She’s not your-“

Feyre gripped your chin firmly once again, directing your eyes to hers. “Andromeda is ours just as much as Nyx is.” 

“Your ours, Andromeda is ours. Nothing is going to change that.” Rhys agreeded with just as much conviction os Feyre. You almost started crying once again, completely overwhelmed by the revelations of the night and Feyre hummed softly as they both remembered why they were here in the first place. To take care of you and their daughter. Rhysand got up and grabbed a fluffy bath robe and you don’t remember buying and Feyre helped you out of the bath stealing a quick kiss from you. “There’s still so much we have to do and talk about.” You mentioned as Rhys slid your arms into the robe. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “We can talk later, let’s get you into bed Sweetheart.” You could feel the adrenaline  from the night starting to wear off as Feyre led you to the bedroom. Your daughter finally snoring softly in the crib next to the bed.

They dressed you in your favorite PJ’s and each pressed a kiss to your lips before tucking you in the bed, Rhys magically changing the sheets with a snap of his fingers. 

Feyre snuggled in beside you, running her nails along your spine and Rhys sat on the end, massaging your sore feet as they forced the usual dread and anxiety away and for the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to finally relax at your mate’s gentle touch, your body completely melting underneath them. One hand gripping your daughter’s finger through the bars of her crib and one hand holding onto Feyre’s as you drifted off to sleep

[blueberrymocha]

lying to them *ೃ༄

┌──────────────────────────────────────┐

ׂ╰┈➤ fluff

➣ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio, hisoka, illumi, chrollo

➣ word count: x

└──────────────────────┘

scenario:

“you’re home late, where’ve you been?”

———————————————————————————————————————

gon

- he doesn’t realize at all because even if he does, he’ll tell himself he’s got it wrong

- sees you as too good to lie to him

“you meant to say x right?“

- his absolute trust in you would compel you to come clean then and there

- part of him is upset that you’d lie, but he tries his best to remain calm

- if you’re willing to have a reasonable discussion about it, so is he

- but if you argue, play dumb, or act dismissive, it’d quickly turn into a full blown fight

- honesty is important to him, so while he appreciates your confession

- the fact that you lied in the first place would make him reconsider his boundaries and your relationship

killua

- he wouldn’t notice if it were a small detail

- besides he doesn’t feel like he needs to be on guard around you, analyzing every word

- he’d probably catch you in a lie after absentmindedly asking you a question later and noticing your answer changed

“did you see the limited edition chocolate robot while you were there?”

…

“i thought you said you were at the candy store?”

- he becomes a lot more assertive and firm as he questions you, a glare on his face if you brush it off

- whatever the reason was, he’ll distance himself from you for a day or so

- the idea of you hiding god knows what from him would totally piss him off

- he won’t be mad forever, but for now, it’s probably better you give him space

kurapika

- is inclined to believe you, but pays enough attention that if the story didn’t add up, he’d notice

- and he’d point out any inconsistencies, being upfront about it

“isn’t that friend out of town?

…

“you weren’t with them, were you?”

- his mind would probably fill with doubts and insecurities

- thoughts of infidelity springing to the front of his mind

- he would never be brash or demand answers, though

- if something did happen, his priority is fixing it

- he knows he can be unavailable, so would give you the opportunity to have a real talk with him

- are you unhappy with how things are? was it just a white lie?

- eventually, the problem would be resolved,

- but he makes it very clear he won’t tolerate lying in the future

leorio

- he wouldn’t notice, too tired from school to pay your words much mind

- it’d just be normal routine for you, and honestly, he might not ever find out

- even when he’s fully awake, he simply isn’t all that attentive

- if you decide to tell him, i think he’d be a lot calmer than you might expect

- of course, he’d still be mad, but the most he’d do is raise his voice and argue

- he’s also not the type to storm out, at least until he has clarity about the situation

- if the lie was innocent enough, he’ll be a bit ticked off for the rest of the night, but nothing more

- if it was something bigger, he’d ask for space, not wanting to let his rashness make him do something he’ll regret later

- he’d definitely try to mitigate his response because he does appreciate you coming clean to him

- even if it doesn’t absolve you of the consequences

hisoka

- he notices quickly, he’s an expert at lying after all

- if it’s a good attempt, he’d humor you; playing along, even asking follow up questions and pretending to be fooled

- he sees this all as a game after all

- but eventually, once he’s given the prospect of you lying a little more thought

- he’s a lot less playful, calling you out directly and demanding the truth

- it’s fun when he’s merely amused by your inability to lie

- but at heart, he’s possessive, and the idea that you’re trying to hide an affair irritates him more than he himself understands

- and if it truly was another person you were with, he’d 100% retaliate by killing them

- as for you? he’s content to let you off that hook at that point, warning you not to deceive him again

illumi

- as much of a mastermind he seems to be, social cues elude him completely

- in his eyes, you’re his partner, someone he’d never have reason to doubt

- if you never tell him, you’re free to go on with your day

- but make no mistake, he’s far from dumb

- if there’s a gaping inaccuracy in your words, he’ll immediately accuse you of lying

(e.g. saying you were with someone he himself was with)

- at that point, there’s nothing you can say to get out of this even if you correct yourself

- it’d start an argument, and in the end, he’d be more controlling

- your location? he’d track it at all times

- hanging out your friends? you’d have to ask him first

- and if they’re male, it’ll always be a ‘no’

chrollo

- so there’s no way to lie to him, he’ll catch on immediately

- he’s mastered every aspect of the social scene

- his typical patience is replaced by an eerie calmness as he questions whatever statement you made

- if you come clean at that point and explain yourself

- and he finds it valid enough, he’ll get over it; firmly telling you he won’t be so forgiving next time

- keep lying to him though, and he won’t hesitate to use manipulation tactics on you

- eg. ignoring you, threatening you or whoever he suspects you were with, guilt tripping..

- if you’d grown to see him as an understanding, misunderstood lover, his behavior would extinguish your perception quickly

- once you do confess, he’ll be more distant for the next day or so

- though if you asked him?

“i’m not mad, just disappointed.”

[livyourlive]

Blessing In Disguise

Kenshi Takahashi x Male Reader

Summary : A trip to Outworld was supposed to be just fun and relaxing. But Kenshi didn't expect to fell for the youngest Royal family, let alone a guy. But even more unexpected things happen when he went back there to investigate a certain sorcerer.

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A/N : Here we are, a oneshot for Kenshi Takahashi x Male Reader. Where he fell for the youngest Royal family and instead of Mileena contracting tarkat disease it was Y/N. I might just alter a bit. Maybe ooc for Mileena and Kenshi but Mileena enter protective mode. :3

A/N : There isn't quite a lot of Male Reader so i decided to make one on my own ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ.

A/N : Probably crappy writing. Also i may have put too much 'the prince himself' & 'the samurai' i cringe reading it but I'm too lazy to changed those so it is what it is :)

TW : Blood?, Gore, Slight Suggestive?, Fluff, Angst?.

2,427 Words | 13,565 Characters

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Entering into Outworld for the first time was something else, everything is just like in Earthrealm but slightly different.

As Kenshi and the rest approach to the stairwell led by Fire God himself, they found themselves greeting what appears to be the Royal Family of Outworld.

"Lord Liu Kang, welcome." Princess Mileena begin to speak.

"Thank you, Princess Mileena." Liu Kang return the greetings.

"You remember my sister and brother?"

As Mileena gesture to both Kitana to her left and Y/N to her right, Kenshi make eye contact with the youngest one, somehow finding the other one very attractive he couldn't stop staring.

The staring didn't go unnoticed by Y/N, smirking as he realised what happened.

His smirk didn't go unnoticed by the other Earthrealmers too.

The carriage ride to the great hall wasn't pleasant, at least for Kenshi since being in the same carriage with the prince himself, with Y/N sitting in front of him as well.

Y/N constantly teasing the samurai which made the other blush, he found it rather cute. Kenshi constantly flickering his eyes between Y/N and his surroundings trying to remain composed.

It was quite a relief to know that Johnny and Kung Lao were to busy mesmerised by the Outworld people. Of course Kitana wasn't really having it, scolding him for it. Though the prince couldn't really care less.

——————————————————————

Then evening came where everyone was having a feast.

Y/N was seated right across where kenshi sit but on the other table across them. (it would be like Y/N, Mileena, Johnny, Rain would be somewhere else :P)

Although there wasn't any teasing or anything interesting other than Kung Lao having no shame eating like a cat that hasn't been fed in 5 minutes.

Kenshi let his eyes wander around, and landed on Y/N. He can't help but admire the prince again, thankful that he can stare without any teasing from him.

But he notice how instead of a usual happy face, Y/N seems to be in a foul mood, poking his food around, doesn't seem to have any interest.

The samurai wondered what's on his mind.

Not too long after that, the prince's face seemingly contorted to a discomfort face, adjusting his position uncomfortably trying not to be obvious.

This of course caught Mileena's attention as she's trying to quietly checked on his brother while not wanting to alert their mother.

"Are you alright Y/N?" Mileena whispered.

"I-i'm fine.. Mileena.." Y/N whispered back voice slightly groggy.

Mileena knows that Y/N will have to be in the tournament to face Raiden to test not only his strength but Raiden's as well before he can face her, hence she feels slightly guilty herself for what happened that night.

Kenshi was watching from afar, worrying about what happened to Y/N, he doesn't want to see the prince looking discomfort despite they had just met and didn't talk that much.

The whole night wasn't that pleasant as well for both Kenshi and Y/N, with the General ruining the night with his speech and Y/N getting called by his mother.

"Enter." There's a knock on the door after Queen Sindel done lecturing the General. The door opens with the twins and Y/N, walking in with heavy foot, knowing what's about to happen.

"You asked to see us?" Mileena began while Y/N just remain quiet.

"I saw what happened this evening." The queen wasn't so kind with her voice as she spoke.

As the twins turn to look at Y/N, he then speak up that it's probably just something he just ate, trying to ease the tension.

Of course their mother wasn't buying it, Sindel decided to give him an earful about the tournament and how his disease could manifest it.

It wasn't a suggestion now as she instruct Kitana to take his place.

This of course enrage Y/N, with him being hot-headed and the whole disease.

"W-what? But mother, I have to be in the tournament. What would those people think if i don't?!"

Y/N wasn't always so healthy and strong, he has always been ill himself.

Then it began those whispers from the people on how he shouldn't be in the Royal Family since he couldn't fight for his life.

Then of course about how he couldn't protect his family even if he tried.

The tournament was meant to prove himself but now it cannot be fulfilled.

"Why you left the palace that night unattended is still beyond me." Sindel spoke sounding slightly disappointed in Y/N's decision.

That night Y/N was feeling slightly nervous and overwhelmed by the whole thing. Mileena decided to cheer him up buy taking him for a walk.

Unbeknownst that Sindel only caught Y/N's figure leaving the palace.

This of course upset Mileena but she doesn't want to admit it even if she desperately wants to.

Y/N of course doesn't blame her.

"I was just taking a walk.. To clear my mind! I never thought that-" Now raising his voice, he desperately tried to reason with her.

"That's your problem Y/N, You'd never think!" Now turning to face him, both mother and son equally raised their voice.

Kitana decided to cut in, not wanting this argument to go on. Trying her best to reassure Y/N that Sindel only want what's best for him.

She also reminded him the consequence of people knowing his disease could lead him to be banished to the waste.

Of course, a very pissed off Y/N refuse to listen just storm off to his chamber, not wanting to deal with this anymore.

——————————————————————

The few next days during each tournament Kenshi saw Y/N, they both make eye contacts like always :)

Of course Y/N was smiling but the samurai could tell his smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

And the fact that he didn't tease him saddens Kenshi. (he grows to liking the teasing :( )

But the fews times where they have free time, they bump into each other again. And Y/N decided to bring the samurai to sneak off for a little tour.

Kenshi was hesitant but seeing the pleading look in his eyes, he succumb to it (＾∇＾)

The times they spend together brings the two slightly closer.

With Y/N starts to relax and forgot about his day before Kenshi can see the very true and vulnerable side of Y/N and he let himself falls in love with the prince.

Of course he hasn't question about it to the prince, but that doesn't stop him from thinking confidently that the prince no doubt return his feelings.

Until the last day of the tournament. Kenshi was excited see Y/N.

Only for him to not appeared. At first he prolly thought that the prince arrived late seeing the one empty spot there next to Mileena.

Until Sindel announced Kitana as the next opponent. This confused the Fire God since he also aware of Y/N situation.

Sindel just brush it off saying that he has some pressing matters and couldn't leave it unattended.

This of course sadden Kenshi that he couldn't see Y/N again.

Unbeknownst to them that they were going to cure him. Mileena was on edge the entire time, worrying for her baby brother :(

After the tournament has ended with Earthrealm won, they all celebrate and excited to go home. Except for Kenshi who looks sad that he couldn't see the prince one last time before he return back to Earthrealm.

———————���——————————————

After learning about a sorcerer, Fire God has task Kenshi, Johnny and Kung Lao to sneak back to Outworld and investigate for this sorcerer called Shang Tsung.

The journey didn't proved easy but soon they find an ally in Baraka, a tarkatan who then explained to them about what they are and how it happens.

Soon they arrived at Shang Tsung's laboratory, hoping to catch him in there. Surely enough they heard his voice, talking to someone. As they reach the top, they were surprised to see the Umgadi and High Mage with him.

But Kenshi was even more surprised to see Y/N's unconscious body laying there. Looking like they're about to plot against him. This anger the samurai as he clenched his fist tightly. He needs to rescue his beloved the prince.

As they battle and managed to defeat the two before cornering Shang Tsung. Kenshi was especially angry and aggressively talk back at the sorcerer when he said he's trying to protect him, not infect him.

Not buying it, he asked Johnny and Kung Lao to watch him as he approached the table where Y/N's body was.

Slowly approaching, his heart break to see him like this, who knows what will happened if he was late.

"Prince Y/N? Are you alright?" He slowly caress his temple with his other hand holding the prince's hand.

"Ugh.. Kenshi?" Y/N was surprised to wake up to Kenshi handsome face but was confused. "What's going on?"

"It's alright, you're safe now. We've stopped Shang Tsung." Kenshi reassure him that his safe.

Just after those words left his mouth, Y/N was confused.

"Stopped him? Why?!"

Just like that his head was convulsing followed by the sudden change in his eyes.

"Prince?! Prince Y/N what's wrong?!" Kenshi tried to hold his body down.

But due to adrenaline he was too strong that he broke free from being chained as he continue screaming in agony.

In matter of seconds, his entire mouth contorted, spreading wide followed by razor sharp teeths across his mouth.

Kenshi couldn't believe it.

Feeling himself moving, Y/N gets up, baring his teeth at Kenshi before freeing himself completely and slowly approaching him like a monster.

It broke his heart thinking that he was too late or that he blew the whole thing up. Composing himself, Kenshi was determined to get him fixed.

"Your blood... It's so sweet.. How tasty it would be to lick it off my fingers~" Y/N spoke but no longer in his usual voice but a very deep groggy voice as he intend to have a taste of Kenshi ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

And so they began tackling each other along with Johnny trying not to hurt Y/N which to Johnny's dismay that they're the one who shouldn't get hurt.

Alas Kenshi managed to knock the prince down before Kung Lao and Johnny rushed to seize him.

Kenshi silently prayed that the sorcerer quickly develop the serum before Y/N gets out of control.

As the sorcerer approach Y/N with the syringe, he elbowed the hell out of Kung Lao's face before trying to get bite out of Johnny.

Kenshi couldn't let that happen, he quickly grabbed his shoulders while trying to avoid his mouth.

Y/N smacked his hands away before grabbing the nearest objects which happened to be (Y/N's choice of weapons) and turn around and plunge it down.

Unfortunately Kenshi's eyes got stabbed horribly by Y/N before the sorcerer finally insert the syringe into him, successfully inject the serum into him and turns him back to his self.

Now a very painful Kenshi and unconscious Y/N lay on the ground before Kitana and Mileena came in, entering mama bear for her brother.

——————————————————————

Y/N soon was healed up. He was also informed of what happened and everything. Though he don't want to believe it but the sorcerer manage to convinced him of the very bad Earthrealmers >:(.

It broke the prince's heart that the Earthrealmers would do such a thing but he couldn't do anything now. :(

Incoming the festival, Y/N wasn't really having a good time, his condition is still not curable, the serum can only stop him from going feral but it couldn't completely cure him.

It also doesn't help that the twins were bickering back and forth about Mileena's relationship with Tanya that the prince couldn't stand it and leave which Mileena soon does as well. (Poor Kitana :( )

After learning everything from Fire God Liu Kang and the evidence of Shang's plot, Y/N was relived that they are not bad guys which slightly heal his broken heart.

But the prince still need to see the samurai to make amends for taking his eyes and heart.

When everyone was gathering at the gateway to discuss their plan. Y/N finally got to see Kenshi. His heart broke once again at the sight, there he is now with a blindfold cover his face. He wanted to approach him but was frozen in place, fearing that Kenshi hates him.

He couldn't bare it so he looked down in guilt. Seeing the familiar red, he look up and saw him slightly smile. He finally approached him, hand slowly reach to touch his face.

"I'm truly sorry that i.." With tears forming around his eyes, He couldn't say the word out.

"It's okay, I have only myself to blame your highness.." Kenshi was quick to reassure him as he reach up to hold the prince's hand that was resting on his face.

And so they embraced each other with Kenshi's head on top of Y/N.

And Mileena not so subtle peeking at them with the biggest smile, feeling happy and being supportive for them. Of course Johnny and Kung Lao also happy too :')

After the whole battle and Titan Shang defeated, Kenshi and the rest all gather at Madam's bo to celebrate. Of course Kenshi wanted to see Y/N again, and Liu Kang helped him as well so that he can travel with ease.

And so Kenshi not long after that revisit Outworld without any issues.

And now both Y/N and Kenshi sitting together at the balcony in the isolated part of the great hall, not wanting any distractions. With Y/N leaning against Kenshi while he had his left arm prop behind him, just enjoying each other's company.

Soon enough Y/N decided to turn his face towards Kenshi's while he is staring faraway. Which grant the prince's opportunity to admire the samurai's side profile, his jawline and the stubble beard which makes him even more handsome. Kenshi noticed the staring before looking at the prince, even if his eyes weren't there but it felt like time has stopped as they stared at each other.

Soon enough Kenshi move first before Y/N leaning in as they captured each other's lips in a soft kiss which slowly escalating into a passionate make out session.

And they were content with each other and don't plan to let each other go obviously.

Of course Mileena is at the far back hiding behind a plant, spying on them but mostly making sure Y/N's safe, before returning to hee Empress's duty after seeing them lovebirds starts eating each other face out.

——————————————————————

A/N : And that's a wrap for now. I hope you enjoy this fic since it's been 9 months since i was gonna write this fic but i did it before this year ends. Was thinking about doing one with our soft boi Syzoth but we'll see. Until then i bid you farewell and take care ♡.

[curliiwurlii]

Let’s Start the Day! (Alt tape)

After solving another tedious puzzle, Riley finally got another tape. Instead of a brand-new tape, however, it’s one they’ve watched before- “Let’s Start the Day”.

Confused by the reappearance of a previous tape, they put it in the VCR.

The video is already much different from the last, starting off with the perspective of what seems to be someone on a hospital bed, with 2 surgeons above them, everything having a hazy look to it. After some time, the patient’s eyes close.

Suddenly, the tape quickly switches to the episode with a title card saying “Let’s Start the Day!” with music in the background glitching in and out. The title card fades away, with Amanda rising from her bed, yawning and then looking out the window.

“Good- morning… b-birdies…” Amanda trails off, her smile transitioning into pure horror. The music quickly fades away as the camera changes to the view of the outside-but instead of birds chirping at the window, they’re dead. Rotting. Bugs picking at their flesh.

Amanda turns away from the window, her eyes quickly darting to the camera.

“I-I’m Amanda! Let’s start the day!” She says, worry still seeping through her words.

“First, I need to make my bed. Will you help me? We need to fluff the pillows and smooth out the blanket. Which should we do first?”

Riley chooses to tap on the pillows.

Amanda is about to hop on the bed, but suddenly stops.

“Actually, you know what? It doesn’t matter- I’m too tired to do this, anyway.” Amanda says, running her eyes. “I don’t even want to do anything today, not after that horrible dream… what kind of dreams do you have?”

“What if I tell her something SHE’s afraid of? It might be a way to get more info out of her…” Riley thinks. After pondering for a moment, they say their answer to the screen.

“The butcher.”

“STOP REMINDING ME-“ The static cuts Amanda off, resuming the episode as how it was supposed to be.

“I should probably head downstairs for breakfast. It’s my favorite meal of the day! But first, I’ll have to get dressed.” Amanda opens her closet, only to find dirty shirts and shorts with mud all over them.

“Oh COME ON! Now I have nothing to wear today!” Amanda whines, stomping her foot on the ground. “Sigh… I’ll just have to wear these pajamas for the rest of the day.” she says, walking out of her room.

The static cuts to Wooly in the kitchen, sleeping with his head on the kitchen counter. Stomping can be heard from the stairs, waking Wooly up.

“Wh-whuh?” He mumbles, as Amanda angrily enters the room. “Oh, morning Amanda. What’s up?” He asks, still drowsy as he rubs his eyes.

“Ugh, this morning has been the WORST! The birds are dead outside, all my clothes are dirty, and worst of all… I had the SCARIEST. NIGHTMARE. EVR!” She responds, clearly exhausted of just about everything now.

“Oh god, you too?” Wooly asks, surprised by her response. “Geez, looks like we both didn’t have much sleep. Haha…”

“Oh forget it. I’m heading to the couch.”

“Oh, okay then…”

A few seconds pass before Wooly breaks the silence. “I guess I’ll be making breakfast today… oh boy.”

Wooly hops off of his chair and walks towards the camera, but stops for a moment. “Wait a minute… YOU can help me make breakfast today!” He points to the camera as Riley turns around to find one of those toy kitchen sets with plastic food. Already familiar with random things appearing out of nowhere by now, they turn back to the TV.

“I think it’s best to make toast or bacon. I won’t be eating a lot, so it’ll mostly be for Amanda. With that said, would you like to help me make bacon or toast?” Wooly pulls out a plate of raw bacon and a loaf of bread from behind him.

“Bacon sounds good.” Riley says, as Wooly places the toast back in the fridge.

“Aw man, I can’t find anything to cook the bacon with. Do you have anything over there?”

Riley turns around to find different items all over the Kid’s Corner. “Just like before” they thought. After walking around the area, they suddenly get an idea. “What if I get the wrong items for him?” They wonder, since they haven’t seen much of Wooly getting irritated.

“Are you done yet? I’m starving here!” Wooly scolds from the TV.

Riley quickly grabs a torch from in front of the TV and places it on top of the TV to give it to him.

“I can’t cook bacon with THAT. Can you cooperate with me for just 5 minutes?” Wooly says, already losing his patience.

“Alright, alright.” Riley responds, irritated by his nagging. However, still interested in getting him angry, they pick up a lighter and place it on top of the TV again.

“Are you KIDDING ME?? What will it take for you to not mess with us?! Do you LIKE seeing us mad or something?!” Wooly yells, fed up with Riley’s shit.

The screen fills up with red static, the noise louder than ever. Riley can hear thumping from the vents above them, already regretting their decision.

The static cuts in and out, as Wooly holds his head, his fingers deep in his wool, breathing heavily. “No…no…” he whimpers, as the static finally stops and he raises his head to the camera.

“Please, just get the pan already.” Wooly demands, his voice tired and irritated. Fearing their life, Riley quickly grabs the pan that’s already in front of them in a split second and gives it to the TV.

“Finally.” Wooly mumbles. “Now, what should I use to cook the bacon- the refrigerator, the sink, or the stove?”

Riley taps on the stove.

“Good job! Time to FINALLY make some bacon. First, put the stove to high and put some oil on it once it’s hot enough.” Wooly grabs the oil bottle next to him. “Don’t do this at home, kids!” He whispers as he drizzles oil onto the pan.

Riley turns around to find a toy pan and plastic bacon on the kitchen set. They walk over to it and place the bacon on the pan and turn the knob on the toy stove to a high heat. A sizzling noise can be heard from a speaker.

Riley walks back to the TV as it glitches to the bacon now being on the stove near Wooly.

“Oooohh, it smells so good! I love the smell of bacon in the-“ Wooly stops as he jumps at the sight of the opossum on top of the fridge, observing the bacon. “Why are YOU here?! What on earth do you want?!” He quickly turns to the camera with an angry look on his face. “Get this guy out of here!”

Riley taps on the TV to make an attempt at making the opossum leave. The TV then glitches, with the opossum giving them a dirty face, hopping off of the fridge and out of the kitchen.

“My god… I’m WAY too tired for all this…” Wooly complains, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. He then turns around to check on the bacon, only to find that it’s now burnt with tons of smoke rising from it.

“DANG IT!!”

He quickly turns off the stove as Amanda enters the kitchen again.

Riley turns around to find the plastic bacon now melted on the pan. “How the hell..?” Confused by how it melted, they turn back to the TV.

“Hey, what’s that smell?” She asks as she quickly notices the giant smoke coming from the pan. “My god, Wooly, what did you do?!”

“I-I tried to make bacon for breakfast today and it all ended up getting burned!” Wooly whines, taking the pan to the trash bin and throwing the bacon out.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t make us breakfast.” Wooly says, hanging his head low.

“But… I’m so hungry…” Amanda whines.

“Me too.”

About a minute passes before Amanda speaks again.

“I hate this.”

Static fills the screen and the tape falls out of the VCR.

Author’s Note: MY FIRST AMANDA FANFIC LETS GOOOO!!! I’m super proud of this as it’s the first fanfic I’ve EVER written and now I wanna make more!! Let me know what you guys think and what you liked about this. Have a great day/night!!

[meamiki]

mira !!! :]

[the-meme-monarch]

yeah that ship is fine it's whatever (<- hates it badly but doesn't have any reason to and doesn't want to seem like an ass over it)

[necrotic-nephilim]

bftc jaytim fuck nasty in their batman suits🩷

CORRECT THEY DO. it's like you live in my brain, anon. and for that, you get a full fic bc i've wanted to write this anyway and you gave me an excuse to. have 6k words worth of dirtybadwrong JayTim. rough sex, blood play, pain play, degradation, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove vibes so be warned. but also enjoy bc ily for this thought anon 🩷

“You look ridiculous in that get-up. Like a kid out for trick-or-treats.” The words were just as brutal as the fight was. Jason had the bodyweight and training to easily pin Tim, now that he was done toying around. 

Of course, toying around for Jason Todd looked like bloody slashes across Tim’s back, base of his skull, and his forehead. Picking one of Bruce’s older suits may have been a bad idea on Tim’s part. The armor was thinner and easier for Jason to slash through with a batarang in a clenched fist. 

Tim had managed to knock the batarang out of Jason’s hand, but that also seemed like a bad idea now, with Jason on top of Tim. His fists were even more brutal, blunt weapons and he’d reinforced the gloves to make his punches hit harder across Tim’s face. 

There was blood pouring from Tim’s nose and mouth. With all the pain flaring across his body, it was hard for him to get a good read on if anything was broken or not. 

All he knew was it hurt. His head spun from slamming against the concrete. It was hard for Tim to blink his eyes into focus. And when he did, he wished he hadn’t. Jason was leaning in so close, his mask was all Tim could see. Tim dizzily wondered how the glowing eyes didn’t impede Jason’s vision. 

“Look at me,” Jason demanded. His voice was robotic behind the thick metal mouthpiece. One of his fists pulled back for another punch. “Do you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?”

By some miracle, Tim managed to catch the punch before it connected with his face. The muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed at the animalistic strength Jason pushed back with, inching his fist closer and closer to connecting. If it did manage to connect, Tim knew his own hand in the way wouldn’t do much to soften the blow. If anything, Jason would shatter Tim’s knuckles against his own nose.

Not a pretty thought.

“That mad I said no to being your Robin?” Tim wheezed. It was hard to get air in his lungs, with Jason perched on his chest, putting all his weight on Tim’s midsection. 

Jason scoffed with cruel amusement. “You’re a second choice, Drake. It doesn’t matter to me if you say no, I can always ask the original. He’d at least put up a better fight than you’re managing.”

Tim couldn’t argue that. He thought he’d have some kind of chance in a fight against Jason, but it was a losing game to confront Jason on his turf, in a suit Tim wasn’t comfortable in. He was too stupid to even bring his bo staff.

A great Batman he was turning out to be.

With bloody teeth, Tim smiled. “You’re right. Is that why I’m your reflection, Jason? Two second rate Robins who will never be the original?” He managed a laugh against protesting ribs. “For what it’s worth, I still think I’m better than you. Least I didn’t die.”

He couldn’t see the look on Jason’s face, but he didn’t need to. The feral yell that came out of Jason spoke for itself at how well Tim got under his skin. Jason’s other fist came barreling toward Tim’s face, but he managed to move his head out of the way, making it only connect with the ground. Jason’s punch was hard enough to make the concrete crack.

Even with the reinforced gloves, that had to hurt. Maybe a couple cracked bones, if Tim was lucky. Jason couldn’t hit as hard if he injured himself. 

That was a solid plan. If he’d actually planned it in the first place. 

“Can’t believe I ever liked you, Drake,” Jason snarled, pulling his hand free from the concrete. He flexed his fingers just a bit too slow. He definitely hurt himself, even if he was trying to hide it. Jason went for his utility belt, grabbing another batarang. 

“Flattering,��� Tim deadpanned. He tried to elbow Jason in the neck, but Jason easily twisted away from the blow. 

“I really did you know,” Jason said. Maybe it was the mask, but Tim could’ve sworn Jason’s tone changed slightly. “If Bruce hadn’t corrupted you, you really could’ve been something.”

Tim ignored the comment about Bruce. Bruce’s death was too raw for Tim to be able to look at his grief about it head-on. “Can’t say the feeling was mutual,” Tim grunted. He tried to slash his glove fins across Jason’s face. But Jason was smarter. He had a more durable suit that made the blow easily glance off. 

Damn Tim for picking this suit. He idealized Bruce’s image too much and forwent practicality. He was paying for it now. A new suit would’ve had proper weapons worked into the wrists for Tim to easily flick out. 

“I don’t know about that,” Jason mocked with a cold laugh. “Remind me again Drake, who broke me out of prison?”

He had a point. 

“Real great job you’ve done repaying that kindness,” Tim muttered. He avoided addressing it directly. He didn’t owe Jason his reasons. Especially not with how they’d all blown up in his face. 

“I never needed your kindness,” Jason growled. He wrapped a hand around Tim’s throat and pressed down just enough to make it uncomfortable for Tim to breathe. “That’s what all you Bats could never get through your skulls. I didn’t need to be Bruce’s pity project, and I definitely didn’t need to be yours.”

“Trust me,” Tim fought to get the words out, trying to worm his fingers under Jason’s grip. “You don’t have my pity.”

“What do I have, then?”

“My contempt.” The more Tim struggled, the tighter Jason’s grip got. The sharp points of his claws were starting to dig into Tim’s skin and draw blood. Blood flow was cut off from Tim’s brain and he fought to keep hold of his consciousness. 

“Liar,” Jason hissed. “No one else is here, Tim. You don’t have to pretend and hide things from me I already know.”

Maybe passing out would be a good thing. Then, Tim would have a convenient reason for not answering Jason. A reason to not face the truth Jason wanted him to bare.

Tim knew that Jason probably knew. The way they’d looked at each other through the prison safety glass when Jason was locked up had a thousand unspoken words in just a shared smile. A promise, that maybe, if Jason cleaned himself up with this second chance, there could be something between them.

But Jason didn’t clean up. He flung himself in the opposite direction, if anything. A growing body count and an ugly reign of terror that was Tim’s job to stop.

He started this. He put misplaced faith in Jason. Tim’s bad judgment jeopardized Gotham. 

And now Jason wanted the unspoken part said out loud. Something a part of Tim would rather die than admit after all this. They both already knew. Making Tim say it was just an obvious attempt to humiliate him and Tim refused to sink to Jason’s level.

All this over a stupid crush. 

“Fine,” Jason continued when Tim didn’t say anything. “I’ll say it for you. You loved me.”

Tim made a face and twisted, finally forcing Jason’s hand free from his neck with a hard strike to his inner elbow. “It wasn’t love,” he insisted through grit teeth.

“What was it then?”

Tim didn’t say a word. He wasn’t going to give in to Jason’s cruelty.

“Tell you what,” Jason’s voice dropped low and almost sultry. “If you say it out loud, I’ll give you a free pass. No one will know.”

“A free pass?”

There was no way Jason was implying what Tim thought he was.

“Right here, right now.” Jason nodded. “Can’t say I’ll make it sweet, but something tells me you’re not the vanilla type anyway.”

Shit. He was implying that. Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

The answer should’ve been obvious. 

The answer was obvious. Tim was laying in a growing pool of his own blood because of Jason. Countless people were dead because of Jason. Bruce’s legacy was being destroyed because of Jason. Whatever little crush Tim had once had was long gone and replaced with disgust and hatred.

Most of it was. 

But some small piece of Tim clung to the way Jason grinned at him. And that small piece of him seemed to be steering the rest of him, making him hesitate on what should’ve been an easy answer. An easy chance to catch Jason off guard and get the upper hand in the fight.

Tim hoped the cowl hid enough of his face that his expression wasn’t readable. 

“Over my dead body,” Tim forced the words out, pulling himself back into reality. Praying Jason wouldn’t read into the pause. 

Jason’s body shifted. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and brought the batarang clenched in his fist to Tim’s neck, easily finding the jugular. “So be it. I agree anyway. Killing you is the best way to cut this goddamn feeling out of me.”

“What feeling?” Tim frowned, fingers twitching as he stalled, trying to think of a real plan. 

“No, no.” Jason shook his head and laughed. It was a hollow sound, this time. “You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. If you won’t say it, then I won’t either.”

Oh.

“You…” Tim sucked in a breath. He was on death’s edge, a blade to his neck, but somehow it was the furthest thing from his spinning mind. “You like me? Like that?” He said it like a stupid high schooler, too shy to even look their crush in the eye. 

“What difference does it make now?” Jason shifted his weight on Tim, bearing down more. “This was always how it was going to end, between us.”

“It makes all the difference,” Tim said. He didn’t know why it did. But he knew it did. Tim reached a hand up, but instead of going for Jason’s batarang, he went further. His fingers reached under his own cowl and tugged it off, baring his face to Jason. 

Vulnerability. A metaphorical white flag, surrendering to Jason. 

Tim was dangerously close to getting himself killed. He could feel it, in his beating heart and overflowing adrenaline. 

“I would’ve come at this from a different angle if I knew…” Tim started, before trailing off. They were still dancing around saying it directly.

Jason barked out another laugh. “Oh, would you? What, you would’ve come to talk instead of fight? You really think that would’ve worked?”

“Maybe-“

“I told you,” Jason’s grip on the batarang tightened, “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

“And you don’t have it,” Tim snapped back. Too angry. This angle was quickly slipping away from him. Shit. “You’re a psychopathic killer and I don’t know if you can ever been redeemed after what you’ve done. But I would’ve tried out of love, not pity, you sanctimonious asshole.”

Jason stuttered. He leaned back and breathed hard. Tim really wished he wasn’t wearing that stupid mask. “You said it wasn’t love.”

Tim took in a deep breath, and let himself fall over the ledge he’d been trying so hard to cling to since Jason pinned him. “I lied.”

For a moment, Tim was convinced he’d just sealed his own coffin. Whatever Jason’s feelings were, it didn’t seem like they were any particular deterrent to hurting Tim. He was inches away from killing Tim and leaving his body for someone else to find.

If they found Tim’s body at all.

But instead. Instead, Jason reached up and ripped the metal part of his mask off, tossing it aside to skitter off into the darkness.

And he kissed Tim.

Tim let out the breath he was holding against Jason’s mouth. And in turn, Jason breathed him in, greedy with his kiss. The batarang was kept firm against Tim’s throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Jason was kissing him. 

There was still the logical side of him screaming just how bad of an idea this was. All the reasons he could think of to not tangle with Jason were running circles across his mind. 

Tim ignored them and kissed Jason back. 

Jason tasted like metal and he smelled like gunpowder. Both of those things made sense and made Tim want more. He wanted every single part of Jason he could drink up, even from a single kiss. Jason’s tongue was in his mouth, licking and opening Tim up. They shared each other’s blood through the kiss, until Tim couldn’t tell whose was whose. 

The kiss was broken by Jason just as suddenly as it was started. Jason pulled back and raised the batarang. Panic flashed through Tim and he instinctively threw his hands up to cover his face and neck. 

The batarang slashed through Tim’s suit though, thankfully not giving him what might’ve been the stupidest death in the history of vigilantism. Jason didn’t seem to care about making sure the cut didn’t get Tim’s skin, though. Shallow wounds sprang across Tim’s skin and he hissed, watching Jason turn the suit to ribbons. The batarang was then tossed aside so Jason could rip off the suit as he leaned back. 

The bat symbol on Tim’s chest stayed in tact, but everything below it was ripped away, exposing him from his abs down to his thighs. Jason knew exactly how to unclip the utility belt and throw that aside, with the shreds of fabric. 

Cold air hit Tim’s most private areas. He wanted to cover himself, but he couldn’t get his hands to obey. His entire body was paralyzed under Jason’s gaze.

“Take off your mask,” Tim found his voice, rough and not sounding like himself.

Jason wore a cruel smirk. “No.” He did take off his gloves, though. Tim didn’t hide his sigh of relief. He didn’t want those claws on his skin. He was bleeding enough as it was.

The moment Jason’s hands were bare, he ran them over Tim’s skin. Tim hissed and flinched, but didn’t pull away. He let Jason’s warm hands claim his skin. Jason wasn’t kind or gentle. He smeared Tim’s blood around, exploring every bare inch. Tim’s stomach, his hips, his back, his legs. 

Jason curled a hand around Tim’s dick and Tim’s back arched. 

To be fair, this wasn’t exactly how he’d pictured sleeping with Jason. Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain. 

Jason jerked Tim off rough and fast. The blood on his hand was slick enough to make a smooth glide over the callouses of his palm. Tim groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked into Jason’s hand. As much pain as his body was in, the pleasure was too distracting for him to care. Tim choked on every breath he managed to take in, unable to stop himself from crying out and whining.

His body was screaming at him because of what Jason had done to him. And now, he was letting himself fall apart to Jason’s hands in a different way. 

“If Grayson found us, he’d think I was fucking torturing you from all the pathetic noises you’re making,” Jason growled. He barely sounded human. He slid his other hand up Tim’s chest and grabbed Tim’s face, stroking his cheek. 

Tim groaned at the thought. He forced his eyes to open just so he could look at Jason. He really wished Jason would take the cowl off. Tim wanted to see Jason’s face more than anything. 

“Don’t bring him up,” Tim gasped, practically humping Jason’s hand for more delirious pleasure. “I don’t want to think about him now.”

At least he could see Jason’s smirk. “Why? Because you know he’d disapprove?”

“Because I want to think about you.” Tim tried to grab at Jason’s suit to pull it off. His hands were clumsy and shaky though, probably from blood loss. All he could do was uselessly press them against Jason’s chest and feel the warmth through layers of armor.

“Fuck,” Jason groaned. His whole body shuddered, affected by Tim’s words alone. Jason stopped jerking Tim off so he could unclip his belt. He kept his other hand against Tim’s face though. Stroking it. “Least I know why you broke me out of prison, now.”

Tim made an aghast noise. “This is not why I broke you out of prison.”

Jason leaned in close, resting his face against Tim’s. “You still broke me out. So all my blood is on your hands too, Tim.” He pressed a kiss against Tim’s temple. “Bruce wouldn’t have been stupid enough to do that. Hell of a Batman you make.” It was like he had crawled into Tim’s brain just to voice all the awful little thoughts that Tim tried to bury. 

“You-“ Tim tried to snap back, but he was distracted by the sound of Jason undoing a clasp, then a zipper. Tim looked down and watched, breath caught in his throat, as Jason pulled his cock out of his pants.

He was already hard. 

Jason’s hand smeared blood across his member. Tim swallowed at the sight. Jason had pushed his pants down just enough to expose a sliver of pale skin. He had a sharp v-line and toned muscles just from the bit Tim could see. An embarrassing noise came out of Tim’s throat.

“Pathetic,” Jason said, but he groaned on the word, working his hand over himself. It was filthy. Both of them, covered in blood, and Jason jerking off on top of Tim. 

Tim wrapped an arm around Jason. He wanted to sink his fingers into Jason’s hair, but he settled for wrapping them around the back of Jason’s cowl. Tim seriously considered trying to pull the cowl off himself, but he doubted Jason would take kindly to it. 

The noises Jason made as he pleasured himself were beautiful. Tim’s sounds were animalistic and, in Jason’s own words, pathetic. Barely human sounding. But Jason. Jason sounded practically divine, low and smooth as he moaned in Tim’s ear. 

“Please,” Tim gasped. He wasn’t sure what he was asking for.

“That desperate?” Jason downright purred. 

Tim didn’t hold himself back from nodding. He swallowed down his dignity. 

If he had any dignity left.

“I’m not going to be gentle,” Jason warned. Like he was giving Tim one last chance to back out.

Tim just laughed. “If you think I want you to be gentle, you really don’t know a thing about me.”

A guttural groan came out of Jason. He pulled back and lifted one of Tim’s legs, bending it as far back as he could. Tim wasn’t quite as flexible as Dick was, but Jason got pretty far before Tim’s muscles protested and he winced. 

“Of course you shave down there,” Jason commented. He slid a hand over Tim’s smooth skin around his cock and balls.

“I don’t like pubes getting caught in my suit,” Tim huffed, trying not to let his cheeks go red.

“Don’t worry,” Jason hummed, “I think it’s cute. Makes you look like a fucking virgin.”

“I’m not.” Like it mattered.

Jason paused, just staring at Tim. Was he disappointed? It was hard to tell. “I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, so it doesn’t matter either way.” Whether or not he was disappointed was masked with a rough, possessive anger that made Tim gasp.

Rough fingers ran over the shallow cuts on Tim’s stomach and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain. It wasn’t easy to ignore the dull throbbing when Jason was practically fingering the open wounds. Tim almost asked what the hell he was doing, before he realized Jason was smearing blood across his fingers, getting them slick and coated.

“Seriously? You’re going to use my own blood to fuck me?” Tim asked, like just the thought of it wasn’t making him spread his legs wider. Still, the idea of cleaning tacky blood out of himself did make Tim internally cringe.

“You got a better idea?” Jason shot back. 

“I think there’s lube in-“

“No.” Jason cut him off, pressing harder into the cuts just to make Tim wince. “We’re doing it my way, or I just leave you in a pool of your own blood with a hard-on.”

“Okay.” Tim caved instantly with a hushed whisper at the rough dominance. 

It was so easy, for Jason to take complete control of Tim. He was putty in Jason’s hands, content to be manipulated however Jason wanted, so long as Tim got his own pleasure out of it. If Jason wanted Tim to bleed, he would bleed. If he wanted Tim to be spread open and ready to be fucked, then Tim would give him that too.

Christ. He needed to be checked out mentally after this. 

Jason gave Tim a pleased hum, probably the closest thing to praise Tim was going to get out of him. He’d take it. Blood slick fingers pressed against Tim’s hole. Two fingers were forced in at once, hard and fast.

Tim screamed.

He didn’t expect Jason to be gentle, but it seemed like Jason was going out of his way to be rough. Scrapping his nails against Tim’s insides and brutally twisting his fingers around. He didn’t try to hit Tim’s prostate to bring any kind of pleasure. The brushes of his fingers over that spot were more painful than pleasurably, if anything. Fast and rough, giving Tim no chance to soak up the sparks of sensation from the bundle of nerves.

“Oh god,” Tim groaned, throwing his head back. His hips twitched violently, like they weren’t sure to press into Jason’s fingers for more, or to try to pull away from the horrible assault.

It’d been a while since Tim had been in this much pain. So battered from a fight that every movement of his body was weak and shaky. He grabbed onto Jason’s arm, desperate for an anchor. He couldn’t have pulled Jason off of him, even if he wanted to.

He didn’t, though. Tim wanted this to last as long as it possibly could. 

He never got to drown himself in the pain. Pain was something that had to be compartmentalized and ignored, for the sake of the mission. Getting back on his feet and ignoring the way his body screamed at him was one of the first things Bruce taught him. 

Now, Tim didn’t have to fight it. He could just give in. The half-hearted instincts from his body trying to fight back were ignored by Jason. Like Jason knew that Tim wanted this. 

Needed this. 

At some point, Jason must’ve worked a third finger inside of Tim. He didn’t notice. The burning stretch swirled with every other point of pain on his body. 

He did noticed when Jason finally decided to purposefully press against Tim’s prostate.

This pleasure was new. Foreign and overstimulating with how aggressively Jason pressed down on the spot, rubbing into it to pull all kinds of noises out of Tim he didn’t know he was capable of making. 

“Jason!” Tim cried out. “Fuck, too much, I can’t-“ Tim’s stomach was cramping from how hard his muscles clenched. He was falling, losing his grip on sensible reality. His head was full of cotton, foggy and unable to get a solid grip on coherent thought.

There were only three things that existed to Tim: pain, pleasure, and Jason. 

“You can’t what? Use your fucking words,” Jason mocked, vicious and uncaring. He rested Tim’s leg over his shoulder to free up his other hand. His fingers wrapped around Tim’s balls and tugged. Tim screamed and arched like a jack knife. He hadn’t noticed how close his orgasm was creeping up on him until Jason pulled it away with a brutal, carnal pain. When Tim lost control of his body, Jason found it and snatched it up, holding Tim’s pleasure in his palm. Tim wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldn’t force his limbs to obey. 

“Hurts,” was all Tim could groan out. He might’ve been crying. It was hard to tell, with his face so wet with blood. 

“Good.”

“Jason,” Tim tried to beg. He was lost to subspace, something he barely realized until now. “I can’t take anymore.” He wanted more. More than want, god, he needed more, but his body was wired so tight Tim was convinced he was going to snap if Jason kept going. 

He wanted that too.

“That’s not for you to decide.” Jason’s rough voice was a light at the end of a tunnel Tim was struggling toward to ground himself. To focus on something besides the agony crashing over his body in brutal waves. “Do you really think you’re in the fucking state to know what you can take?”

Jason was right. Tim just whined, a noise that turned into a choked sob when Jason pulled his fingers out just enough to slam them into Tim’s sweet spot again, overwhelming him with more awful pleasure. 

“Give yourself over to me,” Jason demanded. He leaned in close again. Tim’s vision was blurred, but he could smell the gunpowder and leather. “Say it. Say I own you.”

Tim wanted to. He tried, opening his mouth and struggling to get the words out. He could only make more pathetic noises.

“Say it, or I’ll stab you and leave you to fucking bleed out.”

He probably wasn’t lying.

“You-“ Tim choked on the word, shaking so hard his muscles were spasming. “You own me.” Three little words, and they were the hardest words Tim had ever tried to say. Each one fought against him, getting stuck in his throat. 

But he said them. Because right now, they were the only religion Tim believed in. 

“Look at that,” Jason cooed. So patronizing. “You’re not completely brainless and worthless. Yet, anyway.” He pulled his fingers out of Tim. One second those fingers had been driving Tim mad because they were inside of him, and now they were driving him mad because they left him empty and wanting. 

His body needed more. More pain, more pleasure. Until he broke and Jason fucked the shattered pieces left of Tim. 

Jason got a hand underneath Tim, using the blood from the gash on Tim’s back to slick his fingers this time. That gash was far deeper. Something that probably needed stitches. It had started trying to clot but Jason agitated it enough for fresh blood to pour out. He was able to actually work his fingers under Tim’s bloody skin, making Tim shriek and try to pull away. 

There was nowhere for him to escape from the mind-numbing pain. When he pulled away, he just crashed into Jason’s chest, forehead bumping against the bat symbol of Jason’s suit. 

“So fucking easy to push your buttons,” Jason laughed. He moved his fingers around a bit more just to make his point and pull more wounded noises out of Tim. Then he finally pulled them free and let Tim fall back to the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of Tim.

He didn’t have a chance to try to get air into his lungs. Because Jason slicked himself up with a disturbing speed and lined up. The warning of blunt pressure against Tim’s hole lasted a fraction of a second and then Jason snapped his hips. Buried to the hilt.

Tim almost passed out.

He didn’t know if it was from the pain, the blood loss, or his body’s inability to get oxygen into his lungs. Everything exploded inside of Tim. He was full, so full so fast. Jason’s fingers hadn’t been nearly kind enough to properly stretch Tim for Jason’s size. It almost felt like being stabbed.

Over and over, as Jason fucked into Tim with no kindness. 

A hard slap across Tim’s face forced him off of the edge of unconsciousness. He gasped, eyes snapping open to find Jason’s face right above his, the glowing eyes of the mask taking over Tim’s field of vision. 

Jason was smiling. Blood on his teeth, dripping out of his mouth. Was it his blood or Tim’s?

Tim hoped it was both. 

“I don’t know which Bruce would find more pathetic,” Jason groaned as he fucked into Tim, pulling small screams out of Tim with each punch of his cock, “you putting on that suit, or you letting me fuck you in it.” He brought his lips to Tim’s ear. “Who’s ruining his legacy now?”

If the physical pain wasn’t bad enough, Jason knew exactly how to rip open the wounds of Tim’s emotional pain alongside it. Tim cried out at the thought. 

What would Bruce think of him, like this? Pathetic and barely human underneath Jason Todd?

“And they call me the failed Robin,” Jason just kept talking, like he wasn’t destroying Tim from the inside out. “At least I know how to be something other than Robin. Are you really delusional enough to think you’re going to be the next Batman?” A long moan came out of him and he thrust even harder until Tim screamed loud enough to make himself dizzy. “Answer me.”

Tim just shook his head. “No.” His voice was broken. His throat was sore from screaming, but the word still came out. He’d never thought he really could be Batman. So what the hell was he thinking, putting this suit on?

“Good.” Jason slid his fingers under the bat symbol on Tim’s chest, one of the only parts of the suit in tact. He ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly in Tim’s ears. “It’s good you know your fucking place.” Jason changed his angle, finding Tim’s battered prostate again. Tim didn’t have the air in his lungs to scream anymore. All he could do was weakly mewl and whimper.

He could die like this. He honestly might. Tim had no idea how his body was holding on, in this state. Maybe it was the pain and pleasure alone keeping him alive. Just so he could soak up every touch from Jason.

Tim was never going to allow himself to do this again. So he had to enjoy it while it lasted.

This time, Tim felt his orgasm creeping up on him. His fingers dug into Jason’s arm and he pressed up into Jason’s warmth. The material of Jason’s suit was rough and unforgiving. It didn’t feel particularly good for Tim to grind his cock against, but he didn’t care. He needed any kind of friction, whether it brought him pleasure or road rash. 

“I won’t stop if you come,” Jason warned, still hammering into Tim at a pace that should’ve been impossible for a normal human to manage. “This isn’t to make you feel good. It’s to put you in your fucking place.”

Tim could only whine, managing a nod of understanding. This was his place. He knew that. He never wanted to leave it. 

The threat of being fucked into overstimulation hung over Tim’s head, but he couldn’t stop himself from chasing the high of his orgasm. He almost wanted to feel the overstimulation. Like his orgasm was just something to get over with so Tim could completely give himself over to Jason. To be used just for Jason’s pleasure, even if it brought him nothing but more pain. 

That thought made Tim’s balls tighten. The only warning he could give Jason was a high pitched keen that barely sounded like Tim’s own voice. His eyes rolled back.

The pleasure of his orgasm didn’t overtake the screaming pain in the rest of his body. It just mixed with the pain, swirling into one intense feeling Tim didn’t have a name for. He screamed until his throat gave out. His back arched and he clenched around Jason, who kept driving into him. Jason growled in Tim’s ear. He was holding Tim’s hip so tight there would be bruises that would end up indistinguishable from the rest of Tim’s injuries.

All injuries that Jason gave Tim. Tim’s body was a canvass, and Jason’s favorite color to paint with was the red that poured out of Tim. 

It was the best orgasm Tim had ever felt. No feeling was ever going to match this intensity. 

Tim came down from his high with an awful wheeze, shuddering. He clung to Jason, like a guard dog laying at the feet of his master. 

“Fuck,” Jason moaned. A shudder ran down his spine and his pace faltered, just for a moment. “You’re really something else, Drake.” From Jason, that was practically a compliment for Tim to soak up and preen under. 

Tim’s body tipped over the edge of overstimulation. His survival instincts kicked in, trying to fight Jason. There was no strength behind his kicks and hits. They just made Jason laugh as Tim made a fool of himself.

“I own you,” Jason reminded Tim. He caught Tim’s wrist and pinned it against the cold concrete, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation to Tim’s fingers. “I can do whatever I want to your useless body. Don’t try to fight it now.” He leaned down and found an exposed part of Tim’s neck to sink his teeth into. It wasn’t a hickey, but a proper bite, breaking Tim’s skin. 

Tim cried out, but still tilted his head to the side to give Jason better access to his neck. Even when his body wanted to fight, Tim managed to submit. Like the submission was natural to him. 

The pain took over. Tim just floated in it, forcing himself to go limp. Submit. No more fighting. He gave in to Jason and stopping thinking. All Tim needed to do was feel. Feel every point of agony scattered across his body. Feel Jason fucking him. Using him, like Tim was nothing more than a toy. The sparks from Jason slamming into his sweet spot couldn’t be called pleasure anymore, with Tim’s cock spent and limp. It was more pain. 

Better that way. Tim liked the pain more. Delicious and mind-numbing. 

Jason was swearing against Tim’s skin. He mumbled something Tim didn’t catch. Three syllables. Short and rushed out. Tim was almost convinced the second word was love. Maybe he was making it up in his head though, finally lost in utter delirium.

Tim didn’t care.

More insults fell from Jason’s lips. Calling Tim nothing, worthless, pathetic. A cheap pretender who deserved this. Tim agreed with all of it, feverishly nodding. The words were practically sweet nothings in Tim’s ears. 

Jason yelled Tim’s name when he came. His hips stuttered to a stop, buried deep inside of Tim. He knew Jason was coming inside of him, but his body was too battered to feel Jason’s cum filling his insides. Shame that was. Tim wanted to know how it felt, to be claimed by Jason in this carnal way.

They were both so perfectly still, for two people who had been shaking and clawing at each other just moments ago. The only noise was heavy breathing that echoed through the night.

Tim swallowed. He tried to find himself through the pain. He worked through the body checklist that Bruce gave him. Vision. Smell. Taste. Feel. Sound. All the sensations clashed against each other, out of focus and pounding against Tim’s skull.

It was so hard to think.

Tim groaned. Focus. 

Like cold water thrown on his face, he clawed his way out of subspace. Tim got a good look at Jason’s face.

“Are you crying?” Tim voiced the thought as soon as it crossed his mind. 

With the mask, it was hard to tell. Jason’s breathing was shuddered, hitching on every inhale. Tim wouldn’t call it sobbing, but it was close enough for Tim to study Jason’s face. The wetness coming out from under Jason’s mask wasn’t red. It streaked through the blood. 

Tear tracks. 

Jason’s completely rational response was to punch Tim in the face.

Tim swore and curled in on himself, cupping his nose. If it wasn’t broken before, it was now. Jason pulled out of Tim without any care and stood up, leaving him curled up on the ground, trying to set the broken bone and manage the bleeding.

Tim tried to sit up. His arms and legs gave out under him and he slammed back to the ground with a pained noise. He looked up at Jason, squinting. Watching as Jason tucked himself back into his pants, then snatched his gloves off the ground to put them back on.

Despite clearly losing the fight, Tim had done a number on Jason. Jason’s face was bloody and his suit was ripped and torn in some places. He looked like he had been mauled by a wild animal.

If that was how Jason looked, Tim couldn’t imagine what the sight of his own body was.

His second attempt to sit up worked. Now, he compartmentalized. Forced the pain deep into the corners of his mind and locked it up. 

Tim had to be functional now. He couldn’t let the regret and shame get to him.

“I-“ Jason started to say something. It was only one word, but it sounded uncharacteristically soft, making Tim straighten his back and hold his breath. But Jason cleared his throat and folded his arms, stamping down whatever kindness had almost come out. “I’ll throw you a bone. If any of the Bats find you like this you can just tell them I raped you,” he said it like some kind of mean joke.

Tim didn’t say anything. That wasn’t true. They both knew it.

“Preserve your precious dignity you care so much about, huh?” Jason continued. He sounded unsure of himself and he turned away from Tim. 

“Jason-“ Tim reached out for him. “We can still-“ he struggled for the words. “It doesn’t have to end like this. You can still change. I’ll-“

“Don’t,” Jason snapped. He kicked away Tim’s hand. “We both know it’s too late for that.” He started to walk away. “Never wear that suit again, Drake. I’d hate to see you die to someone that isn’t me.” He almost sounded… protective? Tim wouldn’t call it fondness, but maybe something close to that. Tim refused to allow himself to read into it. Whoever Jason Todd had become, he was someone that Tim couldn’t save. He was someone who didn’t want to be saved, no matter how Tim felt about him. Tim had to accept that, even with Jason’s cum deep inside him. Some truths were immutable. 

Then, Jason was gone. Vanishing into the shadows and leaving Tim there.

Tim tilted his head back. He allowed himself thirty seconds. He counted them. Thirty seconds to sit in his own filth and feel the pain for just a little longer, before he had to move and figure out how he was going to get home in one piece without anyone finding out what happened here.

Just ten more seconds.

Five. 

Three.

One.

With grit teeth and a deep breath, Tim stood up.