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ijustmissyouraccenths · 1 day ago

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A Real Good Doctor

Where Y/N is running and hurts herself but there happens to be a doctor who can help.

Doctor Harry

Word count: 5,108

Content Warning: Falling, blood, stitches.

Y/N pulls open the door to her flat, stepping into the dimly lit hallway. The air inside is warm, carrying the familiar scent of polished wood and faint traces of someone’s morning coffee. She moves quickly down the stairs, her footsteps light against the worn steps. Outside, she knows the city is already awake, but for now, the building is quiet, save for the occasional creak of a door opening on another floor.

As she reaches the lobby, she spots the doorman standing near the entrance, his hands tucked into the pockets of his navy-blue coat. His expression is neutral but kind, a hint of familiarity in the way he straightens slightly at her approach.

“Morning,” she says with a small smile.

“Morning, Miss Y/N. Enjoy your run.”

She nods in thanks before pushing through the heavy glass door. The crisp morning air greets her instantly, cool against her skin but not unpleasant. The street outside is alive with the early stirrings of the city. Cars pass in steady streams, their tires hissing over the damp pavement. The scent of brewing coffee drifts from a cart stationed on the corner, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the lingering morning chill.

She takes a deep breath, stretching her arms overhead before adjusting her sleeves. The city feels different in the morning—calmer, quieter, yet still thrumming with an energy that never quite fades. With one last roll of her shoulders, she takes off at a steady pace, her footsteps blending seamlessly into the rhythm of New York waking up around her.

The wind is chilly as Y/N picks up her pace, the cool air biting at her cheeks as she moves through the city streets. Her breaths come evenly, her body warming with each stride. The rhythm of her footsteps against the pavement is steady, matching the hum of New York around her.

She turns a corner, then another, cutting through familiar side streets where the crowds are thinner. The scent of fresh bread wafts from a bakery as she passes, blending with the ever-present aroma of exhaust and damp pavement. A few early risers sip their coffee at outdoor tables, bundled in light jackets, their conversations a quiet murmur beneath the city’s morning soundtrack.

Her pace quickens, muscles fully awake now as she pushes herself into a full run. The energy of the city fuels her, the blur of storefronts and passing faces barely registering as she weaves between pedestrians. A man in a suit steps aside just in time, his coffee sloshing dangerously in its cup as she brushes past. She dodges a woman walking her dog, then sidesteps a slow-moving couple engrossed in conversation.

The wind rushes past her, her pulse pounding in her ears. She barely notices the slight unevenness in the sidewalk until it is too late.

Y/N’s sneaker catches on a crack in the pavement, the sudden jolt sending a sharp shock through her body. For a split second, she thinks she might be able to steady herself, her arms flinging out in a desperate attempt to regain balance. But gravity is faster.

Her stomach flips as she stumbles forward, her footing completely lost. The world tilts around her, the blur of passing faces and city movement twisting into a mess of colors. A sharp gasp escapes her lips as she realizes there is no way to stop it—she is going down.

The impact comes fast. Her knee slams against the rough pavement first, sending a searing pain up her leg. Her palms hit next, scraping against the cold, unforgiving concrete. The force of the fall knocks the breath from her lungs, leaving her stunned for a moment as she blinks at the ground beneath her.

Pain throbs instantly through her knee, a sharp, burning sensation that spreads as she slowly lifts her hands. The rough asphalt has left angry red scrapes on her skin, and when she looks down, she sees blood beginning to pool around a deep gash in her knee, staining the torn fabric of her leggings.

A mix of frustration and embarrassment bubbles up in her chest as she presses a shaky hand against her wound. Around her, the city moves on, pedestrians barely giving her a second glance as they continue on their way. She takes a slow breath, wincing as she shifts her leg, trying to assess the damage.

Y/N barely has time to catch her breath before she hears footsteps slowing near her. A shadow falls over her, and when she looks up, she sees a man standing just a few feet away. He is dressed in an athletic outfit—black running shorts, a moisture-wicking long-sleeve top, and a pair of well-worn trainers. His hair is neatly styled, not too short but nowhere near long, and his face is flushed, likely from his own run. There is a slight crease between his brows, his green eyes sharp with concern as he looks down at her.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks, his voice steady but gentle.

Y/N’s face flushes instantly with embarrassment. The last thing she wants is attention, especially from a stranger, especially in the middle of a New York sidewalk. She quickly nods, brushing a few strands of hair away from her face as she shifts her weight.

“I’m fine,” she says, forcing a small, tight-lipped smile.

He does not look convinced. His gaze flickers down to her knee, where blood is steadily pooling around the torn fabric of her leggings, staining the pavement beneath her.

“That doesn’t look fine,” he says, crouching down beside her.

Before she can protest, his hands are already reaching out. He is careful but firm as he gently pulls her leg forward, his fingers wrapping around her calf to steady her. The touch is warm even through the thin layer of fabric. Y/N sucks in a sharp breath, her knee throbbing under the new angle.

“It’s not that bad,” she insists, though the pain tells her otherwise.

He lets out a quiet scoff, tilting his head as he inspects the wound. “You’re probably going to need stitches,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “That’s deep. You’ll need a real good doctor to fix you up.”

Y/N shakes her head, already knowing where this is going. “I’ll be fine,” she says again, this time a little firmer. “I can clean it up myself.”

He exhales through his nose, clearly unconvinced. “You should really go to a hospital,” he tells her.

She hesitates before admitting, “I can’t really afford to go to the hospital.”

That makes him pause. His grip on her leg loosens slightly, and for a brief moment, there is something unreadable in his expression. Then, he nods as if he has already made up his mind about something.

“You’re in luck,” he says, his lips quirking into the hint of a smile. “I happen to be a doctor.”

Y/N blinks up at him, her breath still uneven from the fall. She had not expected that. He does not look like a doctor—not in the way she imagined one. His athletic gear, his flushed cheeks from running, the casual confidence in his stance—it all feels too relaxed, too effortless. But there is something about the way he speaks, the calm certainty in his voice, that makes her believe him.

She nods, still slightly dazed. “Oh. Okay.”

He glances back down at her knee, assessing the steady trickle of blood seeping through the torn fabric of her leggings. “My apartment is just around the corner,” he tells her. “I can stitch you up.”

She hesitates, her mind briefly flashing to all the reasons why following a stranger home in New York City is not the best idea. But then she looks at him again—the steady, unshaken way he watches her, the kindness in his eyes, the quiet authority in his voice. Something tells her he is not lying, and right now, with her knee throbbing and blood pooling onto the pavement, she does not have many options.

“Alright,” she agrees, her voice quieter now.

He does not waste any time. Shrugging off his long-sleeve athletic shirt, he kneels down in front of her, gently lifting her leg to wrap the fabric around her knee. His movements are efficient but careful, making sure to apply just enough pressure to slow the bleeding without hurting her more than necessary. Up close, she notices the way his jaw tightens in concentration, the faint sheen of sweat on his forehead from his run.

“This should help for now,” he says, securing the makeshift bandage.

She watches as he straightens, rolling his shoulders back slightly now that he is left in just a fitted short-sleeve undershirt. He reaches out a hand. “Come on, let’s get you to a bench.”

She lets him help her up, wincing as she puts weight on her injured leg. His grip is steady as he guides her toward a nearby bench, keeping a firm hold on her arm to make sure she does not stumble again.

“Sit tight,” he says once she is settled. “I’ll pull my car around.”

Y/N watches as he jogs toward the street, her fingers gripping the bloodied fabric tied around her knee. The city moves around her, indifferent to the small moment unfolding between them. The pain is still there, pulsing through her leg, but it is dulled now by the strange realization that, somehow, she has just been saved by a man she had never seen before.

A sleek black Range Rover pulls up to the curb, the engine purring softly as it slows to a stop. Y/N watches as the doctor steps out, moving around the front of the car with quick, purposeful strides. He opens the passenger door, offering her his hand.

“Come on,” he says, his voice steady but still carrying that edge of concern.

She takes his hand, gripping it tightly as he helps her stand. The pain in her knee flares when she shifts her weight, but he is there, keeping her steady as she eases herself into the plush leather seat. As soon as she settles in, she notices it—the scent lingering in the car. It smells good, clean, and warm, a mix of something woodsy and fresh. It smells like him.

The door shuts with a solid click, and moments later, he is sliding into the driver’s seat beside her. His tattooed hands grip the wheel effortlessly, the ink on his skin stark against the dim morning light filtering through the windshield.

The car moves smoothly down the street, the hum of the city slipping into the background as they drive. Y/N exhales, glancing down at her knee, still wrapped in his makeshift bandage.

“Thank you,” she says after a moment. “And… sorry.”

His eyes flick toward her briefly before returning to the road. “What are you sorry for?”

She shrugs, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “For ruining your run. For bleeding all over your shirt. For making you do… all of this.”

He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “I think I’ll survive.”

She smiles faintly, relaxing just a little before realizing something. She turns her head to look at him, studying the sharp angles of his face, the way his brows stay slightly furrowed in concentration.

“I never got your name,” she admits.

He glances at her again, this time holding her gaze for just a second longer. Then, with a slight smirk, he says, “It’s Harry.”

“Y/N,” she tells him, her voice softer now as she watches him navigate the busy street with ease.

Harry nods once, like he is committing it to memory. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. Even under these circumstances.”

A few minutes later, the car slows as he pulls up to a brick-front flat on a quieter street. The Range Rover eases to a stop, and before Y/N can even think about how she is going to get inside without making a mess, Harry is already out of the car.

She watches as he jogs around to her side, moving with effortless speed. The moment he swings open the door, his hands are on her again—gentle but firm as he helps her maneuver out of the seat.

“There are a few stairs,” he says, glancing toward the entrance. His brows furrow slightly before he looks back at her. “Is it alright if I pick you up?”

Y/N hesitates, glancing toward the short staircase leading up to the door. She appreciates the question, at least. “I think I can make it.”

He tilts his head slightly, unconvinced. “You’re already in pain. No need to make it worse.”

She exhales, feeling slightly guilty. “I feel really bad,” she admits, her fingers still gripping the fabric tied around her knee.

Harry just smirks as he bends down slightly. “Consider it the weight-lifting portion of my workout,” he says before sliding an arm beneath her legs and the other around her back.

Before she can protest, he lifts her with surprising ease, holding her securely against his chest. Her hands instinctively grip onto his shoulders as he starts toward the flat, climbing the steps effortlessly.

“You’re way too good at this,” she mutters, the heat creeping up her neck only half due to the fact that she is being carried by a complete stranger.

Harry chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “I’d be a pretty shit doctor if I wasn’t, wouldn’t I?”

Harry reaches the door and carefully sets Y/N down just long enough to unlock it. The key turns with a quiet click, and he pushes the door open before turning back to her. Without hesitation, he scoops her up again, his grip just as steady as before, and carries her inside.

The flat is warm and inviting, a mix of modern and lived-in. The scent of something clean and vaguely citrusy lingers in the air. Large windows let in the morning light, casting a soft glow over the neutral-colored furniture and shelves lined with books and small personal items.

He moves effortlessly through the space, bringing her over to the couch and gently lowering her onto the cushions. He makes sure she is comfortable before stepping away, disappearing toward a nearby closet. She listens as he rummages through supplies, the sound of cabinets opening and closing before he returns, his arms full.

He sets everything down on the coffee table—gauze, antiseptic, a needle, thread, and medical tape, along with a few other tools she does not want to look at too closely. Without a word, he heads into the kitchen. Y/N hears the faucet running and the rustle of paper towels being pulled from a roll. A moment later, he is back, hands now washed, rolling up the sleeves of his undershirt as he kneels in front of her.

“Alright,” he murmurs, his voice calm as he gently lifts her leg, propping it up to get a better look at the wound. His fingers brush against her skin, warm against the chill that still lingers from her time outside. His expression is unreadable as he assesses the gash, but she can tell he is already figuring out exactly what needs to be done.

“This is going to sting a little,” he warns, reaching for the antiseptic. “But you’re tough, right?”

Y/N exhales, bracing herself. “Guess we’re about to find out.”

Y/N gasps sharply as the antiseptic makes contact with her wound, the sharp sting shooting up her leg. Her fingers grip the edge of the couch cushion, her jaw tightening as she exhales through the pain.

“Sorry,” Harry murmurs, his voice smooth and steady as he works. “Just a little longer.”

She nods quickly, focusing on her breathing as he continues dabbing at the cut with practiced precision. Despite the pain, she cannot help but notice how careful he is, how his hands are steady and sure, never lingering more than they need to.

After a moment, the burn starts to fade, and she watches as he reaches for a small vial, squeezing a bit of clear liquid onto a cotton swab. “This’ll help numb it a little,” he tells her. “Should make the stitches easier.”

She hums in acknowledgment, watching as he gently applies the numbing agent with slow, deliberate movements. His fingertips press lightly against her skin, ensuring it spreads evenly. It tingles at first, then gradually, the pain dulls into something distant.

Harry sits back slightly, rolling his shoulders before grabbing the needle and thread. He glances up at her, a hint of amusement flickering in his expression. “Now, I won’t lie to you. This might still hurt a little,” he says, pulling the thread through the needle’s eye with an easy familiarity. “But I’ve been told I’m really good at this.”

Y/N swallows, her eyes drifting to his hands as he prepares the first stitch. His movements are fluid, effortless, as if he has done this a hundred times before—which, of course, he probably has.

Her gaze shifts up, taking him in properly for the first time. His features are sharp but not unkind, his jawline defined, his lips slightly parted in concentration. There is something about the way his brows furrow slightly as he focuses, the way his green eyes flicker between the wound and his hands with such quiet confidence.

He is attractive. Really attractive.

She feels a warmth creep up her neck that has nothing to do with the numbing agent. Of all the people who could have found her bleeding on the sidewalk, it had to be a ridiculously good-looking doctor with tattooed arms and a quiet charm.

“You alright?” Harry asks, glancing up at her just as he prepares to make the first stitch.

Y/N blinks, quickly pulling herself from her thoughts. She nods, clearing her throat. “Yeah. Just… watching.”

His lips twitch slightly, like he knows exactly what she was doing. “Well, try not to stare too hard,” he teases. “Wouldn’t want to distract me while I’ve got a needle in my hand.”

She huffs out a small laugh, rolling her eyes. “I’ll do my best.”

Y/N exhales slowly as he starts the first stitch, her fingers curling against the couch cushion. The tug of the thread through her skin is uncomfortable, but the numbing agent does its job, dulling most of the pain.

“Thank you,” she says softly, watching as he works with careful precision. “I really appreciate this.”

Harry glances up briefly before focusing back on the stitches. “Of course.”

She hesitates for a moment, then adds, “Most people wouldn’t have stopped.”

His hands don’t falter, but something shifts in his expression. He pulls the thread through smoothly, then knots it with a practiced ease before speaking.

“That’s why I wanted to be a doctor,” he says simply. “To help.”

Y/N watches him closely, the way his jaw tenses slightly like he is considering his words carefully.

“If I couldn’t do that,” he continues, his voice quieter now, “then what would be the point?”

She lets the words settle between them, the weight of them heavier than she expected. There is something unshakable in the way he says it—like this is not just a job to him, but something deeper.

For the first time since she fell, she forgets about the sting of her knee, the embarrassment of tripping, even the fact that she is sitting in a stranger’s apartment while he stitches her up. All she can focus on is him, and the quiet sincerity in his voice.

After a few minutes, Harry ties off the last stitch, his movements just as steady and precise as when he started. He snips the excess thread and leans back slightly, inspecting his work with a quick nod of approval.

“All done,” he says, reaching for a clean cloth to wipe away any lingering blood before applying a fresh bandage over the wound.

Y/N watches as he smooths down the edges of the bandage, his fingertips light against her skin. There is something oddly comforting about the way he does it, like he genuinely cares.

“The stitches will fall out on their own in about a week or two,” he tells her, tossing the used supplies into a small bin beside him. “You’ll want to keep it clean, avoid putting too much pressure on it.”

She nods, but part of her feels an unexpected disappointment at the thought. A week or two. That meant no reason to come back. No follow-up appointment. No excuse to see him again.

She clears her throat, pushing the thought away. “Thank you,” she says, meeting his eyes. “Seriously. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

He smirks slightly as he pushes himself to his feet. “Probably would’ve bled all over the sidewalk,” he teases.

She rolls her eyes, but she cannot help the small smile tugging at her lips.

“Let me give you a ride back to your place,” he offers, already grabbing his car keys from the table.

Y/N shakes her head immediately. “No, you’ve already done so much. I don’t want to take up more of your time.”

Harry tilts his head slightly, like he is debating whether to argue, but after a moment, he just sighs. “Alright,” he relents. “But here.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocks it, and hands it to her. She hesitates for a second before taking it and typing in her number. A second later, her own phone vibrates in her pocket.

“In case you have any questions,” he says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Or if something doesn’t feel right.”

She swallows, glancing at the contact now saved in her phone. She doubts she will need to ask him anything, but there is something reassuring about having his number.

“Thanks,” she says, standing carefully. He steadies her with a hand on her arm as she gets her balance.

He walks her to the door, holding it open as she steps outside. The morning chill has eased, but the air is still crisp against her skin. She pulls out her phone and quickly orders an Uber, glancing at Harry as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed casually over his chest.

“Looks like I’ll live,” she says lightly, rocking on her good leg.

He smirks. “I’d hope so.”

A car pulls up to the curb a minute later, and Y/N glances back at him one last time before opening the door.

“See you around, Doctor,” she says with a small smile.

His lips twitch slightly, like he is holding back a grin. “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

She slides into the car, and as they pull away, she catches a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror, standing in the doorway, watching her go.

The moment Y/N settles into the back seat of the Uber, she pulls out her phone and quickly unlocks it, her fingers already flying across the screen as she starts a message to Poppy.

Y/N: You are NOT going to believe what just happened to me.

A few seconds later, the typing bubbles appear, then disappear, then reappear.

Poppy: Oh god. What now?

Y/N exhales, still feeling the slight sting in her knee, but mostly just riding the adrenaline of the past hour.

Y/N: So I was on my run, right? And I totally wiped out. Like, full-on face-plant into the sidewalk.

Poppy: LMAO are you okay???

Y/N: I mean, kinda. I busted my knee open pretty bad. Like BAD bad.

Poppy: Oh my god. Did you go to the hospital??

Y/N: Nope. A HOT doctor who was also out on a run just happened to find me bleeding out on the pavement and took me back to his apartment to stitch me up.

This time, the typing bubbles take a little longer to appear.

Poppy: …You’re messing with me.

Y/N: I SWEAR ON MY LIFE.

Poppy: WHAT DO YOU MEAN A HOT DOCTOR TOOK YOU BACK TO HIS APARTMENT???

Y/N: I mean exactly that!! He was all like “You’re in luck, I happen to be a doctor” and then he carried me up to his flat, cleaned me up, stitched me up, gave me his NUMBER in case I had any issues, and then walked me out.

Poppy: HE GAVE YOU HIS NUMBER????

Y/N: …Yeah. But like. In a professional way.

Poppy: Babe. I need a full description IMMEDIATELY.

Y/N bites her lip, glancing out the window as the city blurs past. She can still smell the faint trace of his cologne in her hoodie from where he carried her, and the image of him threading the needle, his tattooed hands moving with practiced ease, flashes through her mind.

Y/N: Tall. Green eyes. Tattoos. Really nice arms. Smelled amazing. Also, annoyingly charming.

Poppy: You’re literally living in a rom-com.

Y/N: It’s not like that.

Poppy: Babe. He carried you. In his ARMS. Like a damsel in distress.

Y/N: …Okay that part was kinda nice.

Poppy: Text him.

Y/N: NO.

Poppy: You HAVE to. What if he was into you?? What if this is FATE??

Y/N sighs, staring down at Harry’s number in her recent contacts. She has no reason to text him. No medical emergencies, no lingering pain, no excuse at all.

But still… she hesitates before locking her phone and tucking it away, a small smile playing on her lips.

A few weeks pass, and life moves on as usual. Y/N’s knee heals well, the stitches falling out just as Harry said they would. She thinks about him more than she probably should, but she never texts him. There is no reason to, and she convinces herself that what happened was just a one-time, serendipitous moment. Nothing more.

Today, she and Poppy are spending the afternoon shopping, bouncing from store to store, their arms slowly filling with shopping bags. The air is crisp, just on the edge of winter, and the city is alive with holiday decorations starting to appear in shop windows.

“I need caffeine,” Poppy groans, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “Like, immediately.”

Y/N laughs. “I could go for a coffee too.”

They turn the corner and spot a small café tucked between two larger storefronts. It looks warm and inviting, with fogged-up windows and the smell of fresh espresso wafting through the open door as a customer steps out.

“This looks cute,” Poppy says, already leading the way inside.

The bell above the door jingles as they step in, the scent of roasted coffee beans and vanilla filling the air. It is cozy, with a mix of people scattered at tables—some working on laptops, others chatting over pastries. Y/N and Poppy step up to the counter, scanning the menu.

“What are you getting?” Y/N asks, fishing her wallet from her bag.

“Probably a caramel latte,” Poppy says, before turning to her with a smirk. “Are you getting tea? Or are you finally going to admit that coffee is better?”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “I drink coffee sometimes.”

“Barely.”

They place their orders, stepping to the side to wait. Y/N glances around, taking in the warm glow of the café, the low hum of conversation, the baristas moving efficiently behind the counter.

And then, just as she reaches for her cup when her name is called, she hears a familiar voice behind her.

“Y/N?”

Her breath catches slightly. She knows that voice.

Turning around, she finds herself face-to-face with none other than Harry. He stands just a few feet away, dressed casually in a dark sweater and jeans, his green eyes flickering with recognition. He looks different than the last time she saw him—not sweaty from a run, not focused on stitching up her knee, but just… normal. And somehow, just as annoyingly attractive.

“Oh,” she says, blinking in surprise. “Hey.”

Poppy, who had just grabbed her own coffee, looks between them with wide eyes, barely containing her excitement. “Oh my god,” she whispers under her breath, not-so-subtly elbowing Y/N’s side.

Y/N ignores her. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Harry smirks slightly, holding up his own coffee cup. “I could say the same thing. How’s the knee?”

Y/N glances down at her knee, instinctively brushing a hand over it. The skin is smooth now, with only the faintest trace of a scar left behind.

“Healed really nice,” she says, looking back up at him. “Barely even a scar.”

Harry grins, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “That’s what I’m known for,” he says, tilting his head slightly. “Although… a battle scar could’ve been kinda cool.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Yeah, because I’d really want to tell people I tripped over a sidewalk crack during a run. Very heroic.”

He leans over slightly, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Could’ve made up a better story,” he teases. “Shark attack. Saving a child from a burning building. Something dramatic.”

Y/N laughs again, but the warmth in her chest has little to do with the joke. She had almost forgotten how easy it was to talk to him, how effortlessly charming he was.

Before she can think of a response, Harry shifts slightly, glancing down at his cup as if debating something. Then, without looking at her, he says casually, “I was kinda hoping you’d text me.”

Y/N freezes, her grip tightening slightly around her coffee. She had thought about it—more times than she wanted to admit. But she never knew what to say, never wanted to overstep, never wanted to assume that he had wanted to see her again.

Her face heats as she looks down at her drink. “I wasn’t sure,” she admits. “Didn’t want to bother you.”

Harry exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “You wouldn’t have.”

She peeks up at him, and for the first time, his teasing smirk is gone. There is something softer in his expression now—something genuine.

Poppy, who has been silently sipping her coffee but watching the exchange like it is the best show she has ever seen, suddenly clears her throat.

“Well,” she says dramatically, clapping a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “I think I’m gonna go check out that bakery next door. Y/N, why don’t you stay here and catch up?”

Y/N shoots her a look, but Poppy just grins, winking before practically skipping toward the door.

Harry chuckles, watching her go before turning back to Y/N. “Subtle.”

“She has no shame,” Y/N mutters, shaking her head.

Harry lifts his cup toward her. “So… catching up?” he prompts. “What do you say?”

Y/N bites her lip, trying to fight back the smile threatening to take over her face. “I think I can stick around for a little bit.”

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bookwormjust · 22 hours ago

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Peeling Oranges and Guarded Hearts : Small Acts of Love in the River House

(Azriel x mate reader)

The late afternoon sunlight poured into the River House, illuminating the cozy living room where you, Elain, Feyre, and Nesta were sitting. Elain, as usual, was soft-spoken but smiling as she admitted,

“I love oranges, but I hate peeling them. Those little white bits always get stuck under my nails.”

You smiled at her, already rising from your seat. “I can peel it for you, Elain. No problem.”

Elain’s eyes lit up with gratitude. “Oh, thank you! You’re so sweet.”

With a warm laugh, you made your way to the kitchen where the males were gathered, deep in discussion. Azriel was perched on a stool, his sharp eyes scanning a piece of parchment, while Rhysand leaned casually against the counter, and Cassian gestured animatedly as he spoke. Lucien stood nearby, listening with a small smirk. As you entered, the room’s energy shifted slightly, the males pausing in their conversation to glance your way.

“I’m peeling an orange for Elain,” you announced with a smile, holding up the fruit. “Does anyone else want one while I’m at it?”

Cassian was the first to respond, grinning widely. “If you’re offering, I’ll take one! But only if you peel it for me too—I’m lazy.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Of course you are.”

Rhysand raised an elegant brow, his violet eyes twinkling. “I wouldn’t say no to an orange, either. But don’t feel obligated to spoil us all.”

Lucien, standing near the fruit bowl, chuckled. “I can peel my own, thanks.”

Azriel didn’t say anything immediately, but his gaze softened as he watched you move toward the counter to grab a knife. As you began peeling the orange with careful precision, your hands deftly removing the white pith, you glanced over your shoulder. “Az, what about you? Want one too?” His lips curved into a faint smile, his shadows curling lazily around his shoulders. “I’ll have one, but only if it’s not too much trouble.” You laughed softly. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Cassian leaned against the counter, smirking. “Look at that, Az. You’re being pampered.” “Jealous?” Azriel asked dryly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. As you finished peeling the first orange, you handed it to Cassian with a mock-serious expression. “Here’s yours, my lord.” Cassian clutched it dramatically to his chest. “Bless you. You’re too kind to us.” You shook your head, smiling as you started on the next orange. Once you’d finished peeling, you distributed them to Rhysand and Azriel, saving the last for Elain. “Thanks,” Rhysand said, his tone teasing. “I’ll make sure Feyre hears about how well you’re taking care of everyone.”

Azriel didn’t say much, but when you handed him his orange, his fingers brushed against yours briefly, his hazel eyes meeting yours with quiet gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmured. “Anytime,” you replied, your smile soft. As you headed back to the living room with Elain’s orange, you couldn’t help but hear Cassian’s voice behind you. “She’s a saint. Az, you better hold onto her.” Azriel’s response was quiet but firm. “Always.”

#acotar x reader #acotar #acotar reader imagine #azriel x female!reader #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel fanfic

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suzukiblu · 1 day ago

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Day four of February’s second weekly WIP behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You ran really fast, like I’ve never seen anybody not a Flash run that fast, like I think you might’ve actually been faster than Jai and Irey and like my dad just flies when he’s moving that fast!” Jon rambles, kicking his feet against the bottom of his seat and seeming excited again, and Kon doesn’t really have the heart to interrupt him. The kid doesn’t seem as freaked-out or scared as he did before, so if spending the drive raving about watching a giant croco-dude get his shit rocked is enough to distract him from worrying about what’s going on, Kon’s not gonna cut him off.

Just it’s–weird, kinda. The version of Jon he’s used to is a much quieter, more reserved guy, and he’s never known the dude well enough to figure out if he’s holding back or masking his reactions or if he’s actually just like that. The whole “volcano-trauma” thing would imply the former, but Clark doesn’t even seem to think Jon’s all that fucked-up from it, so, like . . . maybe he was quiet like that as a kid too?

Or maybe, like, Clark is once again totally failing to see somebody else in an “S” being, like . . . fucked-up and needing help themselves for once.

Not that Kon would know anything about that, or anything.

Like, definitely Batman’s version of you don’t get to fuck up in this line of work is a lot harsher-looking, and definitely it’s not soft by any fucking stretch of the imagination, but it sure as fuck was a day when Kon’d first had the thought that Batman expects the other Bats to live up to standards that he’s spent weeks and months and years personally teaching them, and Clark kinda just . . . expects other Supers to be up to Superman-standards, but not in a way where he really ever, like . . . taught them those standards. Like–they were just supposed to fucking know, apparently? Like that’s a thing they all just came pre-installed with no matter how they got made or where they grew up?

Also, Clark literally never taught him a fucking thing about his powers, and not really Kara either as far as he knows, and sure as shit didn’t give Kenan or even Mae and Linda back in the day all that many tips or whatever, and it’s like . . . at least Batman fucking tells people what he expects. Like, mostly, anyway. Batman has fucking dossiers of what he expects.

Maybe Jon got that, though. Got–told shit. Like, found out what the fucking standards actually were before they were immediately relevant or it was already too late or they were getting a disappointed lecture over shit they hadn’t known even mattered, much less mattered enough to be a fucking problem.

Or like, how literally any of the goddamn Kryptonian powers worked.

There’s a reason that Kon runs like a speedster; a reason that a very significant chunk of the fighting techniques and tactics that he knows are Greek or Bat in origin, if they’re not either Cadmus-uploads or tips he got from Guardian when they were working together back in the day.

Or, like, that he got from Knockout, but “yeah I think that throw came from Granny Goodness” is, like, not a conversation he’s ever wanted to have with anyone.

There’s also a reason that most of the shit he says that people assume he got from Superman he got from Ma and Pa in the, like . . . two lousy years he spent getting in their way at the farm, not Clark. Mostly he doesn’t repeat the “lessons” he heard from Clark, because he doesn’t like remembering how shitty he felt hearing them and really doesn’t wanna make anyone else feel that shitty either.

It’s whatever, anyway. The League doesn’t really cross the streams or whatever, but the Titans have learned a little from each other, and Young Justice has learned a little more from each other. That’s all. Comes from, like, actually growing up together or whatever, he’s always figured. The Leaguers didn’t team up ‘til they were all real stuck in their ways, and they built the League around those ways, pretty much. And like, whatever, they’re the greatest heroes on the planet.

But also if somebody told him he had to pick a speedster for a stealth mission, he’d definitely pick Bart or Wally over Barry Allen.

Kon is really letting his brain run off on a fucking tangent here, but in his defense, it kind of feels like self-defense right now. It's think too much about shit he can't change and never could've or it's think about a version of Jon grinning up at him like he's the coolest thing he's ever seen, like he's–like he–

The kid thinks he's his fucking dad, Kon reminds himself harshly. He doesn't know who the fuck he is. Hell, he apparently doesn't even have a version of him in his reality. So like–obviously he thinks it's cool to see his “dad” fist-fight a crocodile dude in the middle of a fucking interdimensional crisis. Like–obviously, yeah. Very much so obviously.

He's not seeing . . . anyone else when he sees him.

Anything else.

Like–the kid's just seeing his dad. Not his . . . anything else.

Well, his own Jon doesn't see him as anything else either, so that's pretty SOP either way.

#kon el #conner kent #jon kent #jonathan samuel kent #superboy #superfamily #wip: mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees

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novaursa · 21 hours ago

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The Golden Court (the father)

- Summary: You were taken from the royal court by your father when you were a child. Now you return as a woman grown from exile. A woman that ignites fires in her wake.

- Pairing: Jason Lannister/targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Note: Adult themes will progress more and more as chapters go on. This fic is pure filth and I make no apologies for it. You have been warned.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: summer night

- Tag(s): @scarletdfox

The Small Council chamber was filled with the usual murmur of early discussions, the sound of parchment being shuffled, the quiet clink of goblets being set down. The morning sun filtered through the high windows and scent of parchment, ink, and the faint trace of burning candle wax lingered in the air, familiar and unchanging.

Tyland Lannister entered with his usual effortless grace, his doublet pristine, his hair carefully combed back into place, his expression schooled into its typical air of mild amusement. He was never late, nor did he rush—Lannisters, after all, arrived exactly when they meant to.

He moved to his usual seat at the table, nodding politely to King Viserys, who sat at the head, already engaged in quiet conversation with Lord Lyonel Strong.

Otto Hightower, the Hand, sat beside the king, his sharp gaze flickering over those present with his usual calculating air. Lord Jasper Wylde, Grand Maester Mellos, and the ever-ancient Lord Beesbury were already settled into their places, their expressions ranging from disinterested to weary.

It was a routine morning—until Tyland’s gaze landed on the man seated across from him.

Daemon Targaryen.

Tyland concealed his surprise well, offering no outward reaction as he took his seat. So, he mused, the Rogue Prince has decided to grace the council with his presence.

It was an unusual sight—Daemon, here, sitting at this table, in a meeting he had long ignored. He wore black and red, his riding leathers fitted perfectly to his frame, his white-gold hair falling in deliberate waves over his shoulders.

He lounged in his chair, his fingers drumming against the polished wood, his eyes half-lidded as if the entire council session already bored him. And yet, there was something manecing in his posture—watchful.

And every so often—too often—Tyland could feel his gaze lingering.

He didn’t stare outright, didn’t make a spectacle of it, but Tyland knew when he was being studied.

And Daemon was watching him.

The conversation continued as usual, with Lord Beesbury droning on about trade deficits and the issue of grain shortages in the Riverlands, his voice already quivering with age. Otto listened with polite patience, Lyonel Strong interjected with his ever-practical wisdom, and Viserys rubbed his temple, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else.

Tyland listened, occasionally offering his input when necessary, but he could feel Daemon’s gaze like a blade at his throat—assessing, measuring.

It wasn’t accusatory. It wasn’t outright hostile.

But it was something.

And Tyland did not like uncertainty.

Finally, he glanced up, meeting those dark violet eyes head-on.

Daemon smirked.

The corner of his mouth curled, subtle, knowing.

Tyland arched a brow but offered no other reaction, returning his attention to the discussion at hand.

“…And the concerns regarding taxation on the shipping routes,” Lyonel Strong was saying, gesturing toward a missive before him.

Otto nodded. “The crown cannot afford to alienate the merchants. If we raise tariffs too steeply, we risk—”

Daemon exhaled loudly, tilting his head back in exaggerated boredom. “Gods, must we talk of coin this early in the morning?”

Viserys sighed, already exasperated. “Daemon, if you intend to sit on this council, you will listen.”

Daemon smirked. “Oh, I’m listening, brother. I simply find it dreadfully dull.” His gaze flickered toward Tyland again, lingering before he added, “Though some topics are more interesting than others.”

Tyland remained composed, his lips barely twitching.

Viserys let out another sigh, rubbing his temple. “Then, by all means, Daemon, enlighten us. What would you prefer we discuss?”

Daemon smirked, leaning forward just slightly. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

And then—again—his gaze flickered toward Tyland, just for a fraction too long.

Tyland, for all his practiced ease, felt something cold curl in his stomach.

Because Daemon wasn’t guessing.

No—Daemon knew.

And that, more than anything else, was cause for concern.

The thud of the chamber doors closing behind the last departing council member echoed through the room, signaling the end of yet another tedious meeting. The scent of parchment and candle wax lingered in the air, mingling with the remnants of warmed wine and dust stirred by shifting feet.

The others had all gone—Viserys had been the first to leave, rubbing his temples, muttering something about needing fresh air. Otto had departed with his usual measured pace along Jasper, followed by Lord Beesbury, who had been half-asleep by the end. Grand Maester Mellos had shuffled out, and even Lyonel Strong had taken his leave.

But Daemon remained seated.

And, despite every logical instinct telling him to rise and leave as well, so did Tyland.

The air in the chamber changed, subtly but unmistakably. There was a command in the way Daemon leaned back in his chair, his legs stretched out, his fingers idly tapping against the wood. His dark violet gaze was heavy-lidded, contemplative—but focused. Unwavering.

Tyland met it evenly, his own expression carefully schooled into one of mild curiosity, giving nothing away.

A long silence passed between them before Daemon finally broke it.

Blunt. Unceremonious. Unavoidable.

“Which one of you did it first?”

Tyland blinked once, slowly, giving himself time to process the question that had no other possible meaning.

Daemon smirked, but there was little humor in it. “You, or Jason?” His tone was even, almost casual. “Who was foolish enough to indulge her first?”

Tyland inhaled, measured and slow, keeping his expression impassive. “I was respectful,” he answered, his voice calm, even. “And considerate. The best way I knew how.”

Daemon scoffed, his smirk stretching wider, though it never quite reached his eyes. He tilted his head, as though amused, though his amusement was a sharp, cutting thing. “So, you then.”

It wasn’t a question.

Tyland could not read anything in the prince’s face—not anger, not disapproval, not even a trace of surprise. It was unsettling, to be on the receiving end of Daemon Targaryen’s attention and be entirely uncertain of his intent.

A slow exhale, controlled. Tyland chose his words carefully. “Does that surprise you, my prince?”

Daemon huffed softly through his nose, tilting his head. “Not particularly.” He leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the table, tapping a single finger against the polished wood. “I’m more surprised Jason let you.”

Tyland blinked again, a flicker of genuine intrigue curling in his chest. “You think he allowed it?”

Daemon arched a brow, studying him. “You are the reasonable one,” he mused. “The one who thinks before acting. Jason, on the other hand, is ruled by impulse.” A pause. A tilt of his head. “And Jason wanted her.”

Tyland exhaled, lifting a shoulder in a slight shrug. “He still does.”

Daemon chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “No, Lannister,” he murmured. “Jason does not merely want her. He is obsessed with her.”

Tyland considered that, mulling over Daemon’s words. It wasn’t wrong. He had seen it himself—the reckless glint in Jason’s eyes whenever the princess so much as glanced his way, the way he prowled around her like a lion just waiting for an excuse to devour.

But Tyland knew something else—something Daemon had yet to say aloud.

“She wants him too.”

Daemon exhaled through his nose, tilting his head slightly. “That, too, is no surprise.”

Tyland hesitated for just a breath. He still couldn’t gauge what Daemon was truly thinking. There was no outburst, no dramatics—only silence and that lingering smirk that held no warmth.

“You disapprove?” he finally asked.

Daemon laughed. Low, almost dark, before shaking his head. “I don’t approve or disapprove.” He exhaled, his smirk twisting slightly. “I know my daughter. I know her appetites.” A pause. Then, pointedly: “Do you?”

Tyland’s fingers curled slightly against the polished wood of the table.

Daemon leaned forward just slightly, his dark violet eyes gleaming. “You and Jason think you’re the hunters,” he murmured, his voice laced with something dangerous. “But tell me, Lannister—when have you ever truly known a dragon to be tamed?”

Tyland remained silent.

Because there was no right answer to that question.

The tension between them thickened like smoke, curling between measured words and silent assessments. Daemon remained seated, fingers idly tapping against the polished table, his expression unreadable but for the faint gleam of intrigue in his eyes.

Tyland, for all his practiced poise, knew that he was navigating treacherous ground. Daemon was not a man easily swayed—he was unpredictable, untamed, as prone to amusement as he was to violence.

And yet, he asked, “Do you and Jason even know what you’re doing?”

Tyland inhaled slowly, carefully. “We know exactly what we’re doing.”

Daemon smirked, unconvinced. “Do you?” He tilted his head slightly. “Because from where I sit, it looks as if you and your brother have been led around like hounds on a leash. She is playing you, Lannister.”

Tyland exhaled, unbothered. “Perhaps. But she plays the game beautifully.”

Daemon chuckled. “That she does.” He leaned forward slightly, gaze sharpening. “And what do you intend to do about it?”

Tyland met his stare evenly. “We’ve proposed to her.”

Daemon blinked, and for a brief moment, his expression faltered—not with anger, but with sheer, unrestrained amusement.

Jason would have reveled in it, would have seen it as encouragement. But Tyland knew better.

Daemon leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest, his smirk widening. “You both proposed? Together?”

Tyland inclined his head. “We did.”

Daemon let out a full, genuine laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “And how, exactly, do you intend to make that work? Last I checked, the Faith doesn’t take kindly to such arrangements.”

Tyland was unfazed. “Then it will be done under the watchful eyes of the old Valyrian gods.”

Daemon stilled, his smirk fading just slightly. Not in displeasure, but in something else—something thoughtful.

Tyland pressed forward. “A Valyrian wedding. If it is tradition you require, we can honor it.”

Daemon exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head in something between exasperation and amusement. “A Valyrian wedding,” he mused, rolling the words on his tongue. “And tell me, Lannister—which of your great golden kin ever carried a drop of Valyrian blood?”

Tyland tilted his head. “None.”

Daemon chuckled. “That much is obvious.” He smirked again, tapping a finger against the wood. “Not that it matters, of course. You do realize the Faith would rage against this, yes? Even proposing such a thing would be enough to send the High Septon into a frenzy.”

Tyland inclined his head, his tone never wavering. “That is why it would be done away from their gods, under the traditions of hers.”

Daemon was silent for a moment, his gaze lingering on Tyland as if weighing every inch of him. Then, slowly, his smirk widened, a gleam of intrigue lighting his eyes.

He was enjoying this.

“And you,” Daemon said, tilting his head, “and Jason—you would risk revolt from the Faith, the scorn of the realm, just to bind yourselves to her?”

Tyland did not hesitate. “Yes.”

Daemon exhaled, watching him carefully. “And why is that, Lannister? Why not take her as a lover and be done with it? What is it you truly want?”

Tyland did not break his gaze. “She would be well taken care of.”

Daemon hummed, unconvinced.

Tyland continued, his voice unwavering. “House Lannister is prepared to pour gold into the Crown—to ensure her place, to ensure the King’s coffers remain full, to—”

Daemon’s hand shot up, stopping him mid-sentence.

Tyland silenced himself immediately, watching as the prince tilted his head slightly, his gaze narrowing.

“I don’t give a fuck about your gold,” Daemon murmured, his voice low but edged with something dangerous. “Do you think I am some desperate fool, waiting to be bribed?”

Tyland inhaled, careful now. “That is not what I meant.”

Daemon smirked, though his amusement was sharp-edged. “Then what did you mean?”

Tyland exhaled slowly. “That she would want for nothing.”

Daemon considered him for a long moment, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. His gaze flickered—once, just briefly—with something that Tyland could not quite place.

Then, after a pause, he let out a slow, amused breath, shaking his head.

“You really are serious about this.”

Tyland met his gaze without wavering. “We are.”

Daemon chuckled again, low and dark, as if this entire conversation was entertainment to him. “Gods,” he muttered, shaking his head. “You Lannisters never fail to surprise me.”

Tyland did not respond, merely watching as Daemon leaned forward again, resting his arms on the table.

“Tell me, Lannister,” he mused, his smirk still lingering. “Does she know all about this grand proposal of yours?”

Tyland exhaled, offering a small, knowing smirk of his own.

“She will.”

The Red Keep was alive with murmurs of courtly conversations, the soft hum of noble laughter mingling with the distant sounds of music drifting from the upper halls. The late afternoon sun cast golden hues against the stone corridors, the air warm with the lingering scent of spiced wine and blooming gardenias from the courtyard below.

Tyland Lannister stood at the edge of the great hall, his green eyes focused as they flickered over the gathered nobility. He spotted you easily.

You were surrounded by lords—again.

A cluster of them, each vying for your attention, each speaking just a fraction louder than the others, all hoping you would grace them with your gaze, your words, a fleeting moment of your favor.

You were composed, poised, amused—as you always were when playing your little games.

Tyland let out a slow exhale, then caught your eye from across the room. He made no grand gesture, no words—just a subtle motion of his fingers.

A command.

Follow me.

He did not wait to see if you obeyed. He already knew you would.

He stood in the secluded passage, leaning against the cool stone wall, arms crossed as he listened to the distant chatter from the banquet halls. He didn’t have to wait long before the sound of soft footsteps filled the quiet.

You rounded the corner, your violet eyes glinting as you stepped into the dim light.

“You were missed this morning,” you murmured, stopping just before him, tilting your head slightly.

Tyland smirked, lifting a brow. “I’m sure Jason was devastated.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to him, your fingers grazing his jaw before sliding into his hair, threading through the golden strands with effortless familiarity. The touch was intimate, affectionate—claiming.

He let out a slow breath, his hands settling on your waist, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your gown.

Your lips met.

It was slow at first—languid, teasing, the warmth of your mouths mingling as his hands roamed over your curves, as you pressed yourself closer against him.

But then you sighed against his lips, and something in him snapped.

His grip tightened, his kiss turning deeper, more demanding. He pushed you back against the stone wall, his fingers slipping beneath the silk of your gown, finding the bare skin of your thigh.

“I spoke with your father today,” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against your lips.

You hummed in curiosity, your fingers sliding down the buttons of his doublet, already undoing them. “And how did that go?”

Tyland exhaled, amused. “Well, he didn’t kill me.”

You laughed again, softer this time. “That’s promising.”

Tyland shrugged off the top half of his attire, his linen undershirt slightly undone from your wandering hands. He smirked, leaning against the stone bench nearby and pulling you toward him.

You followed with ease, dropping to your knees beside him, your fingers already working at the ties of his breeches, your movements slow, deliberate.

Tyland let out a soft chuckle, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “He knows.”

You glanced up at him, brow lifting slightly. “Knows what?”

His smirk widened. “About our proposal.”

Your hands stilled briefly, but your expression remained unreadable.

Tyland reached out, brushing his fingers along your jaw, tilting your chin slightly. “And he already knew about us.”

You exhaled slowly, your hands resuming their exploration, your mouth replacing them a moment later.

Tyland groaned softly, his fingers threading into your silver hair, his grip tightening slightly as you took him into your mouth, your pace slow, teasing.

His breath hitched, his free hand bracing against the stone as he exhaled sharply. “You’re terrible at acting surprised. Unless… you told him.”

You smirked against him, humming softly in amusement.

Tyland chuckled, shaking his head. “You knew he would eventually find out, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer with words—just a slow, deliberate movement that had him cursing under his breath.

His grip in your hair tightened. “Enough teasing, princess.”

He pulled you up effortlessly, settling you into his lap, his hands already guiding your thighs apart as he leaned back against the bench, his green eyes dark with intent.

You straddled him, your body pressed against his, the warmth of your bare skin against his sending a fresh wave of hunger through him.

His hands roamed lower, fingers pressing into your hips, guiding you as you positioned yourself over him, teasing him just enough before finally taking him in.

Tyland groaned, his hands gripping you tighter, his lips finding your throat as you began to move.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly over your pulse. “Every damn time.”

You smirked, rolling your hips slowly, making him curse softly under his breath.

“Is that why you proposed?” you mused, your voice warm with amusement. “Because you enjoy fucking me?”

Tyland chuckled lowly, his hands sliding up your back. “That’s certainly one reason.”

You arched a brow. “And the others?”

Tyland smirked, his hands sliding down to your thighs, holding you steady as he thrust up into you, drawing a soft gasp from your lips.

His mouth found your ear, his breath hot as he murmured, “Because I refuse to share you forever.”

Your breath hitched, your nails digging into his shoulders.

Tyland groaned, his pace turning rougher, his fingers digging into your flesh as he kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans.

You broke away briefly, tilting your head slightly, your violet eyes gleaming. “And Jason?”

Tyland let out a low chuckle, his hands tightening on your waist. “Jason wants the same thing.”

You hummed, rolling your hips again, making him curse softly.

Tyland exhaled, his voice thick with hunger. “You will be ours, princess. It’s only a matter of when.”

And as the pleasure built between you, as your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, you knew—

Tyland Lannister did not make empty promises.

The rhythm between you both became frantic, desperate—a steady, pounding need that built higher with each thrust. Tyland’s grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he drove himself deeper, chasing the inevitable high that was teetering on the edge of release.

You moaned against his lips, your body tightening around him, pleasure curling deep in your core. His name spilled from your lips, breathless, needful, and it sent a dark satisfaction through him.

“That's it,” he groaned, his voice rough, guttural. “Take me—take all of me, princess.”

Your nails raked down his back, his linen shirt pushed up over his shoulders, baring the hard ridges of muscle beneath. His breath was hot against your ear, his lips skimming the curve of your throat, tasting the sweat that had begun to gather there.

His movements became erratic, his pace losing its earlier precision as his release neared. You felt it in the way his body tensed, in the way his fingers clutched at your hips as though he wanted to pull you closer, deeper, to keep you there forever.

With one final thrust, he groaned your name against your throat, his entire body stiffening beneath you as he finally let go. His release spilled inside you, his breath ragged, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he held you there, his grip unrelenting, his body shuddering in the aftermath.

For a moment, the only sound in the chamber was the heavy, mingled breath of two bodies caught in the throes of pleasure.

Your head rested against his shoulder, your fingers tracing mindless patterns across his bare chest. His heartbeat was still erratic beneath your palm, a steady reminder of just how much he had lost himself in you.

Tyland exhaled, letting out a quiet chuckle, tilting his head back against the stone behind him. “Gods,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair. “I almost feel bad for Jason.”

You hummed lazily against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of his collarbone. “Oh?”

Tyland smirked, his fingers gliding down your back, still too sated to move just yet. “He missed this.”

You chuckled, lifting your head just slightly, your violet eyes gleaming with amusement. “He’ll survive.”

Tyland sighed, shaking his head. “Speaking of my dear brother—where is he, anyway?” He let his fingers wander, his touch still slow, lingering, though now more absentminded than sinful. “Is he actually doing something productive for once, or is he lounging in his chambers, waiting for you?”

You smirked, rolling your hips just slightly, enough to make him hiss softly, his hands tightening around you again.

“Does it matter?” you murmured, your lips brushing against his in a teasing kiss.

Tyland groaned, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of us both, princess.”

You grinned, your fingers twining in his golden hair. “Perhaps.”

And yet—neither of you made any move to stop.

Tyland left the secluded passageway first, smoothing the wrinkles from his doublet, his usual meticulous appearance restored as though nothing had transpired in the last hour. You followed soon after, pressing a brief, lingering kiss against his lips before murmuring something about preparing for your ride to the Dragonpit.

He had merely smirked, watching as you sauntered away, your silver hair catching in the sunlight, your departure every bit as deliberate as your arrival.

And then—he turned in the opposite direction, making his way toward his twin.

Jason’s chambers were exactly as Tyland had expected them to be.

The scent of warmed spiced wine lingered in the air, mingling with the fresh aroma of the bathwater that still clung to the chamber’s damp heat. The windows were thrown open just enough to let in the late afternoon breeze, rustling the heavy drapes.

And there, sprawled lazily on the couch beside the great hearth, was Jason.

His golden hair was still damp from his bath, strands curling slightly at his temples. He wore nothing but a loose linen shirt, the laces at the collar untied, exposing the still-drying droplets of water clinging to his collarbones. His breeches were barely fastened, his feet propped up against the low wooden table, a goblet of wine resting in his hand.

Jason turned at the sound of the door opening, his expression expectant—only for a flicker of disappointment to flash across his features when he saw Tyland.

Tyland smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “You look thrilled to see me.”

Jason exhaled sharply, taking a slow sip of his wine before setting the goblet down with an audible clink. “And here I thought my afternoon was about to become interesting.”

Tyland huffed a quiet laugh, stepping inside, letting the door close behind him. “Expecting someone else, were you?”

Jason shot him a dry look. “Do you even have to ask?”

Tyland chuckled, strolling over to the nearby sideboard to pour himself a drink. “I take it she hasn’t graced you with her presence today?”

Jason groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “Not since this morning.” He stretched, letting out a lazy sigh. “And now I’m left here to suffer, waiting for our darling princess to tire of whatever diversion has stolen her attention.”

Tyland smirked behind his goblet. “She’s preparing for a ride.”

Jason cracked one eye open. “Through the city?”

Tyland took a slow sip. “To the Dragonpit.”

Jason groaned again, rubbing a hand down his face. “That beast of hers.”

Tyland chuckled. “Haelle,” he corrected.

Jason huffed. “That damned dragon must hate me to demand so much of her attention.”

Tyland smirked. “It has good instincts, then.”

Jason flicked a piece of bread from the table at him. “Fuck off.”

Tyland dodged it effortlessly, setting his goblet down before sighing. “I spoke with Daemon today.”

Jason blinked once, his expression shifting—his usual laziness tempered now with something more alert.

He sat up slightly, stretching out his legs. “And?”

Tyland exhaled, swirling the remaining wine in his goblet. “He knows.”

Jason scoffed. “Of course he does.”

Tyland glanced at him. “I told him about the proposal.”

Jason stilled for just a moment before exhaling through his nose. “And he didn’t gut you where you stood?”

Tyland smirked. “Surprisingly, no.” He leaned against the table, watching his twin. “He was amused, mostly. But not surprised.”

Jason huffed, rubbing his jaw. “He must’ve expected it.”

Tyland nodded. “He’s more surprised you let me have her first.”

Jason let out a sharp laugh. “Did you correct him?”

Tyland smirked, shaking his head. “I saw no reason to correct the truth.”

Jason rolled his eyes, reclining against the couch once more. “Well, now he knows our intentions.” He tapped his fingers against his knee, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think he’ll do?”

Tyland exhaled, lifting a brow. “He didn’t kill me, so I assume he hasn’t decided yet.”

Jason smirked. “Or he likes the idea and is simply letting us stew in our own uncertainty.”

Tyland chuckled, shaking his head. “That would be the most Daemon thing to do.”

Jason sighed, reaching for his wine again. “So, we wait.”

Tyland nodded. “We wait.”

Jason huffed. “Fucking wonderful.”

Tyland merely smirked, sipping his wine once more.

The private solar was quiet save for the occasional crackling of the hearth and the distant sounds of the Red Keep bustling beyond its walls. The scent of parchment and aged wine lingered in the air, mingling with the faint traces of burning candle wax. King Viserys sat slumped in his chair, one hand resting against his temple, fingers idly rubbing at the tension forming there.

Before him, Otto Hightower stood with his usual composed demeanor, though his eyes betrayed the weight of the discussion at hand.

“Lord Jason Lannister,” Otto began, his voice measured, his words chosen carefully, “does not seem inclined to return to the Westerlands.”

Viserys let out a long sigh, already knowing where this conversation was headed. He shifted in his chair, glancing up at Otto with weary eyes. “Yes, Otto. I am aware.”

Otto pressed his lips into a thin line, stepping forward slightly. “And yet, you do nothing.”

Viserys scoffed, shaking his head as he reached for his goblet. “What would you have me do? Demand that he leave?” He took a slow sip before setting the goblet down with a dull thud. “Jason has always been an arrogant man. If I command him to return to Casterly Rock, he will simply find a way to delay it further—under the pretense of continued service to the Crown, no doubt.”

Otto exhaled sharply. “And what service, exactly, does he provide?”

Viserys huffed, shaking his head. “Aside from drinking my wine and flirting with every woman at court? Very little.”

Otto remained silent for a beat, before his expression hardened slightly. “You know as well as I do that the rumors surrounding him and your niece do nothing to help this matter.”

Viserys sighed, rubbing his temples again. “Yes, Otto. I know.” His voice was quieter now, more tired. “The court whispers of it constantly. And yet…” He hesitated before exhaling, shaking his head. “Daemon does not seem to take it seriously.”

Otto’s brow furrowed. “He is unbothered?”

Viserys let out a humorless chuckle. “Daemon is always unbothered—until he decides he is not.” He leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. “I thought my brother would be more alarmed by the idea of his daughter entangled with a Lannister.”

Otto tilted his head, his gaze never leaving the king. “Perhaps he underestimates the risk.”

Viserys scoffed. “Or perhaps he simply enjoys watching the chaos unfold.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “The Gods know he has always relished in disorder.”

Otto’s lips pressed together, his expression unreadable. “And you, Your Grace?”

Viserys lifted a brow. “What of me?”

Otto hesitated for a moment before speaking. “Do you take the matter seriously?”

Viserys was silent for a beat before sighing, shaking his head. “Daemon’s daughter is not some foolish girl. She is her father’s child in every sense.” He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting toward the flickering fire in the hearth. “If I try to force her hand in anything, she will rebel.”

Otto’s expression darkened slightly. “And yet, if she is left to her own devices, she may bind herself to House Lannister in a way that cannot be undone.”

Viserys exhaled, rubbing his temple again. “And what would you have me do, Otto? Command Daemon to control his daughter?”

Otto’s silence was telling.

Viserys let out another dry chuckle. “Yes, I thought not.”

Otto’s jaw tightened. “This is not a matter to be taken lightly, Your Grace. If the rumors prove true, if she does align herself with Jason Lannister in any way—”

Viserys cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I know what it would mean, Otto.” His tone was sharp now, his patience fraying. “And I will speak with Daemon.”

Otto studied him for a long moment before inclining his head slightly. “See that you do.”

And with that, the matter was left hanging between them—unresolved, uncertain, and filled with the weight of what was yet to come.

The scent of ale, smoke, and the distinct grime of Flea Bottom clung to Daemon as he strode through the dimly lit corridor of the Red Keep. He had only just returned from his usual excursions, his boots tracking dust onto the polished stone floors, his black cloak still carrying the scent of the filth-ridden streets he had prowled.

Viserys was already waiting for him.

His older brother stood near the hearth of Daemon’s chamber, arms crossed, his expression severe. The firelight cast shadows over his aging features, deepening the lines of his face, making the weariness in his eyes all the more visible.

Daemon barely acknowledged him at first, moving lazily toward the sideboard to pour himself a cup of wine, his demeanor utterly unbothered.

“I see you’ve made yourself comfortable,” he mused, swirling the deep red liquid in his cup before taking a slow sip. “Is this an intervention, brother? Are you here to convince me to be a better man?”

Viserys inhaled through his nose, clearly already at the edge of his patience. “By the Gods, Daemon, must you always embarrass yourself?”

Daemon smirked, unbothered, taking another sip of his wine. “Define embarrassment.”

Viserys’ fingers curled into a fist before he exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You know exactly what I mean. You disappear for hours, reeking of ale and filth, and return as if nothing has happened.” He gestured vaguely to Daemon’s disheveled state. “The whole court talks about it.”

Daemon chuckled. “Then let them talk.”

Viserys growled under his breath, stepping closer, his voice lowering. “It is not just you they whisper about.”

Daemon arched a brow, but his smirk remained. “Oh? And what else have our dear courtiers been spreading?”

Viserys shifted. “Jason Lannister.”

Daemon let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Ah, yes. That golden-haired fool.” He took another sip of his wine. “What of him?”

Viserys’ lips pressed into a thin line, his anger barely contained. “He does not leave. And the rumors surrounding him and your daughter are growing.”

Daemon hummed in amusement. “Are they?”

Viserys scowled, stepping closer. “You know they are! And yet, you sit here and act as though you do not care.” His tone sharpened, cutting. “She is your daughter, Daemon. Are you truly so blind?”

Daemon’s smirk did not falter. If anything, it widened.

He took another slow sip of his wine before tilting his head slightly. “Then you don’t know about the other twin.”

Viserys froze.

For a moment, he looked as if he had misheard. His breath hitched just slightly, his expression slackening—not with anger, but with sheer stunned disbelief.

Daemon simply watched, amused, as realization settled in.

Viserys opened his mouth, but no words came. His face paled slightly, his fingers twitching at his sides as though they ached for something to grip, steadying himself.

Daemon merely leaned back against the sideboard, lifting his goblet to his lips, taking his time with his next sip.

Viserys finally swallowed, his throat bobbing, his voice hoarse when he finally managed to speak.

“The other twin?”

Daemon’s smirk deepened.

“Oh, yes, brother,” he mused, swirling his wine idly. “You’ve been so concerned about Jason, you neglected to consider Tyland.”

Viserys looked as if his legs might give out.

His lips parted, his breathing uneven, his gaze flickering—panicked, frantic, as if searching for any sign that this was a jest.

Daemon chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Didn’t you ever wonder why Jason stayed? Or why Tyland—the ever-dutiful, ever-practical Tyland—seemed just as invested?” He tilted his head. “Come now, Viserys. You’re not that blind.”

Viserys exhaled, his shoulders rising and falling as he struggled to compose himself. His mind was racing, grasping for an answer, for something rational—but the pieces were already falling into place, and he could not deny them.

Daemon watched, enjoying every second of his brother’s turmoil.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Viserys found his voice again.

“You cannot be serious.”

Daemon smirked. “Oh, but I am.”

Viserys gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, his chest rising and falling as he tried—failed—to compose himself. His face was flushed, whether from anger or sheer disbelief, he did not know.

Daemon merely stood there, calm as ever, watching his brother unravel before him with something that bordered on amusement.

Viserys looked at his brother, his teeth clenched. “How can you stand there so calmly while your daughter’s reputation is dragged through the dirt?” His voice was raw with exasperation, with something closer to desperation. “Do you not understand what they will say about her?”

Daemon scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh, I know precisely what they say.” He took another leisurely sip of his wine, unbothered. “And let them talk.”

Viserys let out a sound that was something between a groan and a growl, dragging a hand down his face. “Gods, Daemon, do you ever think before you act?”

Daemon merely smirked.

Viserys scowled, his voice lowering, shaking with frustration. “I have barely silenced the rumors about Rhaenyra.” He shook his head, eyes burning with barely contained rage. “And now this?”

Daemon set his goblet down on the table with a dull clink. He tilted his head, his gaze darkening just slightly.

“You speak of her as if she were some fragile little thing to be ruined,” he mused, his voice lower now, measured. “But you forget, Viserys—she was not raised in your precious court.”

Viserys blinked, his breath still unsteady.

Daemon took a slow step closer, his dark violet eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “She grew up with me,” he murmured. “Away from this.” His hand gestured vaguely around the chamber, his expression twisting slightly. “Away from your pristine halls, away from the watchful, judgmental eyes of your septas and lords.”

Viserys’ brows furrowed, his mouth parting as if to speak, but Daemon cut him off.

“We lived in the Free Cities,” he continued, his voice carrying a lazy, almost nostalgic lilt. “Braavos. Volantis. Lys.” His smirk widened slightly, though his eyes remained sharp. “We traveled as we pleased. No expectations. No chains.” He leaned back slightly. “She saw things the little caged birds of Westeros could only dream of.”

Viserys’ stomach twisted.

Daemon’s gaze flickered, watching his brother’s face with something that might have been satisfaction. “Lys,” he repeated, dragging out the name, savoring the way Viserys’ expression shifted. “A city of pleasures.” He exhaled a slow, deliberate breath. “We visited many places there.”

Viserys froze.

His pulse pounded in his ears. “You—” He could barely form the words, his mind reeling.

Daemon’s smirk deepened, his voice dipping just slightly. “Do you truly believe she is some skittish maiden of your court?” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “She was raised with me, by me. She has seen things, Viserys. Done things.” His lips curled. “She is not your perfect little princess.”

Viserys felt as if the air had been punched from his lungs.

His vision blurred at the edges, his grip on the table tightening as he forced himself to breathe.

Daemon merely watched him, tilting his head. “You look as if you might collapse, brother.”

Viserys wanted to scream.

He wanted to demand the truth, to force Daemon to tell him that this was all some cruel jest. But in the depths of his brother’s dark violet eyes, he saw no lie.

Only amusement.

Only certainty.

Viserys inhaled, but the breath was unsteady. His voice came out hoarse, almost pleading.

“She was young, Daemon.”

Daemon shoke his head. “She was free.”

Viserys clenched his jaw, his hands trembling against the table.

Daemon simply smirked, his voice a lazy drawl.

“And that, brother, is what truly horrifies you.”

For a long, heavy moment, Viserys simply stared at his brother. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, his knuckles white from the force with which he clutched the edge of the table. The words had lodged in his throat, a thousand different things he wanted to say—to scream—but when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet.

Mournful.

“How could you do that?”

Daemon’s smirk faltered.

Viserys’ eyes burned with something raw, something grieving. “To your own child? To Daena’s child?”

Daemon stilled.

The shift was small, almost imperceptible, but Viserys felt it. The once clear amusement in his brother’s gaze dulled, his posture stiffening just slightly, his fingers twitching at his side.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then—Daemon laughed.

It was a low, forced thing, humorless. His lips curled, but the smirk was wrong now, edged with something more biting. “Ah, there it is,” he murmured, shaking his head. “The real reason for all this righteous fury.” His voice dipped. “You do not mourn her reputation, Viserys. You mourn her.”

Viserys opened his mouth, but Daemon didn’t let him speak.

“You think I do not know?” he continued, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “That I do not remember?” His fingers flexed slightly, curling into loose fists before relaxing again. His eyes—those deep, unyielding dark violet eyes—locked onto Viserys’. “Everything she was—everything she should have had.” His jaw clenched, just for a fraction of a second. “And everything she lost.”

Viserys swallowed thickly, the weight of Daemon’s words settling like lead in his chest.

“She was our sister, Daemon,” he murmured, voice breaking slightly.

Daemon turned away from him abruptly. He paced toward the window, placing a hand on the stone ledge, his fingers gripping too tightly. He was still for a long moment, staring out at the Red Keep, at the vast city beyond.

When he spoke again, his voice was different.

Lower.

Tight.

“You think I do not remember the day she died?”

Viserys winced.

Daemon’s grip on the ledge tightened, his knuckles pale. “You think I do not hear her voice every gods-damned time I look at my daughter?” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “She is not Daena.”

Viserys’ throat tightened. “I know that.”

Daemon turned then, slowly, his gaze unreadable.

For once, there was no smugness in his expression. No mockery. No detached amusement.

Only something else.

Something older.

Something haunted.

Viserys forced himself to hold his gaze, to push past the lump forming in his throat. “She should have had a mother, Daemon,” he said, his voice breaking at the edges. “Not just you.”

Daemon exhaled through his nose, his expression hardening. “She had me.”

Viserys shook his head. “It was not enough.”

Daemon’s jaw clenched. “She is alive.”

Viserys’ breath hitched, his nails pressing into his palms. “But is she whole?”

The room went silent.

Daemon’s violet gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then—

He turned away.

Without a word, he strode past Viserys, his boots heavy against the stone floor. His movements were abrupt, his posture rigid.

Viserys watched him go, something deep in his chest aching.

Daemon did not slam the door behind him.

But the silence he left in his wake was louder than any storm.

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zuzu-tries-to-write · 3 days ago

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Falling for the Act (Part 5)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki X reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fake Dating, Slow Burn, Romance————————————————————————

Part 5: Losing Control

Bakugo had been acting weird.

Ever since the kiss in the cafeteria, something about him had changed.

At first, you thought he was just embarrassed about the whole thing. After all, it wasn’t planned—he’d kissed you out of nowhere, right in front of everyone. But instead of brushing it off like he usually would, he started acting… different.

For one, he was more possessive.

Before, he’d only touched you when necessary—throwing an arm around you when people were watching, holding your hand to keep up the act. But now? He was touching you all the time. A hand on your lower back when walking through crowds, fingers brushing against yours absentmindedly, his knee knocking into yours under the table.

Little things. Subtle things.

But you noticed.

And the worst part? You didn’t hate it.

You liked it.

And that terrified you.

You were heading back to the dorms when it happened.

It was late—most of your classmates were already inside, but you had stayed out a little longer, chatting with some students from Class 1-B. It was harmless, really, just friendly conversation.

But Bakugo was not happy.

He was waiting for you outside the dorms, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking pissed. His crimson eyes locked onto you the second you walked up, sharp and unreadable.

You frowned. “Uh… what’s your problem?”

“You were gone for hours,” he snapped.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? So?”

His jaw clenched. “You were with them.”

You blinked, confused—until you realized what he meant. The Class 1-B guys. The ones you had been laughing with earlier.

Realization hit you like a truck.

“…Wait a minute,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “Are you jealous again?”

Bakugo scowled, pushing off the wall. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh my god.” You stared at him, a slow smirk creeping onto your face. “You are.”

“Shut up.”

“You totally are.”

“I said shut up,” he growled, stepping closer.

But you weren’t intimidated. Not this time.

Because this was it. The final crack in his walls.

You tilted your head, looking him right in the eye. “You keep getting pissed every time I talk to another guy,” you mused. “But why? This is just an act, right? You shouldn’t care who I talk to.”

Bakugo didn’t say anything.

Instead, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you forward so fast that you barely had time to react before your back hit the wall.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He was so close. His face was inches from yours, his hands braced on either side of your head. His body was practically caging you in, heat radiating off of him in waves.

His red eyes burned into yours, something dark and desperate swirling in them.

“…Shut up,” he muttered.

Your pulse skyrocketed.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was suffocating, thick and heavy and dangerous.

And then, before you could think—before he could think—his lips crashed onto yours.

This wasn’t like the cafeteria kiss.

That had been rushed, impulsive, driven by anger.

But this?

This was raw.

His hands found your waist, gripping tightly as his lips moved against yours—hungry, desperate, like he had been holding this in for way too long. His body pressed against yours, completely overwhelming you with his heat, his scent, him.

You barely had time to gasp before he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your lower lip before his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You melted.

Your fingers found their way into his hair, tugging slightly—and he groaned, low and deep, pressing you even harder against the wall.

You were dizzy. Breathless.

And completely, completely screwed.

Because this?

This was not fake anymore.

To be continued…..

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bakugo katuski #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #mha

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yamamasjumpercables · 1 day ago

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Cowboys Don’t Cry

(Chapter Three)

Pairing: Cowboy!Bangchan x Fem!Reader

A/n: i kept fighting on if I wanted this series to be first or second person (first was better)

Summary: Y/n and Bangchan were childhood friends until he moved away to the big city, leaving Y/n heartbroken. Years later Chan comes back to town for good, now he has to fix what he broke all those years ago.

AU: Cowboy/Country Boy

Trope(s): Childhood Friends - to - Lovers, Grumpy x Sunshine, Slow Burn

Genre: Rom-com, Drama and Angst

Warning(s): 18+ rating (cussing)

The sun has fallen, covering this small town with darkness. Only the bar graced the town with light. Laughter was the only thing that was heard from this lively place. Leeknow had texted Chan earlier to meet him and the guys at the bar to catch up.

Chan walked into the bar, throwing a few “hi’s” and “long time no see” to the people he has left in the town. “Chan over here” I.n said waving him over. “Oh hey guys” Chan said happily, exchanging a few hugs and dap ups. “So how you been, how is city life treating you?” Hyunjin asks eagerly, as Chan sits down next to the seat next to Changbin. “It’s good but, I always miss home” Chan says smiling. “And when you mean home you mean us right?” Seungmin says raising an eyebrow. “Of course I mean you guys” Chan says laughing.

The night went on with laughter, drinking and talking. Until Felix decided to address the elephant that wasn’t in the room. “So did you see Y/n” Felix asks as he takes a sip of his rosey drink. “Yea I did just the other day at the hardware store” Chan says looking down at his water downed drink. “She looks the same, well other than the fact that her hair got longer, and she got a bit taller” Chan says thinking about his previous interaction with you. “And she finally grew into her face” Leeknow adds. “And she can strangle us in our sleep” Seungmin says chuckling.

“Her ass got bigger too” Han adds with a laugh. “Oh my goodness here we go again” Hyunjin says annoyed. “He’s not wrong though” I.n says shrugging his shoulders. “Ok nevermind all that, she just grew up gracefully” Felix says admiringly. “You sound like a grandma, just say she’s beautiful” Seungmin says taking a bugle of his fries. “Well she was always beautiful you know, and now that she’s older she looks even better.” Chan says smiling. “Her hair frames her face perfectly, her cheeky smile that-“ Chan continues before getting cut off by the boys booing him. “Just say you’re in love with her dude” changbin says rolling his eyes. “What no no no I’m not in love with her” Chan says embarrassed, as his ears turn red. “Sure Chan and Han has a girl in his bed every night” Hyunjin says with an unimpressed look. “Hey why bring me into this” Han says as he throws his hands up in defense.

“Shhh Han” I.n says patting Han’s back. “We are focusing on the wrong thing here, how did the conversation go with Y/n anyways?” Leeknow asks shifting the attention to Chan. “Um it was something, she said I disappointed her, do you guys know what she’s talking about?” Chan asks the boys. “I-Ooh wow I don’t feel good” Han says anxiously. “What does she mean by that guys?” Chan asks again. “Chan don’t worry, it’s most likely nothing” I.n says trying to reassure him. “Yea you know how she is” Seungmin adds. “Should I talk to her about it then?” Chan asks nervously. “NO!” The boys say simultaneously. “Oh ok I’ll just leave it alone then” Chan says begging to sulk. “Yea it’s for the best” Hyunjin says.

As the night continued Chan never stopped thinking about what I meant by him disappointing me. He wanted to understand what he possibly could’ve done. Is this why i had such a bad attitude with him earlier? Chan’s mind kept running in circles trying to think of some explanation, in the midst he started to overthink.

What if I never talk to him again, did I hate him? Chan had to know. He drove to my home, it was already late. Yet Chan wanted his answer right there and then to relieve his thoughts. As soon as he arrived to my house he rung the doorbell waiting for my response.

I walked down stairs unaware of the unwanted visitor at my doorstep. “Han it’s too late for this, please don’t tell me you had another nightmare” I said tiredly as I rubbed my eyes. I opened the door to reveal Chan. “Oh it’s you, why are you here” I say crossing my arms. “I know I shouldn’t be here but I needed to ask you about something you said to me” Chan says fidgeting with his nails. “What did I say to you?” I say tiredly. “You said I disappointed you, I want you to shed some light on that please” Chan says eagerly.

“What’s there to shed light on, you disappointed me so are we done with this now” I say closing my door, only for it to be stopped by Chan’s foot. “No we aren’t done here” Chan says opening the door. “Listen its to late for this I’m tired ok so just leave me alone” I say annoyed, finally slamming the door in Chan’s face. Chan stood at the doorstep step, confused and hurt. What did he do? And how could fix it?

Chapter 4 coming soon…

#stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids x reader #stray kids #skz x female reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #bang chan x female reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bangchan smut #skz stay #skz #stray kids x you

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reveriebae · 2 days ago

Text

No friendship

pairing(s) : Jung Wooyoung x reader

word count : 3353

summary : Wooyoung and you share a complicated connection, caught between desire and reluctance to start something serious. After a night of tension and flirty moments, things heat up between you and him, pushing your boundaries and complicating the friendship you two don't want to risk. The chemistry between you and him is undeniable, but both are hesitant to cross that line.

genre : slight smut

warning(s) : includes moments of intense physical attraction, sexual tension, and consensual encounters. There are elements of emotional conflict surrounding the characters’ hesitation to enter a relationship, mixed with steamy moments and explicit language. The narrative also explores the blurred line between friendship and desire, as well as the complications that arise from it. Let me know if I missed anything!

part of Songfic

Minors do not interact, 21+ only!!

🪐smut under the cut 🪐

The night was still young when you found yourself in the club, music thumping in the air, heavy with bass that vibrated through your bones. You weren’t looking for anything, not really. You came for the freedom that the lights, the noise, the crowd gave you. A temporary escape from the mundane.

But then you saw him.

Wooyoung. His smile wide, his eyes gleaming with that playful mischief. The guy you knew but didn’t know. He wasn’t a stranger; you’d shared too many late-night conversations, too many moments that bordered on something more, but neither of you had ever crossed that line.

You thought maybe it was for the best. No complications. No messy feelings. Just… friendship. The type of bond that meant you could laugh about anything, but never get too close.

But tonight? The way he was looking at you, leaning casually against the bar, something felt different.

He locked eyes with you, a flicker of something undeniable passing between you. Your heart skipped a beat.

You didn’t know why you’d let it get this far. Why you were letting yourself want more. You didn’t want a relationship. You couldn’t. You weren’t built for it. But there was something about him, the way he moved, the way his confidence and charm clung to him, that made it hard to ignore.

You pushed through the crowd, making your way over to him. Wooyoung’s smirk was quick as he saw you, as if he’d been expecting this. He was never one to shy away from a challenge.

“You look like you’re up to something,” he teased, his voice light, but the way his gaze lingered made it clear there was something beneath the surface.

You leaned against the bar next to him, not quite touching but close enough for the heat between you two to crackle. “I’m not sure if I am. But you definitely seem like you are.”

His laugh was low, almost dangerous, as he turned to face you fully, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the show,” he murmured, eyes flicking to your lips for just a second before he pulled away.

The words hung between you, heavy with unspoken meaning. There was that line again, that line neither of you wanted to cross. The one that could make everything too complicated.

“Or maybe you’re waiting for me to make the first move,” you shot back, unable to hide the edge in your voice.

He paused, his expression flickering for a brief moment before he grinned, that devilish charm back in full force. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t want to mess up what we have.”

You weren’t sure what you were trying to prove. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, the way the music pulsed in your veins, or maybe it was just the sheer attraction you couldn’t deny. Whatever it was, you weren’t about to back down.

You moved closer, your breath brushing against his neck as you whispered in his ear, “We’ve crossed plenty of lines already, haven’t we?”

Wooyoung’s breath hitched slightly, but he didn’t move. Instead, he shifted, his body pressing just a fraction closer, enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You think so?” His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the pounding music. “Maybe. But I don’t think you want to get caught in this with me.”

His words were heavy with something that could have been a warning, but you weren’t backing off. Not now. Not when the pull between you two was so damn strong.

“I don’t know what I want,” you admitted, your voice low and shaky as you looked up at him. “But I know I’m not afraid of this.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Then Wooyoung’s hand slid onto your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer until you could feel the tension between you two becoming unbearable.

“I can’t do this, you know,” he said suddenly, eyes darkening as he looked down at you. “I can’t be the guy who ruins what we have. I don’t want to mess this up.”

The weight of his words hit you, and a mix of frustration and desire swirled inside you. He was right, in a way. Neither of you wanted anything to change, yet there you were, caught in the middle of something that felt too real to ignore.

But there was no turning back now. The pull, the heat—it was too much.

“You won’t ruin anything,” you said, your voice barely more than a breath. “You want this just as much as I do.”

Wooyoung’s grip tightened, his eyes dark and intense as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re sure about that?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because you didn’t know. You didn’t know if this was a mistake or if it was the beginning of something neither of you were ready to face. All you knew was that you wanted him.

And when his lips finally met yours, there was no hesitation. No holding back. It was a kiss full of need and something darker, something you couldn’t define.

You both pulled away after a few moments, breathless, your chest rising and falling in sync. Neither of you said anything, but the silence spoke louder than words.

Neither of you was ready for what this might mean, but you both knew there was no turning back.

You weren’t sure what this was going to be, but you weren’t going to let it go either. You weren’t the kind of people who played it safe.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, his voice rough, the tension thick between you two.

“I know,” you replied softly, but the smile on your face was almost predatory. “But I want to.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flashed, and he closed the space between you again, pressing his lips to yours with an urgency that told you both that no matter how hard you tried to deny it, there was no escaping what you were about to step into.

The kiss broke, but neither of you moved away. The space between you was charged with an intensity that neither of you had expected. Wooyoung’s breath was quick against your lips, but his eyes didn’t leave yours. There was a quiet battle in his gaze—want versus restraint. He wasn’t the type to fall into anything without thinking it through. But here you were, tangled up in something neither of you could deny.

“You don’t have to be so serious about it,” you teased, pushing back the wave of emotions crashing in your chest. “It’s just one night.”

But even as you said it, you could feel the weight of your own words. One night? That wasn’t all this was.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into that devilish smirk you had come to know too well. “Just one night, huh?”

You nodded, trying to make it sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. There was a crack in it, a hesitation that made Wooyoung pause. He didn’t take his eyes off you, as if trying to read you, to figure out if you really meant it or if this was just the heat of the moment.

“I don’t want to mess things up between us,” he murmured, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your jaw, making the heat between you two even more unbearable. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t wrong—neither of you were looking for anything serious, but there was no denying the chemistry. And the way he was touching you now, the way his fingers lingered on your skin, made it impossible to ignore how badly you both wanted this, wanted each other.

“You think this will ruin everything?” you asked, your voice soft, a little unsure, but filled with that same pull that had led you here in the first place.

Wooyoung stepped back slightly, looking you over carefully. He was fighting himself—fighting what you both knew was right there. The desire was there, raw and undeniable. But the question was: what would happen when the morning came? When the high of the night wore off and reality set in?

“Maybe,” he said with a shrug, though his voice held a bite to it, like he was trying to convince himself. “But maybe I’ll regret it. Or maybe you will.”

His words hit differently, sharp and full of uncertainty. You understood the risk. You both did. Neither of you wanted to open the door to something that would only make things messy. But here you were, standing on the edge, staring into the unknown.

“You’re scared,” you whispered, leaning in again, your lips grazing his, just barely enough to feel the heat of his breath.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted. But then his lips curved up into that signature smirk, the one that told you he was done fighting it. “But maybe I don’t care right now.”

With that, Wooyoung pulled you into another kiss. This time, it was more urgent, deeper, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body pressing against yours. There was no more talking, no more questions. It was just the two of you, caught up in the pull of the moment.

But even as his hands roamed, as he kissed you with a hunger that made everything else disappear, there was still a flicker of doubt in the back of your mind. Neither of you had said it out loud, but the thought was there—what happens after this?

When he pulled away, breathless and panting, he didn’t say anything. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable. The same questions were floating between you two, unanswered. You weren’t sure if you were ready to face them.

“So, what now?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, but the uncertainty was there.

Wooyoung didn’t answer immediately. He took a step back, his gaze lingering on your lips for a second before he looked you in the eye, his expression still tight, as if he was trying to keep control of the situation.

“Now,” he said slowly, a crooked grin playing at the corner of his lips, “we figure out what the hell we’re doing.”

You felt your heart race again, the tension building up between you two. You weren’t sure what was happening, or what would happen next, but there was one thing you both knew: neither of you could turn back.

“You sure you want this?” he asked, his voice soft, yet laced with that same dangerous desire that was starting to consume you both.

You didn’t hesitate this time. “I don’t want anything else.”

And with that, the game changed. Wooyoung stepped closer again, his lips finding yours once more, but this time, it was different. No more words. Just the two of you, lost in something neither of you were prepared for but both of you wanted.

The tension in the room was unbearable, and it only grew when Wooyoung’s lips trailed down your neck, sending sparks through your body. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, your back, pulling you impossibly closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the hard length of him pressed against your thigh, and you couldn’t deny the heat pooling between your legs. The craving was undeniable now.

“Tell me you want it,” Wooyoung breathed, his lips brushing your ear. His voice was husky, thick with desire, and you could hear the challenge in his words. He wasn’t going to just give it to you; you had to want it, prove it.

You slid your hands over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin, the hardness of his muscles. His body was pressed so tightly to yours that every little movement sent waves of electricity through you. Your breath hitched as his lips found your jawline, nibbling and kissing his way down until they hovered just above your chest.

“Say it,” he urged, his voice almost a growl now, sending shivers down your spine. “Tell me you need it, that you need me.”

Your hands fisted into the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer, desperate. You wanted him so badly, wanted to feel him fill you, take you like you both had been aching for. “I want you,” you whispered, barely able to breathe as your heart raced. “I need you, Wooyoung.”

A feral smile curled at the edges of his lips, and in one swift motion, he undid your pants, pulling them down along with your underwear, leaving you bare before him. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the heat that surged through you the moment his fingertips ghosted over your thighs, tracing patterns that made your entire body tense.

He leaned in, his breath hot against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teasing you. His lips brushed over your skin so lightly it almost felt like a promise of something far more intense. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me,” Wooyoung muttered, his voice thick with need. “But you’re about to find out.”

Before you could respond, he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing into yours with a hungry force that left no room for hesitation. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, lifting you as he pushed you against the wall. You moaned into his mouth, feeling how his body pressed against yours, the hard outline of his cock straining against his pants. The friction made you ache.

Without breaking the kiss, Wooyoung’s hands slid between you two, and you felt his fingers against your most sensitive spot, teasing and stroking with expert precision. You gasped, your hips jerking instinctively into his touch, craving more, needing more.

“God,” you moaned, unable to control the sound of pleasure that spilled from your lips. Wooyoung smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. His fingers worked you expertly, making you dizzy with the mix of pleasure and anticipation.

“You’re so wet for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his fingers pushed deeper. You gasped at the sensation, your body arching into his hand. “Let go, baby. Let me take care of you.”

The way his voice dropped made you shiver, the heat inside you building as he worked you closer to the edge. Your hands slid down to undo his pants, the need to feel him inside you overwhelming. When you finally freed him, he was already hard, his cock standing at attention, dripping with desire.

With no more words needed, Wooyoung positioned you, one hand gripping your hip, the other guiding himself to your entrance. His eyes met yours, searching for hesitation, but there was none. The need between you two was too strong.

Slowly, he slid into you, the initial stretch leaving you breathless as he filled you completely. You gasped, your nails digging into his back as the pressure inside you built, every inch of him sending waves of sensation through your body. He stilled for a moment, both of you gasping for air as the intensity of the moment settled over you.

“You feel so good,” Wooyoung groaned, his voice raw with pleasure. Then, without warning, he started moving, slowly at first, building a rhythm that had you gasping and gripping him even tighter. Each thrust was deliberate, pushing deeper, harder, until your body was trembling under the force of his movements.

His lips were on your neck again, biting, sucking, marking you as his as his hips slammed into yours. Every sound, every sensation was amplified by the intensity of it all. You couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t process anything except the feeling of him, the heat, the desperate need to keep going.

“You’re so tight,” Wooyoung murmured against your skin, his hands gripping your waist as he pushed into you harder, faster. You moaned in response, your body moving with his, matching the rhythm, chasing the high that was just within reach.

The way he fucked you—raw, primal—pushed you over the edge. You felt the coil inside you tighten until it snapped, your orgasm crashing through you like a wave. You cried out, your body shaking with the intensity of it, and Wooyoung followed right behind, his grip tightening on you as he came with a low groan, his thrusts stuttering as he filled you completely.

You both stood there for a moment, breathless, the world around you nothing but the sound of your heartbeats and the occasional whispered curse. You were both tangled in each other, skin flushed, and the space between you two thick with unsaid things.

As Wooyoung pulled out, he kissed you softly, almost tenderly, as if to erase the fire that had burned between you moments ago. “You know this... this can’t happen again, right?” His voice was quieter now, softer, but the edge of caution was unmistakable. You swallowed, your chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as you tried to process his words.

“I know,” you whispered, looking into his eyes, the heat between you still smoldering despite the air cooling. “But it just did.”

His lips quirked in a bittersweet smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He pulled you back in, his hand cupping your cheek as he kissed you again, but it was slower this time, more lingering, like he was trying to figure out where the lines between you had blurred. When he pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed against yours, the intensity of his stare leaving you a little breathless again.

“You know what I want,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours as he spoke, teasing with the closeness. “But I don’t know if I can give you what you need. I don’t know if I can be what you need.”

You closed your eyes, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It felt familiar now, comfortable, despite everything. Despite the mess you both had just made.

“I don’t need anything, Wooyoung,” you said softly. “Except for this, right now. What we just did.”

He exhaled deeply, almost like a quiet laugh, but it held no joy—just frustration. “That’s the thing. This moment? I can’t stop thinking about it. And that scares me.” His hands moved to your waist again, his thumbs brushing over your skin in absent motions. “I don’t want to mess up everything we’ve got. This... us. I can’t.”

You lifted a hand to his chest, pressing lightly, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. It was as though he was trying to hold onto something more than just the physical right now—something deeper, maybe even more fragile than what he’d let himself believe.

“It’s not about messing things up,” you said quietly, locking your gaze with his. “We’re not crossing lines we can’t uncross. We’re just... figuring it out. Whatever this is, whatever we are.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened at your words, and for a split second, you saw a flash of vulnerability—something he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual confident demeanor flickered, replaced by a quiet longing that made your heart skip.

“You’re right,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours again, this time softer, more like a promise than an act of passion. He was still figuring things out, just as you were. But this... this wasn’t over.

#ateez #ateez fic #ateez smut #smut #wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung imagines #Spotify

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imsuperhungry · 21 hours ago

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the game

Seb and you sat across from each other in the cozy little diner, the warm buzz of chatter and clinking silverware surrounding us. While you both waited for your food to arrive, you figured a bit of conversation would help pass the time—and maybe make the wait feel a little shorter.

It was late at night, the soft hum of the diner lights glowing against the dark outside, a cozy contrast to the buzz of the skatepark earlier. Right now, Seb was going on and on about how much he loved football—his eyes lighting up as he ranted about how he started playing as a kid.

And you know what? You listened to

every

single

word.

It wasn't even about football anymore—it was about him. His voice, the way his eyes sparkled when he got carried away, and the way his hands moved as if the words alone couldn't hold his excitement. You didn't need to understand half the terms he threw around; it was enough just to listen, to see how happy it made him. It was cute, really—like watching a little kid show off their favorite toy, so proud and full of life that you couldn't help but smile right along with him.

You could tell just by the way his eyes lit up, the way his voice took on that soft, excited rhythm, and the little smile he couldn't hide—this was something he was so passionate about. It was in the way his expressions shifted with every story, like he was reliving every moment all over again. Honestly, it was hard not to get swept up in it, too.

But then your food came out, and he had to take a break to eat—mostly because you insisted. You didn't want his food to get cold, even if it meant pausing his excited rambling. He gave you a sheepish grin, like he was already planning to pick up right where he left off the second his plate was empty.

He tried to keep talking, his words muffled by the food in his mouth, but you couldn't help it—you shut him up with a playful look. "Hey, no talking with your mouth full," you teased, giving him a smirk. He rolled his eyes but flashed you a grin, clearly not bothered in the slightest.

You both slipped into another comfortable silence, the kind that felt easy and warm. He focused on his burger, taking big bites, while you savored your wings, the crispy crunches filling the quiet between you. It was peaceful, just the two of you in your little bubble, enjoying the moment.

The silence would've been perfect, if it wasn't interrupted by the same. Fucking. Girl. The one you'd seen earlier at the skate park, and then again before that at the game.

The silence would've been perfect, if it wasn't interrupted by the same. Fucking. Girl. The one you'd seen earlier at the skate park, and then again before that at the game. She walked over, wearing a tight, white crop top that showed off a bit too much and a pair of ripped jeans that looked like they came straight off a mannequin. Her blonde hair was perfectly styled, even though she wasn't in her cheerleader uniform this time. It was all bouncy waves, effortlessly perfect. She flashed you a smile, way too bright for the moment. "Hey! We just keep running into each other, huh? I feel like it's a sign that we need to hang out!" she said, her voice sweet, but there was something about it that made your skin crawl.

"Yeah, either that or you're following us," you thought to yourself, a small eye roll tugging at the corner of your mind. Something about her just didn't sit right, and the way she kept popping up felt too deliberate. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was up to something.

"Hey, me and her are on a date here, and you're kind of interrupting it, man," Seb said, his tone sharp as he glanced at her. He didn't even try to hide the annoyance in his voice, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made it clear he wasn't in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

She furrowed her brows, glancing between the two of you with a sly look, her gaze lingering on you a bit longer than necessary.

"Really? Why don't you both come over then? My friends wanna see you guys," she said, her tone sugary sweet but with an edge, as if she was trying to pull you in while completely ignoring Seb. The way she looked at you made it clear she wasn't all that interested in him, but she wasn't going to give up so easily.

Sighing, you gave up, figuring agreeing was the quickest way to get her off your back. You weren't in the mood for this, but it seemed easier than arguing. Plus, you didn't want her hanging around any longer than necessary.

"You know what? Sure. Why not?" you said, forcing a smile that was way too bright to be genuine, hoping she'd get the hint. You could practically feel the fakeness dripping from your words, but she didn't seem to notice—of course she didn't.

Seb looked at you, clearly confused, his eyebrows furrowing as he tried to make sense of your response. He leaned over the table, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "What the fuck?" His voice was low, a mix of surprise and a little concern, like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or call you out on it.

"Don't worry, this will get them to talk to us for now, and later on, after this, I pinky promise to make it up to you," you whispered back, the words slipping out with a playful edge, your voice light with an obvious attempt to flirt. You shot him a wink, hoping the mix of charm and reassurance would make up for the awkward situation.

He backed up, his goofy grin spreading across his face as he looked at you, clearly not bothered by the whole situation anymore. With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he stood up from the booth and offered you his hand, an invitation for you to join him. "After you," he said with a smirk, like the whole mess was already forgotten.

You grabbed his hand, letting him guide you as the girl led the way, practically skipping ahead with an eager bounce in her step. She led you both to a booth, and as she slid into the seat directly across from you and Seb, you couldn't help but notice how her eyes lingered on you just a little too long. She settled in with a smile, as if she'd already won some unspoken game.

Once they all saw you, there was a subtle shift in their expressions. They stiffened just a little, their eyes drifting over you and Seb with an intensity that felt a little too much for a casual glance. It was like they were trying to figure you out, not with curiosity, but with something deeper, like a quiet assessment. Their focus lingered on you longer than it should have, as if trying to decide what to make of you. Meanwhile, the way they looked at Seb—well, it wasn't exactly friendly. There was a coolness to their gaze, like they didn't quite trust him, or maybe they just didn't like him being this close to you. It was subtle, but you could feel it—tension simmering beneath the surface.

"Hey, guys..." you said awkwardly, standing in front of the table, your gaze flicking between them. The atmosphere felt off, like the air had thickened, and you weren't sure if it was just your nerves or if they were subtly sizing you up. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to shake off the feeling of being under a microscope as you waited for them to say something.

There were two boys and one girl at the booth. The girl was sitting next to one of the boys, his hand casually resting on her thigh, the gesture almost too possessive for the casual setting. The other boy was alone, probably because the girl who had spoken to you earlier sat beside him, her attention already focused on you and Seb. The whole setup felt off—like they were a little too close, a little too comfortable, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle tension in the air.

"Hey, what's your name?" The boy sitting alone asked, his voice deep but surprisingly soft. His brows were furrowed in what looked like concentration, though his expression seemed a little too intense for someone who probably didn't think much about anything. He had messy blonde hair that looked like it had been styled with no effort at all, and his broad shoulders gave off that classic himbo vibe—strong, but in a laid-back, almost clueless way. Despite his tough exterior, there was something disarmingly charming about him, even if his intense stare made you wonder what was really going on behind those pretty blue eyes.

You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice soft but steady. You told them you name, offering them a polite smile, though you couldn't shake the feeling of being sized up by their intense gazes. Then, you shifted slightly, trying to break the awkward tension. "What about you guys? What are your names?" You glanced around the table, your eyes landing on each of them, hoping to keep the conversation flowing without feeling too out of place.

"I'm Lillith," the girl who had dragged you over here said, her voice sweet but with a hint of something sharp beneath it, like she was always in control. Her blonde hair shimmered under the diner lights, looking almost too perfect, like something straight out of a glossy magazine. She gestured to the boy sitting next to her, his hand still on her thigh. "This is Damian," she said, her tone softening just a touch when she spoke his name, as if she had a quiet understanding with him.

Damian gave a small nod, his brooding expression unchanged, and you noticed how his eyes lingered on you just a little longer than necessary. Then, Lillith pointed to the boy across from her, his posture relaxed but that distant air still hanging around him. "That's Seth," she said, her voice taking on a casual tone, as if she didn't mind the cool distance he kept.

Finally, Lillith turned her gaze back to you with a small, almost playful smile. "And that's Mara," she said, nodding toward the girl who had dragged you here in the first place. Mara gave you a quick, tight smile, her eyes scanning you like she was already deciding what to make of you. There was something subtle, almost predatory, in the way she looked at you, but she masked it with a politeness that didn't quite reach her eyes. The whole group seemed perfectly mismatched, but there was an undeniable tension simmering between them—like they all knew something you didn't.

"Well, nice to meet you all..." Seb said awkwardly, his voice a little higher than usual as he tried to hold in a laugh. You could see it in the way his eyes darted around the table—he was clearly uncomfortable, the tension in the air too thick for him to ignore. Despite his usual confidence, he was struggling to find the right words, his usual charm nowhere to be found in the face of this oddly intense group.

You could almost feel the weight of the silence that followed, the kind of silence where everyone was waiting for someone else to speak, but no one really wanted to. Damian's eyes flicked over to Seb for a second, giving him a brief, unreadable look. Lillith's smile didn't waver, but there was a sharpness in her gaze that felt calculating, like she was deciding how much of Seb's discomfort she wanted to poke at. Seth, on the other hand, didn't seem to react at all, his eyes half-lidded, still scanning you and Seb with that detached, almost bored look.

You decided that now was probably a good time to try and leave. The conversation felt like it was teetering on the edge of something uncomfortable, and you really weren't in the mood to sit through more of it. Without saying anything, you reached over and grabbed onto Seb's hand, giving it a light squeeze. The tension in the air felt like it was suffocating, and you could tell it wasn't just you who wanted to escape.

You gently tugged at Seb's hand, trying to turn away from the table without drawing too much attention. "Hey, Seb, let's go," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but you were hoping he'd pick up on the urgency. The last thing you wanted was to linger here any longer than necessary.

"Woah, woah, woah! We haven't gotten his name!" Mara said, her voice sharp and insistent as she suddenly grabbed your wrist.

The sudden movement made you freeze for a second, her grip tight but not enough to hurt. Her fingers curled around your wrist like she wasn't about to let you go anytime soon. The playful smile she had earlier was gone, replaced with something a little more demanding, a little more possessive. It sent a chill through you, but you forced a smile, trying to keep things light.

"You're not in a hurry, are you?" Mara said, tilting her head slightly as she studied you. There was something subtle in her eyes, a glint of something you couldn't quite place, but it made you uneasy.

Lillith's gaze lingered on you too, her smile still in place, but the tension in her expression was hard to ignore. Damian, as usual, said nothing, but you could feel his eyes on you, almost like he was waiting for something. Seth, too, hadn't moved an inch, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the slight shift in his posture suggested he was watching carefully, waiting for how you'd react.

You could feel Seb's hand tighten around yours as he glanced at Mara, clearly not pleased with her hold on you. The air had thickened again, and now it felt like a strange tug-of-war between wanting to leave and being pulled deeper into their web.

You turned around, plastering a passive-aggressive smile on your face as you met Mara's eyes. "This is Seb," you said, pointing towards him with a slight flick of your finger, the words coming out more forced than you intended. You could feel the tension hanging in the air, thick and uninviting.

Seb stood there awkwardly for a second, his hand still holding yours, and gave a half-hearted wave. "Uh, hey," he said, clearly still trying to figure out how to handle the situation, but the discomfort was written all over his face.

Mara's grip on your wrist remained firm, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she didn't quite buy the lighthearted tone you were trying to put on. "Nice to meet you, Seb," she said, but there was something a little too sharp in her voice, as though she was making a mental note of every detail about him.

Lillith, on the other hand, didn't say anything but watched you closely, her lips curving into an almost amused smile. Damian and Seth were still quiet, though you could feel the weight of their gazes following your every move.

The group wasn't making this easy, but you were determined to get out of there.

By now, you were sure you were garnering attention. The commotion when Mara had grabbed onto your wrist was loud enough to draw eyes from other tables, some curious, some awkwardly trying to pretend they hadn't noticed. The quiet chatter of the diner had shifted, and you could feel the weight of several sets of eyes on you, the uncomfortable heat of their stares burning into the back of your neck.

"Sup..." Seb said, his voice a little flat. His posture screamed discomfort, and you could tell he was desperately searching for an escape from this awkward situation. His eyes flicked to you, a silent plea for help in them, before he looked around, clearly hoping for some kind of distraction to pull him away from the tension that had built up around the table.

Mara's grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, but she still smiled, that same sharp smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, you two are so cute together," she said, her voice dripping with something you couldn't quite put your finger on. It wasn't exactly friendly, and it wasn't exactly threatening—just possessive in a way that made your skin crawl.

You could feel Seb's hand shift in yours, his thumb brushing over your palm in an attempt to ground himself. He was already uncomfortable, but now you could tell he was getting fed up. You didn't blame him. This whole thing had become a game to Mara, and you were stuck in the middle of it.

"Well, we have to go, thanks," you said, your voice clipped as you grabbed Seb's hand, pulling him towards the door. You could feel his confusion, but you didn't care anymore. You just needed to get out of there.

Mara didn't let go immediately. For a moment, her fingers lingered on your wrist, like she was testing whether you'd actually walk away or not. Her eyes were intense, unreadable, but that same twisted smile remained on her lips.

"You're not running off already, are you?" she asked, the words sweet but carrying an underlying threat.

You ignored her, tugging Seb along as you both made your way toward the door, the weight of the others' stares heavy on your back.

As you reached the door, you heard them shout something after you, but you didn't care to stay and listen. The words were muffled and meaningless, fading behind you as you stepped into the night air. You were already pissed—pissed that Mara had ruined your date, pissed that you let yourself get dragged into their little game. The last thing you wanted was to deal with their weird, possessive energy.

Seb followed you out, his pace matching yours as you walked away from the diner, the door swinging shut behind you with a soft chime. He glanced over at you, still clearly unsure of what had just happened, but there was a glint of something in his eyes—maybe amusement, maybe something else. He wasn't going to press you for details, though, not yet.

You could feel the weight of your frustration still buzzing in your veins, and all you wanted now was to get away from that group.

#oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yanderes #x reader #yandere oc #poly yandere

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clowndensation · 2 years ago

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favorite zesek pictures so far <3

#i will NEVER shut up about my boy. he is such a raptor.#character in game goes 'so what color dragonborn are you supposed to be anyways?'#and zesek- well i mean and then zesek intimidates them into shutting up for presuming to ask him a question #but if someone he LIKED asked that question. well. okay he still wouldn't be helpful he'd be like '🤨 isn't it obvious from my coloring?'#and then make the person feel so idiotic they dropped it thus leaving the question unanswered #however if THOSE TWO THINGS didn't happen. so it was someone he not only liked but respected #he would be like. well i don't remember my parents. but i spit acid.#and then walk away while a little dice rolls above their head to see if they passed the nature check that will tell them what that means #and when they pass they're like oh! hey wait a second but aren't you a sorcerer? you also spite fire and ice and poison-#but it's too late. he's already moved on from the conversation.#zesek #bg3

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sugoroo · 4 months ago

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ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, reader plays volleyball, masturbation, oral (f receiving), obsessive behaviour, boobjob, penetration (p in v), 18+ minors dni.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who decides you're going to be his the very first time he sees you playing volleyball on the beach with your teammates wearing those pitiful scraps of material that can hardly be classified as a bikini.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes sure to pick up any and every extra shift he can just so he can figure out exactly what times you come down to the shore to practise.

pervy lifeguard!gojo whose new favourite pastime is just to sit in his lookout post, barely paying attention to the water to keep an eye on anybody who may be in potential danger — no, lately, his gaze always seems to be fixed squarely upon you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but push his sunglasses up to rest in his hair so he can get a clearer view of you as you move around the sand, the way your scantily-clad body moves whenever you jump to hit the ball over the net just hypnotizing the poor man.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to disregard his duties completely to duck into a nearby beach hut when it becomes too much to just watch you, furiously fisting his leaking cock to the delicious mental image of your ass bouncing as you played.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who emerges from the hut looking like an utter mess, snowy locks dishevelled and swimming trunks hanging low on his hips as he stumbles back over to his lookout post. his strange behavior even grants him a few curious look from nearby beachgoers, but he couldn't care less.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who finds his hands clenching into tight fists by his sides when he observes one of the boys from the opposing volleyball team shaking your hand after a match. it's just a sign of mutual respect between players — he knows that.

but that doesn't mean it irritates him any less.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who finally gathers the confidence to actually approach you later that afternoon while you're packing up your things, idly scratching the back of his undercut while he tries to think of a normal way to start a conversation.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who doesn't have to speak at all in the end, because you say the first words for him, greeting him with that pretty little smile of yours that he's only been able to see from afar up until now and outstretching a hand for him to shake.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but let a pleased grin spread across his lips while he returns the gesture, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction rising in his chest that his own touch on your palm has erased that previous guy's.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who falls even harder for you (if that's possible) during the few minutes he talks with you. it's nothing more than a friendly interaction between two regular beachgoers, but to him, it's one of many more to come.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels like he could do an embarrassing victory dance on the sand right then and there when you casually mention an upcoming volleyball competition that you'll be playing in. so you want him to be there, huh?

he nonchalantly responds that he might just be able pop by and watch some of it during his break — as if he isn't already planning on completely abandoning his post in favour of spectating the entire match instead.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is so full of excitement during the week leading up to the tournament that he just can't keep quiet about it for even a single second. his poor bestfriend lifeguard!geto is beginning to feel like he's the one with the giant, pathetic crush on you at this point.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who would most likely be fired if his boss was to see him right now, sprawled across a bench and watching you compete at volleyball instead of looking out for drowning children in the waves.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is sporting a not-so-subtle tent in his swimming trunks as he sits there, which he tries in vain to hide by crossing his legs over his lap. i mean, can you really blame him? just look at the way those doughy tits of yours jiggle in that downright sinful bikini top!

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to clench his jaw to stop from snapping various profanities at the nearby beachgoers who have stopped in their tracks just to witness the match — he's not oblivious, he can see them checking you out just as he is.

but it's different when he does it. why? because you're going to be his soon enough. don't they understand that?

pervy lifeguard!gojo who isn't surprised in the slightest when your team easily triumphs over the other. after all, the opposing team doesn't have you on it. and although he knows little to nothing about volleyball, he can easily declare that you must be the best at it.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who would ideally like to run up to you and gush about how well you performed, but due to the very visible... problem in his trunks, ends up darting into the nearest beach hut for the second time this month to relieve himself because of you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is halfway through sloppily jerking his hips up into his closed fist when sunlight suddenly starts to flit through the gap in the door — shit, he was so worked up he forgot to even close it.

rookie mistake, satoru.

pervy lifeguard!gojo whose eyes widen to the size of saucers when he realizes it's you who just walked in through the doorway, shutting it gently behind you. he's about to start furiously apologizing for what you stumbled in on when he notices you don't seem nearly as shocked as you probably should be.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can only watch in stunned silence as you slowly saunter closer to him, your hands hidden behind your back as they easily untie the strings of your bikini top before letting it fall to the floor.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who releases what can only be described as a pornographic moan at the sight of your freed breasts, his neglected cock twitching beneath his hand as he ogles you without shame. if he had any self-awareness left, he might've been embarrassed of the small trickle of drool oozing from his slackened mouth.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels his cheeks flush a shade of red brighter than the leaking tip of his bobbing cock when you purr to him... "do you really think i haven't noticed you checking me out for these past few weeks, mr lifeguard?"

pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow finds himself living out a scenario lewder than the wildest of wet dreams he's had about you, his jittery hips thrusting erratically between your tits as you keep them pressed together for him with your hands.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who reaches what is undoubtably the fastest orgasm of his life, his sunglasses toppling from his head as it falls back in bliss, messy white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat as he releases a series of broken groans and whimpers.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who immediately joins you on your knees once he's come down from his euphoric high, long pink tongue lolling out to lap up every drop of sticky cum he split on your pretty tits, sucking and nipping at every inch of supple skin within reach.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who just can't stop yapping, going on and on about how perfect you are, how you've been on his mind for what feels like forever, how sexy you look when you're hitting around that volleyball.

it seems the only way to actually shut pervy lifeguard!gojo up is to shove his beautiful face between your legs, the only sounds leaving him now being mewls of enjoyment as he mouths at your saccharine taste through your bikini bottoms.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is already too lost in you to properly remove the material keeping him from your pussy, instead lazily yanking it to the side with a single finger so he can dive nose-deep into your sweet cunt like he's been dreaming about doing for weeks.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who is just so messy with it, practically making out with your dripping hole as he rapidly delves his tongue in and out, moaning so shamelessly you'd think he was the one getting eaten out and not you.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes you cum using only his sloppy mouth so many times neither of you even know just how long you've been cooped up in this beach hut where there's a real possibility that someone could walk in at any given moment.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't hold himself back from fucking you anymore — he's waited long enough already, after all. so he's effortlessly manhandling you onto your back as he pushes in, eyes locked onto the sight of your tits still glistening with his saliva and cum from earlier.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who buries his face between the valley of your breasts as he ruts into you like a rabid animal, word after word of slurred praise failing from his lips as he looks up you with those wide, lovestruck cerulean eyes.

god, he's so fucking obsessed with you. getting to finally feel you like this was just the last nail in the coffin.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow cums even harder than his previous climax, the overwhelming sensation of the tight, spongy walls of your cunt pulling him back in over and over again just unravelling his hazy mind with ease.

pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to psychically stop himself from letting out a choked whisper of 'i love you' as he spills his milky seed right into your womb where his cockhead is lodged, seemingly having enough awareness left to know that it's much too soon for that.

instead, pervy lifeguard!gojo settles for fixing you with a dopy grin so wide that both rows of his glinting pearly whites are on full display, murmuring a cheeky... "what do you say we make this a routine after every competition, pretty baby?"

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

pervy yoga instructor!geto <- PREVIOUS.

pervy electrician!toji -> NEXT.

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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months ago

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Tattoo artist!rafe x angel!reader who lets rafe do her secret tats, the ones that her parents have no clue about.

warnings: secret tattoos, suggestive so MDNI, he does end up touching and looking at your boobs LMFAO, nd this is for my girls with spaced out titties (me) ✊🏽

♫ dirty little secret, the all-american rejects

“Shit, is that who I think it is?” His voice causes you to look up, smiling at him with a little wave, standing up from the leather couch you were sat on, pocketing your phone and walking towards him.

“My favorite client.” He complimented, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you with a grin on his face.

“Aww… you’re too sweet.”

“How are you? It’s been a little. Last I saw you was church.” He said with a chuckle, you shrugging.

“Same old. How about you?”

“It’s been… going. You know, can’t complain. But I was really glad when I saw you dm me.” He spoke, motioning for you to follow him back when he began to walk. He led you into a room, shutting the door behind him. You sat down, nerves shooting as he turned back to you.

“So, I got the reference all drawn out.” He spoke while grabbing the stencil, showing it to you. “What do you think?”

“It’s amazing! As always.”

He smiled, flattered. He began putting his gloves on, your heart thumping against your chest as you sat down. You were nervous for two reasons, one being that tattoos always made you nervous, rightfully so. Reason two, well, that was because Rafe, one of your best friends who you had a fat crush on, was about to see you completely topless. It’s not like he hasn’t before, last appointment being a pair of little angel wings on your back, leaving you in your bra.

But now, he was literally going to see you without a bra. Maybe you should have picked another artist.

But it was too late to turn back now, you realized after he turned back, cleaning supplies for your skin in hand, along with the stencil.

“Uhm- can you take off your shirt and bra f’me?” He nodded at you, your cheeks warming up at the words. “Here, I’ll-“ he murmured, turning around to give you some sort of privacy, his back facing you. You tugged off both garments of clothing, and swallowed the lump that formed in your throat when he turned to look back at you. You sat back down on the chair.

“You all good?” He asked you, trying his best to look at your face rather than your tits as he walked closer to the chair. He grabbed the cleaning supplies, cleaning near and on the area where you wanted it before drying your skin off.

“Mhm.” You nodded, watching as his eyes traveled down your body, a spark in his eyes, he moved his hands slowly, beginning to line the little bow stencil up. His hands grazed the skin of your breasts, causing your breath to hitch. You held them in your hands, shielding them from his eyes.

“Okay… you said right here, correct?” He spoke, glancing into your eyes as he placed the stencil where the valley of where your boobs were, trying his best to remain professional despite everything. God, he hoped you couldn’t see the way his cock started to stir in his pants.

You nodded at him, him poking his tongue out of his mouth as he put it against your skin, smoothing it against your body before peeling it back, the ink now on your skin.

He sighed out in relief, it was perfectly placed and he hadn’t given away that he was rock hard.

“You want a water?” He asked you, you nodding at him. “Alright. I’ll be back.” He spoke, you finally taking a breath when he walked out of the room.

Not only was it an almost seemingly very long appointment, he made it worse every time you felt his hands brush up on your body.

You tried your best to have casual conversation, but god, was he making it hard.

“Hey, did you ever tell your parents about this?” He asked you randomly, you looking at him with a furrowed eyebrow. “Just out of curiosity. I know how they are.”

“Definitely not. They would kill me. They already think that anyone else with tattoos is ‘sent by the devil.’”

He chuckled, “heard that one before.”

You found yourself staring at his pillowy lips when he spoke, or his hands when he traced over the stencil carefully.

And once it was done, he gave you a fucking discount.

“Wait, whys it cheaper?” You asked him, looking at him with confusion on your face.

“I told you, you’re my favorite client. Plus, I can’t say I disliked the view I got during it.” He was getting bolder, a smirk making its way onto his face.

Cheeky motherfucker.

You tilted your head to the side with a little pout on your lips. “Are you sure? I feel bad.”

“I’m sure, princess.” He chuckled. “Just come back, yeah? Needa see you more.”

“Well, actually… if you want, I’m having this party next weekend… you know,” you shrugged, casually leaning over the counter. “My parents are out of town for a while.” You told him, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised his eyebrows at the invitation.

“Yeah?” He hummed out.

“Mhm.” You nodded, “you should come!”

“Oh, I definitely will.”

You smiled at him, leaning further over the counter to kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you so much, Rafey!” You told him when you turned around to leave, waving bye to him.

“Anytime, angel!”

#angel!reader #tattoo artist rafe #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb

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starlightkyeom · 1 month ago

Text

lost in the west | kmg

(where your best friend pretends to be your boyfriend for the holidays so you can avoid more nagging from your mother. except your whole family thought you were already dating)

pairing: mingyu x f!reader genre: fake dating (kind of), friends to lovers, holiday!au | fluff, smut, romance rating: explicit, minors do not interact word count: 18.1k warnings: eating, drinking, mentions of christmas and holiday celebrations, reference to mingyu being afraid of heights, some minor family dynamic issues, so much kissing, fingering, big dick!mingyu, sex (just plain old missionary), i think that's it

author's note: thank you to the amazing @camandemstudios studios for hosting the winter with you collab! it's been so fun to be part of (even if i forgot for a second that i had to include sunrise sledding, but we're ignoring that). i'm sorry this is a little late as a holiday fic but sometimes life happens and inspiration just doesn't want to strike. i'm not even going to say it's longer than i intended because that's just my brand atp. this is largely unedited.

author's note 2: i think there's going to be an epilogue but idk when that will be possible

tag list: @vitaminkyeom, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @divinityyy, @dibidibidismynameisleeknow, @tinkerbell460, @aidanjoon, @cookiearmy, @kaepjjangiya (join my taglist here)

“You’re bringing your boyfriend back with you, aren’t you?” your mom asks, which makes you look sharply toward the phone. It’s on speaker because you’re in the middle of folding laundry. Your best friend also looks over towards your phone with a grimace, which makes you wish it wasn’t on speaker.

The thing is…you haven’t told your mom that your ex and you broke up about two months ago. Didn’t want to deal with all the sighing and interrogation while you’re rushing to finish end of the year deadlines at work. Somehow, you know it’ll be your fault. Never mind the fact that he cheated on you in your own apartment. But, that’s another story. Your mother will say something about how you shouldn’t be so picky and everyone makes mistakes. Say that sometimes it’s not your most attractive trait that you’re dedicated to your job. Say that you’re not getting any younger and remind you how many of your friends from school are already married or even having kids of their own. That’s one reminder you don’t really need. You see it every time you aimlessly scroll through your feed. Or when you open the mail and see another wedding invitation.

You sigh. “Well, actually…”

“Oh, don’t tell me,” your mother says with her own sigh. “You broke it off with this one, too?”

“I’m not going to get into it with you,” you say, gentle but firm.

“I don’t understand what could have made you break it off. You said he was like your best friend,” she reminds you.

This earns an eye roll from one of your actual best friends, Mingyu. He takes over folding your clothes for you as something to do and as a way to speed up the whole process.

“Well, he’s not and I don’t see any reality where I will forgive him for what he did to me. So, let’s move on,” you say.

“Maybe that’s okay. You know, one of my friends has a son who’s single and I could just…” she starts.

“No, absolutely not,” you say. This causes Mingyu to stifle his laughter with a hand.

“I don’t understand what the harm in meeting him is. He seems very nice and you’re not exactly getting any younger,” she says.

There it is. The conversation always somehow ends up at the same point. You’re not getting any younger. All your parents’ friends have been planning weddings and getting grandchildren. They all seem to understand the importance of building a family. Why do you have to be so focused on what’s wrong with every person you date? Why are you too wrapped up in work? Your parents constantly remind you how you seem too wrapped up in the city life to realize what you’re missing.

“I just don’t think…” you start but then trail off when Mingyu starts waving at you to get your attention. He’s pointing at himself and mouthing something you can’t understand.

“I know you don’t think, but just…” your mom starts and you mute yourself so you can figure out what your best friend wants.

“What, Mingyu?” you ask, sharper than you intend.

“Take me back with you for the holidays,” he says.

“What?” you ask.

“Take me…” he starts.

“No, I heard you. What are you on about?” you ask.

“You can just feed your mom some line. Tell her you and I just started dating. It doesn’t matter. Anything to just get her off your case,” he says.

“I’m not…what is wrong with you? I’m not going to just fake date you like some weird holiday movie,” you argue.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Those movies aren’t weird, they’re great. And second of all, what do you have to lose? Your mom loves me and she’ll be thrilled to see me. I already know everyone that’ll be at the parties and dinners. My parents are out of the country visiting my sister and her new boyfriend for the holidays, so I was only going to my cousin’s as kind of a pity invite. It can’t possibly fail,” he says.

“There are a lot of ways it could fail, actually,” you point out.

“Wow, are you going to leave me stranded for the holidays? I’m already rethinking this relationship,” Mingyu says through a pout. “My own partner doesn’t even want to spend the holidays with me. Are you embarrassed to bring me around your family?”

“So what do you say?” comes your mom’s voice. You had been blocking it out while talking to Mingyu, yet it still catches your attention.

You quickly unmute yourself and look away from Mingyu. “I…actually can’t, Mom. I’m sort of seeing someone different, but it’s new so I wasn’t going to mention…”

“Oh, you already found someone new, that’s wonderful!” she exclaims.

You don’t have to look at Mingyu to know that he’s wearing a grin that’s entirely too satisfied. Even if he’s mostly kidding about being abandoned for Christmas, you know that it’s been bugging him that his parents decided to go abroad. You also know that he wouldn’t ever dream of inviting himself to tag long even if that’s what he wanted to do. He actually likes your family, sometimes more than you do.

“I’ll have to ask him if he’s willing to come with me, but…” you try to say before your mother cuts you off again.

“Tell him it simply wouldn’t be the holidays without him. I can’t wait to meet him. Oh, I’m going to tell your father. We may manage to get you married after all,” she says in seemingly one breath.

“I still haven’t…” you try again without any luck.

“I can’t wait to see you both! Love you!” she says.

“Love y-...” you say, but she’s already ended the call.

“I guess I have holiday plans after all,” Mingyu says and you fight the urge to throw a pillow at him.

“This is a terrible idea. I can’t pretend we’re dating,” you say and crinkle your nose.

“Oh, wow, have I offended your high standards?” he asks. “Should I remind you of your last two relationships?”

You do throw the pillow at him this time.

Despite all the questions from your parents about just who is coming home with you for the holidays, you insist that it needs to be a surprise. You definitely think that your parents will be surprised when they see Mingyu on their doorstep. Even though you only met Mingyu in college, the two of you have been nearly inseparable since then. He’s come with you to countless family events to keep you company, especially between other relationships. Your parents buy him Christmas presents every year and insist on video chatting with both of you on his birthdays. Your younger cousins ask when he’s going to be coming around again because they look up to him, both literally and figuratively. It’s kind of annoying sometimes because you wonder if they like him more than their own family member. But, you reason it away with them liking him for the same reasons that you do. He’s just so easy to be around, though they get more of his polite company attitude than you do. Around you, he’s much more relaxed and somehow more prone to pouting to get his way.

More unfortunately, the pout always seems to work on you. You pretend to be annoyed with it (well, it’s not always pretending, actually), but you give in every time. Which is fine when it’s just the two of you. It’s less fine when other friends are around because they all have smug looks. Convinced that you and him are end game and neither of you realizes yet. The worst, though, is when he slips into the pout mode around your family and you have to deal with the looks from your family members. It’s all worth it to have someone to act as a buffer, even if you’ll never tell him as much.

Before you get to that point of seeing your parents, you figure that you should stop by to see your childhood best friend first. Of course, he already knows the whole story with Mingyu and doesn’t seem entirely surprised. After all, he’s also known your mom nearly his whole life. Somehow you went from kids forced together when the parents hung out to adults that actually still genuinely love each other, which means he knows Mingyu well too. In his role as best friend, your current situation will not spare you from his teasing. That’s a role he’s happily embraced all your lives.

The smirk on his face is present as soon as he sees you and Mingyu walk into the coffee shop. Mingyu hasn’t even spotted him while he unwinds his scarf and heads to the counter to order drinks. You say you’re going over to sit with your friend and only then does Mingyu notice you’re not the first ones here.

“Hey Kwan, you good on your drink?” he calls.

“Yeah, thanks,” he calls back before his eyes turn on you like he’s got a secret.

You make your way over to his table and try not to react to the look he’s giving you. Typical Seungkwan looking like he’s about to burst with the latest gossip. Even when he knows exactly why you have Mingyu with you and even said, over text, he gets why you agreed. Ugh. You know better than to think he’ll let you live for even a second. Sometimes you think you need better friends.

“Has he gotten taller?” Seungkwan asks, casting his eyes over at your other friend.

“No, but for real,” you say with a laugh. “I swear, I see him constantly and I still feel like he’s getting taller.”

“Constantly, huh?” Seungkwan asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We’re best friends,” you say with a sigh.

“And what am I?” he asks.

“Also my best friend. There’s no rule on having only one,” you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Are you nervous to head back to your parents’ house?” he asks, entirely switching approaches.

It’s not your first rodeo, though. “Why should I be? They like Mingyu, at least, so there won’t be any of the awkwardness beyond explaining that we’re dating now.”

“Which probably isn’t going to come as a surprise to them,” Seungkwan says.

“I mean, why wouldn’t it be a surprise?” you ask before you clock the look on his face. “Oh, don’t tell me this is more of that bullshit about how often I bring him around. You know my family is insufferable if I have to deal with them alone.”

“No, I just know for a fact that they’ve wondered if you were dating him before,” Seungkwan says as Mingyu finally joins you with two coffees in hand.

“That would mean she would need to have good enough taste to date someone as great as me,” he says when he sets your coffee in front of you.

“I’m so torn,” Seungkwan admits. “I could insult her taste in relationships, which, love you babe, but really? Or I could insult you as not really being any better than anyone she’s dated.”

“That one gets us both, though?” you point out, only a little offended.

“Option two it is,” Seungkwan agrees.

“Okay, enough of that. Fill me in on everything before I have to walk into the lion’s den,” you say.

It’s always the same when you catch up with Seungkwan. He’s thriving even though he chose not to leave the area where you grew up. It’s not that big of an area, but he’s found opportunities. You just found those opportunities a little further away. Just far enough away that your mother can’t easily pop by unannounced. That lead time before she shows up is usually enough that you can mentally prepare.

Seungkwan, for his part, really does brighten up the entire space, when he’s not being a demon. He’s got that kind of shine that can’t even be dulled by staying in the same general area as his family. He’s also better at setting boundaries, which he gently reminds you again. He doesn’t need the space and preparation time of his family showing up at his place unannounced because they all know that’s not allowed. It’s not that you’re a pushover, it’s just that it feels different. Even your parents seem to respect Seungkwan more than you at times. You try not to let the cynicism of being a woman seep into those feelings. But, it’s hard. Harder still when Seungkwan gives you the sympathetic look like he wants to agree and knows it won’t really help anything. He’s always been that special brand of ally. The one that actually does want to help and understands the inherent privilege.

Unfortunately, Seungkwan and his family won’t be coming to the events that your parents have planned for the next week, though they’re always invited. They wanted to do something more focused on their family instead. It probably seems like something over the top to anyone on the outside. To you, it just seems normal. This is how your parents always handle the holidays and most events seem to take place at their house.

All too soon, Seungkwan says that he needs to get back to something and reminds you that you can’t put off going home any longer. You’re already getting dangerously close to what your mother considers late. It’s probably not the best idea to test her patience before the week even starts.

Mingyu takes care of getting you over to your parents house. Maybe fake dating him for a week won’t be so bad when he takes care of driving without asking and doesn’t even need an address. Since he also already knows your entire family, he doesn’t need help with getting gifts to bring with him. That includes both something to give them when you get there as well as actual Christmas gifts. You remember telling him that wasn’t necessary and remember the look of horror on his face when he asked what kind of fake boyfriend he would be if he forgot. Despite the weirdness of the situation, you also find yourself far more at peace than the last time you brought an actual partner home like this. Mingyu has seen you through a lot of ups and downs. Knows when to be serious and when to crack a little joke to break the tension, even if it’s something only for your ears.

That all disappears as soon as your mother greets you at the door with a look of genuine surprise on her face.

“Surprise,” you say. It seems a little redundant because she seems shocked. “You, uh, you remember Mingyu, right?”

“Of course, of course, come in out of the cold,” she says, recovering quickly as she steps out of the way. “Let me get your coats.”

“I know this is probably a bit of a surprise,” you start.

“It definitely is,” she agrees as she takes Mingyu’s and your coats. “Your father is just in the family room.”

“I figured it would be a good surprise,” you offer as you start to follow her into the house.

“No, of course it is. We adore Mingyu, you know that,” she says with a soft smile for Mingyu. She’s always loved him. “We just, well, we thought you and him had broken up…”

“Broken…what?” you ask, your own shock now matching your mother’s as you come to a complete halt.

Mingyu seems to just stay quiet through this entire exchange. You’re wondering why until you look over at him to see that he’s barely containing his laughter. Of course he would find this whole thing funny. Maybe he believes Seungkwan that your parents have wondered if you were dating him. Or maybe he’s just quicker on the uptake. Whatever it, it would be annoying if your brain wasn’t working overtime to try and catch up.

“Yes, you said you’d broken up with a boyfriend. Your father and I realized we hadn’t actually met the last person you dated and we just assumed, since you only mention Mingyu. Well, you said he was like your best friend and we knew it wasn’t Seungkwan. Mingyu only made sense,,” your mother says with a shrug.

“Mingyu! What are you doing here?” your father asks, rising from his seat to shake your best friend’s hand.

“Dating our daughter, apparently,” your mother says with a skeptical look.

“Oh, good! I’m glad you kids worked it out,” he says.

“Did…everyone just think I was dating…?” you start to ask, looking confusedly between your parents. “Mom, Dad, I was not dating Mingyu. We were only…”

“Friends?” your mother supplies through her heavy tone of disbelief.

“Yes,” you say, eyes wide and desperate looking to Mingyu for support.

“We really were just friends,” Mingyu says. “I mean, I guess not just friends. But, seeing her go through another heartbreak just made me realize that I didn’t want to see her go through something like that again. I guess it just made me realize how much I do care about her. So, I finally said something.”

There’s a lot that you can count on Mingyu for. Driving, having an endless supply of oversized hoodies to steal, a stocked kitchen, the best meals of your life, 2 am chats, support through break ups, hating the same people, being scared of his own shadow, a perpetual golden retriever energy, endless loyalty, and the list goes on. Something you never expect to count on Mingyu for, though? The lie that spills so easily from his lips to try and get your parents off your case. Sure, he knows just how much you struggle with your relationship with them. This is different, though. The lie sounds so sincere and his face looks so soft when he glances over at you.

“You know, it’s okay if you just got back together,” your mother says, looking between the two of you.

“Oh my god, that’s not what happened!” you say, throwing your hands up.

“Of course, dear, of course,” your father says.

“I should go take our suitcases upstairs. Am I just in the normal guest room?” he asks.

It’s both a deflection from the conversation and a valid question all rolled into one. Whatever the case, it does work for long enough to have your mother refocus her attention on Mingyu to answer. That gives you at least a second to catch your breath. Bringing Mingyu was supposed to give you a break from your parents. And it will, you think, but it’s also bringing up a lot that you hadn’t planned on. You wonder what Seungkwan will say when you tell him about the reception. Probably that he told you so.

“Oh, no dear. We planned to have you stay in our daughter’s old room with her,” your mother says.

Great. Now you’re in an entirely new spiral because, what? She has you and Mingyu staying in the same room where there is only one bed? You can’t remember the last time she was this relaxed with a partner you brought home, which brings up even more questions. Has this really been the plan? Or is only the plan now because of how much they like him? Is this just another way for them to try and nudge you into marriage?

“But, mom…” you start to protest.

“We’ve got a full house with family, dear,” she says as an explanation.

“I know where it is, I’ll just take the stuff up,” Mingyu offers.

“I can help,” you say as a way to get out of this whole thing and to talk to your friend.

“Pretty sure I’m strong enough to get some luggage upstairs,” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

“Why don’t you go up with him anyway? Then you can freshen up before dinner,” your mother says with a poorly disguised look at your slightly wrinkled clothing.

Mingyu insists on carrying the bigger suitcases upstairs on his own, but you grab the smaller bags you had in the car with you. Well, except for his backpack that he also stubbornly carries. You don’t need a personal demonstration, you already know that he’s strong. You also don’t need to hear your mother talking about how nice it is to have such a polite young man around like he hasn’t been around a million times before. Once you’re inside the room and behind a closed door, you round on your friend.

“What the hell was that?” you ask.

“Your mom actually letting you and a boyfriend stay in the same room? I don’t know. It’s crazy, right?” he asks.

“Not that, what was with you?” you ask.

“What do you mean?” he returns, looking up from his suitcase where he had been getting ready to unpack.

“That whole answer you gave my mom,” you say and he looks almost pitying.

“I have to make it believable, don’t I?” he asks like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “Otherwise, she won’t buy it and she’s going to try to set you up.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you concede.

“Kind of wild that they thought we’d been dating, though,” he adds on.

“Yeah, what was that?” you ask with more force than you mean.

He only shrugs. “I don’t know, they’re your parents.”

“Seungkwan said the same thing,” you remind him.

“About people thinking we’re dating?” he asks, eyes back on his suitcase.

“Yeah,” you say.

He only chuckles before he looks up. “Come on, that’s not the first time either. How many of our friends have thought the same thing?”

“They’re just fucking with us,” you disagree.

“And my ex?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay, well in my defense, she was insane. The whole idea that people of the opposite sex can’t be friends is an insane take,” you say.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly upset to be rid of her,” he agrees.

“Come on. We better hurry up and get back downstairs,” you say.

The rest of the day is somehow just as weird, but also comforting. As the rest of the family starts arriving, either to stay or just for dinner, you find out that most of your family thinks you’ve been dating Mingyu. Or that it was him that you broke up with and are now back together with. It’s hard to tell if it’s something coming from your parents or just a general vibe that the two of you give off. You can at least acknowledge that you didn’t talk about your last relationship much with your family. Hindsight is always clearer, but you still think you knew something was off in that relationship the whole time. Knew that he wasn’t destined to go the distance. Maybe that’s why the break up didn’t hurt that bad. Honestly, the worst part was thinking of facing your family alone for Christmas.

Mingyu saves you from that as he’s saved you countless times before.

That brings you to the more comforting part of the evening. You can’t tell if any of your family members actually buy that this is a new relationship. At least, none of them seem to think it’s fake. You can probably put up with it if they just think you’re lying about when you actually got together. That makes it all feel much easier. Then, there’s the fact that your entire family loves Mingyu. It’s the first time you can remember joining the dinner to kick off the family Christmas festivities in years. Your family takes the holidays very seriously and it’s Mingyu’s first time experiencing it like this. Yet, he slots right in with everything.

It also feels like he’s thought through this whole fake relationship in ways you didn’t. Sure, you talked about some of the ins and outs since this isn’t just a quick overnight trip. But, mostly, you just decide it’s easiest to keep it as close to the truth as possible. The friendship is so deep that there’s genuine love there. You don’t have to fake that. What you did not consider is physical affection. You’re not the kind of person that drapes yourself all over a partner, never have been. There’s a moment where you worry, as you watch your cousin and her fiancé, that you and Mingyu could be found out for not showing enough affection.

A few minutes later, you’re wishing he would be less affectionate. And you’re not even sure why you worried. The first thing you really learned about Mingyu was that he was incredibly physically affectionate. Tight hugs, random hand holding, an arm around your shoulder, a hand on your arm or leg. It’s all just par for the course with him. It’s gotten even more obvious now that he’s pretending to date you. It seems so innocuous, too. He’s got his hand on your thigh, giving the occasional squeeze, while he’s talking to someone else. He randomly plants a kiss on your temple. He leans over to whisper something to you on the pretense of being close and usually it’s nothing. You don’t even realize that it has most of your family giving each other knowing looks. Like they’re still not convinced you hadn’t been dating before.

By the time it’s late enough to go upstairs, you’re more than ready to have time away from your family. Every time you think that you’re social, your family is there to humble you. Or maybe it’s just that being around them is too draining. In any case, you and Mingyu head upstairs together. Thankfully, your parents house is big enough that it feels like there’s a little bit of privacy in your old bedroom.

“So, how’s this going to work?” Mingyu asks, glancing at the bed and then into the attached bathroom.

Okay, so maybe, even with how big the house is, you haven’t fully considered everything. You’re not really sure what to do. It shouldn’t be weird. You and Mingyu have shared a bed before. This just somehow feels intimate when your entire family thinks you’re sharing because you’re in a relationship and don’t know this is all pretend so you can have a little bit of peace for the holidays. Your gift to yourself. Shaking it all off, you turn to Mingyu.

“I mean, we’ve shared before. It’ll be fine,” you say.

“So are we not gonna talk about the last time we shared?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

Racking your brain, you can’t really think of anything that would make him say that. Had something awkward happened? Did one of you do something that you should really remember? Just as you’re about to go into a full blown spiral, you feel Mingyu appear before you. He reaches out to smooth out the line between your eyebrows.

“Don’t hurt yourself there,” he says with a laugh. “You whined about me taking up too much space.”

“Oh my god,” you say and swat at him. “It was a tiny bed and you took up the entire thing! You can’t do this to me when I’m already wound tight over my family.”

“Sorry,” he says and throws up his hands. The sparkle in his eyes says that he’s anything but.

“I’m going to change and then start my skincare routine,” you say as you move to grab something to wear to bed.

Without even asking if you’re dressed, Mingyu comes into the bathroom to start doing his own skincare routine while you’re in there. He’s already changed into a t-shirt and shorts, which you know is more than he normally wears to bed. It’s somehow peaceful to go through your routines in silence like this. You consider that it might be in part because it forces him to be quiet. Not that you usually mind his chatter, it’s just that your brain is already tired from one night dealing with your family. You can’t imagine how the rest of the days are going to go and are thankful for the downtime when you’ll be able to get out of the house to do things.

Once you’re back in the bedroom, you both finish off all the little things you need to do. You plug in your phone after checking for any important notifications, grab the TV remote to fling it over to Mingyu, and slide under the covers. Usually you just kind of scroll before going to sleep or sometimes you’ll read. But, you think it might be weird to do those things when you’re sharing a bed with someone else.

“Do I need to make a pillow wall or something?” he asks as he’s flipping through to find something to watch.

Your head whips to the side to look at him. Even though it’s only his profile, you can see that he’s smirking. Purposefully not looking at you because he knows it’ll break the little composure he has. To deal with that, you whack him with a pillow.

“Just don’t drape your entire body over me,” you say.

“Why?” he asks and does turn to look at you now, wiggling his eyebrows. “Afraid it’ll be too close?”

“No, you fucking goober, you’re just heavy,” you say through a genuine laugh.

“How is this relationship ever going to work if we’re calling each other names?” he says, pretending to be heartbroken.

“Same way it has for like 8 years,” you joke back with a soft smile.

“Are you saying you love me?” he asks, hand on his heart. This is one of your favorite things about your friendship with Mingyu because he’s so dramatic that it takes your mind off everything else.

“I don’t know, I’m rethinking it,” you say and turn back to the TV.

“I love you too, you know,” he says, voice soft enough to make you turn back to him.

“I know, Gyu. I don’t think anyone else would put themselves through this for me, so thank you,” you say honestly.

He just shrugs and goes back to a lighter place. “Well, I didn’t have good holiday plans and who can say no to this level of entertainment?”

The next day actually gives you time to catch up with some of your family members more personally instead of everything being such big conversations. That’s especially true for your cousin, Mimi, who’s only two years younger than you and has always been your favorite of your cousins. Even if you go months without seeing each other, it always feels like no time passes. There’s just a level of closeness and understanding between the two of you. You can complain about your mothers since they’re sisters and honestly the same person, just in a different font. It’s easy to be on the same page about things as well.

You’re actually a little surprised to see that she’s here alone, even though you know she recently got out of a bad relationship. Somehow, it seems her mom is more understanding than your own. She was also much more honest about how the relationship fell apart after 3 years and her mom is sympathetic about it. When she says it like that, you understand. Your last few relationships have all been measured in months rather than years.

“You’re not, like, actually dating Mingyu though, are you?” she asks quietly when it’s just the two of you.

“Mimi,” you hiss and look around.

“We’re alone,” she assures you with a wave of her hand. “So, spill.”

“No,” you say hesitantly. “Why?”

“I’m just curious,” she says unconvincingly.

“He was with me when my mom was bugging me about the holidays and bringing someone with me. Then she was going to set me up, so he just offered…” you start.

“He was the one who suggested it?” she asks, far more curious than she should be.

“Yeah,” you say simply. “Again, why?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve just always thought he was cute and I was wondering if he’s actually single.”

“You cannot hit on Mingyu,” you whisper through gritted teeth. She gives you a look you can’t place before brushing it off.

“Oh, I’m not saying I would. It’s just good to know I could,” she says.

“You can’t,” you remind her. “Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t do it anywhere anyone else could see,” she teases.

Of course, another of our cousins picks that moment to join you, so you can’t further chastise Mimi. It irritates you all the same though. How does she think it’s just fine to do something like that when you’re supposed to be in a fake relationship? Could she not just wait to hit on him until the rest of your family wasn’t watching with too much attention?

Normally, Mimi is a respite from the rest of your family. She’s one of the few people that you’re always completely honest with. Now, she’s taken that away. You try to go about the rest of the day with her knowing that the relationship is fake and she seems like she’s trying her best to get under your skin. Every part of you wants to stop her from chatting so much to Mingyu and you can’t. It would seem weird when everyone knows that you and your cousin are close. Weirder still when she always knows Mingyu relatively well from every other time he’s been to some family event.

When you excuse yourself up to your bedroom for a second away from your parents and their incessant hint dropping, Mingyu slips into the room just after you. Which is odd, considering you had not even seen him also slip away. The second odd thing comes when you look at his face. He looks more serious than usual, more tired. It doesn’t fully make sense because he’s incredibly social. Loves to be around people in the way all true extroverts do. Something must be wrong.

“Can I talk to you?” he asks after closing the door.

“You don’t ever have to ask,” you say with clear apprehension.

“Did you tell Mimi we weren’t actually dating?” he asks, still looking at you in a way you can’t place.

You exhale, thinking it’ll be nothing. “Oh, that, yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mention it to you, I just…”

“Did you also tell her that I’m very single and she should go ahead and shoot her shot?” he asks and you stop short hearing that.

“I - what?” you ask.

“She just kind of cornered me and was laying it on super thick, but she said it was fine because she knows we’re not really dating and that you’d encouraged her to…” he starts and you immediately cut him off.

“What the actual fuck, Mimi?” you say in frustration.

“I mean, if you want me to…” he tries to start again, looking a little like a lost or kicked puppy. It makes you immediately close the space between you and him.

“Gyu, no. I did tell her that we weren’t actually dating, but I absolutely did not tell her it was okay to do any of that, let alone encourage it,” you say.

“So you don’t want me to flirt back?” he asks. He’s still looking Too Serious when he says it and you’re not really sure how to feel.

“Since we’re supposed to be dating, I’d prefer you didn’t. But, if you think she’s pretty it’s not like I can stop you,” you say noncommittally.

“Of course I think she’s pretty. You and your whole family are pretty. It’s like something in a TV show or some shit,” he says and this is a Mingyu you recognize because he’s rolling his eyes.

“Oh yeah, says the guy who looks like that,” you say and vaguely gesture at him.

“I…did you just compliment me?” he asks, totally off track from wherever he was going.

“That depends, did you compliment me first?” you deflect.

“You’re such a shithead,” he grumbles and you tsk at him.

“Now, now sweetheart, should we really be name calling?” you tease.

He fixes you with his attempt at an unimpressed stare, but he’s nowhere near as good at it as you are. Like every other time, he relents first. “I’ve probably told you how beautiful you are hundreds of times in our friendship.”

“Which I’ve always returned,” you lie.

“Be so for real. I have to pull most compliments out of you,” he says through a snort. When you open your mouth to protest, he cuts you off. “Most compliments that are not about my cooking, I should say.”

“People fall all over you,” you say with a good natured eye roll of your own. “Do you really need to hear me also say you could easily be a model?”

“Doesn’t hurt,” he mumbles through a pout.

“Oh, beautiful Mingyu,” you start, taking on the silliest voice you can muster. “You’re so pretty that I could cry. Your face breaks hearts every day, your smile lights up the room, your hair…”

“Okay, okay, enough,” he says even though he looks pleased.

“I cannot believe Mimi, though,” you say.

“I’m glad you’re not trying to push us together,” he admits.

“Why? Not interested?” you tease.

He answers seriously, though. “No. She’s pretty, sure, but no, I’m definitely not interested, even if I wasn’t pretending to date you.”

That honest answer strikes something in you. Not that honesty is unusual between the two of you. It just feels like there’s also an element of vulnerability in the response as well. Like he’s saying something that you just can’t quite decipher. You just brush aside for now, though, since there’s nothing else you really can do.

Mingyu, as it turns out, has one winter time tradition that he’s always wanted to try and never had the chance to do: sledding. He’s never lived in any place where it’s snowy enough or there’s enough free space. But, up here in the relative mountains where your parents live, sledding is a way of life. It’s something you’ve done countless times growing up with friends or family. Part of you is even a little thankful that he wants to do it, too. It’s been years since you’ve gone sledding and getting to see his face when you go for the first time feels special. Feels like something that’s just for you.

Which is why you’re up before the sun.

Last night, when you talked about sledding and getting an early start, Mingyu was on board. Now that it’s time to actually get up, you can see it written all over his face that he’s regretting every decision that’s ever led him to this moment. Like the true best friend that he is, though, he’s keeping the actual grumbling to a minimum. You’re not sure why you’re not also grumbling. You’re not a morning person. But, you’ve never gone sledding at sunrise either and something about it just seems like it’ll be magical. Like it really will make it an entirely new experience for you and him to share.

The house is quiet as you grab the bag of snow pants and winter jackets that you packed the night before from the closet in the entryway. Everything feels so peaceful in the house and just as still when you leave. Like even the soft sound of the door is too much while the whole world sleeps. You can hear the slight crunch under your feet as you trudge over to Mingyu’s car and take care not to be too loud getting in. Thank him again for driving when you know it’s way earlier than he wants to be awake. All he does is smile like there’s nowhere else in the world he would rather be.

The drive to the hill where you’re going to sled is quick and also tranquil. Even the music is soft like Mingyu is afraid of disrupting the peace. Or maybe you’re both just appreciating something different than the normal bustle of life in a city. It’s never this kind of quiet there and there’s something kind of beautiful about it. Even the parking lot is empty when you get to the small hill that you used to sled down as a kid. You’ve never seen it empty before. Then again, you’ve never been before the sun rose, either. Mingyu takes care to unload the sleds before you both bundle up. It’s not terribly cold, but you make him put on the waterproof gear anyway.

He stops at the bottom of the hill and looks towards the top. “We’re going all the way up there?”

You can hear a little bit of nerves in his voice. Mingyu has never been a fan of heights. This isn’t that high, though, and you nudge him playfully. Well, it doesn’t seem high to you. “I think you can manage. Come on.”

Climbing up to the top is always your least favorite part because it uses the most energy. Not that you mind the activity, it’s just a lot of work for a relatively short ride back down the hill on the sled. At least this hill has stairs built into the slope off to the side to help you. Once you’re at the top, you plop down with Mingyu right beside you. It’s less about catching your breath and more about appreciating the view. It seems like you can see for miles even though you’re not that high up. The sun starts to rise and you know it’s all worth it. All the shades of orange and pink stretch across the horizon as the sun makes its way over the distant mountains. There aren’t any words that come to mind to really capture how beautiful it is. The colors are more vibrant against the white of the snow all around you. Everything feels magnified in the quiet space. All either of you can do is utter out a soft wow to express your awe.

And then the quiet really is broken.

“Okay you expect me to slide down that on a piece of plastic?” he asks with a hint of panic in his voice.

You follow his gaze and look down the hill, because it really is only a hill. Not anything crazy. It always looks a little more intimidating from the top, but it isn’t anything all that high.

“Oh come on you giant baby,” you tease and nudge him. “We got all the way up here, how else are you going to get down?”

“Walk back down the stairs they so nicely provided?” he offers.

“That’s crazy,” you say.

“I’m afraid of heights!” he shouts, more panic in his voice.

“I know, Gyu,” you say, instantly softening as you approach him to put your hand on his arm.

“I didn’t really think this through,” he admits.

“Why did you agree to sledding down a hill?” you ask, genuinely curious.

He’s quiet for a moment as he looks out over vista before him. You watch as a calm comes back over him. The kind of calm that can only come from a setting as pretty as this one. Watch him take a couple steadying breaths. Even though you’ve been friends with Mingyu for years, you’ve never really seen his fear of heights firsthand. Couldn’t have imagined it would kick in for something as seemingly innocuous as a small sledding hill. Though, admittedly, it is a pretty decent size. It’s definitely not just the kind of hill people sled down in their backyards or local parks.

“Because I wanted to try sledding and do something new. And this hill seemed important to you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m not going to say no to something you ask me to do when you get that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” you ask to avoid considering a deeper meaning to his words.

“I don’t know. You get all starry eyed,” he says with a shrug.

“How about this? We can go down together and check it off the list. You don’t have to sled again,” you offer.

“We came all the way out here,” he says, unsure.

“And I got to see the prettiest sunrise of my life with my best friend beside me,” you say easily.

“Okay, okay. I can at least try,” he says.

You get up and send the smaller of the sleds down the hill without anyone on it in case you really only take the one ride. It would be a hassle to have to come back up and get it. Then, you position yourself on the bigger sled that’s meant for two people (or three kids sometimes when you were younger). Once you’re in place, you motion for Mingyu to settle in behind you. Point out where he can put his legs on either side of you, which already feels closer than normal even with how affectionate Mingyu can be. You adjust so that your back is pressed against his chest. It’s about the right balance to the sled so that you’re less likely to topple over on the way down. Mingyu has to crowd into your space to wrap his arms around your middle because he’s bigger than you are, something you hadn’t considered when suggesting this. You can almost tell that he’s considering burying his face in your hair, but stops short.

At least, until you push over the edge with a combination of wiggling and using your hands to push your forward. That’s when he buries his face. Then, you’re slowly picking up speed as you slide down the completely untouched snow. It’s always best like this, in your opinion. Before there are lanes carved into the snow. Yes, those lanes pack the snow down and can make you go faster, but you can also catch an edge and topple over more easily.

None of that is really on your mind once you start descending though. All you can think of is the way Mingyu’s body feels pressed against yours. How it’s very foreign but also very comforting. How you can understand why your whole family so easily believes that you’re together. The comfort is effortless, something you don’t ever think about. It just exists. You focus on how funny it is to have this giant of a man wrapped around you like a koala with his head buried in your hair now because he’s nervous. You don’t even consider any other way that it might make you feel. When you let out a squeal of delight as the sled picks up more speed, you feel, rather than hear, him grumble by the tickle of his breath in your hair. It only makes him cling more tightly to you.

It’s almost disappointing when you feel the sled level out at the bottom of the hill and slow down. It’s been the perfect way to relive one of the parts of your childhood that you loved the most. Getting to do silly little things like this really was one of the best parts of winter. You’re fully stopped before you realize that Mingyu is still clinging to you with everything he has. So, you carefully place a hand over his and feel him untense the tiniest bit.

“It’s okay, we made it to the bottom in one piece.”

Slowly, he loosens his grip on you and actually looks up. Again, you feel this rather than seeing it. You feel the absence of his body heat and only then realize just how tightly he was clinging to you. Mingyu pulls his face out of your hair and seems to look around, as if testing that you’re really at the bottom of the hill. Like he’s not sure it’s over that quickly.

“That wasn’t so bad.”

“No, it was a lot of fun.”

“Do you think…could we maybe go again?”

Both of you are standing up again now and it makes you whip your head around to look at him because you can’t believe this scaredy cat actually wants to go down again after how much it took to get him down the first time. His face is hopeful, though, and you’re not about to start saying no to that face now. Not when you never have before. So you match his smile.

“On one condition,” you finally say. Mingyu only looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue. “You have to actually keep your eyes open this time.”

“You don’t know I had my eyes closed,” he insists with a pout.

“Gyu, your face was in my hair,” you say through a laugh.

“Okay, fine. Eyes open. But, I have my own condition, too,” he fires back, still kind of pouting.

“Yes?”

“I want to ride together again.”

It’s easy to agree to that. Even though you don’t say it out loud, it’s kind of fun riding with him, especially when the hill is so untouched. He’s tall and muscular, very helpful when it comes to carving a path and also picking up speed. He adds to the momentum and you like going faster. You don’t consider telling him that he wouldn’t go quite as fast without you because you would be losing on as well. It’s not a bad deal for either of you, really. Mingyu gets to work a little on a fear of heights on something much more manageable and you get to live out your best sled dreams.

Each run gets a little bit easier. Mingyu holds up his end of the bargain and actually opens his eyes, which is more entertaining to you than it probably should be as he curses all the way down that first run. But, he keeps wanting to go and you’re not going to stop him. Don’t realize that maybe he also keeps going because he loves to see the way your face lights up each run. Neither of you makes an effort to get the other sled again either.

By the time the sun is fully risen, yours and Mingyu’s cheeks are rosy from the cold. And also from the way you’ve taken to running back up the steps to the top like kids. You have to admit, even if it means he’ll get a big head, this is the most fun you’ve had in your hometown during the holidays in a long time. Honestly, it might actually be the most fun you’ve had anywhere in a while. It’s nice to get back to something simpler without worrying about anything else. Life can get busy back in the city between work and chores and endless responsibility. Sometimes it’s nice to just take a break from it all. Remember that there are more important things than just working all the time or being stressed about things you can’t really control. Maybe there’s something to simplifying life a bit.

Now that the sun is rising, it’s a more acceptable time for people to be out and about themselves. Kids can convince their parents to take them sledding as well. At the first sign of people approaching, you and Mingyu agree that it should be your last run. You’re starting to get a little tired and you know it’ll get loud. You don’t mind having the kids around, you just know it gets harder to avoid everyone and you have to wait longer between each run. Besides, you planned something post sledding as well. It catches you off guard that he actually seems a little sad to be leaving.

That is, until you take him to this little hole in the wall of a breakfast place. It’s something new because you’re not usually in this area when he comes with you to family events. Not that it’s far, it’s just a few towns over and there are closer places. Until winter comes around again and the elderly couple that runs the place roll out their secret recipe for hot cocoa. Honestly, you could probably just drink that without even ordering anything to eat and be the happiest person in the world. The food is amazing too, though, and you didn’t eat before leaving to go sledding. You and Mingyu order a few things to share and laugh all the way through it, talking about sledding and the trip so far.

“Thanks for this,” he says as breakfast is winding up.

You’re a little surprised at both his words and the gentleness of his tone. “For what?”

“Taking me sledding like this. That sunrise was amazing and I, well, I guess I didn’t think I’d have as much fun as I did,” he admits, a little more shy than you’re used to.

“I’m glad you trusted me,” you say and can’t quite place the look he gives you.

“I think I’d trust you with just about anything.”

The day before Christmas is always the same. By then, you’re in desperate need of a break from your family and you think they may be in need of a break from you as well. So, each year you get together with Seungkwan and some of your other friends that still live in the area. Anyone with a partner brings them along and you have a nice, boozy brunch. This year, Seungkwan is hosting because his place is spacious and the group seems a little bigger. It’s also nice to get to really spend some time at his place since he’s only been there a few months.

Typically, a few people in the friend group will bring over some pre-made things to warm up the next day as well as everyone bringing whatever they want to drink and share. That’s the same for this year with a slight change. Mingyu, once he sees the kitchen, says that he just has to make some food as well. After taking an inventory, he heads back out to buy more things that he needs, ignoring any of your protests and only agreeing to take your card so you can sort out the cost with your friends. (You’re not going to do that because you don’t mind just covering it, but you don’t want him to cover it either.)

When he gets back, he immediately goes into the kitchen and your friend Vernon’s girlfriend offers to help. She drags Seungkwan’s sister, who doesn’t usually come around, with her as well. Mingyu only leaves the kitchen long enough to bring you one of the mimosas that he made, insisting there’s a special ingredient. Then, it’s back to fully focusing on the food. Not that you really mind. It’s nice to just be in a low stress environment with your friends to catch up, have some drinks, and laugh a lot.

Vernon, after looking around to make sure nobody else is listening, shows you and Seungkwan the ring he’s been walking around with for the past few weeks. Apparently, he’s finally settled that he’s going to propose to his girlfriend tomorrow on Christmas Day. You’re thrilled because they’ve been together forever and she already feels like family. Seungkwan nearly bursts into tears, which you have to quickly cover so nobody realizes what’s happening. You love that your best friend is like that. It’s just not the time if you want to keep it a secret that Vernon wants to propose.

It also feels nice to be in a group where you don’t have to pretend. Nothing changes all that much for how you and Mingyu are together because he’s always affectionate with you. But, you get to trade any of the not-so-subtle comments about when you’re going to get married to the relentless teasing about how he passes as your boyfriend so easily. It’s nice to have someone joking about it and you find you don’t even mind. Especially when Mingyu chimes in with his own little comments from the kitchen. There seems like there’s a lot of laughter in there as well.

“You’re going to have to dress him better if he’s going to keep posing as your boyfriend,” Seungkwan jokes and you look over at the kitchen.

Mingyu is wearing this kind of awful green zip up sweater. It’s not even that nice, soft material. But, he insisted on wearing it because he wanted to wear something with Christmas colors and it was the only thing he had apart from his outfit for tomorrow. It makes you roll your eyes again remembering it.

“I know,” you sigh. “Usually he dresses so well and then there’s that.”

Your eyes drift back over to him in the kitchen again and you kind of wish you hadn’t looked back. You catch him as something falls off a spoon he’s using to taste test and onto his skin. And, without seeming to think about it, he sucks it off his hand. Then, licks along his finger for good measure. It makes your heart stutter a little in a way that’s completely foreign to you. Why are you so entirely transfixed by someone who’s supposed to be your best friend and fake boyfriend doing that?

“Hey, you good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping in front of your eyes.

You shake your head to clear it before turning back to him. “Yeah, sorry, zoned out for a second.”

“Uh huh,” he says skeptically, but you catch his eyes darting over to Mingyu.

“Don’t,” you warn him, causing him to throw his hands up in defense.

“I won’t,” he says. “But, if you decide you want to talk about it…”

“Talk about what?” Mingyu asks. You hadn’t even seen him leave the kitchen.

“The issue she’s having with Mimi,” Seungkwan lies quickly.

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “She won’t leave me alone.”

“And that seems to be driving both of you crazy,” Seungkwan observes.

“Well, yeah, our bestie is just being a good friend and she knows I’m uncomfortable,” Mingyu says before you can answer. Is that all it is? For the first time, you’re not sure.

“I’m not sure how I feel about sharing a best friend,” Seungkwan says with feigned distaste.

Mingyu tries to give The Look again, but fails even worse than with you. Nobody can outdo Seungkwan and so he gives up. “Food is ready.”

“Oh good, I’m starving,” Vernon interrupts.

The rest of brunch goes by without Seungkwan making any other comments. To you, at least. You don’t see him sit down next to Mingyu after the food is done like it’s casual and unplanned. Nothing that man ever does is either of those things, though. What you do notice is how easily he fits into this group of friends. Sure, he knows Seungkwan pretty well and he’s met nearly everyone there. But, he doesn’t get to spend much time around them. Not really, in the grand scheme of things. It isn’t really surprising, if you think about it, because they’re all close friends of yours and he tends to think you have good taste where friends are concerned.

It is a little weird, you think as Mingyu sits on the other side of the room, that he seems to be a little glued to his phone now that things are getting closer to wrapping up. He checks it mid conversation and furrows his brow at whatever he sees. Both seem unusual. Mingyu is always one of those people that gives his full attention to a conversation. Unless it’s an emergency, he likes to be present in a moment. It’s one of your favorite things about him. It’s also unlike him to be so upset by something on his phone. You can’t think of any person that would be creating that reaction from him. Or anyone that he wouldn’t just ignore until later. You try to put it out of your mind as best you can. If it’s something serious, he’ll talk to you about it. At least, you hope.

Any other time, you would be thrilled to have your favorite cousin staying at your parents’ house for the holidays. She’s always been your confidant and one of your safe spaces. Now? You can’t stand it. You really wish she would be literally anywhere else. Just the sight of her is getting to be enough to set you off. It seems like she’s really taking it to heart that Mingyu is single. You’re not sure what her game is and you hate it.

Of course, she manages to corner you the second you’re back to your parents’ house. You’re not exactly paying all that much attention, though. The end of brunch with your friends had been a little weird, even if nobody else noticed it. Mingyu accepted all the praise for the things he made, but was distracted by his phone. Someone, you’re not really sure who, kept sending him messages. Whatever it was didn’t seem to be making him happy. Not that you really have any right to ask him who’s blowing up his phone. It’s just a little weird. Usually he’s so present in events like brunch. It’s odd to see him constantly checking his phone. Odder still that he had headed off to the bedroom as soon as you got back. You’re a little buzzed from the mimosas. Mingyu, on the other hand, is very sober.

“There you are,” Mimi says, appearing as if out of thin air. It makes you jump back, hand on your heart.

“Jesus,” you gasp out.

“No, Mimi,” she jokes. Any other time, it would make you laugh. You’re not so entertained with her now.

“What are you sneaking up on me for?” you ask instead.

She rolls her eyes and looks around. “I’m not sneaking up on you. I was just trying to catch you away from the others.”

“Why?”

“Why do you have that fake boyfriend of yours on such a tight leash?”

Out of habit, you look around to make sure nobody is listening. Everyone seems too busy, though. “I don’t have Mingyu on a leash.”

“Then explain why he’s basically refusing to answer any of my texts,” she says, arms crossed.

“I don’t know why…wait a minute. Was it you texting him while we were at brunch?” you ask.

This, somehow, seems to satisfy her. “Oh, so he’s not telling you who’s texting him.”

“I didn’t ask, honestly.”

“Well, I don’t see why he’d be ignoring - “

Your brain catches up then. “Hang on. How the fuck did you get his number?”

Mimi rolls her eyes again with a huff. “Please. You’ve had the same passcode on your phone for ages. I just grabbed it when you left your phone out.”

“That’s so fucked, Mimi. You can’t just go through my phone or take his number,” you say.

“You’re no fun anymore,” she says with a whine.

You’re not interested in hearing anything else she has to say because you just want to talk to Mingyu. This is getting insane that she’s going to this amount of trouble just to try to get to him. Yet, it’s also weird he kept it to himself that she was texting him. The two of you have talked a lot about the shit Mimi pulls in order to get close to him. Why is it different now that she’s texting him while he’s out with your friends? Is he starting to get worn out from dealing with the insanity of your family? Every other time he’s been around, it’s been really chill. This time, not so much.

Up in your room, you don’t initially see Mingyu. You’re not sure what you’re expecting. Maybe him on his phone texting or else complaining to another friend about how this whole trip is going. Or even talking to his sister about getting out to see her instead of staying here. None of that happens, though. Instead, you find him in the bathroom applying a face mask. It’s a little ridiculous and definitely the last thing you expect. But, you also know that it’s a sign he’s carrying some amount of stress.

That’s the thing about being as close to someone as you are to Mingyu. To most people, he’s got this unfailing streak of energy and kindness. He’s the kind of person that lets himself be bullied by all his friends even though he could definitely take them. It’s all part of making sure everyone is enjoying themselves and most things just roll off his broad shoulders. There are hidden depths to him, too. Sometimes he gets a little worn out because he’ll keep things to himself instead of burdening someone else. He takes so much onto his own plate and you wish he wouldn’t. At least, not always. He’ll go until it feels a little unbearable and then finally speak up. He’ll force a smile even when he doesn’t feel like it just to make sure nobody else realizes anything is wrong. In a way, he folds in on himself a little. But, you’ve been friends for years so you know his tells. Know how to spot the signs. It takes you a little longer this time surrounded by family and some friends. This is one of those signs, though. Taking the time to do a face mask, even if it’s in the middle of the day, to just give him an excuse to be quiet.

You’re not usually the one to initiate physical contact with him. Not because you don’t want to, he just never really gives you the chance. He’s like a human koala most of the time. With his back to the door and his eyes closed to enjoy the feeling of the mask, he doesn’t even hear you approach. Your hands wind around his waist, hugging him tightly from the back and your head rests between his shoulder blades. For the briefest moment, he tenses and you worry that he’s using this as a break from you. Then, he realizes it’s just you and his entire body relaxes. He puts his hands over yours and sighs softly. After a moment, it doesn’t seem like it’s enough because he turns in your arms and pulls you tight against his chest, wrapping you so tightly in his own arms that you would complain in any other situation. Not now, though. Not when he’s putting himself through all of this just so you don’t have to have a stressful holiday experience.

When it’s like this, you don’t dream of pulling away from Mingyu. There’s so much that he does for you and it’s so rare that you can do anything for him in return. So, you’ll stay tightly pressed against him as long as he wants. You won’t be the one to break the hug first. If you can take even a little bit of whatever he’s feeling onto your own shoulders, you will. This trip has been so much better than you could have expected in most ways and you’re determined to be more conscious of his needs. Eventually, he does pull away and let you look up into his face. He looks much more at peace than you expect. Maybe your hugs do have healing powers like he always says. Mingyu turns to remove the face mask and wipe his face before turning back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly into the space between you.

“For what?” he asks.

“For the whole drama that is my family,” you start. “Mostly, for Mimi, though.”

“Ah,” he says and his face falls a little.

“Gyu, I would never have put you in this position if I had known she would be like this,” you say earnestly.

“I don’t think anyone could have guessed she’d pull all this,” he says with a humorless laugh.

“You should’ve told me that she was texting you and bugging you like that,” you say without any accusation. You just want to be able to share in his burden.

He only shrugs. “We were with your friends and you looked so happy. I didn’t want to bring it down. How did you even find out she was texting me?”

“She told me,” you say with an eye roll.

“Really?”

“Well, she cornered me and asked why I had you on such a tight leash…”

“Kinky,” he interrupts and it nearly makes you choke.

“And then, when I asked how she even got your number, she told me she’d gone into my phone and taken it,” you say to avoid thinking too deeply about Mingyu and any kinks he might have.

“Bold,” he observes.

“Do you like that?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

The second the question comes out of your mouth, you wish you could take it back. What is going on with your brain today? First you’re losing your train of thought watching Mingyu lick something off his finger. Then, you’re wondering about his kinks. Now, you’re wondering if he likes someone that’s a little bit bold. It’s got to just be the atmosphere that you’re in. Or that you’re pretending to date him. It’s messing with your mind and you’re not responsible for the way you act.

The worst part is that Mingyu’s entire face changes. He gets that knowing look on his face when he meets your eyes. A little cocky. The look that says he knows just how attractive he can be. It’s not usually directed at you and you’re not really sure what to do now that it is.

“Sometimes,” he says. “Not necessarily from someone I’m not actually interested in, though.”

“Good to know.”

Mingyu arches an eyebrow and okay, that’s devastating. Maybe you’re still a little under the influence of the mimosas. There’s no other explanation for the way your knees go a little weak at such a simple movement. “Is it?”

“Huh?” you ask, shaking your head to clear it.

“You said it was good to know and I asked if it was,” he repeats, smirk only deepening.

“Oh, sure,” you say and he seems momentarily surprised. “You know, so I can tell Mimi.”

You’re actually not entirely sure what makes you say it. It’s not like you would ever want him to consider Mimi. It might actually drive you crazy if he went for her. He gets that look on his face that you’re all too familiar with. Affection mixed with exasperation. Nobody seems to get it more than you.

“Too bad for her that I’m very much not interested,” he says.

“Shame. I don’t know how I would get over the loss.”

“Luckily you don’t have to because you’re stuck with me.”

“Until you actually have a crush on someone again.”

Even though you say it, you want to take it back as soon as it comes out of your mouth. Images come rushing into your mind of Mingyu falling in love with someone that actually lasts. Someone that could take your best friend away from you. Which should be what you want, right? You should want him to be happy. And you do. You just can’t really stand the thought of a life where he’s happy without you being right there by his side. This trip makes you think about a lot more than you bargained for.

“I do have a crush,” he says softly.

“Oh, of course,” you say and look away from him. That’s fine. This is all fine.

His finger is under your chin the next second to pull your face back around to his. It’s the look of patience that you also see a lot. Especially when he’s trying to teach you something in the kitchen. Or explain something from work. Or really just talk about anything he’s passionate about.

“The crush is on you, dummy,” he says softly.

“What?” you ask, not sure you heard him correctly.

With a shake of his head, he steps back to lean against the bathroom. “Of all the times I pictured telling you this, I never considered telling you in the bathroom attached to your old bedroom at your parents’ house.”

“We don’t…” you start and he shakes his head again.

“No, this probably fits,” he says with a light laugh. The kind when he’s just a little caught off guard himself. “I thought I wanted to tell you after brunch with your friends and, I don’t know, I could be misreading the whole thing, but I think you’re ready to hear it now too. I like you. I’ve been more than happy just to be your friend because I didn’t want to say something before we were both ready. I’m happy to be here as your friend that’s only pretending to date you because I’d do anything to make life easier for you.”

“Mingyu,” you say, so low it’s barely above a whisper. Like you’re afraid to break the quiet in the limited space between you.

“You don’t have to say…” he starts, only to be interrupted by a loud knock at your bedroom door.

Your senses are entirely overwhelmed and you wonder what he sees as you look up at him, eyes wide in wonder. Before this, you would say that your brain could process too many things all at the same time. That it always had a million things going on. Now, you can’t seem to do any of that. Can’t focus on anything other than your beautiful best friend before you and the fact that apparently he has feelings for you. You see his mouth move, assume it’s to answer the knock, and have to shake yourself back to reality. Need to come out of this day dream so that you can react to whoever is at the door.

“Too bad, lovebirds, you have to come downstairs. Attendance for games and cookie decorating is mandatory on Christmas Eve,” your cousin calls back.

“Mimi, just…” you start to call out to her and Mingyu shakes his head.

“We’ll be right down!” he cuts across you. He waits, seeming like he’s listening for the sound of Mimi walking away from the door. How he can hear anything over the pounding of your heart seems unthinkable. Somehow, he must hear something because he turns back to you with soft eyes and speaks in an even softer voice. “It’s okay, we can talk tonight after dinner or when we come to bed. There’s no pressure for you to even say anything. Our friendship is the most important thing in the world to me.”

With that, he gives you a quick peck on the top of the head. Something that’s immediately gentler than anything you’ve experienced with him during the entire course of your friendship. The smile he gives you as he steps around you to lead the way down to interact with your family has you go weak in the knees. Has he ever smiled at you like that before? Or is it a new smile? Once upon a time, you would have said that you had every facial expression of his memorized from years spent in each other’s company. Years spent sharing private jokes, going on adventures, complaining about work and family and everything in between. But maybe, you think, there are still things that you can learn about Mingyu. Maybe there are still things that you can learn from him as well.

When you don’t immediately follow after him, Mingyu turns around to grab your hand and pull you along with him. There’s something about the way he threads his fingers through yours and squeezes that makes your heart pound again before settling down. His touch is gentle, like it always is, and filled with complete care. You don’t notice the way he glances back at you every few steps. Not with concern, but with curiosity. He would have bet he knew your every facial expression and can’t fully place the way you look now. Somehow, even though he can’t completely tell what you’re thinking, he knows that he made the right decision. Knows it was time to tell you what’s been on his mind. Knows that, no matter what, he’s still going to have his best friend on the other side of this trip.

It’s chaos once you and Mingyu get downstairs, like it always is at your parents’ house on Christmas Eve. Though, this definitely seems a little busier than years past. You’re not sure why that is either, but everyone seems to want to join in on the traditions that your parents cling to. In any case, it’s a good thing for you because it lets you just blend into the group of people without your parents paying entirely too much attention to you. Mingyu uses your hand intertwined with his to pull you into him, the way he has countless other times on this trip, and presses a kiss to your temple. Then, he’s off into the kitchen, throwing a joke at your mom about how he’s here now and she doesn’t need to worry. He looks over his shoulder and winks at you as your mother puts him to work mixing ingredients. You honestly don’t even know how you react in response. It must be okay, though, because he smiles back at you.

You love to decorate the cookies and will happily help make them in other situations, but there are already too many cooks in the kitchen. Instead, you help to set up some of the card tables that your parents keep for times like these. It gives people the chance to figure out what they might want to play and who they want to join them. It really is a nice tradition, no matter how you feel about your parents. And since your mother usually spends more time on baking and decorating the cookies, she doesn’t notice if things get a little too competitive between you and the cousins. Or if your father eggs the rest of you on while he watches. She has her favorite parts and lets everyone else do whatever it is they want to do. As long as everyone takes a break to help with decorating the cookies. Not that it’s ever a concern, that’s most people’s favorite part.

Once the tables are all set up, you settle into a board game with some of your cousins. Usually, you’re one of the more competitive ones. Board games come pretty easily to you and you pick up on the strategy quickly. If your cousins notice that you’re not nearly as invested this time, they let you have it. And they do notice it, pretty quickly, but let you have it. It’s easy to see you’re distracted and to see that you keep glancing into the kitchen at Mingyu. They just let you have it. It’s in their best interest, anyway. It’s nice to get the chance to win without you being fully committed to beating everyone around you.

This kind of setting really gives you a chance to think without shutting yourself away in your bedroom. That’s too obvious. You can’t just say that your best friend confessed feelings for you and now you need to figure out what your own feelings are. Not when he’s pretending to be your boyfriend already. Not when your whole family already thinks you’re lying about having just gotten together with him. And not when your mother would probably kill you if you missed out on traditions that may be older than you are.

All the spiralling in your brain is just cover, you realize, for the bigger picture. Mingyu likes you and he thinks this is the right time to have a conversation about it. He also knows that your friendship is the most important. You agree. He’s one of the most important people in your life, but is he more than that to you too? Is it possible that it’s more than friendship? That’s not something you ever considered. When you and Mingyu met in university it was through someone you were dating at the time. The relationship was, fortunately, very short lived. But the friendship with Mingyu, that was the stuff of stories. That instant connection that survived the breakup. The two of you always joke that your friendship was meant to be and that’s why it lasted when the relationship didn’t. Why others could come and go from your lives but you two are forever. Especially when either of you has dated someone that had an issue with the friendship. It’s insane to think that men and women can’t be friends. A completely archaic way of thinking.

That makes you think about your friendship with Seungkwan, though. Someone in your life who has also always been a constant. Someone who supports all your rights and your wrongs, even if he gives you a hard time too. And that’s when something else clicks. Your past partners haven’t objected to your friendship with Seungkwan nearly as often as your friendship with Mingyu. It’s not that he’s not attractive, because he definitely is. It can’t be that you’re not as close. Seungkwan has been with you through a lot. It could be that there's been more distance between you and him since you moved away, but you’re not sure that’s it either. He’s a constant in your life even from a distance. When you can’t see him, you regularly FaceTime him. So, no, he’s still present even if he’s not in the same city.

And then it hits you. You don’t watch Seungkwan lick something off his finger while he’s cooking. You don’t get jealous of your cousin hitting on him, regardless of what else is going on. You don’t seek out physical affection in the same way. Don’t find yourself looking over at Seungkwan for his reaction to everything going on around you. Don’t want to know his thoughts on something before you make each big decision. Seungkwan is your best friend and he means the world to you, but the thought of him constantly kissing you on the cheek or the temple or forehead or even the back of your hand doesn’t unleash butterflies in your stomach.

Holy shit. You’re in love with Mingyu. Definitely in way over your head with feelings that should have been obvious to you. It’s impossible to pinpoint when it might have happened or how. Maybe there isn’t a specific time. Maybe it’s something that happens slowly over time. You know that when you first became friends it was only that, a friendship. Someone that you could be yourself around and feel at home with in a very foreign environment. Somewhere along the way, it’s morphed into more. He really is the person you want to share all your news with, the person that you look to for support first. It’s so clear to you that your feelings are there now that he’s confessed and gotten you thinking about it. When you meet his eyes across the room, you wonder if he can see the realization on your face.

Now that you realize that you also have feelings for Mingyu, you’re not sure how you missed it before. If you consider the traits you’re looking for in a partner, he ticks off every box. And if you’re being completely honest, he’s been the reason for adding some traits to your list. So, not that you’ll admit this to any of your most recent exes, but maybe they had a point when they questioned your relationship with Mingyu. Not a big point. They still had shitty reasons for disliking Mingyu, but a small point nonetheless.

The rest of the evening seems to go by entirely too slowly, even if you do enjoy yourself. Much to the dismay of your cousins, you’re no longer distracted and you proceed to kick their asses at any game they suggest. You do go a little easier on them than normal, though, and avoid any of the trash talk. Thankfully Seungkwan isn’t there to point out that being in a good mood makes you soft. Even decorating the cookies is more fun than you can remember. You try not to think about whether that’s because Mingyu sits right next to you the whole time, trying to sabotage your cookie designs or make you laugh with his own. Spoiler alert: it absolutely is and you’re already down horrendous. It’s even easier to act like a cute couple in love now than it was before. And you also ignore the realization that it being so easy to pretend to be in a relationship with your best friend should have also been an indicator. Nobody ever said you were the most observant when it came to your own feelings.

Finally, you get a free moment to go upstairs. It’s time to get changed for Christmas Eve dinner and that gives you both the chance to excuse yourselves. The only person who seems to be tracking the movement with some amount of interest is Mimi. You’re too caught up in reaching out for Mingyu’s hand to notice, though. His smile at the action is immediately familiar and new. Familiar because you know his face better than your own and new because you didn’t expect to see him looking at you like that.

“I didn’t expect your mom to have me working so hard in the kitchen helping with the cookie dough,” he says once you close the door.

“Oh, I did,” you say through a snort.

“How was the - “

“You were right.”

You both go to speak at the same time and Mingyu’s mouth closes the second he realizes what you said. Whatever he wants to ask dies on his tongue over three words from your mouth. They might just be the second best three words you could say to him right then.

“About?” he prompts.

“It was the right time to tell me,” you confirm for him. It’s clear that he’s biting his tongue to let you say whatever you need to. Even if he knows by the look on your face. “I like you too.”

“Thank fucking god,” he says with an exhale. “When Seungkwan told me that I should tell you because he caught you watching me, I thought he was being a shit and…”

“Wait, what?” you ask. Fucking Seungkwan. Of course.

“Oh, yeah, at brunch earlier he said that he noticed you watching me while I was cooking and that if I liked you like he thought I did, that I should probably tell you,” he says a little sheepishly.

“You know what? Forget Seungkwan. I need to see something,” you say and close the space between you.

Before Mingyu can ask anything, you’re on your tiptoes, hands cupping his face and lips pressed to his. He wraps his arms around your lower back to pull you tighter against his body without missing a beat. And that really is all you need to know. Everything is in that first real kiss. Any lingering hesitations slip away. You can feel his promises and the answers to the questions you know you’ll have to actually ask in that kiss. For now, it just feels like coming home. Like you found the person that can get through all the bullshit and remind you about what’s actually important in life.

“Wow,” you say when you pull away.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“Is that what I’ve been missing out on?” you wonder.

“Just how long have you liked me?” he says with an all too knowing smirk.

“I only realized today so I’ve got some catch up to do,” you joke.

“We both do, I think,” he says.

Without having to say a word, both of you get ready for Christmas dinner since your mother insists that you get dressed up. Every few seconds one of you seems to catch the other looking. It feels exciting, but you’re also a little shy. There’s a lot to talk about and a lot to navigate. You know you can’t put it aside. It just doesn’t feel as time sensitive now. This is one of the most important people in your life and it’s going to work out. At least, if you can get through the whole drawn out affair that is dinner first.

Which you do. Through all your mother’s courses and all the formality that she insists on following, you have Mingyu by your side. You’re not even distracted by Mimi on the other side of the table. She can’t seem to take her eyes off you while you and Mingyu can’t take your eyes off each other. More than once, you entirely miss a question and Mingyu has to nudge you to prompt you. It’s not your fault, you reason. He’s just so insanely attractive and made all the more so because you know that he’s a genuinely wonderful person.

Every part of you wants to skip the after dinner drinks and go back upstairs with Mingyu, but he quietly insists that you should stay. Even laughs when you turn his signature pout back around on him. If he makes a good point that you have nothing but time, you still want to take advantage of some of that time right now. Instead, you sip on your rumchata and curl into Mingyu on the oversized armchair by the fire. Despite trying to leave a little bit of space, you’re basically sitting on his lap at his own insistence.

Once the first people start to call it a night, you look at Mingyu with nearly pleading eyes. That gets a light laugh out of him as he nods to agree that you can go upstairs to your bedroom. You say your goodnights to everyone in the room, wish people a Happy Christmas Eve, and lead the way back up to your room even though he doesn’t need the directions

It’s nice to have uninterrupted time to figure everything out with Mingyu now that your feelings are out in the open. And once you’re both changed and through your skincare routines, you get into bed just to talk. It’s remarkable how much can fall into place so easily. It’s obvious that he figured out his feelings first. You insist that yours are already just as strong. The two of you depend on each other in everything without realizing it. Turn to each other for support. Share in all the best news. Suffer through any heartbreak together. In the years of friendship, there’s something deeper than either of you ever expected.

Honestly, it’s not even something either of you just held onto or harbored for years. The feelings really came suddenly. Mingyu shares that he wasn’t just waiting around to tell you that he had feelings for you. He also shares, though you already know, that no part of him felt entitled to your returned feelings. Had Seungkwan not said something, he’s not even sure if or when he would have said something. The last thing he would ever want was to make you uncomfortable. As much as he cares about you and wants to explore the relationship, you’re also the best friend he’s ever had. You feel the same. It’s a little scary and exciting at the same time. You trust Mingyu with your heart in a way that you’ve never trusted anyone else.

It’s entirely too late into the night by the time you and Mingyu fall asleep. How the two of you have so much to say at this point in the friendship is something to be studied. But, eventually you drift off, completely intertwined with Mingyu. He’s been a cuddler this whole trip and you’re not sure how he’s gotten himself even more attached to you. Yet, he does. It’s like any space between you would be too much. It’s too much satisfaction to give him that he’s right. He can tell anyway.

When you wake up, it feels too early. A fact only confirmed when you check your phone. None of the little cousins or your cousins with kids are staying at your parents’ house. So, you know that it doesn’t have to be an early start to the morning. You consider if you can drift off back to sleep. In the night, you ended up with Mingyu spooning you. His arm is loosely draped over you and your back is pressed somewhat lightly into his chest. When you go to adjust to think about drifting back off, your ass brushes against his hips, you feel something press into you. That stops you for a moment. Obviously, you and Mingyu talked about sex the night before. About how you wanted to try to take it a little slower since this means so much to both of you. And obviously you know that it’s relatively common for a guy to wake up a little hard. Your brain knows all those things. Knows what you should do. You should just reposition and go back to sleep.

That’s not what you actually do though.

So carefully that it could be an accident, you wiggle against him, a little harder this time. You yawn like you’re actually just adjusting to get comfortable and fall back asleep. He might let you get away with it, too, if you didn’t do it more than once, pressing further back into him each time. You know he’s awake by the sharp intake of breath and then the way he moves his hand to grip your thigh. The way his fingertips dig into your skin there makes you grind back harder without pretending it’s anything else.

Mingyu puts his lips to your ear. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“No,” you whisper.

“I thought we said we were going to take it slow,” he says with incredible difficulty.

“I can move slower,” you answer immediately. It feels gratifying when he snaps his hips into your ass.

“You’re teasing me,” he whines.

“Not if I follow through,” you say. “I want you, Mingyu. I don’t want to wait.”

“Fuck,” he hisses as you continue to grind into him. “I want you to.”

“Then…” you start and immediately cut off as his hand winds back around to your front. He grabs your pussy through your shorts that suddenly feel too flimsy. Runs his long middle finger up your core and you immediately know you started something that he’s going to finish.

But his hand is gone entirely too quickly. Worse still, he pulls back. It’s only long enough for him to turn you towards him and then pull you on top of him. Your brain catches back up once you’re straddle over him and he pulls your face towards him. You kiss him like you haven’t yet. Full of desire and desperation. Nothing like the first few kisses you share. Those kisses were to make sure this was right. This kiss is to ruin him. Maybe to ruin yourself as well. His hands are on your hips, anchoring you to him, not that there’s anywhere else you could possibly be.

It’s never been like this with anyone. Just some heavy kissing and you’re already getting turned on. Already wondering what’s next. What it’s going to feel like. If Mingyu is the type of person that will take his time with you. It’s hard to imagine when he seems just as desperate as you are. At least, he tries to anchor you in a certain position so that you can’t grind too much. Maybe he does want to savor it. You really are down horrendous for this man because you think you could just kiss him like this forever and never quite get enough.

All too soon, Mingyu rolls the pair of you over again. Now he’s hovering over you and nobody has any business being that hot. And then he pulls back, somewhat straddling your legs without putting too much weight on you. In one movement, he pulls his shirt over his head and casts it aside. Okay, now you really think that nobody has any business being that hot. And sure, you’ve seen him shirtless before. This is just different. You don’t even realize as he’s reaching for your shirt until you feel his fingers brush the skin of your stomach. He’s looking for permission, but you’re a little impatient and pull the shirt off yourself. You’re not sure that anyone has ever looked at your body with so much love. Like he’s just as amazed as you are. He peppers your chest and your chest and your stomach with kisses. Showing you just how much he loves every bit of you. It’s the safest feeling in the world and you’re not really sure how you got this lucky.

Mingyu is so gentle when he pulls your shorts off. Trails kisses along your thighs as well and makes you shiver. Chuckles when he pulls his own off and you swallow at the sight of him. He’s a big guy and somehow you’re still not expecting his dick to be big like it is. Haven’t ever really thought about it in all the time you’ve been friends. You expect him to be all confident seeing your reaction. There’s something else there too, though. Like he’s a little nervous about this. You’re not really sure what to say to reassure him, so you just pull him back to you to kiss him again. He adjusts into you almost immediately, half laying on top of you while still making sure that he’s not crushing you.

This time kissing him is very different, though. He moves one hand between your legs. It’s gentle at first. He only runs his finger up your center a few times. Catches each moan with his kisses. Slowly works a finger inside you and pumps at a languid pace. It turns you into a whiny, squirming mess entirely too quickly. Empties any thoughts or worries out of your head. You know you can’t be too loud and you hate it. Nobody should be able to kiss this well while also hitting the perfect spot with each pass of his fingers. He adds a second finger and you’re sure that you’re done for. Sure that nothing else will ever feel as perfect as him again. You reach to stroke him and he pulls back.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, unable to hide the concern in your voice.

“No, nothing,” he assures you quickly. “I just, um, well I really want to fuck you and I’m not sure I could handle it if…”

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, already ready to say it doesn’t matter if you have to.

“I might?” he says more like a question and gets off the bed to cross to his bag with too much speed. In any other situation you might laugh. Now, you just want to feel him. A moment later, after rifling through his bag, he comes back up with one.

He’s moving back to you, unwrapping the condom, and then he looks up at you. There’s a question in his eyes.

“Yes, Mingyu, I want this. And yes, I want it here,” you assure him.

Thankfully, that’s the only confirmation he needs. In the next second, he’s pumping himself a few times and rolling the rubber onto himself. You move to reposition, but he doesn’t let you. He gently presses you back and gets between your legs. Carefully, he lines himself up and presses in.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss out, trying to stay quiet.

“Too much?” he asks and stills.

“No, Gyu, just move, please,” you whine out, pulling him into you.

He does exactly what you ask and snaps his hips so he’s fully buried inside you. It’s a stretch in the best way. Like this is exactly how it’s supposed to be. You can’t help it, you moan out the first time he thrusts and he catches the second moan with another bruising kiss. Probably better to have bruised lips than to have your family hear the screams you let out as he fucks you. Probably better than having them hear his moans as well. They vibrate through his chest and it gives you a sense of pride. Mingyu is a taker in every sense of his life. You know that it must be killing him to keep quiet now.

The two of you fall into a perfect rhythm without even trying. There’s nothing awkward about it being your first time. Knowing each other as well as you do as friends seems to translate here. Or maybe Mingyu just pays much closer attention to you than you realize. You run your nails down his back and his thrusts stutter so you do it again. That seems to get to him. He picks up the paces of his thrusts. Pulls his dick almost all the way out of you before quickly snapping his hips to bury himself in your pussy again. Never in your life has sex as simple as this position felt so good. Never has anyone you’ve dated felt this perfect.

When Mingyu’s thrusts start to stutter, you reach down between your bodies to rub your clit. Seconds later, your pussy clenches around Mingyu and your vision whites out. You can feel Mingyu release and try to pick up the pace to work him through his own orgasm. He half collapses on you, breathing heavy. Both of you have to catch your breath from all the kisses to muffle the noises as well. He tries to roll over so that he’s not on top of you and you cling to him, not ready to lose contact just yet.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you.

“I know.”

“That was…”

“Better than I was expecting.”

You can feel his eyes on you even without looking and it makes you smile. Can imagine what he’s about to say before he even opens his mouth.

“Oh, you didn’t think I’d be any good?”

You laugh at that as you turn to face him. “No, I thought you’d be good. I just didn’t expect our first time where we had to be quiet because we’re in my parents house to be that good.”

He considers your words for a second.

“I guess I can take that,” he concedes.

“Come on. We have to clean up and get downstairs,” you say and he sighs dramatically. But, then he gets up and helps you up with him.

Half an hour later, you’re downstairs at the kitchen table sipping on a peppermint mocha latte and picking out your favorite pastries from the spread your mother has out. Mingyu has his chair pulled close to you and his arm along the back of your chair. Your cousin is sitting on your other side, cheerily humming under her breath. In a strange move, she isn’t even trying to speak to Mingyu. Just as you’re trying to figure out what’s going on with her, she turns to you.

“Have a good morning?” she asks knowingly.

“We’ll talk about it later,” you hiss back, casting your eyes around.

“No need,” she waves off and shoots a smirk at you. “I got exactly what I wanted.”

“I don’t…”

“Seungkwan and I have been talking a lot. Plotting, I guess you could say. Seems like it finally paid off,” she says and your jaw hangs open.

“Are you…did you just…” you stutter out.

“As long as it’s real now,” she says and doesn’t wait for confirmation. Doesn’t need it, when it’s written all over your face. “We can talk about it later but I am sorry.”

“You and fucking Seungkwan,” you grumble.

It is a weight off your chest, though. Mimi has always been your favorite. A safe space in all the insanity of your family. It’s good to know that she’s still that for you. The two of you can argue about her methods, or her alliance with Seungkwan, later. It’s hard to ignore that it did actually help. You’re in this place because some of your favorite people meddled to help you and Mingyu see sense. Maybe you can say all is well that ends well.

In between all the chaos of breakfast and making sure the presents are under the tree, you manage to tell Mingyu about what Mimi had really been up to. He seems relieved. Not even annoyed, just happy that things can settle into whatever the new normal looks like for you and him. You also find time to whisper all the things you want to do to him when there aren’t prying eyes around. It may be cruel, but you delight in the way the blush rises up his cheeks and the way he shifts in his seat. You’re going to have a lot of fun playing with him, you already know. He’s so easy to rile up. Now you have brand new material to use on him.

Your mother works to corral everyone into the living room where the Christmas tree is so that people can start opening presents. You always hold back and watch at first. Don’t even make an effort to find anything that might be for you. It’s more fun to see people’s reactions. Does your mother like what your father picked out? Are your cousins humoring their parents? Did someone manage to get something that’s genuinely a surprise? There’s never a dull moment. In fact, you’re so lost in thought watching that you don't notice wasn’t beside you until he plops back down and nudges you. Hands a small, beautifully wrapped box over to you.

“Go on, open it,” he urges you softly. It’s clear he’s trying not to draw too much attention.

Exchanging gifts with Mingyu isn’t new. It’s something you do every year. This is unexpected though. Usually you exchange gifts away from other people because they can be a little silly. Nothing about this feels silly, though. With a final questioning glance at him, you pull the ribbon off and carefully ripping the paper. It’s immediately clear that it’s a jewelry box. That makes your heart hammer. You can’t even look over at him. Surely this is something he had already. It’s not like there’s been any time to go out and get something in the midst of all your confessions.

There’s a necklace inside the box. Something that looks old, important. The kind of thing you can tell has been well worn and loved without looking cheap. There’s a pendant hanging from the chain with your favorite stone in a setting that you instantly love. It’s the most perfect gift that anyone has ever given you and it makes you a little emotional. You turn to Mingyu, tears welling in your eyes, and want to have the moment just for the two of you. Unfortunately, your mother and several other family members watch your reaction.

“It’s beautiful,” you say softly.

“Do you like it?” he asks, still unsure.

“I love it,” you say earnestly.

“It was my grandmother’s that she got from her grandmother before her. She told me to hold onto it and that I would just know when I should give it to someone,” he says and that does you in. Any last resolve disappears.

The only response you can think of is to just kiss him. A real kiss pressed to his lips full of all the words you can’t say about how much a present like this means to you. How sure you are that you two are making the right decision. It’s so meaningful.

“I love you,” he says quietly, trying to keep it just for the two of you. Which doesn’t happen. Not that it matters. Your parents have heard you saying you loved each other this whole trip. It means something different now, though.

“I love you, too,” you say back. “So much.”

“It’s a beautiful necklace,” your mother offers as Mingyu helps you to put it on.

“I thought it would look good on her,” he adds to your mother.

“Almost as good as a ring,” your mother says. It’s the least subtle comment in the entire world.

Mingyu doesn’t miss a beat. Just smiles and nods a little. “Well, maybe you’ll have to invite me back next year and see what the gift is.”

“You have a deal.”

For the first time, you’re not upset with your mother for bringing up marriage and the idea of settling down. You’re just basking in the affection coming from Mingyu and appreciating your new necklace. Soon, you’ll have to leave this little bubble. Trade the idyllic snow covered scenery where everything moves a little slower for your life back in the city. But, you’ll be taking a different relationship with Mingyu back. You think that maybe he’ll be the key to you finally figuring out how to balance it all. Maybe he’s been the answer all along.

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0mg-bird · 7 months ago

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Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader

Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.

“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.

“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.

Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.

Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.

“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.

“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.

Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.

By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.

“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.

“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.

Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”

“What?!” They all exclaimed.

Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.

As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”

Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”

“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”

Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”

Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.

His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”

“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”

“She’s not fake!”

~~~~~~~

“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.

Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.

Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.

“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.

“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.

You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”

Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.

You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”

Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.

You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.

As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.

You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over his upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.

“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.

You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.

“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.

“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”

You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”

“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.

“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”

He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”

Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.

“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”

“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”

He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”

“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.

His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.

Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.

As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.

“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”

He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.

Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.

“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.

“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.

“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”

You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.

By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.

Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.

“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.

A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.

“What?”

“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.

Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”

You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.

“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.

Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.

Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.

You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.

“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.

“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.

Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.

“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.

“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”

The crew grows a sour look.

“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.

Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.

“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.

“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.

The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.

When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.

“Where you goin’?” He questions.

“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.

He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.

His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.

“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.

Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”

They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”

“What?!”

#top gun maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin imagine #top gun fandom #jake seresin x y/n #glen powell

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moirasdolly · 2 months ago

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˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Princess Treatment ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟSevika x Fem Reader

Synopsis: How can Sevika focus on a word you’re saying when your lips just look so kissable? She just wants to take you home and spoil you…

Contains: NSFW (minors and men dni), biting, lots of hickies, sevika eats reader out, strap on sex mwahhh, reader gets princess treatment

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: The Party & The After Party - The Weeknd

Notes: Sorry it’s been so long T^T, I’ve been really struggling with writing and I’m not even confident or necessarily happy with this either. I hope you guys enjoy it regardless <\3 I totally didn’t write this because i’m projecting (I want Sevika so bad)

Your sweet voice that flowed from between your lips like syrup were all Sevika could even think about as you sat in her lap at The Last Drop. Her flesh arm wrapped tenderly around your waist and the mechanical one draped across the bar counter, shielding you from any drunkard who might bump into you. Even though it was already winding down and there were few patrons left in the bar, she would never leave you exposed. She didn’t retain a single word you were speaking though, she was too focused on the tone of your voice, the way your hands flailed wildly as you explained whatever story you were telling, and most importantly your perfectly pouty lips.

Thieram stood behind the counter listening intently, nodding his head at every little detail of your story along with Ran who would throw out a comment every so often. “…and you would not believe it… I slipped on a banana peel!” You could barely even get through your sentence without breaking out into a fit of giggles. You buried your face in your hands, tears threatening to spill over because of your laughter. The laughter of the whole group snapped Sevika out of her daze and she forced out a chuckle at your antics. It wasn’t that she didn’t find your story interesting, she just couldn’t help but get lost in your whole being.

You picked up on her behavior and shot her a look over your shoulder. You furrowed your brows gently and your lips fell into a little frown as you looked into her gray eyes. She looked up at you through her lashes as apologetically as she could before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. You’d let it slide for now, but when you got home you’d be sure to question her.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch, and Sevika made sure to actually contribute to the conversations. You had almost forgotten about her earlier slip up, until the same thing happened again. You were mid sentence when you noticed Sevika hadn’t said anything for the longest time, but her grip was beginning to tighten on you. Her arm had moved slightly lower to wrap around your hip instead, her large hand mindlessly rubbed small circles into the flesh exposed by your shorts. Your words faltered at her touch and you fumbled over your sentence. Your hand rested over her own before gliding it down to rest on your thigh instead. You kept a watchful eye on her to make sure she didn’t try anything before the night was over.

Unfortunately, it was getting late and everyone was growing tired. You four were the only other ones in the bar since it was pretty late into the night. Thieram didn’t want to kick you guys out, but he did have to close up the bar sooner or later. “It was nice seeing everyone again! Maybe next time we could play a few rounds of pool?” You planted your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side slightly awaiting an answer from your close friends. “Only if you plan to lose.” Ran quipped back. You feigned disbelief, raising a hand to your chest and gasping. “You’ll be eating your words Ran, remember this moment.”

This got a real chuckle out of Sevika this time. She slid her flesh arm around your waist and tugged you closer to her. “I bet on my princess, sorry Ran.” They dismissed the rest of the group with a wave of their hand, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” It was all lighthearted though, you saw the corner of their lips tug up into a smile before turning to make their leave. Now it was just Thieram, Sevika and yourself outside of the bar. The young man bid you farewell before stepping back inside the establishment for his closing duties.

A comfortable silence settled over you as you began the walk back to your shared home. Now that it was just the two of you alone though, you wanted to prod her about her seemingly not paying attention to you. “Sev… How come you weren’t listening to a word I said tonight?” You tried to keep the pout off your lips, you really did, but you were kind of irritated with her. Sevika looked like a deer caught in headlights, like she didn’t quite know how to explain herself. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for her to talk. “I’m not moving ‘til you tell me.” You knew you were being stubborn, but you thought you deserved an explanation. If there was something on her mind, you wanted to know.

The older woman could most definitely overpower you to keep you walking, but instead she stopped the moment you did. Her arm was still wrapped around your waist but she turned to face you. You were staring up at her with those big, beautiful eyes of yours and she couldn’t help but get lost in your features. You were feeling shy under her gaze, your cheeks flushing uncontrollably. She brought her flesh hand up to your face, gripping your chin between her thumb and index finger gently. “Princess, I’m sorry you’re just too beautiful. I was so mesmerized by your sweet voice I could barely process what you were saying tonight.” Well you couldn’t be mad at that explanation.

“I was just thinking about how much more sweet you’d sound under me, begging for more.” She angled your head up slightly higher before capturing your lips in a kiss that was far too quick for your liking. When she parted from you, you tried to chase after her lips eagerly just wanting to feel her against you again. “Why don’t we get home first?” She murmured. All previous thoughts you had were no longer present and instead all you could think about was getting home as quickly as possible. You nodded slowly and you two continued down the path to home.

Your home wasn’t the closest to The Last Drop and your legs were getting tired, but you didn’t want to complain. Your pace was beginning to slow, the shoes you had decided on were not the most comfortable, but you weren't thinking about the walk home when you chose your attire for the night. The gentlewoman that Sevika was, had noticed your discomfort and scooped you up into her arms. No matter how many times she did it, it made you gasp still. “Sevi!” You wrapped your arms around her neck as an automatic response and she just chuckled. “I can’t have my princess feeling tired before we even get home.”

The implications of that were enough to make your cheeks flush again, and you were practically buzzing in her arms with anticipation.

The rest of the walk home was filled with sweet idle conversation, although it was mostly you rambling away like always while Sevika listened intently. She couldn’t get enough of you and your honeyed tone.

Your shared home was slowly coming into view and you huffed prematurely, knowing she’d have to set you down to get the door open. “Sweet girl, I’m going to get this door open, but you’ll be in my arms again in no time.” Your feet hit the ground for the first time in a while, but you felt well rested thanks to your thoughtful girlfriend.

“Thank you baby.” You drew out the pet name as she opened the door, whisking you inside before locking it behind you. Before you could even get another word out you were in her strong arms once more. Her flesh arm cradled your back and her mechanical arm hooked under your thighs as she carried you bridal style to the bedroom. Your sweet giggles filled Sevika’s ears as she planted about a dozen soft kisses all over your face.

The next time you were put down you felt fuzzy blankets beneath your body as you sank into the bed. Sevika propped herself up with her mechanical arm and snuck her knee between your thighs gently, chuckling at your eagerness to feel her when you squeezed your legs around her limb. Her gray eyes peered down at you, heavy lidded with lust and adoration for you, her perfect, angelic sweetheart. “Fuck, I wish you could see just how beautiful you look under me right now.” Her gray, puppy dog eyes met your own and you couldn’t take it anymore. The way they glimmered down at you made you want her even more. You snaked your arms around her neck and tugged her down to meet your lips in a heated kiss.

Your tongue swiped over her bottom lip briefly before prodding into her mouth. If you weren’t listening so intently you would have missed the tiny groan that emanated from her throat. You wanted to hear more, so with all your strength you pushed her to the side and flipped your positions. Sevika definitely let you, otherwise you would have stayed snuggly under her due to the difference in strength.

Your legs rested on either side of her hips and your head dipped down to her jaw to press several feather light kisses to her skin. Whatever was left of your pink lipgloss transferred to her jawline and you loved how your kiss marks looked on her tanned skin.

She was enjoying your kisses even more than you though. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were fluttering shut every so often to bask in the feeling. The next time your plump lips met her skin, it was on the tender patch of skin in the middle of her throat. You placed one kiss, two kisses, and on the third one you sucked a small bruise into her skin. Her deep moans vibrated on your lips and you felt like you couldn’t get enough of her. “Baby I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” She chuckled in between moans.

Those soft lips of yours curled into a smile as you peered down at all your hard work. Her neck was littered with evidence of your affection. Dark purples and reds were blooming all across the expanse of her supple skin. “You can do whatever you want to me… just let me have my fun first.” You whispered into her ear, your teeth nipping her lobe.

“Whatever my princess wants, she gets.”

What you wanted to do was leave her neck completely covered in love bites, so that she’d have to wear turtlenecks out for the next two weeks. And you were on the right track for that. Sevika would never admit it out loud, even though you’ve witnessed it before, but just being kissed and bitten by you was enough for her to cum in her pants. She got off on how desperate you were to mark her and show everyone she was yours just as much as you were hers.

You slipped your hands under her cropped shirt, sliding it up her toned stomach. Her breasts sprang free and you adjusted yourself lower on her body to give them soft kisses before taking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her breathing grew heavier as you sucked little bruises into her breasts. Little grunts and sighs escaped her lips and a devilish idea presented itself to you. You nipped her nipple with your teeth as you kneaded her other breast softly. You began grinding on her, the friction felt unbelievably good for the both of you. Her body was growing taut at the sensation and in no time you had her cumming with a string of moans.

“Fuck, princess your mouth is heaven on earth…” She trailed off after taking a deep breath.

You tried containing your smile, but you felt rather accomplished for making her cum with nothing but your mouth on her. “You’re so sensitive, who knew that’s all it would take.”

“Well it’s easy to give in when I have the most beautiful woman in the world sitting on top of me.” Her charming words made your heart melt and you couldn’t help but lean down to kiss her for the millionth time. Unfortunately for you, the kiss was cut short by Sevika pulling away.

“I think it’s time to spoil my baby.”

Her flesh arm flipped you over, your back hitting the bed as she caged you underneath her broad body. A squeal escaped your lips at the sudden move and Sevika ate up your little noises as she captured your lips in a fervent kiss. Your hands instantly found purchase on her muscular shoulders as you tried to pull her closer. Her mechanical hand had a bruising grip on your hip, and the sting felt delicious. Her flesh hand was gentle, a complete contrast. She held your face like you were made of glass, her thumb caressing your blushed cheek.

As much as she loved kissing your perfect, plump lips, she wanted her mouth on your body too. She took the hem of your shirt in between her fingers and ripped it off of you. No time was wasted as she unclasped your bra as well, throwing it somewhere in the room. Her lips trailed heated kisses down your jaw, across your throat, and all across your chest. Dark lipstick was littered across your whole upper body, and it was almost making the older woman malfunction. If she could, she’d take a picture and keep it in her wallet. You were the epitome of beauty to her always, but in that moment you looked like an angel, all sprawled out for her with her marks all over you.

“Sevika… Don’t just look, touch me. Please…” You whined softly, if you weren’t so turned on you’d cringe at how needy you sounded.

She shot you a toothy grin, “I know baby, let’s get these off of you.” She tugged at the waistband of your little shorts, pulling them down your thighs, and fully off your legs. Next were the lacy panties you knew Sevika liked. She pressed a kiss to the little bow in the center of your panties before discarding those as well. The cold air hit your body and you shivered at the feeling.

“Come warm me up, Sevi.”

That’s all she needed to hear before hiking your thighs up on her shoulders before delving into your glistening cunt. She gave your clit a quick kiss before flattening her tongue against you.You mewled at the sensation of her thick, long tongue brushing against your aching clit. She had barely even touched you and you already felt a familiar feeling building in your stomach. Your body was something she knew eerily well, she knew all the spots that made you tick, the pressure that made you see stars, and just the way to swirl her tongue to make you clench those beautiful thighs around her head.

“Fuck baby, you taste so good, my sweetheart.”

She lapped at your cunt like she was drunk on the taste of you. Her tongue slipped into you, deep. Reaching places only she could. Your thighs clamped down around her head, and that’s exactly where she wanted to be, buried between the soft flesh.

She was relentless when you came with a long string of filthy moans of her name. It just spurred her on even more until you were twitching under her, feeling overstimulated. When she came up for air, she licked her lips which were slick with your release. Her eyes met your own as she wiped her mouth before leaning to kiss down your thighs once more. Her tongue ghosted over your sensitive flesh before she moved away to let you recover for a moment.

Your body laid limp on the bed as Sevika rubbed small circles on your waist to bring you back to earth. “Can you give me another, princess?” Her flesh hand found its way to your face again, her thumb slipping past your lips. You nodded your head slowly, your hazy eyes finding hers.

“Words baby.” She reminded you.

“Yes, Sevi. I can take it.” Your voice was muffled slightly by her digit, but it was clear you wanted whatever she’d give you.

She slipped off the bed to retrieve her strap, slipping into the black harness that made your mouth water. The bed dipped under her weight as she climbed onto the bed once more, returning to her rightful place between your legs again. If Sevika was one thing in bed, it was appreciative. She took in your beautiful form inch by inch, her eyes scanning your body like it was a piece of art. Her demeanor was rough and mean with everyone and if you were honest, it turned you on completely. But she wasn’t like that with you, she treated you with care as if you were made of porcelain. Her touches were tender, making your comfort her highest regard. You truly were her princess

The tip of her silicone length rested against your soaked pussy, and you knew she wasn’t trying to tease, but you just wished she’d move. You bucked your hips with what energy you had left to receive a bit of friction, and all Sevika could do was chuckle at how needy you were. She took your movements as a sign to guide the dark purple length into you. Calloused hands guided your plush thighs to wrap around her waist gently. You squeezed your thighs around her as she disappeared into you little by little.

Her eyes trailed down to where you two were connected before trailing back up to look into your hazy eyes. Your lashes were lined with crystalline tears, collecting like little dewdrops on your lashes.

“You’re taking me so good, sweetheart.” Sevika rasped, leaning down to kiss away your tears. “D’ya think you can handle me moving?”

A lewd whimper left your lips, and you didn’t quite trust your voice to not crack when you spoke. The best you could muster out was a little, “Please.”

God, you sounded so blissed out, it was taking every bone in the older woman’s body to not fuck you silly into the mattress. She started with slow and controlled rolls of her hips into your cunt. You wrapped your arms around her broad back, pulling her flush against you. You couldn’t help but press soft kisses onto the little bruises you created on her from earlier. She sucked in a breath as you kissed a particularly sore spot. You let your teeth graze her neck, nipping at her ever so slightly.

Her hips stuttered initially as you bit her, but she picked up her movement, moving faster than before. Soft grunts were amplified in your ears and it was almost all you could focus on. If it weren’t for the thick toy being stuffed into you, you would have said something about the noises she was making. Her huffs vibrated against your ear lobe and on a particularly deep thrust she moaned like she could feel your cunt clenching around the toy.

“Baby you’re squeezing me so hard, so perfect.” She just couldn’t keep her hands to herself either. One hand rested on your waist and the other trailed down your stomach to your clit. She rubbed slow circles on your already sensitive clit and you couldn’t take it. The feeling of her quick, deep thrusts along with the additional stimulation was sending you reeling.

You were just putty in her hands, babbling nonsense that resembled her name and various curse words. You couldn’t even hold your head up anymore, instead letting it hit the soft pillows beneath you. Sevika took the chance to kiss up your neck slowly, paying attention to every bit of exposed skin she could get to. By now her lipstick was already rubbed off, but you could still feel every mark she left on you. You wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

“Fuck!” You squealed out as she snapped her hips into you at an even more brutal pace. “‘M so close Sevi!” You could barely form a full sentence the way she was ruining you. Without warning your body stiffened and you were cumming. She didn’t slow down though, she kept her pace up as you twitched around her thick length. She pushed herself up from where she was trailing kisses all over your neck to see the rest of you. Your lips were plump and parted, lewd whimpers falling from them like that’s all you knew how to do. Your hair was messy, neck filled with bruises to match her own, and your chest was full of lipstick marks. You were completely hers, and you had the marks to prove it too.

Her eyes trailed down to where you were taking her so well, “Look at how it disappears baby, you were made for me.” Her words were filthy, and her eyes were full of lust as she saw the creamy white ring forming around the base of the toy.

Your brows furrowed as you began to feel overstimulated once more, and Sevika being the attentive woman she was, took it as a sign to slow down. Eventually she slid out of you, and you sighed at the empty feeling. Your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to catch your breath. Sevika pressed soft little kisses to both of your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally a quick one to your lips, not wanting to tire you out anymore than you already were. “You did so good for me, princess.” She whispered into your ear as she brought her flesh hand to cup your face.

“Gonna clean you up now, is that okay?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes still shut as she untangled herself from between your thighs to clean herself up and retrieve a washcloth for you. When she returned she was in a fresh pair of pajamas and her hair was down. You opened your eyes to take in the sight when you heard her footsteps again. “So cute.” You whispered with a giggle. To everyone in Zaun she was a scary lady, but to you she was your sweet girlfriend who wore big t-shirts and fuzzy pajama bottoms to bed. She just shook her head with a soft smile and settled onto the edge of the bed near your legs. You spread your legs for her and she wiped the inside of your thighs and your sensitive folds. A sigh slipped past your lips and she planted a kiss on your lips as she cleaned every last bit of you. “All clean…” She tossed the washcloth somewhere in the room, she’d put it in the wash tomorrow.

It wasn’t that Sevika wanted to see you in her clothes… of course not! She just wanted you to be warm, that’s all. That’s what she told herself as she slipped one of her sleep shirts over your head. Her heart melted when you poked your head out of the opening of the shirt and met her eyes. She couldn’t resist giving you another kiss. You smiled against her lips before she pulled back to slip a pair of your panties up your thighs and up onto your hips.

The moment you were clothed you dove under the covers, waving a lazy hand to make Sevika join you. Once she did you clung to her tightly, tucking your head under her chin to rest on her chest. Her warm body heated you up, and your eyes fluttered shut. “You sleepy, baby?” Sevika asked even though she already knew the answer.

You hummed a noncommittal noise, just opting to burrow closer to Sevika if that was even possible.

“I tired you out today huh…”

When she got no response from you she kissed the top of your head and let her eyes shut slowly too. Sleep came easy to her when she had her princess wrapped up in arms.

#princess treatment ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 #dulcet fics ♡#sevika x fem reader #sevika x reader #sevika #sevika arcane #arcane #arcane x reader #arcane fanfic #sevika fanfic

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ramonathinks · 7 months ago

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matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished.

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one.

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews.

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person.

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.”

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat.

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.”

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that.

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months.

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke.

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.”

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried.

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago.

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful.

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand.

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?”

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself.

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t.

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before.

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him.

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial.

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him.

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him?

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in.

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid.

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water.

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?”

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events.

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more.

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud.

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum.

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you.

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his.

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body – focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you.

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation.

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling.

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves.

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you.

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response.

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs.

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.”

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered.

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow.

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other.

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.”

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex.

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews.

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too.

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