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maimura · 4 hours ago

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My sweetsweet girl dedicating another fic to me guys…. my heart is swelling because of how full it is.

Guys… I suggest listening to Mitski…. First Love/Late Spring… Like it actually hits. Okay guys once again, this reblog will be LONG! SO SPOILERS AHEAD!!! READ THIS GIRLS WORK FIRST 😚!!

also no pictures this time because i know im going to pick out too many favorite parts and tweak out if i dont put them all… so yes… you’re getting explanations from me…

THIS FIC IS ABSOLUTELY SOUL CRUSHING BECAUSE ITS REMINDING ME SO MUCH OF THE NETFLIX FILM “IRREPLACEABLE YOU” I WATCHED NOT TOO LONG AGO. and if you heard from me… i cried (bawled) my eyes out 8. EIGHT. E I G H T TIMES. so can you imagine what happened to me while reading this????

the fic starts off with reader and leehan just casually sharing another morning together 😖 and then she has to go to a check up after discussing about it with leehan ☹️ why does that already show they tell everything to each other ☹️.

I KNOW THIS WAS EXPECTED BUT SEEING READER GET HER DIAGNOSIS WAS STILL SO SAD. because you know she’s going to start giving up years she spent with leehan, because she loves him and doesn’t want to hurt him with her illness/death….

LIKE THE TEXTS HE SENT JUST LIKE SOLIDIFIED THE IDEA THAT SHE WANTS TO MAKE HIM FALL OUT OF LOVE . nothing would change her mind and you know that because she instantly starts thinking about leehan and what he has already accomplished ☹️ and she doesnt want to ruin that ☹️ so now shes going to be hiding that… about her Pain For Him . Like . Oh okay So im already going to face heartbreak Thanks .

WHEN THE DAYS STARTED OOOHHHH MY HEART ALREADY CRUMBLED AT THE SIGHT OF “DAY 1” LIKE OKAY. like its so frustrating/sad because reader is bottling all this up while leehan is just simply clueless and wants to know why she’s acting like this… like okay i feel sad for both of them.

by day 13 we really get to see leehans perspective and GOSHHH he just misses her so bad. the way everything he missed was written down… it was like a dagger stabbed through my chest . Again . and the flashback to reader mentioning sanghyeok… yeah i can’t blame her sanghyeok FINEFINEEEEEE 😛 But this is not about him right now (i still love him 🤫)

And the dying being italicized when we are talking about his wedding suit…. Okay Lili. OKAYOKAYOKAYOKAYA.

AND LEEHAN REMINISCING ABOUT THE PASTTTT . HES ENJOYING IT THINKING ABOUT THEM WHILE READER CAN ONLY FEEL GUILT/SADNESS ☹️☹️☹️ why did it have to be them. Why.

got a scare when i saw reader say “i don’t think i love you anymore” Girlllllll GIRLLLLLLLLL I ALMOST JUMPED???? Please stop my heart already couldnt take it previously AND NOW??? U WANNA ADD THAT??? but leehan clutched up and told her about the ring… BUT GOSH THE INTENSITY??

YOU CAN JUST FEEL HER HESITATING WHILE LEEHAN IS JUST TRYING TO MAKE SENSE OF THE SITUATION… and his mini outburst?? but reader is just… saying theres nothing and hes back to being even quieter than before… Yeah that killed me.

And leehan just being there no matter what reader says or does, he IS and WILL be staying with her… like okay I think I think I think I just fell again .

AND WHY DID IT HAVE TO BE DAY 27 HE FINALLY FIGURED OUT 😂😂😂😢😢😢😖😢😢😂😢😢😖 you can honestly feel all his emotions once he found out… like pain, grief, sadness, anger… but ultimately like simply why did this have to happen? why did it have to be you and why did it have to be him…. AND FAWKKYPUUUU FOR GIVING HIM THAT FLASHBACK TO THE PROPOSAL LIKE OHHH THAT HURTTTT.

and still even finding out… he wants to still be with her no matter what… like Brah this is what love does to a person and its so sweet just seeing that …. but now its just so sad ☹️

AND WHEN DAY 28 ARRIVED NOOOOO Gosh the vulnerability was spilling through. like lili is actually so descriptive with her writing it really engulfs you to FEEL how its like to BE THERE . LIKE GOSH???? IM CLUTCHING ONTO MY CHEST???? i felt her pain when she was trying to hold everything back like usual but couldn’t :(

AND SHE FINALLY TOLD HIM… though she didn’t realize but leehan already knows :( and they finally got into an embrace like i know both of them were just missing being with each other like that.

AND LIKE WHAT READER SAID IN THE BEGINNING, LEEHAN TRULY WAS WILLING AND READY TO DROP EVERYTHING FOR HER ☹️☹️☹️ and finally she accepts it because she knows he wouldnt take no for an answer… #determinedfianceleehan #cravethat

IM SO GLAD WE GOT SOME FLUFF like their moment together painting was sososo cute. I NEEDED THAT SOOOO BAD. and the star talk yuuuupyyuuuupyyuuuuuup Sophia Deceased.

AND THE WAY READER JUST PROGRSSIVELY GETS WEAKER AND WEAKER ☹️☹️☹️☹️ like leehan is just still besides her after all of that and its just ahaidudkdjisjdjs “im the luckiest person in the world” ARE YOU REALLY THOUGH ☹️ (yes, with being with leehan, but no again because, she’s really sick and is getting worse) like its the right person just along with a twisted fate </3

and like they still try to have moments together where they can hopefully temporarily take her mind off the pain she’s experiencing but its so obvious that she’s getting worse…. it’s actually heartbreaking because you know they are just two lovers but they are about to face something they don’t want to.

AND LEEHAN KNOWS ☹️ hes been so attentive throughout this whole fic so just reading this breaks my heart. he doesn’t want to believe it, but with reader’s condition, it’s hard NOT to fear that she will be leaving, you know? AND HE JUST DOESNT WANT TO LET HER GOOOOO

Day 62. My nemesis. THE DAY FINALLY EVERYTHING CHANGES ☹️ leehan wants her to stay but they both know deep down, she’s starting to slip away (even if they don’t want to believe that). LIKE HER LAST WORDS BEING I LOVE YOU OH GOSH IM GOING TO CRASH OUTTTTT. saying that in your dying moments is just ten times more impactful because you know those words are going to stick with the other person forever…

AND THE LETTER???????????? THEEEE LETTERRRR??? Goodbyeogheyeofhdyee this is reminding me of the freaking film now im goigny to cry Lili did yoy do this on purpsoeo. see now i dant even tyep proeprly . “I’ll be the star that shines the most for you.” IM GOING TO CRYYYYY KNOWING THEYW ERE TALKINF ABOUT STARS EARLIER AND ALL FHAT STUFF. THIS HURTSSSSSSSS trust i was crying along with leehan.

AND TEN YEARS?????? He literally still loves her so much what if i died. HIM TALKING TO HER AND THE SUNSET BEING THERE ARGHHHHHH. i hateithereihateithereihateithere

and we are back at the countryhouse ☹️ the house he wanted to get for her ☹️ for THEM ☹️ AND HES STILL TENDING HER FAVORITE FLOWERS BYE IS THIS WHY YOU ASKED . WHAT MY FAVES WERE. TO HURT ME EVEN MORE .

“I’ll see you again, Y/N.” STOPSTOPSTOPPPPPP like its been so sad and that added onto it, but it almost felt comforting???? like its just a sad but nice closing because its like no matter what, he loves her ☹️

LILI, to dedicate such a beautiful fic to me is EVIL (because 1) its angst .. i love it but guys This is the outcome of me reading it 2) ANGST WITH LEEHAN???? KIM. DONGHYUN. HELLOO??? i got spoilers and me finding it here… Yeah gut wrenching.) BUT ALSO SUCH AN HONOR BECAUSE WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOURE DEDICATING THIS TO MEEEE. guys when i say i LOVE her works, i mean it with every bone and fiber in my body. this was absolutely amazing and i can just reread this over and over again :’) thank you for posting this within my timezone, like who would sacrifice their sleep to TELL YOU they will be posting and making sure that they did???? Gosh i love her so much 😢😢😢😢❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 i yapped so much im so sorry my sweet girl 😖😖

　ᅠ 🀦　ᅠ THIRTY DAYS OF LOVE　　────　ᅠ ( kim leehan )

𝓹recis ⠀ : ⠀donghyun’s world shatters when he learns that the love of his life, you, is running out of time. but when the unexpected happens𑁋and you begin pushing him away, he makes a choice he’ll never fail to make over and over again. to love you through all the sunsets, quietly, fiercely and eternally.

　　　ᅠ 김동현 ⠀⠀◜◡◝ ⠀⠀𝒇 reader ⠀wc 12k ⠀ genre angst fluff established relationship non idol au fiancé au ⠀ contains mentions of food blood death terminal sickness drugs (as medicine) crying skinship pet names ⠀ tagging @a-dream-bookmark ,@/k-labels , @k-nets , @k-films , @sgz-net , @onedoornet

　　　ᅠ note ᅠ from ᅠ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈 ! ᅠ this is it guys my debut leehan fic is angst! and since this is my first time doing such a long angst fic i dedicate this to my lovely @miumura <3 i hope this is good enough for you babes! and my biggest thanks to rhin and sru for proofreading this for me ~ mwah ^3^

　　　ᅠ ＞︿　　please leave feedbacks 　　& 　　reblog

“SEE you tonight, angel,” Donghyun kisses your hair, pulling you into a hug. He doesn’t let go for a while, comfortable at how you’re perfectly snuggling against his chest.

Still in his hug, you look up at him. “Why are you still hugging me? You’re going to be late for the meeting,” you say, knowing that his office takes a longer time to reach than yours.

Donghyun smiles, placing his chin on your head. He pulls you into his embrace tighter, savouring every bit of the moment. “I don’t know, I just want to hug you a little longer.”

“Okay, you can hug me when you come home tonight,” you say, gently pushing him away. It’d be such an outrageous lie if you said you didn’t love your fiancé’s hugs, but you also know that if you didn’t push him out the door, he wouldn’t get to work on time.

You push Donghyun to the door, then go on the tip of your toes, kissing his cheek. “I’ll see you tonight, dear.”

Donghyun pouts, yet he opens the door. “I’m sorry I can’t come with you for your doctor’s appointment,” he says, pressing his lips together.

You’re going to work a bit later today, as you have your monthly check-up in the morning. It’s nothing serious, just a habit that you’ve gotten used to since a child—as your parents would always bring you in for a monthly check-up at the clinic. Better safe than sorry, they said.

Plus, you have been feeling quite distorted lately—swamped with fatigue and sleep disturbances. You thought it’s related to stress, but after talking to Donghyun about it, you’re a bit relieved that you’re getting it checked out, in case of anything serious.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” you say, giving him a smile. You feel a pang in your heart—it’s no lie that you’re a bit nervous, as this is the first time in years that you’d be going to the doctor’s without Donghyun by your side.

“You’ll be fine?”

You nod, chuckling. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay then,” Donghyun says, sighing. He adjusts the man bun you’ve helped him tie, before stepping out of the apartment. “I’ll see you tonight—text me!”

You laugh, adoring how cute your handsome fiancé is. “I will, sweetheart. Get to work safely.”

“I will!” you hear him exclaim, waving before he takes a turn down the hallway. You take a deep breath before going back into your apartment to get ready for the day.

After getting ready, you take a cab over to the clinic, prepping yourself by saying that it’s nothing to be worried about—the fact that you’ve been feeling extra tired and coughing more often are caused by stress and that it’s nothing serious.

The worried look on your doctor’s face and the way that she orders additional scans and tests makes you think otherwise. Though, still, you brave yourself.

That is until the nurse comes back with your tests, a grim look on her face, and you can’t help but feel extremely scared.

“I’m sorry, Miss, but it looks like you have advanced lung cancer, and… the prognosis isn’t good.”

The world stops spinning, and everything goes silent. The weight of the world crashes down on you. Everything feels distant, like you’re underwater.

“From my observations, and the tests that we ran for you just now, the cancer looks like it’s beyond treatable. All we can do is give you some medications to help with the pain–”

“How much longer do I have?” you suddenly ask, your voice throaty. Tears begin to collect at the corners of your eyes, and all you can think of is Donghyun.

Your doctor widens her eyes in surprise, not expecting such a calm reaction. “I… estimate it to be around two months, at best.”

You nod absentmindedly, barely hearing the doctor explaining further help with medication, lifestyle and life expectancy. Your head is spinning, and all you’re able to think about is Donghyun. The happy life the two of you are planning.

“Would… you like to call someone?” the doctor asks, pulling you back to reality.

You blink back tears, immediately shaking your head. You force a smile. “No. I’ll be fine.”

You clutch the test results in your hand tightly as you leave the clinic in a daze. You glance at the people around you—some are happily calling or texting someone through their phones, some are enjoying their food with their partners, some are even rushing to work. You watch everyone go with their life, tears in your eyes. Suddenly, all the little things mean so much more to you.

You glance at the time on your phone—if you catch the train now, you’d be able to reach work and catch up on some pending tasks. You plod through the path, slowly making your way down the subway. When you reach down the stairs, your phone vibrates with messages from none other than your beloved, Kim Donghyun.

Swallowing thickly, you read the texts from your notifications.

hi angel! i hope everything’s going well

this meeting is boring

i’d rather bring u to the aquarium for a date ^_^

anyways text me back when u can, ok?

i love u sm!

Once again, your eyes overfill with tears, causing them to fall down your cheeks. You place a hand on your chest. Your hand forms a fist, crumpling the test results. A part of you is aching to call him and cry your heart out about this new calamity that hit you—yet, another bigger part of you knows that you shouldn’t.

Donghyun had recently got promoted at his workplace, getting a higher pay raise. He’s also collecting money to open his own fish shop. He’s been talking to you about it for ages, and he even has a pinterest board saved. His dreams are slowly coming true, and you’re not ruining that for him—you know that he’ll instantly drop everything once you break the truth to him.

You force yourself to look up, swatting your tears away with the edge of your sleeve. You blink back the remaining tears, reaching a resolute decision in your mind.

Instead of telling Donghyun, you’re going to make him fall out of love with you.

You smile sadly.

It’s for the best. You love him too much to want him to give up on his dreams just to take care of you. You love him too dearly to see him heartbroken over your state. You love him so much that you’re willing to die alone.

You love him, more than you ever could describe, that you’re willing to pull away to prevent him from sacrificing his future for you.

You switch your phone off, taking a deep breath. As you step into the train, heading for work, you decide that you’re going to give yourself thirty days to accomplish your mission.

Thirty final days with him, then that’s it.

THAT night, you can’t sleep. The reality that you’re living in seems so real yet so distant, and it keeps you awake. You’re in Donghyun’s arms, staring at the ceiling blankly. The gentle rhythm of his chest heaving up and down, the warmth of his breath against your forehead comforts you—yet it washes you through a wave of realisation—that this will be one of your final nights with him.

Enjoy it while it lasts.

You snuggle closer to him, blinking to force tears back in. You brave yourself, shifting your gaze upon your fiancé’s face—his peaceful sleeping face that looks so cute and adorable. You’ve cried too much today, yet you can’t stop the tears from dripping down your face again.

It’s so unfair. You were finally happy–why did it have to be robbed right from you when you were just getting comfortable?

The urge to wake him up and tell him everything is overwhelming, but you clench your fists and swallow the words. You take a deep breath, repeating to yourself the mission that you’re putting yourself to.

Thirty days to make Donghyun leave me.

You shift your gaze back towards the ceiling, mentally making a list of what you have to do for the next four weeks.

DAY 1.

In the morning, you’re up earlier than Donghyun is—that’s usually how it is, but this time, you had to make sure you’re awake before he is, to avoid any slip-ups from you.

You’ve already showered—you’re now in your bathrobes, and done your whole morning routine. You walk over to your shared bed, smiling softly at finding Donghyun still soundly sleeping. You kneel on the bed, forcing yourself to maintain a stoic face as you shake him awake.

“Good morning, love,” he mumbles, stretching his arms wide before pulling you in for a hug. You bite the bottom of your lip, holding back a smile. Usually, you’d giggle and kiss him good morning, but this time, you don’t. You stay silent, not reciprocating both his greeting and his hug. It pains you, but the pain that’s in your lungs every time you take a deep breath reminds you of the harsh future you’re facing.

After a few minutes, Donghyun notices the change in your behaviour. He opens his eyes, pulling away slightly so he can look you straight in the eye. “Are you okay?”

You press your lips into a thin line. “I’m fine,” you reply, giving him a half-hearted smile.

Donghyun holds the gaze longer than you wish he did, pursing his lips as he analyses any emotion that you might be displaying on your face.

Before he could say anything that will definitely make you break character, you push yourself out of his embrace, walking to the vanity. The weight of your lie begins to sink in your chest, marking the beginning of your plan.

You know that Donghyun, as dense as he can be sometimes (read as most of the time), is quick to pick up on things—especially if it’s about things and people he loves. You notice him lingering around you, standing behind you, longer than he usually does, with a puzzled look on his face as you go through your usual morning routine.

Except that you don’t pack a lunch for him, pretending that you’re occupied with some other house chore. Except that you don’t smile sweetly, saying that you love him while you give him a kiss on the cheek as the two of you part ways for the day.

Donghyun notices, and you know that as soon as you receive a text message from him right after you’ve arrived at your office.

angel

you okay?

did i do smth wrong? i don’t have lunch today :<

You open the message and give him a simple and dry response: “no”. You grit your teeth, already hating the weight that’s pushing you down every single time you lie to him.

The rest of the week goes by the same way—you try your absolute best to create distance between you and Donghyun: talking to him in an uninterested tone, not hugging back whenever he does, pretending to not remember to kiss him goodnight and goodmorning, not updating him about your day to let him smile as he listen to you like how it usually is.

You’ve, too, lost count the amount of times Donghyun has come up to you and asked if you were okay.

“I’m fine,” you grunt, scooting away. You adjust your posture before forcing yourself to focus on the show you’re watching. It’s not even that interesting, but you need to do everything humanly possible to ignore the handsome ball of fluff sitting next to you, begging you to tell him what’s wrong with those super cute boba eyes of his.

You hear Donghyun quietly sighing before walking away to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge to find some snacks to offer you.

“Here,” he says after a while. You glance at him, gulping at the sight of the honey butter chips Donghyun is stretching out to you.

“I’m not… hungry,” you force yourself to say, in a plain tone.

Donghyun tilts his head. “But you like honey butter chips,” he says, already slightly pouting.

“Kim Donghyun, I’m not hungry,” you hiss, eyes glued to the television.

“Okay…” you hear him murmur, shoving the chip that he originally wanted to feed you into his own mouth. From the corner of your eyes, you see Donghyun folding the bottom of the bag so that it can stand by itself, carefully so that the chips won’t spill, before placing it next to you. He then gets up and walks away to the kitchen to cook some food, intending to give you space.

Actually, Donghyun can’t exactly cook, but he’s just standing there, at the sink, washing some fruits that he wants to cut up for you. The past few days, he’s noticed a very drastic change in your behaviour. You’re no longer smiling at him, you’re no longer talking to him about anything that comes to your mind, you’re no longer reciprocating the hugs and cuddles he’s giving. You’ve brushed off every single attempt he’s made to ask you if anything was wrong, or if he did anything that upset you.

Donghyun sighs, tying his hair up before beginning to peel some oranges.

DAY 6.

The next step of your plan begins: picking fights at the most irrelevant things, hoping that Donghyun would lose his patience.

“Can you not hug me like that?” you snark, swatting his hands away from your waist.

Donghyun widens his eyes, shocked at your sudden outburst. Normally, you wouldn’t ever decline his hugs—preferring to let him snake his arms around you as you get ready for the day, or cooking something up.

You glare at your fiancé, fiercely dabbing your makeup onto your face. It pains you to see the confused and shocked look on his face, but you have to continue. “It’s so annoying, your breaths are so sticky and it makes my neck feel hot.”

Donghyun puts his arms to his side, taking a deep breath. “Okay, angel, I’m sorry,” he says, his voice gentle. He extends his hand, patting your hair. “I’ll be showering,” he informs you before disappearing to the bathroom.

You watch him with widened eyes, taken aback by his reply.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Donghyun was supposed to be offended by your actions, not be completely calm and okay about it.

You turn around, eager to find another opportunity to piss him off.

A few moments after that, you find yourself in the kitchen with Donghyun, who’s watching you prepare breakfast. You glance at him, who’s peacefully trying to sip his morning coffee.

This is perfect timing.

Ignoring the heavy guilt weighing down on you, you slam the kitchen drawer a little harder than necessary, the sharp sound cutting through the tranquil morning.

Donghyun’s head shoots up, and his eyes immediately find you. He sets his coffee down, fingers lingering around the mug. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mutter, shoving the dirty spoon in your hands into the sink with a loud clatter.

He frowns, taking one step closer. “You seem upset.”

“I said I’m fine,” you snap, sharply turning around to face Donghyun. Pushing down the remorse you feel upon seeing his expression—a mixture of shock and worry—you continue. “Can’t I be in a bad mood without you questioning me?”

Silence.

You expect him to bite back, finally telling you that you’re being unreasonable. You know Donghyun isn’t the type to be confrontational, but considering the amount of discourtesy you’ve done to him this past week, you even expect him to get angry.

That would make it easier.

Instead, much to your surprise, Donghyun simply sighs. “Of course you can, my love,” he says softly, eyes not budging away from you.

You inhale sharply, turning your back to him before he can see the tremble in your hands.

As the week goes by with a blur of similar attempts, you begin to grow a little frustrated. A part of you just wants to tell Donghyun everything—where it hurts, how sad you feel, how you feel so worthless and in pain all the time.

Every time you glance at him, you just feel like jumping into his embrace. Every time you see a notification from him, your fingers itch to press call, to release the tension in your shoulders and the heavy guilt in your chest, to whisper the truth to him. I’m sick. I’m dying.

You’re taking the bus back home, Donghyun’s message opened but left unreplied. You stare at the message: “get home safely, my love” with a vision that blurs more and more with tears every time you blink.

The message bubble pops up again.

Donghyun’s typing.

are you okay?

you’re leaving me on read

You shut your eyes, clicking the off button on your phone. You can’t do this right now. If you let yourself answer his texts, your whole plan will crumble along with his future.

Donghyun doesn’t deserve this.

You clench your fists, fingernails digging into your palms. You force yourself to stay quiet, to freeze and not do anything.

A tear escapes down your cheek, and you let it fall.

It hurts.

But you don’t know what else to do.

DAY 13.

“I’m home,” Donghyun calls out as he closes the door behind him. The apartment is quiet, and he can only hear the air purifier working in the background.

It feels weird.

He glances at the shoe rack, spotting the pair of shoes that you chose to wear to work today already there. He bites the bottom of his lips, bending down to fix the position of your shoes. Then, quietly, he opens his own and sets them neatly next to yours.

As he makes his way to the bedroom, a million thoughts race through his head. What did he do wrong? Where did he mess up—for you to be acting so differently? He knows he isn’t the best at confrontational communication, but you’ve shrugged off all of his attempts to try.

Donghyun walks silently to your shared bedroom, and he sees you bundled up on the bed, soundly sleeping. There’s something about you, so ethereal and beautiful, even when you’re deep in slumber. Donghyun takes quiet steps towards you, coming into a halt when he’s standing right in front of you.

He exhales heavily, absorbing the view of you.

Donghyun misses you.

He misses spending hours giggling with you, talking about all the things that the two of you found interesting in this world. He misses holding you in his arms. He misses kissing you, smothering you in his affection. He misses letting you braid and play with his hair whenever you want to. He misses having you drag him around doing errands—shopping for groceries and household items, occasionally distracted by the cute blind boxes at the cash register. He misses enjoying aquarium dates with you—seeing you look at him with lovesick eyes, even though you have been to the same aquarium so many times.

He misses you, and he wonders what he’s done wrong for you to obviously avoid him like this.

Donghyun pauses, wondering if he should do it. He sighs, then leans down to give you a peck on the forehead. It’s gentle, barely there—but it’s enough for him to sustain himself through another week.

As he straightened his posture, he recalls the events that happened recently. Just this morning, when Donghyun was watching you get ready for the day, you suddenly mentioned Sanghyeok—a man who you used to be interested in, back in high school.

“I wonder what Sanghyeok is doing now,” you said. Your voice is loud—waiting for Donghyun to respond.

Donghyun buttoned his shirt, staring right at you. He remained silent, not knowing exactly what to expect out of this.

“I bet he looks even more handsome now,” you tried again, emphasizing the ‘handsome’ in your tone. You sneaked a glance at your fiancé through the vanity mirror, disappointed to see him remaining unfazed.

“Obviously,” he replied after a while. He approached you and grabbed the hair comb next to you. He continued, in a matter-of-factly tone. “Everyone gets more handsome or beautiful as they mature.”

Donghyun smiled quietly as he watched your face morph into an annoyed expression, huffily turning away.

This must be some kind of way for her to get back at me, he thought. Maybe I should try harder to get her heart back, for whatever reason she pulled away.

You stir, fingers instinctively reaching for the pillow next to you—bringing Donghyun back into the present.

Donghyun sighs, massaging his temples. He looks at you, taking in your beauty for a while, before walking away to get unready for the day—already thinking of what to order for dinner.

DAY 17.

Tomorrow is the day where you’ll accompany Donghyun to find his wedding suit, and you know he’s been aching to ask you why you’re not excitedly talking to him about it yet. He’s been hovering around you—not quite standing or sitting next to you, but rather, he’s around you—the corner of his mouth twitching as he bites back his words.

You’ve been quite excited, actually. You’ve been saving a lot of photos, trying to get an idea of what would make your fiancé look flattering on your wedding day. You were dying to talk to him about, endlessly rambling to him about the countless designs out there—but you’re reminded of your condition, the fact that you’re sick and dying, every time you glance at him and imagine him in a wedding suit.

That’s the only reason that’s keeping you together, holding you back from unleashing your true feelings.

Donghyun found his courage to ask you when the two of you are sitting at the dining table, eating some take-out ramen that he ordered for dinner.

“About tomorrow…” Donghyun begins, slowly chewing the contents of his mouth. “We’ll be going… right? Together?”

You take a deep breath, putting on your act. You look up from your food, eyes bored. “Do you not want to?”

“No– no, it’s not like that, angel,” Donghyun stammers, almost choking on his food. “I’m just wondering… because you haven’t talked about it all week. You…”

He pauses, and he holds his gaze for a few moments.

“You usually get excited about these things,” he continues softly.

“About what?” you ask sharply, heart sinking at the way you’re treating him.

Donghyun shrugs. The look in his eyes is cracking your heart into pieces, but you brave yourself to keep the glare on. “You know, about doing things together. With me.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, breaking the gaze Donghyun is holding. You turn to your food, holding back your tears by aggressively poking holes in your fishcakes.

“Angel,” he calls, and you hate how you instantly perk up at the nickname. Your eyes slightly widen at how he’s smiling so adorably, his boba eyes sparkling against the reflection of the lamps. “Do you remember? Our first date.”

The memory of one of the happiest days of your life, dated seven years ago, tugs hard against your chest, some kind of heavy feeling going up to your throat. “Yes,” you croak, avoiding his gaze.

“I still remember how nervous I was, waiting for you in front of your parents’ house with flowers in my hands. It was really awesome—the feeling of waiting for you outside, knowing that I’ll be spending the entire day with you,” Donghyun pauses as he laughs, the corner of his eyes crinkling with happiness.

You swallow thickly, forcing yourself to stay stoic.

“I was eighteen—we were eighteen—still young and dumb, but I knew, the moment you stepped out the door looking so beautiful in your light pink dress, that you’re the person I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

You shut your eyes, lowering down your head. As tears begin to collect at the edges of your eyes and Donghyun’s voice begins to blur in the background, you curse yourself and your fate.

Why did it have to be like this?

What did you ever do wrong to be given such a cruel future?

Why did it have to be you?

DAY 21.

You’re sure that you heard the doctor right the last time—that you had around three months to live. But now, with every single day that passes, you feel like your body is physically getting ripped away from you, little by little. Your appetite decreases with every passing day, your energy and mood swings vary by a significant manner.

Every time you notice this, the more adamant you are in your plan. You have to make Donghyun leave, even if it breaks you in the process.

You have 9 days left of your plan.

You’ve been more consistent and put more effort into your scheme, despite Donghyun being calm and still loving through it all.

You sigh deeply, standing at the sink as you wash out your mug after drinking honey lemon water. You’re coughing very often now, and you often find yourself out of breath yet in pain multiple times. You feel Donghyun’s presence behind you, and it’s feeling heavier than usual. You’re done washing your mug, but you rinse it a couple more times to pretend that everything’s fine.

As soon as you close the water tap, Donghyun opens his mouth.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

His voice is calm—way too calm.

You glance at him, setting your mug down, your body still turned away from him. It’s a bit weird that Donghyun is confronting you now, but given the duration that your plan has been going on, you figure that he’s reached the peak of his patience.

“I’ve been busy, that’s all.”

A quick moment of silence goes by. Then, “You’re lying.”

You inhale sharply, momentarily shutting your eyes close. But you don’t turn to face him.

The sharp sound of a chair scraping against the tiled floor startles you. You quickly turn around and it’s Donghyun, pulling a chair out—but he doesn’t sit. Instead, he rests against it, his hand gripping tightly on its backrest.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice quieter. “What are you not telling me?”

You avert your gaze, swallowing densely. Say it. Make him hate you once and for all.

“I…” you clear your throat, trying your best to sound indifferent. “I’m done, Donghyun. I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Silence.

For a moment, you’re hoping—silently praying, even—that he would just walk away. That he would accept your words and take his leave.

Then, in a voice so quiet it’s almost a whisper, Donghyun says, “say it again.”

You widen your eyes, turning to him. Startled, you blurt out, “what?”

The guilt that’s pushing down your chest doubles even more as Donghyun is staring at you. His jaw clenched, and his eyes dark with something that you’ve never seen in him before—hurt, anger, and utter disbelief.

“Say it again.”

Your lips part, but you can’t force anything out.

“You’re lying,” Donghyun says, with no softness in his voice this time. “But let’s pretend you’re not.”

He takes a step forward, and suddenly you’re trapped between him and the kitchen counters. “Say it again, Y/N,” he whispers, almost begging, “look at me this time.”

Shakily, you force yourself with all your might to meet his gaze, tears beginning to form.

Say it, Y/N. Make him hate you.

Make him leave.

“I–” your voice cracks.

Donghyun stands in front of you, still like a stone. He doesn’t blink, nor does he say anything. He stands there, waiting, patient like he always is.

Your hands begin to tremble at your side, and with one deep breath, you let it out before you can’t anymore.

“I don’t love you anymore,” you whisper, forcing your shaky gaze to connect to Donghyun. The fact that it’s a lie pains you ten times more than it should have—you exhale, biting your lips to cover how terribly you’re trembling.

Donghyun exhales deeply. For a moment, you think he’s about to laugh. But instead, he looks away, shaking his head.

“Okay, fine,” he nods, his voice too steady. “Then tell me, why are you still wearing the ring?”

Your blood turns to ice.

“If you don’t love me anymore,” Donghyun repeats, and one by one, his words sting your heart. “Tell me why you’re still wearing the ring.”

Your hand flies to the hand with the engagement ring, trying to hide it, but you’re too slow. He’s already seen it.

Donghyun laughs, short and humourless. “You can’t even take it off, can you?”

Feeling harshly attacked, you look away.

Donghyun runs a hand over his face, slowly sighing. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he says, his voice lower now, and it’s clear that he’s exhausted. “But if what you’re doing is to protect me from whatever, it’s not working.”

His words cause a pang to your heart.

“It’s not like that—” You grit your teeth, starting to internally panic. “You don’t understand–”

“Then make me understand!”

Your breath hitches.

Donghyun didn’t yell—not really—but for a man who never raises his voice, and would try his best to solve things calmly without conflict— his outburst might as well be a scream.

The rawness in his voice makes your heart ache even more.

But the sharp pain in your lungs reminds you of everything—you can’t let him in.

You turn quickly, to hide the sudden stream of tears flowing down your cheeks. “There’s nothing to understand,” you quietly say, biting your quivering lips.

A long silence, accompanied by palpable tension, stretches between the two of you.

When Donghyun finally speaks, his voice is quieter than before. “Okay.”

You force your eyes shut, biting back sobs as you hear him walk away, the sound of the door closing echoing in the apartment.

And when the sound of his footsteps disappeared, you let yourself sink to the floor in heavy sobs, your body trembling like crazy.

THE next few days go by like usual—Donghyun acts like nothing happened—but the only difference is you can clearly see the hurt in his eyes. He’s still loving: he brings back home your favourite food, opens the door for you, and makes sure you’re always comfortable.

You’re still trying your best to carry out your plan.

“Stop, Donghyun,” you say, albeit your voice is shaky. Donghyun, who’s silently peeling out shrimp skin from its flesh for you, pauses. He looks up—though he doesn’t say anything.

“We’re too different. You shouldn’t be with me.”

Donghyun takes a deep breath, and a few seconds later, he replies. “What’s so different about us, angel?”

Angel.

The nickname stings like lemon juice on a fresh paper cut.

“I…” you force a laugh, but it cracks at the edges. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re too different, Donghyun. We have always been—you like quiet nights in, I like going out,”

Lie. You never really minded the difference: you and Donghyun completed each other like you’re each other’s missing piece.

“You like stability, but I’m too restless for you. We… we’re just too different,” you gesture vaguely, trying not to let Donghyun hear the tremble in your voice. “Maybe we just… got carried away with the idea of us.”

Donghyun puts aside the shrimp he’s deskinning, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. His voice maddeningly tranquil, he says, “you don’t mean that.”

Your throat burns with the trace of your words.

He’s making this hard. Too hard than what it’s supposed to be.

“I do,” you lie.

Donghyun closes his mouth, studying you with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he exhales slowly. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N.”

Your breath catches.

“No–”

“You can push me all you want, as hard as you want,” Donghyun continues, his voice softer than before, “but I’m staying, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.”

The walls you carefully constructed around your heart begin to crack and crumble. Desperation claws frantically against your chest.

Why can’t he just let go?

You repeatedly shake your head, turning away, blinking rapidly as your vision begins to blur with tears. “You should,” you whisper, though it’s more to yourself. “You really should.”

Donghyun stays silent for quite some time, before leaning forward to gently caress your hair. You pull away, knowing that he isn’t leaving. Not now. Not ever.

DAY 27.

Donghyun stirs, blinking rapidly as the surroundings become clearer to him. He stretches his arms, tensing as he comes into contact with your sleeping figure. He sits up, and shifts his gaze towards you, your form accentuated by the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

There’s something wrong.

Donghyun knows—he just doesn’t exactly get what it is.

You’ve been so off—too distant—this past month, and knowing you for almost a decade, Donghyun realises that whatever is causing your behaviour change is serious.

He knows that it’s either him or something else.

But what did he do?

Donghyun quietly jumps off the bed, tiptoeing out of the room to get some water to drink. His mind is clouded with worry for you these days, he can barely sleep at night—with no one to share his warmth with, no one to talk to until one of you snoozes off, no one to braid his hair until one of you falls asleep.

He walks to the kitchen, his attempt at being quiet largely failing due to him yelping after stubbing his toes into the dining table. He switches a few of the lights on, still quiet, then he walks over to the kitchen to grab himself some water.

Everything was ordinary, except a few things laid out messily on the kitchen island.

Packets of medicine he’s never seen before, and a thin stack of papers scattered around the top of the island.

Curious, Donghyun peeks at the words printed on the label of the plastic packets, bringing the glass of water he’s holding to his lips.

Y/N L/N.

Aspirin.

Antidepressants.

Anti-seizure.

Steroids.

Morphine tablets.

His heart begins to beat loudly against his chest, blood rushing to his head. He quickly turns to the stack of papers, after checking through the packets of medicine.

Y/N L/N. Lung Cancer. Stage 4 (Severe).

Donghyun freezes, and the glass cup he’s holding slips through his fingers without notice.

His mind swirls with a million different emotions—he’s confused, in shock and fear, as well as a touch of deep betrayal.

His eyes read through the words on the papers again. A storm of emotions rain on him—he can’t believe it. It can’t be.

All of the memories he shared with you—both happy and sad—replays in his mind. From the moment he first laid his eyes on you, donkey years ago; your numerous dates together, hours spent with love and giggles; him proposing to you, and moving in together—planning and envisioning your life together. Then, a sudden flood of memories flush through, replaying the moments and conversations from the past month where you tried to push him away.

Now, everything clicks together in the right place.

Now, Donghyun understands why.

You were trying to make him leave for the future he deserved, for a better future without the burden of loving someone who was dying.

Donghyun feels his shoulders trembling ever so slightly, his vision beginning to blur with tears. He notices the broken glass cup on the floor, but his head is spinning too fast for him to comprehend it all.

Donghyun feels his heart pounding in his chest, creating a heavy rhythm that drowned out everything else around him. You’d tried to push him away—tried to make him fall out of love with you, to untangle him from a future with you, all in an anguished attempt to protect him from the unavoidable pain that is now coming for them. Donghyun feels like him not seeing this coming should have relieved him in some twisted way.

However, the reality coming from the document in front of him hits like a tidal wave. Anger begins to flare within him—he’s mad at you for trying to shield him from this, irritated for the way you drown him in doubt, distance, and wondering whether he was truly losing you even before he knew the reason behind it all, for the past month.

Yet, the anger and hurt begins to wash away as his eyes, still blurred from his tears that couldn’t yet fall, lands on a framed picture of the two of you on the wall.

You were glowing—the sparkle of the starry night sky glittering in your eyes, a loving smile on your face. Next to you was Donghyun, kissing the top of your hair, his heart swelling with love and gratitude.

It was the night of his proposal. The night you said yes.

Yes to a future together. Yes to loving each other through all the highs and lows.

A tear drops down Donghyun’s face, tracing the curve of his features in a silent surrender.

He understands.

How could he not?

Somehow, he knows that fear must have gotten the best of you, driving you to make such a selfish decision. He knows that you’re terrified—terrified to watch him suffer, to drag him into a future filled with nothing but grief and pain that no one should ever have to endure.

Donghyun knows that you’re trying to protect him—making the hardest decision to leave him with the hollow ache of your absence, hoping that he’d move on long before you had to physically leave this world.

His chest tightens with the realisation and the weight of his beloved’s sacrifice.

Donghyun glances, again, at the document stating your diagnosis on the kitchen counter.

It’s hard to come to terms with this new reality, shoved to his face like a rejection he doesn’t even have time to process.

It’s hard, but Donghyun’s love is undeniable. He feels it burning through the tangles of hurt, confusion and anger in his heart, leaving him with one overwhelming truth: he won’t leave. Not now. Not ever.

The vision of you smiling brightly appears in front of his eyes, the melody of your laughter ringing in his ears.

His heart begins to beat in a steady manner, and he’s never felt as sure before—the only other time being the moment, after taking you out for the first time, that he’s sure of a future with you.

I’m not going anywhere. I choose you, Y/N.

I’ll always choose you.

I choose us, even in this.

A wave of urgency suddenly washes through him—and it’s almost a frantic need to reassure you. Donghyun clutches his chest. He can’t let you believe, even for a second longer, that you’ll watch him walk away, leaving you to face this battle alone. He’s not going to abandon you—not when you need him the most.

The slightest, faintest shiver moves through him, betraying the calm he’s trying to maintain for so long. No sound escapes his lips, just a quiet sob.

And so, as the reality of his fiancée’s diagnosis begins to settle into the deepest marrows of his bones, he realises that the future that the two of you had once planned is no longer a guarantee. It’s fragile now, but a future with you is still one. The future still belongs to you and Donghyun, hand in hand. And he would fight to hold on to it, even if it meant facing the darkness together.

DAY 28.

“Y/N, I’m home,” Donghyun calls out, mentally preparing himself for another ‘mood swing’ of yours. However, when he swings the door to your shared apartment open, he finds himself in shock at the way it’s dark.

Panic begins to kick in. Donghyun looks around—your shoes are here, your coat is hanging, still damp from the year’s first snow.

“Angel?” Donghyun calls again, the tremble in his voice beginning to rise.

He kicks his shoes off and scrambles to every corner of the house, trying to find you. He looks for you in every nook and cranny—sharply turning when he spots light coming from the bottom of the bathroom door. He rushes there, but comes into a halt when he hears a sob.

You press your forehead against the bathroom mirror, your hot breath creating a cloud of fog on its surface. Gripping the edge of the sink as tight as you possibly could, you try to push in the panic that’s resurfacing, after keeping on a facade for the entire day.

At first, it was just a tiny tremor, a quiver barely noticeable in your chest as you try to keep your breathing calm amidst all the physical pain. Your eyes are glassy and distant, staring at nothing in particular. The tears are heavy, clinging to your eyelashes, refusing to fall. But with every blink, with every pained heave, a new wave erupts through you, and the tears threaten to fall. You press your lips tightly together, your fingers tightening their grip on the edge of the sink, trying to fiercely silence the sobs that will likely escape, but the quiet, desperate hitch in your breath betrays you.

The tears flow down your cheeks like a river carving its way through thick solid rock, free, warm and unwelcome. You press your forehead harder against the stinging cold mirror, as though you’re trying to push the tears back in. Your throat tightens, a soft sob jerking at the bottom of your chest. You bite the bottom of your lip so hard it might rip apart, your entire body stiffening in an attempt to halt a flood that’s quickly becoming too impossible to stop.

But it slips out of you anyway—a quiet, pained sob that escaped before you could even stop it, followed by another, and another, and then a louder, desperate gasp for air. Your shoulders begin to rise up and down in an effort to stifle the sound, but each aching breath makes it harder. Your chest begins to heave, your hands trembling against the freezing surface of the sink, unable to stop the heavy storm of tears raining from your eyes.

Your attempts to remain composed are long gone now, swallowed up by the weight of it all. And though you still tried to suppress it, your anguish cries fills the apartment with a rawness that she can’t deny, can’t conceal, no matter how hard you fight it.

“Angel?”

No.

You shake your head, tears mercilessly streaming down your cheeks.

I need to stop crying.

You harshly wipe the tears on your cheeks with the back of your hand, exhaling shakily.

A soft knock comes from the door.

“Y/N?”

You close your eyes shut. Not now. Please.

You hear the doorknob turn, and tears begin to well up again.

“I’m coming in.”

Before you could turn and stop in, Donghyun is already inside the bathroom, standing in front of you. His eyes immediately find you, locking to the sight of your tear-streaked face and trembling hands.

His expression softens. “Hey,” he says, “talk to me.”

You shake your head. “Donghyun, please,” you say, your voice croaky. “Just go.”

Donghyun steps closer, determination masking the hurt in his eyes. His warmth begins to blanket around you.

“No.”

You suck in a sharp breath, wincing at the pain. “You have to.”

“Why?”

Donghyun frowns, his hand already halfway there, his first instinct is to hold you as soon as he sees you in pain.

You turn to face him, the walls of your plan that you’ve constructed crumbling down the moment your eyes meet his. For the first time, you let him see it all—the overwhelming pain. The fear. The exhaustion. The unbearable weight of what’s to come.

“Y/N–” he says, his own voice cracking.

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head slowly. You want to give up. You want to run into his arms. You want to tell him everything. You want to cry your heart out to someone you love so dearly with your heart, someone who you know will never judge you for anything at all.

But a part of you still refuses to force upon him a painful future.

“You deserve someone who has a future.”

“Love, what are you talking about–?”

“I’m dying, Donghyun,” you exclaim, choking on your tears. You can’t hold it in any longer, the truth slipping out without realisation. “I’m dying.”

Your words hang in the air, heavy and sharp like shattered glass.

Donghyun stands there, not saying anything.

For a long time, neither of you moves. Neither of you says anything. Just holding each other’s gaze, a storm of emotions swirling behind each of your eyes.

Then, quietly, Donghyun reaches out, pulling you into his embrace. You could feel his body trembling as he hugs you tight, his touch gentle, but at the same time, it feels desperate. It’s like you’d disappear if he let go.

He pulls away slightly after, cupping your face tenderly. “You’re not in this alone,” he says, his voice steady, contrasting the evident quiver of his hands.

Again, tears slip down your cheeks. “You should hate me.”

Your mind flips through the book of everything that you’ve done to him this month. It broke your heart, over and over again, doing each and every detail of your plan, but you know that it broke your fiancé even more.

“I love you,” Donghyun murmurs. “And I’m staying. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your shoulders tremble as your hands find their grip on Donghyun’s arms, burying your face in his chest. His arms immediately find their way around you, pulling you closer. His heartbeat steady against yours, you let yourself cry in his arms for the first since the diagnosis.

DAY 30.

You spent the entire day, after confessing the partial truth to Donghyun, sleeping and resting. You feel so fatigued, not even having the mood to text your boss that you’d be taking an off day. You opened your eyes only to shut your alarm off, and woke up around midday, finding out that your lovely fiancé emailed your boss for you, applying for two days off. He took two days off, too, claiming that he wants to spend all his hours with you.

It’s the next day, and you wake up to Donghyun scrolling through something in his laptop, a serious frown on his face. It’s still partially dark in the apartment, the only source of light being your bedside lamp and Donghyun’s laptop.

“Donghyun,” you say, immediately clearing your throat after that, feeling dry.

Donghyun perks up, turning to you. He smiles, softly pressing his lips against your forehead. He adjusts the position of his bluelight glasses on his nose. “Good morning, angel. Why are you up so early? It’s only 6 in the morning.”

You glare at him. “Why are you up so early?”

Donghyun giggles, and it makes your stomach erupt in butterflies despite you trying to maintain the glare on your face. He puts an arm around your shoulder, letting you scoot closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“Look, I’ve been researching… and I think we should move to the countryside. I saw a really good house in Boseong-gun,” he says, and his words drop like a bomb.

Your eyes bulge almost immediately. “What? Kim Donghyun,” you gasp. “What are you thinking? Where do we get the money?”

Donghyun continues, his eyes to the screen. “I’m thinking of selling this apartment,” he says with a serious expression, telling you that he’s not joking at all.

Your heart almost jumps out of your chest. You gasp, hitting his arm. “Kim Donghyun! What the hell—what were you thinking? Why?”

Donghyun purses his lips. “I… think it’s for the best. You need fresh air—you need something way better than,” he gestures with his hands, “all this city garbage. It’s quiet there, and I think we’ll both like it.”

You’re too shocked to reply. You adjust your position to be sitting properly, locking eyes with your fiancé. He looks at you, his gaze strong and unwavering, and that is enough for you to know that he’s already made up his mind. He’s not playing around.

“I don’t know,” you sigh. “Is it okay, though? You work here, and Boseong-gun is almost four hours away.”

“I have my resignation letter ready to be sent in,” Donghyun replies like it’s the easiest thing in the world for him.

You look away, not knowing what to say. His suggestion hangs in the air, and you’re swamped in confusion and disbelief. It seems too sudden and out of place—like a happy ending Donghyun is trying to harshly paint over your doomed future.

The silence between you and Donghyun stretches long and thick as you process the weight of the words he just uttered.

Four hours.

Four hours away from everything you’ve known—the life you’ve built together with Donghyun, for so many years, in the city.

You throw your gaze out the window, the colourful glistening of the city lights suddenly seeming so wistful. The sweeping view of the city skyline reminds you of the dreams you’ve conceived together, the shared moments of heartfelt laughter and quiet mornings—it was once a symbol of your guaranteed future, happy and secure with Donghyun, of success, ambition and togetherness.

The thought of suddenly leaving all this behind makes your stomach turn.

You turn back to him, and the look on his face is hopeful, almost eager. You feel like moving to the countryside is like an escape—a way to try and shield yourself from your illness and the misfortune that comes with it. You hope you could run away from it, you wish you could outrun it—but the entire idea feels like a paradox that’s laughing at your face: a desperate, unwise attempt to outrun your cruel fate.

Life in the countryside sounds ideally peaceful, but would you even find peace there?

You widen your eyes, realising.

You wait for him to say something following that, but he stays silent, waiting for your reply.

Does he know?

The words hang in the air, slowly settling down between the two of you.

You bite the bottom of your lips to hide the slight tremble in them.

You want to fight back. Want to push him away again, knowing that he’s undeserving of such short-lived happiness just to be with you.

But you’re exhausted, and you know Donghyun won’t take no for an answer, no matter how gentle he’d be with it.

“Okay,” you nod, and the look of silent gratitude on Donghyun’s face tells you the truth.

He probably knows.

EVERYTHING felt like a blur, and it’s comfortingly quick. Donghyun made sure to arrange everything well, and fortunately, nothing went wrong. The two of you had around two weeks to pack all of your things, say goodbye to family and friends, and send in your resignation letters to your respective workplaces. On the last day the two of you were in Seoul, Donghyun had brought you around to all your favourite places in the city—the cat cafe you frequented whenever you had the chance, the Seoul Forest, the river, and parks that you and Donghyun often went on picnics at.

You laughed a lot—reminiscing on the memories made at each place. You’re with Donghyun now, just like you were in the memories you cherish, but the two of you have grown along with your feelings. Your love for each other has grown bigger and bigger each day, and you’d do anything for Donghyun.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the cherry blossoms,” Donghyun says, his voice soft. You buckle your seatbelt, perking an eyebrow at him.

“What are you talking about?”

Donghyun starts the car, sighing. “You love seeing the cherry blossoms at Seokchon Lake,” he says. “But you won’t be able to see them this year…”

The reality that you’re moving away from the city you’ve known as your home for the longest time hits you. The reality that you’re never coming back in the future hits you, too.

Nevertheless, you smile.

“It’s okay,” you reply, surprised by your own positivity. “Maybe we’ll get to see the ones at our new place? They must be beautiful.”

Donghyun kisses your temples, smiling softly.

“Let’s go?”

You look at him for a while before nodding, feeling a rush of goosebumps as you’re turning to a new leaf in your life.

The days at your new house, overlooking a beautiful meadow of green tea fields and an orchard, are more delightful than you thought it’d be. You spent your first few days decorating your newly bought house. Despite feeling a little out of place, the change of scenery and air makes you feel weirdly healthier and happier.

You decide that you’re going to be painting the house to your liking. You brought up the idea to Donghyun two days ago, and he had happily agreed—bringing you to the town’s paintshop to hunt for some paint that you’d like.

Today, you decide that you’re going to be painting your shared bedroom walls with a personal touch—a baby blue base shade filled with little paintings of stars, flowers, and significant objects from memories you shared with Donghyun, capturing details in cute colours.

Donghyun helps you with everything and anything that he can help with. After bringing up the set of paintbrushes you ask for, he quietly reaches for a paint brush for himself and starts painting, even though it’s quite evident that he’s not too good at it.

Being the ever silent observer, Donghyun didn’t tell you that he was going to help painting, and you too don’t notice him until you turn around and see him painting what you think might be a gummy bear. Though, you’re not too sure if it’s a gummy bear or a group of red blobs that kind of look like mushy tomatoes.

“Donghyun,” you say, already snorting. “What’s that supposed to be, sweetheart?”

He turns, seriously explaining his work of art to you. “It’s a gummy bear! Remember the first time we sat together at lunch, during our sophomore year of high school? You looked like you were about to cry from that Biology test, so I gave you one–” he pauses, narrowing his eyes as laughter begins to crack your demeanor. “Why are you laughing?”

“It looks like tomatoes,” you giggle, and Donghyun’s eyes widen.

“It’s not!” he huffs. “It’s clearly a gummy bear, Y/N–look, here’s the ears.”

You just can’t stop giggling—he’s too cute and his ‘paintings’ are too hilarious for you to hold yourself back, despite the stinging pain in your lungs.

Swiftly, Donghyun dabs a streak of baby blue paint across your nose.

“What the–hey!”

“Oops.”

You look around, immediately retaliating by smearing a yellow streak of paint across his cheek, and soon, the two of you are deep in laughter, tickling and smearing paint on each other, covered in messy colours.

For a moment, you’re not thinking of the looming future.

For a moment, you’re laughing to your heart’s content, happy in Donghyun’s presence.

ONE night, Donghyun suddenly suggests that the two of you should have supper on the rooftop while watching the stars. Winter is about to reach its peak, and you know how cold it’d be—but you know you can’t resist spending time with your beloved fiancé.

“I’ll be right back,” he says to you after handing you a basket filled with midnight snacks, running back into the house.

Donghyun then reappears, carrying a few thick blankets and pillows. After setting everything up, he pulls you into his arms, and you’re immediately bundled up in the warmth of your coat, the blankets, and your fiancé’s embrace.

He wraps you in his arms as the two of you lie together underneath the breathtaking night sky.

“It’s really pretty here!” you say, smiling excitedly. “You can see the stars even more clearly compared to the city.”

“Yeah,” Donghyun nods, his breath tickling warmly against your skin.

You smile fondly, your heart blossoming with the most pleasant feelings as you gaze at the vast sky, a canvas filled with shimmering stars, each with their own story. And the two of you are sharing a moment, quiet with no rush—just the two of you, enjoying snacks and each other’s presence.

The quiet hum of the world fades around the two of you, and it’s just you and Donghyun and the occasional crunch of a snack.

Your eyes lay upon the sparkling constellations, quietly recalling some of their names that you still remembered from high school.

“Remember when we used to talk about space?” you murmur, shifting to make yourself more comfortable in Donghyun’s arms.

“Is this when we were both obsessed with stars, back when we learnt about them in high school?” Donghyun chuckles.

You nod.

“You really wanted to become an astronaut, to see the stars more clearly,” he recalls.

“Yeah,” you say, suddenly feeling a little sad. “Guess that didn’t work out.”

“Hey, you can still go,” Donghyun kisses the top of your head. He points to the sky. “Just not in the way you imagined.”

You nudge him. “That’s depressing.”

“What? We’ll all die one day—”

You smack his chest. “Shut up, Donghyun.”

He chuckles, and then, the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, going back to watching the stars twinkle.

“You know… I think I’m okay with all this,” you whisper, grabbing his hand. Donghyun interlaces your fingers together, his thumb caressing the back of your hand gently. “If the rest of my life is spent like this… with you.”

Donghyun squeezes your hand. “Me too, angel.”

YOU’RE sitting in the living room, sipping on hot chocolate by the window. You gulp, feeling odd. You’re sick, you know that, but it feels weird to feel your body getting progressively weaker and weaker with every passing day. After swallowing all the needed medication, you felt too tired to be doing anything around the house. You asked Donghyun for a hot chocolate, feeling a little weird as a simple task like making yourself a hot chocolate feels so draining now. And then, here you are, watching the snow fall onto earth outside your window.

Suddenly, you feel like playing in the snow. The cold snow stinging against your skin, making your ears and nose red feels strangely comforting. You take a final sip of your drink before walking towards the coat rack, sliding your arms into a thick winter coat. Albeit slow, you still push yourself to make your way to the coat rack, even though you’re moving more slowly than you used to.

Donghyun, who is in the kitchen trying to figure out how to cook chicken soup, sees you wearing your winter boots. His eyes widen, and he leaves his station, immediately rushing to you.

“Where are you going, love?” he asks, hands gently holding your arms.

You bring your hair out of your coat. “Outside?”

“You’ll get sick,” he says, pouting.

You give him a mischievous smile, already reaching for the door. “Too late for that.”

Donghyun lets go of you, though he’s walking behind you, following your steps. He watches as you amble out to the front lawn of your house, looking so in awe of the snow. You unknowingly smile, loving the feeling of snowflakes decorating your hair. You slowly crouch down, and as your hands touch the fresh snow, you feel like you’re not doomed to death in the near future. It’s like a refreshing break, and you don’t have to think about your future.

It’s just you, Donghyun, and the things you love.

Busy rolling mini snowballs to make miniature snowmen, you feel a scarf wrapped around your neck. You look up, and see Donghyun softly smiling at you, snowflakes adoring his dark brown hair. He hands you a pair of knitted gloves.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks.

You glance at your fingers, numbly red. “Kind of. But this feels good.”

Donghyun shakes his head, the smile on his face betraying his disapproval. He grabs your hand and gently puts the gloves on. “There, much better.”

You laugh at the way he’s so stubborn sometimes, and it’s the happiest sound Donghyun has ever heard. His eyes widen slightly, and his throat suddenly feels dry.

He crouches next to you, pulling you close to him. He turns to the army of mini snowmen you made, chuckling. “They are so cute.”

You simply giggle, already making another one. Donghyun turns his head to look at you, the snowflakes falling gently around you, each one landing on your hair, your lashes dusted with white. As he’s watching you hum happily to yourself, shaping the snow in your hands, he’s completely captivated by the way snow settles around you. The wind has a gentle bite to it, making your nose red against the cold. But you seem unfazed, eyes sparkling as you place another ball of snow on the snowman’s body.

Donghyun smiles.

You’re so beautiful, even when the world is blanketed in white, even when it’s so freezing cold outside.

I’m the luckiest person in the world.

YOU grunt, hating how getting out of bed feels so hard to do now. You’ve slept for almost twelve hours, but you can’t seem to get enough rest. Your breaths are evidently more shallow and laboured now, but you try your best everyday—pulling yourself out of bed to see Donghyun.

God knows when it’ll be the last time you see him.

It’s already noon, and you’re walking downstairs, in Donghyun’s hoodie, groggy and ridiculously out of energy. You find Donghyun in the kitchen, looking somehow stressed that half his pancakes are burnt.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you say, throwing your arms around Donghyun’s waist, burying your face into his back.

You feel his tense posture relax slightly. “Good morning, love. Are you hungry?”

“A bit..” you answer. “But I don’t feel like eating.”

“You should eat,” Donghyun says, turning around as he swiftly presses a kiss to your forehead. “Do you want pancakes?”

You press your lips into a thin line, contemplating. Your appetite has decreased significantly, and heartbreakingly, you don’t find yourself enjoying the foods you used to love as much anymore.

You shake your head. You don’t think you can swallow pancakes down anymore.

Donghyun tilts his head. He hums. “Do you wanna cook something together? Maybe mac-and-cheese?”

You nod.

“That sounds good,” you say, albeit feeling like your appetite might decline like all the other meals that you’ve tried before.

The two of you then begin to cook—Donghyun insists on being the one mostly doing all the technical stuff, letting you instruct him around. He’s not too great with the kitchen, and with the better cook in your relationship supervising, disaster still strikes.

“Did you just put the sugar instead of salt?” you ask, horrified.

Donghyun gasps, stammering. “Oh my god. I did.”

He stares, not blinking, at the mac-and-cheese simmering on the stove, its taste completely ruined. You stare at him. Then the two of you burst into laughter.

“I think we should stick to you being the chef,” Donghyun says, wiping his eyes.

“Agreed,” you laugh.

The two of you end up redoing the entire recipe again, this time with more care which causes you to eat lunch in the late afternoon, but neither of you mind.

YOU find yourself slowly stepping down the stairs, loving the smell of coffee going around, accompanied by the chirp of birds outside. You make your way into the kitchen, trying you best to steady your breath. You watch as Donghyun hums softly as he puts together a bowl of greek yogurt and berries, completely at ease.

You take a mental picture—this moment, this warmth, this love.

“Good morning, my love,” Donghyun smiles at you when he finally notices you staring at him from the dining table. “What’s up?”

You shake your head with a smile. “Nothing. Just… I love you, Donghyun. I… thank you for everything.”

Donghyun walks over to you and sets down the mugs of coffee he’s holding, pressing a kiss to your nose. “I love you too, angel, so much.”

And for a little while, everything feels normal.

BUT it’s not. Nothing is normal.

Donghyun noticed everything. The way your laughter lingers around for much longer each time it escapes you. The way you’re speaking less, like it costs you so much pain to be voicing your thoughts out. The way your every movement is much slower, more deliberate, and he can clearly see the toll that each action is taking on you. The way that your face gets paler every passing day, the way that your eyes are sometimes empty and distant, reflecting the battle you’re going through inside. The way that there’s an almost palpable sadness in your gaze—no matter how hard you try to mask it—as if you’re mourning everything that’s being taken away from you, but you’re trying to still hold to whatever’s left of your energy to make the best of things and people you love, for a final conversation, a last connection.

At first, Donghyun tries his best to convince himself that it’s nothing. That you’re going to heal. That you’re going to make it, that you’re going to grow old with him.

But deep down, he knows.

He notices the way your voice, once steady and confident, now weakens. He knows that, in every moment you’re awake and aware, you might be sharing a few words and smiles, but it’s evident that you’re slipping away, little by little.

The space around you becomes quieter without your giggles, you’re less active and you get more tired easily, resting longer than usual.

Donghyun is in agony, but he knows whatever pain he’s feeling is so small compared to yours. It’s a painful, gradual process that he knows will leave him feeling helpless, watching someone he so deeply cares about wither in ways he can’t control.

After a day of gardening and giggling together in your orchard, Donghyun notices you faltering more rapidly than normal. The two of you are eating dinner together, when suddenly, your breath hitches sharply. You cough—once, twice. Then, it doesn’t stop.

Donghyun immediately gets off his chair and rushes to your side, rubbing comforting circles on your back. But then, he sees it. Blood. On your lips. On your sleeve.

Your smile disappears.

“Y/N–” Donghyun tries to say, but his voice comes out in a whisper, cracked and vulnerable.

“I’m fine,” you say too quickly, wiping at your mouth like it’s nothing. Like you’re not falling apart right in front of him, right in his arms.

But Donghyun catches the immediate fear in your eyes.

The next day, it happens again. After an evening of cosy stargazing and laying in each other’s embrace, you get up too quickly, and the next thing Donghyun knows—you’re on the ground.

For a second, Donghyun freezes.

“Y/N?”

You blink up at him, dazed. Then, you offer him a weak laugh. “I’m okay, I’m fine. Just… got dizzy.”

But when he helps you up, he can’t help but notice how your weight is heavier than before. And he feels it—just how fragile you’ve become.

He grips you tighter as he leads you to the bedroom.

Later that night, Donghyun can’t fall asleep. Instead, he quietly sits down, his hand still intertwined with yours. He watches you sleep, the reality of your future sinking harshly into him.

The warmth of the happy memories he’s made with you, from the first time he knew you, still lingers, but there’s something else now—a quiet, suffocating dread.

You’re slipping away.

And no matter how many memories he’s going to make with you, it won’t change the inevitable. It won’t change anything.

For the first time since this started—Donghyun feels something rise up his throat. Anger.

At fate, at the universe. At you, for thinking that you could hide this from him.

He clenches his jaw, tears threatening to fall.

How could he ever let you go?

DAY 62.

The next morning, when the sun is just about to peek from the horizon, Donghyun is woken up by the sound of you gasping in pain. He immediately is awake, shocked to find you coughing out blood and panting for breath.

He jumps off the bed, frantically trying to switch on the bedside lamp to see you better. You’re gasping for breath, each inhale weaker than the last. Donghyun kneels beside the bed, his trembling hands gripping yours tightly.

“S-stay with me,” he pleads, his voice shaking. “Just a little longer.”

Your lips tremble into a small smile. You shake your head slowly. “I’m… sorry… sweetheart.”

“No, you can. You always could,” his hands tighten around yours, as if he’s trying to physically hold your soul down. As if he can physically keep you here by sheer will alone. “Just hold on, Y/N. Please. I’ll-I’ll go get your medicine, I’ll get the doctor—just stay. Hold on for me.”

You reach up, brushing your trembling fingers against his cheek. “Donghyun…”

He leans into your touch, his eyes burning with unshed tears.

“I—” you swallow painfully. It’s time to admit it all. “I thought… I could make you hate me. I tried.”

His lips part, a dry, humourless laugh escaping. “I know.”

“I didn’t want you to suffer.”

“I don’t care,” he whispers fiercely as tears begin to force their way down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will always choose you, over and over again.”

Your eyes begin to glisten, and your hand falls back to your side. “You’re always stubborn.”

“And you were always reckless,” he murmurs, his voice breaking.

You exhale softly, letting your body relax into the pillow. “Donghyun?”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks, his face wet with tears.

“Don’t… forget me.”

A choked sob escapes Donghyun and he presses his forehead against yours. Salty tears fall from his eyes, dripping onto your face. “Never, angel, never.”

“I love you, Donghyun,” you whisper with all your might.

“I love you too, my love,” Donghyun whispers back, pressing a very soft kiss onto your nose.

You smile, letting out one last, slow breath.

And then, silence.

Donghyun stays there, holding onto you as if letting go would mean accepting the truth.

A few days after your funeral, Donghyun forces himself to get out of bed. You wouldn’t want him to live on with such sadness, he knew. He began distracting himself by doing everything he could, cleaning up the house while trying to preserve anything and everything that you left behind.

He leaves the couch you loved to lounge on as it is; the mugs and extra pair of utensils you used kept neatly in the pantry; your clothes aptly folded away in your part of the closet. He made sure to keep all of your pictures framed and hung on any empty space the walls held. He made sure your favourite flowers are always in abundance, both in the house’s vases and the garden.

In the drawer of your vanity, Donghyun finds a letter—one that you wrote with him during your ‘letter to future self’ session, a few weeks back.

He slowly sits down on the edge of the bed, hands trembling as he unfolds the letter open.

“Dear Donghyun, my love, my one and only, my fiancé.

If you’re reading this, it means I’m gone. And if you’re crying, I swear I’ll haunt you (lovingly, of course).

I don’t want you to be sad forever. I don’t want you to stop smiling. You have such a beautiful smile, and it would be a waste if the world never saw it again.

Live, Donghyun. Live enough for the both of us.

You’re strong, sweetheart. Keep on living, keep on smiling. Be happy, dear.

And if you ever miss me too much… just look up. I’ll be there. I’ll be the star that shines the most for you.”

A wretched sob escapes his chest, and Donghyun begins to cry.

He misses you. Too much.

Tears begin to flood his vision as he holds the letter to his chest.

DAY 3715.

It’s been 10 years.

And you’re still here—fresh in Donghyun’s mind.

The evening air is crisp as Donghyun makes his way up the familiar hill. The grass beneath his feet sways gently, kissed by the soft autumn breeze. In his hands, he carries a small bouquet of white lilies and baby breaths—your favourite flowers.

He kneels by the gravestone, running his fingers over the engraved letters of your name.

“Hey, Y/N,” his voice is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s afraid to disturb the peaceful silence around you. “I’m here, angel.”

He places the flowers down carefully and settles himself next to you, stretching his legs out. Before him, the sun begins to dip below the horizon, leaving behind a painting that covers the sky in hues of gold, pink and violet.

“The sunset is beautiful, my love, just like you,” he murmurs.

The wind answers in a gentle hush.

Donghyun puts his head down to let out a quiet chuckle. “It’s been ten years, and I still find myself talking to you like this. You’d probably laugh at me, huh?”

Donghyun crosses his arms, leaning to your gravestone, gazing at the sky. It was the kind of sunset that you loved the most—one where the colours blended seamlessly into each other, radiating a soft and comforting energy, gently like a touch of a lover’s embrace.

“I hope the sunset is just as beautiful where you are.”

The breeze picks up, rustling through the golden trees, carrying with it the scent of browning autumn leaves. A single petal from the bouquet of lilies lifts into the air, swirling before settling gently on the ground in front of Donghyun.

Donghyun exhales shakily. He lowers his head, his fingers caressing the cool stone.

“I hope I meet you again soon, angel,” he whispers.

The world around him feels still. And for a moment—delicate and fleeting—it almost feels as if someone was there, standing beside him, fingers against his own.

Then, the wind sighs, and the feeling disappears with the sun.

THE countryside house, cosy and just enough, was just as it had been when you first moved in with Donghyun. The wooden walls hold stories in their creaks, and the windows frame the endless beautiful sky, one that you loved so much no matter what the occasion was. Donghyun stands in the garden, tending to the garden filled with your favourite flowers. They had grown very well over the years, thriving in the soil that you had once tended with Donghyun.

He straightens his posture, brushing the dirt from his hands. Lifting his head, he watches the sky shift from afternoon blue to the warm, comforting glow of evening.

“The sunset is beautiful again today,” he says, as if you’re still there, standing next to him.

The wind begins to stir, carrying the scent of flowers through the air. Donghyun closes his eyes, feeling it wrap around him.

And for the first time in a very long time, he smiles.

“I’ll see you again, Y/N.”

― © htaesan, 2025.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀want more like this? check out the 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

#爱 › soph’s faves ♡#💬 ノ 𝗠𝗜𝗨𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔’𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗦 •ᴗ• !#bye i went crazy with this one…#Sorry guys!!! Please give this a read!!!! ❤️‍🩹#i put a ‘read more’ thing now bc i realized i forgot do so for the last reblog of mines…#sorry guys i love lilis long fics too much 😿#lets see if she will Jump me for this reblog….

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bsotted · 2 months ago

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ok well. unfortunate news: sometimes ur niche is so niche u've already niched the niche. this is exactly the same as the feeling of hitting the end of ur ship tag in ao3 🥲

*edit: sorry i accidentally named like every character ever in the tags so ppl are Seeing this post who dont have the benefit of so much as a single crumb of context. if i accidentally namedropped ur blorbo its bc of this post:

anyway. i was excited for recs bc i also enjoy this genre of fictional character. unfortunately as above the niche is niched, it turns out. at least for me, content enjoyer georg, who has apparently already seen or read everything anyone else has already seen or read except for a small handful of specific media properties that i do not wish to see or read for various personal reasons and also not literally everything ever... just the same things as everyone else has already seen and read... u get the idea. ok thnks 👍🏻

#*slowly morosely untucks the bib and folds it up again #smh #idk if that post breached containment in the wrong direction or what but there were like 3ppl apiece talking about good actual examples #and those were like 99% media i already reaaaadddd im tearjngn my hair out #but far and away most ppl flat out missed the brief #like i think out of almost four thousand tags about four tagged ghost. four tagged geralt. three andrew minyard. etc #sobbung im sad for me AND for yall like this is ur jam and the best u can put up for example is dean winchester????#listen i know im on the supernatural site. voluntarily. but ur really gonna tell me thats the best u can do 😭😭#like a solid handful said bucky barnes. good solid classic example i'll give it to u but its 2024 😭😭😭😭😭😭#all respect to the ppl tagging ocs tho y'all are real 🫡 bc its looking like if we want it we do gotta get in the trenches and write it 😔✊#anywya i came away with approximately one and a half recs and then 3-4 repeated vouchers for media i know i am just never gonna consume rip #and the rest of yall.. have some kinda different media literacy situation going on we went thru v different english programs i fear #😔😔#angie.txt #like i believe the boba fett girlies are right and on to something but i am simply not going down the mouse route on my own dime #so those recs are. moot #not a single trigun mention i dont think.. not vash or nick or i wouldve even given a pass to a shoutout for knives #some of u said kaz and i havent read the books but even just based on the tv series p sure i can respect that.#one i have to look into asap is whoever evan kelmp(?) is- whatever hes from im not familiar and seems promising.#izzy hands im so sorry. im fundamentally incapable of watching ofmd unfortunately i watched black sails first #wasnt aware it was going to ruin other pirate related media for me when i made that decision 😭😭#i respect the arcane shoutouts but i do think it's hilarious that no two of u called out the same character.#murderbot obviously #i just think some of yall are so close yet so far and i want better for us all so goddamn badlyyy #update: i checked and op seems to have been generalizing off of boba fett/wolverine/magneto etc and yeah that tracks #smbdy said john wick - more than one actually- and while i hear u i also invite u to consider:#that man's singular desire is literally to go back into retirement in peace all he wanted was a quiet night in a rocking chair w that dog..#i dont think id go so far as to say he wouldnt know what to do with a warm bed if he got it. or attach himself to sbdy attack dog style atp #ykwim #somebody said patrick bateman.. yall are just listing names atp. darth vader? kylo? all right pack it up folks

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eldritchmochi · 7 months ago

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folks, dont do this. like, one, my a/n on coping skills thru the last like five updates make it abundantly clear that i am going to Major Medical Bullshit and if there is ever a good reason to put a creative project on hold, its to recover from almost dying several times in a short span

but also, there is never any reason ever at all full stop, to include a line in ur fic comment to this effect. if you assume something isnt going to be updated ever again, you keep that to urself before slapping it at the author is a damned good way to ensure it doesn't get touched again. its passive aggressive and shamey, and while i dont think it was the intent of the commenter to read that way, it still fuckin sucks. the rest of the comment was lovely appreciation for my smut and characterization. it could have easily started with "i gotta say" as the lead in instead of the above and it would have made me excited and joyous to touch this project again now that im starting to feel like a whole human again, after, you know, almost dying a lot

and instead im just frustrated and mad

so dont do this

#mochi rambles #mochi fic #im pretty open about especially my health adventures all things considered #so it is not hard to peek around and see that I'm still neck deep in Fucked Up About Almost Dying #but actively working towards unsouping my brain enough to write #because i will finish this damned story #id say if it kills me but uuuuh no thank u ive had my fill of that lmao #but tldr if ur reading an incomplete work that hasnt been touched in ages #shutting down the idea of it being worked on is a self fulfilling prophecy #you do that and *you* are the reason it doesnt get worked on #but if you focus on supporting the author you will genuinely make a difference that could result in them returning to the work #which #even if they dont that's their business and its rude to to make it a problem #just accept what is available and thank the author for it if u comment and move on #salty salty #tho honestly #in the what tennn?? months since the last update?#ive gotten a TON of comments and asks about this fic and this is the first one i can recall that was a shit about it being on hiatus #ive gotten a couple of folks directly ask if it was on hiatus which is fair and reasonable and i replied to give an update on my soup brain #but >:C dont assume u butt coping skills is my baby i love it so much AND U CAN TELL froeny frowny

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lunarharp · 2 years ago

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into the deep end - 29k T orufrey fic.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the other.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

#witch hat tag #orufrey #ok first this drawing isnt right im too tired..i couldnt draw for a week bc i was WRITINGGG and now i dont even know how..#im changed....... why would you write a 29k fic? WHY??? and i wanted it to be 30k because qifrey (spoilers) turns thirty in it.#and that's important to me...and yet it's 29.4k. there's a point where it's just like. i cannot any more. it is what it is. goodbye #it's about memory trauma..disability..birthdays..mental illness..living in a grave since you were born since you died since it happened #and crawling and crawling and crawling back to the place where you left him #uh yeah feel free to give it a read! i literally dont know if a single person will read it and enjoy it and tell me LOL #i've realised long fics do not get read as much lol. but! it's separated into 4 parts ok! you could read one part and then take a break.#just saying. also i hate editing. if there are any more typos ill flip my lid. no-one tell me.#god i love witch hat and qifrey and orufrey and oru #there's girls and background ermicia and garuato but i was so vague about so much cause i had to be peace out #btw being ace is critical to me and informs everything i write.

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psalmsofpsychosis · 7 months ago

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I dont think at this point i can even start on classic literature if i tried, like, i have absolutely zero patience for stories that take their goddamn time "building up" to things. "give exposition talk and show your characters doing everyday things" girl only if the everyday things contribute to the theme of the story! I dont have an ounce of interest in traditional idle starting points, "this story takes awhile to warm up and nothing happens for 45 pages" lmao bye

#I used to think my attention span has gotten worse and i can't focus enough to get through books #but turns out people are just boring writers lmao #i love it when a story starts right off the bat. Dont beat around the bush;#just tell me the fucking story i have never heard of ''build up''#i dont wait for a narrative to come around the story has approximately 1 to 4 minutes to catch my attention or i'm out #my brother is always like ''nooo give this thing a chance it's gonna get better'' nah. if it's good it's good from the very beginning #in the first 5 minutes of Gotham TV you get two children's reaction to murder; utter freeze and ear shattering scream #it immediately swts the scene. you're IN the story the narrative has already started #in the first 5 minutes of Shameless US Ian is outed to the family's possible most homophobic little dude #it literally shocks you out of your skin and you're like ''oh okay!! alright; i'm awake now!''#it's not that i can't get into 570k books anymore; it's that people who write long narratives usually meander and stale so goddamn much #and dont say anything at all and the pace is hella slow #and i need a good captivating opening #this post brought to you by me rewatching Samurai Champloo #opening with a disclaimer reading ''this work is not an accurate historical portrayal. like we care. now shut up and enjoy the show.''#immediately followed by two enemy samurais executed together. like fuuuuuck this opening sequence is so sexy!!!!#i'm one of the people very much in favour of 45-episode shows being cut down to 8 or twelve #if done right #because i only want the essential plot and i love a fast paced story #no.1 hater of ''mandatory beach episode'' here #stick to the fucking plot and pack it!!!

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snow-and-saltea · 8 months ago

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it is a bit scary but ive been in the limbo between not allowing myself to do anything until i get my shit together for too long, which means i havent been "indulging" in anything i really like but only things i've cycled through routine to the point of tastelessness. i am somehow so adamantly resistant against escapism through hobbies or from making myself feel better but also very cowardly in the sense that i'm too afraid of looking at my problems in the eye because my bad mental health bars me from being honest and hopeful (to inspire myself to fix it) to myself because every time i try, i can only hear the "brutal" part of the "brutally honest", and i don't even know if i'm being honest because it's as though i go into this dialogue against myself with an intent to kick myself down. which, i do understand why it happens, but i currently have no energy to "fight" back against it so i just go "yeah. you're right. i AM trash and worthless. i already know this, can we stop bringing this up please?" perhaps from an outsider pov or through a friend's pov i am seen differently, but imagining myself being seen in a positive manner somehow feels delusional because i "know" i'm not being very umm. valuable. i guess skhdjshfjdjf there's definitely stuff going on there

#yuu rambles #therapy stuff #i do notice a running thread of “value” in my head; mostly informed by my mother's words and perspective #of course i have my own values; but in times like these i inadvertently “revert” back to her values of how to judge myself because i'm so #used to trying to appeal to authority figures so i can cope w abuse a little better. but uhhh. it kinda takes a toll i cant lie #shoutout to my dad for telling me i dont bring him any value that was a very cool thing to do. definitely didnt suck or anything #motherfucker was like: one day i HOPE you guys go through what i go through when you have kids and they act like leeches like you guys were #and THEN you'll finally understand. why im so pissed off #i already understand why you're pissed off now but i have no desire to act on it like you did....?#something something a man who has nothing but money feels bankrupt when he has to use it bc nothing else gives him security or love #sorry for the rambling. this has been stewing in my brain for the past 2 weeks but i haven't verbalized it #feels a little good to do so. im crying a bit too but it feels more relieving than anything terrible. i dont feel any strong thoughts #just my sadness passing through my body and me trying to put it to paper to understand myself better #this has been a cry for help but also a literal cry !!! thank you for reading even if you dont say anything #im often too afraid to tell these things to friends because i dont want to be too much too quickly and id feel bad if they felt bad for me #so writing things out like this as if im talking to myself helps a lot. i think

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preciousbasketcasexx · 10 months ago

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Just. Venting cause idk where else to do that.

#this has genuinely been the hardest 24 hours of my whole life. im dealing with a massive depressive episode in which i destroyed my skin #broke all my nails off and stopped giving a shit #i slept in makeup and applied more overtop #cant be assed to do anythung for myself but im trying and pushing abd trying to make other people feel loved because there are so many good #things and people in my life. they deserve to feel loved abd appreciated abd im lucky to do so #yesterday i helped someone in my store and gave them love and care and helped them because it makes me happy to do so only to find out #theyre my dads new gf and they came in looking for me to tell them my dad misses me.m #its been five years of no contact with my dad for my own reasons and i feel absolutley fucking gutted and betrayed. i feel shaky and #anxious. my whole body hurts abd feels tight and tense and i feel fucking scared to be in my own store #how could anyone do that? go into my place of safety abd stalk me and hold onto me and gaslight me #oh you’ve been dating since december? my parents were married for 35 years. good for you. my whole fucking life changed because of a #selfish man and i am so fucking happy you’re enjoying my dad #he was my best fucking friend and now he means nothing to me because of his choice to disrespect me #i am nothing but collateral damage #how fucking dare she. i dont know how to cope with this but i am so scared and i just needed to write it out #if you made it this far and actually read all of this i am so sorry #what did the janitor say when he came out of the closet? supplies.

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seiwas · 1 year ago

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i ran out of tags sera i can’t believe this ☠️

anyway i was just saying !!! that !!! ONLY YOUUUU can write smut like this and stilLl make it so emotionally pAcked and heavy and characteristically ON POINT and i don’t even know if u intend to 😭😭😭 it feels like these things just flow like magic out of ur fingertips !!!!!!!!

and the next morning when nanami is there too KAMXKSN THE KISS THE CHEF APRON IS KILLING MEEEE and when he trips reader by jokin about the hickIES and reader falls for it and satoru facepalms 😭😭 hELPP AND THE LAST LINE SERA THE LAST LINE !!!!!!!!!!!

anyway this is all to say That !!!!!! SERA i love u and i miss u !!!! And i am so happy that i get to find ur lil works like this no matter how long time has passed !!! And that i get read it !!!! And enjoy it the way i do !! Because i always will love the things u write 🥺🥺 U KNOW I WILL !!! AAAAAAH thank u for blessing us w this nanago (more heavy gojo) MEAL 🥹

also thank u to somi for reminding me that this exists omfg jsnxkdnxj

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER

Gojo and you have little to nothing in common besides a friend group and a shared crush on Nanami Kento. However, as befitting the sorcerer to end all sorcerers, of course Gojo has one up on you - he’s actually made a move on Nanami. If he offers to give you a taste through him, who are you to turn down such a golden opportunity?

wc — 4.5k

tags — mdni, nanami x reader is present but not the focus, praise, Gojo’s a tease, fingering, mutual pining but for Nanami, crying during sex but in a good way, light begging

Work has been long and exhausting. Everywhere in the world is overrun by curses, but surely the solution can’t be to simply give the sorcerers more curses. There’s only so many of you, and with assignments piling on, you all can barely breathe. Sooner or later, someone’s going to burn out - and that’s an infinitely worse possibility. You don’t want to know what happens when a sorcerer goes rogue.

That’s why you’ve taken to recovering the best you can. At least the pay has been proportional, thanks to the efforts of one Nanami Kento. Enough so that you’ve been able to rent an apartment in the heart of Tokyo, where you can home after work and relax - as much as you can when most days you go out into the field, come home, sleep, and repeat. You’re not even sure when you’ve had the time to eat these days.

Which is why coming home to the sounds of music leaking out of your apartment is a little unwelcome. As you hear a crash from inside, and a loud, “Shit!”, you begin to regret giving your friends your keys. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, and yet, as you unlock the door -

“Welcome home,” Nanami says dryly, nursing a drink in his other hand. Utahime notices next and scrambles up to greet you with a kiss on either cheek.

Keep reading

#omfg sera i cant believe i only rEad this NOW #LITERALLYSDG #i love the dynamics of their lil friend group so much #and of couRSE I love the way you write them sera #i always always do #and i love how satoru is their lil schoolbus shbfash teleporting them everywhere like YES #make than man do some worK (but only for friend things... he can take a break for all his other responsibilities)#and the crush reader has on nanami omg i GET IT I FEEL IT cos i really would tOO #and the interaction between yuki and gojo omG #U R LITERALLY GIVING US CRUMBS SDHGBAJ the interaction we never got to see !!!!!#& im so happy to see that gojo actually mAYBe accepts her seniority ???#and the utahime shoko detail oh i lOVe iT !! even wearing geto's sweater omg that's just so cute :<#and tHEN THE COUCH WHEN NANAMI LEANS ON READERS SHOULDER........... OF COURSE I SCREAM omfG ??? and he doesnt move when reader puts their #arm around him liKE WTAF AND HE JUST SNUGGLES INTO IT AND SAYS THANKS ?? FEELS GOOD ??? i THINK i woulD DIE #the tension between gojo and nanami is insane idek how to describe it #and schoolbus satoru at the end of the movie is soso cute #and the way it just escalates om fg how gojo's suddenly kissing reader and everything IM GOING INSANE #sera when i tell u that . this was so hot. oh my god it was so hot #the things this did to my BRAIN lkike #first of all: gojo being a good kisser -> guaranteed to make me go INSAnE. and the way u articulate reader's thoughts on this too ofmfmfofm #the tongue and the biting and the teeth and the spit and the everyTHING oh my god #“buT i like kissing you BAby” NO HE HAS TO STOP HE CANT BE USING 'BABY' LIKE THAT ILL CRY #THEN HE JUST BRINGS UP NANAMI ??? LIKE ???#the lil bit of sadness u gave him ??? omg sera ??#its that bittersweet feeling thats somehow always associated with him shdjbgsal #but then he continues to fuck like nANAIM ANd IM GOING CRAY #and wehn they both cumfgofmghdssdghsghfas im ded gone #and reader is like u love him and gojo is like i like him om #only u can make smut this heavy and emotional sera i swear to god and i dont even know if u intend it toosd gjzb #' i think he might say yes if its you ' and WHAT IF I CRY

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angelicstalker · 1 year ago

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Lmaooo

#drama happened at work and now oriana and anisa are angry with me bc they have to dispense while i pick #and im like ????#but it was okay the three wekks that i had to dispense and watch them do nothing ????#WHILE i had my period stsrt every time i had stress ????#LMAOOO #everyone back there is like 'why do we have to do this in the rain and greg gets off free'#maybe bc um idk it literally gives me so much anxiety that my fucking body says hey heres some blood and also #i WAS DOING IT IN THE SNOW BITCH #god im so fed up #AND THEN AS IM WRITING THIS BRIE COMES UP TO ME #AND SAYS DID U READ MY MESSAGES I SENT LAST NIGHT #I SAY NO #AND SHE SAYS WELL U SHOULD BC I GAVE YOU THE BRUTAL TRUTH #AND I WAS LIKE UH UH #no #and i went off on her #bc she was blaming me for leading him kn #i said NOPE #IM THE ONE WHO KEEPS TELLING THEM I DONT LIKE HIM #AND THEY ARE GIVING HIM HOPE #IM NOT DOING SHIT #ONLY THING I SAID TO THEM THAT ENCOURAGED ANYTHING WAS CALLING HIM CUTE #AND I HUGHED HIM ONCE #AND I GOT HIM VALENTINES STUFF BECAUSE HE BOUGHT ME SHIT FORST AND I DIDNT WANT TO SEEM LIKE AN ASSHOLE #Im just #ugh #i probably lost literally all my friends today :)#its okay #ill be okay #mine

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hampterguts · 1 year ago

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kinda funny seeing that last queued tf post with me gushing in the tags abt the comic bc i havent felt joy or even an emotional connection reading mtmte for a while

#idk man something just aint right. whether im just getting hit with another depressive episode or. idk.#the writing just feels... different. it feels weirdly cartoony? even though. the beginning was also really cartoony? but this feels worse #i liked the beginning so much more i liked the characters that cared so little about each other and the overall oppressive mood #idk part of it is i really dont like typical western superhero comic tropes and writing styles at aalllllllll #i cant stand the lack of foreshadowing and 'well just believe that it was secretly always like this' and the superpowers and trying to #raise the stakes by just Saying 'you might die' but its ok nobody does nor does the concern cross your mind #and i cant tell if the jokes are worse or more frequent but certain characters dont even seem like themselves anymore to me #the last thing i enjoyed was around when rewind killed a man. everything since has felt like some marvel movie type writing and it hurts #what happened to nuance and reading between the lines my good friends nuance and reading between the lines #'the one with sunder was good its a really good horror' <- why did you lie to me. are you mad at me #it wasnt even fun..... wasnt even interesting......#isnt this supposed to be a story abt attempting to adjust to postwar life and how fucked everything is. and how no #-thing is morally cut between good/evil? theres nuance? theres depth? whered all that depth go? maybe i imagined it this whole time #like.even the thing with skids gave me less of an impact when its surrounded by such. cheezyness. it deserves more consideration? respect?#good god its a very direct depiction of a very real horror dealt to rEAL PEOPLE #AND ITS CORRELATED WITH 'OTHERS RECEIVE SUPERPOWERS FROM THIS REVELATION' FUCK YOU #i feel bad for that plotline existing in that fucking situation jesus fucking christ you can't just do something like that #like. just. 'trauma gives you superpowers and also your suffering makes others stronger' how abt i go drink bleach.#maybe someone else will have a GREAT time if i do. <- kidding but like. christ man what the fuck #does this have to do with his whole 'i shouldnt have done red alert like that' idk what to tell you boss but that was nowhere near as bad #as the skids superpower giving scene.#red alert was fine it made sense it was severely relatable. it happens. but skids? no that fucking doesnt. what is that even trying to mean #beyond yknow. what guilt does to people. and cementing the worst of the war that um. isnt going to feel much justice at all it seems #sorry im in a very. tear everything apart kind of mood #dummy posts

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gyuswhore · 7 months ago

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Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

[You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here.

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents.

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7 [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations.

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway.

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too.

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table.

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway.

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order.

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink.

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved.

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time.

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence.

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either.

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence.

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave.

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.”

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion.

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least.

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him.

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing.

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving.

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him.

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself.

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever.

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth.

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too.

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco.

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.”

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances.

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after.

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!”

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck.

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks.

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault.

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside.

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire.

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting.

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?”

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again.

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact.

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little.

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop.

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway.

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators.

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of.

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag.

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask.

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?”

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside.

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things.

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.

“Am I late for something again?”

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face.

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all.

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage.

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you.

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.”

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard.

“So you can fix it?”

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.”

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine.

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you.

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work.

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him.

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular.

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close.

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly.

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row.

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.”

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.”

You questioned if this was a mistake.

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course.

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again.

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke.

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t.

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos.

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often.

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving.

“Shall we go to the office then?”

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra.

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed.

Cute.

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet.

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup.

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side.

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins.

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space.

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?”

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?”

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying.

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues.

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–”

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.”

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease.

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name.

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea.

“Are you doing anything else today?”

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly.

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside.

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt.

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay.

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly.

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination.

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars.

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer.

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched.

“Fuck, yes you can.”

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top.

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers.

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs.

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster.

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace.

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth.

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees.

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy.

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly.

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs.

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support.

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him.

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you.

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash.

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nmn-yty · 7 months ago

Text

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ leaning on you ˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

read other parts first!!! : part 1 — part 2

pairing: lee know x reader

summary: you somehow managed to cross the line with your bunny, can it be pleasurable for the both of you?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: hello! i severely apologize to all of you who have been waiting for this part to come out :( ive been struggling to find time to continue to write, and the motivation with it... but here it is! seriously... i can't explain how much i appreciate all of the love you guys have given to my stories♡ im so happy you guys love bunny lee know so much! i also wanted to keep this as neutral as possible regarding the reader (hence the anal) but you can switch it out in your imagination! (i wanted to have all readers to be able to enjoy!) also this is my first smut story being uploaded... i hope you guys have a good read><!!!~

(special shoutout to @omgsecretsecret for helping me edit this part♡)

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"so do bunnies like you experience everything a human should?"

you didn't know why your mind was drifting towards this direction. for as long as you had minho in your house, you were sure your relationship would be 100% platonic. he was adorable as hell, eased your mind whenever any worries came to you, and was always there by your side. did that give you clearance to make a move on him? you didn't want to ruin the perfect relationship you two had, but you have needs, and you were wondering if he had the ability to share those same needs.

minho paused for a moment, sitting oddly still while you sat above him. you were sitting on the edge of your bed, playing with his hair while he sat on the floor with his head leaning against the mattress. his head was almost at a distance where you could press your thighs against each side of his face, but you resisted enough so the lingering thoughts of teasing him went away.

he turned around briefly to face you, "what do you mean by 'everything'?"

your face began to flush after you realized how insensitive your question could've been.

"not to pry or anything but... aren't bunnies known for... having a high sex drive?" you spat out quickly before your confidence faded away.

his eyes widened, this is the first time youve seen him this shocked at your words. he was too shocked to even reply to you, not that he had anything ready in his mind. you could feel his presence tense up and you wanted to steer clear of whatever dirty path your mind seemed to wander on. he didn't say anything and just turned back around, finally leaning into your thigh. he wrapped one arm around your leg, feeling your cool skin calming down his burning face. having him so close to you when you wanted to run away in shame felt strange. you were always used to being close to minho, but the sudden affection, especially after that moment, was out of place. your leg started to warm up because of his face. starting to relax a bit, you realized that it wasn't the right time to head across that line.

you smiled and started to play with his hair again, looping each little section around your finger into curls. they eventually sprung back to its natural shape once you let go. minho loved this time with you, when all you did was leave your worries for that day and focused on him. it was his favorite thing to do while being with you. he still carried the thought in his mind, 'maybe something would happen during my need for mating'. only time could tell the new moments you two would experience together.

during the late night, you and minho were cuddling in bed. it wasn't strange for the both of you anymore. you knew that minho felt more comfortable knowing that you kept him safe. cuddling with him was the least you could do to comfort him.

this night felt different though. the question you asked earlier felt like a reach into unwanted territories. you wanted him to expand on his feelings, but at the end of the day he was a shy bunny who got flustered easier than you thought.

unsure of your next thoughts, you closed your eyes and tried your best to go to sleep as soon as you could. feeling rustling from behind you, minho's presence inched closer to you. the movement didn't stop, you could feel him shaking now. was it too cold in the room? you stayed as still as possible, trying to make out the noise coming from him. he was whimpering softly, almost like he needed something desperately.

"m-minho?"

you turned around to face him, tears were welling up in his eyes. he was clearly distraught about something but you had no clue what happened. your heart sank, was it because of the invasive conversation from earlier?

he sniffed softly, trying to make out words but ultimately getting choked up.

"i... i need..."

his eyes glanced down to the bottom half of his body. tentatively scanning his body as to what he was trying to point out, the last and most obvious thing you noticed was a slight twitch coming from his crotch, the cloth sticking up as well.

'fuck... is this really happening?' you thought to yourself. you managed to repress and bury all the inappropriate thoughts you had about minho, but he was about to fuel it once again. his face was as pink as ever, in desperate need for your warm touch.

"is this what i think it is?"

"mating tendencies... yeah... i-ive never experienced it while being human, i dont know if it will feel the same. but i r-really need..."

he was huffing between words, stuttering as well.

"let me think for a second."

you turned facing away from him. rubbing your thighs together, trying to hold back the good aching feeling rising within, you couldn't help but panic for a second. would you help him out because he's in pain and needs to relieve himself? how would this moment affect your relationship moving forward? would it be a normal occurrence, or only during his need to mate? would it be better to just ignore it and try hold on to whatever you two had going on when you first met?

your rushing thoughts were interrupted by something warm, sticky, and hard. something poking at your thighs, trying to squeeze itself in between.

you couldn't help but let out a small yelp. that feeling began to rise in you. there was no way things were going back to how they used to be. the movement kept progressing, you glanced down in front of yourself to find the head of minho's cock against your thighs. you wanted nothing more than to take him, take his body, and pleasure the both of you were bound to have.

"minho please.." you reached down towards his cock, ready to progress. he misunderstood and took it as you wanting to stop. he pulled away, hesitantly, already missing the softness of your thighs.

"mm sorry... i j-just need.."

"hey," you turned around slightly to grab his face. you flashed him a small grin, making sure he didn't feel guilty for acting this way around you. "it's okay."

a tear started to stream down one side of his face. your reassurance made him slide himself back in between your thighs. you wondered how it was possible for it to feel so good on your bare skin. you had shorts on but it all of a sudden became more hot under the blankets. your thighs were coated in a thin layer of his precum. he gripped onto your body for a better stroke pattern.

sweet little moans erupted from behind you. minho was the one engulfing your body with his tall stature against you. however, you felt like you were in charge at the moment. letting your sweet bunny try and cum from your body was more than enough for you to start to get horny yourself.

slipping a hand under your shirt, you began to play with your nipples slowly. you shut your eyes and leaned more into minho's chest, hoping that he wouldn't catch you in the act. sweet little huffs turned into loud groans, he was in a trance and he hadn't even started to properly explore your body. he had ultimately noticed you leaning more into him, even arching your back. he wanted you to feel comfortable and not worry as much about trying to relieve yourself on your own. although you were the one trying to help him, he wanted to be the one to help you with your release too.

"let me.. please?" he said while placing his hand on top of yours, wanting to take your place on your chest. you moved your hand down in defeat, it was impossible to say no to him. his hands felt warm on your bare skin. swirling his fingers around you and occasionally pulling, your nipples hardened more and more. your breath started to get unsteady as you wanted more. shivers ran throughout your whole body.

gently breaking the contact of his cock and your thighs, you turned your whole body around to face him. you locked eyes with him and all the guilt and doubts you had in your mind about you two went away. his cock began to twitch at the loss of warmth. you suddenly placed your hand on him, slowly stroking and gliding on him, your hand becoming a sticky mess. he let out a strong huff and tilted his head back. you both were seeing stars. minho was unable to fathom that you were finally touching him, taking in all the strength to not cum right then and there. you were also shocked at how good you felt. seeing his reaction made you more comfortable and ready to move further.

grabbing your face with both hands, he placed a passionate, wet kiss on your lips. his tongue was determined and he kept moving his mouth in ways that sent you to heaven. pulling away to see your reaction, he smiled, "im still all yours, remember?" his voice just became more sexy to you than ever. you quickly locked lips with him again, smiling through it all. his lips were soft and plump from all the action, he bit the bottom of your lip to signal he needed some air. both of you sharing the same blushing expression.

he tried to drag your body back around but ultimately needed assistance. helping him out, you turned around immediately. sticking your ass out on his bare cock, you moved your hips up and down. minho was at his breaking point. he nudged his mouth near your ear, slowly dragging your shorts and underwear down. "please? let me put it in... i need to feel you.." his breath was hot and low on your ear. you were surprised you hadn't melted into a puddle yet.

you didn't say anything. you were too drunk off of the bliss feeling lingering throughout your whole body. you placed a hand on top of his that was resting on your hip. he took that as a sign to start.

not a second to waste, he lodged his entire length into your ass, letting out a deep moan into your ear. you arched your back more and almost choked up on the intense yelp you let out. he filled you up so good, it barely hurt from all the precum he was dripping with. he also took his time on the first stroke, pulling out his length so you knew how its absence would feel. you squeezed his hand, wanting more.

he slowly stroked back in, his high coming back harder this time. you felt like your heart was going to explode. his slow rhythm became more loud and sloppy, the wetness spreading throughout your bodies. syncing your moans with each pump, you instinctively rolled your tongue to hang out and pant more. you wanted this feeling to last for as long as possible.

the pace began to increase, and minho wasn't holding back on his moans. this whole time he was in his human form, but this much work was bound to make him change. you didn't notice at first, but his bunny ears appeared and drooped down, gently caressing your face. being in his hybrid form made him more bunny like, it made him go faster. the rhythm was so irresistible, it was fast but gentle, hitting you in all the right places. you felt yourself being filled with more fluid, gliding himself became easier than before.

he held onto your body even closer and tighter. minho started to felt bad about involving you in this situation, but you did want to be closer to him in this way. he wanted to make sure you felt satisfied, so he held himself back and focused the pleasure going to you. the final stretch of your rising heat and the steady rhythm snapped you out of your trance.

"s-slower, please minh-ho," you whined out. you couldn't tell, but he began to smirk at the way his name sounded in that tone. it drove him crazy, the fact that he was actually making you a complete mess. you wanted to savor this addictive feeling, but the slower strokes made your body greedy.

it all came rushing in at once, you let out one last yelp as you rode through your high. minho helped you by holding on to your shaking body.

the sight of your worn body filled himself with so much pride, he was shocked that he hadn't came yet. "did that feel good?" his voice was low and velvety in your ears again.

"y-yes," you managed to whisper out. still sensitive, you could feel him twitching around your walls, which made you choke slightly between breaths. he was trying his best not to move too much, but his body wasn't on his side.

you wanted to help him, but first you needed to recover. he moved his head to your neck, slowly sucking and kissing around to make sure you were okay. his sweet behavior was very calming, especially after the first orgasm you experienced with him.

"dont you want to cum too?" your question snapped him back to the situation at hand.

"can i?"

you nodded lazily, about to doze off at any minute. however, minho was quick to return to his rough pace, making your eyes steady again. he buried his head back onto you, acting like the shy bunny you knew too. the deeper and harder he pumped, he suddenly whispered a quick 'fuck' under his breath, pulling out of you. he grabbed his dick and painted your ass with his warm, thick cum.

it was beautiful, seeing how happy he was to finally get his first orgasm as a human. he pressed his body up against you, getting all the cum and sweat on his body as well. he didn't mind it though, he was too tired to clean up.

he looked drained, you noticed the beads of sweat all over his face and body. he was glistening with a new aura, and he looked like the most beautiful thing in the world. he still managed to give you a crooked smile, letting you know it was a good experience. you started to get flustered, even though you two just experienced the most intimate action ever.

you changed your position, letting your face sit on his chest. you buried and hid your red face from him. he gently reached up to pet your head, soothing you to sleep.

waking up to minho distanced away, you couldn't help but pull him back into a cuddle. he had quickly turned back into his bunny form to recharge from the actions that took place last night. he didn't flinch at all from the movement, he just slowed his breathing down as he was surrounded by a sudden warmth. you couldn't help but feel a little sorry about the sacrifice he took today. you pet his body slowly, kissing his head gently. you wanted to apologize for the state he was in now, but he was the one who made sure that it was okay to go through with in the first place.

♥︎taglist: @lailac13 @palindrome969 @lunathewonyoungstan @syedazarintasnim @yourlocalstayyxi @yukichan67 @qwonyoung23 @cupidcures @verynormalsstuff @leezanetheofficial @brainrotahahaha @kim-hao-han @b0os-jellfyfish @l33felix @wirwirfr @skzmylove75 @katsukis1wife @zyoopioo @katsukisloveinterest

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 month ago

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give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,”

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication. There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics.

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while.

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.”

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.”

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says.

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.”

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,”

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?”

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.”

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.”

“Are you holding a grudge against me?”

“Against your recklessness, yes.”

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.”

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored.

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way. Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side.

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed.

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.”

You shake your head.

“I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.”

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.”

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both.

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog.

When your mind catches up with reality, your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions.

“Something on your mind?”

“Hm…?”

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,”

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.”

“Another medication you mean?”

You shake your head, smiling crookedly.

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.”

“Holisitic?”

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,”

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?”

“Maybe… something more physical.”

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?”

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.”

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.”

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him.

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer.

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.”

“I’ll be more mindful.” You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically.

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.”

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown.

“Zayne,”

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine.

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?”

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.”

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.”

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks.

“Comfortable? No pain?”

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body.

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt.

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better.

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch.

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint.

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can.

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled.

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth.

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you.

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.”

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown.

“I said spoil me. This is torture.”

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile.

“I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,”

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear.

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,”

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs.

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.”

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer.

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it.

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better.

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely.

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke.

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,”

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes.

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace.

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands.

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again.

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.”

You don’t get a chance to recover your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough.

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not.

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you. Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together.

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.”

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.”

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply.

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering.

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself.

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint.

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly.

“Fuck me.”

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—”

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.”

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed.

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.”

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—”

“Zayne,”

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.”

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.”

“Will you help?”

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.”

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit.

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies.

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle.

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation.

“One more should be—”

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.”

“You know very well it’s not.”

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.”

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder.

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting.

He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first.

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip.

“Have you changed your mind?”

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone.

“Stubborn thing you are.”

“Zayne,” You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?”

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.”

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance.

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock.

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat.

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together.

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally.

“Aren’t going to move?”

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.”

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks.

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy.

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures.

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent, head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge.

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice. His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.”

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you.

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too.

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat.

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—”

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.”

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds.

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time.

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again,

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.”

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.”

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up.

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you.

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?”

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.”

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?”

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?”

“This…?”

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?”

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?”

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…”

“Kind? Honest?”

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.”

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?”

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.”

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.”

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it.

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….”

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks.

“As if it’s something to thank me for,”

#zayne x reader #zayne lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #zayne smut #writing tag #post of shame. goodnight

654 notes · View notes