#hmm how many WIPs is too many WIPs? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tgmsunmontue · 5 days ago

Text

Season to Taste - 29/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

It feels like he’s done nothing but cook for three days, his arms are sore from kneading dough and turning the handle on the pasta machine; he’s also drunk too much and he hasn’t had enough sleep. Filming isn’t this much hard work. Silvia had tutted and told him America was making him soft, and he supposes it has been, because nothing puts him through his paces like a big family wedding where he and Leandro are cooking the food. It’s one of his and Vi’s cousins, not one of the one’s he’s closest to, but it doesn’t matter.

They’re all family.

He’s coming to learn he’ll do anything for family.

… … …

“I bought you something.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know what it is, but the guy in the store assured me it was food.”

He hands Bradley the jar and he recognizes it instantly.

“Lotus roots. Nice. Thanks sweetheart.”

“Hmm. I’m going to try and find something you don’t recognize.”

Bradley snorts, smirks and raises an eyebrow, thinks about all the crazy ingredients he’s either worked with or that have featured as part of ridiculous cooking challenges in some of the shows he’s been a part of.

“Well, good luck…”

… … …

Bradley stands behind him, rests his chin on Jake’s shoulder as he slices the pepper for their omelette.

“Just…” he wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, smiles as he feels Jake press back into his body. Then he rests his other hand over Jake’s. “Let the knife do most of the work. It’s sharp and gravity is on your side. Just pull back and drop, it’ll go much smoother…”

“Jesus fuck Leo…”

“What?” Leo asks, breath warm and damp against the side of Jake’s neck like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

“We’re meant to be making breakfast.”

“Mmm. Would rather eat you…”

“God you’re corny.”

“Rhymes with corny…”

He leaves the peppers half cut on the bench.

… … …

Ninety minutes later, showered and definitely starving now but definitely sated sexually Jake walks through the apartment. Leo has shooed him out of the kitchen, adamant he’ll work faster alone. Poured Jake a cup of coffee and told him to go and curl up on the sofa. Except it's his first time here in Leo's space and there are so many photos. He recognizes Vi of course, and then Leandro and Silvia because Leo has shown him pictures on his phone, and he’s going to be having his first video call with them this coming week, which he isn’t nervous about at all. He’s studying a picture of what he would bet large chunks of money is Leo and his parents, and he feels Leo step up behind him, circling his arm around Jake’s waist.

“Are these your parents?” Jake asks, and he knows they are, recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the research he’d done when he’d realized Leo was more linked to the Navy than Jake had previously thought.

“Yeah.”

“Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like your dad?”

Leo laughs, nuzzles a kiss into the side of Jake’s neck.

“Yeah, all the time. Breakfast will be done in two minutes. You want to keep being nosy?”

“Yep. You’ve already had your chance.”

Leo grins at that, kisses him on the cheek and then leaves for the kitchen again. He keeps looking at the photos, and he knows what he's looking for, Leo's elusive godfather. He doesn't think that he's going to get that lucky, that Leo will just have a photo of him out. But... Yeah. He's done some more digging since Admiral Kerner confirmed that Uncle Tom and Iceman were one and the same. He knows now that Nick Bradshaw flew with Pete Mitchell and he was flying when Leo’s dad died. That Maverick and Iceman were wingmen.

So the fact that Leo has never mentioned Maverick is what makes a little silent alarm bell ring in his head. That maybe this man is Leo's godfather and in regards to all aspects Leo is a well-adjusted and mature adult. Except when it comes to his godfather. Of course, even with Captain Mitchell cleared, it doesn’t mean Leo doesn’t still blame him, so that could be the reason. There could be another person out there who Jake can have a little silent vendetta against. Jake came hold a grudge like no one else, especially against people who have hurt people he loves. And he does love Leo.

Yeah.

Maverick Mitchell better hope he never crosses paths with him.

… … …

“Honey! I’m home! God you both better be fucking dressed! Tell me you’re dressed!”

Bradley lets out a long breath, but Jake is grinning, then throwing back his head with laughter, standing to reach out and envelope Vi a hug and he feels a surge of happiness that they get on so well; realizes that he hopes Jake feels the same about him getting on with his family.

“We’re dressed!”

“You mean you don’t want a show?”

“No. Definitely not interested in that kind of show… however does smell good. Is there any left?”

“No, I didn’t make enough for three…”

“Where has the love gone?” Vi exclaims dramatically, and she’s making the face which tells him she’s in a shit stirring mood. Fucking great. “L��amore si misura in piatti cucinati,” Vi sates, grin sly and Bradley flushes, because he’s there. He’s so there in terms of loving Jake, and the fact that he just seems to make everything feel so much easier and fucking Vi knows that, but…

“What did she say?” Jake asks, and Bradley wonders how much he already understood, because Jake definitely understands more Italian than he lets on.

“Love is measured in cooked dishes…” Vi says, failing to look innocent and Bradley huffs in mild annoyance.

“Hmm. Is it also measured by eating them?”

Bradley’s eyes shoot up and Jake is looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up and his heart does a little skip in double-time.

“Yeah,” Bradley breathes, “we can make that a house rule…”

… … …

“Did you want to do anything tonight?” Bradley asks, hours later, curled up on the sofa and watching a documentary about the Antarctic. Vi has come and gone and it’s just the two of them until they’re wheels down in Texas tomorrow morning.

“We fly at eight tomorrow, would like to make the most of every minute we have alone…”

“I know. Me too… just. It’s New York. People generally like to catch a show or go out somewhere nice for dinner. Just… am happy to go out if you want.”

“No babe, I want to stay right here with you. Will leave the fine dining experience to Phoenix…”

Bradley grins up at the ceiling and can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Jake’s head.

“Yeah? What does she have on her list?”

“Some famous place… she had to make a reservation months ago apparently. Not my type of thing…”

“Oh. I’m well aware of that fact. Trust me. Uh. Do you know what restaurant she was going to?”

“Uh. Yeah. Tartaruga Blu. Italian right? That’s why I remembered the name. She said it’s been on TV or something… Have you heard of it?”

Bradley lets out a nervous laugh, glad that they’re alone for this, reminds himself that he doesn’t think Jake will care.

“Ha. Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of it. It’s… Um. It’s actually where I work. Usually.”

“Your steady job when you’re not flying around cooking for the rich and famous huh?”

Bradley blinks, because that’s not wrong exactly; but neither does it capture celebrity chef either; he’s just going to have to be more obvious. Remembers what Maria said about Jake being smart as a tack but also sometime wilfully and blindly oblivious to some things that he just didn’t register as important.

“I… wouldn’t put it quite that way. But yeah, I guess so. I’ve been on TV. A bit.”

“Have you now?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the amusement in his voice, feels him shift carefully on the sofa so he’s facing him, Bradley leaves his arms around him, kisses the gentle smirk off Jake’s face, so glad to have him here.

“Yeah.”

“You going to forget all about me when you’re all rich and famous?”

“No. That’s never going to happen,” Bradley says, because it hasn’t yet and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to and he’s prepared to work at that too.

… … …

“Oh, I need to give you your key back…” Jake mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket. It has a little Lego minifigure attached, dressed in chef whites and he’s kind of attached to it for some weird reason.

“No. That’s your key. I got it cut for you.”

“Uh. What?”

“You can’t move in with me, but you can come stay whenever you want. In fact, I kind of expect it if you’re in town.”

They’re words, still not I love you, but it’s what they mean. Like the sly way Vi has talked about love being measured through cooking, like she knows how Leo feels about him. He’s going to tell Leo that he loves him, use the actual words despite how terrifying it feels to say it to someone who isn’t his family or Javy. He’s confident his feelings are returned, the way his sisters and Vi tease them both. However he’s not beyond avoiding the subject, the airport terminal is definitely not where he first wants to say the words.

“Well, five-star rating. Food wasn’t bad, bed was super comfortable. Company was the best part though.”

The almost bashful smile Leo gives him is gorgeous and Jake hip checks him, pushing him toward their gate. He wonders if he can find a Lego minifigure wearing a naval aviator uniform, give Leo a key to his apartment. Because it’s as practical as Jake having a key to his place. However it’s not the practicality, it’s the physical acknowledgement of something more and fuck, they’ve only been doing this for eight months, but… he wants eight years or no, eighty years.

Yeah.

That’s a good place to start.

… … …

Somehow they’ve been bumped to business class and Jake is not complaining about the extra legroom, because he hates flying commercial, but this is actually nice. And he has Leo to talk to, which makes a nice change. He settles in beside him and reaches for his hand.

“What? You a nervous flier?” Leo asks, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinks he’s being funny and Jake rolls his eyes.

“It’s not my favorite, but I’m not nervous.”

“Mmm. I’ve always loved flying. Every part of it.”

“And maybe I just want to hold your hand. Ever consider that?”

Leo rolls his eyes, squeezes his hand hard and Jake retaliates by starting a thumb war, which he frustratingly loses because Leo somehow has double-jointed thumbs which are gross and freaky. He lets Leo know what he thinks and Leo smirks and leans in close ‘you’d still let me but my gross double jointed thumbs all over you…’ and Jake hates that he’s right.

“So, uh, I’ve been thinking… You want to meet my mom?”

“I… do you want me to meet her?”

“Yeah. It’s just, uh, you know…” Jake trails off, because he’s talked about her dementia more than once, Leo isn’t oblivious to it or how Jake feels about it.

“I’d love to meet her.”

… … …

They arrive and it’s a whirlwind of people and family lunch. It’s nice not to be cooking, instead both Maria and Olivia keep asking him about the different dishes and Jake is smirking and shaking his head.

“Hazard of the job…”

Bradley will happily take that, and he’s glad he was able to bring a range of cookies, because Jake leaves his sisters with the clean-up, which he feels awful about but is simply waved away. Then they’re off to see Jake’s mom and dad. He’s not worried, Chuck, Jake’s father, already likes him; but he would like to make a good impression on Jenna, for both his and Jake’s sake. They sit in the car, Jake resting his wrists over the edge of the steering wheel, hands hanging lax as he sucks in deep breaths and swallows roughly, clearly psyching himself up for what is to come.

He keeps quiet, knows that this is what Jake does when he first gets home and also just before he leaves. That a late lunch happened first is an anomaly probably for his benefit. He reaches out tentatively, places his hand on Jake’s thigh and just lets it rest there, hopes it’s enough to just let him know he’s not alone. Then Jake is sucking in a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth, throwing his shoulders back and reaching for the door handle, but not before resting his hand over Bradley’s for a brief second and giving him a small smile. He follows him and then Chuck is shaking his hand, giving him a quick hug, and offering a drink all in the same moment.

“Who is it Chuck?”

“How about you come see for yourself?” Chuck says, and then there’s a woman there, so clearly Jake’s mom that he finds himself smiling automatically.

“Oh! What are you doing here?”

“Uh…”

“This is Bradley Bradshaw,” Chuck provides, looking between her and Bradley.

“I know who it is Chuck,” Jenna says with a laugh and there’s Jake’s laugh.

“Uh… It’s nice to meet you Mrs Seresin.”

“Jenna, please! And who is this?” Jenna asks, looking toward Jake with easy curiosity and Bradley’s heart twists. Jesus. How does Jake even do this?

“Uh, this is my boyfriend. Jake,” he says, reaching for his hand and gripping it firmly, pulling him toward him because he needs the support, the closeness, no idea how Jake might be feeling.

“Mmm. Well, you always did have good taste. Seems it applies out of the kitchen too…”

Bradley can feel his cheeks flushing as he glances at Jake, who simply looks shattered.

“Jenna, how about you come and help me make Bradley and Jake some coffee. They’ll be here for a little bit…”

… … …

As he watches his parents walk toward the kitchen he feels Leo’s arms go around him, hugging him and he doesn’t understand.

“Why… how… why does my mom know who you are?”

Leo looks so sad and he has to stop himself from snapping that he doesn’t want pity, because he doesn’t think that’s what Leo is experiencing right now.

“Um. You know how I said I was on TV a bit, well I also used to have a cooking channel on YouTube. Your dad said when I met him that they watch it together… almost every day.”

“Oh my god… this is… she doesn’t recognize me but she knows who you are. This is so fucked up. You just introduced me to my own mother.” He takes in a shuddering breath, swallows roughly against the tears and then just decides to let them fall.

“Jake, I’m sorry, I…”

“Don’t. It’s not your fault. I just… it’s unfair. And I say that, and I feel like an asshole because your parents aren’t even alive, so I should be grateful right?”

“You can be upset about your mom Jake��”

“Fuck.” He scrubs at his face. “In all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this was not one that even crossed my mind.”

“I didn’t think she’d know who I was…”

“I want to see…”

“What?”

“Your cooking show.”

“Uh… sure. Actually, you know your mom might want to show you her favorite bits, if you asked her…”

Jake hadn’t thought of that, that this is something his mom can share with him, because he’s never been interested in what she liked watching, but if it’s got Leo then he’s definitely more invested. So when his mom and dad come back carrying a tray of coffee and cake he asks, and she just lights up. He admits he hasn’t seen any of Leo’s, sorry, Bradley’s, shows, and he’d love to see what the fuss is about. Then his dad is exchanging looks he can’t quite parse, but then he’s looking at a still image of Leo on YouTube, frozen with his mouth open, no moustache and he lets out a huff of surprised laughter.

“Oh wow, you look so young.”

“Yeah, that was a while ago.”

It’s only a twenty-minute show, and it’s just Leo talking about making pasta, why he enjoys making it from scratch but also the friendly way he talks to the camera makes him understand why his mom likes it. She talks to Leo almost constantly through it, and Jake finds himself switching between watching the video and then watching his mom and boyfriend talk about different pasta making techniques and yeah, it sucks but it’s still better than he thought it could ever be.

“Who was filming you?”

“Oh. Vi. There’s a blooper reel on her private channel. It’s pretty humiliating.”

Jake can’t wait to see it, chats with his dad as Leo then works in the kitchen with his mom, making pasta from scratch. They decline staying for dinner, but Leo says he’s happy to come back, maybe make some cookies if she doesn’t mind Jake’s nieces and nephews coming as well and of course his mom just lights up. She doesn’t seem to question why Leo doesn’t have work, or even what Jake does, but he’s not going to question his good luck. They’ve made their goodbyes and he doesn’t feel the usual sinking dread about the next time he’ll have to see her, knows it’ll be sooner rather than later but Leo will be there and it’ll somehow be easier as well. It’s dark, and cooler, the air crisp and he stares up at the sky, stops before he gets to the car and turns toward Leo.

“So… people know your name. Do lots of people know your name?”

“Yeah. If they’re that into cooking food.”

“Well, I’m into you…” Leo’s teeth flash white in the dark with a smile, and Jake reaches for him, wraps his arms around his waist and tugs him in close. “In fact, I’m so into you that I might go so far as to say I’m in love with you.”

“Might?”

“That’s the word you’re going to pick out to focus on?”

“Mmm. I love you too Jake.”

“Good. Very good.”

… … …

He has an idea, but he has no idea whether it would be well received or not, but the fact that Jake’s mom recognizes him makes him think it might. He also knows the best person to ask is Maria so he works at getting a moment alone with her.

“I… you heard that your mom recognized me?”

“Yeah,” Maria says, and she’s grimacing, because he knows that it has got to suck, is thinking about how he’d feel if Leandro and Silvia didn’t recognize him. Fuck. Even Ice and Mav, and not for the first time he feels a twist of regret about not talking with Mav for so long, but he knows he’s doing okay because Ice had told him when he asked.

“So, feel free to shut me up any time, I was just thinking, we could make a short film, like… Bradley Bradshaw at home. And introduce Jake as my boyfriend, and then all his sisters… and your mom could watch it every day. I don’t know if it would help, but…” he trails off, not sure if this would even work, but if he can film the baking session with all of Jake’s nieces and nephews then it gives them a family video, but also, if Jenna maybe watched it everyday she might recognize everyone, even if she didn’t realize they were her family.

“I… that’s really thoughtful of you. I don’t know what my brother did in a past life, but I’m glad he found you.”

“I love him,” Bradley says easily, because Jake didn’t need to do anything in a past life, he does plenty in this one which makes Bradley consider himself lucky.

“Yeah. I’m aware. Right. I’ll see what we can do.”

… … …

Time slips past them, around them, passing over them like the cool water in a stream passes over a stone in its’ path. Month-long deployments come and go. Bradley spends time on the farm both with and without Jake. He films another four different cooking shows, publishes another two recipe books and also opens the second Tartaruga in San Antonio, this one called Violet, which Vi hates but doesn’t actively sabotage. The location is close enough to the Seresin Farm and he decides to see if he can buy the house he’d stayed in when he’d first met Jake again; Jake just laughs when he tells him. Jake spends time in New York with Bradley, although it’s usually only one or two nights before they’re on a plane to Texas. They may only see each other three or four times a year, but they cram in as much as they can with the time that they do have.

He’s not really paying attention to the noises coming from the restaurant. They aren’t open yet and there are still two hours. He’s a little grumpy because Jake hasn’t sent him any messages in over a day, which is fine, but usually he gets a little heads up that he’s going into blackout comms. Some of Jake’s COs have been better than others in terms of being willing to pass baked goods on. Honestly, he’s worried about Jake, although he’ll leave it another day before calling Ice. Of course he’ll actually have to share with Ice that he’s gone and got himself a boyfriend, because Slider has let him know that it’s no fun if he can’t gloat he knew first when it’s been nearly three years.

Except in that three years they’ve only had about five months with each other, so even though they both very much all in and he feels like they cope well with all the time they spend apart he will never not worry or miss him while he’s gone. It’s just part of his natural state of being he’s come to accept. Vi walks into the kitchen, wearing one of her pant suits she wears when she’s got people to intimidate and he raises an eyebrow.

“Meeting with… suppliers? Or the bank?”

“Pfft. Like I need to scare the bank. They want to loan us money and don’t like us paying it back faster. No. I needed you to come out the front. I have something to show you.”

“Okay, just let me…” he waves his hands, because he’s in the middle of prep, signals for one of the newer and younger chefs to take over and then exchanges a look with Adrienne to ensure an eye is kept on quality. Then he’s following Vi out the front, and she’s walking ahead of him, leading the way so he notices the film crew in the same moment he sees Jake, standing in his full service khakis looking absolutely amazing and everything else fades to unimportance. He’s across the room and kissing him, hands on either side of his face, mouth hot and insistent and he ignores the polite coughs trying to get his attention.

“Hi…”

“Hi. That’s a welcome home.”

“You’re early. Like. Weeks early.”

“Yep. Can’t talk about it, but, uh… I have almost ten weeks off.”

“Wow.”

“Mmm. Pretty sure you’re going to get sick of me.”

“Never going to happen,” Bradley promises.

… … …

He doesn’t often get creative control, but Jake hasn’t ever signed a waiver saying he’s happy to appear in any of the shows and right in this moment he’s infinitely glad for it. Bradley has kept Jake’s name and job out of all interviews, he’s not about to reveal all of it along with his face. That’s just never going to happen.

“You can’t use any of that footage,” Bradley states.

“Care to explain why not?” Cassandra asks, because they’re used to Bradley’s little fits of pique when he’s having a bad day, but he shakes his head, tries to look a little apologetic, because he’s not trying to be difficult.

“You can’t identify him. It’s a security situation. Only way around it is if you blur his face, nameplate, squadron badge and his ribbons. Any identifying markers. Including his shoulder and collar pins.”

“Surely his squadron badge…”

“No. That narrows it down to maybe a group of twenty-eight people. Likely smaller, depending. He can’t be identifiable. It’s bad enough that people will be able to pick that he’s a naval aviator.”

“How the fuck are they going to figure that out if everything else is blurred out?”

“Oh. They’ll know if they’re looking closely enough,” Bradley mutters, because he’s pretty sure his days of Slider being unable to gloat are finally numbered.

At least someone will be happy.

THIRTY

(Every 10th chapter is an IceMav chapter).

(And did I start writing a Phoenix/Vi side story? Yes. Yes I did.)

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

50 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 2 years ago

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!minho. sick!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. angst galore. reader is sick. minho is a soft and doting bf. reader has a fainting scare/high temp/migraine. slight possessive behavior from minho (but in a cute and soft way, i promise!!). pet names (affectionately). cuteness overload.

word count: 8.3k

summary: it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a/n: yes, i am fully on the brainwashing and brainrotting train that is writing minho out to be a soft, caring bf. don't come for me, it's one of the only pleasures in my life rn!! i wrote this in one sitting (and yes, most of the content in here is based off of my own experience with the flu this past year), so it might be horrible or really amazing. lmk what ya'll think and if you'd like more of this content from me! :))

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛ��s (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The first symptom of the flu to come upon you was a sore throat. It happened just after you and Minho had finished eating dinner - since it was a Wednesday night, Chinese takeout had been on the menu.

You were laying in bed, already cozied up in your pajamas and snuggled under the thick coverlets, reading one of the winter-themed books that you had recently checked out at your local library. When, all of a sudden, your throat started to feel scratchy. Every few minutes, you kept reaching over to your nightstand table to take a sip from the glass of water that you always kept there.

Just then Minho came out of the master bedroom’s adjoining bathroom, clad in the black sweatpants that he always wore to bed. He was shirtless since his hot-blooded self could never fall asleep if he had too many clothes on. You got a clear view of his chiseled chest muscles and sinewy biceps as he padded over to you with his slippers on and gave your forehead a gentle kiss.

When he pulled away from you and saw the discomfort that was evident in the way your brows were furrowed together, he frowned slightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a few strands of your loose hair behind your ear as he peered down at you with those sparkly, expressive doe-eyes of his.

“I don’t know, my throat hurts all of a sudden.” You said, swallowing over the painful scratch in your mouth.

“Did you drink some water?”

“Yeah, but it’s not helping…”

“Let me make you some warm tea, then,” your boyfriend reached down and tenderly squeezed your forearm with a tiny smile stretching across his lips. “Surely that will help you feel better.”

“But- Min, it’s too late, you worked so much today… it’s okay, I can make it,” you protested, catching hold of his wrist and stopping him from leaving your side. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, even as your throat was screaming at you for something warm.

“It’s okay, kitten. Making the tea will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back in bed with you.” Just then he bent into you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and ruffling some of your hair with a wide grin on his face. “Wanna help you, baby, hmm?”

And how could you deny that face? Those words? So, you released your grasp over him and watched him flood from the bedroom. Not a minute later you heard rummaging in the kitchen, as your loving boyfriend began to prepare a cup of tea for you.

In his absence, you tried - and failed - to get comfortable in bed again. Your book was long forgotten on your nightstand, and your throat had gotten so progressively worse over a few minutes that swallowing was starting to hurt.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take waiting any longer, Minho walked through your bedroom door with a huge, steaming mug in his hands. “It’s lemon-chamomile flavour… I added some honey for extra comfort, too.” He said as he placed it into your outstretched palms.

“Thank you, baby- don’t deserve you.” You mumbled in a quiet voice, offering him a tiny smile.

“Does it hurt to talk?” He asked as he turned off the lamp on your nightstand before rounding the bed and joining you on his side. He got comfortable underneath the thick duvet before switching off the last remaining light in the bedroom.

Everything was thrown into darkness around you, and for a moment, you were disoriented. But then you felt a familiar hand reach over to you and grasp one of your free hands, squeezing slightly, and you relaxed into your pillows.

“Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off into the night as you took a sip of the tea. It was piping hot, but even still, felt amazing as it went down. You could already feel the chamomile and honey concoction soothing your discomfort away. “This tastes amazing, Min. Thank you.”

Minho snuggled deeper into the covers, shivering a few times from the chill in the air. It was the dead of winter and even with the heat blasting throughout your shared apartment, your place always seemed to have a cold draft traveling between the few rooms. “I’m glad you like it.” Your boyfriend’s voice was heavy, indicating that he was truly exhausted.

You leaned over to him and carded a few fingers through his dark, chestnut-brown hair. “Now, go to sleep, you workaholic. You’ve got a jam-packed schedule for the rest of the week.” You said into the quiet that had suddenly fallen over the bedroom.

Your words suddenly had Minho groaning into his pillow, “Don’t even fucking remind me about tomorrow’s schedule- it’s gonna be hell, for sure,” he began in that deep voice of his that would always come out late at night. You had told him many times in the past that you loved the sound of it, to which he cockily said that he’d try to stay up later with you so that way you could hear it more and gush over how sexy he sounded. Secretly, he loved the praise… a little too much, if you were truly honest with yourself. “You’ll be okay to go to bed?” He suddenly asked, bringing you out of your reverie of thought on his sultry ‘night voice.’

“Just fine,” you whispered, snuggling down under the sheets. You could already feel the heat that was radiating off of Minho’s body, as he slowly warmed the two of you up just with his hot-blooded self alone.

“Okay, then… goodnight, my baby. Feel better in the morning, yeah?”

“Goodnight Min. And sure, I’ll try to.” You replied in a quiet voice.

And then there was no reply from your boyfriend, as he swiftly drifted off to dreamland. After you had finished your tea, you snuggled up against him, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing your back against his inviting, bare chest. The chamomile had helped immensely to take the ache in your throat away, and in no time at all, you were joining Minho in dreamland.

When you woke up the next day, your throat hurt like a bitch. You had thought that the night before had been bad, but nothing compared to how dry and scratchy it felt so early in the morning.

Turning over on your side with a groan, you cracked your eyes open against the bright light shining through from the bedroom’s large bay window. You noticed how Minho’s space was already empty. You shifted a palm across his pillow, noting the coldness of the satin fabric.

Stumbling out of bed a few minutes later, you realized how quiet the apartment was. With a glance at the nearby clock on your nightstand, the time read just past seven in the morning. Minho was already long gone.

Since your sore throat had only gotten worse overnight, you deemed yourself unfit to go to work that day. So after having called up your manager and telling her that you had to take a sick day, you slowly got ready for the day. The hot shower worked somewhat in relieving your throat pain, but not by much. And by the time you had dried your hair, brushed your teeth, and thrown on some comfy sweats and one of the many hoodies that you had stolen from Minho throughout your relationship, a spilling migraine had begun to bloom across your temples.

“Just my luck…” You mumbled to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. With a glance around the adjacent living room/dining room, you noticed how the apartment looked more tidy than usual. Your boyfriend must’ve cleaned the place before he left early that morning. The thought of him picking up because you didn’t feel well left a wide smile on your face as your trudged to the fridge.

Having opened the thing, you noticed a huge soup pot that was covered with a lit, sitting on the middle shelf. A note was attached to the top of it, and it read,

Baby,

Made some rice porridge for you this morning. Didn’t have time to wake you up to tell you, so only kissed you goodbye. Text me after you’re finished eating- I haven’t made the recipe in a while and want to know how I did.

Love you, and hope you feel better,

- Min XX

You felt the emotions rising inside of you as you read the small note again, and soon, your eyes were turning watery from unshed tears. He truly was the best boyfriend ever. Minho was the type of guy who liked to share his love for you in actions. He loved cooking for you and cleaning for you. But over time, since you two had started dating, he had slowly become more expressive with his feelings through words as well. It was a nice change that you gladly welcomed and it made your heart all fuzzy to know that he was trying to be a better lover for you alone.

In no time at all, you had heated a portion of rice porridge for yourself. It was chock full of tender, flavourful chicken, and tons of veggies - like carrots, mushrooms, and even zucchini. You drizzled some fish sauce and soy sauce on top of it and used the chopped-up scallions that Minho had left for you to garnish the porridge.

You took a picture to send to your boyfriend before you dug into the meal. And instantly, you felt so much better. The heat of the porridge slid down your throat and coated your insides with a fuzzy, comforting feeling. It was so very delectable and you finished it in just a few minutes. After you were done eating, you made sure to take some ibuprofen that you had on hand to try and combat the splitting migraine that was upon you.

Sending the picture you had taken earlier of your meal, you quickly texted Minho.

Min Today 10:03

Me: Just had the porridge… WHY have you never made this for me before?! It was amazing!!

Within a minute, he texted back.

Min: Wow, I had no idea you’d like it that much, I’ll have to make it again. It makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed it. :) Did it help with your sore throat? You looked to be in discomfort when I left this morning…

Me: Yes! The porridge really soothed me, I feel better already!

Min: Ok, I’m glad then :) You took off work today, right?

Me: I mean, yeah, since I can barely talk :(

Min: Awe baby :( I’m so sorry. Just rest today, I’ll try to be home earlier than I was last night.

Me: I’ll just be laying in bed all day haha… and ok, have a good day at work! Love you <3

Min: Love you too <;33

Staring at the bright screen of your phone was only making your headache worse, so you turned it off and trekked back to your bed. The exhaustion hit you as soon as your back hit the soft mattress, and halfway through the comfort movie you had turned on on the tv, you were already drifting off to sleep.

Late that same night, the fever started. At first, your cheeks were just flushed, which could happen from time to time. But then, the back of your neck started to feel warm too. And soon, it felt like your entire body had been doused in a scorching hot pit of lava.

Keeping to his word, Minho arrived home an entire hour earlier than the night before. When he walked through the apartment’s front door at eleven with both hands full of groceries, you immediately stood up from the living room couch to help him unpack.

“No, no- I’ve got it. Go sit back down,” he insisted, trying to shoo you away with his hand as he placed the many bags atop the kitchen counter.

You peeked into one of them and saw a huge box of multi-flavoured popsicles. “What’s all this for?” You mumbled in a weak voice.

“You, my dear… want to cook some good meals to help you feel better,” Minho said, turning you towards him so that he could get a good look at your face. When he noticed the deep crimson flush that stretched across your cheeks and traveled down to the part of your next that was exposed from your - formerly his - baggy hoodie, his brows furrowed. “Baby, do you feel warm?” The light in his eyes flashed with concern as he gently pressed a hand against your cheek and forehead.

“Y-yeah, a little…”

“You’re burning up,” Minho said, voice a little panicked as he led you back over to the living room couch, the groceries suddenly forgotten. You had only ever gotten a fever once before in all the time that you two had been dating, and it hadn’t been all that bad, to begin with. And it sure as hell hadn’t made you feel as hot as you did just then. “Here, let me get the thermometer.”

Then he was gone from your side and rushing into your bedroom, in search of the only thermometer you kept on hand. Resting against the couch, you tried to focus on anything else but the soreness in your throat and the heat that flooded through your veins just then. The headache had come back with a vengeance a little earlier that night, the ibuprofen wearing off fairly quickly. Much to your demise.

Minho was beside you again a few minutes later, thermometer in hand. “Baby, open for me,” he instructed, and you opened your mouth slightly so that he could slide the small thing under your tongue. The metal felt cold against your teeth, and time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly, as you two sat there on the couch and waited for the reading. When it finally beeped loudly, Minho took it out and inspected it. “Nighty-nine-point-eight. You’ve definitely got a fever.”

You closed your eyes then, resting an arm across your eyes and groaning into the crook of your elbow. Even your eyelids felt hot. “Fuck- I’ll have to take off more sick days from work. I really can’t afford to do that-”

“Kitten, I think that’s the least of your worries right now,” your boyfriend said softly just beside you. You felt his hand wrap around your knee and squeeze the skin there gently. “I’m going to get some cold rags, okay? Just- stay here.” By the way that his voice had turned a little high-pitched, you could tell how he was slowly starting to get stressed out about the whole thing. Which was saying a lot, since there wasn’t much in the world that could stress him out.

The two of you rarely fell ill, and when you did, it was always a mild case of the cold. So for you to have so many symptoms all at once, must’ve been very overwhelming for your boyfriend. But, what could you do? The sickness was here, and it was here to stay…

You felt something cold press against your forehead amid your thoughts, and you cracked your tired eyes open to glimpse Minho leaning towards you on the couch, two other wet washcloths in hand.

“These will help to cool you down,” he explained, as he helped move you forward a little bit so that he could place the second cloth behind your neck. Then you let him guide you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, limbs sprawled out. You were too sapped of energy to even ask what he was doing as he gingerly lifted your oversized hoodie. When you felt the coldness of a third, and final washcloth press against your stomach, you understood his sudden actions. “You should take some ibuprofen, that’ll help bring your fever down.”

“I can’t take it without first eating something.”

“Then I’ll make you some food- did you have dinner?”

You shook your head no, the motion only making your pounding headache worse. You winced and grabbed at your head, massaging one of your temples.

“How about I heat some of the rice porridge from earlier?” Minho offered before standing up from his kneeling position on the ground.

But just as he was about to leave your side, you stopped him by grasping at the fabric of his dark-blue sweatpants by his knees. He was still sweaty from the apparent dance practice that he had been doing in the studio just before he came home. “No- I- I’m too nauseous to eat anything right now.” You mumbled, voice cracking a little bit from the pain that was solidly rooted in your throat. Your cheeks were so hot, it felt like you had gotten a sunburn while laying out on the beach, when in reality- you had been lying around your apartment all day, not even catching a single glimpse of the sun through the hazy January clouds outside.

“Okay, well, maybe you can take the medicine later when you feel a little better,” Minho said. He was squatting down at your side then, brushing back your hair from your forehead. “Just rest on the couch here while I put the groceries away, and then we can go to bed.”

You nodded in understanding, too tired to say anything else as he kissed your hot cheek and finally pulled away from your side.

That night turned out to be absolutely horrendous.

You tossed and turned throughout it, not being able to get comfortable. The cold washcloths had done little to help bring your fever down, and the throat lozenges that Minho had gotten for you at the grocery store earlier merely coated your throat in this weird aftertaste that left you coughing for half of the night.

Not to mention the headache.

Which had turned into a full-blown migraine.

The ache wrapped around your entire head, and it felt like someone had your skull in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing the very life out of it.

Your boyfriend, who stayed up with you for the entirety of the night, was a literal fucking saint. He made trips into the bathroom every hour to dampen your washcloths with cold water again and regularly made you tea to try and help relieve your throat.

“Min- baby- you need to stop helping me now,” you whispered through the daze of tiredness. Because if you were drained, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend had to feel - what with having worked for the better half of sixteen hours that day. “You have so much on your plate right now, I can’t expect you to stay up all night just because I’m feeling like shit.”

“S’okay, I’m not sleepy…” But the way his quiet voice drifted off at the end of his words proved differently to you.

You turned on your side in bed, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend’s slumped form through the faint moonlight that shined through the bedroom window’s curtains. His shoulders were hunched over, his head hanging low, as he massaged languid circles into the palm of your closest hand.

“Yes, you are. Now, go to sleep.” You said firmly, pushing on his shoulders so that his head hit his pillow.

At your forceful movement, his eyes shot open. “I can’t leave you like this- baby, you’re in so much fucking pain right now. I-I feel horrible that I can’t help you more.” He said, his tone desperate. He threaded his fingers through yours then, squeezing a little desperately, trying to convey how strongly he felt about staying up with you and helping you practically survive the night.

“I know babe, I know…” You pushed away a few locks of his dark, chestnut-brown hair that had fallen in front of his face, giving him a soft smile. “But you need to sleep now, okay? That’s how you can help me feel better- by going to bed. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.”

Minho was silent for a few beats, as you stared into each other's eyes. You were both incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be, but on this topic- you wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t jeopardize his packed schedule while also letting the boys down just because you weren’t feeling well.

“Alright,” he finally surrendered in a defeated-sounding voice. “But, you’ll wake me up if anything happens, right?”

“Of course.” You leaned down into him and gave the crown of his head a soft kiss. “Love you, Min.”

“Love you too…” He said, his eyes already closed. And just like that, you watched his face relax, body melting into the soft downy mattress, as he finally drifted off to sleep.

And hopefully, you’d soon join him in blissful sleep as well.

Turns out that you didn’t get a wink of shut-eye that night, tossing and turning underneath your thin sheet - you had thrown off the thick duvet coverlet that had been laid on top of you early on in the night. A thick coating of sweat covered your entire body, even with the cold washcloths still placed on you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had been out like a light.

In your sleepless, frail daze, you hadn’t managed to catch him as he left for work early the next morning. But as soon as your eyes opened, your head throbbed from the bright light flooding through your bedroom’s curtains, and a strong wave of nausea overtook you.

You shot from your bed and barely made it to the bathroom. You leaned over the toilet bowl and hurled up the little contents that were left inside of you. The only thing you had eaten the day before was the rice porridge that Minho had made for you in the morning and two strawberry-mango-flavoured popsicles to try and ease your throat.

It still hurt like hell, and your head was pounding from your migraine. When you leaned back from the toilet, a loud groan escaped past your lips from the distress that you were in. You sat there on the cold, tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, just taking in deep breaths and trying to persuade yourself to get up when all you felt like doing was tipping over and passing out from exhaustion.

In the end, you managed to get up from the hard ground and brush your teeth before making your way back to your nightstand, where you had glimpsed a small piece of paper placed just atop your latest pick from your local library. The nightstand’s clock read just half-past ten o’clock in the morning.

You probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Try to take a nap sometime today when you can.

You need to eat something, but, if you’re too nauseous, at least drink lots of water. There’s some Pocari Sweat in the fridge, so drink plenty of that.

And please, try to take some ibuprofen if you can. It will help bring down your fever. Checked it before I left, temp is now at 102.8. It should’ve broken in the night.

Call/text me whenever you want to, I’ll be available all day and will be home even earlier than yesterday.

Love you, Minho XX

Even through your confused state of pain and weariness, a smile graced your lips at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Since you rarely got sick, it was uncommon for you to experience this exact side of him. It was a whole kind of new Lee Minho, and to be honest, you quite liked it. And although the doting could be a little excessive and suffocating, it was the thought that counted, right?

Somehow, you found enough energy inside of you to get up from your comfy bed and into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your skin, and did wonders for your bad migraine. You stood under the spout for at least twenty minutes - maybe even more than that. And when you were too tired to keep standing, you sat down on the cold tile of the stall. The steam that the scalding water emitted all around you also helped to calm your inflamed throat down, and you basked in the comforting feeling for quite a while.

It was only after you stepped out of the shower, legs slightly wobbly, that you realized your mistake.

You had a fucking fever, for God’s sake-

It should’ve been very obvious to you-

Not to take a scalding hot shower for that long.

Even still, there was no turning back. And almost immediately, you felt the repercussions of your actions. As you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body and grabbed for the blow dryer, you suddenly felt very lightheaded.

And not the kind of lightheaded that you would sometimes get if you stood up from a sitting position too quickly.

No, this kind of lightheadedness was the kind where you felt like you were about to fucking pass out.

Just then, you realized how hot your entire body felt. You thought that it had been bad before- but nothing compared to the sheer heat that radiated off of your body.

With a racing heart and shaking limbs, you slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching onto the wall for support. Your vision was going in and out, turning so blurry that you could barely see in front of you.

You fumbled around your nightstand for your phone, and with quaking fingers, you dialed Minho’s number as fast as you could. You were standing just beside your bed, legs feeling like they were about to give out on you. You were so weary and confused and felt like you were about to fall over, so half of what you were doing didn’t even make sense to you. But you knew that you had to get ahold of your boyfriend- in that scary moment, that was the most important thing to you.

The phone rang once,

Twice,

Three times.

Please, just fucking pick up-

Please don’t be in a meeting or at practice or-

“Baby? I’m so glad you called, how are you-” His gentle, serene voice rang out across your phone’s speaker that was pressed to your ear.

You let out a sob of relief, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks. “M-Min, I-I can’t-“ It was hard for you to speak over the dizziness and confusion.

“Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” Minho’s voice immediately turned frantic at your mumblings.

“S-So dizzy- got out of the shower and- and gonna pass out- help me, Min, please-” It felt like your knees were about to buckle just then, but Minho’s voice cut through your heated stupor.

“Lie down right now, baby. You close to the bed?”

“Y-yeah-”

“Lie down, completely stretch out your body. Can you do that for me?”

You said nothing more, shifting towards your bed and collapsing on top of it with a tiny gasp of exhaustion. “I-I’m on it-”

“I’m leaving the company right now,” Minho’s exclamation broke through your daze of fatigue.

“W-What? Baby- no, don’t- you have an important recording today and-”

“To hell with the schedule!” He was suddenly shouting through the phone, making you pull it away from your ear from the loudness. It only made your headache worse. When he heard your whimper of pain, he began speaking again but in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, baby- it’s just that, the company can’t expect me to go to work when the fucking love of my life is about to pass out from the flu that she has.” His voice was much calmer this time and helped to soothe your racing heart a little bit. Your limbs were still shaking though, your vision going in and out.

There was silence on both your ends, as your slow mind processed his words. You heard shuffling on his line and muffled voices. Then he was talking to someone - it sounded like Chan - their whispers were hard to hear over the static of the phone.

“Baby?” Minho’s voice cut through your tiredness. You opened your eyes weakly, trying to focus your attention on the painting that hung on the wall just beside your flatscreen tv. It was of a single, pink tulip positioned in a grassy field. The piece was something that Hyunjin had gifted you for your birthday in the past year. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get home, okay? Just keep talking to me - about anything - just don’t close your eyes, alright?”

His instructions seemed like absolute torture to you right then, because all you wanted to do was close your eyes and let go - let your mind drift off into wonderland for even a few blissful seconds. “I’ll try,” you started, voice quiet as you nuzzled into the bed’s thick duvet that was still messed up from the night before. You hadn’t found the energy to make it yet. “I-I threw up this morning.”

“Oh, darling- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there… but, I’ll be there soon, yeah? I’ll take care of you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” His tone was laced with concern, and a tiny smile spread across your lips at how attentive he was being toward you.

The entire thirty-minute commute that he took every day from your apartment to the company, you stayed on the line with your boyfriend, talking about whatever came to your mind. You were still nauseous, so food was never brought up, mainly just the changing weather and what you wanted to do that weekend since he’d have a break from schedules that Saturday, which was quite a rare occurrence for him.

Laying down on the bed had helped your dizziness somewhat, but every time you shifted just a little bit, your vision would go blurry again. It was annoying as fuck, to add yet another symptom to your myriad of other problems.

“I’m pulling up to the apartment right now, so I’ll hang up. Wait for me, baby.” Minho finally said after what felt like an eternity of him traveling home from the company. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’ before he hung up the call.

True to your promise, you kept your eyes open, laying as still as a statue on the bed. You were back to studying Hyunjin’s flower painting just as you heard the front door’s keypad being used. A breath of relief left you as shuffling echoed throughout the one-bedroom apartment, and in no time at all, there your boyfriend was- rushing into your bedroom with a wild look in his eyes and flushed cheeks, his dark brows furrowed.

“Kitten-“ he breathed out in a sight of relief at the sight of your still-awake form, “C’mere.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door before he was bounding towards you. In one swift movement, he was lifting you off the bed, taking you up into his arms, and cradling your head against his chest as he sat back down on the bed’s plush mattress.

The tears started again almost as soon as he had you in his arms. Your sobs wracked through your body, as he brushed soothing fingers through your hair. You knew that crying would only make your migraine worse, but you couldn’t give a flying fuck about anything just then. You were just so happy to see your boyfriend, after such a disastrous morning.

“Y-You came back for me,” you sniffled after a long bout of silence that was filled with only your cries. You pulled away from his chest, looking up at him through blurry vision. “I-I was so scared, Min.”

Minho swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes, gently catching your falling tears with the pads of his soft fingers. “Of course I did, baby. I love you… and it kills me to see you this way. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“Just glad you’re here now,” you whispered, clutching onto his waist a little harder. “I’ll feel better now with just your presence alone… but, how long are you staying for?”

He tucked a few strands of your still-sopping wet hair behind your ear. In your dizziness, you hadn’t found the time to dry it yet. “Not leaving you again, darling. The company gave me the day off, Chan helped me persuade them.”

“B-But you’re gonna miss such an important day of schedules and-”

Your boyfriend shushed you with a slender finger to your lips. “It’s already done now, Y/N. So let’s just focus on helping you feel better, alright? By firstly, getting you dressed.”

You looked down and realized that you were still only clad in your soaked towel. “Wow, I didn’t even realize I was still in this…” Your voice trailed off, as Minho placed you back down on the bed and made for your walk-in closet.

“Is it a sweatpants and hoodie kinda day again?” He asked as he poked his head into the closet.

“A-Actually, I’m too hot to wear anything thick,” you managed to stutter out, perched at the edge of the bed. And soon enough, your loving, doting boyfriend emerged from the closet with a pair of soft, black cotton shorts and a thin, maroon-colored camisole.

“Will this do?” He questioned, holding up the items for you to inspect them from across the room.

Wordlessly, you nodded your approval. And soon enough, he was shifting his way toward you. In no time at all, he had helped slip the shorts up your bare legs, the loose waistband resting gently against your hips. Then, he guided the camisole over your head, gently pulling the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders.

“All good?” Leaning forward, he tucked a piece of your wet hair that had fallen into the front of your face behind your ear.

“Mhm- but my hair’s still wet from the shower,” you mumbled, staring up into his dark pupils that were dancing with a myriad of emotions - but especially, concern. “Carry me?” You asked, reaching out your arms to him, supple and waiting, like a small baby that wanted to be carried by someone they trusted.

“Always, kitten.” He whispered, just as he pulled you up into his hold. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he charged for the bathroom. And soon, you were sitting atop the granite counter, as he ran his fingers through your hair.

The blow dryer was loud in your ears, and the heat from it only seemed to raise your temperature even more. You still had your legs wound around Minho’s torso as he worked with nimble fingers to dry your hair. You tipped your head towards his hand every time he ran a brush through your locks.

When he was finished, he pressed a palm against your forehead for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re still burning up, baby…” His voice trailed off, as he leaned across the counter, grabbing a stray hair bobble. He pulled your hair away from your face and fitted it into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. Immediately upon the feeling of your thick locks being out of your face, a content sigh of relief escaped past your lips. “I really need you to take that ibuprofen, honey.” A deep frown bloomed across his lips, turning his mouth downwards in a displeased kind of way.

“My migraine isn’t as bad as it was earlier, so I think I can choke something down now.” You said. Your eyes were still closed, as you breathed in the familiar scent - of warm, dark roasted coffee and cinnamon sticks - of your boyfriend.

And in no time at all, he had you seated on the living room couch, your eyes trailing over the food that he prepared for lunch. There was a bowl of the porridge that he had made the day before, a piece of plain, white buttered toast, and a yellowed banana. Not to mention the medicine set off to the side with a tall glass of water.

“Eat, baby.” Your boyfriend took hold of the tray that the food was on and positioned it on your lap.

He was sitting beside you on the couch, gaze locked on your form with a certain kind of intensity that would make you anxious if you didn’t know him so well. The intensity he had was only borne out of concern. He so desperately wanted you to get better, that’s all.

“Thank you, Min… it looks delicious.” You pecked his cheek gently, watching as a soft smile cracked across his lips before you delved into the lunch.

You had to admit, the food was exceptionally good. The porridge helped to alleviate your throat, and the bread filled your stomach comfortably. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had truly been until you started eating. But halfway through the meal, you stopped when you noticed how your boyfriend hadn’t moved from his spot of watching you.

“Aren’t you going to join me?” You asked, motioning towards your spoon that was laden with porridge.

He shook his head slowly, “Want to take care of you first, that’s all.”

You gave him a deep frown. “Min, you're already taking care of me. Just making this meal is enough for me.”

“I know, but I wasn’t here earlier- don’t want to take my eyes off you for even a second, in case something happens.”

“I’m not going to pass out, baby. I’m fine now. So please, eat some lunch, yeah?”

“You still have the flu, Y/N. Just because you haven’t passed out yet doesn’t mean you won’t in the future,” Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest, canting his head to the side, eyes trailing on your red-cheeked face. “And I want to be sure I’m here to catch you if that happens.”

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence…” You grumbled softly, turning your attention back to your cooling porridge. There was no use fighting him on the matter anyway. He was a stubborn mule when he wanted to be, and apparently, Minho would run himself ragged before he ever looked away from you again.

It was only after you had finished your lunch, and had downed four ibuprofen pills and a glass of water with it, that Minho finally got up from the couch to put your dishes away and make something for himself. He rounded the couch a few minutes later, pressing a cold washcloth against your head. The sudden coolness surprised you, and you slightly sat up from your laying position on the couch to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend.

Minho took a seat at the end of the couch, near your feet, a plate of food in his hands. For his meal, he was having a rather bland-looking sandwich, with a green apple sliced thin set off to the side.

“That’s all you’re having to eat?” You raised an eyebrow at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him.

His gaze was already on you even before you met his stare, as he bit into his sandwich. “Don’t pass judgment on my habits when you hadn’t eaten anything until just now.”

“But I’m the one who’s sick here…” You protested, shaking your head in disapproval at the lack of food on his plate. He was a growing guy, always in the gym, always straining his body for work. He needed to eat enough to fuel himself properly. Changbin was always harping about such things to the boys, but especially, your boyfriend. Since, as Changbin put it, ‘he never seems to get enough macros in for his height and weight range.’ Whatever the hell that meant.

To that, Minho said nothing, merely biting into his sandwich once more. His silence only made you more agitated with him, and that, coupled with your slightly-pounding migraine and your drowsiness only helped to add fuel to the fire.

“I”m worried about you, Min… you need to eat more if you want-”

“You’re worried?” He suddenly let out a dry, humorless scoff. And instantly, you recognized his tone. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. It changed from the intensity he had from caring for you, to the intensity that he always got whenever he was worked up. Whenever he was worked up about you, and your safety. “I’m the one who’s fucking worried here, Y/N!” He practically burst out in a loud voice, throwing his plate down on the nearby coffee table in his sudden exclamation.

“Minho-” You began in a soft voice but you were quickly cut off by his raising voice once more.

“Do you have any fucking idea how scary it was to get a call from you this morning and have you practically fighting for your very life to not pass out right then and there?” He ran a few frantic fingers through his hair, clutching at the roots, slightly bending over, and resting his elbows against his knees. “Because damn it- I was practically shaking from all the worry. And then I come home and find you literally naked and sopping wet and crying and-” Just then, his voice cracked, his words fading off into the distance.

And in the next beat, you were moving. Towards him, so that you were right up in his personal space. You took hold of one of his hands, pulling it away from tugging at his locks of brown hair. Squeezing your fingers between his own, you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand.

“Baby, I’m so sorry… it’s my fault that everything became such a big mess. I didn’t have to take such a long, hot shower.” You admitted, giving his skin another kiss.

Minho pulled his head up just then, as it had dropped between his hunched shoulders in his distress. His eyes slid over to yours instantly. “Don’t apologize, none of this is your fault. You were only trying to relieve your symptoms, I get it.” He held onto your hand a little tighter, like in that moment, he needed to be grounded in the reality of you. That you were still there with him, still living and breathing, albeit tired as hell and ill to the bone. But still, there nonetheless. “And please, just... don’t leave me, okay? I can’t lose you, baby… I can’t…” His voice became a tiny whisper at the end of his words, misery flashing across his face, radiating deep in the way that his eyes softened at the sight of you, his brows creasing with the tears that he could never seem to shed.

“Min, I have the flu… not the damn plague.” You laughed, lips grazing his hand again as you placed another peck against his skin. “And of course, I’m not going to leave you.”

“Good, because I’m never going to leave you either.” And suddenly, he was taking hold of you, pulling you onto his lap and burrowing his face into the crook of your exposed neck. He blew raspberry kisses against your heated skin, making you burst out into a fit of giggles. You kicked your feet up into the air, trying to escape him as his nimble fingers tickled you at your sides.

And all at once, just for a few minutes, he helped you forget about everything - about your sickness, the discomfort, and the fatigue. All of it. Helping by kissing away the swarthy thoughts and tension-filled temples.

Later that day, your fever finally broke. The medicine seemed to kick in just in time and helped to completely take away your headache. Your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but continually downing warm cups of tea was slowly helping that. You and Minho spent the day lounging around the apartment, watching random reality shows that were playing on the tv, and indulging in a whole pint of chocolate ice cream an hour before bed.

But despite having all that sugar and caffeine right before laying down, you found that sleep threatened to take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow.

“Will you go in to work tomorrow?” You asked, laying on your side and facing your boyfriend as he sprawled out in the bed just a little ways away from you.

“I don’t know… I hope not.”

“The boys will need you, baby. I think you should.”

After all, he was an integral part of the team. He couldn’t simply disappear from Stray Kids for even a few days and not have them feel the lasting effects of his absence.

“Let’s not worry about that and just focus on going to bed, okay?” He reached out to you, clutching onto your hip and pulling you towards him.

When your forehead was comfortably rested against his bare, muscled chest, you peered up at him with a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for taking care of me today, honey. I don’t deserve you…”

He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice rumbling with sleep as he spoke, “I’ll do anything for you, kitten. And of course, you deserve me- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”

Without another word said between the two of you, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your boyfriend's comforting scent washed over you, seeming to soothe a tender spot inside of you, and all at once, you were falling fast and hard into a deep slumber.

The first thing you noticed when you awoke the following morning was that for once in what felt like an eternity, the blinding morning light shining through the bedroom curtains didn’t automatically make you feel like shit. Instead, it helped to place a content feeling deep inside your heart.

And the second thing that you noticed when you awoke the following morning was the fact that your boyfriend was still in bed.

He had both arms wrapped around your waist, and when you dragged away from his chest, a muffled groan fled from his slightly-parted lips.

With a glance at your nearby clock, you noticed how it was well past the time that he usually got up for work.

Minho cracked an eye open from the shifting of your figure, a lazy smirk blooming across his mouth at the sight of your eyebrows raising on your forehead in surprise. “Guess I won’t be going in to work after all…” He said, voice husky with sleep.

You squirmed in his arms until you were loose enough to get a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and suddenly, you thought that perhaps the huskiness of his voice wasn’t just from sleep. “Why are you staying home today? I thought you said you were going to go into the office.”

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, that same smirk was still on his face. “The sore throat woke me up in the middle of the night.”

A loud groan bubbled up and out of you, as you scrubbed a frustrated hand across your face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey- well, at least you’re feeling somewhat better now… that way, you can take care of me when I nearly pass out after a hot shower.”

With that, you shoved at his shoulder gently, sending a glare his way. “This isn’t funny, Min. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to me- shouldn’t have kissed me! Now you can’t go to work for God knows how long because of this stupid flu!”

He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, batting away your worries like he didn’t have seven other boys who depended on him, like he didn’t have a whole company counting on his work, like he didn’t have millions of worldwide fans anticipating his presence. “Eh- to hell with it all, I was bored with work anyway. And besides, I cannot ever stop myself from kissing you, baby. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s hardwired into my brain as a daily need to function.” He gave you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes exasperatingly.

“You're so stupid,” you grumbled, hating the idea of seeing him go through the same pain you went through. You had survived the worst of it already, but you wouldn’t wish it on anyone - not even your worst enemy. “Well, you better promise that you won’t be a pain in my ass and actually accept my help when you need it.”

He shook his head noncommittally, “I shall make no such promises.” You felt a hand clutch at one of your sides, just as he was pulling you against his warm body once more. “Now, c’mere and give me a kiss.”

You smiled against his mouth, melting into his hold as he pressed kiss after soft kiss to your lips.

Because even though now you were both sick,

At least you had each other.

And at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered…

That Minho had you, and you had him.

So even despite feeling like a literal ball of hot, steamy garbage baking in the summer heat,

You felt like, at that moment, you could whether anything in life - any storm coming your way, any curve ball thrown at you, any toxic person coming into your path,

Just as long as you had him by your side.

As long as you had Lee Minho, your beautiful, loving, eccentric, doting boyfriend, you’d be just fine.

Fin.

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist so that you always get notified when i post a new work? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can simply send me a msg and request to be added that way~

1K notes · View notes

frownyalfred · 4 months ago

Text

20 Questions for Writers

I was tagged by @lurkinglurkerwholurks

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 146! It would be a larger number if I hadn't deleted all of my Supernatural fics back in the day. There were at least 30 of those, maybe more...

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

913,163 - I'm hoping to hit a million soon!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Batman, Superman, Justice League, Star Wars, Marvel

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Take Care of Business Everybody Wants You It Was Always You a sky of honey Anything Like Me

5. Do you respond to comments?

Not anymore :/ I have a really hard time keeping up with writing if I'm responding to comments. I hope my readers understand.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm. Probably lonely town? Dick is getting de-fibbed in the alley by Bruce, and it's not clear if he's going to survive or not.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

here as I am is hilarious if you're into jealous!Clark. otherwise the weight (salmon ladder fic) always gets me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Yep. Mostly on borderline, but on other fics too. I love how, as I've gotten better at writing, it's changed from "wow this sucks, your writing is awful" to "you suck because you chose to have [character] do this." Luckily I think most of the hate filters over here to Tumblr, where I can happily block and forget. These days, I mostly get people commenting about how I'm wrong about something. Wrong about something I researched and triple checked before posting...

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep! All of them, I think? At least, I haven't balked at much yet. I'm not really into the excrement related ones, so I think that would be one of my no-go's.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yep! bloodletting (Mandalorian/Star Wars and DC Crossover) and a few Marvel/DC crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep, a few times. What I'm more pissed about is all of my textposts being monetized over on TikTok and IG. I could be making bank off of those, considering the reach. And several of them are basically mini-fics.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! Tons. Check them out here. There's also some podfics and related works there.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really. I've made attempts but I'm really bad at it. I tend to write spur of the moment and follow my gut on where the conversation/action goes. Planning out a fic with a partner would do them a disservice, I think.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

I really love Superbat, but Codywan is right up there with it. Something about Cody being a loyal BAMF soldier and long-suffering big brother gets me.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

My vampire AU. Not because I don't want to continue but I cannot decipher my notes as to what should happen next.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very quick, I can type up a full draft in a few hours. I like natural, snappy dialogue and I think I'm good at it. I don't shy away from weird or uncomfortable situations. I'm comfortable with writing a lot of sex/etc.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I write too quickly, sometimes I get ahead of my plot. My dialogue and descriptions can sometimes be a little too bare, or I overcorrect and become too flowery. My fics take on the tone of whatever I'm thinking about at that time.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If you're confident in your language abilities, go for it. If you're just plugging it into google translate, consider why you're doing that first. Is the addition of this new language actually something someone would say in that moment? Or are we just using it to signal to the audience that they speak another language? Is there a way to show this without telling? That being said, I love using Mando'a in my Star Wars fic, and I've studied it for a while now to be able to do so.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Probably borderline or a sky of honey. Both took a ton out of me and I'm proud they're whole and standing on their own right now.

---

I'll tag anyone who wants to play! Go wild.

#ask game #fic game #writing #fic #myfic #theresurrectionist

60 notes · View notes

pineapplecrushface · 7 months ago

Text

WIP Tuesday

Something about Buck and Eddie hugging for the first time in like four years made me think about how affectionate Buck is and then this happened.

“Does it feel weird to you?” Eddie asked when Buck had returned with more beer. “Not weird. Different, I mean.”

“What, being with a guy?” Buck tipped his head back and forth in a so-so gesture when Eddie nodded. “Sometimes. I keep catching myself feeling like I’m not supposed to like something, and I have to train myself to stop.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked before he thought it through. He held up a hand. “No intimate details.”

Buck laughed, his entire face going pink. He ducked his head and took a sip of beer. “Well, that is part of it. But no, it’s more like…he, uh, he calls me baby. And he holds me. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that, because I’m bigger, right? And the women I’ve dated, they liked that I was bigger and stronger than they were. And I’m discovering I kinda like that too. But.”

“But it feels like you’re not supposed to like it,” Eddie said.

“Yeah. So there’s a lot of arguing with my own stupid hang-ups.” Buck sighed. “I really didn’t think I had that many. Not about masculinity or whatever.”

Eddie hummed, not quite in agreement, thoughtful. Would he feel weird about it if a guy held him? Probably a little. He wasn’t very physically affectionate at the best of times, although he found it easier after he’d been dating someone a while. Really, he’d only ever been perfectly comfortable touching a few people. Chris, of course, after the awkwardness of figuring out how to hold a baby. Shannon, when they weren’t fighting.

And Buck. He was very comfortable touching Buck, so there was at least one guy he wouldn’t feel totally weird about being held by. For a moment he imagined the two of them wrapped around each other and it warmed him so much he smiled down at his beer—he could almost feel it, Buck throwing his whole body into it and tucking his face into Eddie’s neck like he did when they hugged. But it would be longer than a hug, and they’d relax into it, breathe each other in. Breathe easier, probably, because they wouldn’t have to pull away. Buck would mumble Ten minutes until we have to pick up Christopher, and Eddie would rub his cheek on Buck’s neck and say You can fall asleep if you want to, baby, I’ll wake you up—

He just barely managed not to twitch so hard he spilled his beer.

“You okay?” Buck asked, leaning forward on his elbow and licking beer from his lips. “You were zoned out pretty hard.”

“No, it’s,” he said, looking around and patting himself down to feel for his phone, wallet, keys. “Uh. I just realized I have to go pick up some stuff for Marisol. A project. She has a project she’s working on and I forgot.”

It wasn’t a complete lie; Marisol did have a list of things she’d asked him to pick up at the hardware store, but she wasn’t starting until Saturday. Buck gave him a skeptical look like he knew her renovation schedule better than Eddie did—and knowing Buck, he probably did—but only nodded.

“See you later,” Eddie said, throwing him a distracted wave and fleeing—actually jogging, running away from his best friend, until he was in his truck and panting and shaking his head because he did not run.

Hmm. You kinda do though, he thought, and it was Buck’s voice, and he was right. He ran and would continue to run because this, this wasn’t a thing he needed or wanted. Right? Right.

But he couldn’t help but poke at it one more time to make sure.

Buck. Buck’s big body around him, his big warm hands sliding down Eddie’s back, Buck laughing against his lips, giving him every bit of his endless reservoir of affection and love. Buck loving him.

Eddie scrunched up his face and clenched his hands in the air before he smacked the steering wheel. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, it’s fine,” he said, smoothing his hands over the steering wheel like it was mad at him. Everything was fine. He didn’t have to think about it. He was in control of his own emotions. He was not a guy who was in love with his best friend. He was a guy who could compartmentalize and ignore uncomfortable things until they went away.

And eventually blew up in his face. But that was for future Eddie to handle. He had Frank and several excellent coping strategies and Muay Thai with his best friend's boyfriend who got to touch him all the time. It was fine. He was fine.

#911 #fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

90 notes · View notes

nerdieforpedro · 4 days ago

Text

WIP Wednesday

The last one I did may have been in September. 👀 Been a long time. Haven’t really been writing much fanfic. Stuck on different papers for school. I was tagged by @evolnoomym and she shared ideas so I will too! ❤️ @pr3ttynpiink also tagged me and looks to be cooking up some fun new fics. 🥰

I want to write something for Modern Din and Christmas to go in my series: This is the Neighborhood Din, but it will likely need a chapter between that to make sense. (Every so often I care about making sense). Also more Luke doing Jedi yoga on his lawn and Poe & Finn being boyfriends because I want it all!

I need to write a new chapter of Weddings 101 with Dieter. Kinda left on a cliffhanger and a lot happened in my mind that should be posted 🤣

There’s a little over a month until the DMAMC 2025 challenge is due, haven’t written anything. Actually forgot about it, but fear not! I’ll think of something. 👀 My character is Pero Tovar (I doomed myself by picking him 😭 like the level of difficulty). But maybe I’ll revisit a pairing I’ve done.

Random but working on a Baldur’s Gate 3 fic and bugging @perotovar (Erin beta read for me what I have so far), @megamindsecretlair reads the snippets I send her and @soft-persephone looks at the pics I send her and is honest 🤣🤣🤣). Everyone’s favorite moody (for many a legit reason) and murderous pale elf who’s a vampire Astarion and an OFC. Things that happened between these two: a lot of staring, mocking Gale (everyone’s favorite past time- he makes it easy but also the wizard is really nice insane like everyone else but nice), drying some hair, hugs and some tears. Lots of angst, fluff and comfort. Haven’t decided on smut yet, is likely but I’ll see how it reads.

Didn’t realize that A Safe Place for Us was up to chapter 7 on AO3 and only 5 on Tumblr 👀 My bad. I should be able to post one chapter on here before November ends. The formatting and graphics take me the longest. 🤓

I also have a secret Santa fic things I’m supposed to be working on for a discord group but I also have not started. 👀 Unsure of which direction it should go in. I’ll figure it out, eventually I think.

The first paragraph of chapter five of “A Safe Place for Us”:

Waking up to Dieter takes getting used to for Aisha. It’s not unwelcome, she’s just not used to someone clinging to her like he does. Every morning he stays at her apartment is one where he has his arm and head somewhere on her. Chest, stomach, thigh, back, ass one time because he enjoys scissoring her entrance wider and scooping his spend that drips out of her back in before pumping his fingers to stir his cum within her.

Yeah…chapter five is…a ride so to speak. 👀 Forgot we had a strong start.

I found a WIP that contains Marcus Pike angst:

His romantic relationships and come and gone just like yours but you always had each other. Though, you treated yours as ways to work off the need you felt for your friend. To distract yourself, even when you were with your other partners, you’d think of him during the throws of passion, even when having simple meals and they may chew too loudly. You loathed your behavior toward your partners and your friend, biting your lips to not utter his name while under someone else.

“Marcus…”

Is the only name you want to say but can’t.

Hmm….might be a good holiday one or something. 🤔

That’s the ideas for now. Always a lot and never finished. ✅ Would it be Nerdie if they were? 😎

Have a happy Thanksgiving, holiday, days off of work and stay safe!

NPT: @chaithetics @schnarfer @inept-the-magnificent @yopossum @djarinmuse @604to647 @secretelephanttattoo @magpiepills @maggiemayhemnj @murder-wife @sin-djarin @syd-djarin @morallyinept @westside-rot @tinytinymenace @sunshinehaze1 @soft-girl-musings @goodwithcheese @jolapeno @bluestar22x @clawdee @romanarose @beefrobeefcal @bitchesuntitled @bitchwitch1981

#wip wednesday #on a Thursday #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 #baldur’s gate fanfiction #marcus pike #dieter bravo #din Djarin

24 notes · View notes

sunnebeam · 1 year ago

Text

one more kiss.

DRABBLE.

pairing: kim seokjin x reader

warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (this is fiction, but please be more responsible irl), angst, cursed!reader, mentions of past deaths in which reader feels responsible for, open-ended (i'll leave it up to ur imaginations what happened next heh)

masterlist + disclaimers.

note: ok so this is just me turning most of my fic ideas into short drabbles just so i can check then off my wip list ^^ so without further ado, here's a drabble for our lovely jin! let me know what u think

Quiet nights often bring loud thoughts.

Take tonight, for instance. It's rather quiet and peaceful, fluffy clouds filtering the moonlight, no other sounds except for the beat of your heart and his. It's a tranquil night, and for an overthinker like Seokjin, it's a night of loud what-ifs.

What if he kisses you?

He'd love to. You've been together for a while now, yet he never once tasted your lips.

What if you kiss him?

You'd love to, too. But you love him more, and you won't ever let his lips find a home in yours.

You can't.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're both snuggling blissfully in bed, your clothes and his in rumpled heaps on the floor, the light sheen of sweat covering your bodies a testament to the lewd acts you both just engaged in a few moments prior.

"Hmm," you hum in acknowledgment, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin near where your head lays on his bare chest.

"Do you love me?"

You're tracing your initials now.

"Do you love me?"

"I asked first."

You're tracing his name.

"I do," you finally whisper, and feeling vulnerable, you add, "more than I should."

He halts your fingers' movements and takes your hand in his.

"I do, too," he whispers, bringing your hand to his lips, mindful of your slight hesitation when you feel his plump lips on your skin. "Will you do something for me?"

"Anything."

And that's all the permission he needs.

Flipping you over, he lays you on your back and hovers above you — a position all too familiar in lovers' bedrooms, but not in yours.

"Wait," you say, frightened at the change, "Jin, we can't—"

You've never done this before. You've only ever fucked in positions where he's pounding into you from behind. You've never had sex facing each other before. And for good reason.

He kisses your nose, and you freeze in fright at the action, at the feeling of his lips just a few centimeters from your own.

"Trust me?" he pleads, looking straight into your eyes.

It's not that you don't trust him. It's just that you know he won't be able to resist.

After all, nobody was ever able to resist.

That's just how the curse worked – with your lips luring in their prey, and their victims unable to resist.

"I can't lose you," you tell him, eyes tearing up.

And like a moth to a flame, the moment their lips touch yours...

"You won't."

...they die.

It's why you never let Jin kiss you. It's why you never have sex in missionary. You can't take any chances. You can't.

Too many people have died in the past because of you, because you were careless, because you were reckless. Too many people have died because of your kiss, and you'd be damned if you let Jin be another one of them.

"I thought you understood." A tear slips down your cheek. "I want to, I swear. But it's too dangerous, Jin."

He catches the tear and wipes it away.

"I promise I'll be careful."

Now, Jin has always been honest with you. But tonight – with you in his arms like this, with your resolve starting to waver, and with your tiny nod finally giving him silent permission – he prioritizes your peace of mind over his and decides to lie to you.

He's lying to you as he cradles you in his arms and places kisses on your neck. He's lying to you as he moves his fingers to your wet heat and preps you for him. He's lying to you as he then pumps his cock and slowly slips inside you.

"F-Fuck," you moan at the stretch, hands clutching his shoulders in a death grip. The sensation the unfamiliar position brings is too much for you, and you find yourself nearing your climax in a way you never have before.

"You're so wet," he groans, thrusting into you in a slow, sensual pace, and feeling your pussy clench uncontrollably.

"I'm so close, Jin," you whimper, not even the least bit embarrassed that you'll finish so early.

"Let go, love. It's okay."

He wants you to let go. He needs you to let go of all your fears, your burdens, your inhibitions. Everything.

He wants you to give them all to him. He needs you to let him carry them, shoulder them, bury them. For you.

Because he's your soulmate. Your one true love.

"I'm cumming!" you cry out, reaching your high.

You're coming undone around his cock, your pussy milking him and coaxing him into his own orgasm. He follows just seconds after, spilling inside you and staying there until his dick eventually softens.

He pulls out slowly and looks at you.

Your eyes are closed and you have a small, content smile on your face at this new level of intimacy you just experienced with your lover. And it's that same, content smile that prompts him to do what he does next.

He kisses you.

He kisses you because he always wondered what it would be like to kiss you, always wondered what your lips would taste like on his tongue, always wondered what your lips would feel like pressed against his own.

He kisses you because he always wanted to kiss you, always wanted to feel close to you, always wanted to experience this kind of intimacy with you.

He kisses you because he always thought about what your life would be like if you weren't crippled by your curse.

What if there's a cure? What if there's something he could do? What if, somewhere, somehow, there's a way?

And so tonight, there would be no more what-ifs.

Because he read about curses like yours and there's a theory about how only one thing can fix it.

A true love's kiss.

#bts x reader #kim seokjin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #bts fic #bts smut #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin smut #seokjin fic #seokjin smut #bts x you #kim seokjin x you #seokjin x you #jin x you #cat.writes

182 notes · View notes

saviinika · 4 months ago

Text

Just a boy standing in front of a boy

Last WIP wednesday before @codywanweek and I'm eeeeeeeeee with excitement. The clip is from a hurt/comfort fic; Cody is hurt, and Obi-Wan is leaving him voice journals so he doesn't feel like he's missed anything while in the bacta tank. Because that's what totally platonic colleagues humans do for one another.

---

“Is now a good time to tell you that as a result of my year with the Duchess during my Padawan days, Iam fluent in Mando’a? I suppose better late than never, really. I apologize for deceiving you and your brothers for so long, or making it seem like there was a necessity for private conversations around me. It was certainly never my intent; it just never seemed like a good time to tell you, especially when many of the topics of discussion were clearly not meant for my ears. I can’t say I blame you for the cold shoulder you gave both her and I during our whole escort fiasco evading Death Watch. I should have been more open about my pre-existing relationship with her. Hmm. That’s not the right phrasing. ‘Historical relationship’, perhaps. And yes, though she did say she loved me, and at one time I thought I had loved her, I would have been miserable had I stayed with her like I wanted when I was eighteen. You make my life so much brighter, my dear. I don’t think I would be a very likeable man had we never met.”

“You know, I did like Boil’s treatise on why all Jedi should have retractible cords around their wrists to better keep track of their lightsabers. I’ll be honest, for all my repeatedly reminding Anakin and Ahsoka to hold onto theirs, I think mine has decided to run away on purpose because it likes you, darling. There’s certainly no other logical reason why I lose it so often or why it always makes its way into your hands. Kyber crystal, which makes up the heart of every Jedi’s saber, is a Force-sensitive material and as such, exceedingly rare. Jedi do not choose the crystal that powers their sabers; the crystal, or crystals, choose them. And mineseems to have chosen you too. Forgive my chuckle, it’s just that every time you return it, my crystal is humming the most pleasing song. So you see, I’m afraid the evidence is strongly in your favour. Perhaps I should consider letting you train with it. You’re brilliant, and eminently capable, so basic Soresu wouldn’t be hard to pass on. If you’re going to keep finding it, you might as well be able to wield it effectively in your own defence.”

“There’s some sort of commotion happening with Rex and your Clone Force 99. You really will have to tell me the story some day of how you managed to ensure the loyalty of those four vode. They seem so far removed from your preferred method of warfare, although honestly, you did have to get your penchant for taking on BD-1s with your fists from somewhere. Anyway, Anakin is leaving with them shortly and Kix did let me go to bid them farewell under Mace’s heavy-handed supervision. To my surprise, he commented that I was looking rested and better fed. I suppose if the Master of the Order could tell that I was wearing myself too thinly, perhaps I wasn’t doing as good a job at muddling through as I thought. Oh, Helix is here now and he wants you to know that he scoffed at me for saying that. He also says that he finds these voice notes I’m making for you ador— No, I am not telling him that. Sorry for being overly familiar there, my dear. It’s hard to do this with an audience.”

#obi-wan kenobi is down bad #and he loves his commander #even though he doesn't know it yet #commander cody #codywan week 2024 #star wars the clone wars

33 notes · View notes

goddesspharo · 10 months ago

Text

You wanna be makin' moves on the street? Have no attachments. Allow nothing to be in your life that you cannot walk out on in thirty seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner. For me, the sun rises and sets with her, man.

#okay but hear me out #heist!au #maybe they're all in on it? maybe it's a triple cross? maybe it is cops and robbers if everyone is a robber #heat #(by way of tequila sunrise?)#i do need someone to stop me from doing this #hmm how many WIPs is too many WIPs?#glen powell #monica barbaro #miles teller #top gun #hannix #*

15 notes · View notes

angelpuns · 1 year ago

Text

CW FOR DISCUSSION OF RELIGON, RELIGOUS THEMES, RELIGOUS TRAUMA, SPECIFICALLY CATHOLICISM.

CW FOR MULTIPLE EYES/MANY EYES

I said I'd work on some villain sketches tonight so I did!!! I'm not totally in love with my Shredder design just yet- mostly just the armor. I can't reveal his actual face jus tyet cause spoilers and all that big teehee

Baron Draxum, however, I put a lot of thought into his design and I actually really like what I've got so far. I decided yes actually I am going to lean into the Catholicism fuckery cause it's my religious trauma and I can get silly if I want to. Anyway his motivations have changed (not really actually)

His main goal is still to get the turtles back ( he created them with research funded by the government - they also fund the church but without proof of his research going places they've decided to no longer fund him)

It's kind of like in FMA:Brotherhood where the state alchemists have annual tests to determine whether or not their research is worth pursuing otherwise they lose their state alchemist title. It's sort of like that. Baron Draxum is a 'Catholic' priest, it's a bit warped due to being in the hidden city, but it's still definitely a Catholic church. He's also a scientist, I think in this warped version specifically they have kind of combined science and religon?

I'm still working on it.

Anyway, Baron Draxum created the turtles because he was experimenting with the mutagen, which he created.

( created from a mystery substance that the sort of underworld creatures - not sure if I wanna call em yokai yet, probably not- that birthed the hidden city creatures/mutated them way way wayyyy far back ?? again, wip onthat front) .

He originally used it to further advance his botanical studies, but then got a little silly an thought ' hmm wonder if this can change animals/humans' and yeah it can, but there's a very specific DNA trait you have to have (wip) or else it will just sort of destroy your system :/ that bit's a wip as well. Lots of this is wip stuff cause I never planned on getting so into this iteration LMAO

ANYWAY- he wasn't too impressed by Splinter because he initially didn't transform, but the turtles showed signs that they had been significantly changed. Splinter managed to escape with the turtles to the surface. He then transformed into a rat :/

Then Splinter fucking goes back to the hidden city o purpose because he knows he can have a social life there smh. Local rat man lonely so he goes back to the place where he got turned into said rat man. He's got his own issues tho-

There's more, but it's too loose to talk about soooo yeah.

I originally was gonna make Draxum a wolf, but HOW COOL WOULD IT BE IF HE WERE A WOLF/GOAT SORT OF CREATURE RIGHT????

TMNT:HME MASTERPOST

#art #fanart #digital art #comic #character design #TMNT:HME #TMNT:HME Villains #tmnt:hme info #tmnt iteration #tmnt au #tmnt #tmnt fanart #tmnt baron draxum #baron draxum design #angelpuns art #cw religon #cw religious themes #cw religion #cw religious trauma

119 notes · View notes

ninadove · 2 months ago

Note

top 5 miraculous ships?

This one is also surprisingly hard, because Miraculous is the shipping show by excellence, and they’re all pretty compelling! That being said —

1. Feligami

Hopefully there’s no doubt about it by now. They single-handedly kicked me out of a months-long writer’s block, and ever since I’ve written paragraph over paragraph about them... with no intention to stop! 💜❤️

2. Lukadrien

With how much I talk about the Sentikids, you’d almost forget Luka was my favourite character back in season 3! Every time I write him, he and Adrien go heart-eyes over each other. It’s almost against my will at this point.

There’s so many interesting things to explore about them, from the angstiest to the sweetest. Luka feeling left out in Wishmaker only to bask in love in Migration. Adrien opening up about his Aspik trauma to someone who can understand. Luka being, to this day, the only person who figured out Chat’s identity. Two very pretty boys who are unlucky in love and terrible at getting what they want... Has anyone ever written Luka x Cat Walker? Lukatwalker? I think someone should write Lukatwalker. Don’t look at me, I have too many WIPs already!

3. Lukadrinette & Adrino

See, that’s where rankings get complicated, because where the Hell do I put Lukadrinette hmm? Hmmmmm? I love the three of them together more than I love Adrinette and Lukanette individually, but less than Lukadrien on its own. It’s a question of balance, I think.

And at the same time, Adrino. There’s just something so comforting about them. The warmth of it all! The dorky flirting in Rocketear! Nino being willing and ready to throw hands with Gabriel since the early episodes of season 1! I love Lukadrien, I love Lukadrinette, but there are universes in which my brain won’t accept any endgame other than Adrino. The Reverse is one of them — all it took was that one conversation between Adrien and Claw and BOOM!!!!! Clawdrino!!! They’re kissing as we speak. I follow the brainworms where they take me.

“But Nina!” I hear you ask, “why not get the best of both words by writing Lukadrino?” to which I reply that you are so right. I’m very curious to see where that might lead us. Unfortunately I am, as previously established, battling an army of WIPs, so the exploration will have to wait.

4. Ladynoir

For the Strikeback of it all. And the London special of it all, too! Marichat was my favourite side of the Love Square for a very long time, but recently I’ve had a craving for…

5. Adribugnoire. Or whatever it’s called.

I’m a hurt/comfort enthusiast, so this surprises absolutely no one. It’s perfect to explore Mari’s crushing responsibilities and her relationships to the people in the know (Kagami Felix Kagami Felix Nathalie Kagami Felix Plagg Bunnyx Kagami FELIX FELIX FELIX). It’s perfect to explore the Sentilore, which you know is my brand. It’s perfect because if I’m going to put a character through the angst machine, you better believe it’s going to be Adrien. It’s perfect because have you seen Bug Noire??? She’s so pretty!!! The London special spoiled me so much!!!

Special mentions:

Julerose and Marcaniel are very cute, of course. DJWiFi I think works best as a QPR, but I might be biased because Kittybella!!! I love Kittybella. Zoenette is also cute. I love Alyanette and especially Loveyalya, the pining is simply excellent. Speaking of the Loveybug AU, Loveyblanc… All these dynamics are so fun to play with, but I rarely get around to it because the Sentikids take up so much of my writing time. As they should! 💚💜❤️

And then there’s the box of ships I don’t want to be canon/endgame, but which I think bring something extremely interesting to the story. Feligami would not be as compelling as it is if it weren’t for Adrigaminette. The plot would not exist at all without Gabeminath. Cholila has so much narrative potential. I’m not rooting for them, but I enjoy what they bring to the table!

Thanks for the ask! 💜❤️

#miraculous ladybug #feligami #lukadrien #lukadrinette #adrino #lukadrino #ladynoir #adribugnoire #ask games

18 notes · View notes

tgmsunmontue · 4 months ago

Text

Season to Taste - 2/? WIP

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

“What is your name?”

“Bradley Bradshaw.”

Leandro blinks at him and he’s not sure if it’s the name or if they simply sound too similar to one another.

“Hmm. I will call you Lee… like Leonardo. You like pizza too much. And you are American like turtles…”

“Do you want me to wear an orange bandana while I’m at it?” Bradley jokes.

Leandro laughs and pats his face.

“Silly boy. Leonardo wears blue. Michaelangelo wears orange.”

… … …

2016

Filming has wrapped for the morning and he finally gets to walk around without a crew trailing his every step. They’re still taking shots, but they’re not filming him, which he is supremely grateful for because he wants to go back and actually do some proper shopping, not just the stuff for cooking later, but items he saw in passing and knew he wanted to go back and get. He has time. It’s a proper farmers market, there are even livestock for sale off to the side, although he’s been told that’s not every week, more like once a month. He walks without any direction, there are different avenues set up, some with raw produce, meats, baking, candles, soaps, art works and carved pieces of wood. Another with preserves and pickles, little wafers to the side so people can taste them. He takes his time and tries everything he can, loves places like this, everything so fresh and everyone so friendly. Even if they know who he is.

He’d never imagined that his life would take this many twists any turns, that he’s now a celebrity chef, one everyone considers self-taught, despite the fact he insists that Leandro and Silvia taught him, along with the whole extended Gallo family and their friends. He’s got fifteen years of experience now, the last seven though being the wildest. He’d been spotted in the background of the show with the British celebrity. Sought out and asked if he’d do a little cooking segment, then they’d found out he could do it in multiple languages. He’d been popular. More popular than anyone had anticipated and then he’d been asked to do a longer running show.

In amongst it all he’d ended up with an agent and a manager. Leandro and Silvia had sat him down and made him plan things out, made him call Ice and tell him. He still hasn’t spoken to Mav, and he knows he’s maybe being immature and holding a grudge but Mav hasn’t ever reached out himself, or apologized or, even better, explained. So, it is radio silence there and he knows that Ice is likely keeping Mav updated with his goings-on, but he is okay with that as long as Ice doesn’t push him to forgive him.

He’s stepping back from a stall, thanking them when he bumps into someone, apology already on his lips when the other person is also apologizing.

“No, my fault. Sorry.”

“Both our faults then,” the man says, and he’s tilting a cowboy hat back and he’s got a fucking toothpick sticking out from the corner of his mouth. He’s also wearing a sinfully tight white t-shirt and tight jeans, which are either old and worn, or just doing a poor job at containing some very nice-looking thighs. Bradley licks his lips. There are other appetites he hasn’t indulged in a while either.

“You from around here?”

“Uh. No. Just here for work…” Bradley says, and he can see the guy trying to place him, figure out why he recognizes him. It’s happening more and more often now, people recognizing him in the street and out of context.

“What’s your name?”

“Um. Bradley Bradshaw.”

He’s waiting for the flare of recognition at the name, but there’s nothing and it’s kind of a relief. He’s not quite that famous, not a household name quite yet although the marketing team are definitely working their hardest. He looks at the guys face again does a double take, there’s something about him though which is casting him back nearly a decade, he looks so familiar and the way he’s smiling…

“And your name?”

“Jake. Jake Seresin.”

That is a hell of a coincidence. For him to also be called Jake. And Texan. He remembers the accent. Bradley imagines him nearly ten years younger, a buzz cut and baby faced…

“You remind me of someone. You ever been to Italy?”

It’s Jake’s turn to pull back, eyebrow raised and the toothpick does a little twist in and out of his mouth with his tongue and it’s kind of distracting but there is a slow roaming of his face, like he’s looking at Bradley the same way.

“Yeah. I have. Why?”

“2008?”

Jake is frowning now, clearly trying to remember what year it was, but Bradley is more and more sure the longer he looks his fill. This is his Cinderella… the one he’d always jokingly said had got away even though he hadn’t expected anything else that night.

“Yeah… my first time there…”

… … …

Jake steps back, raises his hand to cover the bottom half of the other man’s face, because the guy didn’t have a moustache, and there’s only one guy, one man, that could be asking. The night in question is seared in his mind, his first taste of freedom, his first kiss with a guy and also the overwhelming fear of doing anything more than kiss. And apparently, he’s grown a moustache and changed his name. Only one way to find out.

“Leo?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

“Holy shit… Oh. You grew up good.”

“So did you,” Leo (or is it Bradley?) replies, and his eyes show he’s clearly appreciative of how Jake looks. He’d liked Jake plenty all those years ago too. He also looks good, firm muscle and nice looking forearms and they’re both clearly checking each other out and there’s a little thrill fizzing through him because there isn’t any second-guessing his interest, no fear of getting punched for looking at him the wrong way.

“This is a coincidence and a half. You here looking for me?” Jake asks, knows it’s unlikely but he’s still going to ask. Like he’s worth being hunted down across the world. Leo-Bradley throws back his head and laughs, looks at him and gives him another once over and Jake tries not to preen too much.

“No. Not unhappy that I bumped into you though.”

“Hmm,” Jake hums, lips and teeth continuing to play with the toothpick and Bradley’s eyes track the movement. “Neither am I. Although, can I ask why you’re using a fake name?” Leo-Bradley blinks, maybe confused and Jake isn’t an idiot. “Bradley Bradshaw? Really? Trying to sound more American?”

“Well, you can call me Leo, but I am American and Bradley Bradshaw is the name on my birth certificate.”

“No shit. Really?”

“Yeah. Really.”

“American. Huh. You had me fooled…” Jake murmurs, because he may have been trying to learn Italian for the last few years because of this man. Maybe.

“I did live there for nearly a decade if it’s any consolation. Just travel quite a bit now. What are you doing here? Work?”

“Yeah, my sisters are working me into the ground even though I’m on leave. But it’s nice being out in the wide-open space.”

“I bet. What are you on leave from?”

“I’m a naval aviator. What do you do?”

Leo’s mouth drops open, but Jake has gotten used to telling the difference between someone being impressed and someone just being surprised. Leo is definitely more surprised than impressed though, his head shaking but he’s still standing close enough that Jake can feel the heat of his body.

“What’s that look for? You got something against naval aviators all of a sudden?”

The laugh that Leo lets out is pitched a little too high and Jake quirks an eyebrow up.

“I don’t have a problem with it. I just… Shit. Small world I guess. My dad was a RIO in the Navy.”

“Yeah? What does he do now?”

“Uh. He died. When I was a kid.”

“Oh shit. Sorry. Didn’t mean to put my foot in it,” Jake says, pulling a face.

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. But just a heads up that my mom is dead too, so, maybe don’t ask about her either.”

“Well. Thanks for the heads up. What is a safe topic of conversation?” Leo smirks and Jake lets out a bright laugh, the message received loud and clear, if the body language wasn’t all telling him the same thing. “So… What do you do for a job then?”

Leo blinks at him, like he’s not used to such a run of the mill question.

“I’m a chef.”

“Cool. Then I look forward to you feeding me…”

“Oh yeah, I think I can definitely manage that.”

“Think you can manage a lot more than that.”

“I’d like to give it a try…”

“Hmm. Me too.”

THREE

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

52 notes · View notes

blossomwritesthings · 1 year ago

Text

{ 𝟐𝟑:𝟒𝟏 } — 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

18+ content ahead. minors dni.

phone sex. softdom!jisung // sub!femreader. praise. teasing. fingering. sex toys (vibrator). jerking off. breast/nipple play. pet names. dirty talk.

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

At one point, you just began to loose count of how many days he had been gone.

Your boyfriend Jisung had been on tour with Stray Kids for the past few months, traveling from one country to the next. And it seemed like every day that passed, you started to forget the feeling of him.

Of how it felt to wake up next to him every single morning. Of how it felt to be held by him late into the night. Of how it felt to smell his scent on every part of your shared apartment.

But at least your daily phone calls were still a thing between the two of you.

Jisung had had the idea to do such a thing just before he left for the tour, claiming that talking on the phone late at night would be easy enough since the time zones wouldn't be too much of an issue. Plus, if it was nighttime for him, he'd most likely be done with his schedules.

"Are you tired, baby?" He was asking you, voice filtering through the speaker of your phone. It trickled out and flooded around the shell of your ear as you held your device close to your head. Since they were currently touring in Manila, the time zone difference wasn't too bad, leaving both of you to be snuggled into your respective beds for the night.

"Mhm- not too much... just, the sound of your voice always relaxes me so much..." It wasn't a lie, either. The feel of it pushing against your ear through your phone speakers did wonders to ease you into sleep at the end of every night. And you found yourself looking forward to your daily calls, while you worked hard at your job in the daytime.

It was like a nice respite, to listen to him talk about his way and make you laugh with his stupid jokes. It was especially nice if you had had a shitty day. He was the perfect salve to calm your heart no matter the circumstances.

"What're you wearing right now, darling?" He suddenly asked, voice a little husky from how much he had used it at the concert that night.

You already felt the start of a blush creeping up your neck and pooling in your cheeks. "I-I don't know, why?" You didn't know why you were getting so nervous all of a sudden. Han Jisung was your boyfriend, for goodness sake, it shouldn't have felt weird for him to ask you such an innocent question.

"C'mon, tell me." He purred in that deep voice of his that he only used on you when it was late at night and you two were playing around with each other buried deep in your coverlets.

You took a resounding, shaky breath, feeling your heart race in your chest. "I'm in my summer pajamas. You know the ones- the shorts and tank top with the light pink heart print." You found your hands traveling down to your waistline under the bedsheets, fingers toying with the drawstring of your shorts.

"Hmm- I always loved that set on you," he mused, voice sounding a little far off like he was reminiscing about what you looked like in that exact moment - sprawled out in your bed, cuddled up in the covers with the phone pressed to your ear. "I bought that for you as a gift last Valentine's Day, right?"

You ran your palm down the length of your right leg, feeling the soft fabric of the shorts as you went. "Yeah... I still think it's one of the cutest things you've ever gotten me."

He was quiet for a moment, and all you could hear was his breathing. That was turning heavier, more solid, against your ear. Then, he was speaking again, but in a tone that was a little grave and lilting. "Bet you'd look even cuter without anything on..."

"Jisung!" You blurted out, your cheeks erupting in heat from his suggestive comment. Your hand stopped its messaging of your leg, as you held your breath, waiting for his next words.

"You miss me, yeah?" He was suddenly questioning you, even though he already knew the answer. He knew that you thought about him every second of every single day that he was gone. You told him so on many occasions. "You'd do anything I told you to, right?"

You found yourself swallowing down a moan, the feeling catching in your throat and making your mind move like you were trapped in a vat of molasses. "Yes- yes, of course... you already know my answer to everything, Ji."

"Then I want you to play with yourself."

Choking on a strangled gasp, you felt your eyes widen in the shock of it all. But already - instinctually - your legs were pressing together, trying to garner some kind of friction without doing anything just yet.

"When's the last time you fingered yourself, babydoll?" Jisung's tone came out gravelly and hushed, and you heard him shift on his end of the phone, like he, too, was getting restless under the sheets.

"L-Last week."

"And did I cross your mind, while you fucked yourself with your hands?"

"Y-You're always on my mind, babe... couldn't get the thought out of my head that it was you touching me, fucking those perfect, long fingers up into me."

"Where are your hands right now, princess?" He asked, and you were ashamed to admit that they were already stuck down the front of your pajama shorts, palm just barely ghosting over your heat.

"I-In my shorts."

"Good. Now, start to touch yourself." His command came out a little garbled like it was painful for him to talk. Like, he was already battling an oncoming orgasm as you were at that moment.

"Not unless you're doing the same thing."

At that, he let out a dark chuckle, and an image of him flashed across your mind - midnight black hair rumpled from a long day, eyes heavy-lidded, and a sardonic smirk pulling across his lips. "Oh, don't you worry about me, darling. I've been rutting into my hand since you first answered the phone tonight."

His confession left you quite dumbfounded, as you had had no idea. But how could you, since the two of you were miles apart? And besides, Jisung was good at downplaying shit. Downplaying his arousal when he needed to and masking his wants.

"Get that toy out, kitten," he commanded, thick tone cutting through your thoughts that were swarming with lust. "The one that I bought you for your birthday."

He meant the Rabbit. It was a vibrator that was famous, and after the two of you had watched a movie where the main girl had used it and sung its praises, he had decided to buy it for you as a surprise. It was big, and took some practice to get the hang of. But man, did it work. So much so, that you had to refrain from using it too much, otherwise you were afraid that you'd start to crave it more than your actual boyfriend.

Leaning over your bed, you reached into your nightstand, digging the large pink toy out from underneath a pile of junk. You grabbed the unflavored lube that you always kept there too.

"How wet are you?" He grunted, his voice shooting down your ear and pooling in your core. The way that it danced around the room from being on speakerphone did something odd to you. Made you go wild for it all.

Dipping two fingers into your heat, you felt your essence there. "Fucking sopping, baby." Your thumb trailed up to your clit, toying with it in lazy circles. Imagining that it was Jisung touching you just so, you pressed your head into your pillow, whining out his name. "Fuck- I need you so bad."

"I know princess, I know... fuck, I'm just imaging you right now- pretty little cunt dripping with your sweet, sweet juices as I fuck my fingers up into you." His voice trailed off, as you delved into the feeling between your legs. Thrusting up slowly, your two fingers curled inside your walls, hitting that warm sweet spot and sending a burst of starlight across your closed eyes. "I want you to imagine that it's me right there- fingering you. Fuck yourself with the toy, baby girl, and imagine that it's me using it on you."

Without even realizing it, your hands were already moving, picking up the vibrator and centering it against your core. You peered down at it, a little bit of fear rising deep inside of you from the sight of the large girth. "It's so big, I-I don't know if-"

"C'mon now kitten, you can take it," your boyfriend taunted in a playfully seductive way, making your cheeks bloom with a furious blush. "Your little pussy takes me all the time, and I'm much bigger."

With the help of his coaxing, you begin to slide the tip of the toy into you. Ever so slightly, with the help of the lube, it finally fits into your core just right. "Ngh- I've got it in." You gasped, your other hand that wasn't holding the toy traveling up to your chest, fingers playing with your tits, twisting and pulling on pert, sensitive nipples. "F-Feels so big, Ji."

"Good girl," he cooed darkly, and the praise went straight to your head. Made you feel all light and floaty, lighting a tiny flame of arousal inside of you. "Now turn on the vibrator."

You did as you were told, bracing yourself for the feeling of it all. And it hit you like a ton of bricks. The curved point of the toy hit deep inside of you, while the outside rabbit ears pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves.

"You gonna be a good girl and follow everything I say?" You could hear the muffled sound of him just beyond his voice. Of squelching juices, as he played with himself. As you imagined what he was doing at that moment - practiced hand tightening around his thick cock, squeezing up and down the length of himself while his thumb played with his red, swollen tip.

There was a pause on your end, as your thoughts tripped over themselves, heart rattling against your ribcage. Your wetness poured out of you and mixed with the lube, causing a messy scene between your legs, and coating the white sheets underneath you.

"Always, Ji." You finally managed to answer in a choked groan, as you began to move the toy around, thrusting in and out shallowly.

Jisung's voice came out husky against your ears. Grating, even. It sounded like he was already close to the edge of release - since apparently, he had been edging himself for hours during your phone call. "Then turn up the vibrator to the highest setting, babydoll. I wanna hear you scream my name while you fuck yourself on it."

🌾 taglist: want to be added onto my taglist? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can send me a msg and request to be added!! to be removed from the taglist, please send me a msg and i will promptly take you off of the list.

🌾 tags: @sleepyleeji :: @if-spearb :: @hyunes4ngel :: @drhsthl :: @seosalad :: @toomuchtellyneck :: @endzii23 :: @smally97 :: @ana-marais98 :: @sherryblossom :: @priincehoseok :: @biribarabiribbaem :: @linovely :: @lolqxv :: @linonyang :: @morningstardada :: @taeriffic :: @day6andetcetera :: @hyuka-luvbot :: @linohumina :: @urmomma0324 :: @poisonivy2 :: @nappynapnaps :: @bellamuerte1987 :: @julciaqwerty :: @abbiestearsricochet :: @leeknowsramen :: @maeleelee :: @cb97breathing :: @/leyknxw a yellow tag means that there was an error in tagging you.

224 notes · View notes