#i know the answer i just want to see if you'll say it out loud and realize how fucking racist you are. go on.

[ylangelegy]

After MAMA awards I'M VERY PROUD OF MY BOYS and seeing Woozi crying, nooooo my mannnnn

So can I request Woozi or anyone after awards, all members celebrating with their partners hehe LOVE YOUUU!!!

PLEASE PLEASE 🛐🛐

🍑 i will really live the rest of my life repaying you.

you don't see seungcheol until the next day. such is the life of the general leader, it seems— the never-ending heralding, the non-stop worrying. he deals with his boys, first, then the fans, then the staff. but once that's all done, he's at your front door, collapsing into your arms before he's even past through the entryway. it doesn't matter how many awards its been. he is still overwhelmed by it every single time, and you are a soft place to land. he comes home to you and whispers the sweetest nothings in your hair. i'm so proud of them and they did so well and they're so happy. as he holds you tight— like you're the only thing keeping him upright— it's your turn to let him hear those words. i'm so proud of you. you did so well. you get to be happy, too.

the jeonghan on the other end of the video call has been quiet for the most part of the past half-hour. you'd be more worried if you hadn't already predicted where his solemness was coming from. "hannie? still with me?" you prompt gently, and he finally tears his gaze away from the ceiling to look back at you. "yeah. yeah, i'm with you," he answers. a beat. there are some things you no longer have to say out loud. how he wishes he was there. how he misses them and tries not to let it show. instead, you give him a reminder that's quiet and firm. "this is yours, too," you say. this award. this moment. these boys. all still his. there's a ghost of a smile on his face as he mumbles, "right. of course. how could i forget."

joshua likes keeping lists. a running one he has with you is that of gratitude, where the two of you try to end each day with acknowledgements of what you're grateful for. you're expecting a whole essay for him after tonight. he surprises you by keeping it short, sweet, and straight to the point. in no particular order, he types out into your shared note. music, the boys, you. hours later, he adds a footnote like it'd occurred to him as an afterthought: i'm always grateful for those three, but especially so today.

"look at them!" jun shrieks. his video call pixelates, either from spotty connection or his sudden burst of enthusiasm. you have half a mind to warn him that he may get a noise complaint again, but this time it'd be completely warranted. he's positively vibrating with excitement, his eyes glued to the livestream of his twelve brothers ascending the stage for their second award of the night. "look at them," he repeats, and this time his voice is more reverent than anything. you could comply, could do as he's asking, but your eyes are trained elsewhere. and look at you, too, you want to say. look at you and all that you've done to get this far.

even though it's been an exceptionally long day, soonyoung comes home brimming with adrenaline. he does dance routines in your living room. he jogs around your block until you beg him to just come back. he sings in the shower before collapsing onto the bed next to you, where he suddenly becomes boneless. the glow of pride stays even as the exhaustion hits. he pulls you against him and cuddles right into you. to soonyoung, this is as good as any trophy: the peace that comes with falling asleep next to you.

wonwoo has no destination in mind. he has a car with a full tank, and a playlist of all his favorite songs, and you in the passenger seat. that's more than enough. you pass through tunnels with warm lighting; expressways where he keeps the windows down so the wind will whip at your hair. occasionally, you'll stop to grab a snack or take a photo of something interesting on the side of the street. after hours of just going in circles, he'll ask, "should we keep driving?" even though he knows you'd never deny him this. this. his little celebration in the form of getting 'lost' with you.

nobody hears from jihoon for the next couple of days. the managers are worried, but the boys all just shake their heads and say that he's in good hands. which means: he's wherever you are. the two of you don't talk about his speech, about his public breakdown, because both things make him want to hide forever. instead— he sleeps in. he watches movies from months ago that he promised he'd get to. the two of you go on walks at night, and have breakfast at lunch time. the vicious cycle will soon have to begin again. jihoon knows that. but for a few, precious moments, his heart is not a heavy burden because it's safe and sound in your capable hands.

seokmin takes you on the textbook definition of your perfect date. a shopping spree? here's his black card. an amusement park? he'll rent out lotte world for the day, if he must. you're understandably baffled. he's the one who just won big, and yet you're the one being treated like royalty. try to resist and he'll only push back on you. seokmin already spoils you enough as is, but this is just a little more over-the-top than the day-to-day stuff. at the end of it all, his rationale is as sweet as it gets. "you keep me going," he tells you. "and so you deserve just as much credit as i do."

mingyu has always liked to celebrate with a meal. you'd expected his usual fare of some swanky restaurant or high-end café, but, this time, he asks for only free reign of your kitchen. he props his phone up against the salt shaker and pulls up a youtube video before flashing you his best 'just-trust-me' grin. your trust is not misplaced; the two of you do manage to bake the celebratory cake, though whether it's any good is an entirely different story. the end result doesn't matter as much as the process. mingyu is happiest about the flour marks on your cheeks, about the kisses he steals while you whisk eggs. it's not a birthday cake, but you light up a candle for him anyway. just for the hell of it. "make a wish," you tease. he's looking straight at you as he blows at the flame.

minghao asks for a beach day. the two of you set out for the nearest one. maybe the sand is a bit rocky; the shore, lacking in shells. he doesn't care. he only seeks out the sun beating on his back, the saltwater clinging to his skin, the first punch of air after emerging from the water. as the stolen weekend winds to a close, the two of you sit at the point where the water lap at your toes. neither of you have to speak. here, minghao lets the tide wash away the ache of homesickness. here, minghao redefines 'home' as a future with the boys of his youth, with the music that is as constant as the waves— and with you, of course.

the ferry ride to jeju is about four or so hours long, but seungkwan doesn't mind. there's just something so right about getting on the first vessel that will take him back where he has family waiting with a homecooked meal and a play-by-play of the award show. besides, the ferry means having four hours of uninterrupted leisure time with you. the pair of you literally have nowhere else to be except this boat and this point in time, which seungkwan is a little guilty to be so happy about. he's a glutton for your time and attention, and these ferry rides— these trips home— remind him just how much he likes taking the scenic route.

vernon treats it almost like it's just another day. almost. you're thrown off by his initial nonchalance, by the lack of utter fanfare in the way he asks you out to lunch and the two of you barely discuss the recent accolades. when you prompt him about it, you realize it's not because of arrogance or ignorance. "we're just doing what we always do," he says with an expression of mild confusion. winning?, you almost inquire half-jokingly, but that's only part of it. he elaborates, "we were just ourselves, y'know?"

when chan suggests a rage room, you're understandably confused. the wrath-based activity doesn't seem like the most optimal celebration, but you're not about to cramp his style. the two of you queue the angriest songs known to man before smashing some defunct appliances and throwing empty bottles against a wall. once your time is up, chan looks at you with that familiar spark of fire in his eyes. that dedication you fell in love with, that passion that has always burned bright. "again?" he asks, and you know it's not just the rage room that he's asking for.

[spiderb00]

Game Strategy - Manon Bannerman

Manon Bannerman X reader 

Synopsis: Your girlfriend sabotages you on the laser tag. 

Genre: Fluff  

a/n: I love Manon, I had this draft saved for so long, but I got sick and only finish it today, so, here it is. <3 

The bright lights were contagious, we were all agitated and impatient waiting for our turn to enter the room. The teams were separated, and we were all talking and teasing each other. Unfortunately, my girlfriend, Manon, and I were on different teams. Manon led a team with Daniela, Lara, and three other friends of ours, while I led a team with Sophia, Yoonchae, Megan, and two other friends.   

I loved Manon, but all she knew how to do since we decided on the teams was tease me. She wouldn't stop talking for a second, and honestly, I'm too passionate to just not pay attention to every word of teasing that comes out of her mouth. 

"Baby, you know I'm not going to go easy on you, don't you?" Manon said, approaching and pretending to fix my vest.  

"I don't need you to take it easy beautiful, I'm going to win anyway." I said as I pulled her by the waist.   

"Ew, get a room." Daniela says, interrupting our moment and getting laughs from everyone.  

Manon looks at me with a smile, I'll never understand what I did to deserve this woman.  

"How about a bet?" The girl with pigtails says as she puts her arms around my neck.   

"A bet, uh?" I ask as I rest my hands on his waist.   

"Uhm... If you win, you can choose how we end the night..." She says with a smile on her face. "But if I win, you'll have to do everything I want."  

"Anything?" I ask, wondering if it's worth accepting or not.   

"Whatever goes through my mind." Manon says, now as she runs her fingers through my hair and tilts her head waiting for my answer. 

"It's okay, I'll deal with it. You're going to lose anyway." I say, hearing her giggle and walk away as the Laser tag employee says it's our turn to enter.  

When everyone is in their positions, the vests glow indicating that they are working and we all start to move, the adrenaline makes it seem like it's all or nothing, at least for me, in the face of the bet I accepted. 

I still couldn't get hit, but I had already shot Lara and one of the guys on Manon's team. As I passed by I saw someone behind a wall shooting Megan, as soon as the person came out of hiding I could see that it was my beautiful girlfriend. I ran for cover, I could hear Manon's footsteps following me and when I saw it, I was totally cornered.  

It turns out that apparently I had run to a place of no exit, Manon who was now in front of me gave a victorious smile as she slowly approached.   

"I told you you would lose baby." The girl says as she points the gun at me, making me mirror the movement.  

"I can shoot you first, and then you'll lose." My hand was seriously shaking now.   

"You wouldn't do that to me baby, you love me too much for that." Manon says as she puts her hands on my neck, gently caressing the back of my neck and making me a little nervous. 

"I... I can shoot..."   

"But you won't," she says as she looks into my eyes and moves closer to my lips. "Kiss me." 

"You're going to kill me one day." I say as I drop the gun and wrap my arms around the girl's waist.  

Her lips were soft, sweet and kissing her was the best thing in the world, I could stay there for the rest of my life. My hands were on her waist and as much as I wanted to take them down a little more, I had in mind that we were in a public place and it was a miracle that we were not caught. Anyway the moment didn't last long, we were torn from our own little world with a loud sound.  

As I looked down, Manon's gun was pointed at me while my vest was glowing, indicating that I was out and that the match was over.   

"I told you you were going to lose." Manon said with a smile on her face, her hands going down and intertwining with mine.  

"That's not fair, you distracted me, you basically cheated." I said as I let her drag me out. 

"Relax, big baby. I won, but you'll like what I have planned as much as I will." 

--------------

the people working at laser tag watching Yn and Manon through the cameras

[4longyears]

its always pissed me off that the same people who think every fucking woman with a uterus OWES the world children and is a failure if they dont reproduce are the SAME FUCKING PEOPLE who rant and rave about immigration and birth rates in other countries

[alisonwritesimagines]

Count On Mom ~Batfamily Imagine~

Summary: The kids try to get Bruce to get away from the computer. Luckily, there is always one person who can take his mind out of anything including Batman duties. You.

Author’s Note: Haven't posted much in a while and I kept seeing a lot of Batfamily stuff at the last convention I went to so here we go!

BatFamily Masterlist

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: boob flashing, hint to smut

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Three of the batkids stared at their adoptive father as he had been stuck in front of the screen in the Batcave. None of the moved as they watched Bruce in some kind of trance.

“How long since he moved?” Dick asked Cassandra and Jason.

“A day,” Cassandra monotonous answered.

“I think he blinked a minute ago, does that count?” Jason asked.

“It’s official. Alfred called it. He said he’ll bake cookies if we can get Bruce to stop working,” Duke said as he walked into the batcave.

"Step aside," Jason said as he cracked his knuckles. "This will be over in no time."

As the kids began to try to get Bruce to move away, no effort was made to moving Bruce.

"I got an idea," Dick said as he took out his phone.

You felt your phone ring, making you put the groceries down onto the kitchen island so you could answer your phone. You had just gone to the store to grab some ingredients to make dinner for tomorrow's dinner.

“Hello?”

“Hey mom! Are you and Damien almost done with grocery shopping yet?”

“We just got home. Why?”

“We’re trying to pry Bruce off of the computer in the Batcave and Alfred said he’d make us cookies if we get him away from the screen.”

“I’m on my way,” you say with a chuckle at the end.

"Already began to bake the cookies. I know you'll be able to get him away," Alfred told you.

"Of course I can. That's my superpower in this family," you joked.

When you got to the Batcave, you saw your husband tiredly staring at the screen in front of him. The dark bags under his eyes from the lack of sleep made you upset but you knew there was one thing you could do that would always get his attention.

"Aw my poor husband," you say.

"You got this mom?" Jason asked you.

“Step aside kids and close your eyes,” you tell them as you walked over to your husband.

“What are you going to do mom?” Dick as as he covered his eyes. The rest of the kids quickly covered their eyes to avoid to see what you were going to do.

You climbed onto Bruce’s lap before lifting both your shirt and bra in front of him. Bruce quickly snapped out of his daze before looking up at you with a smile.

“Tempting me my love?”

“Maybe,” you smile as you pulled your shirt and bra down.

“Let me have my cookies and you can have me,” you whispered into his ears as you stood up.

“Okay kids. Enjoy Alfred’s cookies,” you say as you headed out.

The moment the kids uncovered their eyes, they watched in shock as Bruce already began to make his way towards you.

“Leave it to mom for getting Bruce to do anything other than his Batman duties,” Jason said.

"I wonder how she does it," Duke says out loud.

"Because dad's got it bad for mom," Dick tells him.

By the time Bruce got to you, you were eating your chocolate chip cookies that Alfred had made with Damien. You winked at your husband as you kissed Damien’s head.

“Alfred, why don’t you and the kids go out for a bit? It’s lovely outside,” you tell him.

“Of course,” Alfred said before walking over to get the rest of the kids. You began to head upstairs to your room, knowing that you had stirred something in Bruce.

“You coming Bruce?” You called out. You smirked as you heard Bruce’s fastened footsteps.

You let out a laugh as you felt him pick you up. You held onto him as he rushed over to the bedroom.

“I owe you some alone time don’t I?” Bruce asked you with a smile.

“Yes you do. Now, while everyone is out of the house, why don’t you make it up to me?” You asked him.

“I plan to," Bruce said before kissing you passionately.

[sunarc]

Exes who convince you to get back with them by fucking you until you’re cumming and making a mess on his cock. He’ll have you in a mating press just so he can get a perfect view of how your pussy clenches around him. He knows every spot to make you tremble. He’s cocky about it. It’s almost a cycle for him. You’ll storm out telling him how you’re done with his shit. You'll slam the door telling him you never want to see him again. Yet somehow you always end up in the same position, ankles resting on his shoulder taking his cock babbling about how you love him so much.

“Mmh, I love you so much baby” your words are a memorized pattern that you always find yourself drooling whenever you’re with him.

He chuckles, eyes never leaving the area where you two connect. The squelching sounds of your hole are almost as loud as your moans

“You love me baby?” he groans “ This pussy loves me too, listen to how she’s purring”

His thrusts are rough. You’re almost positive the neighbors are sick of the two of you. He’s in a trance. All he can think about is making you cum on his cock. The way your hole squeezes him only fuels him. He can’t help but admit how much he missed this. The way you call his name is like music to his ears. He hasn’t heard your pretty voice beg him to let you cum in so long. He’s savoring this moment. His hips meet your roughly grunting each time he bottoms out.

“Thought you said you were done with me” he knows he should be thankful he has you back but he’s so cocky he can’t help but tease you a little. You look away embarrassment flooding through you.

“Look at me baby” he growls “ Look at how much your pussy missed me” his eyes are trained on the way you suck him in.

“You missed this cock didn’t you?” He knows his words are getting to you. Your whimpers grow louder. All you can do is give in and admit your truth.

“Missed you so much baby” your voice is shaky. Your eyes meet his and he has a smirk on his face hearing your words. He places his hand on your stomach, feeling where his cock is.

"You feel that baby?" his eyes switch back and forth between the creamy mess your making on his cock and the bulge that shows where his cock presses inside of you.

He leans down to put his head into your neck to leave wet kisses. His hands wrap around you pulling you close. His groans fill your ears and for a moment you want to never hear anything other than that again.

“You’re mine” his words match his thrust You can feel yourself growing closer to your orgasm. "Say it" he growls. His thrust are sloppy. His mind floods with his claim over you. You want to speak, to give him an answer but you feel so fucked out of your mind all you can do and whimper and moan. He chuckles watching you practically go dumb from his cock.

“I guess i gotta fuck you until you remember who’s pussy this is”

Matsukawa, Atsumu, Kuroo, Osamu, Suna, Sukuna, Toji, Gojo, Tsukishima, Semi, Geto

tag: @smoothopz , @ykimobessed , @mizloca

let me know if any of you would like to be added to my tag list for other works

[rowarn]

I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.

simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!

fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3

you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.

simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.

he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.

both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.

you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.

"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.

the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.

to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.

you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.

you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.

your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.

"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"

hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.

simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?

he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"

you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.

he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.

"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"

simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."

you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.

"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."

his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.

he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.

you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3

[gojoux]

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 “𝐈'𝐌 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇” 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐌

Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta.

◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Gojo would raise a brow at you and then say, “Huh? Why would you do that when you can sleep with me on our bed?” He would wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. “Don't you want to sleep with your handsome boyfriend?” When you brush him off, he would huff and pout as he crossed his arms, “So you find me that annoying, huh?” You didn't say that, he's just petty. “Then I guess I'll let you sleep on the couch tonight.” Yet he'd come back after you settle yourself and squeeze in with you, no matter how.

◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

He'd hold a small smile on his face but that's it. “Oh, I see. You want to sleep on the couch tonight. Just for tonight, right?” He doesn't look that upset that you want to sleep somewhere else. He doesn't say it but he's trying to figure out why you want to sleep alone tonight. “Are you mad at me or something?” He would ask you while looking at you with a raised eyebrow. In the end, he'd try to persuade you to sleep with him anyway.

◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

He doesn't say anything when you tell him that you're going to sleep on the couch tonight. He would cross his arms, giving you a look and says, “Who do you think you are, telling me that you're not sleeping with me tonight?” He wants you badly and he won't accept the answer ‘no’ from you. When he says you will be sleeping with him, then you will sleep with him, that's it. He walks towards you and pulls you close by the waist, “Let me show you what you're missing tonight,” he smiles smugly before sweeping you off your feet to bed.

◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

He'd give you a questioning look. “Sleep on the couch? Why not in our bed, love? The couch isn't exactly as comfortable as the bed.” He'd wrap his hands around you and bring you closer to him. “Are you mad at me? Is there something I did that makes you want to sleep on the couch alone? Let's talk this out like adults.” He speaks as his thumbs caress your cheek. “I'm already tired of sleeping alone. Let's go to bed together, love.”

◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

Choso would look at you confused, “Why?” that's all he could ask. “Don't you want to sleep next to me tonight?” His shoulder is tense, the feeling of doubt and worry wash over him. He starts to overthink why you want to sleep on the couch alone, yet his expression doesn't really give in. He just looks at you with an intense stare, and reaches out to grab your hand, “Are you upset with me? I'm sorry, love. Please, come to bed with me.”

◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

He would just stare at you silently for a while before laughing out loud after hearing your response. “Ah, you're funny.” The corner of his lips turns up into a suggestive smirk, he wants to see how far you'll go by doing this. “Don't worry, I can fix that very quickly.” He'd walk to you and throw you on his shoulder, he can and he will. “You won't, 'cause that's not going to happen, darling.” He'd slap your ass. “I'll make sure you'll sleep with me, that's final.”

◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

He doesn't know what to say when you tell him that you are going to sleep on the couch tonight. He looks at you with a question mark above his head when you insist on sleeping on the couch and not with him on the bed, “Why not? Is something wrong?” He'd cross his arms and look at you with a raised brow. “Please, let's sleep on the bed...” Then his voice becomes more quiet, adding, “with me...” He doesn't mind if you sleep on the couch but he really wants you to sleep with him. “We've slept together every night so far. Why not this time?”

◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈

“Yeah, let's sleep on the couch tonight. It sounds fun and comfy.” He doesn't mind the change this time so he'd smile and pat your head. “I don't mind sleeping on the couch tonight.” He'd be serious and wouldn't really be against the idea if it's for you. You'd deny him saying that you want to sleep on the couch alone, and he'd be confused, “Wait, what? What's going on? Don't you want to sleep with me?” He looks at you with a slightly worried expression. He doesn't want you to be far away from his sight and he just wants to cuddle with you.

◈ — ��𝐔𝐓𝐀

“Huh? Why are you sleeping on the couch tonight?” His voice is filled with concern, thinking he's done something to make you don't want to sleep with him, and that leads to overthinking mixed with anxiousness. “Do you need some time alone? Are you mad at me?” He'd tilt his head slightly, “Please, don't tell me we're not sleeping together tonight.” He's borderline pleading now, “There isn't a reason for you to sleep on the couch alone. I can't handle it, please sleep with me.” The poor boy doesn't know what he did wrong in his mind.

Kinda similar to the waiting for him until you fall asleep now that I thought of it, even though I wrote this first.

[ashtavula]

Could I please request Diasomnia reacting to a long-lost childhood friend? Like they declared they would marry you one day, but you left unexpectedly and without warning. Now they've finally seen you again and all the old emotions come flooding back.

omfg this is such a cute idea!!

cw: spoilers for book 7

Diasomnia meeting their childhood friend again

Malleus:

-As soon as he lays eyes on you again, all of the air leaves his lungs. It's you. Despite everything, it's you. His feet carry him towards you, and you barely have time to register that he's in front of you before you're engulfed in a tight embrace. Malleus murmurs your name over and over, demanding to know why you abandoned him. Do you know how lonely he was without his beloved fiancée? Do you know how often he wished upon all the stars in the sky that you would return to him? And now you're back, in his arms, where you belong.

-You might think think that Malleus has forgotten his old promise to you, but he starts to refer to you as his fiancée as soon as you're reunited. When you try to brush him off, stating that it's silly to hold him to the words he spoke as a small child, Malleus pouts. He still loves you, and he still wants to marry you. And he intends to prove his devotion by putting a ring on your finger.

Lilia:

-Lilia feels like crying when he sees you again. It's been centuries, but he never forgot you. You let out a startled yelp as he suddenly appears behind you, tackling you to the ground. Lilia practically sobs out your name, burying his face against your chest. He thought he'd lost you, just like he'd lost Maleanor and Raverne. But you came back, and he promises to never let you go again. You are both his first love, and his last.

-You're surprised to see that Lilia's more laid-back now than he was when you were children together. But his desire to take care of you hasn't faded at all. Lilia still tries to feed you, and he still acts out to get your attention. And he still refers to you as his betrothed, despite your ages. When you roll your eyes at him, claiming that both of you are far too old for childhood jokes, Lilia wonders if you'll still think his feelings are a joke when he actually proposes to you properly.

Silver:

-He thinks he's dreaming at first. There's no way you're standing in front of him. Before he can think about it, Silver is reaching out and grasping your hand. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your warm fingers, and he tugs you closer, his strong arm circling around your waist. Silver leans down, and he presses his forehead against yours. He sighs out your name, and he pulls back to kiss your hand, still in his grasp. When he looks at you again, you can see his eyes soften, and his lips curve into that old, familiar smile. He spent so long dreaming about you, and now he has the real you in front of him.

-Silver immediately starts treating you the same way he did when you were both children. He shows you the animals he's befriended, letting you pet their soft bodies, and he keeps bringing you food he's made. And when he sleeps, he tries his best to stay close to you. When he wakes up from one of his naps to see you smiling down at him, just like you used to do, Silver feels his heart swell. You accepted his marriage proposal when you were kids. Now Silver is hoping you'll say yes again.

Sebek:

-When Sebek sees you again, he feels oddly conflicted. His feelings for you haven't changed, but he worries that you left because he wasn't good enough for you. Still, he can't resist the desire to be a part of your life again. And so Sebek approaches you, intent on finding out if you remember him. He gets his answer when you hug him tightly, happy to be reunited with your old friend. Sebek's cheeks flush, and he scoops you up, crushing you to his chest as he returns your embrace. He hopes that you won't notice his heart pounding as he buries his face in your hair.

-Sebek hasn't really changed since his childhood. He's still loud, and energetic. He still tries to protect you from anything that moves in your vicinity, and he still puffs out his chest with pride when you praise him. And Sebek still refers to you as his fiancée. When you try to dissuade him from doing that, he gets huffy. He insists that he made a promise to you, and that a knight always keeps their promises. And it doesn't take long for him to make that promise real by presenting you with a ring.

[liketolaugh-writes]

Sick Day Once A Year

I might be too much in love with the Death Echoes trope. So, have a whole bunch of Bruce taking care of Danny. It's basically a sickfic with extra hurt/comfort.

It takes place in the same verse as More Like Home but probably won't happen until after the plot of that fic is done. At this point, Danny has been living with Bruce for a little under a year.

-----

At noon, Alfred called Bruce to ask him to come home early. Bruce turned around and walked out of the board meeting without even looking at anyone, but did throw a distracted 'family emergency!' over his shoulder. He might have carefully cultivated his airheaded Brucie persona, but even then people knew that he took his kids seriously.

He ignored the board member that grumbled 'enough fucking family to have an emergency every day if he wants.'

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce asked, once he was clear of the board room and in the elevator. Calm. Calm. No running. Brucie doesn't run.

"Master Danny declined to specify the nature of his sick day this morning," Alfred said, in a dry tone that didn't do a bit to hide the worry underneath it. "Apparently the anniversary of one's death is rather... physically harrowing for a ghost. He's admitted that he'd like to have you here."

But of course he hadn't asked for it, because that would require bringing up what he was. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Ten minutes at most."

"I'll let him know. Come prepared to spend several hours in his room, if not the rest of the day. He indicated that he may be well enough to eat by eight or nine o'clock, but even then..."

Meaning he expected to be debilitated until then. "Understood. Should I bring anything?"

"He's not aware of anything that will help, but some topical analgesic might be of use. I will see if I can find anything else to try."

"He's in pain?" Bruce's brow furrowed. Alfred hesitated before answering, which made Bruce's heart sink.

"He is... physically reliving his death, he says, and will be for most of the day. He is in quite a bit of pain."

"These kids will be the death of me," Bruce muttered. Danny hadn't even hinted at anything like this when he asked for the day off. Bruce made a mental note to keep him off patrol the next night as well. The elevator stopped, and he took off at as quick a walk as he dared. "I'll be there in ten."

"Yes, Master Bruce." Alfred hung up, hopefully to return to Danny.

On the way, he collected a few items that seemed promising: IcyHot cream in the strongest available formula, both heat and cold packs, a variety of compression bandages, and some muscle relaxers from the Batcave infirmary.

Bruce knocked on Danny's door. Cool air drifting out of it indicated either Danny or Alfred had turned the thermostat down lower than usual. Fortunately, Bruce had grabbed a jacket just in case.

"'M in," Danny mumbled, barely loud enough for Bruce to make out.

He pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Alfred seated beside a miserable-looking Danny. He was surprised to see Danny in ghost form, as it wasn't a form he typically spent recreational time in, particularly when he was unwell. Perhaps it made the ordeal easier. Danny was curled up in his bed, on top of the covers, with his jumpsuit removed and a set of soft pajamas in its place. Alfred was running one hand through Danny's soft white hair, slow and comforting, while his other held one of Danny's.

"Hey, chum," Bruce called out quietly, drawing Danny's attention to him. "Heard you're hurting today." Danny hummed unhappily instead of denying it, which was concerning. "Think you'll be able to eat anything for lunch? Applesauce, bone broth, yogurt? Maybe with ectoplasm?" Danny didn't seem to have any intention of leaving ghost form.

Danny started to shake his head, but stopped to consider when Bruce brought up the last point. "Applesauce and ectoplasm," he mumbled. "Maybe. Nothing after like, two, though."

Alfred gave Bruce a warm smile and gently extracted himself from Danny. "I will see to it," he promised. "Do you need anything else, Master Danny? Master Bruce?"

Danny shook his head mutely, and Bruce said, "I'll text you an update once we've tried these." He hefted the bag he was holding. "If you could bring me lunch when you can, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course," Alfred promised. "I hope you feel better, Master Danny."

"Thanks, Alfie."

Alfred left, shutting the door gently behind him, and Bruce took his place, setting the bag at his feet for now. Danny didn't stir from his leaden sprawl, not even to lift his head.

"You didn't have to leave work, y'know," Danny mumbled, half into the pillow. "I'll be okay."

He didn't apologize, Bruce noted. That was progress. "I know I didn't have to. But someone should be here with you."

"I don't-" Danny choked, his hands squeezing into fists as his whole body shuddered and jerked as if tased. Danny panted through the spasm, his whole body rigid, and when it was over he slumped down and let out a weak moan of pain, making no attempt to continue arguing. It took Bruce a moment to remember to breathe, reminding himself forcefully that this was no attack.

"I brought you some stuff," Bruce said, softer. Danny grunted in discontent. Bruce leaned down and opened the bag anyway. "IcyHot lidocaine cream and muscle relaxers." Danny shook his head without looking. Bruce wasn't surprised. He hadn't realized Danny was in ghost form. "Both heat and cold packs." Danny hummed in mild interest but didn't open his eyes. "And compression bandages."

Danny blinked his eyes open to consider them. His usually neon eyes looked dull. "Worth a try," he muttered after a moment.

Good. Something was better than nothing. "Do you need help sitting up?"

Danny's mouth quirked in a dry smile. "Not yet."

He pushed himself up with a grunt, and shrugged off his pajama shirt with intangibility rather than lift his arms. Bruce had to suppress an immediate and visceral reaction to the glowing lines that coiled up his left arm, which he had only gotten glimpses of before; a telltale Lichtenberg permanently etched onto Danny's ghost form. In contrast to the rest of him, which had dimmed to about the light of a glowstick, the Lichtenburg mark was painfully bright.

"Where do you want these?" Bruce asked, lifting one of the rolls of elastic bandaging. Danny cocked his head and considered it. Then he gestured silently, indicating his left arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and twisted to give Bruce access. With the ease of long practice, Bruce started to wrap it. "Anything I should expect?"

Danny watched him unroll the bandages for a minute, around and around, getting halfway up Danny's forearm before he answered. "The pain comes in waves. They'll keep getting longer, more severe, and closer together until around four, and then they'll die down completely about two hours after that." He paused, watching Bruce loosen the bandages around his elbow before moving on. "It won't ever get as bad as actually dying, but it's still pretty bad. And I'll be really emotional for a lot of it, especially when it hits peak."

"When are you not." The words were out before Bruce could think twice about them. Fortunately, Danny laughed, tired but genuine.

"You've got me there. How many rolls of bandages do you have?"

"I brought three. Alfred can obtain more if necessary." Pretty bad, Danny said. Bruce had no desire to experience pain that Danny described as 'pretty bad.' His tolerance was high even for their family.

Danny shook his head. "That should be okay. Can you do my back too?"

"Yes, but I'll need to be closer." Danny scooted to make room, and Bruce shifted to sit next to him, then tapped a spot low on Danny's spine. "Starting here?" Danny nodded. "Alright. Is there anything else I should know?"

Thankfully, Danny seemed to genuinely think about it, but eventually he shook his head. "I've only had two of these," he reminded Bruce. "There's more stuff I don't know, probably."

Ah yes, a frustrating constant. The elusive nature of comprehensive information about ghosts. Even Constantine had large gaps in his knowledge, which Bruce would grudgingly admit was rare for the man. This? This was definitely not in the introductory handbook. Was Bruce now obligated to share information in return? Hn.

Danny squinted at him. "What did Constantine do now?" he asked.

"Constantine."

"You have a very distinct 'thinking about Constantine' face."

"Hn."

Danny smiled briefly, then yelped, curling up like a bug and accidentally dislodging Bruce's grip on the bandaging. Instinctively, Bruce tucked Danny against his side, and Danny shook and twitched against him, a desperate whine tearing itself free as Danny rode out the wave of pain. Bruce all but held his breath until Danny finally slumped again, breathing heavily. His chill crept through the jacket Bruce had slipped on before coming in.

"Ready to keep going?" Bruce prodded, once Danny's breath evened out. Danny laid there for another few seconds, then nodded and pushed himself upright with a wince. Bruce picked up the dropped end of the bandage, tightened what had come loose, and kept going. "You're sore?"

"Ha." Danny lifted his arms slightly, enough to make room for Bruce to work. Bruce shifted and encouraged Danny to rest his arms on Bruce's shoulders, and Danny did, leaning against him. "Yeah, I wake up pretty achy already, even though I don't start getting spasms until ten. Just to make sure I have a really miserable day."

Uncharacteristically bitter, Bruce noted, but unsurprising under the circumstances. He didn't comment. "Remarkably, we don't currently possess any upper back bandages. I'll ask Alfred to retrieve one if you're happy with the results. We do have shoulder and wrist bandages." Bruce finished wrapping Danny's torso but didn't pull away.

Danny turned his head to squint at the bandages peeking out of the bag. "Why'd you bring so many?"

"I know how you died," Bruce reminded Danny evenly. Electrocution implied muscle pain, and Bruce had suspected his left arm would take the brunt of it. Danny shuddered, a natural one this time, and pressed himself against Bruce for comfort. Bruce dropped an arm around his back, holding him. A minute or two passed, and then Danny pulled away with a sigh.

"Okay."

Right, yes. More compression bandages. These went by much faster, simply needing to be strapped on, and soon Danny's hand and shoulder had joined his left arm and mid-back in compression. He seemed satisfied with that and laid back down on the bed, somewhat more relaxed than when Bruce had first come back in. Bruce hesitated, then shifted closer again and set his hand on Danny's upper back, carefully trying to smooth out the painful knots that had developed there. Danny 'mm'ed softly but didn't otherwise react.

Alfred knocked on the door, and Bruce called him inside when Danny made no move to. Alfred pushed open the door and brought in two plates, one for Danny and one for Bruce. Bruce accepted his with a nod.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said quietly. "Danny, are you up to eating?"

Danny didn't answer at first, but then shifted around to glower half-heartedly at the bowl Alfred had brought. Then he buried his face in Bruce's arm, grumbling, and Bruce's mouth twitched in amusement. It disappeared when another tremor wracked Danny's body, and the young teen bleated in pain, his grip tightening painfully.

Bruce forced himself to breathe evenly this time, and massaged Danny's hand with his own, pressing through the thick bandage. Danny slumped, panting, and with care, Bruce shifted his hand to massage all the way up Danny's arm, coaxing the tension out of the muscles there until he reached Danny's shoulder, skipped past the compression bandage, and pressed his fingers into Danny's back. Danny didn't say anything, but he pressed into Bruce gratefully and stayed relaxed. Somehow, still, Bruce was startled when Alfred joined him, cupping Danny's temple in one hand.

"Master Danny?" Alfred coaxed, more firmly than Bruce had. "Can you stomach some applesauce?" Danny whined, a softer-toned protest than the low keens of pain he'd let slip. "I know, but you will feel worse if you don't eat anything. I don't think you want that."

Danny grumbled something that sounded like 'no' and acquiesced, allowing himself to be propped up just enough to poke the glowing applesauce with a spoon. He brightened a little at the reminder that Alfred had added ectoplasm, and started to eat. Bruce followed his example and worked quickly through his sandwich.

"I see you're making good use of our extensive collection of medical garments," Alfred said to Bruce, making Bruce snort quietly. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"If he's satisfied with the improvement from these, we'll need one for his upper back as well," Bruce said. "I'll let you know."

"Perhaps after this, the collection will be complete."

Danny got through about half the applesauce before he pushed it away, and Bruce set it on a clear spot on his nightstand before Alfred could pick it up. He glanced up at the butler. "I'll see if I can coax more of this into him later."

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Very well. I'll check in later to see how the two of you are doing."

Bruce nodded, and Alfred left to attend to the manor. Bruce turned his attention back to Danny and considered him. He had a few more questions - why Danny was staying in ghost form, if there were any physical effects from this - but nothing that couldn't wait until Danny was less ill. He picked up his tablet instead. "Would you like me to read to you?"

Danny tilted his head up to look at him, then nodded. It was barely twelve thirty and he already looked exhausted, pale even for his ghost form and cradling his left arm protectively. Bruce hoped he'd be able to sleep at some point, but that seemed unlikely until the pain had passed, which apparently would not be for hours.

Bruce picked up his tablet and quickly downloaded a book. Danny had mentioned wanting to read 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' a few times, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. "The story so far: in the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

Danny snickered softly.

As always, reading to his kids made time pass a little faster. It also gave him easy access to the digital clock, and with the note function innate to the Kindle app, he could keep track of the time and Danny's progressing condition, most importantly the interval between spasms and the relative severity of the pain.

After half an hour, he noted that the current interval period was about twelve minutes and asked Danny, "Are the compression bandages helping as much as desired?"

Danny nodded. He'd pulled a thin blanket over himself after a while, mainly for comfort, and his hold on his left arm was still loose enough that Bruce believed it was more psychological than physical for the moment. "Hurts less when I can't jerk around so much. One for my upper back would be good. The shoulder one isn't quite cutting it." He made a face.

Bruce shot off a text to let Alfred know. "Anything else you want?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Heat pack?" he asked, softer and more tentative, as if there was anything Bruce would say no to right now.

And that was simple enough. Bruce activated one of the handheld heating packs and handed it to Danny, who shuffled around a little before putting it on his neck, by the junction of his shoulder. Bruce picked his tablet back up and continued reading.

Alfred returned about twenty minutes later with the requested bandage, and Danny didn't protest when Bruce went to help him sit up. He wasn't weakened, Bruce judged after a minute, but there was a minute tremble in his muscles that indicated the pain was ramping up even outside of the periodic spasms.

Bruce helped him get the new compression bandage on, and then paused to smooth out some of the building tension there. Danny leaned in gratefully - he was much more physically affectionate than most of Bruce's children, he'd come to realize, except perhaps Cass and Dick. Bruce kept an eye on the clock, and made sure to get Danny down before the next spasm hit. Danny groaned, the sound drawn-out and wavering unhappily, and clung to Bruce through it before falling into a shivering, panting slump.

Alfred ran his fingers through Danny's hair, nodded to Bruce, and left quietly, as harried as ever when one of the kids was suffering.

"You happy like this, chum, or do you want to lay back how you were?" Bruce asked Danny quietly. Danny grunted, then squirmed further into Bruce's lap. It was a little eerie, Danny being so light and cold in this form that Bruce could have mistaken him for a lap full of snow, but it made Bruce smile for a moment. "Alright."

He settled down and picked up his tablet to resume reading, noting the time and event before he continued.

A part of Bruce, a not-so-small part, was furious that Danny had meant to handle this alone, without anything to even try to ease the pain; it reminded him of when nine-year-old Tim had caught a bad strain of flu, and how confused he had been when Alfred insisted on him staying at Wayne Manor to be cared for. This might not have been particularly dangerous, it was true, but Danny was miserable now and only promised to get more so through the day.

He wondered briefly how Danny had spent the previous two such events. Certainly not with his parents, there being no human explanation for this. Could he even be home for it, in the comfort of his own room, or did he have to go elsewhere? Had he been alone for either of them? It unfortunately seemed likely, especially if he hadn't known about it in advance the first time.

Even with the bandages stabilizing half his upper body, Danny's groans and whines slowly progressed into low keens of pain, and he started to clutch at himself through each one, gasping for breath like it was the only thing that would bring him comfort. Bruce shifted so one of his hands rested on Danny's shoulder, where a gap between the shoulder and upper back bandages seemed to be creating a sharp spot of pain that Danny kept trying to get at. He massaged it carefully without looking away from the tablet, and Danny relaxed a little, panting.

At two thirty, Danny started to cry, exhausted tears shining on his cheeks and faint, breathy sobs following each spasm. At three, Bruce noted that the interval had decreased to six minutes, then set the tablet aside and transferred his attention to comforting Danny.

"How are you feeling, chum?" he asked quietly.

"Hurts, God, it hurts," Danny choked out, trembling like a leaf and his better hand clamping down on his shoulder again. "'S so cold, Bruce. It's in my bones. Shouldn' be in me."

Cold. Ectoplasm? Bruce wasn't sure. Danny had never described his accident at length. "Heat pack?"

Danny nodded jerkily, so Bruce leaned forward, careful not to jostle him, and grabbed a few. He lifted the blanket enough to place one on Danny's upper back and one on his lower, then noted the time and the request. If this was indeed a yearly event, a thought that made his blood boil, they'd need to be better prepared for it next year.

A stray thought crossed Bruce's mind. Did this happen to Jason as well? Jason had never referenced anything of the sort, but he also knew that Jason never went out on the anniversary of his death. Bruce would know; he'd specifically looked out for him the first few years, before the habit became apparent, and still kept half an eye out since.

Danny cried out, no longer making any effort to muffle the noise, and seized and jerked through another long episode. Bruce counted silently. Up to thirty-three seconds. When it was over, he sobbed and curled closer to Bruce.

"Why'd they have to build that stupid portal?" Danny choked out. Bruce ruthlessly clamped down on another wave of rage at the eldest Fentons. "God. A-ah. This sucks. I wanna go to bed. I want it to be over." His voice cracked.

Sleeping pills, or a sedative? They wouldn't work on Danny's ghost form either, but depending on why he wasn't reverting to human, they could try to get him to sleep through as much of the day as possible. Something to discuss later on. "It's 3:16." Danny whined in protest. "I've got you. What hurts the most?" He checked on the heat pack by Danny's neck, making sure it was still in place.

"My chest hurts," Danny sobbed quietly, his face wet with tears. "My heart is stopping."

Unfortunately, Bruce couldn't help with that. He set his hand on Danny's chest anyway, and Danny reached up and clutched at it, apparently finding comfort in the futile gesture all the same. Even his hand trembled.

"'M scared, B," Danny confessed after another minute, almost too quiet to hear. Bruce's chest tightened, and he breathed through another wave of frustration and hatred before he could soften his voice enough to reply.

"You're going to be fine, Danny. You'll be in pain for a few more hours, but that's all it is."

"'M already dead," Danny murmured. From inflection, Bruce deduced that it was meant to be self-soothing.

Bruce's throat ached. "...Yes."

At four o'clock, the interval dropped to two minutes, counting from the end of one spasm to the start of the next. It barely gave Danny time to breathe, and he tossed and turned until Bruce moved both of them so Danny could sit up and hold onto him, crying into his shoulder. Danny held on with bruising force - and no more, as careful as Clark even now - and jerked, hands tightening and loosening in Bruce's jacket with the ebb and flow of relived pain.

You did this to him, Bruce thought at the elder Fentons, more than once.

At exactly 4:36 - Bruce was keeping as close an eye on the clock as he could manage - Danny screamed. Bruce immediately recognized the sound from an echo audible in his Ghostly Wail. Bruce's jacket tore under Danny's hands, and a horrible, quaking tremor seized Danny in an unmistakably fatal grip. Bruce counted the seconds and held Danny too tightly for him to accidentally shake himself loose.

Forty-six seconds. That was how long the worst spasm held him. Bruce assumed that was also how long it had taken Danny to die.

In contrast to the other times, when it finally released him, Danny pressed in closer instead of loosening his grip, and sobbed hysterically.

"No, no," Danny choked out, and "Please, I don't wanna-" and "Dad, Dad."

What did you say after something like that?

"I've got you," Bruce settled on. "You're safe. You're with me."

Danny calmed down slowly, sobs dying down into heaving breaths and then into a deep but labored rhythm that closely matched Bruce's but seemed to take much more effort. The next spasm that hit was much lighter, lasting only eighteen seconds, but it still sent Danny into renewed shudders and tears, holding on tightly.

When Danny seemed calm enough, Bruce shifted him enough so that Bruce could hold him in one arm, then pulled his tablet back over and logged the time of death, length of the accompanying fit, and what had followed. Interval immediately increased back to more than ten minutes (Bruce had unfortunately missed the precise time) and period decreased to eighteen seconds.

Danny set his head on Bruce's shoulder.

After that, things got much easier. At 5:15, Danny removed himself from Bruce's lap to lay down. He removed all of the heat packs and passed them to Bruce, but kept the compression bandages on. He didn't reach for the blanket but hummed gratefully when Bruce pulled it over him anyway, and Bruce sat on the floor beside him and debated returning to reading aloud.

"Whoa. You two look wiped."

Bruce looked up. Duke had opened the door to talk to them, probably too worried by what he'd seen through the door to remember to knock first, and his expression was pinched with worry. "Duke. Anything on patrol?"

"Uh, some movement I'll tattle to Jason about, but nothing big." He studied them with concern. "How's Danny doing? I didn't realize he was this sick."

Hm. Had Alfred declined to explain what had happened? Bruce glanced at Danny as the teenager hummed unhappily, but Danny didn't say anything else, so Bruce provided, "He's had a long day. I expect he'll go to sleep soon. We'll debrief tomorrow."

"Debrief?" Duke frowned at him, understanding immediately that there was more than what he'd been told, but then he glanced at Danny and just nodded. "Alright. Feel better soon, Danny. Get some rest, okay? I'll let Alfred know how you're doing."

Danny's hum this time was more positive.

At 5:30, Danny fell asleep. At 5:45, Dick came in to check on them and left once he'd come to look at Danny's sleeping (calm) face, and at 6:15, Cass came in with a plate of food for Bruce and a few granola bars for Danny. For when he wakes up, she signed.

A little while after 6:30, Bruce fell asleep without meaning to.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Beloved Mine

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x F!Reader

Summary: Sam sends out an SOS that Bucky isn't in the best mood, so you see him to ease his mind.

Sammy: SOS. he's in a bad mood!

You read over Sam's text and snort. You quickly type out a reply and start to change from your pjs to some appropriate clothing.

On your way to Bucky's, you stopped by his favorite bakery, grabbing his favorite baked goods as well as a wide variety for his people. You also grabbed him a coffee and a drink for you as well.

Sammy: He almost shot the new guy in the foot. Please tell me you're on your way.

You: ETA 10 minutes.

Sammy: THANK GOD.

You giggle and continue to drive to Bucky's family mansion. At the gate, the security guard takes one look at you and immediately lets you in. You give him a pastry in gratitude before driving up the long gravel driveway.

You park beside Sam's car and hop out. The man at the door nods at you, opening the door wide for you to step in. You also hand him a pastry with a smile.

You head towards the back of the house where you hear a familiar, loud distant voice.

The closer you get, the louder the voice. You push through some of the men spilling out of the room until you're inside.

"-HOW MANY FUCKING MEN DO I GOTTA LOSE TO-honey?"

All eyes land to you. You give a sheepish wave, "Hi, sorry, is this a bad time?" You know it is but you feign ignorance.

Bucky sighs, running his hand through his brunette locks, "Just finishing up a meeting."

"Oh, I can wait-"

"No, no. It's fine. Think they all had enough of my shouting," he waves his hand, "Leave, you fuckers!" most of the people scurry out in an instant, not wanting to wait and see if Bucky changes his mind. A small group stay behind, Bucky's closest friends and confidants: Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, and Nat.

You approach them, setting yours and Bucky's drinks in front of him. You open the pastry box in your hands and hold it out to the four, "Take your pick!"

"You're Heaven sent!" Sam exclaims as he grabs a donut and shoots you a wink. You give him a smirk and a nod.

Joaquin grabs a danish, practically stuffing the entire thing in his mouth.

"Did you eat today, Joaquin?"

He shakes his head as he continues to chew the danish. You lift the box higher, "Take as much as you want."

He gives you a grin as he grabs two more pastries and follows Sam out the door.

"Ladies?"

"I'm good," Nat says with a shake of her head in decline.

"Hell yeah, donuts!" Yelena exclaims as she grabs the glazed twists. She hums in delight as she takes a bite, "Thanks, Y/N!"

You chuckle, "You're welcome, Lena."

The two women look to Bucky to see if he needed anything else. Bucky sips his coffee and waves them off and the two file out the door, closing it behind them.

You turn back to Bucky, "Yours are at the bottom," you place the pastry box in front of him.

Bucky's eyes narrow at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips, "Who called you?"

"No one called me."

"So if I check your phone-"

"Technically, Sam texted me. He didn't call me."

Bucky scoffs and shakes his head, "Of course he did."

You walk over to the other side of his desk. He leans back in his chair and you sit on his arm rest, "Bad day?" You begin to run your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch with a sigh, "Another shipment got intercepted. We lost some guys."

"'M sorry, baby."

"I'm getting real fucking tired of Hydra. And none of my people can find shit out! Anytime they snag one of their guys, they kill themselves before we get any answers. Fucking cowards."

You wrap your arms around Bucky's bulking frame, "You'll figure it out. You always do. Besides, I'm sure Lena and Nat have something cooking, right?"

"Supposedly, but they won't tell me what yet. They're trying to iron out the details."

"Just let them handle it in the meantime. Now, how about a treat?" you grab one of the pastries that you know he loves and he takes a bite. He moans at the taste and his shoulders drop in relief.

He washes it down with his coffee and he looks at you with shining blue eyes, "You really know how to make a guy feel loved, honey."

You giggle, and wipe some crumbs off his chubby cheeks, "Well, duh, I do love you," you peck his lips, "Ease up on everyone, will ya? I know things are tense, but they're all doing the best they can. You can't afford to lose more people."

He slowly nods, "You're right. Fuck, you know, maybe you should step down and take over, hm?"

You throw your head back and laugh, "Oh, please, I'd run your family into the ground! No one would listen to me-"

"Baby, a majority of my people listen to you already."

"...I don't know how to lead people or how the inner workings of all this," you gesture around you, "goes."

Bucky shrugs, "I can teach you. Besides," he takes your left hand, thumb grazing over the diamond ring on your finger, "you should start learning some things anyway."

"Let me just live in ignorant bliss until after the wedding, Barnes," you pat his plump cheeks and he grins at you, eyes soft and full of love.

[fairlyang]

Lucky⚔️🐺

imagine letting your boyfriends convince you to entertain one of their sick fantasies

w/c: 3K

pairing: ghostfaces!wadewilson&loganhowlett x gf!reader

tags: 18+ smut. a polycule, they’re both perverted AF, ghostface roleplay, hide n seek, predator & prey play, fear play, pain kink x2, knife play, stabbing them (bc they can regen), they asked for it n loveeee it, reallyyy getting into character, murder mention, teasing, dirty talk, stroking, fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, mirror sex (?), doggy, missionary, two creampies

a/n: it’s october ofc i had to do a ghostface fic 🤞🏼bro it was meant to be a ramble…. and oml i’m so tired

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

it didn’t come as much of a surprise to you that your boyfriends both had a pain kink, it was something so obvious to anyone eyes. 

what was a surprise to you was the fact that the first time you properly dive into their kink and not just barely grazing them with a knife like you sometimes did, they wanted to do it in ghostface attire.

you instantly assumed it was wade’s idea, because why wouldn’t it be? but apparently after you were all watching the original scream movie recently, they had the brilliant idea at the same time and knew you had to be their sidney prescott. 

wade was so committed, he ended up renting the iconic house for the whole weekend. logan thought that was a bit of an exaggeration but once wade handed you a buck 120 knife, he said it only made sense.

this was going to go as a game of cat and mouse or in simpler terms, hide and seek. you'll all be leaning into the roleplay so there will be a sense of horror but also making sure it's horny. so you'd be their helpless victim that'll pretend to not love the whole ordeal but as soon as their hands are on you, you'll fold.

and since they want to play into their pain kink, you'd have to try to give them a little stab each before getting to the sex.

so now you were hidden beneath the bed in the master bedroom while you heard the loud sounds of them clearing the bottom floor. they had given you a minute to pick a hiding place and you didn't really want it to take long.

you'd be lying if you said this idea didn't turn you on because one check of your panties and there would lay the real answer. there was just something about your boyfriends pretending to hunt you down and knowing damn well they were checking every crevice while having raging boners.

and they say romance is dead.

you held your knife in hand, absolutely ready to use it and feeling your heart start to race. your breathing was as quiet as it could be but with the silence from the room, it felt like they'd be able to hear it so easily. 

you could hear them opening and closing doors fast, sensing that they also didn't have too much patience like they thought they would. 

suddenly you heard their loud footsteps coming up the stairs and you held your breath as they made their way up. your heart was beating faster now, a small feeling of terror creeping up on you as you heard them split up. one of them immediately went up the small staircase to enter the room you were in, which makes sense since it was the first room close to the staircase but it didn't make you feel any less scared.

he walked in slowly, taking a quick scan of the mini living room to the right side of the room and not seeing you so he then made his way around the bed to go to the bathroom. he quickly came out because there was nowhere to hide in there and suddenly his footsteps left the room. you could barely hear him leave through the second door near the bathroom which just led to another living room area with a reading nook.

you let out a breath you were holding and feel your heartbeat become steady as you heard them both on the other side of that floor. there was a quick thought of slipping out of the room to find a new hiding place just for fun but you realized they'd just be even more impatient if they had to double check each floor again since the house was decently big.

you heard their movements become faster, more frantic as if making it more realistic on purpose. then it was just silence. 

the silence only made this more freightening and it was a tiny bit scary. you breathed as quietly as you could, not wanting to alert them whatsoever then coming to the slow realization that that they both have amazing fucking hearing.

uh oh.

before you could even think of doing anything, your legs were grabbed and you were dragged out from under the bed while you started kicking and wiggling, "lookie who just remembered we have superpowers." wade's voice teased, making you groan.

you rolled on to your back, now facing them and quickly stabbed the one who wasn't holding on to your legs. you heard a grunt from underneath the mask and you pulled the knife out only for a moan to come out this time. 

you held in a laugh and were about to stab him again when the second one got on top of you and held your arms above your head. he grabbed the knife and handed it to the first one, who just toyed with it in his hands. “you really gotta love the original, don’t ya cupcake? i mean where else would we get such a good idea for murder?” wade said and your heart dropped. 

you knew this was all just a part of it but shit did it sound so fucking real. well you might as well you play their little game. 

“you’re fucking crazy you know that?” you spit and try to get him off. 

but it was to no use, he was much bigger than you and made sure to straddle your lap. nearly looked like he was about to give you the lap dance of a lifetime, which you wouldn’t put past him on doing. 

“don’t call us that baby, it hurts.” wade complains, putting a hand to his heart and you could just tell he was pouting underneath the mask. 

“and you perfectly went on with it, pretty girl.” logan teases, making you turn to look at him. 

you tried to lift your leg up to hit wade in the balls but you didn’t move an inch, you groaned in frustration and continued trying to fight him off, “you sick fucks shouldn’t have watched that fucking movie.” you spit and logan suddenly pulls a fast one and stabs wade in his side. 

he groans and lets your hands go just to start fake crying in his hands while logan says the infamous line, “now, baby, don’t blame the movies. movies don’t create psychos, movies make psychos more creative.”

he pulls the knife out of wade earning himself a moan as the blood seeped through the robe. the wound was a bit deep so it would take a little while to heal itself. “oh you son of a bitch- i knew you would try to be billy!! it’s not fair!!!” he whined and smacked the knife right out of his hands, quickly grabbing it. 

he pointed it at logan’s mask then trailed it down his body while looking down. “on another note, i think we’re gonna have to do this to you tomorrow, hot stuff.” he murmurs, making logan smirk under his mask. 

catching them both off guard, you snatch your knife right back and slice across wade’s chest. he gasped and shook his head, “not nice to do that princess, come on now…” 

you shrugged and now wanting to get to the real fun stuff, you bring your empty hand to his thigh. he looks down at your hand then back up at your face then repeats two more times while you slowly bring your hand up higher each time. your hand landed on his hard on and you hum, "huh.. what's this?" 

he shrugged and lifted the robe up to reveal his pants, "come find out?" 

you eagerly nodded as he got off your lap so fast and even pulled you up before logan picked you up and threw you onto the bed. you quickly laid down on your stomach and got as close to the edge as possible while they both lifted the black robes up and over their bodies. you ogled at both their torsos while they threw them on the floor, now shirtless and with their tight fitting pants begging for an escape.

you licked your lips and weren't sure where to begin but they decided to be kind enough to help you by both taking their pants off. you whistled at the sight, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. "i sure am lucky huh?" you mumbled making logan chuckle, "that you are sweetheart.." 

"i think we're all lucky to be fair.. i mean not everyone is down to be fake hunted for fun…" wade murmurs as he fully slides his pants down. 

"or down to be stabbed…" you joke and he snorts, "thatta girl, see! be grateful you have two immortal boyfriends."

logan rolls his eyes and brings his hand to your head, pulling you close to his cock, "c'mon let's get to it."

"hey patience is key baby.." you mumble and bring your right hand up. making them remember you still had the knife. 

he wasn't nervous, didn't even budge. 

instead he watched you intently and carefully while you brought it up and down his thighs, the tip only barely grazing his skin. you trailed up higher, going around his pubic bone and just going back and forth. you pressed a little more so the tiniest bit of blood came out but the wound quickly disappeared before your eyes. meanwhile his cock was twitching and precum was oozing down. you pulled the knife away and looked over at wade's and his was the exact same, "you guys are kinda sick…" you mumble making them both groan.

"says the one doing it." wade retorts and you shrug. 

you let go of the knife and put it off to the side while grabbing a cock in each hand, them standing right next to each other was a major help. you spit on logan's then do the same to wade's while waiting for the saliva to go down to your knuckles before stroking them at the same time.  

they both moan, making you smile as you look up to watch both their reactions. logan was looking at you through the tiny holes in the mask while wade's head was hung back in bliss. you started stroking them faster, listening to the amazing sounds they were both letting out.

it was music to your ears.

 "just like that baby." logan purred, mesmerized by the view.

"oh fuck- god really is a woman." wade moaned out, making you do a double take before shaking it off. 

you continued your pace for a few minutes before you started to slow down then suddenly kept going again. just to keep them on their toes. 

they were getting grumpy and annoyed, too fast for your liking but they were needy so what can you really do? 

you knew that if you took one in your mouth it would only be a matter of time before you heard complaints from the other one so you had to stick with just your hands. at least that was until they suddenly flipped the switch on you.

wade smacked your hands away from them and before you even got a chance to say anything, logan manhandled you and made you do a 180 then flipped you over, spreading your legs apart in front of them. they both got on their knees, finally taking their masks off to reveal your boyfriends' handsome faces while they ogled at your dripping pussy. 

logan lifted your skirt up and let it drape over your stomach while wade pulled your already soaked panties to the side, "whose the sick fuck now?" wade mocked before taking his gloves off then throwing them behind him. 

you rolled your eyes at him while logan also took his gloves off and then immediately slid a finger inside you with no warning, "fuck!"

he slammed it as deep as he could go while wade watched in awe. the way your walls were just sucking his whole finger up just made him want to fuck you already. he should be excited this was happening at all and really take it in, maybe take his time, relish the moment but he couldn't help it. it was taking so much in him to not just fuck you like he needed. 

he had a feeling logan was on the same boat but knew they had to give you a bit of pleasure before fucking you. it was only a shame because he was so impatient now more than ever.

fortunately for him, he and logan were sharing a brain cell and he pulled his finger out, "sorry baby, we're too impatient.."

wade cheered and quickly got up before taking initiative and manhandling you to flip you onto your stomach then putting you in doggy. he made sure your ass was out and your back perfectly arched before taking his position behind you while logan sat down in front of you.

he looked down at his dick and you grabbed it, taking it into your mouth and going down because there was no point in waiting around. wade slipped inside you, letting you adjust for a solid minute before he started moving.

he started pulling out then thrusting back inside as deeply as he could while you moaned around logan’s cock. he was moaning right along with you while he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

you just looked too good sucking him off while getting fucked and wade looked too good losing his fucking mind fucking you.

“fucking shit baby- you feel so good-“ wade moans and grips onto your hips with his hands, watching your ass bounce and recoil with every thrust.

you whimpered and felt logan twitch in your mouth as you took as much of him as you could without accidentally choking because wade was going hard. he now started smacking your ass, feeling each cheek grow warm fast, “taking it so well sweet pea- so proud of you..” he murmured and you clenched against him.

he moaned and started going faster, having full faith that you’d empty his balls in no time.

you pull away from logan and feel a string of saliva come from your lips to his tip as you took a deep breath, “mmm there you go.. take that cock baby.” he murmurs and cups your jaw, softly rubbing his thumb to your cheek.

your eyes were glossy. so pretty and fucked out already even though it wasn’t that long.

“baby please-“ you pleaded and gripped into logan’s thighs, digging your nails into the skin.

“what do you need, sugar? don’t be shy now.” wade teased with broken breaths.

you didn’t even know what you were begging for, just desperate to cum because all that playing around had you feeling more insatiable than usual. then it popped into your head.

“cum inside me please.” you moaned and wade groaned.

he looked straight ahead and was barely able to looking at himself in the mirror fucking you. he chuckled then lowered himself down until his chest was pressed against your back, “whatever you want baby- fuck- gonna take two loads tonight?”

you whimpered and nodded your head yes while his thrusts became sloppier and he felt that knot in his belly tightening. he moved a hand over and down to your neck, wrapping his hand around it and lightly squeezing, “mmm look at yourself in the mirror baby… think i just found the prettiest of them all.”

you grin and look into his eyes through the mirror which was just the thing to push him right over the edge. he spilled his load inside you, letting go of your neck as he made sure you received every earned drop.

you caught your breath and laid your head onto logan’s lap while wade let out his final moans and slowly started to slip of you. right at that moment logan quickly stood up and took wade’s place, sliding inside you before any of his cum slipped out.

he moaned as soon as your walls entrapped him, feeling wade’s load as he thrusted hard, “fuck- oh my fucking god baby-“

you whimpered and now laid your head against wade’s lap. that was until logan flipped you over once against and now you were on your back with your legs spread as much as you could while he began pounding into you mercilessly.

you were a mess, eyes fucked, body warm, legs shaking while logan moaned out for you, gripping the back of your thighs while he watched your tits bounce.

his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he quickly looked back at you just to grope and squeeze your tits. he kept his hard and deep thrusts at an all time high, already feeling that you were getting close.

your legs started to shake and it was like he was able to feel your pussy pulsate against him. it felt amazing feeling you tightening around him like a vice, it was a feeling he could never truly get use to but would love to feel for the rest of his life.

you were letting out sweet moans of his name as he felt his own orgasm build in his stomach, “that’s a good girl- f-fuck yeah baby, cum with me-“

you whimpered and reached down to your tits and entertwine your fingers with his. “cum inside me too baby- need it so bad.” you whined with a little pout.

with one final look at your face, he did so. he groaned as he came inside you and making sure you were filled to the fucking brim because it’s what you deserve. you shut your eyes and feel your body shake when your orgasm hits you hard while he slows down.

with a few slow strokes, you rode out your highs and he slowly started to pull out of you. you didn’t even notice wade had been on standby next to logan with a towel to help clean up the mess.

yeah you were definitely the lucky one in this relationship.

[inkedinshadows]

Rules

Day 1: Blindfold — Azriel x f!reader

Word count: 819

Warnings: fingering, oral (f receiving)

A/N: I'm so excited to finally share the first fic! Writing for kinktober was actually harder than I thought, so I really hope you'll like these 🫶🏻

Scarred fingers on your thighs, open-mouthed kisses on your belly, and rustling bedsheets.

Without your sight, your other senses became sharper than ever. You could hear Azriel’s soft breathing, the sound of his lips every time they met your warm skin, the slight creaking of the bed when one of you moved, and even the faint rustle of the curtains swaying quietly. A subtle hint of seawater came in through the open window and mixed with the smell of your arousal and Azriel’s unique scent of cedar and mist. The gentle breeze caressed your body, making you shiver and squirm in your mate’s arms as he continued to kiss and touch you anywhere but where you wanted him.

“Az…” you whined softly, a hand blindly reaching out to find his head and push him toward your dripping cunt. He hadn’t even touched you there yet, but you were already so wet, desperate for him.

Azriel’s huffed a laugh at your impatience, but he obeyed. Or so you thought. If your eyes hadn’t been covered by the blindfold, you would have noticed him turning his head at the last second, planting a kiss just above your clit.

You let out a sound that was half moan, half grunt, and Azriel’s dark chuckle against your slit only made your walls clench around nothing.

“Azriel,” you pleaded again, your voice almost breathless.

He didn’t answer, didn’t bother to move his head and give you what you wanted. Instead, the hands that had been resting just above your knees roamed back up your thighs, spreading your legs wider before they settled on your hips.

You braced yourself for what would come next, not even realizing you were holding your breath. The room was silent, everything still—except for the shadows caressing your arm, or perhaps it was the breeze again. They felt so similar that, without seeing them, you couldn’t tell them apart.

Right as you began considering pulling the blindfold away to see why the hell Azriel was taking so long, a thumb brushed over your clit and a gasping moan left your mouth.

“Look at you,” Azriel drawled. His breath was warm against your skin as he kissed your inner thigh. His finger teased your entrance, gathering your arousal before circling your clit again. “So fucking wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

Not seeing, not knowing, the inability to predict what he might do next—that was what you got off on. You hated it and loved it at the same time.

Azriel’s finger slipped inside you and your hands clutched the bedsheets when his lips closed around your clit.

Your moans filled the room, and soon the smell of Azriel’s arousal blended with yours. With your chest heaving, incoherent mumbles began to roll off your tongue as your mate added a second finger.

You ground your hips against his face, needing more of this, more of him, but Azriel pulled his mouth away instead.

“Oh no, angel,” he reprimanded. His tongue flicked out only for a second to give you a kitten lick. “You know the rules when you’re blindfolded. Or did you forget?”

You shook your head, every cell in your body focused on the fingers still pumping inside you, though slower than before.

“N-no,” you whined.

Another quick lick, another soft moan.

“Then say it out loud,” he ordered. His mouth was on your thigh, too far from your cunt.

“I’m yours to fuck how you please,” you replied. It took all your willpower not to move your hips again. “No moving unless allowed.”

“Good girl.”

His words were accentuated by his fingers curling to hit that sweet spot inside you, and his lips returned to their place around your clit, gently rolling and sucking it. But his free hand was placed on your lower stomach, keeping you pinned down against the mattress.

Azriel was relentless now. He didn’t give you a moment of reprieve—never slowed down, never pulled away. He lapped at you like a starved man, deft fingers fucking into you, and it wasn’t long before your legs tensed in anticipation.

“Azriel…” you whimpered, but his name soon turned into a cry as pleasure barreled through you with the force of a tidal wave. Even through the darkness of the blindfold, your vision turned white while your mate still licked and pumped his fingers, your walls clenching around them.

He removed them only once you had come down from your high, his lips leaving your clit, and by the wet sound and satisfied hum that followed, you knew he was licking your release off his digits.

After a few breaths, you regained enough composure to let go of the sheets and reach for the blindfold, ready to take it off and see his beautiful face. But scarred hands grasped your wrists before you could.

“You don’t really think I’m already done with you, do you?”

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings

Kinktober taglist: @thyellablackk @p1nkfluffysocks @maddieboo8 @a-courtof-azriel @whataenginerd @loviseamms @chaconnelatte

[seospicybin]

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE.

ROUND 2

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Related chapters: Round 1

Synopsis: Let's play two truths and a lie, and here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen. (10,3k words)

Author's note: I just thought that we need to play another round. Hope you had fun reading this x

Content warning: Infidelity.

Let's play another round of two truths and a lie where Minho shares three things about him and you have to guess which one is the lie.

Here goes the first thing about Minho: He is good in the kitchen.

That's the first thing Kim told you about Minho, he is good in the kitchen and that explains why you often find him in there, cooking meals or something his girlfriend, Kim, asked him to make, sometimes it's something as simple as fried rice to something as complex as beef wellington, he can do it all. In conclusion, his cooking skill is unquestionable.

Just like this morning, the first thing you see as you come out of your bedroom is Minho making something in the kitchen. Before he notices, you slowly tiptoe your way back to your bedroom and reach for the doorknob to—

"Morning!" Kim cheerily says as she comes out of her bedroom.

You instantly turn around on your feet and pretend that you've just come out of your bedroom. From her attire, you can tell that she's going for her morning run.

"Morning, Kim!" You say back with a smile, "Going for a run?"

"Yep. Minho is making pancakes," she answers as she ties her hair into a ponytail, "Have to burn some calories so I can eat more calories."

As a dancer, Kim diligently watches her weight but instead of getting on a rigorous diet, she prefers working out even though her job, dancing, is also working out, and she only spoils herself with a sweet treat on the weekend. She's heading to the kitchen to give Minho a quick peck on the lips and then puts her headphones on.

"I'll see you guys in a bit," she says before walking out the door.

Leaving you and Minho alone in the apartment is not a good idea but how can she know when you've been doing things behind her back?

Since he's already seen you, you may as well start your day, by going to the kitchen and getting yourself a cup of coffee, you just need to get the milk from the fridge, then you'll be out of Minho's way.

As you keep the fridge door open to put the milk back inside, Minho appears behind you and reaches for a carton of eggs from the fridge, his forearm brushes your waist as he retracts his hand.

You quickly step away and take the other end of the kitchen counter, stirring your coffee with a spoon while looking at the weather outside, at the sunlit clouds drifting across a clear blue sky.

"Can you hand me the sugar?" Minho points at the bowl of sugar in your reach.

"Sure," you say, picking it up and placing it on the kitchen counter next to him.

You're going to the other side of the kitchen counter and take a small sip of your coffee, you can sense the caffeine works to bring your brain to function. At the same time, your sense heightens that you know Minho is coming behind you to put the jar of sugar back into its place.

However, when he retracts his arm, his hand stays on your waist and it stays there, making you wonder what he's trying to do next so you turn your head to the side.

In the blink of an eye, Minho quickly captures your lips in a kiss and wraps his arms tightly around you. Your body is quick to respond to it but your brain is working at a sluggish pace.

By the time your brain catches up to it and tells you to stop, Minho already has his hand under your camisole and fondles at your breast.

"Minho..." you whine against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and stares into your eyes, "What?"

It's at the tip of your tongue and your mouth is open but no words coming out of it. Deep down, you know you want it and you don't want it to stop.

Instead of saying what you want out loud, you curve your arm around his neck and pull his head close for a kiss, picking it up and taking it up a notch.

With his free hand, Minho pushes your camisole upward, sending it hunched around your chest and exposing your breasts to the cool morning air.

He wastes no time to freely cup your breast in his hand and he likes how it fits him right, making him think that they were made just for him.

There's not much room for you to move with his arms firmly wrapped around you but when his hand glides down to cup your clothed sex, you start to push back against him and feel his bulge growing behind you.

Your common sense comes in ebbs and flows, and when it finally hits you, you suddenly pull his hand out of your shorts and break away from his hold.

"Kim will be back soon," you remind him with your voice tinted with concern.

Minho puts his hands on each side of your waist and makes you lean against the kitchen counter, "She won't be back for a while," he calmly says.

He then buries his mouth in the crook of your neck, peeling back the layers of worry off of you with every kiss he planted there.

All of a sudden, you find the guts to put your hands on his chest and push him a little too hard it sends him staggering a couple of steps to the back.

No matter how far you push him away, your body wants to be as close as possible to him. You find yourself walking back to him and taking your turn to corner him against the kitchen counter.

He's wearing this plain white t-shirt but gosh, it looks good on him and you like it even more when you can trace the muscles on his body through the fabric.

"But we don't know for sure," you say, leaning in for a kiss which he eagerly returns and makes him ask for more.

However, it's the grey sweatpants he's wearing that make you lose your mind a little. It's unclear whether it's the fabric or the color or the style of the pants that somehow accentuate the shape of his cock, or the way he walks around in the apartment in it and unaware of what it does to you.

You quietly pull his sweatpants low enough to let his member free out of its confine and without looking, your hand knows what it's looking for and immediately wrap your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"For all we know, she may be back in a few minutes," you say against his lips.

Minho is engrossed in how you're slowly stroking his cock as you speak, it takes him a while to respond to your question.

"She won't," he assures you, pulling you close by the waist and putting his hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts.

"She's been gone for fifteen minutes now," you say before he has your lips locked with his again.

"Then we just have to make it quick," he simply resolves, lifting you by the waist, and swiftly, he turns around on his feet to sit you on the counter.

As a dancer, he is trained to lift his partner and he does it seamlessly as if he's lifting a piece of paper. Well, he has the muscles to prove his years-long dance training.

"Minho, we can't," you say as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Instead of stopping him from coming at your breasts, you hold them up for him so he can take them into his mouth.

He sucks on the flesh hard that you wince in pain and he lets go with a satisfied grin, "we definitely can," he coyly disagrees.

"What I'm saying is—" you pause as he parts your legs open, sending you leaning to the back and you quickly prop a hand to support you.

Minho tugs his hands at the elastic band of your pajama shorts and thinking of taking it off of you, you scramble to stop him.

"Just put it to the side," you tell him.

He obeys your words, putting the shorts along with your underwear to the side. He delightfully sighs at the sight of your heating core and he uses his fingers to feel how wet you are for him.

"I can't stop when you're this wet for me," he mutters as he swipes your lips with his fingers coated with your essence, then shoves it into his mouth next.

Feeling challenged to do the same, you lick your lips and get a taste of you on your tongue, you taste so sinfully sweet as the kiss he's about to plant on you.

While his lips keep you busy with kisses, Minho aligns his cock with your entrance, he rubs his tip between your folds then with a slow push, he starts to enter you.

The kiss breaks as the two of you shift your focus on how his cock pushing its way inside you. You spread your legs as wide as possible and watch as his cock is slowly disappearing into you.

Minho curves his hands around you and then glides them down until his hands meet the curve of your ass, he pulls you close, seeking closeness as he's about to fully bottomed out inside you.

"And I can't stop when you feel this good," he says as he crashes his lips against yours again.

The room soon filled with your low moans combined with the sounds of his hips against the back of your thighs. His nails dig into the flesh as he steadily keeps your legs open for him.

Even with your brain clouded with pleasure, a slight of fear comes creeping up in you and makes you keep looking to the side, in the direction of the foyer, and the fact that Kim can come in any minute now.

"Minho," you breathlessly call in between your moans.

You continue talking when you have his attention by putting your hand on his neck, "We can't keep doing this to Kim."

"I know," he says with a small nod, "it's unfair to her."

And it's unfair how he tries to take your mind away from things by suddenly adding intensity to his thrusts and going as shallow as possible inside you.

"Uh-huh, it's unfair," you repeat your words, suddenly losing all the words in your head.

Minho pulls you even closer until you're sitting on the edge of the counter while keeping the pace steady, he lets go of your legs and wraps his arms around you instead. He looks down at his cock slipping in and out of you then when his eyes find you, he intensely stares into your eyes as if he dares you to try to stop him again.

The truth is you're just a human who tends to make the same mistakes and above all that, you're just a girl who wants what she wants and in this moment, you want nothing else but him.

The grip on his shoulder tightens as you come to your climax, your moans turn into breathless whines and you bury your head in his neck.

Yet Minho keeps going and chasing for his high as your walls pulsate and flutter around him, all of those stimulations combined with the fear that Kim may walk in on you and him doing it in the kitchen only arouses him more.

"Don't cum inside," you whisper into his ear.

Now that you said it, it only makes him want to do it and he plans on ignoring those words.

You crumple the front of his t-shirt in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes, "Minho, you can't cum inside," you warn again.

Hearing the urgency in your voice, Minho refrains from doing it and wisely follows your words.

"Where do you want it then?" He asks, suddenly getting curious about your answer.

"My mouth," you shortly answer because it's the only way to make sure to leave no trace of this abomination. No trace means you can pretend that this never happened.

Minho stops moving for a second, unsure if he heard you right. You put your hand on his neck and say again, "You can cum in my mouth."

What you said seems to trigger something inside of him that he continues thrusting into you harder and faster, not caring that you've just cum around him a while ago which only make you even more sensitive than before.

You let him have it because this is the only way you know that'll bring him closer to his release. Also, you don't know how long this has been going on but you know that you don't have much left before Kim comes back.

All of a sudden, Minho puts his arms around your waist and steadily hoists you against him. You immediately wrap your legs around him and your arms around his shoulders.

"Oh..." a raw groan escapes his mouth as he lets go just a little and feels his cock deepens inside you as you cling to him.

The two of you stay still like that for a moment, encased in endless pleasure and palpable desire for each other that it feels like the slightest movement would break the spell.

Sadly, time isn't on your side.

You slowly let go of your hold around him, forcing Minho to put you down gently until your feet touch the floor and eventually, he has to pull out of you, making you feel the sudden emptiness.

You kneel on the floor as he incessantly pumps his cock to keep the stimulation going. You can see his cock, all red and veiny inches away from your eyes as you offer your mouth for him to dump his load.

Seeing him from this point of view surely feels new to you but not less arousing, you can see his forehead wrinkled with how much he focuses on chasing his release.

The most arousing part is the way he's looking down on you, seeing how much you want his cum in your mouth and he's the only one who can give it to you.

"Wider," he murmurs through his gritted teeth.

Also added is the fact that he is someone's boyfriend, oh, everything about it is arousing you so much that your hand flies to your cunt, touching yourself as you obey his word. While maintaining eye contact with him, you open your mouth wider and stick your tongue out a little, waiting for him to shoot his load on you like a bitch in heat.

The second his cum spurts out of his tip and lands on you, you gasp at how hot it feels on your skin. You close your eyes and keep your mouth open as more of his cum gets on your tongue, your lips, and all over your mouth.

Using the tip of his sock, Minho smears his pearly white cum all over your lips, tempting you to put it into your mouth and of course, you cave into the temptation. You give his tip a few kitten licks before taking his length little by little, you compensate for the rest you can't take with your hand.

"Oh..." he delightfully sighs with his head thrown back.

To see him fully indulging in it and hearing him moaning on pleasure encourages you to keep going, sucking him hard and syncing it with the pumping of your hand around the base of his cock.

"Oh, yes, keep going," he mutters to you with his voice soft and sultry.

He puts his hand in your hair and tugs at it, using it to angle your head slightly to the back to provide him more depth as he gently pushes a little more of his cock into your mouth.

"Fu..." his profanity trails off and turns into a breathless moan as he slowly begins thrusting his cock in and out of you.

You're aware that he's using your mouth for his pleasure and you don't mind any of it, if anything, it makes you want to touch yourself more. You allow yourself to do just that, rubbing on your clothed clit as Minho is fucking your mouth.

"Mmh..." you moan with your mouth full of his hot, swollen flesh.

"Oh, you and your fucking mouth," he mutters with a low breath, his eyes intently watching how you're taking every thrust of his cock into your mouth.

For a split second, you forget about Kim until you hear the sound of the front door opening and then closing. You're about to pull out but Minho's grip on the back of your head forces you to remain still.

Your heart starts pounding inside your chest as you hear her footsteps coming closer and she stops just on the other side of the counter where you remain hidden on this side with her boyfriend's cock deep in your throat.

"Oh, it's so hot today," Kim says, still panting from running. You hear her pouring water into a glass and then the sounds of her heartily gulping it.

Minho remains calm and puts his free hand on the counter, "Yeah, you sweat a lot, honey," he says.

There's a low thud of what you assume coming from Kim putting her glass down, "And where are my pancakes?"

"I want it to be hot when you're having it," he simply answers.

"Well then, I'm going to wash my face, and my hands and I'll be ready for pancakes," Kim says.

You can only imagine how she smiles brightly at him when she said it, oblivious to the fact that her roommate is sucking her boyfriend's cock as she speaks.

"They better be good," she adds as she walks away.

You start to relax when you hear her footsteps receding, then you hear the sound of the door being opened and then closed after.

Minho finally lets go of his dead grip on the back of your head and you immediately pull out, a little too fast that you choke on your saliva, sending you into a coughing fit.

You rise from the floor, fixing your clothes as you head to the sink to wipe the mess on your mouth with the running water.

It has just sunken into you of what you did with Minho, the guilt hits you like a ton of brick and it tastes bitter on your tongue no matter how much you rinse it with water.

"Are you okay, babe?" Kim asks you as she comes into the kitchen.

Her presence makes you choke on water this time, you grab a bunch of tissues from the box and wipe your mouth with it.

"I'm okay," you answer, "I'm just choked on something."

Without looking, you can feel Minho's sly smirk from across the kitchen counter. It's best if you exclude yourself from this to avoid any slips out.

"Where are you going?" Kim asks you, she drags a stool and pats it, "Come sit and eat pancakes with me!"

"No, I have something—"

"What do you possibly need to do on a Sunday morning?" She asks with a pout.

"Come on, take a seat!" She says, excitedly patting the seat and inviting you to sit next to her.

If you persist on leaving, she'll only get suspicious of you so you relent, sitting on the stool next to her while holding your cup of coffee.

On the other hand, Minho did his part too well. He acts like nothing happened and successfully makes pancakes for both you and Kim.

"You want cream with that, honey?" He asks Kim but his eyes wander your way for a second.

"No, thank you," Kim politely refuses, "but I'll have the syrups."

Minho wastes no time to get it for her from the kitchen cabinet and gives it to her. He then takes a tube of whipped cream and gives it a shake.

"Extra cream for you then," he says to you as he places creams on top of your pancakes and flashes you a faint smirk that only you can see.

Unable to respond to it with words, you stab the pancakes with your fork and have a bite at it, hate to admit it but it tastes good.

Well then this makes the first statement a truth: Minho is indeed good in the kitchen.

-

This is it, you say in your head as the bell in your head goes ding!

The apartment may be much smaller than Kim's but it has everything you need, a bedroom, an adequate space to be called a living room, and a fully functioning kitchen. The only downside is it's a farther commute to work but the affordable rent makes up for it and that's the most important thing.

"Are you going to take it?" Gaspard asks as he floats through the crowd like a divine being among mortals.

"I have to take it," you answer while trying to keep up with his long strides, "It's the best offer."

"I think so too," he says, putting his arm around you so you don't stray away from him.

"Yeah?"

He nods, "Cause then you'll be living only a few blocks away from me."

"Oh? You know what? I change my mind," you jokingly say, turning around to walk in the opposite direction.

"Hey!" He holds you back and steers you to the right way by the shoulders, "No turning back now!'

About a week ago, you made it very clear to Gaspard that you want to stay as good friends with him but it's easy to tell that he still believes this can be more than that. That leads you to act careful around him because you're scared that he's mistaken it for something else.

"Aren't you going to invite me upstairs?" He playfully asks as you both stand outside the apartment building.

"Better luck next time," You joke back with a gentle push on his chest.

"Not even for a can of beer?" He sweetly blinks his eyes at you in the hope that will be enough to persuade you.

"Just one!" You cave in because he's been helping you with the apartment hunting and you've been walking around since this afternoon until the day turns dark.

"Just one," he repeats your words in agreement.

"Promise?"

"Promise!"

The apartment is empty because Kim and Minho are out on a date which makes it a convenient time to enjoy a cold drink after a day's hard work.

"Where's Kim?" Gaspard asks as you join him on the sofa.

"I think they're going to the movies or something," you mindless answer, you couldn't care less about what they're doing on a date.

The two of you get quiet after taking a long gulp of beer and gasp at how refreshing it is like you didn't just have it with dinner earlier.

"I reckon you're going to break the news to Kim soon?" Gaspard asks as he leans back on the sofa with his head turned at you.

"Well... yeah," you meekly answer and it reminds you how of you're not ready for that part yet.

"How do you think she'll react?" He asks as he secretly puts his arm around your shoulders.

"I don't know," you sigh, then take a sip of your beer, "I just hope that she knows that the reason has nothing to do with her."

"What's the reason then?" Gaspard asks for the first time and seems to be genuinely curious about the answer.

It feels like you're trapped by your own words, you know the reason but you can't tell him or anyone for that matter.

"Because I want to live close to you," you decide to risk getting it mistaken for something else instead of letting him in on the answer.

With the hand around your shoulders, Gaspard easily pulls you close until you're sitting elbow to elbow and bumping knees with him on the sofa.

"Have I told you you looked beautiful today?" He seduces you as he's brushing your hair to the side.

"Not enough," you jokingly answer.

Gaspard leans in to whisper it to you right into your ear, "You're so beautiful," he mutters then kisses on the cheek.

"Thank you," you sweetly say with a smile.

Catching you off guard, he places one more kiss on the other cheek and pulls away with a big smile on his face. Well, you've done your part to spare him from the disappointment so it's not your fault that he puts himself back on the track for it.

"You promised it was going to be just one beer," you scold him along with a sassy eye roll.

"And I'm not finished with my beer yet," he cleverly answers.

The front door flies open and Kim comes into sight, finding you and Gaspard snuggling close together on the sofa. She smiles at you and puts down her bag on the dining table.

"What do we have here?" She asks with a sly smile.

"Nothing. We're just drinking beers," you calmly answer while quietly putting a safe space between you and Gaspard on the sofa.

"Yeah, I'm just here for one beer," Gaspard says, emphasizing the amount of beer with a sly grin flashed your way.

"And he'll leave soon," you add, returning the sly grin to him.

Taking this as a sign to give you privacy so you can break the news to Kim, Gaspard says, "And I'm leaving."

"No. Stay," Kim says as she sits on the sofa next to you.

"I can only bother you this much, Kim," he jokingly says and comes at you for a hug, "I'll see my way out."

"Thanks for today," you say as you hug him back.

You wait until Gaspard leaves to talk to Kim about what you did today and that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon. You finish your beer to fuel your courage and quietly exhale air to calm yourself down.

"Kim, I need to talk to you about something," you start.

Kim brushes her long dark hair and rests it on her shoulder like a waterfall, "Mmh? What is it?" She asks.

Now, that you have her attention and no one else is here except for the two of you, this is the right time to tell her. You open your mouth and plan to just give it to her all at once until Minho comes through the front door.

"Where do you want me to put it?" He asks Kim, showing the plastic bag he's carrying in his hand.

"Can you put them in the fridge for me, honey?" Kim answers.

"Sure," he shortly answers, going to the kitchen to do what Kim asked him to do.

"I ran out of my fiber drinks," she says, explaining what she made Minho bought for her.

"Ah, I see..." you meekly respond, losing every word you've been carefully arranging in your head so you abort the plan to tell her about the apartment situation.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" She asks with a soft smile on her face, making you feel even more disheartened to tell her.

"Oh, I..." you feel tempted to just let it all out but your eyes keep uneasily glancing at Minho and you don't want him there to hear it.

"I forgot what I'm trying to say to you. Sorry," you lie and add a foolish laugh to convince her.

Kim seems to buy it as she cracks a laugh and gently slaps your knee, "You silly!"

"I'll tell you once I remember it," you say to her.

Or more like, when Minho isn't around.

-

Two days have passed with Kim is still oblivious that you'll be moving out of the apartment soon.

You always missed each other's timing, when you had the time, Kim was in a hurry to go to the academy and when she was alone at home, you were working late that night. It's like a mysterious force trying to hold you back from telling her the truth.

When you came home from work tonight, you found Kim eating dinner alone in the kitchen. To make sure that Minho isn't around or coming unannounced like usual, you simply ask why she is by herself when her boyfriend always drives her home and usually stays to have dinner together.

"Minho's car broke down so I took a taxi home," Kim answers with a low sigh.

"Oh, that's upsetting," you keep your expression in check as you say it, not risking Kim catching you turn his misfortune into an opportunity.

"It's about time he sends his car to the shop anyway," Kim says.

It's unethical to interrupt her in the middle of her dinner so you carefully pick your timing and wait until she's done with her dinner to talk.

You grab a can of juice from the fridge and take a seat next to her, "Kim, can I talk to you about something?" you hesitantly say.

"Sure, babe," she says, putting down her glass of water then stacks her hands together on the dining table, "What is it?"

"A week ago, I found a suitable apartment not far from Gaspard's. It's not as big as this..." you gulp air to be able to continue talking, "It's in a nice neighborhood and the rent is affordable so I'm thinking of moving in there."

A moment passes in silence as Kim processes your words, her fingers wrapped around the bottom of her glass and tapping at it.

"You want to move out?" She asks as the glints in her eyes slightly dim.

"Yes," you hesitantly say.

"I reckon it's about time that I get my own place," you hurriedly add the number one reason why you want to move out so she doesn't think that it has anything to do with her.

"It's not because of me, right?" She meekly asks.

"No," you answer without a beat, "I love being your roommate but you know... I can't stay here forever. I eventually have to move out."

"Nonsense! You definitely can stay here forever," Kim remarks as she grabs your hand on your lap.

You put your hand on hers and softly smile at her, "I'd love to but..."

You can't keep living with her knowing you've been betraying her and the guilt is eating you alive from the inside as you speak? You continue in your head.

"It's either now or later, it's something that I have to do," you settle on a reasonable answer.

"That's true," Kim weakly says, looking a little taken aback by your announcement.

"I'm sorry if this is so sudden. I didn't mean to keep it this long, we were so busy these past few days that I only got the chance to tell you now," you explain with utmost sincerity.

Kim nods and puts on a smile for you, "it's okay. I understand."

Your heart is getting heavy the more you talk, you'd better end it before the guilt gets to you and you're giving it the chance to crawl out of you. You grab your purse, rummaging through the content for the envelope you've been putting aside and planning to give to Kim.

"This is for this month's rent," you hand the envelope straight into her hand.

She folds it in half and puts the envelope back into your hand, "Take it. You need it for moving and buying stuff for your new apartment.

"No, Kim. I can't. It's yours!" You forcefully put it back into her hand but she balls her hand into a fist.

"Consider this as an early housewarming gift," she insists, holding your hand down to make you stop giving the envelope back to her.

"Kim, no... I shouldn't—" You sigh in defeat, having no other way to make her accept your money.

"I'm going to miss you," Kim's voice cracks, and the next thing you know, she's hugging you so tightly that you can feel how much she meant her words.

"Oh, Kim, you can't get rid of me yet," you playfully say to lighten up the mood, "at least, for the next three weeks."

This is why you have to move out soon, Kim is too kind and all you do in return is use her kindness to fool her and stab her in the back, you've been treating her like a shit friend, and you feel sick have to keep doing that to her.

-

This is statement number two: Minho knows that he's the reason why.

There's this gut feeling that something is going to happen. This could be just a reaction to the change you'll face soon, new apartment, new neighborhood, there'll be no Kim, and the realization that you'll do everything on your own at that point.

It's scary and exciting, you feel a little bit of both at times. One thing that always lingers inside you is this slight fear that Minho possibly knows he's the reason why you decide to move out.

A week went by and you can safely assume that Kim must have told Minho about the apartment situation. You swear you're not expecting anything at all from Minho, but he's been strangely normal and taciturn which only confirms that something is actually off about him.

You should be taking this as an advantage because then you wouldn't have to interact with him and fewer interactions lead to you making fewer mistakes with him.

Work has been keeping you busy too that you haven't had the chance to pack your things. When you come home late tonight, Kim is already sleeping and you don't want to bother her by the sound of you shoving your things into boxes.

Well, you still have a week left anyway to sort your things out and you're tired from work, you hurriedly make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

In the midst of it, you hear the knocking on the door and your first thought is that Kim must be in urgency to use the bathroom.

"Kim?" You call but there's no answer

You turn off the shower and put on a bathrobe, you carefully walk as water drips down your body and hair to open the door.

"Is that you..." your words trail off as you see who's coming into the bathroom and it's not Kim.

There was no sign that Minho was in the apartment when you walked in because you could tell from the sight of his shoes in the foyer or his bag that sits in the living room so unless he has the ability to become invisible, it means that he came just now to the apartment.

Gosh! You tried so hard to avoid temptation and now it's coming to get you. You're clutching your bathrobe together and head to the door.

"You can use the bathroom," you say without looking at him.

He grabs you by the elbow to stop you from leaving, he pulls you hard enough that your body crashes against him, then wraps his arms around you.

"I heard you're moving out," he says.

You break away from his hold and put his hands away from you, "not your business," you say.

Minho is quick to catch your hands by the wrist then he folds them together behind your back, making you unable to move as he leans in to kiss you.

You turn your head to the side, not letting him kiss you but instead of doing that, he steers your body to the back until your back meets the bathroom sink.

"Is it because of me?" He asks.

You scoff and make a mocking smirk at him, "Not everything is about you, Minho," you say, daringly staring into his dark brown eyes.

Catching you off guard, Minho crashes his lips against you and you hate that you instinctively return his kiss. He pulls away for a bit then plants his lips on yours again, deeper and hungrier than before.

Getting a moment of clarity, you pull away from the kiss and keep your head turned away from him, "We can't keep doing this to Kim," you remark.

He leans in close until his face is only inches away from yours, "So you admit that it's because of me?"

There's no way of denying it anymore so you may as well just admit it, "You made me do this and I don't—"

He cuts you off with a kiss and you have to pull your head back hard enough to break it, "I hate myself for it and I hate you for making me keep doing this to Kim," you bravely tell him right to his face.

He leans in even closer so that you can see the dark orbs of his eyes, "Tell that to me once again," he dares you.

This is the time to break away from this cycle that shackles you with guilt, you should stop now before all this guilt weighs you down and drown you further.

"I hate you, Minho," you unequivocally tell him with unwavering eyes.

Minho intensely stares into your eyes to see if your words match what you're feeling inside. His eyes flick down to your lips, tempted to lean in for another but when his lips make contact with yours, he changes his mind.

He lets go of his hold on you all at once and then takes a step back, exiting the room and leaving you untethered for good.

-

It seems like what you've said to him has done it because Minho acts like you're not even there whenever you're in the same space with him and this morning, you find yourself in the kitchen with him just quietly minding your own business.

This is good, right? That means there'll be no more mistakes, no more betraying Kim and you can start being a good friend again. The best thing of all, you get to move out of the apartment on a good note.

"Hey, you're not working late tonight, right?" Kim asks as you're enjoying your morning coffee.

"I hope not," you say, putting down your half-eaten toast on the plate, "Cause I have lots to do tomorrow."

Kim nods and pours herself a glass of orange juice, "Since this will be your last night in an apartment, I'm hoping that we can have dinner together," she says with a smile.

She walks up to Minho and places her hand on the small of his back, "Minho will be cooking, of course, and I'll get a nice bottle of wine for—"

You quickly swallow your food to refuse the idea, "Oh, no, Kim, please, I don't feel good—"

She clicks her tongue at you and shakes her head, "No, you can't say no. I'll be waiting for you to come home whether you like it or not," she insists.

Maybe it's coming from the fact that she comes from a privileged family, Kim can be quite adamant about certain things, especially when she wants something, in one way or another, she has to get it.

The whole time at work, you're debating whether to make an excuse to avoid attending dinner or just gladly accept Kim's kind gesture and come to the dinner, the latter is what a good friend would do, right?

On the way home, you purposely missed the trains a couple of times before finally getting in. You're dreading it because Minho is cooking dinner and that means he'll be there for it, and this is worse than doing things behind Kim's back because you have to act innocent in front of her.

At the door of the apartment, you take a few deep breaths with your hand holding the doorknob. You console yourself with the thought that you'll only have to endure it for one more night and all this will disappear tomorrow.

"I'm home," you announce your arrival and try your best to sound cheerful as you make your way inside.

As expected, Kim is sitting at the dining table with Minho and it seems like they started without you as you see the glasses of wine.

"Oh, there you are!" Kim claps her hands together in delight.

"I'm sorry. The train was delayed for almost an hour," you make up an excuse for your tardiness while putting down your bag on the kitchen counter and head to the kitchen sink to wash your hands.

"I hope you don't mind that we almost finished the first bottle without you," Kim says.

"I don't mind at all," you say as you dry your hand with a napkin.

As you take a seat at the dining table, Minho gets up his seat and heads to the kitchen. You can't tell if that's intentional or not, but you remind yourself to not give an ounce of care to whatever he's doing.

"Minho only needs to reheat the sauce and dinner will be ready," Kim says as she fills your glass with red wine and the aphrodisiac smell wafting around in the room.

"Thank you," You smile in gratitude and take a small sip of it.

"So, how was work?"

"Dreadful," you shortly answer and reward yourself with another sip.

Kim cracks a laugh and something about it gives you the impression that she's rather a little intoxicated already.

"I'm sorry that I can't help you move out tomorrow," she says as she pours more wine into her glass which you deem is not a smart move.

"That's more than fine," you respond, "I heard from Gaspard you guys have started practicing for the winter show."

"Oh, yeah..." she softly says and then gets lost in her words for a second.

"We're doing The Nutcracker, again," she says with a dramatic pause.

"That sounds fun!" You nicely respond.

"You should come on the opening day, I'll send the ticket," she enthusiastically says and sips her wine.

"Only if you come to my little housewarming party," you meekly say even though you're not sure you know how to throw a party of any kind.

"That's a deal!" She says, clinking her glass of wine with you to seal the deal.

The mouthwatering smell has taken over the room as Minho serves the food on the table, he's cooking pasta and a big steak to share which he has sliced, showing off the perfect level of cooking doneness.

"This is delicious, honey," Kim praises after taking a bite of it, she then turns to look at you, "What do you think?"

"This is really good," you compliment because, despite everything, you can't deny that he's a good cook which also reminds you to thank him for it.

"Thank you for cooking dinner, Minho," you say even though his name feels dry and strange on your tongue.

He only nods and doesn't say anything but put more food on Kim's plate, and you can't lie that you feel a little dejected by his lack of reaction.

The dinner would be a big awkward moment if Kim wasn't leading ninety percent of the conversation on the table but as the night goes on and more wine dawned in, Kim starts to slur her words and mindlessly rambles about random things all at once. It gets to the point that she accidentally knocks things off, first it was her glass of wine and then, a pitcher of water that is now flooding the dining table.

"Kim, I think it's time for bed," you kindly say.

She brushes her hair away and sniffles, "But it's your last night here."

"We'll still be seeing each other tomorrow," you console her.

She cracks a smile and then snorts, "That's right."

Minho is quick to offer himself to carry her to bed but before she comes into his arms, Kim crashes herself into you and hugs you so tightly.

"You're the best roommate I've ever had," she mumbles with her head buried in your neck.

You put your arms around her to return her hug and gently pat her back, "That's so sweet of you, Kim."

"And I'm not saying that because you're the only roommate I've ever had, I genuinely love having you here," she says, pausing to inhale air.

"it's going to be so weird coming home and you're not here," she adds with a sniffle.

You can't bring yourself to check whether she's crying or not because if she does, there's a big chance you'll cry too. Instead, you look at Minho to let him know this is why you can't hurt her anymore.

All of a sudden, Kim breaks away from the hug and runs to Minho, she lets him take her to the bedroom. You watch as they get inside and close the door behind them.

After cleaning up the dining table and doing the dishes, you can finally go to your bedroom, being with yourself for the first time after a long, eventful day.

The room is bare since you have packed everything into boxes and you're standing there wondering how your life fits in those boxes. It gets you all sentimental as you feel like you're going on a new path in life.

The moment gets interrupted as you notice through the reflection in the mirror that Minho is coming into your room. Before you can stop him, he barges in and crashes his body against yours, lips instantly locked with yours as if they're two opposites of the magnet.

"Minho..." you sadly whine against his lips.

When you look into his eyes though, you just can't find it in you to resist him anymore so you give in and let tonight be another mistake.

Just one more mistake, you tell yourself.

-

Minho likes it when you're saying one thing but your body does the opposite. He's holding you close from behind and his hand is down south, fingers playing with your clit before he pushes one digit inside you, making you shut your legs together in reaction.

"We can't do this," you mutter against his lips.

He's expecting you to say that at one point but not this early in the night and not when he's just started. He presses his mouth into your ear and whispers, "Fight back harder if you don't want this."

There are so many ways for you to tell him off, you can break away from his hold, you can push him away and close the door right on his face but you do want this, he can see in the mirror how you liked being touched all over and how you like two fingers instead of one inside you.

"Oh..." you shakily moan as he enters two digits into you now.

Minho can feel it blooming under his touch and how wet you are for him, how your body wants more of him despite all of your efforts to stop him.

And you know what? He wants you just as much if not more.

He starts undressing you, taking every piece of clothing off of you as eager as a child unwrapping his Christmas present, and then gently, he lays you down on the end of the bed.

You look up at him with your eyes wide and flickering with desire, "Let's stop here, I let you—"

There you go with your empty warning again, he shuts you off with a kiss, "There's no way I can hold back," he says to you.

Impatient, he rips open his shirt and tosses it aside before kneeling at the end of the bed to indulge in your pool of arousal. Your moans begin to fill the room and in the mirror, he can see you try to muffle it by covering your mouth with your hand.

Minho can't get over how wet you are for him and he wants to keep it that way as he has lots of things he wants to do to you.

He gets up from the floor and quickly gets rid of his jeans next, then wastes no time to walk up to you. He takes your legs by the ankles, lifting them and holding them close to his chest, and then slowly, he parts them open.

Oh, the sight of your wet flushed cunt will never cease to arouse him. His head gets dizzy just from looking at it and it starts spinning as you put your hand around his cock.

"Fuck!" He curses under his breath as you bring his cock and rub it between your folds, making him more impatient to be inside you.

His patience wears thin and he puts his focus on aligning it with your entrance.

"Minho, I told you we can't— oh..." you loudly moan as you feel his cock penetrates you and stop talking as he pushes the rest in a painstakingly slow motion to make sure you feel every inch of his length stretching you.

"Doesn't this feel way too good?" He says as he deeply stares into your eyes.

He doesn't need to hear you say it, he knows because you feel too good around him too. He is steadily holding your legs on each side of his waist as he starts thrusting into you.

Minho can't decide whether he should watch his cock slipping in and out of you or watch how much you're enjoying it, quietly moaning while tugging your fingers between your teeth.

One thing he knows what to do is to make this last as long as possible, he stops when he knows you're closing in on your high.

"Oh," you sigh as he pulls out of you and swiftly, turns you over on the bed.

Now, he has you lying on your stomach and he grips your waist, raising it a little higher to give him just the right angle to enter you from behind.

You whine as you feel him full again and he's lowering himself on top of you, he's propping his elbow against the mattress to not put his whole weight on you.

Minho puts his hand around your neck and slightly tilts your head to the back to land a kiss on your lips. He can feel the blood rushing in your veins with his hand wrapped around your neck.

"Minho, let's stop this already," you whine.

Despite his cock buried deep inside you, you still find it in you to try to stop him. He kisses you hard and deep as if he's trying to strip all of your senses away.

"Shut up!" He tells you, "You don't even want to stop."

From the way you close your mouth is enough to tell him that you have no response to that but he knows now that he needs to fuck all these worries out of you.

Minho does all of that, he's fucking you with all his might, he watches how your face contorted in pleasure, how your hands are crumpling the sheet under you as he picks up the pace.

"Minho..." you breathlessly call.

Before you can say anything to stop him again, he grabs your chin and makes you see your reflection in the mirror, "Look at that!"

He waits until you open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror as he asks you, "Does it look like you want me to stop?"

Fucking you good isn't enough, he needs to fuck you hard enough that you forget everything else except for this moment where only you and him exist in this sinful tryst.

"If you keep going, I'm going to come," you whine between your moans.

Minho takes that as a sign that he's heading the right way but rather than adding speed to his thrusts, he slows down his pace and allows himself to melt onto you, putting his body on yours, placing kisses all over your shoulder and neck until his lips find their way back to yours.

There's no way he's finishing this without seeing your face when it's everything he wanted the most from it, seeing how fucked out you are that you can't find words to say.

After turning you over on the bed, he takes a moment to let his eyes lust over your body and then he runs his hand all over you, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips. He's using his mouth next to suck on your breasts and his tongue to play with your nipples.

All these times, he's been good by not doing it but the urge to mark you is getting unbearable so he does it, sucking on your ample flesh hard enough that he knows it's going to leave a mark.

"Ow..." you yelp in pain but it comes out as a mewl as you try to keep your noises on the low.

Minho settles himself between your legs, burying his head once again in your wetness to prepare you for what comes next. You're whining and moaning, sometimes, it's a mix of both and it's resounding in the room.

He starts to believe that you forgot about his girlfriend sleeping in the bedroom across the room, he puts it to the test by sucking on your clit which earned a loud moan for you. He's right, you forgot about it until a while later, and you hurriedly cover your mouth with the back of your hand.

He gets impatient all over again when it comes to entering you, he can only hold himself back so much and his self-control is wearing thin. He's lowly groaning as he pushes himself back into you, feeling your tight walls welcoming him.

"How are you feel so good every damn time, mmh?" He asks in disbelief with a rough kiss on your lips.

The sex feels so much better than the previous and if he could, he is just wanting to keep doing it with you because it doesn't feel like with other people, including his girlfriend of almost three years.

He watches as your eyes fluttering open and shut, and breathless moans spilling out of your parted mouth, overwhelmed by what he's doing to you.

"Look at you! Making lewd moans for me," he mutters with an intense gaze directed toward you.

He brushes your hair away from your face and kisses your open mouth, "Aren't you supposed to hate me?"

You lick your lips and look at him through your half-shut eyes, "I hate— oh..."

He launches his cock deeper inside you, not letting you finish your sentence, and keeps the intensity of his thrusts to distract you.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!" You manage to repeatedly say and Minho roughly thrusts into you every time you say it.

"That doesn't sound convincing," he mockingly says, pretending like it doesn't affect him when in fact, it does.

"I hate you and I hate your guts," you say with your body shaking from how hard he's fucking you and your breasts jiggling along to it.

The hate somehow encourages him to keep going, he's letting go of himself and letting his body take care of the rest. He doesn't need to worry about you, he knows you are on the brink of—

"Oh, my—" You let out a broken moan as you reach your climax

Minho keeps moving to chase his high, his nails digging into the flesh on your thighs as he's going impossibly fast, ramming himself into you until he too, finally reaches his high.

Even though he's high in unadulterated pleasure and his brain is foggy because of it, he knows his way to your kiss, he slowly puts himself on top of you and softly places his lips on yours. There's something intimate about this, it feels pure and raw, it's just you and him locked in a chaste kiss.

However, when you break from the kiss, you look at him and say for the umpteenth time, "I hate you, Minho."

Isn't it tiring to lie? Isn't it tiring to keep hiding? But sure, you can say things that go against what you're feeling and betray your own heart as much as you want but Minho isn't one to do that kind of thing.

He holds the side of your face and fiercely looks back into your eyes as he calmly says, "That's too bad because I like you."

-

That makes it the third statement: Minho likes you.

If the other two are the truth then that makes this a lie, right? But, oh well, why bother figuring it out when you've already moved on from that part of life?

It takes a month to adjust to your new apartment and discover some places around your neighborhood like a regular cafe to visit when you need your caffeine fix and a bakery that sells this delicious bagel when you need a breakfast to-go.

There's no denying that you miss Kim from time to time and it feels a little lonely when you come home from work, and that's why you're excited for tonight, you're having the housewarming party that has been postponed twice because Kim got tied with her practice schedule.

Swear to God! You're just excited to meet her again and not at the possibility that you'll meet her boyfriend again.

Since you doubt your skill in cooking, you decide to order some food from Gaspard's recommendations and he also comes early to help set the table.

"You're chipper than usual," he comments as he cleans the table with a cloth.

"Am I? I feel exceptionally normal," you playfully respond.

When the doorbell rings, your heart palpation and you can't even bring yourself to peek through the peephole, you take a deep breath and turn the knob.

"Hi, my darling!" Kim gasps the second you open the door for her and you both exchange a quick, warm hug.

"Oh, I hope you don't mind me bringing a plus one," she adds, opening the door wider to let someone else in.

The excitement fills you to the brim that you feel like you're about to combust but it deflates in a second when you see that she's bringing someone else.

"You remember Astrid?" Kim asks.

You hide your disappointment and put on a smile, "I believe we met at the party," you vaguely remember her from her dirty blonde hair and Kim's fellow dancer.

"Yes, exactly that Astrid," she says as she shakes your hand.

"Please, come in!" You politely say, making a way for your guests to come inside your small apartment.

Gaspard appears to welcome Kim and gives her a quick hug, as if he heard your thoughts, he asks, "I thought you'd be with Minho."

"His car broke down again," Kim sighs as she takes off her coat, "I already told him so many times to buy a new one instead of sending his car to the shop."

This is so infuriating. No matter how much you convince yourself that you don't care about Minho, reality slaps you with the truth. You've been under the illusion that this distance will help you diminish this feeling but you do care, you care a lot.

The party went well or that's what you guessed, you were out of it most of the time, your body was here but your mind was going all over the place.

"You're so quiet," Gaspard comments again as he helps you clean up after Kim and Astrid leave.

"I'm just... sad," you honestly admit but decide to lie about the details, "Soon you'll be leaving too and I'm alone again."

Gaspard slyly smiles at you and leans the side of his body against the wall, "I mean, I can stay with you," he offers.

You scoff and put the dirty glasses into the sink, "Well, then you won't be missing me tomorrow," you say with a pout.

He sighs as he takes your subtle rejection with an open heart, "Are we still on for Sunday brunch?"

"Why? Do you need to cancel?" You jokingly say.

He bumps his shoulder with you as he joins in the kitchen sink to help you with the dishes, "Your treat!"

"Sure. My treat!" You agree with a bump into his shoulder.

A little after eleven, Gaspard left the apartment too with a long hug and a kiss on your cheek. You're going back inside to tidy up a few things while draining the wine from the leftover dinner, chugging it straight from the bottle.

It feels rewarding that you finish the wine by the time you're done cleaning the kitchen and now, you're tired enough to not think of anything else and ready for bed.

As you're about to change out of your dress, you hear the doorbell rings and your first thought is it's Gaspard, because he's done it before and he's shooting his shot for the umpteenth time. You're holding yourself back from laughing and head to the door to open it, unlocking it without checking it through the peephole first.

"What? Do you miss me already?" You jokingly say as you pull open the door.

"Yes," Minho answers without a beat as he's standing in front of you, making your heart race inside your chest and waking the kaleidoscope of butterflies as they start to flutter around in your stomach.

The first thing that comes to your head is what he said to you that night. Minho likes you and you still can't determine this one statement, well, it seems like you need to play another round to know if it's a lie or a truth.

-

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[taeyongdoyoung]

enjoy the silence

summary: your usually quiet self becomes unusually loud around your boyfriend so you want him to make you shut up 👀 pairing: chan x reader genre: smut with hints of angst warnings: silence kink, insecurities, swearing, healthy communication 🥰 belt, fingering, eating out, overstimulation, piv sex, safeword used, pre-discussed scenario, dirty talk, pet names, kissing, overthinking, they're just idiots in love, your honour 😔 word count: 1.5k

You are generally perceived as the "quiet one" among your friends. Always the listener, never the talker. Honestly, you are more than okay with it. Most of the time, you can't think of a funny or interesting thing to say so you keep to yourself. And you genuinely enjoy hearing about your loved ones' days, even if you are not the best at responding with something witty. Some of them say one of the things that they like about you is that you don't give unnecessary advice but offer your support which is more than enough in certain situations.

All of that changes when you meet Chan. He makes you feel so comfortable that you open up without realizing. Sometimes you would babble for hours and he would let you. In most contexts, you would overthink your answer and end up not saying anything. But when you are with him, you don't have to think. You just freely say whatever is on your mind and are met with acceptance. It is like he unlocked a new part of you that you didn't even know existed.

One evening, you are out having dinner with Chan, and you are excitedly telling him about what you did today, what you ate, where you went, what outfit you wore and all the silly details you normally keep inside. He smiles at you adoringly, adding "Really?" and "That sounds nice" every now and then.

You are genuinely having a lovely time when you overhear a remark coming from the table nearby.

"Ugh, does that woman ever shut up? That poor guy..."

"I know, right? Must be so annoying..."

You immediately stop talking and gulp nervously. They must be talking about you. Were you really that loud?

"Let's go home," you say in a quiet voice.

Chan doesn't question it, he just gets the bill and you two make your way out of the restaurant. He drives you home in complete silence and when you are inside the apartment, he finally breaks the quiet spell.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You didn't even finish your meal..."

"N-nothing, I'm f-fine," you try to lie but your voice breaks.

"Tell me, please," Chan urges you to trust him with your concerns.

"Channie, do I talk too much?" you ask.

"Oh, so you heard those assholes, as well..."

"So...do I?"

"I seriously love hearing you talk, okay? I've seen how quiet you get around your friends and I am glad you feel safe enough to share all these stuff with me. And to be fair, it's kind of a relief, after a long day of me doing a lot of talking, I get to listen to you. These people at the restaurant were just jealous that no one wants to hear their nasty voices."

That makes you laugh and you bury your head in his chest, enveloping him in a hug.

"Don't you ever get tired? Don't you wish to shut me up?" you want to know.

"Where is this coming from? Forget about these fuckers..."

"Not in general. Don't you want to make me stop talking in bed?" you suggest boldly.

"Oh. It hasn't crossed my mind. Is that something you'd like to explore?"

"As long as it's with you, yes."

"With nobody else?" Chan runs a finger across your cheek.

"Nope, never," you admit.

"Well, I'll see what I can do about that."

Chan looks really tired from work and you probably shouldn't push his buttons right now of all times. But you really want to see him snap. Empowered by your previous discussions of this particular scenario, you decide to give it a shot. If he's not in the mood, you'll just drop it and let him rest. But if he's in...may the universe have mercy on you.

"So I told her, no, I don't want to get drinks for everyone, Susan, 'cause you never pay me back and you always treat me like a minion and then she said-"

Chan sighs deeply because you've told this story like three times already but doesn't interrupt you. Okay, he really appears exhausted, maybe this was a terrible idea.

"Tell me to shut up," you beg him at this point.

"Huh?" he blinks somewhat confused.

"I'm obviously being super loud and you're tired. So, make me shut up and take it out on me. Please?"

Realizing where you're going with this, Chan nods and the exhaustion suddenly disappears from his eyes. His gaze is now on fire as he squishes your cheeks with one hand and pushes you against the wall.

"As long you're begging," he smirks cruelly and kisses you.

Oh dear. He's never kissed you like this, so roughly and fervently, teeth clashing against yours, biting your lips until it hurts. You cannot speak even if you wanted to, which you don't. Completely losing yourself to the feeling, you let him do as he pleases.

Chan grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the bedroom. He pins you under him on the bed and starts talking.

"Always so fuckin' loud, huh?"

You shake your head in disagreement. You can be quiet if he wants you to. You'd do anything if it makes him happy.

"Got nothing to say all of a sudden?" Chan teases you and starts taking off your clothes.

You lick your own lips hesitantly but don't dare say a word. Seeing him like this is so unexpected but you can't get enough of it.

"What got you so shy, hm? I thought you loved yapping to me. All. Day. Long."

The way he enunciates each word would make anyone else think he was genuinely annoyed by it. But you know your Channie. You know that he wouldn't hurt you. Not unless you asked him to.

"Talk to me, baby, yeah? Why aren't you saying anything?" he asks while he's unbuckling his belt.

You refuse to speak and he takes it as a sign to continue. He smacks the bed with his belt and the action is so startling you unvoluntarily flinch as if you were the one hit.

"Are you going to speak or do you want me to force the words out of you?"

Oh, so he's going to use your own weapon against you? Very well, then. Two can play at that game. Let's see who folds first.

Chan takes the task very seriously and does everything he can think of to make you talk again.

"Come on, sweetheart, doesn't this feel good?" he keeps asking as his big fingers stretch you out deliciously. Yes, it feels amazing, but you are so stubborn you say nothing.

"Not even a moan? You're crazy," he laughs but doesn't give up.

He eats you out longer than you've ever thought humanly possible, making you cum over and over again. But you still hold on, fingers gripping the sheets and teeth biting the inside of your cheek.

"Was this okay?" Chan needs to know and you swear you see his eyes watering with emotion, begging to be praised for his otherworldly skills, but not even that can make you speak.

You give him a noncomittal nod, which obviously makes him even more competitive.

Finally, he thrusts into you so deeply, so overwhelmingly that it takes every ounce of willpower for you to not break. His hard cock inside you, his strong arms wrapped around you, his smooth voice talking to you, his beautiful eyes gazing at yours. It's too much, yet never enough. You want to tell him so many things. How much he means to you, how grateful you are for him, how happy he makes you, how-

"Be honest, do you hate me?" Chan interrupts your affectionate thoughts out of nowhere.

Huh? Where the fuck is this coming from?

"P-pineapple," you break your silence by saying the pre-established safeword because there is no way you could continue enjoying yourself and each other without unpacking this.

Oh, no. Chan just wanted to hear you speak again, but not like this.

"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" he immediately asks in concern and stops his movements.

"Did you hurt me?" you answer sarcastically. "Did I hurt you? Why would you ask me if I hate you while literally inside of me, are you serious right now?"

"I was just wondering," he pouts adorably, "you weren't talking to me for so long, I thought you were mad at me or something."

"I wasn't speaking because that was part of the scenario we talked about! Of course, I love you, you big idiot! How could you possibly ask that?"

Chan smiles fondly and gives you a soft kiss.

"I love you, too," he giggles. "So, you're not hurt? We can keep going?"

"No, I'm fine. Yes, we can, I just said the safeword because I can't have you thinking I hate you under no circumstances. You're everything to me, okay?"

"Okay," Chan agrees easily. "But can I ask for something?"

"Sure, what's up?"

"Please never shut up for real, baby. No matter how tired I may look, I love hearing about your day."

"I know. The same goes for you, yeah? You don't have to keep everything in, alright? I'll always listen to you. Whenever and whatever you want to say, I'm here for you."

"Oh, really? You'll be my good girl and listen? You'd do what I like?" Chan raises an eyebrow and you long to see what kind of demon you've unleashed.

"For you? I'd do anything," you promise.

"Then no more silence. I wanna hear you scream for me."

The End

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 1.6k | mature | angst

cw: mentions of parental abuse (verbal)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 21

Prompt: Please

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The second Eddie steps into the kitchen, he knows something is wrong. 

Steve always says he doesn't mind doing the dishes and Eddie has given up on arguing with him about it long ago.

He watches as his boyfriend stands in front of the sink. On any day, he would find Steve whistling to some pop song, swaying his hips to whatever rhythm he has in his head as he soaps up their dishes. 

He's usually happy when he does it. Tells Eddie it always helps. And Eddie can't quite put his finger on what's wrong but he's definitely not happy. 

Eddie walks up to him slowly, and once he's a little closer he can see Steve's shoulders shaking. It's barely there and Eddie is unsure what to do, but when he reaches his hand and touches Steve, he knows that's the wrong choice.

Steve recoils, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a loud noise inside the sink and Eddie pulls back.

He's not sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it one bit. 

"Hey, hey. Steve. Look at me. What's wrong baby? 

Steve turns to him and his face is red and wet from the tears spilling down. Eddie feels his inside twisting, and his mind goes straight to Dustin and the kids. 

Something happened to them, and somehow Steve knows it and-

"P-please," Steve says, so fucking small. "Please, don't be mad."

Eddie frowns, his brain scrambling to catch up. 

"Why would I be mad?" 

At first, it seems like Steve's not going to say anything but then he moves to the side and Eddie sees the sink. 

The sink is a mess. And Steve is usually a neat guy so it takes Eddie one second to adjust. And then, he sees the blood.

It's not a lot of blood, but it's definitely blood. Eddie tries not to freak out because he knows it'll only make it worse

"What happened, sweetheart?" Usually, Steve loves when Eddie uses pet names, but today? Today he almost folds in on himself.

"I broke a-a mug," Steve says and Eddie has to hold himself together, afraid of hurting his feelings with the tiniest reaction.

"That's... ok," Eddie says, hoping that's the right answer. Steve doesn't relax but he also doesn't get worse, so he counts that as a win.

"No, Eddie. I broke a mug. And it's your favorite," Steve says and Eddie nods softly.

"Is it the Garfield one?" Eddie asks and Steve's eyes widen. He nods, doesn't meet his eyes. 

Eddie actually dislikes that mug. It was his father's and he felt obliged to keep it, but he kept hoping it would break. Nothing against Garfield, but he would much rather not have anything to remember his father by. 

"Well," Eddie looks at the sink, "I'll clean it. And you can go sit in the living room and I'll be there in a second to patch you up." 

Steve doesn't move. He just shakes his head and Eddie is a little lost. Maybe his hand is hurting so he tries to grab it but Steve flinches, back hitting the sink and making a pan slide down. 

"Baby, what... what is it?" Eddie asks. He's at a loss here and has no idea what to do. If nothing works, he'll have to call Robin because Steve is clearly about to have a breakdown.

"You're mad," Steve says. And... no. Eddie's not mad. Why would he be mad over a dumb mug? Even if it was his favorite, Eddie wouldn’t be made. Accidents happen and he’s honestly more worried that Steve is hurt than anything else.

"I'm not, Stevie,” he tries to sound sincere, but it’s like Steve has checked out of their conversation. Like he’s lost inside his own head.

"I broke your favorite mug. I made a... a mess. But I'm gonna clean it up." 

Eddie shakes his head. "You'll do no such thing. You're gonna go to the living room and you're gonna let me clean it. And then you’re going to wait for me because I need to take a look at your hand, need to make sure it’s just a superficial cut."

Eddie moves again and Steve freezes. 

"No! I'm gonna clean it," he says and Eddie is starting to get tired. He wants to fix it, he wants to help Steve, but he’s not sure how. 

There’s a little voice inside his head that tells him this is not about this particular mug on this particular day. Eddie likes to think he’s a nice boyfriend. Treats Steve well. Because he does. Never did anything to make Steve think he would be mad over a broken mug and definitely wouldn’t be mad about any mess. 

Everyone knows Steve is the one putting up with Eddie’s messy ass. 

Then, like a lightning bulb, something clicks, and Eddie decides to try something. 

"Steve," he says, voice stern, and Steve looks like he was expecting it. "Go to the living room. Right now. I'll be there in a second." 

Eddie hates the way his voice sounds. He’s not being rude, just a little more firm than he would usually be with Steve. 

Steve likes soft and sweet. But this seems to do the trick. He watches as Steve’s eyes fall to the ground with a small nod and then he walks away, pressing his hands together to keep the blood from dripping everywhere.

He sighs. He feels so out of his depth right now it's not even funny. He wants to call Buckley and ask her what she thinks, but he can’t right now. Steve would definitely hear it and that wouldn’t end up well. 

Eddie gets to cleaning. He collects the broken pieces and feels like the mug is mocking him, telling him how dumb and useless he is. Can’t even help his boyfriend.

He’s not in any rush. Feels like Steve could use the quiet time to calm down. To maybe tell Eddie what’s happening and then Eddie will fix it.

But that’s not what happens.

Steve is sitting on the couch, head low as he clutches his hand. His sweatpants are stained with blood and Eddie knows he'll have to ask Wayne how to clean them. 

"Steve," he says softly but even that makes him jump. He looks up at him and his eyes are glassy and distant. Eddie fucking hates it.

"I'm sorry," he says again and Eddie sighs. He doesn't know what's happening but he has a hunch and he's going to go with it. 

"It's ok. It was an accident," he says and he can see Steve shaking his head. "Stop. I'm talking now." 

Eddie's voice is calm but firm and Steve just nods, sniffling. 

"I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. That's not enough. 

"Words, Steve. Would I lie to you?" 

"N-no," Steve says and Eddie offers him the hint of a smile. 

"Right. So, I'm not mad that you broke the mug, ok?" 

Steve nods. "Ok."

"I am mad, though," Eddie starts and he sees fear in Steve's eyes. His insides twist. He's either going to nail this or ruin his relationship. "That you hurt yourself and didn't call for me. Why didn't you call me for, Stevie?"

He says the last part a little softer. Steve's eyes are on him and this is it. Either he cracks him or fucks this up completely. 

"I... didn't want you to be mad," he says. 

"Because of the mug?" 

"Y-yeah," Steve's voice shakes and Eddie takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand and broke, and I thought you would be mad." 

"Baby," Eddie says. It's hard to keep his stance. He wants to hold Steve and kiss him and promise him things are ok, but he needs Steve to see it first. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. You know that, don't you?" 

Steve doesn't seem sure but he nods. And it’s after a long sigh that he keeps talking, "my... dad.  He always got mad. Always yelled at me and called me stupid." 

Eddie sighs. Bingo. 

"I'm not your dad though, am I?" 

"N-no."

"Who am I?" Eddie asks and Steve looks at him and his face finally softens. 

"You're Eddie. My... boyfriend" 

Eddie smiles. "Yeah, I am. And I don't get mad, do I?"

"Only..." Steve says. He looks like a kid, afraid to get the answer wrong. "Only if I hurt myself and don't call you." 

Eddie feels his chest filling up with pride. He nods, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Steve's face. 

"Yeah. That's right. Because it's ok to ask for help. I'll always help you, ok? I'll always take care of you, Stevie. And I'll never get mad at something like this, ok?" 

Steve's eyes flutter shut. He's calmer now. He nods and nuzzles Eddie's hand. 

"Ok, Eddie. Thank... thank you." 

Eddie caresses his face. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I got you, ok? Can I clean you up?" 

Steve nods. "Please."

God. Eddie's heart is in pieces right now. He's so sad and so angry at the same time. He wants to storm into the Harrington's house and beat the shit out of Richard Harrington. 

He remembers seeing Steve walking around in school. Hidden bruises that no one seemed to notice. But Eddie did. 

He's going to kill that motherfucker.

But not right now. 

Right now he's going to take Steve to the bathroom in their tiny apartment. And he's going to clean him up and patch his cut. And he's going to take him to bed, to cuddle him and whisper in his hair how much he loves him. 

How he's the best thing that has ever happened to him. How Steve makes him so, so happy. How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. 

But tomorrow? Tomorrow he's going to make sure no one hurts Steve ever again. 

[dyaz-stories]

your imprint's on my soul || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: When Hyun-Su's monster shows up at your door, he teases you and implies that Hyun-Su wants more with you than what you've shared before so, when Hyun-Su wakes up, you decide to act on that.

word count: 4.1k

warnings & tags: canon-typical angst, fluff, smut, explicit consent, dry-humping, thigh-riding if you squint, handjob (male receiving), they're both virgins and are both painfully awkward, this is very soft tbh

first one-shot · previous one-shot

This one-shot can be read independently as there is nothing intense plot-wise that requires having read the other parts, but I do recommend reading them for context.

A/N: sooo, we've reached the first smutty installment for this series, though this feels so tame and so soft I don't even know if it deserves that name. It's what felt right to me for the development of their relationship and what I think makes sense for their characters! I hope you'll enjoy it!

Hyun-Su always knocks. It doesn’t matter that you’ve told him he didn’t have to anymore, doesn’t matter that you’ve offered to give him a key. He still knocks, a soft rap against your door that you’ve learned to recognize from anywhere you are in the house — it’s probably the first time ever that you are truly thankful for the terrible soundproofing in there. When Hyun-Su isn’t there, you spend your time waiting to hear it again, whether consciously or not.

So when you hear something brutally hitting your door, the sound echoing through your silent house, it doesn’t cross your mind that it could be him.

You stumble through the house to grab your bat, heart beating so fast it’s threatening to fall out of your chest. Whether it’s a monster or a desperate survivor trying to get in, you need to be ready to defend yourself.

You’re slowly approaching the door when whoever — or whatever — is outside hits the door twice more.

“C’mon now, I haven’t got all day.”

You still. You recognize the voice instantly, of course you do, but what you don’t recognize is the tone, or even how loud it is, for that matter.

“Hyun-Su?” you call out quietly.

It’s not the smartest decision, because if it’s not him, it lets whatever’s out there know you’re here, but you can’t see yourself leaving him outside.

“You could say that,” the voice answers, and it’s still obviously Hyun-Su, and it’s still wrong, somehow.

But, after a couple seconds of further hesitation, you decide to open the door anyway. You’ve heard it before, that tone, you think, even if it’s blurry now. Plus, you cannot bear the thought of letting Hyun-Su out there, if it really is him. You tighten your hold on your bat, and carefully open the door.

The second you do, Hyun-Su walks in like he owns the place. It is so unlike him that you get ready to swing, but he spots you and grabs it from your hand easily, using his pull on it to get you closer to him, his other hand coming to your waist to stabilize you with a gentleness that contrasts with the abruptness of his movement. Once he does, he shoots you a grin that makes you knees weak, and, as his blue eyes stare straight into yours, you finally understand what is going on.

“All that for me?” he asks, glancing at the bat.

You don’t bother to answer him. You remember too well the state he was in last time you saw this— well— version of him, and your eyes run over his body, followed by your hands, checking for injuries. But while his sweater is in worst shape than usual, and you find blood that you think is fresh on there, his skin is intact under your fingers.

When you look into his eyes again, you find him staring at you, amused.

“You can keep going,” he teases. Your face starts burning and you take a step back, embarrassed, but he follows right after you, eyes devouring you. “Come on, you know you want to. Why not just give in?”

Your back hits the wall, and he leans closer, like a cat playing with a mouse. The difference is, though your heart is hammering in your chest, you don’t feel that scared. Nervous, sure, but there is no actual threat to his tone, or even to his attitude.

“I’m not— I’m not doing anything Hyun-Su wouldn’t want,” you answer, and you somehow find it in yourself to lift your chin defiantly as you do.

Meeting this version of Hyun-Su’s eyes sends a rush of heat through you once again. Beneath the amusement, there is so much more. Fascination. Adoration, even.

He lets out a brief laugh at your words.

“Please,” he practically purrs, “you can’t think that he doesn’t want this.” You stare at him, and his grin widens. “Maybe you should ask him, then.” He leans closer to you, mouth so close to your ear you can feel his breath tickling your cheek. “Ask him what he thinks about when he’s alone at night.” Your cheeks are on fire. “Ask him what he thinks about when you’re lying in bed next to him.” Your breath catches in your throat. “Ask him what he thinks of doing to you.”

He laughs again, and Lord, you don’t know how your legs haven’t given up underneath you yet.

“Come back to me if he still doesn’t have the guts to do anything,” he whispers in your ear. “For now, I think we’ll take a nap.”

That’s all the warning you get before he collapses into you and you can do nothing but slide down to the floor, holding Hyun-Su’s now unconscious body in your arms. You curse the monstrous part of him under your breath, but you know, deep down, that it’s less about that and more about the fact that he’s leaving you with your whole body practically vibrating with feelings and desires you’ve been having more and more as of late.

Your relationship with Hyun-Su is good. It’s great. It makes you happy, so much happier than you thought would ever be possible after the world ended.

But you’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been a— yearning, a longing for more. Something you haven’t put precise words on, something that is almost fully new to you, because though you had fooled around with the boyfriend you briefly had at the beginning of college, the two of you had never gotten really far. You suspect it’s even more foreign to Hyun-Su.

You do know you have an effect on him, you’re not blind. You know how he can get when he loses himself in you, when he finally lets go of all the weight he carries on his shoulders. You, however, also know how embarrassed he gets when his body reacts to you in ways he can’t fully control. You’re just not sure he’s ready for taking the relationship further and, if you’re being honest, the fear of rejection has kept you from bringing up the subject.

Except that after this conversation, the monster’s words are swirling in your mind, and you can no longer pretend that the desire that makes your pulse quicken isn’t there.

Now’s not the time for that, though. You do your best to carry Hyun-Su to the couch, something you doubt you could have done before the Apocalypse forced you to put on some muscle, cover him with a blanket, just in case, because his sweater is starting to have more holes than fabric, and sit by his side so his head rests on your lap. All that’s left to do now, is to wait for him to wake up.

It’s fine, though.

You’re used to waiting for him.

Hyun-Su opens his eyes, and at first, he just feels warm and good and safe. For once in his life, nothing hurts. Your hand’s in his hair, fingers brushing against his scalp pleasantly every now and then and—

And he doesn’t remember coming to your place or seeing you.

He jumps up, eyes surveying the apartment, which looks the same it always does, then you when he turns around. All he sees there is mild confusion.

“Did you have a bad dream?” you ask.

“Did you see him?” he asks in reply.

You frown for a second, before understanding passes on your face, and Hyun-Su feels the blood draining from his face.

Last time, the monster had been with you for a couple minutes, at most. This time…

He hadn’t thought he would come here. He’d been far away, when the group of humans had gotten attacked. Intervening had been the right thing to do, he’d thought — until he’d started getting shot at. The words they’d hurled at him, he’d all heard before, during a time of his life he wished he could forget. With his attention split between the monsters still trying to get past him on one side, and the arrows and bullets coming from the other side, the monster had managed to take over.

And maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t fought it as hard as he should have.

He had never thought you’d get caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Are you— Are you—”

Hurt. Angry. Disgusted.

“I’m fine,” you answer him. You don’t hesitate to reach out to gently touch his face, and your smile is so sincere it’s almost blinding. “Nothing happened.”

He leans into your touch, unable to stop himself, and though he still feels the need to protest, it gets easier to believe you each time you reassure him you don’t despise him.

“It didn’t do anything to you?” he asks, voice low and quiet.

You shake your head, but he can’t miss the way you glance away briefly, avoiding his eyes at first.

“He didn’t hurt me,” you tell him, and he can tell it’s true, but—

“What did it do?” There’s urgency in his voice, panic even. He grabs your arms to look into your eyes, the window to the soul, they say, but he cannot read into you, no matter how much he searches.

“Nothing,” you say, but again, he can tell that there’s more to it, and he doesn’t let go, until you cave in. “He just said something.”

“What did he say?” Hyun-Su presses on. Fear is invading his every bone, wrapping its vines around his heart and squeezing it.

“Nothing important,” you insist, but it only makes him more desperate, because if you don’t want to tell him, it must be something bad, must be something deep and dark and twisted, must be something that could make you hate him. When he doesn’t let up, you sigh. “He just said to ask you something.”

Hyun-Su’s mind goes quiet.

“Ask me what?”

His mouth is dry, his lips move painfully.

“Just— He said, I should ask you what you want to— to do to me.”

It’s like a bomb just went off.

Hyun-Su lets go of you. It feels as if his whole face is burning. Shame and embarrassment overtake him, and suddenly he can’t look at you anymore, just wants to run out the door, but his body is refusing to move. He’s stuck in place like a rabbit in headlights.

“I’m sorry,” he says automatically, whipping his head in the other direction, since that all he can do.

“So, you, um, you… are thinking about it?” you ask, your voice piercing straight through his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“No, no, I’m, uh—”

You grab his hand, scooting closer to him on the couch, until your knees touch his. And it grounds him. Slowly, reason starts to creep back up from under all the thoughts, and he hears the eagerness in your question.

“J-just so we’re on the same page,” you say, as he slowly turns his head to look at you once more, “you’re thinking about… having sex. With me.”

It’s precious, how you lower your voice to say ‘sex’, and then frown in annoyance at yourself. Hyun-Su still wants to tear his hand from yours, run away before you can tell him how much of a freak, of a monster you think he is. But he can’t.

He thinks he’d rather you rip his heart out, as long as you do it with your bare hands, than to live without your touch ever again.

Slowly, he nods. His face and ears are tingling, and he’s sure he’s bright red by now.

“I shouldn’t,” he mumbles. You’ve given him so much already. So much he hadn’t dared to hope for in years. He shouldn’t ask for even more. He doesn’t deserve more.

But your hands tighten around his. Your mouth opens, closes, your tongue comes out to wet your lips as you hesitate and fidget nervously.

“No, you, uh, you should,” you stutter before catching yourself, closing your eyes like you don’t want to see what’s in front of you before you take a leap of faith. “I mean— I think about it. About you.”

A light buzz starts again in his ears.

“I didn’t know,” you keep mumbling. “I mean, I wasn’t sure that you—” Your gaze goes from his hand to the floor, everywhere so you don’t have to look at him. “That you wanted me. So I’m— It’s, uh, it’s good to know.”

“I want you,” Hyun-Su blurts out without thinking, and of course then you look at him, with wide, pretty eyes, and if he wasn’t blushing before, he sure is now. His face could burst into flames any second. “I hate that I can’t—” His eyes fall on your legs, with the dress you’re wearing riding up on your thighs. “—touch you.” If he wasn’t so scared, if he was braver… “I just…” A whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t,” you say patiently. “I trust you.”

“But I don’t,” he mumbles, looking down at the floor. “You’re so— fragile. If I lost control for a second…”

He sees you hesitate. He expects you to tell him, again, that he wouldn’t lose control, maybe that the monster inside him wouldn’t hurt you. Thing is, you might be right, but it doesn’t matter how unlikely it is. That’s not a risk he can take.

“Okay,” you say instead. “Okay. But what if— what if I was the one touching you?”

He almost wishes you hadn’t said it, with how badly he immediately wants it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says. His throat is dry. His whole body is aching for you.

“And if I want to?” You tilt your head, all pretty, and oh, how can he deny you anything?

“Please,” he whispers.

Your lips part and your breath seems to stutter, before you lean in and kiss him, and it’s like he’s finally come home. It starts off soft, slow, no different from any kiss the two of you have shared in the past weeks. Your hand comes up to cup his face, thumb stroking his cheek.

Hyun-Su melts. He parts his lips to welcome in your tongue, lets you take the lead and set the pace for the kiss without thinking about it twice.

Then he feels you move. It’s barely there at first, your hand that’s not on his face coming to rest on his shoulder, and all that is known territory. Even if your fingers actually touch his skin there, because of the numerous holes in his clothing, he can handle that.

His eyes snap open again, though, when you move your leg over his so you can come sit in his lap, straddling him. You notice immediately.

“Is that okay? We can stop—”

“No, I—”

He doesn’t want you to stop. He wants more with you, so bad, and though he would never say it out loud, he’s desperate for you to show him that you’re not disgusted in him. Every time you kiss him, every time you touch him, every time you take his hand and lead him in bed with you, he comes closer to truly believing it.

But, ah, with this last conversation, even if it’s not the first time he’s had you in his lap, he feels— heated. He can feel himself growing hard, and he’s still embarrassed at the thought that you can feel him. Despite what he said, his hands are on your waist, holding tight. He doesn’t remember if he chose to do that.

After all, his desire for you aligns with what the monster wants so closely that he’s— scared. He’s so scared of losing control. But you’re looking at him so lovingly, and he wants you so bad… Can he be selfish? Just this once?

“Don’t stop,” he almost begs, and seeing how eagerly you nod in reply is like an explosion of warmth in his chest.

Your lips crash against his again, harder, with more purpose. Your fingers card through his hair, and the feeling of your light pull on them goes straight to his core, more enjoyable than he thinks it should be, though he’s in no position to linger on it, not when the next thing you do is to experimentally roll your hips on top of him.

From your perspective, it’s a clumsy movement, one you’re unsure of. From his, it’s a rush of pure pleasure when you rub against his hard cock, one that makes him openly moan, his mouth falling open enough that he breaks the kiss. The second he realizes what kind of noise came out of him, he raises his hand to cover his mouth, cheeks turning crimson.

He’s not daring to look at you, not at first anyway, until he feels your lips brushing against his fingers, pressing soft kisses against his hand.

“Still good?” you ask.

And he is, but he’s not trusting his voice all that much for now, so he just nods. A smile dances on your lips as you kiss down his jaw.

“Also,” you add, “I’m not— I don’t have much— experience, in all, uh, that. So you should— you should let me know. What feels good. What doesn’t.”

“That felt good,” he admits quietly, and your smile turns into a grin against his skin.

“I could tell.”

What you don’t say is how hot you found both the sound and the thought that you could affect him like that, how badly you want to press your legs together so you can alleviate the ache you’re feeling down there, how you’re worried you actually want him even more than he wants you.

Instead of saying all that — it would make you feel so naked and so vulnerable, and disarm you completely, which doesn’t seem like a good idea for now —, you start trailing your kisses down his neck. There’s one spot there that makes him whimper, more discreetly than before, but you latch onto it all the same, tongue coming out to flick against the skin, pulling on it softly between your teeth. He writhes and whines under you, and when his cock rubs against you just right, you gasp against him.

You’re delighted to see reddish skin when you pull away. He’ll heal, and there will be no trace of it by morning, but there’s something satisfying about it — and the glassy look he gives you, lips swollen and parted, hair a mess on the back of the couch, with that proud mark right above his collarbone… is purely sinful.

Your fingers hook in his hoodie.

“Can I?” you ask.

He’d go to the moon and back for you.

He nods.

You pull it over his head, struggle a little when it gets caught in his hair, then manage to pull him free and kiss him again with a giggle. It’s sweet. You’re still wearing your dress, but it’s the first time he feels your hands directly on his skin all the same, and even if his body’s burning up, your touch sets him ablaze.

You explore his body with hungry eyes and hands, follow the shape of his pectorals, then move down to his abs. You trace the muscles, slowly, and as you move down, closer to his crotch, he can no longer suppress a shiver. You still for a second, and he watches you with wide eyes, waiting for you to keep moving, so badly wanting you to keep going. Finally, your fingers brush against the button of his jeans. Silently, meeting his eyes, you ask for his permission. He swallows, nods again.

He’s nervous, almost painfully so, but he notices that your fingers are shaking as you have to try three times to get it open, and it reassures him, in some ways. It reminds him that, for all the issues he has, this is new for the both of you. There are no expectations to meet, just the two of you discovering, together, what works for you.

Once the button isn’t in the way, you, very carefully, move your hand under his jeans, but over his boxers. The second he feels your hand hesitantly closing over his cock, even through the fabric, he throws his head back, trying his best not to moan again and only half-succeeding.

You watch his reactions closely as you keep touching him, slipping your hand under the boxers after a few seconds. This time he does moan, a high-pitched noise that you take to mean you’re doing something right — even if you have no idea what you’re doing. How tight should your grip be? How fast should you move? Should you be saying something? Should he be saying something?

His cock is rock hard between your fingers, harder than you’d have expected; larger, too. It seems to have been that way for a while, maybe since you’ve started kissing, based on how wet with precum it is. You tighten your grip around it a little, then slide your hand down, slowly, down to the base. He moans again, and you feel him twitch between your fingers.

“Um,” you mumble, “I, uh, I don’t really know— is that— is there anything I should—”

Hyun-Su’s looks up at you, flushed and panting. One of his hands comes to your thigh, and now you’re the one shivering under his touch. You don’t think he even notices though. You’re dripping wet yourself, but for now you just want to make him feel good. If things go well, if he stays open to this sort of things, there’ll be plenty of time to deal with that… later. At the moment, all you want is to show him that pleasure doesn’t have to lead to anything negative.

“J-just, keep going,” he mumbles. “You can, ah, you can go a little faster, if you…”

The rest of his words gets lost in the next moan as you follow his advice, moving your hand up and down his cock, the wetness helping the movement. Despite yourself, you rock your hips against his leg, the pressure of it between your legs feeling so delicious, you can’t deny it to yourself at the moment.

Under you, Hyun-Su is lost in pleasure. Your rhythm is hesitant, you’re not holding him quite as tight as he’d like, but oh, your hand is soft and gentle, and it still feels so much better than his own. The fact that you’re all pressed against him, your breath against his neck, your scent filling him, it’s all much more than what he had imagined — because, yes, in shameful moments, he’d pictured this kind of scenes, but they had never felt as good, pleasure running through his veins and flooding his body.

Any time he indulged in them, though, he came faster than usual, and now, with the real thing, he realizes too late how quickly he is approaching his climax.

“Wait,” he hears himself mumble, “I’ll—”

But he’s already coming, and the strength of the orgasm leaves him breathless as he humps against your hand, trying to make it last longer.

“Oh,” is all you comment, and even through the haze, embarrassment spreads through him as he realizes that there’s cum on your hand and on his stomach. At least he cannot turn any redder now.

“Sorry,”  he mumbles, “sorry, I—”

“No, I— I thought that was pretty hot, actually,” you say, giving him a smile, and thank fuck you’ve taken his hand off him, because he wouldn’t want to have to explain why that’s making him twitch again. “I’ll just— you probably want to get cleaned up.”

“I’m— Yeah, but—” He glances down at your body. He felt you rocking against him earlier, even if he wasn’t exactly in the right mind to say something about it. “Don’t you— Don’t you want to, uh…”

“Ah, I’m fine, I just— I just wanted to make you feel good for now.”

And just as he thought his heart rate might go back to normal at some point, there it is, spiking again.

“We can do that— some other time. If you’d like to.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t give to you.

“I would. I would like that.”

Your smile is a promise for more, your kiss is sweet, and for the first time in forever, Hyun-Su forgets about the monster.

He’s in your arms, and it’s all that matters.

i’ve been trying to figure out what to put here. i already feel like i’m kinda begging for comment on my posts, which i don’t like doing, but i figured i’d try to explain at least once what i’ve been feeling lately — plus i'm starting a new job on Monday and i don't know how much time i'll have to write after that. truth is, the lack of interactions i’ve been getting on here, on these stories, has been kind of depressing to me. i know people are reading them, considering the amount of notes, and it’s hard not to question whether it’s my writing that’s not good enough to make people want to leave a comment, or if it's just how fandom is now and in that case it just might not be for me anymore. i mean, i write for myself first, but i post because i want to share with others, i want to see their reactions, know how my writing makes them feel… and lately it just feels like i’m screaming in the void and nothing else. it’s been hard to stay motivated honestly. so, yeah. you don’t have to leave a comment, especially if you didn’t like it, i get it, i’m not trying to guilt-trip you. i just. feel the need to explain this at least once, in case it changes someone’s mind, and if it doesn't, i'll know i tried. if you've ever commented, reblogged with tags, sent an ask, know that i'm so thankful for you and you truly keep me going.

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