#it's so abrupt all the air rushes out of Minho and there's nothing to do but hug back

[star--anon]

I am very normal about traditionally romantic things being viewed through a platonic lens

[run2yew]

Rooftop.

Pairing: Hwang Hyujin/Female reader

Genre: romance, smut (minors DNI), exes to lovers, a tiny bit of angst

Word count: 6.4k words

Warnings (contains spoilers): swearing, making out, oral (fem recieving), fingering (fem recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), breakup topics, a bit of toxicity ngl, Hyujin and reader are both switches, they fuck on a rooftop lol

Summary: You could cut the tension with a knife, the air is so thick, it's difficult to tell if what's giving you shivers is the cold breeze or Hyujin's fingers dancing around your wrist and upper arm. Nevertheless, you try to stand your ground and keep your composure. "Let go."

Writer's note: This is actually inspired by this song and this song, so if you want to read it with them on the background just to get the vibes, i highly recommend it :). Happy reading <3

•

Party.

Tons of people.

How can such a sour scenario for some bring you so much joy?

You didn't know.

All you knew was that you wanted to enjoy it.

That was the first thing on your mind when Milli begged you to tag along with her in the first place, helping you pick the tightest dress you had and promising that it'd be good and that you'd have fun.

You did; for the first three hours, you did. All the drinking, dancing, and chatting with so many different people really did something for you and your self-esteem. You felt great; you felt happy.

Until you didn't.

Everything started to feel oddly overwhelming; you told yourself it was fine, that your social battery was probably dead, and that you just needed a minute to recharge, nothing out of the ordinary.

So that's what you did, quickly apologizing to Milli and promising her you were sober enough to walk around the huge house by yourself—and you were, an hour had passed since your last shot of alcohol. and going to find a place to clear your mind a bit. 

Now, you're basically just pacing around the house, forcing yourself to feel good, to feel better, to enjoy this moment. 

It's been two months, for God's sake.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your thoughts and decide to search for the stairs that led to the rooftop, forcing your brain to remember the instructions Minho (the owner of this gigantic apartment and one of Milli's closest friends) gave you.

You manage to do just that, finding the somehow hidden stairs that possibly led to where you wanted the most, stopping when you got to a huge glass door that showed the gorgeous city view the rooftop offered.

When you slide the door open, the cold breeze that hits you is immediate, and you shiver, releasing a short exhale and stepping into the atmosphere.

The place was beautiful; thankfully, that's all you can focus on. How the pretty fairy lights shone just like the city ones; the way the wind blew; how you could hear the loud music that was playing downstairs; and how you could see the entire city.

Perfect.

"How are people ignoring this?" You mumble to yourself, perplexed, resting on the parapet as you watch the view. 

The alcohol in your system was far gone, and you're becoming more present with every passing second. Closing your eyes, you begin taking in the "silence," feeling the cold breeze, focusing on your own breathing, and slowly feeling less anxious and more grounded, more like you.

"See? Just fine now." You speak again, reassuring yourself that you're good to head back and enjoy the rest of your night.

Slowly opening your eyes, you smooth out your dress and gather some courage, turning around to walk straight into the madness once more.

"Hi." A familiar voice says, and you jump, your heart racing furiously at the sudden appearance. A startled sound comes out of your mouth right after it.

You're supposed to calm down when you realize it's not a stranger; it's someone you know, maybe too well.

But you don't.

Your hand is still dramatically placed over your heart when you speak, trying to come down from the abrupt rush. "What the fuck are you doing here?" Your tone should sound angry, annoyed, and discontent, but it's more shaky and frustrated than anything.

"I thought you'd be happier to see me." He walks closer to you, and now that the lights are hitting him, you can see he's holding two red cups. "It's been a while."

He just had to remind you that he existed.

You and Hyujin dated for a year. You met him through Milli, at her birthday party. It was at this fancy restaurant you weren't quite familiar with; Milli had all these rich friends from her high school, and you were honestly hesitant and intimidated when she invited you. But you loved the girl to death, she is your best friend, and the differences between the two of you never affected your friendship. She insisted on buying you a dress - you felt bad, you didn't want her to spend her money on you when it was her birthday, but she wouldn't let you hear the end of it if you didn't accept it. She had the power to convince you to do the unthinkable.

When you got there, you felt a bit dislocated, but those people grew on you over time, and you found yourself opening up to them slowly throughout the dinner. 

Hyujin was an exception; he made you feel like you knew him for years the second you arrived there. He was annoying and dramatic, but it was crazy how you connected with him right away. The frenemy dynamic fits the two of you like a glove.

You spent the entire dinner sneaking little snarky comments at him; he'd make a few lighthearted jokes about you, and you'd scoff, ignoring the way your heart skipped a beat when he scooted closer to your side and whispered something about Chan being old in your ear. Everything felt natural and fluid, like you were two different pieces of a puzzle that someone decided to place together by accident but somehow worked.

It didn't take long for you to start tagging along when Milli hung out with her friends, and even though you would never say it out loud, you always hoped Hyujin would be there too.

The teasing between you two soon became less friendly, less innocent, more flirtatious and dearing, and when Jisung brought up your "ranging sexual tension" at a random party, the two of you just couldn't deny it anymore.

So you fucked in his room. 

With the door unlocked. 

While everyone was downstairs partying.

Definitely an experience.

He asked you out on a date right after, saying, "You'll fall in love with me anyway; might as well speed up the process." He said, in between pecks on your face.

Once you truly became close to him, you realized he was so much more than what he actually showed to people. He was so full of passion and so artistic, he had the most beautiful way of seeing the world. Every time he would be courageous enough to show you his paintings, drawings, and pictures, it was like you had the privilege of seeing the world through his eyes, and you fell for his way of seeing things rather quickly.

Well, you fell for him rather quickly.

Dating him was thrilling, fun, and so fucking sexy. Hyujin liked experimenting in different ways; he liked encouraging you to try different things and push your limits, and the best part was that he did it without putting pressure on you. He's probably the main reason you know what gets you going and your kinks so well; he helped you through it, and oh boy, was he good at it. He was always quick to assure you that you could stop at any point or call him out for being pushy as well.

Being with Hyujin was easy. Understanding him and feeling understood by him felt like second nature to you, going on museum dates, using taking Kkami on a walk as an excuse to get ice cream, enjoying the silence as you read a book and he paints by your side...everything was perfect. You loved it.

You loved him.

So you vocalized it, and you told him you loved him afterward. It was so sudden—a random rainy Monday took place when he texted you, saying he had something to give you. He gave you the most beautiful painting you've ever seen—a painting of you at the park, holding Kkami with a huge smile on your face—the day you met his parents.

You felt the tears forming, and you couldn't hold them back as you whispered softly, "I love you." 

It comes easily to you; you grew up in an affectionate family where saying you loved each other was common, so you carried that throughout your entire life. You always told your friends you loved them when you felt the feeling bubble up inside you, and even though some of them didn't feel "ready" to say it, you knew they felt the same. 

Because to you, if you love someone, you tell them. 

But Hyujin didn't love you. 

He didn't say it back; he just nodded and gave you a forceful smile, pulling you close before wiping the tears away from your face. You stiffened; you were petrified that you said something wrong, but you decided to stay just like that, being held by him.

He spent the rest of the night weirdly silent, only talking when talked to.

The next day, he left without saying goodbye. You woke up to an empty bed and a small note with an apology; you figured he just had to rush for something.

But three days passed and he was still weird, three days became six, and you were already starting to panic. He was avoiding you in every possible way.

You felt like you ruined it, like you ruined your perfect, happy, and healthy relationship by vocalizing how you felt.

It hurt so bad, and when you called him to try to convince him to meet up so you could discuss it, he cut you off by saying he "didn't think it was going to work out." You crumbled into pieces on top of your bed. 

It was like your world was shattered, and you couldn't piece together any of the words he said after that.

Hyujin was breaking up with you right after you told him you loved him, and that was the only thing on your mind.

He never gave you a proper explanation either; he just ran around in circles and apologized for feeling the way he was feeling, which only fueled your sadness and anger more. You cried for hours—for two days straight. To your relief, you had the most amazing people by your side during the breakup; they helped you build yourself back up.

Hyujin didn't need to love you, he didn't have to. He just needed to say something to make you stay. 

He didn't.

Slowly but surely, you picked up your pieces and did your best to go on with your life, even though you've never been that brokenhearted. 

The stinging pain that you felt in your chest every time you'd see something that reminded you of him slowly went away, or maybe you just got used to it. It didn't hurt anymore.

A month passes, and that's when you decide to go to your first party after the breakup, a medium one at Yeonjun's house. It was nice, nothing too much, but the thought of maybe running against Hyujin haunted you, preyed on you. 

You probably attracted it, and the moment you locked eyes with Hyujin again is still unforgetable; there was so much need and want in his eyes as if he were saying "Please" without opening his mouth. 

He was the first to break the barrier between the two of you and grab you by the waist, rushing out of the party without exchanging a single word with you, and honestly, you didn't feel like talking to him.

The whole ride to his house was completely silent, and when you finally got there and he opened the door, it was like a switch had been flipped as he pulled you by the neck and attached your lips.

All you could think about was how much you missed him and how much you loved him.

Hell, you should've pushed him away before it was too late, but resisting his touch didn't seem like an option at the time. 

The way he fucked you was different too; he wasn't just fucking you; he was making love to you in a way he had never done before. It was overwhelming, to say the least, and though you felt good, it still stung, but it also sparked hope inside of you. 

Maybe he did want you back; maybe he did love you.

But you woke up the next day to the same familiar note.

"Let's forget about this." 

So you storm out of his apartment, crying like the stupid person you were for believing in him, thinking he'd want something more with you, thinking he had changed. But he didn't, and you hated that.

That's when you started hating him.

"What do you want?" You question impartiality, crossing your arms in front of your torso.

"To see you." He puts it simply, taking another step closer to you as you lean back to rest on the glass parapet.

This fucking asshole

Oh, you hate him. And the way he's so calm and collected, as if this whole situation doesn't affect him at all, is reminding you of that. He's still the same smug little piece of shit that dumped you and used you.

Your brain is screaming at you to leave, but your body seems incapable of complying with that wish, even when you can nearly feel the hatred you have for him curse through your veins.

"Hyujin, if you think I'm making the same dumb mistake twice, it's not going to happen." You affirm.   Grounding yourself in where you stood and watching his smirk disappear into nothing, like he just now understood you're serious.

He scuffs: "Oh, so we're calling a mistake now?" "Such a pleasant one, though, wasn't it?" A pout forms on his lips, and you want to punch it right out of him, especially now that you've started boxing. You want to watch him groan in pain as his nose bleeds.

Okay, maybe you have a problem.

"Pleasant to who?" You ask, shoulder going up and down in question, batting your eyelashes, trying to hold back the smile that wanted to come out.

Hyujin lets out a single sharp laugh at that, shaking his head in denial, "You know how good that was, don't be so fucking stubborn."

"Stubborn?  You break up with me over the phone, come back, sleep with me, and tell me it was "nothing" afterwards. Now you're interrupting my very precious alone time, and I'm in the wrong?" 

Leave; you need to leave; you're showing too much emotion, this is what he wants—a reaction out of you.

"I hope you're fucking miserable." You spit, nearly storming past him, bumping against his tall figure in the process, and heading straight to the glass doors.

"You didn't seem to hurt that much when you fucked Jisung." He argues, his voice rising, but you feel his tone shake for the first time in this conversation.

Oh no.

He didn't say that.

You stop mid-motion, your grip on the door handle is so tight it hurts. The anger that burns inside of you fuels you completely.

"What?."  You all but whisper, still facing the door, completely incredulous. There's absolutely no way he's telling you this when he was the one sleeping with Felix four weeks after you broke up.

"You heard me." He adds.

You breathe in, eyes narrowing. This is all calculated to get a reaction out of you. You spin on your heel to face him in pure disbelief at the words that just came out of his mouth.

"You're joking, right? Cause you have to be." 

He doesn't answer, of course; that wasn't his thing; giving actual answers and talking through things wasn't in his dictionary. But the way his gaze is piercing through you speaks for itself.

"Wake the fuck up, Hyujin. We're not together anymore; I can do whatever I fucking want." You grumble, louder than you intend to. "I can sleep with all of your friends if I feel like it."

You can see Hyujin's jaw clench at the idea, you know him so well you can read past every reaction of his. He nervously licks his lips, trying to keep his head up and not lose his confident demeanor, but you can see him crumbling, struggling to get the idea out of his head, unable to meet your eyes.

"Slut." He murmurs, eyes rolling, hands resting on his sides.

When you laugh, nodding simply, Hyujin's eyelids twitch, his anger growing further. His words are meant to hurt you, you think. But they don't.

"Well, yes."  You agree, and now it is your turn to step forward, suddenly getting an idea. "Just not for you anymore. Not your slut."

This has never happened before, usually, you're the one to run away from his gaze, you're the one that nervously stumbles over your own words and can't seem to escape his heady scent and gorgeous face. 

You were the one to tell him you loved him first, only to be pushed away right after.

Now, you've got him in the palm of your hand, and he knows it too. All this power you suddenly had felt too good. So you take another step, and another, and another. Until he's basically within arm's reach.

"I fucking hate you so much for what you did to me, Hyujin." You sharply point, raising your index finger at him, gently tapping his chest, an action that contradicts your bitter tone.

"Should've done it worse, so you would learn not to fuck my friends." He comes closer, forcing you to look up at him in order to meet his eyes.

"Jisung didn't seem bothered by it when he was over me." You shrug, turning back to walk away again, and leave him hanging at that. But Hyujin has different plans, his hand flies to your wrist, holding with a strong grip, and turning you back to him.

"Careful." He warns before tracing your wrist with his fingers, grip so fucking strong it hurts. But you're not backing down, you can't.

You could cut the tension with a knife, the air is so thick, and it's difficult to tell if what's giving you shivers is the cold breeze or Hyujin's fingers dancing around your wrist and upper arm. Nevertheless, you try to stand your ground and keep your composure. "Let go." 

"No." He steps dangerously close again, and you hiss, sealing your lips.

"Hyujin, I'm going to warn you one more time-"

He leans in to kiss you in a heartbeat, and you curse yourself internally for melting so quickly into his touch, his lips are so soft, and it's like your body is screaming, "I miss this; I miss him." You're perfectly connected, like pieces of a puzzle.His hands move to your waist, hugging you close like you could slip away at anytime.

Which you do, preventing him from deepening the kiss by pulling away in a second and pushing your body away from him. Failing when he pushes you back with a strong hand around your waist.

"Hyujin, let go of me. I'm not doing this." You warn, and fuck, you sound so breathless from just a kiss, it's humiliating.

His gaze softens, his brows furrow, and you catch a glimpse of something you've never did before: regret. His hand moves softly to cup your face, his thumb tracing your cheeks. "You don't mean that."

"Exactly." You admit it, slamming his hand away from you. "That's why I'm trying to get away from you as soon as I can, because I can't do this anymore I-"

"I love you." He confesses, voice shaking, eyes watery.

Oh my fucking God.

"Hyujin...please." 

"It's true. I guess I've always loved you. But I was so scared to vocalize it; the thought of telling you I loved you and then you leaving me was... terrifying." He speaks quickly, stumbling over his words and shutting his eyes forcefully.

"So you left me first?" you ask, crossing your arms.

"I left you because I was scared you'd do the same to me when our relationship began to grow past the surface. I thought you'd jump off when you saw my true colors, my insecurities..."

You feel like you're about to burst, your legs get wobbly, and your mind spins.

Why are you only hearing this now?

"Hyujin I would never leave you for that. I cared about you so much. I'd do anything to make you feel better." You step closer to him, growing soft and gentle, just like you promised you wouldn't.

"I know that now. But I didn't at the time, so I acted stupid all because of my fucking abandonment issues, and then you left, and I just watched you leave twice, and today... I couldn't watch that anymore, after the day at that party, everything clicked to me, I knew I belonged with you. I knew I loved you" Hyujin really looks at you, as if he's grasping at your soul. There's this prominent hint of vulnerability in him that you've never seen before.

Is so sincere, different from what you're used to seeing in him. You wonder if you're just falling into his tricks again.

"You can't just walk into my life again like nothing happened!"

"I'm not trying to. I wanna make things better; I wanna earn you; I wanna start over."

"I don't think that's possible." You admit, shrugging, attempting to push away your intrusive thoughts screaming at you, just try, he regrets this, try again.

"I just need one chance. Please, I really do love you, I can make it up to you. You won't regret this." He uncrosses your arms, holding both of your hands and fondly interlocking your fingers together.

"I regretted it last time..." You sigh. The bitter thoughts of thinking he wanted to start again, to be different, came rushing back. The shattering feeling of being alone in that bed. It killed you.

"This isn't like last time. This is different. I understand how I feel now. I am in love and trying to fix things."

You hate how honest he sounds.

"Why are you only telling me this now? I gave you plenty of chances in the past."

"Because I'm a coward. And I was afraid, too, and I was trying to wrap my head around the information, just like you're doing now."

You shake your head, ready to let go of his hands, but he pulls you back to him, looking deep inside your eyes when you notice his own are teary, like he's on the verge of tears. You've never seen him cry in the past two years that you've known him.

"Just one more chance." He pleads shakily as tears escape from the left sides of his eyes. He takes in your expression so fondly, eyes shining with hope but filled with sadness—it's all new to you. Hyujin was never the one to let you know what he was feeling so directly. You were the one to confess; you were the one to confront him, you were the one that fell back into him.

He leans to rest his forehead against yours, and you close your eyes. feeling what it is like to be this connected to him again. "Please." He repeats.

It's all it takes for you to pull him into a tight hug, wrapping your arms around his figure and allowing him to fall apart in your embrace. He does, sobbing lightly.

You waited so long to hear him say these words, and part of you thought they'd never come out of him. It's hard to believe it, and you might be dumb for this, but you want to believe it. You want to believe him.

"If you screw this up, I'm going to kill you." You whisper against his ear, and he chuckles, sniffing and pulling away to wipe his tears. 

"I'm not joking." You playfully warn, swatting his arm.

"I'd die happy in your arms." He shrugs, and you snort, rolling your eyes, suddenly feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, the tension still lingering, just differently now.

"Shut up." 

That's when he closes the distance between you, pulling you to him by your waist like he always loved to do. You missed it. It's undeniable.

Please, Hyujin, don't make me regret this tomorrow morning.

He's kissing you tenderly, lovingly, and attentively. It contrasts from how he used to kiss you before—there's no rush, no hurry, just an utter and pure feeling as his arms hug your waist so tightly and your hands wrap around his neck easily, like they know they're supposed to, without you even thinking about it.

When you finally open your mouth, giving him access to bring his tongue to dance along yours, a sigh of relief leaves you. It's like your bodies were made for each other, made to connect.

Hyujin's hands quickly move to your waist, rubbing soft circles there with the pads of his fingers, the kiss turns feverish within a second, and it doesn't take long for you to run your fingers through his very soft hair, tugging on the strands with need.

You pull away when your lungs are screaming, nearly giving out, and stare at him, his plump, swalled lips and dark sparkling eyes affecting you more than they should.

Without thinking, you grab him by the collar of his shirt, pushing him against the huge couch and sitting on top of him.

"You're so gorgeous, it literally hurts me." He adds, looking up at you with eyes full of adoration.

"Same." You simply put, kissing him again.

Your hands skillfully move to remove his leather jacket, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and throwing it somewhere. Your senses are filled with him—his smell, his touch, his presence. It's almost asphyxiating; you hope it doesn't kill you.

"I love you." he says, moving to place kisses all over your neck. You moan, throwing your head back, when he sucks and bites on the skin. "I missed you so fucking much."

"Missed you too.." You can't gather the courage to tell him you love him back, not when all of that happened, not when you're still... wondering.

"I'm going to make you feel so good, gonna make you know how much I love you." He leaves a trail of saliva along your jawline, squeezing your tights so harshly that it draws a whimper out of you.

"Fuck, just...please."

"You want it here? Where anyone could see?" He's rubbing your inner thigh now, so close to where you need him the most.

You nod, and you wish you could say it's the booze talking, but you haven't drank anything in a two hours. You're just that careless.

With a single motion, Hyujin flips the two of you. Your back hits the couch, and your head is met with a soft pillow. Hyujin is now on top of you, smirking. Your dress has ridden up completely, exposing your panties.

"You're so pretty, I was such a fucking idiot." He lifts your dress further, kissing your belly, and you squirm under him. 

"Hyujin..."

"Patience. I need to take my sweet time with you, hm? I want to redeem myself." 

"You can redeem yourself quickly." 

At that, he laughs, giving you a playful slap on the inner thigh and softly licking the flesh.Your chest rises and falls so heavily that it feels like you've been out of air for ages. You're arching your back, opening your legs further, trying to get him to finally get to where you need him.

But Hyujin was a tease in every possible way. He liked to drag out every touch; he liked to see you struggle and squirm and fall apart for him, he liked to see you beg.

That's it.

He liked to see you beg.

"Hyujin, please, missed you so much, really want you, need you. Please."

He looks up at you, eyes narrowing, and you see his expression darken completely. He tugs at your panties so fast you barely feel them, and you have no time to process before he's already diving into your cunt, licking every aching part of you. 

It feels so good, so delicious, and he has always been the best at giving head - especially after a day, on your birthday, when he wanted you to teach him exactly how you liked it. - he furiously sucks on your clit and you moan loudly, there's no way people can hear you from where you are - and if they do, you don't care.

His tongue is moving so fucking artfully against you, you're already desperate—that it has your eyes rolling back to the top of your head and your hands clasping his hair and pulling hard, just as you know he likes it. He lets out an approving groan, and you push his head back to your middle, already missing the contact.

When he's back at it, his hunger goes up by a hundred percent. 

You might go fucking crazy.

"F-fuck Hyujin, how the fuck did you get even b-better at this?" You stutter.

He chooses that exact moment to push his fingers inside of you, and at the same time, you clench immediately, struggling to hold back the growing urge to fuck yourself on his fingers.

"Holy shit Hyujin your mouth, you're so good, so good to me."

You feel yourself on the brink of your high as Hyujin does something with his mouth that has you nearly screaming—but also, where the fuck did he learn that? -  Regardless, it has you shaking, unable to stop moaning his name, begging him to keep going, and crying out inconsistently.

"Oh my, fuck, Hyujin, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, yes." 

He curves his fingers, and you swear you see fucking stars when he hits that spot inside of you, it's when you break apart completely, pushing your entire body forward, moaning his name so loudly it scratches your throat.

Hyujin coaxes you through your orgasm, and when you're - finally, cause it took a while - coming down, he leaves a trail of soft pecks on your clit, chuckling when you shut your legs, still sensitive.

"Holy crap I don't think I've ever... gosh, Hyujin, that might have been one of the best orgasms I've ever had in my entire life."

He bursts out laughing, sitting back on your side and kissing your cheek lovingly.

"You're so easy to impress." 

"You call that easy?" 

"I mean, I've done better."

You smirk, yes, he has. Five months ago, at the beach house But this was a close second.

"Fair." You shrug. "That was so, so good though." You move closer to him, carefully moving your hand to his thigh.

"Yeah?."

"Yeah." You let your hand fall over his - painfully hard - dick, closing your hand around him, his breath catches.

"Shit."

As you softly stroke him, you begin, "Can I ride you, Jinnie?"

You don't want to laugh, but it's hard not to when you literally feel his cock twitch with that simple nickname you haven't used in months.

"You're so naughty." He says, holding you with both hands and placing you on his lap. So much for being in control, you think. "Didn't even let me make it up to you, talk to you properly, before jumping on me like a needy bunny." 

"I mean, you said it before. I'm a slut." 

"My slut." He adds. "Just for me."

"Let's see about that." You argue, pulling him into a searing kiss, slowly grinding down on his hard length, his breath catching in the process.

His hands move to your ass, squeezing harshly, the kiss is messy, with lots of tongue just how you like it. It has you moaning against his mouth and rolling your hips even more furiously.

Quickly, you begin to take off his belt, unbuttoning his pants with hungry eyes and a lick of lips.

Hyujin smirks at you, stopping you mid-motion. "Needy, aren't you?"

"Been a while." You admit, holding yourself up with your knees and pulling his jeans down.

Hyujin doesn't question, he just lets you work and lets you use him. You can see by the look in his eyes that he is dying to make you feel good, but all you can think about is making him a mess. You want him to know there's no one better for him than you, there's no way he could forget you. 

"Clean?." You tilt your head in question.

"Yes. You?."

"Yeah, and on the pill."

He leans in to peck your lips.

"Perfect." When you start to tease him at your entrance and watch the sight of his head thrown back and eyes forced shut, you know you're doing just that. You sink into him slowly, cautiously, it's been a good while since you've been with Hyujin, and he's not exactly...small. 

Once you sink in completely, you can feel every inch of him opening you up, stretching you so nicely that a loud moan leaves you right away. 

"Shit, you're so tight....so warm." He shakily adds.

You're so needy that you have no time to adjust before subconsciously rocking your hips against him, eventually bouncing up and down in a rhythm you know drives him crazy. 

Hyujin is already an utter mess under you, shaking, mouth agape, and looking so fucked out before you've even started to do anything. He's right where you want him.

"Holy fucking crap! Wait. I-I might need a moment." He grips your hips, harshly digging his nails into your skin to keep you steady.

Chuckling, you nod your head and wait for a minute or two. Hyujin always loved this position more than you did, but you can't say it doesn't do wonders for your ego to see this hell of a man go insane just from feeling you like this. He's so close already, it makes you want to do more.

"It's okay, Jinnie, I'm here. You're alright." You soothe, placing a kiss on his forehead. "Can I move now?"

"Yeah, just...slowly?." His eyes are sparkling, and his voice is covered in honey, his hair is a mess, and his lips are swollen. He is definitely a sight.

"Of course, baby." You feel his cock twitch inside of you again from the nickname, and you smile to yourself before rocking into him, slower, but harder.

This time it builds, and Hyujin moves an efficient hand to work on your clit while you bounce on him with such vigor, you can't believe you're actually doing this in the middle of a rooftop. But right now, the thought of it seems to make you even wetter. Eventually his lips meet yours halfway with sloppy but deep trusts, and you have to hold on to his shoulders to ground yourself, feeling lost in pleasure. Senses filled with Hyujin, Hyujin, Hyujin.

"So good, oh my God, so good. I missed you so much, was so stupid of me to let you go. I love you."

You clench at his words, and he notices it. Looking up at you with a smile, not even an ounce of a smirk, he brings his hands to lift your dress and props one of your hardened nipples on his mouth, sucking deftly.

"You like it when I tell you this, don't you? You're so hot. I love you so much, I'm gonna stay with you for a fucking life time. Gonna be with you forever, I want you so bad I can't believe I have you again."

"H-Hyujin, don't fucking say that, shit..."

The knot inside of you only grows and grows, and even with the aching of your thighs and tiring legs, you can't stop moving against him in such a lewd way. You want to cum so badly, you're going crazy.

But Hyujin knows you too well; he notices the signs, and his thrusts begin to get sharper, faster, and deeper, hitting a spot inside you you haven't felt in fucking ages, which drives a loud mewl out of you.

"That's it, just don't stop, fuck- Hyujin, it feels so good, I'm so full; you fill me up so well." 

You're going to snap, you're going to snap anytime soon, and you need him to do it with you. 

"I love you, Hyujin, I love you so much. There's no one that can fuck me like you do, no one that can love me like you do." You're completely drunk in pleasure, not fully aware of the words that are coming out of you, but they linger there, coming from such a vulnerable place.

"Fuck, if you say that, I'm gonna fucking cum." 

"Do it w-with me,  I-I'm so close, Jinnie, so close."

It only takes a few drag out circles on your clit and you're convulsing on top of him, crying out his name twice as loudly as you did before, tears threatening to escape as he continues to fuck you out through your high. It doesn't take long for him to paint your walls, kissing you furiously and whimpering a few thank yous and I love yous against your chest. It feels so good, almost too good to be true.

You stay like that for a moment, holding each other, feeling the heavy breathing steady itself, hearts pounding in unison.

Then clarity hits you, and you realize that you did, in fact, fuck with your ex for the second time. on a rooftop.

"Hyujin?" you say, gently running your fingers through his hair.

"Yeah?."

"Did you really mean all of that?"

"Of course I did, my love."

You want to cry.

"I'm so sorry. For everything that I did and for the things I said today, I was angry at myself and couldn't find the words, so I just...blamed it all on you." He adds.

"I know you are. You're just going to have to prove it."

"I'm dating you so hard, starting tomorrow."

"Sure, but first, your apartment? I need a shower, and maybe... round two?"

"You're insatiable."  He chuckles, lovingly biting on your shoulder.

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

You wake up the next day alone on his bed, with no note.

The smell of pancakes fills your nose, and you smile brightly when you hear the familiar humming of lyrics coming from the kitchen.

It's hard to believe it.

You're wearing Hyujin's shirt, covered in his scent, while you tiptoe to the kitchen and meet the sight of him, apparently making breakfast for the two of you. 

When his eyes find yours, he gives you the widest, most sincere smile—one that warms you from the inside out. 

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." 

"You're here." You say, eyes teary.

"I told you I would be, you make me want to stay."

You run to hug him, and he quickly catches you, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as he holds you tight.

"I love you."

"I love you more. Thank you for giving me a chance."

Feel free to reblog and comment on this with your feedback, or send me an anon or ask, I'm always open to it and I'd appreciate it a lot! <3

[heliads]

Secrets Kept

Based on this request: “thomas x reader and one of the other people are being rude and they slap her and they get all worked up and mad? (maybe the person is making fun of her because she got attacked by a griever (she’s a runner) and minho had to help, but minho also stands up for her)”

masterlist

You’ve been running in the Maze for maybe an hour, maybe more. It’s not long enough. It’s funny how every morning, you wake up and manage to convince yourself that being a Runner is easier than you think, that you’ll be able to keep moving endlessly and never have a problem with it. You seem to forget how hard your job is overnight, but you’re reminded of it every single morning. To be honest, you’re not sure what you expected when you signed up to be a Runner in the first place, but the constant exhaustion is just one of the side effects.

That being said, you wouldn’t trade this job for anything. A slight grin appears on your face as you look around you, tilting your head up to feel the breeze whipping around the corners of the Maze. Your mind is turning, thinking of ways to remember every hall and corridor that you cross. Beside you, your running partner turns to you, eyebrows raised over your apparent delight. This causes Minho’s attention to be focused solely on you, which is why he doesn’t notice your boyfriend, Thomas, appearing down a nearby corridor.

Your eyes widen imperceptibly. Thomas isn’t supposed to be here, not at all. You joined the ranks of the Runners a long time ago, way before Thomas even showed up here and wanted to risk his neck with the rest of you. That meant that he would be a part of a different pair of runners, one that wasn’t you and Minho, and that he would be assigned a completely different part of the Maze to run for today. Ever since the Gladers discovered that different sectors of the Maze opened at different times, they carefully divided each sector into runnable routes that were parceled out to the various pairs of Runners. Basically, all of this means that you shouldn’t once see Thomas during the entirety of your daily run, yet here he is now.

You think you know why he’s here, though. Your theory is proven when Thomas stumbles to a halt mid-step after realizing that Minho is seconds away from discovering you, and quickly stumbles behind a wall of the Maze for cover. When he peeks out again, he’s got a smirk on his face that tells you that the added danger of getting caught is only making him more willing to risk discovery.

Why is he here, then? Well, it’s probably because you’re dating Thomas, or at least you have in secret. Once you showed up to the Glade and became the first girl to add to their numbers, Alby set in motion a rule that none of the boys could even come near you. They could be friends all they wanted, but the second they looked at you with a desire for something more, they’d be thrown in the Slammer before they could say ‘I escaped the friend zone’. 

You’ve been perfectly fine with this rule. There are enough gaping boys in the Glade that make you more than alright that Alby gives any flirting slintheads a death glare. However, when Thomas showed up, you just couldn’t stick to the plan. He was kind to you, and it seemed like he was the first one to truly listen to you for a very long time. When you spoke about anything, when you even so much as sat next to him, Thomas would look at you with this soft smile that made you want to reach over and kiss him right then and there.

You’d been afraid to do something, at first. What if you misread something and suddenly it was you crossing his boundaries as opposed to any one of the Gladers with you? Then, one night at the Bonfire, Thomas had been walking you back to the Homestead when he’d turned to you with this look in your eyes, one that made you shiver slightly despite the heat of the dark hour. He’d asked if he could kiss you, voice low and rumbling in the shadows, and you’d barely been able to nod your head yes from the thrill of it.

Ever since then, you’ve been happy enough to consider him your boyfriend. The problem is that Thomas still technically isn’t supposed to be seeing you, and the only way you can kiss him is if the two of you sneak out to the Deadheads or find time when nobody is around to reach over and wrap your arms around him. These come with an unsurprising rarity, as the Glade is practically overrun with shanks with little to no concept of personal space and privacy, so you have to make do with what you have.

This means that on days like today, when Thomas had been held back from seeing you even into the late hours of the night, he’s willing to stretch some rules and come find you himself. So, you turn to a still unsuspecting Minho, and gesture for him to go forward without you. “Tell you what, I’m going to fix my shoe. I think there’s something in it.” Minho starts to say something about how he’ll wait for you, but you hurriedly wave his concerns away. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. You go ahead and I’ll catch up.”

Minho hesitates one last moment then shrugs, turning to keep running. You watch him go, afraid to make the slightest of motions towards the general area behind you where you spotted Thomas, lest your running partner suspect something and come back to you. Minho’s just disappeared around a corner when a pair of hands descend on your hips, spinning around to come face to face with Thomas, who’s wearing a particularly proud grin at the look of surprise on your face.

You reach forward to smack his arm. “Slinthead. I thought a Griever was sneaking up behind me.” Thomas just laughs. “I don’t think Grievers look this good.” You try to hold back a laugh of your own. “Good to know that your pride hasn’t been hurt by you bending the rules all the time. We could get caught, you know.” Thomas just lifts a shoulder in dismissal. “I’m dating the prettiest girl in the Glade. I’d say that’s worth going behind Alby’s back.”

You fight to keep heat from rising to your cheeks. “The prettiest girl in the Glade? Thomas, I’m the only girl in the Glade.” Thomas smirks. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true. Just accept the compliment, Y/N.” You open your mouth to protest, but you’re effectively silenced when Thomas leans forward to kiss you. Suddenly, all of your complaints are evaporating into the hot air of the Maze.

You allow yourself a few minutes of this before you reluctantly bid Thomas farewell. Despite being able to throw Minho off your tail for a little while, you can only ‘fix your shoe’ for so long before the boy starts to suspect something. When Thomas finally lets you go with a goodbye kiss and you jog down the labyrinthine corridors in search of your running partner, you do so with a smile. How’d you get this lucky?

You find Minho after a little while, who offers up a few joking criticisms about how long it takes you to tie your shoes. You bear these with a smile, knowing that your real reason for being late is something that far outweighs any of Minho’s sarcastic comments. The two of you run for a little longer before heading further into the center of the Maze. It is only there, once you’re as far away from the Glade as you could possibly be, that you realize that something is wrong. It feels as if you’re suddenly not alone, that you and Minho aren’t the only ones lurking in these corridors.

Seconds later, something heavy comes to an abrupt stop in front of you. You and Minho rear back in identical shock, staring at the Griever, the one that’s just jumped down from the walls of the Maze to land a few feet ahead of you. You gaze at it unthinkingly, unable to move a muscle despite all of your body screaming for you to run. “How is it here? I thought Grievers weren’t supposed to come out during the day!”

Minho gulps beside you. “They’re not, but this one’s here anyway. Run!” That’s all the incentive you need for your legs to start working again, and the two of you turn and sprint in unison. Your feet are pounding down the ground, your body focused on the sole goal of surviving. You thought you were tired before, but all of that exhaustion is gone now, replaced by an intense adrenaline rush that leaves you feeling as if you’ve got all the energy in the world.

You race around corners and down straightaways, your breath coming hard in your chest. Despite the fact that you’re running as fast as you can, you almost get the feeling that the Griever is toying with you, not going after you with as much force as it could truly muster. Indeed, once you’re almost to the final corridors separating you and the Glade, it seems to draw back, disappearing into the halls of the Maze once more.

You turn to Minho, gasping for breath after your abrupt sprint. “What was that about? Why did it stop?” Minho shrugs, hands on his knees for any kind of support. “I don’t know. Maybe it wanted to stop us from going too far. Maybe we were going to see something that it didn’t want us to see. All I know is that I’m pretty shucking happy that we’re still alive.” You manage to limp over to him, slapping him on the back. “You can say that again. Let’s go tell Alby that we’re the two unluckiest shanks in the Glade to stumble upon a Griever in the middle of the day.”

Alby is, unsurprisingly, stunned by this news. This contradicts everything you’ve thought of the Grievers and the Maze before today. No matter how strange your living situation in the Maze is, the rules have never changed- Grievers come out during the night, and the night only. No one has any idea what to think now that this has changed, and to be honest, no one really wants to think about what happened. In the end, Alby decides that there’s nothing you can do about it except tell everybody to be careful.

As a result of this, you see a lot of somber faces around the Glade that afternoon. Everyone’s clustered into tight groups, talking in hushed voices about obviously critical topics that no doubt revolve around your little Griever incident. When Thomas comes back from his run in the Maze, you see his face fall in an instant when he hears what happened. He starts to come your way, expression twisted with concern, but you shake your head once. Technically, you’re not supposed to know Thomas that well at all. Let Newt handle him- despite everything, you still can’t blow your cover and reveal to everyone that you’re dating.

Still, the anxious mood persists around the Gladers. Gally eventually gives in and asks Alby for a Bonfire Night, which the older boy approves. This is basically just an excuse to light things on fire and pass around Gally’s suspicious brew, but everyone’s so keyed up over what just happened that Alby decides everyone needs a night to have fun. Once the glasses of amber liquid start getting passed around, though, you begin to think that it might not have been such a good idea after all.

Once fear mixes with Gally’s concoction, people start getting louder, their friendly punches in the fighting ring less charming and more antagonistic. You decide to leave early, already tired of the signs pointing to the fact that this night will not be going well. However, you’re barely taken a few steps away from your seat before one of the more drunk Builders stops you in your tracks.

“Where are you going, Y/N? Running away again?” You raise an eyebrow. “Excuse me?” The Builder scoffs. “We all know what happened with the Griever. You saw it and ran away. Big bunch of nothing for someone who’s supposed to be one of the bravest Runners we’ve got.” You fold your arms over your chest incredulously. “Then feel free to take my job. I’m sure all of your experience stacking bricks will help you deal with a monster as tall as a house.”

The Builder’s smug smile drops. “Are you calling me a coward?” You snort. “I’m calling you weak. Get out of my way, I don’t want to deal with you tonight.” You move to walk past him, but the Builder just shifts to block your way again. “Like shuck. You don’t get to call me weak.” You stare back at him, feeling anger starting to rise up in your chest. “And you don’t get to call me a coward. You wouldn’t know bravery if it hit you over the head.”

This is probably a bad idea, you know that. This thought is proven correct when the Builder’s hand moves in a blur across your field of vision, and seconds later, your hand is coming away from your nose. There’s a streak of red across your fingers that tells you that he’s hit you hard, harder than he should have for what was supposed to be a friendly bonfire night.

Already, there are outraged shouts coming from around you, Gladers already starting to come to your defense. The loudest one, though, is from the boy who’s already by your side. Somehow, you’re not surprised that Thomas is already here. He probably would have punched the guy already, were it not for the fact that Minho and Newt both are holding him back. “Don’t you dare hit her. Don’t you dare.”

The Builder chuckles, although you can tell that he’s afraid. “What are you going to do? Hit me? We’ll just be together in the Slammer.” Thomas stops fighting against Minho and Newt, fixing the Builder with a death glare that makes the boy flinch. “You wish. Were it not for the fact that I actually give a damn about what’s supposed to happen around here, you’d be on the ground, trust me.”

The Builder raises an eyebrow, trying to add to his tough-guy demeanor in the hopes that it’ll cover up for the fact that he’s slowly trying to back away. “What do you care about what I do? This doesn’t concern you.” Thomas takes a step forward, and the Builder practically shrinks back. “Actually, it does. Y/N’s braver than you could ever dream of being. Do you know what it’s like to come face to face with a Griever? The fact that she’s not dead should tell you something about how tough she is. And yes, this does concern me, because she’s my girlfriend.”

Silence falls around the Bonfire at Thomas’ words. He glances over at you now, realizing what he’s said. “Surprise.” You laugh in spite of yourself. “Well, it was going to come out eventually.” You reach over, slinging your arm around his shoulder. “Come on, let’s let Alby deal with this slinthead. We’ve got better things to do.” Thomas allows himself a grin, moving away with you. “That we do.”

maze runner tag list: secret bestie @underc0vercryptid​, @ellobruv​

[bearseungmin]

[ glistening. ] — his different world finally pulls you into it. but when sparkles from his own body collect on yours, jeongin can't get enough of how you look. 

rating: mature! pairing: siren! jeongin x human! gender-neutral! reader  genre: siren! au, smut, supernatural word count: 1.3k [warnings]: mature content, sexual content, marking kink, intercourse in water, slight possessiveness, unprotected sex please note!: this drabble was originally from my main writing blog, but i have taken it and re-vamped it (much like minho's kinktober drabble) because it fits the theme! do not interact with this if you are under 18.

— kinktober 2021 masterlist

The cavern was welcoming, the moon outside breaking through the cracks in the rocks. A pool of water in the middle of the space, Jeongin’s eyes settled on the one place he felt safest. Now welcoming in you—the person that has his heart. Your body thumped with wonder at just how the situation would pan out, blue light from the moon hitting the rushing sea allowing you to see the secret he hid from you for so long.

His head turned towards you, eyes pleading and leery as his hand rose over the pool of salted water around him. Foam from the constantly moving waters outside of the cave sweltered in, covering his lower half and what you anticipated since he asked you to join him here. “Are you sure about this?” His voice nearly stuttered at your hesitated but significant nod. “What will it change?”

“Absolutely nothing.” You breathed out, almost laughing at how blown his pupils had grown.

The man’s eyes shut tight, frame lining up just before the edge of the rocks. Bracing himself, his body swayed through the foam in the blink of an eye, a line drawn where his tail dragged through it and followed him down. Diving deeper into the heated water, his body seemed to submerge so far in that your human sight could no longer see him: but his bright tail shimmered in the moonlight.

You stood in astonishment, the things he told you ringing in your mind. Scales, fins, and gills—the basin igniting with steamed water had you bending your knees to get a closer look. Jeongin's body didn't quite need the oxygen he sucked in as he came back up from the water, sight of your stunned form making him blink innocently. Finding the time of the moon at its peak to be the perfect moment of fulfillment, you could only release a heavy sigh of relief.

"You called it a curse." The moving water splashed against the rocks before it halted in one abrupt motion, cooling and returning to the turquoise color it was originally before he delved down deep.

His tail was illuminated, the abraded black and colored scales flaring from the salty water startling you but gifting you chills that would bring him in closer to you.

Even in the darkness of the cave you could see the ridges on his sides, his abdomen carved with the ripples of a fish. Dark hair floating with the water as only his eyes poked out from the warm liquid all around him, you tilted your head at him.

"But I only see you.” Voice faulted, his smile gleamed in the blue moonlight. His head lifted for the water line to be at his chin, mouth opening as his teeth clamped down on his tongue. “I'm just—curious.”

“Do you want to touch me?”

Your eyes grew wide at his question, his innocent eyes paired with his gleaming smirk causing a spark to rush through your limbs. The anxious feeling boiling in your gut was enough to have his torso leaning him forward, a single pulse of his tail bringing him to the edge of the rocks where you sat. He blinked gently up at you, the sparkles along his skin telling that he wasn’t exactly human beneath the moon and within the ocean waters—but he was still himself.

His hands lifted from the water, small drops still holding onto his plump skin as the air blew against the limb. His palms met the back of your shoes to pull them and your socks off. Tossing them to the side, as he smiled up at you. Hand cupping and grabbing at your ankles, he lunged you forward, chest pressed against your knees.

Hands still trapping your ankles, his hold swiveled around to the front of your legs, palms hot against your skin. You moved so slowly, raising your hand into the air like a touch to the man would make him turn to dust. His eyes rolled, smirk becoming more extravagant. He had touched you in more ways than one, balanced by your own needs, and here you were—too afraid to even place a finger on his skin.

“Wh-What if-” you stuttered. “What if I rub off some of the sparkles? Will it hurt—like when you rub a lizard too hard or something?”

“Not at all.” He cackled with the tone of his voice getting deeper, a delightful smile on his lips. Curtain bangs falling over his eyes, his fingers surged into the long locks, pressing them back against his head as the salt of the water adhered the strands to his mane. “Just touch me. I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do.” You whispered beneath your breath. The man tapped at your knee for you to get your mind out of the gutter, his own eyes clouded with lust as your palm met his cheek.

“See—no harm done.” He breathed out slowly, sides growing skinny with the intake before his cooled breath fanned your thighs.

You laughed gently, running the pad of your thumb across his face. Your eyes squinted, pulling your hand back to see the amount of glitter that had transferred from his skin to your own.

All while you were distracted, his large hands against your skin made his sight capture something wondrous and new to him.

His eyes wondered the exposed limbs of your form, pupils narrowed at the small specks cascading your skin. A marking on himself from the fabrics of the sea, crystals from rocks broken down by the salt that helped create a shine to his scales now left the pattern on your own body. The moonlight only gave them more power, skin reflecting in all directions from the access on his scales now collected on your skin. Each limb now shined just like himself, almost making you appear the same as him.

Hands toying with your ankles, your thighs were aligned with his face, his grasp leaving your lower legs to hold onto your outer thighs. Without missing a beat, you already knew what he was up to—the man enclosing his glistening face with your legs as he breathed you in. His tail lightly thrashed underneath the water, the bubbles regaining as his eyes peered up at you through his long lashes, an innocent look on his face.

"The look of me on you," You watched his eyes darken with the dullness in his voice, too captured by your body now to notice how tense his body had grown. "—I want it to stay there."

The jagged rocks all around didn't give him any discomfort as he rushed from the water and pulled you in, two-legged limbs returning to his form as his lower-half fell just where he wanted you. "To never wash away."

Arousal growing and tension tightening, it didn't take the science of exchange to tell you that Jeongin seeing the glitter from his own scales on you made him crave you even more. It had never wandered in his mind, and as you felt him press a kiss to your neck as you nodded frantically at the feeling of his head at your entrance—it was only relief filling you to feel him stretching your walls.

Your chest rose with every heavy pant, his pull and push of short thrusts only helping the specks of his skin rub onto your skin more. Gasping at his strong hold, his hips pressed against yours as you felt him deep within you.

"If I make you cum—" He sucked in another unnecessary breath, chills growing across your skin making him throb inside of you. "—will you promise not to wash any of it off for a while?"

The blue light had become blinding, his cock held within you as it swelled and bucked with his uncontrolled hips making your body beg for a release. Water thrashing with every small movement, the rough panting of your breaths made it harder to hear your own response. His wet hair had dried slightly, short waves to the locks as your fingers ran through them, arms clinging to his shoulders for support in the hot water.

"Depends on if we do this again—outside of the water so they really stick."

© copyright bearseungmin 2021. all rights are reserved. do not modify, repost, or translate without my permission. please.

[timextoxhajima]

made up fic title — flames of wealth

♚ title: flames of wealth

♚ member: skz lee know

♚ wc: 898 words

♚ warnings: suggestive material, mentions of death [violence/gore]

♚ synopsis: "don’t get in the way of what’s mine.”

♚ send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it [closed]

“5 1 0 8″

minho turns to look at you, the greed in his eyes the source of his spark. there’s a smirk plastered to his lips, like it had been sewn on. the door of the safe beeps open, and in it sat the most expensive ruby in the world. 

the blood-red crystal glimmers under the amber lighting of the room, and if you looked close enough, you could see your own crooked reflections in its lines. minho tosses it into the air for good measure as if it were a toy, and you catch it mid-air, eyes glaring at him. 

pushing his shoulders so he’s back facing you, you pull the zipper of his bag around his shoulders open. “you can do that all you want when we’re out of here.”

you pat the bag after zipping it, even bothering to close the safe as minho stretches his neck to the side, cracking a bone somewhere. 

“oh, but i have better things to do when we’re out of here,” he reaches for a belt loop around your waist, carefully pulling you in. his hair is the shade of cracking fire, and it matches the setting sun behind him, beyond the edge of the yacht.

“we didn’t come to raid this yacht just for you to do this, lee minho,” jabbing a finger into his chest, your gaze rises from his lips to his dark, gleaming orbs. 

“i’ll do whatever i want to do,” refusing you a chance to retort, he tilts his head and shoves his lips between yours. a soft moan exits your throat, against your will, and you can feel his lips curl up into a devious smile.

but this adrenaline-charged kiss doesn’t last long, for shouts and footsteps are heard rushing to the main room - the room you were in. 

minho abruptly pulls away, stretching an arm out to hide you behind him, his free arm pulling out the pistol from under his shirt and making two exact headshots. the walls along the corridors are coated in redness, trickling down to stain the carpet. 

“they are definitely going to hear that,” your fingers are tightly wrapped around his forearm, pistol still aimed at the entrance to the room. an alarm goes off somewhere, and the pa system cackles.

“attention: we have intruders on board in the main room.”

“then i guess that’s our cue,” he turns to side-eye you. grabbing your arm, he pushes you infront of him, gently coaxing you to run down the corridor and up to the deck.

the water all around the yacht is a gorgeous mixture of red and orange as the sun sets along the horizon. the sharp ring of the alarm is still echoing in your head, but the picturesque view was enough to provide you some bliss for a moment. minho leaves you by the edge of the deck next to the ladder leading down to the boardwalk, picking up two canisters he had left prior. 

the choking scent of kerosene starts to tear your attention away from the sun and back to spillage he’s leaving all over the deck, the brown of the flooring turning darker as it absorbs the fuel.

“stop right there-”

gunshot.

a heavy weight thuds to the floor, and minho backs up into your view as he makes another shot. 

“lighter!” he yells at you. fumbling your pockets, you’re surprised you’re not sweating. it’s almost fun, and you’re only lucky you’re doing this with him.

pulling out the device from your pocket, you toss it into the air, and it lands right... in. his. palm. 

you can hear footsteps stumble to an abrupt halt before him, and even from the side, you can see his smile in all of its glory.

“put the lighter down. we’ll give you anything you want, just give us back-”

“nah.”

he shakes his head, and flicks the top of the lighter open, and drops it into a puddle of kerosene trailing to where your vision is blocked. the fire whooshes to life as minho turns on his heels, running in your direction as the orange flames rise into the air.

dashing across the length of the boardwalk, the yacht starts to pop in specific areas - well, mainly the engine. screams echo in the distance as guards throw themselves off deck, and the shelter of the top bunk starts to cave in on itself. 

your heart is racing, eyes filled with fiery satisfaction with the weight you can see in minho’s bag. he runs as fast as his legs can carry him, and seeing the wide cheshire grin on his face does nothing but motivate you to chase after him like it was a game of hide and seek. 

“news today: just this evening, two raiders invaded the crest. this has been the third strike by the crew this week, and this time, they have successfully stolen the blood-ruby. governments are now in emergency meetings to place national treasures in higher, better security. the crew is an international team comprising of raiders from all over the world that have been reported to be stealing national treasures and priceless items from tycoons. countries like germany, russia, india, and korea have reported multiple incidences of paintings, artefacts and even fossils being stolen.”

“is this an act against capitalism, or is this an act of savagery?”

[mf-despair-queen]

Doctor, Doctor - Thomas

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Thomas/Reader

Word Count: 10,229

Summary: Thomas cares about your health. And with that, he cares enough to give you a healthy dose of Vitamin D when you ask for Doctor Thomas’ prognosis. 

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Really poorly done Role Playing, Oral (both receiving), Sexy Finger Sucking, Doggy, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Choking, Dirty Talk, Side Sex, Over stimulation, Bondage, Daddy Kink, Teasing

Notes: A belated birthday fic for my favorite Cubs fan in the world, Julia aka @savage-stilinski. I hope you enjoy your man in all his fine glory. Note, this ALMOST could read as a sequel to Infected but it is a separate, standalone story.  

The gentle sound of the waves splashing against the sand outside lulled you from your sleep, blinking tired eyes open slowly. The chilled air made you shiver and curl more into the blankets, huddling into the warm body that slept peacefully beside you. The scent of bacon blended with the salty air, a hint of greenery hovering through the air. A roaring gurgle met your ears, earning a sigh from your lips. The last thing you wanted was to leave the comfort of the bed, but food was calling.

“Tommy, breakfast,” you murmured, nudging the deadweight body beside you. The man shifted, his arm resting on his stomach and his head lolled to the side on his pillow. His pale pink lips parted with his steady breaths and a small bit of drool dribbling down his chin, caramel orbs hidden behind his eyelids. Chocolate locks were spiked in random directions, splayed wildly on his head. It screamed of sleep, having been tousled restlessly from the pillow he slept on. The blanket had been stolen through the night by you, a small fraction left to cover his lower half, leaving his bare torso to rise and fall without shelter. Even in the coldest nights, Thomas was a furnace, providing you warmth and comfort. “Thomas, breakfast.”

You heard his faint mumble, unable to discern his words. With a huff, you rolled out of the bed, taking the blanket with you. Thomas didn’t seem to care, only rolling onto his stomach, hugging your pillow to his chest. Without waiting for the man to wake up, you grabbed your clothes for the day, changing in the bathroom to head out. Your baggy pajamas were discarded in a pile and swapped for a comfortable tank top and jeans, your boots on your feet. Thomas was left with a single kiss to the forehead that made him smile in his sleep, hugging the pillow more.

The walk through the Safe Haven was refreshing, people up and working already, though the sun had barely arisen over the mountains in the east. Waves were shared by the occupants of paradise, smiles growing on their faces. It made you smile in return, kicking off your boots to walk through the oceanic waves that frothed against the sand on your way to the kitchens. The water was cold and the breeze was calming, making your hair float around your form in billows. The low chatter around you made your heart thud with joy, the blue sky above your head a change from the destroyed world you were used to for so long. Even if you had been safe from the cruelties of the world for weeks now, every day still felt new.

Frypan greeted you with a plate of eggs, toast and bacon when you walked into the kitchen. The eggs were sunny side up and the bacon made a smile. The plate was happiness incarnate held in the palms of your hands. A giggle left your lips, thanking the former glade’s cook, finding the friends you spent years with at your normal table. Minho was trying to steal Brenda’s bacon, the short haired girl swatting his hand away and jabbing a fist in his side. Newt shifted uncomfortable across from them, scratching at his bandaged torso as he ate his toast.

“Stop scratching it. It’s healing,” you scolded, planting yourself beside the Brit. Your long time friend glowered at you from the corner of his eye, sipping his juice. “Don’t give me that look. You should be glad that stab didn’t kill you!”

“I should be dead though,” he whispered dejectedly.

“No. No negativity, Newt,” you huffed, waving your bacon at him. “You are safe. You aren’t infected. Thomas was able to give you the cure because Teresa made enough. You aren’t dead. You are here with us. And we are glad you are.”

“I know. I’m glad I’m here too,” he said, giving you a side hug. “And you are too.”

“Love you, Newtie.”

“Love you, Y/N.”

“You guys are a load of depression,” Minho cut in, specks of bacon flying from his mouth. You grimaced in disgust, shaking your head. “We are in the Safe Haven. You have no Flare virus. We are all together.”

“I just said that, Minho,” you huffed.

“I just said it better.”

“You guys are children,” Brenda sighed.

“Enough of that,” Newt chuckled. “Where is your other half, Y/N?”

“Tommy?” you clarified, the three nodding. “Sleeping, of course. I tried to wake him up for breakfast, but he wouldn’t wake up. So, I left him. I’m not missing out on food because my lump of a boyfriend wouldn’t get out of bed.”

“So, how long before he flies through that door and drags you away?” Newt chuckled, making your brow rise.

“What? He wouldn’t-”

“Yeah, he will,” Minho confirmed.

“No!”

“Yeah,” Brenda reiterated.

“Oh, my god, guys. Thomas is not going to run through that door screaming-”

“Y/N!”

“Fuck me.”

Thomas stormed through the kitchen, all eyes on the flustered man. He was panting and sweating, his hair still untame from rest. His eyes were wide and slightly red to match his face. Panic was laced on every feature on his face, the distressed look he gave as he approached making you frown. His clothes were wrinkled, his sweats hanging low on his hips, unchanged after he awoke, and a blue henley on his body. He had obviously through the clothes on before rushing out of the tiny hut you called home. Even his boots were still untied.

“You’re ok,” he breathed, running a veiny hand through his hair. You moved so he could collapse beside you, his head in your shoulder. “I was so worried when I woke up and you weren’t there. I didn’t know where you went or if you were safe.”

“I’m fine, Tommy.”

“But something could have happened!” he scolded. “You should have woken me up before you left.”

“I tried-”

“We need to head home and make sure you are ok, baby.”

You huffed. Thomas was the sweetest man you could ever wish to date. Since meeting him in the Glade, he had cared for you like nothing else. He protected you, he supported you, and he loved you. You loved him back. His strength of heart and willful spirit lured you in, keeping you trapped. You wanted nothing else than to be by his side through everything, especially now that you were free from WICKED’s clawed grasp.

However, ever since he woke up after getting shot by Janson, he had been on your case twenty-four-seven. You had gotten infected through the airborne virus since you were unknowingly not immune. Thomas was devastated, but he was determined to find you a cure. In his hand when you helped pull him into the berg were two vials of serum that he mumbled were the cure before passing out from blood loss. It saved you and Newt, who was barely clinging to life between a stab to the chest and his infection.

Now that he was awake from his gunshot wound that was almost completely healed, he wanted to make sure the cure was, indeed, a cure. Every day, he took it upon himself to check your vitals, testing to see if the virus had somehow returned and he was at risk of losing you yet again. At least three times a day, you would hear the words ‘How are you feeling?’ fall from his mouth before a hand pressed to your forehead.

Honestly, his caring nature and the need to make sure you were safe was a mixture of emotions. It was caring and made you fuzzy inside, knowing that he was worried and wanted you to be safe. But, it was irksome.

“Why don’t you ever dote on Newt?” you asked the man, taking a bite of your eggs. “He was infected too, you know!”

“He isn’t my girlfriend and the love of my life,” Thomas told you. You giggled when Newt feigned heartbreak. “Besides, he has Minho to dote on him!”

“But Minho doesn’t give a rat’s ass because Newt is perfectly healthy! There are no signs of the Flare!”

“This is accurate,” Minho teased.

“That is besides the point,” Thomas argued, taking your hand. “We have to get you checked on.”

“But, my bacon-” you cried, getting dragged off. You whimpered sadly whe of your bacon, giving you a wink from afar. “I love you, Thomas. But you’re going to drive me insane.”

“Less talking, more making sure you are ok.”

“You owe me bacon, asshole.”

It wasn’t until nightfall that you could sneak away. Thomas had kept you close since your abrupt disappearance from your calling for food until Vince requested his help on some building plans. Thomas was always helping Vince plan, and you were proud of him for assuming such a leadership role, but he expected you to stay in bed.

Ha. Nope.

You wandered down to the beach, seeing the flames of a fire flickering in the distance. It was normal that her friends would make a small bonfire on the beach to relax after a long day, and that’s exactly where they were now. The former gladers were sat around the fire, joined in part by Brenda and a few friends from Maze B, drinking Gally’s special drink he whipped up. Newt was the first to see you approaching, grabbing you a jar with the pale yellow liquid.

“Finally escape Doctor Thomas?” he joked. You glared at him while collapsing in the sand, sipping the bitterly strong drink.

“Not funny.”

“It kind of is,” Minho laughed. He received a swift boot to the head, the runner groaning.

“It’s not! I spent all day by his side because he didn’t want me running off again,” you sneered. “He literally expected me to stay in bed all day and not do anything.”

“Aw, Doctor Thomas taking care of you,” Minho poked.

“He’s always checking on his patient,” Aris laughed.

“Does he ask what level of pain you are? Then you can make a face to express it. Like this,” Frypan joke, making a pained, strained face.

“He always checking your temperature, tucking you into bed before feeding you some soup,” Brenda laughed.

“Guys, it’s not funny,” you seethed. “Trust me. I love Thomas so fucking much. He means the world to me. He makes me so happy and I’m glad I can be here with him today. I shouldn’t be here because of the Flare and he made it possible to live. He’s the best man I have ever met, no offense guys.” You glanced at the guy gladers who shrugged. “I feel special with him and I look up to him.

“But, he’s driving me insane. Every day is the same. I love that he cares and I love knowing that he wants me to be safe. But, he’s so worried that I’m going to be sick again that he’s going overboard. I’m suffocating under him because he just… ugh!” You fell back on the sand, arms spread wide. “I hate him. I hate him. I hate him! Why does my boyfriend have to care so much?!”

“Because he loves you?”

“That was rhetorical, Minho!” you growled, throwing sand his way. “I know he does! But, I just need him to calm down! I’m not on the verge of death and he’s treating me like some fragile baby bird that isn’t ready to leave the nest. I am losing my mind because he’s always there to make sure I’m not sick. I love his compassion but I hate his compassion!”

“That’s… redundant.”

You blinked, standing from your spot. “Come here, Minho. I’m going to strangle you and you will wish I will have had the Flare because then people won’t question why your body is scattered across the beach!”

Brenda held you by the waist, dragging your flailing form away. “Come on. We are going on a walk.”

“I don’t want a walk! I want to kill Minho!”

“Naw. I think she wants Doctor Thomas to give her a prescription,” Minho teased with a wink. “Of his dick!”

Your face was bright red. “You’re dead, Minho. You hear me? DEAD.”

“Walk!” Brenda forced, pushing you down the sandy walkway. Grumbles filled the dark air, your feet trudging away from the group. The drink in your hand was tipped back, sliding down your throat with a burning elegance. Brenda watched you silently, sipping her own drink. “You know, I don’t see what the big deal is. Having Thomas checking up on you like that, playing personal doctor. I’d think you would enjoy that more.”

“It’s frustrating!”

“No,” Brenda laughed. “It’s kind of hot, Y/N. I can only imagine what things he could do to you while playing doctor. And you tell me once that the sex is amazing. Just thinking about what an attractive guy like that could do when he drags you away to make sure you are ok gets me hot.”

“That’s my boyfriend you are talking about, Bren,” you deadpanned.

“I know. But, you can’t tell me you aren’t the least bit aroused by Thomas constantly taking care of you,” she pressed.

“I mean, I guess…”

“Y/N, let me spell this out to you. You have a hot ass man that loves you with all his heart. He is there for you to give you whatever you need. Just think about when he goes to give you your next check up how he strips you down and pleases you all night long.”

“Jesus, Bren!” you screeched, shaking your head in a flustered state. “Stop thinking about this please!”

“What? You guys are hot and I ship it. I’d live to know that he can fuck you like you deserve,” she laughed. Your face turned beet red at her words. “I’m just trying to say this. Why are you complaining about it? I get that it’s annoying because he does it all the time. But, embrace it!”

“Embrace it?” you asked into your drink.

She nodded with a evil grin. “Let Doctor Thomas do his job and give you the treatment you deserve.”

You stared at the girl, mouth parting in surprise. No words came out, your lips sealing together and curling upright. Brenda noticed the smile that grew, bouncing like a kid in a candy store. She nudged your side, wiggling her eyebrows as you walked, divulging the plan you were concocting.

~

The door slammed shut behind Thomas the following evening. He was exhausted, his body sluggish after his long day. His boots were kicked off, a hand running through his hair to feel the sweat that seeped from the top of his head. The sun pounded on him while he built a new hut on the edge of town. The sleeves of his henley were pushed up. The buttons were completely undone, showing off the dark chest hairs that were splayed across his pecs.

“Tommy?” you called from your room, Thomas’ ears perking up. His heart lifted, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. He had miraculously managed to convince you to stay in while he was working, but a small part of him worried since he couldn’t check on you all day. To know you were home, safe and sound, put his nerves at ease. The only thing that could drop it is if you developed the Flare again and were going to Crank out on him the second he walked into the room.

He didn’t need to move forward. He saw the shadow of your form on the wall, hearing your footsteps patter against the ground, stepping out of the room. You stayed near the doorway, leaning on it almost seductively. You appearance made the runner’s heart freeze, his pants growing tighter and his body heat no longer from the setting sun that had scorched his skin.

“Holy…”

You played with the lacy designed robe that did nothing to conceal your body, the mesh design see through. It ended at your mid thigh, the material skimming them as it swayed. Under the black robe was the blue lingerie set he loved the most. The bra pushed your breasts up until they were ready to spill out of the top, almost see through so he could see your breasts clearly. The flowers beautifully decorated your chest, hugging to your skin. The bottoms matched with the flower design, hugging your core and backside in just the right way. A tiny bow was plastered in the middle, acting as a landmark for the center he wanted to be part of.

You bit your lips that were more red than normal - a lip gloss that was salvaged from the ruins of the fallen world outside the Safe Haven making them shimmer. Your eyes were shadowed from some eye make up, the glance from the side of your eye making your eyes clouded with mystery and beauty. Your stance made you look sexy, willingly waiting for him to advance on you. You noticed the man fidget where he stood, keeping from launching himself across the house to ravage you.

“You know,” you started, voice sultry. “I’m not feeling too well. I was wondering if you could give me a proper diagnosis, Doctor Thomas. Help a girl out, please? Your patient is ready.”

Thomas’ normally caramel eyes flashed completely black, taking slow, calculated steps in your direction. You remained where you stood, waiting until he was flesh against you, towering above you in overwhelming glory. His hands cupped your face, thumbs skimming the outline of your jaw, brushing your glimmering lips. The gesture made you mewl, sinking into his touch.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear you aren’t feeling too well, miss,” he played along, the low octave of his voice making it gruff and husky. “Please, tell me all about what is going on. How are you feeling?”

Thomas knocked over the basket of laundry that was on the table just inside the room in search for a pad of old paper and a dying pen. You giggled, tilting your head as he pretended to write. “Well, I have this horrible ache that I can’t seem to get rid of. I’m always hungry for some sausage. And I have all this pent up energy that doesn’t seem to go away. I really need your help, Doctor.”

Thomas glanced up from the paper, biting his lip. “I see. Well, I will need to run some extra tests on you first to make a proper diagnosis.”

He was backing you into the room, your legs hitting the bed in a flash. The pad of paper was tossed into the hallway outside the room, the page having some scribbles that was supposed to resemble words. In the process of walking to the bed, Thomas’ strong hands moved from your face to your hands, moving slowly up your arms to your shoulders. The silky robe you were wearing to cover your lingerie was pushed from your body, melting off your arms into a puddle on the floor. The steps left it forgot and unneeded, your underwear soon to follow.

His luscious lips were attached to yours in a fiery kiss before your back even met the lumpy mattress. The former runner laid on his side, propped up on his elbow to hover over you as you laid back completely. The kiss was smooth yet messy, lips dragging against each other in a sloppy fashion. His strong hand skimmed against your waist, letting his lips work magic up above. The soft smack of lips against lips filled the small room,open-mouth kisses shared without remorse. Tongues twisted and tangled together, circling each other in blissful silence. His lips commanded every kiss, dictating when he would pull back for air before dipping back down for another greedy intake. Teeth occasionally clashed and noses frequently bumped, both of you beginning to get a high from the sensual kisses, his tongue tracing the insides of your cheeks.

Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, struggling to tug it up and off of him between kisses. He sat you both up so you could properly remove it. The fabric peeled from his skin in slow motion, the reveal of his almost pristine skin making your eyes glimmer. The scar of his gunshot was dark in contrast to his somewhat pale skin, his chest and back speckled with dark dots in the form of moles and beauty marks. As the sleeves unraveled from his arms, his biceps were revealed, the henley having concealed the true strength he possessed. Veins ran along his arms, his biceps flexed from the simple bend of an arm. His shoulders tensed and relaxed, pecs with the patch of chest hair you loved jumping slightly. His dark caramel eyes were shadowed when he glanced up at you through his eyelashes, the stare cut short when he resumed watching you remove the fabric from his skin, tossing it aside.

You were pushed back on the bed again with his lips on yours, your hands now free to roam his bare torso. His hands moved strategically down your body - first roaming your chest and giving your breasts a firm squeeze, then tugging your waist a bit closer to him so you were flesh against him, limb to limb, and finally gripping at your backside. The hem of your panties were snapped against your waist, the tender touch of his digits sending shivers up your spine at the same time. He played with the front of your panties, pushing you back on the bed before slipping his hand in your underwear.

The tips grazed your clit, a moan loud muffled by his lips. The faint noise made his finger rub faster and push harder. Your body began to burn from the pressure on your swollen nub, arching into his touch. His lips never broke from yours, only pushing harder against the while rubbing circles to your center. He could feel your shakes and trembles, breathy moans making his throat vibrate. His fingers rubs vigorously to your clit, making you swoon for the man.

Two fingers slid further down, spreading your folds to playfully tease your core. The tips slid in first, toying with your entrance by parting the pussy lips. When they dipped further in, the tips curled, nails beginning to scratch against your walls carefully. It didn’t hurt; it just made your stomach tingle with that sensation you were familiar with when it came to sex with your boyfriend. It fluttered and twisted in all the right ways, a coil slowly swirling itself into a tight knot.

Your lips broke from his when his fingers were knuckle deep inside you, beginning to thrust quickly into you despite the restriction of the panties catching on his hand. Your lips still skimmed his, sharing the occasional kiss as he moved in and out of you, pleasing you relentlessly. When he pulled out, he spread wide, scissoring your entracing until you were exposed to everything and leaking around his fingers and down your thighs. They snapped back together so he could push into you once more, shoving deep enough to find your sweet spot. The touch made you shake, throwing your head back with loud moans. Thomas’ lips trailed down your cheek to your neck, placing kisses on your shoulder. His ears perked up at the squishing sound that came from his powerful thrusts, pursing his lips to keep from grunting.

“Thomas,” you whimpered, clawing your nails down his arms. His biceps flexed under the tips of your fingers, grinning into your shoulder. “More. I’m so close.”

“Do it,” he whispered back, sucking a dark mark to your skin. The pluck of his lips against your shoulder made you quiver, the knot inside you becoming unexplainably tighter. Your back arched off the bed, toes curling into the blankets you were laying on top of. You flailed around for anything to hold onto, settling on Thomas’ free hand, fingers naturally lacing together passionately. Your walls hugged around his digits, trying to keep them inside long enough for you to orgasm.

“Oh god,” you cried, tightening your hold on him. “I’m cumming. I’m cumming!”

“I love the sound of that, baby,” he said, pushing into you harder.

The powerful press of his fingers to your sweet spot, the rake of his nails along your sensitive walls, was the last straw. Your walls crumbled and the knot broke - not just unraveled. It was burned to a crisp in an everlasting flame that smoldering inside you from his touch. Your juices spilled out around him with a screaming moan from your mouth, coating his slender digits and escaping to soak your panties, core and legs.

He pulled out slowly, letting you relax against the bed. He watched your chest heave up and down unevenly, the look of contentment making you glow. His attention was turned to his freed fingers, watching drops of your juices drip slowly along them. They glistened and sparkled, his caramel eyes twinkling mischievously. His thumb pressed to the pointer finger and middle finger he had used to finger you, smearing the juices around seductively. Your eyes, hazy and shadowed, watched him, glued to the way his long, bony fingers rubbed together tauntingly.

Thomas turned to your, adjusting himself against the bed to hover over you better. Your legs tangled together and his chest was hot against your arm, making you sweat. The two wet fingers that were dipped in your sweetness touched your lips, your eyes meeting his dark ones. You questioned him silently, the man grinning.

“I have to check your mouth for any… signs of illness,” he murmured gruffly, trying to sound like the doctor you proclaimed him to be. “Now, baby. Say ahh.”

No hesitation befell you. Your lips parted and your eyes closed, taking the two digits into your mouth. He tasted of your salty sweetness, an odd tang coming from your own arousal. It wasn’t something you often tasted - it only came around if he kissed you after he crawled between your legs. This was much more prominent than you were used to, but you didn’t dismiss it. The digits played between your cheeks, wiggling around while your tongue lapped at the liquid on them. Your throat rumbled with the ahh noise you made for him, your tongue pressing down and the tip extending against his joint.

When his fingers were fully engulfed between your cheeks, knuckle deep while being cleaned, he pulled out slowly. Your lips parted, the pads of his fingers tugging your bottom lip on the way out. Your lips stayed parted, panting slightly. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, tasting the last of yourself that remained from his removal, Thomas grunting in approval.

The runner stood from the bed, fumbling with the button on his jeans. With the pop of it and the zip sliding down, the denim sunk against his hips, showing the black band of his boxer briefs and the deep v-lines that were embedded into his sides. The dark trail of hair disappeared beneath the black band, a noticeable bulge at the end of the path. He seemed to be in a taunting mood, the drop of the jeans down his legs slower than you would prefer. His boxers followed thereafter, the man left bare after an agonizing wait. With the boxers removed, his cock was free, hard, long and girthy. It stuck straight out, pointed in your direction like it was a compass pointing north. The tip was red and swollen, wet with precum. Veins ran along the shaft, disappearing in the curly patch of hair at the base, residing on his groin in a bushy bundle.

He stroked himself slowly, looking down at his cock proudly. A lopsided smile curled on his lips, his dark eyes glowering at you when he peered upwards. “Time to take your temperature, baby.”

The man stood on the side of the bed, watching you twist onto your hands and knees. Eagerly, his tip was taken between your hollowed cheeks, harshly sucking at the head of his cock. Thomas let out an inhuman groan, threading his fingers through your hair, gripping it tight on the back of your head. He stared down at you, hungrily watching you ravish is length with your mouth.

You bobbed along his length, swirling your tongue around the tip and along the pulsating vein on the underside of him. He twitched when you passed over the rough patch on his frenulum, grunting as it slithered down his length. Every inch of him disappeared into your mouth and down your throat, expertly managing the size of him. Your hand moved to caress his balls, fondling them in the palm of your hand. The deeper you slid on his length, the closer you hugged his balls to his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back. The motion inadvertently made him tug on your hair, pushing you closer to his groin. Your nose buried into the hairs at the base of his shaft, eyes watering slightly from how deep he was going. It didn’t stop you from sucking, licking furiously at his length. “Just like that.”

His hand went slack, guiding you to bob ferociously along his length. Your slurped, gagging on his cock. You pulled away with subtle pops, kissing along the length while kissing at it. Thomas groaned, mumbling for more.

But before you could give him more, he pushed you back onto the bed, a squeak leaving your mouth. The man was hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Eyes locked in a passionate connection, his smile curling. “I’m going to administer a quick breast and vaginal exam. Alright?”

“Whatever you need to do, Doctor Thomas.”

Your back arched off the bed, allowing Thomas to strip off the bra you were wearing. His lips attached to the right breast immediately, his hand groping the left in the palm. Much of the skin around the plump bud was taken into his mouth, Thomas happily sucking at your breast. Your hands wove through his dark locks, feeling the soft silk between your fingers. Your hand rest against the back of his head, pushing him closer to your chest.

Your moans didn’t cover the pop that resounded around the room when he pulled back, lips leaving your skin for a single second. He peppered red marks on every inch of your chest, flicking his tongue across your nipple hastily. His hand, wrapped firmly around your other breast, squeezed it, jiggling it between his fingers. When his lips swapped to the other breast to repeat the process, you were seeing stars.

Traveling south, you barely made out the words he spoke against your stomach between kisses. “No lumps. You definitely have some healthy breasts there, ma’am.”

“That’s good,” you mused. “My boyfriend likes them a lot, so it’s good that they are healthy.”

“You should definitely let him keep doing whatever he is doing to them,” Thomas quipped, spreading your legs to kiss at your thighs. “He’s helping keep them healthy.”

“Right,” you laughed, not believing his professional reasoning.

Thomas shook his head, dragging your panties down your legs. You expected him to bury his face in your pussy as soon as you saw the panties fly across the room - and you were half right. He lips were on your core, tongue deep inside you. But, his cock hovered above you, still thick and ready for you. His legs were on either side of your head, his mouth going to town between yours.

His tongue swirled in circles around your core, tracing the tip along your walls. In return, your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft, keeping him steady so you could suck him back. Your head bobbed up and down along his length, going as fast and hard as he was with your pussy. You were growing wet, your taste buds tickled with pleasure and your core slick with your juices that leaked onto his tongue. Thomas was selfish, lapping up every drop you let out in his search for your sweet spot.

You moaned around him when he managed to graze it with the tip of his tongue, vibrating the entire length of him. You were growing weak already, his magical tongue skillfully pleasing you in the ways you always imagined. Your body was tensing and your stomach was coiling, the orgasm you had before making your will weak. His touch made you more sensitive, ready to burst at any second. But you tried to stay strong, stroking and bobbing him just as he licked you, trying to get him to an orgasm he had yet to have.

When your body was wracked with intense quivers, your bobbing growing sluggish and sloppy, Thomas pulled away. His cock was pulled from your mouth with a low whimper from you. Your back, having arched off the bed to shove your body into his, dropped heavily to the bed in defeat, pouting at the former runner. He walked to a pile of objects that had been discarded in the corner of the room, your frown piercing his bare backside. Slowly relaxing, the knot vanishing from inside you, you huffed.

“Seriously?” you asked yourself. Thomas must have heard since he sent you a sideways glance. “Rude much.”

“Sorry, baby,” he breathed, grabbing something from the pile. A rope dangled between his fingers when he turned back to you, the same one you used frequently to do the laundry at your tiny home, stringing up clothes to dry outside. Your brow rose, wondering what he was planning to do with that. “I had to go get ready for your treatment.”

“Oh really?” you asked. Thomas pulled you up into a sitting position, wrapping the rope around your dainty wrists. Tugging it into a knot, the rope didn’t constrict you too tightly to cut off circulation. There was no chance of escape though. If you struggled, your wrists would turn red with raw burn itching them. “Well, what’s the prognosis, doc?”

“You, my dear, are in dire need of cum in your pussy,” he whispered seductively, making you shiver and mewl quietly. “You haven’t had the proper dosage lately and you aren’t feeling well because of it. We don’t want it to get worse, so we will do some emergency treatments to make sure that you are going to be ok.”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Thomas.”

Thomas grinned, settling between your legs. His shaft slid between your folds, making you cry out for him. You were eagerly waiting for him to do something more, but nothing immediate came. “I need to give you a shot now, baby. To give you the proper medicine. It’ll make you feel good. I promise.”

The tip prodded at your entrance before slipping in entirely - and all too slowly. The former runner pushed your legs apart to spread you wide, listening to the moan that erupted from your mouth when he pushed inside you. The sensation didn’t last, Thomas pulling out completely and leaving you whimpering for more. The process was put on repeat, his cock sliding into you so you felt otherworldly before disappearing completely, leaving you void yet wet with desire.

His lips trailed down your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks, chin and nose before colliding with your lips in a short connection. Your tongues tangled shortly, a trail of saliva stringing you together when he pulled away abruptly. Your eyes were glazed over with ecstasy, the emotion dulled because of his inconsistent thrusts. It was kept alive by his plump lips lavishing your face and neck, sucking dark marks that discolored your skin. Each thrust into you vanished before it could do more, teasing you into oblivion.

With a whine and scratch of bound hands along his chest, his cock stayed deep inside you, stilling absolutely. The slow circle of his hips against yours did little to keep the fire inside you burning, praying for more. More pleasure, more moans, more of his hips smacking into yours as he pounding hard into you, more arousal from his fingers to your swollen clit. When he finally pulled back, the feeling was kept low, his thrusts slow and calculated. The ease of his dick sliding out and the gradual push back in made you tremble with desperation. They didn’t hit the spots you knew he was capable of hitting every time he fucked you and the pleasure that came from his enormous member stretching you, filling you to the brim, was lackluster.

“Please,” you whined, scratching at his chest since you couldn’t wrap your arms around his neck as you wished. Brown orbs, darkened from the angle and lust, met yours in a spicy stare, waiting for you to continue - almost as if he was waiting for this exact moment. He knew deep inside what you were going to say and he had been waiting for this exact moment. His calculated movements were intended for this exact second.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked, kissing your lips softly, his slow thrusts never ceasing. “Did the shot hurt? I know you’ve never enjoyed shots.” He was speaking the truth; you hated shots. But this kind of shot was the one you wanted. It just wanted doing it for you. “Or is the medicine working? Do you need more?”

“I need more,” you cried, desperate to cling to him. The binding around your hands kept you from holding him between your arms, hugging him to your chest. “Please, Tommy. I need more.”

“More what?” he asked, pushing you to beg for him more. He wanted to hear you plead. He wanted to hear you cry. He wanted you to ask him for everything you wanted before he pushed so fast and hard into you that you were seeing stars. It killed him, but he waited, pursing his lips into a tight line to keep from smirking. “What do you need from your doctor, baby?”

“More!” you cried loudly, throwing your head back. Your hands left his red, scraped chest, extending above your head. Thomas’ eyes directed to your outstretched chest, your back arching off the bed and pushing into him more. “Please, Tommy. I need to feel you. I need you to go faster and harder until I am screaming your name. I want to feel your thick cock pounding my aching pussy. I want my tits to bounce when you thrust into me relentlessly. God, I need to feel you so bad. This slow moving shit isn’t doing it. The medicine you are giving me isn’t making me feel better. I need more of you. You are my medicine.”

“So, you want more?”

“Yes,” you panted, turning to meet his eye. “I need more, Doctor. I need more of you, daddy.”

“Mmm,” he let out, licking his lips. “Say that again.”

“I need you to pound me hard and fast, Doctor Daddy,” you begged teasingly, Thomas grunting. The name got to him, his hidden attraction for the daddy kink exposed to the confines of your room. “Please, daddy. I want you to fuck me. Have your way with me. Just, please, I beg of you, make me cum.”

“Say it one more time, baby,” came his gruff voice.

“Please, daddy,” you breathed, struggling to take his face in your hands. You did you best, pulling him towards you. Your lips brushed, hot breath hitting each  of your faces. “Please, fuck me. Hard and fast so I scream. Then everyone can know who I love and who is taking care of me.”

You shared a lingering kiss, the touch of your lips so scarce, it felt like a dream. The tingle that was left from his lips on yours was all that remained when he backed away, leaving you to wonder if this was real or fake. It bordered on reality, the sensation making your heart pump harder and your blood flow faster. Only Thomas could make you feel that way from a simple kiss.

The next time he pulled out, he shoved back into you as quick as the pull was. A scream resonated off the walls, a spike of pleasure hitting your system. And it didn’t stop there. His thrusts grew hard and fast, just as you had pleaded. His cock pistoned in and out of you at godly speeds, the clap of your hips growing loud and more frequent as sweat built up between your bodies. His hands held your hips down against the bed, your legs staying parted so he could easily move in and out of you.

“You like that, baby?” he asked, voice low and husky. You moaned in response, squirming against his grip slightly. That noise you made only made his thrusts faster and harder, the man pounding you into the mattress under you. The entire bed squeaked under the weight of your thrusting forms, banging against the wall in a constant ‘thump, thump thump’ that got louder and more frequent as time passed. The stream of his cock thrusting in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot, was marvelous, your sight spotting. “You like me fucking you like this?”

“Yes,” you panted.

“You always love when I push my cock so deep inside you that you can’t breath. You always moan and pant like a dog, begging me to make you cum.” His hand moved from your hip to your chest, fondling a breast in his hand. The other remained bouncing with his countless thrusts, making his mouth water. “I love the way your breasts move when I thrust into you and the way your pussy clings around me. You like the feeling of my big, fat cock between your walls?”

“Yes, daddy,” you squeaked, head thrown back further. “You feel so good, Tommy. Please, don’t stop! Faster, harder!”

He did as you requested - if that were even possible. Your bodies crashed in a noisy array of smacks and claps, the skin on skin contact echoing around the crisp air of the room. It smelled of sweat and sex, a lustful scent ingrained in the wood and sheets around you. Sweat poured from your body from the heated aura of your bodies against one another, making you stick together. Thomas’ wild thrusts hit your g-spot every time he pushed into you like it was a magnet drawn to the source of your pleasure. Each tap made your walls hug around him more, clamping down on every inch of his erect cock that fit inside you, stretching you wide.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing harsh circles to it. He was trying to push you over the edge with the extra stimulation. The nub he pushed against was sensitive, every gentle swipe of the pads against it making you quiver. The subtle distinction of his fingers tracing letters against your arousal, spelling out his name for you to remember for all of time, was ebbed in your mind, your body beginning to writhe against the sheets, getting tangled in them. Your bound hands struggled to tangling through his messy locks, wet with sweat, trying not to smack him in the face in the process. Tugs to the dark tendrils made Thomas release a breathy moan, his adam’s Apple bobbing.

“Oh God, Tommy,” you cried out. The knot in your stomach twisted tightly, clenching almost painfully from holding on to your release. Your limbs were aching and your head was pounding, the pressure of ecstasy weighing down on your body. The coil was urgently ready to unwind, yet it didn’t. It sat like a lump inside you, craving release that couldn’t seem to come. No matter how hard or fast Thomas thrust, how good he made you feel, the orgasm never arrived. His heavy breathing was an indication he was close, but it was growing hard on you. Each pulse of his cock through your walls made you itch with pain. His finger on your clit made you wish he wouldn’t. “Stop. Tommy, stop.”

His thrusts slowed to a stop when he heard your plea, his eyes growing worried. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you panted, relaxing into the bed. The pain was slowly beginning to subside, your limbs going limp. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. “Just… a little much I guess.”

Thomas chuckled, burying his head in your neck. “Guess I pleased you too much, huh?”

“You’re just that good I guess,” you joked.

“So, are you trying to say I gave you too much medicine?” he laughed, making your lips pucker sourly at his joke with the role playing circumstance you had put upon yourselves. “You’re not going to overdose on me, are you?”

“Not this time,” you laughed. “You’re taking good care of me.”

You had a double meaning in your words. In the current situation, you meant that he was making you feel good with the sex. But, you also implied that he took good care of you since curing you from the Flare. Even if he irritated you with the constant home care, you were thankful that he was taking such good care of you.

“I’m glad,” he said, kissing your forehead.

His eyes met yours, the man giving a gentle smile before leaning in to give you a tender, loving kiss. You eased into it, returning the kiss with an equal amount of passion. It wasn’t messy or careless where spit was flying and tongues tangled in messy swirled between your cheeks. It was the simple ones where his lips overtook yours, dragging along them in blissful silence. The quiet smack of your lips pulling apart made your heart race, pushing up for another kiss.

You felt emptiness hit you when he pulled out of you, his lips parting from yours. You felt him smile before he vanished from your view. You were flipped onto your stomach, propped up on shaky hands and knees. His toned body pressed against you, his shaft between your legs in your folds. His hands pushed your hair over your shoulders, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“We’re not done with your treatment though, baby,” he whispered. Kissing your ear, he continued. “You need some more medicine and this time, it’ll work. Just one more shot, alright?”

“Of course, Doctor Thomas.”

Thomas grinned, leaning back on his legs. His shaft slid into you, hearing you moan into the pillows your face was buried in. He pulled out slowly at first, slamming into you furiously. The speed picked up quickly until his hips were slamming into your backside in a noisy clatter. Your butt pushed up and into him, the angle allowing him to push deep inside you until he was hitting your cervix and g-spot. You moaned loudly with every push he did, shaking intensely.

“Thomas!” you screamed, the name muffled. Thomas pouted, his unseen expression displaying how much he wanted to hear you scream his name. So, his hand darted out, finding the hair he pushed aside before, pulling it back just enough so you couldn’t hide. His ears rang with the shrill screams from your mouth, the pout turning upright into a bright grin. His name flowed from your lips repeatedly, something to the effect of ‘fuck me, Thomas’.

“That’s right,” he hummed, smacking your backside with the palm of his hand. It ripped out a louder noise, a bright red hand print glowing against your skin. Thomas grunted in approval, jerking your head back further and placing more loud slaps to your behind. You were quivering under him, his powerful thrusts allowing his cock to piston in and out of you rapidly. Your walls tightened around him, his pulsating increasing and flowing through your walls into your veins. Your stomach clenched, the orgasm you hadn’t gotten before resurfacing - and quickly. “Moan for me, baby. Scream for me. Cum for me. Fuck, tell everyone who is fucking you.”

“Thomas is,” you squealed, tugging at the sheets with your bound hands. “Fuck! Thomas, you feel so good. I’m going to cum!”

“Cum for me,” he gasped, his thrusts getting sloppier. He was close, the knot inside of him constricting just like yours. It was burning, sitting in a fire that was crisping the edges to loosen it, shredding it into pieces. His chest heaved, panting for air as he pushed to an end. “Cum with me, baby.”

“Give me all of my medicine,” you teased. “I’m ready for it.”

The air caught in Thomas’ throat, hitching completely. His thrusts sputtered, letting out a raspy gasp. Your sultry words made the knot vanish, his seed spilling into you. Strings of hot, white juices shot out of the tip with force, filling your insides with warmth. Your walls, tightly hugging his entire shaft, milked the drops out of him, his orgasm long overdue. More of his essence seeped out of him, having built up from every delayed end, ejaculated deep into your womb.

The warmth he gave you, the full feeling you got, made your own knot crack. Your toes curled into the sides of his legs, your legs and arms going weak. Your juices splattered out around him, coating his shaft in arousal. A prolonged moan of his name slid off your tongue, feeling his thrusts slow to ride you both through your highs. Juices combined inside you, mixing together in a sea of salty sweet gold.

You collapsed on your stomach when he pulled out, Thomas falling on your side. His hand ran along your back, rubbing out knots that formed from the countless amounts of sex. He heard your content sigh, smiling to himself. His hand rested to your bum, carefully running his fingers along the stinging skin where his hand prints remained. Playfully, the tips of his fingers slid back between your legs, feeling the wetness of your core that was oozing from your combined juices.

That made him harden.

The heat of his hand left, the man swapping to stroke his length. He was hardening from his half-limp state, elongating and beginning to twitch, ready for another round. His girthy length sat in his palm, skin tugged over the head before resuming it’s normal state. You turned to watch him jerk his cock, preparing himself for a new round of sex. The red tip glared your way, your mouth watering behind seals lips. You loved watching him stroke himself, veins popping from his hand from his strong hold on the length. It glistened slightly from your juices still residing on his skin, the twinkle matching the mischief in his eye.

His tongue passed over his lips, rolling you onto your side. Your back was against his chest, his heart beating heaving against his ribs. A hand slid under your torso, locked around a breast, while the other slid between your legs, gripping your thigh and lifting your leg up. It shook weakly but remained danling in the open air, giving Thomas the perfect space to place his cock at your core. His lips found your ear once more, nipping the lobe.

“Your treatment isn’t over yet,” he huskily muttered. “You are desperately need of some Vitamin D that only I can give you. It’ll keep you happy and healthy.”

“Then what are you waiting for, Doctor Thomas?” you asked, turning your head to kiss his lips. “Give me my treatment. I’m still not feeling so well. Please, Doctor. Make me feel better.”

Thomas groaned incoherently. His cock slid into your tight hole, the tip resting to your g-spot. You moaned loudly, the noisy drawn out with a odd vibration that echoed off the walls. The former runner you called your boyfriend wasted no time, thrusting into you quickly and powerfully. One leg remained flat to the bed while the other bent, his foot pressing into the bed to give him some leverage with his thrusts. Your head fell back against his shoulder from the pleasure he was causing you, tilted enough to see the focused look on his face. His lips were puckered in concentration, but his eyes were loving, staring back into yours.

His face leaned down, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. Your lips parted, your tongue taking control and slipping between his. The man let you control it, pushing harder into you while still focusing on his cock pushing into you at a fast but steady pace. His hips pressed against your butt when he pushed harshly into you, shaft sliding in and out in a slick mess. He was coated in your arousal when he emerged, disappearing back with a swift thrust. His balls, tighter than normal from his prior orgasm, still managed to flounced against your folds. Every thrust into you allowed your leg to bounce up and down through the air like your breasts.

Pulling from the sloppy kiss, he nuzzled into your cheek, kissing it tenderly. “I love you,” he whispered for the first time that night. His fingers lifted from your chest, running through your hair lovingly. Your heart rate picked up, slamming against your ribs. He always managed to make you float away on cloud nine, his declaration of love amanging to pique your own emotions for the man. He was one of a kind and made your life complete. And even if he was deeply dug in your pussy for added bliss, you were in heaven from being in his arms, hearing him mumble those three words.

“I love you too,” you returned, kissing his speckled jawline that had the teeniest bit of scruff growing on it. “Now, please Tommy. Make me cum. Give me that vitamin D. Fuck me fast and hard. Choke me. Pull my hair. Do anything, as long as I cum while you are inside me.”

“That’s hot,” he groaned into your cheek.

Running his fingers one last time through your hair, he placed it on your neck, constricting lightly. It kept your breathing tight, but the lack of one sense amplified the rest. His cock sliding into you felt ten times better, your core clenching around him. The pleasure was intense, flooding your body quickly. Your moans were choppy, your hands trying to grab at anything you could since they were still wrapped together, red from constant struggles. Your nerves were heightened from his neverending thrusts, feeling your stomach tightening once more. His tip hit your sweetest spot, the happiness you got from it making you quiver.

You came first this time. Your walls retracted into him, the knot exploding in fireworks through your system. You moaned - despite how gurgled it came out from the lack of air. Juices washed out around his shaft, your walls clinging to him as you spilled out. Your toes curled through the air, flexing and extending as your high hit. You wished you could have wrapped your arms back around him, scratching and tugging at his body until he was scraped with long red marks that showed your pleasure.

The moisture and heat from your orgasm made him break. His seed shot out of the tip, filling you to the brim in a mixture of your juices. Your body shook while his lurched, each pulse of his cock sending another string into you. His thrusts eased to a stop, the last drops trickling into your system. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, making him twitch. His hand dropped from your throat, both of you relaxing into the other in post orgasm glow.

The ropes were unwound before he pulled out of you, dipping down to kiss your core that seeped of your combined juices. You whimpered from his tender kisses, afraid you would get aroused again. But he carefully kissed any pain away, the taste of you both on his lips. Inching up your body, he left a tasteful kiss to your lips, falling to your side.

His fingers traced to your stomach, drawing random shapes to your bare skin. The other hand was back to running through your hair, your head angled to watch him. His content face had sparkling eyes and a toothy, lopsided smile. Neither of your cared that you were laying in bed naked without a cover. The heat around you was enough to counter the chill that hit you from the sweat on your skin. Your hand lifted to run fingers against his speckled cheek, tracing the constellation of moles on his skin. His hair was sticking up and his chest was still heaving, making his muscled bulge as he tried to relax into a state of normalcy.

“So,” you started, meeting his bright caramel eyes. “What do you recommend, Doctor?”

Thomas chuckled, burying into your shoulder to hide his amusement. You grinned, feeling the love radiating from his pores. “Well, I could write you a prescription,” he started, kissing your shoulder. “But, you definitely need a dose of sex with Doctor Thomas at least once a day until you are feeling better. We don’t want to keep you feeling so wound up and unreleased.”

“What if I never get better?” you challenged playfully.

“Guess you are stuck with me then, huh?” Thomas teased.

“I don’t know if that’s necessarily a bad thing.”

Thomas nodded, taking a deep breath. A silence formed between your both, your hand resting on his on your stomach. You jumped in surprise when he propped up on his elbow staring down at you. “Something has been bugging me this entire time, Y/N,” he stated, making you frown. The use of your name instead of a cute pet name had you worried. “I’m not really complaining because this entire thing was sexy and hot and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I will never forget this and the sex… god, this was the best sex ever. But…”

“But what, Tommy?”

“Why?” he asked. “What was the point in all of this? I highly doubt that it has to do with you just wanting to be kinky and wanting to play doctor and patient. I know you better than that. What are you trying to tell me?”

“Sometimes, I really hate how smart you are,” you laughed bitterly. “WICKED was right to use you, Tommy.”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry,” you sighed. “I… I was just feeling so overwhelmed, Thomas. You know I love you and I always will. I want to be by your side for the rest of my life. But, your constant checking on me like I’m going to suddenly get sick again and die just is stressful. I love knowing that you care but you take it too far. I’m suffocating under your constant care. I know you want me to be ok but I’m not going to up and die randomly. You can relax, babe.”

Thomas’ mouth parted and closed, trying to find the words he wanted to say. His fingers moved to lace with yours, giving it a gentle, comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, rubbing his lips together. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I just wanted to know you were ok. I almost lost you once and I’m scared something will happen and I will lose you for real. I’m afraid I will catch on too late and won’t be able to save you. I’m sorry that I made you feel like that. I really am.”

“It’s fine, Tommy,” you told him, pulling him into a tender kiss. “I know you didn’t mean it. I know you care. Just… lay off a bit. We can arrange something to keep an eye on me since we know I’m not immune. But don’t stress yourself. Don’t drag me off to take my temperature and check for signs of the Flare. Don’t panic and think I will drop dead if I walk through the Safe Haven. Don’t keep me locked up in bed because you want me to be safe in your mind. I will be fine because I have you and the others helping me if I need it. But, definitely, I have you caring for me every step of the way because you love me and I love you.”

“Alright,” he agreed, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop being sorry,” you laughed. “Shit happens. We work it out, Tommy. That’s what a couple does.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“No, I don’t deserve you,” you laughed. “You know, I do have a reason now to see my doctor. I need my medicine, Tommy.”

Thomas’ eyes lit up, a smirk curling on his face. “That’s right. Your prescription,��� he hummed. “What are the chances that by cumming in you, I’m keeping you Flare free?”

“Oh god, Thomas,” you groaned. “I was just implying that we need to have more sex.”

“I know,” he hummed, kissing you softly before moving to straddle you. His shaft, growing harder by the second, slid between your folds. “I need to give you lots of medicine to make sure you are safe. So, let me give that to you.”

“I like that idea,” you mewled, wrapping your arms around his neck like you hadn’t done since you crawled into bed. “Doctor Thomas to the rescue.”

“Damn straight.”

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[runfromreality-archive]

kisses [jong/everyone]

pairings: jongkey, jongtae. jongyu, jongho [read: they’re poly and they all love jong] rating: pg15/r-ish genre: bandfic, fluff length: ~3090 words  

Jonghyun is so tired, he can barely keep his eyes open. His feet are scuffing across the hardwood floor of their dorm as he drags himself into his room for the first time in weeks, ready to collapse onto his mattress and drop off right then and there. Only he doesn’t get quite as far. Because when he passes the living room, he spots an all too familiar figure lazing on the couch from the corner of his eye. “Kibummie,” He calls out, the sound of his name making the younger man abandon the book clutched in his slender hands as he looks up at him.

Kibum is dressed in a similar fashion as Jonghyun himself, a loose tank top and equally wide shorts hardly contrasting with his own oversized t-shirt and boxers. And Jonghyun is so damn exhausted and Kibum’s lap looks really inviting, and he doesn’t even think his next move through. Just plants himself right on top of him with his legs straddling the younger man’s thighs and his arms looped around his neck. “What do you want?” Kibum asks, but he doesn’t seem annoyed about the none too gentle interruption. If anything, he is obviously teasing, the grin on his face making it clear that he already knows exactly what Jonghyun is looking for. “Kiss?” Jonghyun half-slurs, his skin tingling where Kibum has slipped his hands under his shirt to place them on his hips. The younger man has never needed much prompting, so when Jonghyun closes his eyes and leans in the first few inches, Kibum meets him halfway.  Kibum’s kisses are slow today. Much slower than they usually are, his fingers flitting over his skin with a lightness that leaves Jonghyun shuddering, and his tongue licking into his mouth as if trying to memorise every single curve and edge. But even the laziest ones of them never quite lose their demanding quality. Never fail to make it clear to Jonghyun, who is in charge. Kibum nips at his lower lip as if on cue - the sharp flash of pain running through the older man system something akin to approval of the brief thought that had been crossing Jonghyun’s mind. Traps the skin between his teeth and tugs none too gently, because he knows how much it drives Jonghyun crazy. And the soft whine that Jonghyun lets out could easily be read as protest if Kibum didn’t know better. “Kibum,” Jonghyun moans, his voice coming out all soft and breathy. “You’re always like this,” Kibum chuckles, not fazed in the slightest by the pleading look Jonghyun shoots him. “Want me to touch you?” He asks, even though it is very much obvious that the older man craves nothing more than for Kibum to crowd him into the expensive leather of their couch and have his way with him. “Please,” Jonghyun chokes out, and it would be far from enough, usually (Kibum loves to hear him beg. Loves to make him use his words to tell him exactly what he wants). But they are both tired, the adrenaline rush from their concert already having begun to wear off, and neither of them is looking to take their time right now. “Please,” Jonghyun repeats, urging Kibum on as if he needs the younger man’s touch to keep breathing and his oxygen is beginning to wear dangerously thin. And Kibum seems to decide that he’s heard enough begging for the day. Because it’s just a split second later, that the younger man has his hand fisted into Jonghyun’s dark strands and his lips pushed on top of Jonghyun’s.

“Can you not do this here?” The abrupt end of their kiss draws a whine of protest from Jonghyun’s throat, his hands finding purchase on Kibum’s shoulders in an attempt to keep him from moving back any further. “Shut up,” Kibum directs the drawl into the general direction of the doorway. When Jonghyun lifts his head, Minho is standing there, shooting them a look that is part amused and part condescending. And if Jonghyun wasn’t feeling so hot and bothered, he would definitely be able to think of a phenomenal comeback. Something along the lines of ‘You didn’t mind fucking my mouth on here last week, either,’ but then again he’s not that cruel. So he keeps quiet and let’s Kibum tug him off the couch and into his room, his back hitting the younger man’s mattress mere seconds later. He guesses he’s still got plenty of time to get back at Minho some other day. *** It’s nearing five in the evening when Jonghyun wakes up to find Taemin lying halfway on top of him. He is quiet, but very much awake, a feigned look of innocence on his face that’s probably supposed to conceal the fact that he’s been watching him this whole time. And despite his hazy thoughts distorting his memory, Jonghyun is almost certain that he was alone when he dozed off some two hours earlier - nothing but the dark of his room to keep him company. But the again, it isn’t the first time one of the others snuck into his bed while he was off in the land of dreams, so he isn’t even surprised anymore, really. “Good morning,” Taemin jokes, smiling so brightly it’s almost a little blinding. “Morning,” Jonghyun plays along, the flickers of light in the younger man’s eyes making his heart skip a beat. And Jonghyun resists the urge to shake his head at himself, because he can’t believe that even in the drowsy state he is in right now, Taemin is still capable of making him feel all giddy like this. It’s unfair, really.

Letting out a big yawn, Jonghyun stretches his arms above his head, toned muscles flexing beneath his skin and joints cracking loudly. The latter earns him a disapproving frown from the younger man, but Jonghyun doesn’t miss how easily the movement draws in Taemin’s gaze, more sharp and intense than warm now. Jonghyun doesn’t even bother hiding his amusement because the younger man is so predictable. “I want a kiss,” Jonghyun looks up at Taemin through messy bangs, a small pout on his lips that is meant to do nothing less but wind Taemin up that much further. Tease him just a little more. And hopefully earn him exactly what he had been asking for. With the kind of expression that settles over Taemin’s features at the request, it doesn’t seem like Jonghyun will be getting lucky today, though. “You know I don’t like those,” Taemin tells him, his nose wrinkled and his eyebrows furrowed in an all too familiar display of distaste . But at least he doesn’t back off, which Jonghyun counts as quite the achievement, really.  “Yesterday you did,” Jonghyun responds, more playful than anything, because he knows Taemin doesn’t mind. “Yesterday was pretty nice,” The younger man nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he recalls the previous evening - Jonghyun all eager and needy on top of him, chasing his lips as if he couldn’t bear for them to be apart for more than a split second. “I can make it better today,” Jonghyun replies, his voice full of promise, but Taemin isn’t easily fazed. Not when it comes to this, anyway. (And it’s not like Jonghyun had been trying particularly hard to change the younger man’s mind. He just enjoys the teasing.) “Nah,” Hugging Jonghyun closer, Taemin buries his face in the older man’s hair as he announces “I wouldn’t mind sucking you off, though.” Jonghyun rolls his eyes in response, a light chuckle falling from his lips. Because of course Taemin would suggest something like this. And nine times out of ten, Jonghyun would absolutely go along with it. But today, he simply shakes his head. “I’d rather not,” He tells the younger man. The prospect of stepping past the line of innocent cuddling is sounding rather unappealing to him today. “Suit yourself,” Taemin accepts the response with a shrug, shifting a bit to hold Jonghyun more comfortably, and Jonghyun is more than happy to let him. “Here,” Taemin speaks up, and before Jonghyun can even begin to be confused about the random statement, there is a pair of lips pressing against his left cheek. It’s a soft brush more than anything - fleeting and over much too quickly for Jonghyun’s liking - but it makes heat rise into his cheeks either way. “That has to do.” *** “Let’s kiss,” They are in the back of one of their company’s cars when Jonghyun throws the words at the oldest member of their group. It’s a spur of the moment kind of thing, because their manager has just left to pay for the gas - Taemin having tagged along because ’It’s so damn hot, I need ice cream’ - and there is a small line in front of the station counter and he hasn’t kissed Jinki in way too long. At least that’s what an entire week feels like to him. Torturously long. “Right now?” Jinki stares at him with eyes wide as saucers, visibly taken aback, but Jonghyun doesn’t even think about backing down. “Yeah, come on,” He urges, unbuckling his seatbelt and shifting a bit in his spot to face the older man. Jinki keeps looking like a deer caught in headlights, completely frozen to his seat, but when Jonghyun’s hand comes to rest at the back of his neck to guide him closer, he doesn’t make a move to stop him. Jinki’s skin is damp under his fingertips, the summer heat creeping into the car with no effort whatsoever, now that the air conditioning has been switched off, and the older man always needs a bit of time to get into the rhythm of things, no matter how often they do this, but Jonghyun likes it all the same. Loves to sneak his hands into Jinki’s hair and wind his arms around his shoulders and feel his shyness melt away further with every lick of his tongue. So much so that the few innocent pecks he had been hoping for quickly turn into more, one of the older man’s hands moving down to grip at his waist - hard enough to bruise, Jonghyun is sure - while the other finds its way into his hair. Not quite tugging at the dark strands, but keeping a hold just firm enough to stop him from moving away. It’s nice. It isn’t dominant and purposeful like Kibum’s touches usually are, and not teasing like Taemin’s, either - meant to do nothing less but leave Jonghyun begging, for fingers in his mouth and a hand around his throat and everything else making him burn from the inside out. Yet it certainly isn’t gentle like Minho’s touches, either. And it’s really nice.

In the end, they don’t have much time to get too into it, though, the pleasant sting of the grazing of Jinki’s teeth against his lower lip cut off rather abruptly when the front door of the car swings open.  “Don’t mind me,” Taemin comments dryly, his voice cutting through the momentary tension in the air. He is plopping down into the passenger seat without batting an eyelash, obviously uncaring about witnessing his two older group mates on top of each other. When Jonghyun turns to glance at Jinki, however, the older man’s eyes are wide, his entire body stiff with what Jonghyun assumes to be fright, or alarm, or a bit of both. But their manager is still lingering inside the building, appearing to have some heated discussion with the young cashier that involves a lot of wide gesturing and fast talking, so Jonghyun doesn’t see the issue, really.

Giving a dismissive shrug, he moves his hands back to Jinki’s shoulders to steady himself as he leans down with the full intention of picking up where they left off. But with Taemin in the car, Jinki is being so completely unresponsive, he could as well be kissing a wall right now. “He said to not mind him,” Jonghyun reminds his older group mate as he pulls back to raise his eyebrow at him. Jinki still looks positively shellshocked, though, a bright red blush tinting his cheeks, and Jonghyun figures they should probably continue some other time. “Great Taem,” He drawls as he sinks back down on his side of the seat. But the glare he is shooting at the back of the younger man’s head is half-hearted at best, even as he adds, “Did you at least bring some ice cream for us, too?” “I only have two hands, sorry,” Taemin feignes regretfulness, holding up his phone in one and the colourful tub of ice cream in the other. The response makes Jinki snort next to him, appearing to have finally snapped out of his stupor, and Jonghyun feels a smile creeping onto his own lips at the older man’s bright expression. Jinki has always had the most radiant smile and Jonghyun thinks it’s completely breath-taking. It makes him want to drape himself all over him - for a nice, long hug that would be entirely too much for a scorching day like this one. But even more so, it makes him want to kiss Jinki all over again. Press his lips right against the beautiful curve of the older man’s lips and taste his laughter on his tongue. And so that’s exactly what he does, throwing a quick glance into the direction of the gas station before grabbing at the front of Jinki’s graphic tee to pull him closer and daring to steal just one last peck, before the car door opens a second time. *** “Minho,” Jonghyun calls out, an excited wave accompanying his words. There is relief washing over him at the sight of a familiar face amidst empty corridors and the occasional group of backstage staff and he quickly moves to catch up with his younger groupmate, happy to have found someone who is hopefully feeling a little less small and disoriented in here than he does. “This place is huge,” Jonghyun complains, recounting how he had gotten lost on his way back from going outside to call his mum, just because he didn’t care to pay enough attention to the exact path he took. ”It is,” Minho agrees, a smile taking over his face when one of Jonghyun’s hands unconsciously reaches over to link with his “I’m glad they sent Kibum to get our food, cause I’m pretty sure he’s the only one who will find his way back.” “I hope he will,” Jonghyun nods, “Cause I’m freaking starving.” They performed at large venues before, but this has to be one of the absolute biggest of them all. And it doesn’t help that well above ninety percent of the staff speaks English and nothing but English.  And there are so many doorways, too. Corridors with no windows that all look way too much alike to make the task of finding his way around any easier. But it’s quiet, at least. Although that, too, is going to change soon. Because once they hit the stage, it is going to be all hectic and deafening, so Jonghyun only appreciates it more, to have a few moments of calm before he will be thrown right into the buzz of their concert and run on adrenaline for the better part of the night. It kind of makes him want to stay out here for a little longer even. Separated by doors and walls and hallways from the rest of the group and the preparations and all the people bustling about in the less secluded parts of the building. And he has just the perfect idea for how to add a bit of a bump to their journey.

“Hey,” Jonghyun cranes his head to gaze up at the younger man, his steps coming to a halt and his hand slipping down to curl around Minho’s wrist instead. And there is a brief spark of electricity running through Jonghyun’s body when their eyes lock. Minho’s lips are on his before the older man has even gotten around to posing his request to his group mate, his back hitting the wall as Minho cages him against it. It bothers Jonghyun sometimes, how Minho is able to read them all so easily. With him in particular, just one glance - one quick observation of his slightly slumped posture or a minute shift of the light in his eyes - seems to be enough to completely give him away. Seems to reveal to his younger groupmate exactly what’s going on inside of him. But it’s thrilling, too. In moments like this one, especially. It’s incredibly thrilling, to know that Minho sees right through him - that there is no way for him to hide what he wants - and it’s making him feel exposed and vulnerable in the best way possible. He is whining low in his throat when Minho pulls back - breaks the contact between them far too soon and far too swiftly - robbing Jonghyun of the pleasant warmth and the firm chest pressed against his own. Jonghyun doesn’t have the time to protest the loss, however, because it’s Minho who is reaching for his hand this time, a small tug enough to make Jonghyun blindly follow along. “Where are we going?” He asks, curious, the question earning him another fond smile from the younger man. “If you wanna make out for real, we need to find a spot that isn’t smack in the middle of the hallway,” Minho tells him, an uncharacteristic eagerness and impatience in the way he leads Jonghyun into one of the restrooms a few doors to the left. As if he can’t wait to crowd Jonghyun into the wall all over again.

And Jonghyun thinks that he isn’t going to argue with that. He sure as hell isn’t.