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seouljazzbar · 1 month

Text

GO WITH IT

MARK LEE (이민형)

ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it

WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵‍💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending

PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader

WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe

Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.

The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest.

All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.

The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”

Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry.

“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.

Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”

You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”

White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”

A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”

Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”

“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.

“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”

“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”

Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”

“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly you needed to be railed? That was a new one.

The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—

“I’ll fuck you.”

You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.

“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats.

“Mark—”

The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”

“Shouldn’t be what?”

“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”

The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”

Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”

“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”

That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.

Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”

It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.

He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.

“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”

Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…”

“Shouldn’t that be weird?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties.

“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”

“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?”

His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”

“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”

Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”

“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”

“Mark!”

His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”

One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”

Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.

He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”

Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”

His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”

“Mm, don’t be shy.”

Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.

You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.

“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”

It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”

He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.

You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”

“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”

Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”

He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”

You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.

“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.

“I’m, I’m close.”

He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”

“Whyyyy?”

“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”

You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”

But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”

“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”

The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”

“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”

It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?”

It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.

“Fuck.”

You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.

“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.

It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.

He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.

You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”

It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat.

“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”

“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”

All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet.

“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in.

“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.

“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.

Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.” He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.

“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”

“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you.

“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.

Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”

“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.

“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”

He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”

Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains.

“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”

He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”

The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”

“‘m gonna cum again.”

He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”

“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.

“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.

“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.”

He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.

Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed.

You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”

“What time is it?”

He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”

“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”

Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”

“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”

He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”

“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”

He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”

None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.

“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”

#mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #seouljazzbar

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lovelytsunoda · 7 months

Text

give me a kiss (or three) // lando norris

summary: matching clothes shouldn't turn lando on this much.

pairing: lando norris x female reader

warnings: smut, the worst description I have ever written, it’s a lil bit cringe. lando has a nickname for his dick, and a box of flavoured condoms in his bedside drawer. lowkey inspired by an audio posted by the wonderful @2-fast-2-curious. (I took a lot of creative liberties and added a ton of things, but the base idea is still there), there's more laughter than sex in here my dudes-

seeing lando norris wrapped up in the soft pink bedspread should not have warmed her heart the way that it did.

she had slipped out of the bed and ducked across the hallway to use the bathroom, and when she came back, her chest seized at the sight of her lover, his arms wrapped around the massive section of duvet that she was previously buried under.

she never thought she'd see the day, and she never thought she could feel this way about someone who felt the same way back.

she slowly began to dress, careful not to make any noise in the small bedroom. not only would she prefer not to wake her roommates, lando himself was a light sleeper and he needed to be well rested before they went to visit her parents that afternoon.

"sweetheart?" lando mumbled, messy-haired and groggy as he began to surface from underneath the duvet. "its so early, what are you doing awake?"

"i have to run to tescos, and then i have boxing at ten." she smiled softly, tightening the strap on her lacy bralette. "i wanted to let you sleep in. you'll need all your energy for the drive later."

lando snorted, sitting up straight, his curls matted by sleep and sticking to his skin. "there's no way you're wearing a bra that nice to your boxing class."

"i'll change when i get there." she chuckled, leaning in to give him a quick kiss.

the blankets shifted with the movement, falling away from lando's thighs to where his royal blue boxers hugged his skin. the man looked down, and then over to the matching set his girlfriend was wearing before he let out a laugh.

"what's so funny?"

"your bra matches my underwear." lando snickered. "we match. a perfect pair."

she couldn't help but join in with her lovers laughter and mirth, looping her arm's around his neck with a chortle. his skin was warmed against hers, which had rapidly cooled since she had emerged from her blanket huddle and into the winter air that filled her home.

"you're so cringe." she giggled, standing between his legs, the slight shade of difference between their underclothes making her smile.

he was right. they were almost a perfect pair.

"cringe? you think i'm cringe?" lando feigned hurt, squeezing her sides playfully. he kissed her deeply, nipping at her bottom lip as his hands roamed her lower body.

the kiss was passionate, yet playful, smiles evident on both of their faces (even when lando slipped his tongue into her mouth, earning a surprised shout).

"not as cringe as the time-" she stopped midsentence, whining as lando ran his tongue along the sweet spot on her neck before diving back in to kiss her. "you wore the monoply boxers."

"i thought 'wanna go to jail" was a great line!"

"yeah, for a fifteen year old boy!"

"it still worked, didn't it?" lando laughed, grabbing at her thighs to roll them over.

the duvet was soft and pillowy around her, bunched up just enoough around her that it narrowed her field of vision. all that existed in that moment was her and lando.

just the way she liked it. she loved it when they were silly like this, playful and sexy at the same time. an experience that felt so uniquely like the two of them and their love, and ensured that they never got tired of being intimate with each other.

"am i still cringe when i've got your wrists pinned to the bed?" lando smirked, his body a comfortable weight against hers, her wrists cradled against the goose down.

"i dunno." she smiled arching upwards to press her lips against his. "why don't we find out?"

lando grinned at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "i like the way you think, but don't you have to go to boxing?"

"they won't miss me. i'm there three times a week as it is." she smiled, snaking one bare leg around his.

lando's touch was as familiar as her afternoon stretching routine. every brush of his fingertips against her skin made her feel powerful, like she could do anything. his lips were comfortable and warm against hers, yet new and exciting every time. lando's grip on her wrists let up, and she buried her fingers in his curls, tugging softly.

"fuck, babe. i love it when you do that." he moaned, lips dancing over the material of her bralette, tonguing at her peaked nipples.

"i know." she hummed, breath hitching. "oh, i love it when you do that."

"that's my girl." lando hummed, reverence in his eyes and a serene expression on his face as he continued to kiss across her collarbone, throughout the valley between her breasts. "you want my fingers, baby? want me to make you feel good?"

“please.” she keened, arching into him.

landos calloused fingers danced across her thigh, over the cluster of freckles that used to make her feel so insecure but he so dearly loved, reaching for the damp spot on her panties. his touch was feather light, running up and down her slit, barely applying any pressure at all.

“lando.” she breathed, making a show of spreading her legs wider for him.

“I’ve got you, sweet girl.” he hummed, tugging her panties to the side before dipping two fingers in with a moan. “all this for me? you’re so wet, love.”

“only for you.” she moaned, breath hitching as she dug her fingernails into landos shoulder blades, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat off her neck. “oh, baby.”

“such a good girl for me, taking my fingers so well.” he praised, using his free hand to guide her face towards his.

lando kissed her deeply, her hands moving to clutch his hair as his fingers fucked her deeper. every inch of her body was on fire with desire, pleasure pooling in her stomach, her lovers hard cock pressing against her stomach while he finger-fucked her to high heaven.

“oh my god, lando, fuck, I think I’m gonna-“

she didn’t have time to finish that thought before lando pulled his fingers out abruptly, making a show out of licking them off as she whined impatiently at her ruined orgasm.

“what the fuck, dude!”

lando just laughed, kissing her forehead. “payback, sweetheart. you called me cringe, so you don’t get to come.”

“fuck you.”

“I beleive you’re trying to.”

the room went awkwardly silent, so much so that you could hear a pin drop. and then, all at once, they both burst out laughing. the kind of laughter that makes your eyes water, your stomach start to hurt. Lando was laughing so hard that he dropped back onto the bed, bare chest heaving as he looked up at the ceiling.

“why the fuck did I say that?” he cackled.

“I don’t know!” she laughed back. “if it helps, I thought it was cute, and it really made me want to suck your dick.”

“yes, actually. that does help.” landos eyes brightened as she shifted his position, sliding his boxers down his legs. “little lando has missed your pretty face.”

“little lando? god I hate that you have a nickname for your penis.”

“we’ll, if you’re going to insult him like that-“

“shut up.” she breathed, kissing him with a smile. “do we have any of those flavoured condoms left?”

lando grinned. “watermelon or fruit punch?”

she slipped off the bed, foot tangling with the flat sheet as she crouched in front of the bedside table, digging through the drawer for the small red box, searching for the elusive fruit punch condom.

she had never been a fan of giving head. there was something about it that had always just icked her out, but lando made her want to try. she wanted to expand her horizons with him, not for him. it took a lot of trial and error, but they found a way: flavoured condoms. this way, it was more enjoyable for her as well as him. it was akin to a warm ice lolly, rather than a body part.

she deftly ripped the packaging open, sliding the rubber shield onto landos cock. she positioned herself between his legs, taking a few deep breaths before taking his cock in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and running her tongue up and down the shaft.

“oh my god!” lando moaned, resisting the urge to buck his hips. getting blown was always a treat for him, considering that y/n didn’t enjoy it all the time, finding it more stressful than it was worth. but every time she did it, he was reminded just how incredible she was at it.

it was a treat, one that he would savour until the end of time.

he bit his lip to stifle a moan, dropping his hand to the back of her head. he was big in her mouth, weighty against her tongue. she closed her eyes, sucking gently.

“god, you’re so perfect.” lando whined, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumb on the side of her head. “taking me like such a good girl.”

she opened her eyes, chancing a look at the love of her life. she moaned at the sight of his rippling abs, body contorted in pleasure.

all because of her. she did that.

“fucking hell, honey. I think I’m gonna blow.”

lando came with a howl, hips stuttering as he came inside the condom sheath. she slipped off his cock quickly, leaving a trail of saliva behind as she made her way up his body to press a soft kiss to landos lips. using a handful of tissues, he slipped the condom off, balling it up and tossing it in the wastebasket. his breathing was heavy, but he was raring to go for more.

“sit on my cock, babe. ride me, please. I need it.”

she smiled, kissing him again. “now who’s the needy one?”

“shut up. do you want to come on my dick or not?” he joked, tickling her sides.

she playfully pushed him against the headboard before rooting around for another condom (a normal one, this time). she pressed the foil packet into lando's hand before getting to her feet and sliding off her soaked panties. she moved to take off her bra as well, but lando grabbed her arm, stopping her.

"keep it on, gorgeous."

and how could she argue when he was giving her puppy dog eyes?

she sunk down slowly, dramatically playing up her actions with some hair-fluffing and boob-primping. lando laughed underneath her, the sound distracting her from the sting as he stretched her out with his cock.

she shifted slowly at first, moving her hips in slow, torturous circles, biting her lip to stop a moan. her lover groaned, looking up at her with lust and reverence in his eyes.

"comfy?" he quipped, hands gently moving to grip her backside.

"very." she smiled, leaning in to kiss him.

lando wasted no time in guiding her movements, lifting her up and down on his cock like it was no effort at all. her fingernails dug into his shoulders, small pants coming out in quick breaths as she bounced on his length.

"oh my god, lando." she whined. "you feel so good. so good, baby."

"that's my girl." lando hummed, dotting kisses along her collarbone, his hands grabbing fistfuls of her ass. "only i get to see you like this, make you feel this good." he growled "and you're doing so so well for me, love."

if lando were to explain what having sex with his girlfriend was like in two words, he'd probably say coming home. she was his safe haven. they fit together like a glove, always seemed to know what the other needed without saying a word. and if they spent more time laughing than actually having sex, or fi their sex was goofier than it was seductive? that didn't matter to him. all that mattered was that they spent that time together.

just two people in love, showing the other just how much.

every bit of praise made her skin break out in goosebumps. she could feel herself dripping onto lando's thighs, but she didn't care. she just wanted to be close to him. as close as physically possible. she arched inwards, leaning against his chest for support as lando stopped moving her hips, instead thrusting his up rapidly to meet hers, a strangled moan escaping her throat.

"that's it, princess. you don't need to do any of the work. lando's got you." he cooed, pressing kisses to her sweaty forehead, whispering words of praise in between moans and grunts. animalistic sounds that just turned her on even more, pleasure reverberating throughout her body.

her slender fingers came up to tangle in his hair, tugging gently. lando moaned softly, angelically, his head tilted backwards and his eyes closed. it was a heavenly sight as he leaned down to sew her lips to his, walls beginning to contract against his cock.

"fuck, lando, go faster. i'm so close, baby." she whined, feeling him pick up the pace, hugging her body closer. she matched his movements, circling her hips and reaching a hand towards her clit.

"you coming, baby? you gonna come all over my thick, hard dick?" lando crooned. "touching yourself for me? getting yourself off on my cock."

"lando, please." she breathed, fingers rapidly moving against her swollen bud. she could feel herself getting closer, the band in her stomach getting tighter. "make me come."

he kissed her hard, thrusting deeper, the room echoing with the sounds of his skin slapping against hers, his guttural moans as his head fell back against the pillows. she could feel him release into the condom, his dick shuddering inside her, the latex getting warmer as it filled.

that was enough to trigger her own release, her juices pouring out of her, running down lando's shaft and dripping onto his thighs. she came with a cry of his name, bracing her hands against the headboard. her limbs felt like jelly as she tried to ease herself off him.

"easy does it." lando spoke softly, his voice raspy (as it usually was after sex), his touch gentle as he eased her down onto the bed. "remember to breathe, there's still water on the nightstand from last night. finish the glass, darling." he kissed her forehead softly before stripping himself of the condom and wiping her legs up with a handful of tissues. "come here."

she smiled, placing the now-empty ikea glass on the nightstand before curling up against him, wrapping her naked limbs over his, pulling the flat sheet over their bodies.

"this was a much better workout than boxing." she smiled, resting her head on his chest. "you're more fun than the coach is."

"i should hope so. i need to give you a reason to keep me around." lando joked, kissing her forehead. "i love you, my darling darling girl."

"i love you too, my handsome boy." she smiled, leaning up to kiss him, trailing a hand across his face as they kissed softly.

"by the way, this doesn't absolve you of driving to my mum's later. and yes, we're still going."

"god damn it! she always sends home with so much crap, i can't fit it all in the mclaren!"

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @thatsdemko @scuderiamh @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre @lorarri @userlando

#lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #lando norris smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris x you #Spotify

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jenscx · 2 months

Text

LUCID DREAM — ning yizhuo

it’s been years without ning yizhuo in your life. it feels surreal; the day you walked out without an explanation. but just the thought of being able to see her again, it draws you back into the endless loop of loving her.

TAGS — angst, exes to ???, insecurity, model!ning, ambiguous ending, mentions of alcohol, making up, jmj wedding (we don’t actually get to witness it tho)

WORDCOUNT — 7.4k

you stare at the wedding invitation, written neatly at the top, the invitation is addressed to a ning y/n. you want to cry. the invitation clearly stating your ex’s name makes your heart clench uncomfortably. it’s a blaring reminder that your relationship ended and you’re no longer living in your childhood fantasy.

“fuck,” you swear, “fuck you, kim minjeong.” you want to murder minjeong, but who were you to ask minjeong to stop reminding you of your bitter ending? especially since it was your own impulsiveness that had ended the relationship. you could have been more understanding towards yizhuo, could have tried her best to resolve your conflict, but no. instead, you ran. ran like the coward you were.

you remember the brokenhearted look on yizhuo’s face, the devastated glimmer in her eyes before she had flipped her expression to another, like a switch. or more like a broken one, your brain offers unhelpfully. of course, the quiver of her lips had given yizhuo away almost immediately. you had known yizhuo for a third of your life, obviously you could tell when your soulmate– or in this case, ex, was about to break down.

you wish you had stayed, and simply comforted your soulmate like old times, but you couldn’t bear to watch yizhuo cry, because of you. you remember the look on your friends’ faces when you told them that you broke up with yizhuo, all the words they had yelled at her for betraying yizhuo. you remember the anger directed at you by yizhuo’s parents when you had sent them an apology letter. through the post, yizhuo had told you, letters felt more sincere than emails.

but perhaps the worst reaction wasn’t from any of them, it was simply from your own cat. meowing viciously when you had picked him up, bringing him together with you. the scratches lining your arms only serve as a constant reminder. mao, your british short haired, was desperately attached to yizhuo (and she was the one who named him too. what absolute luck.) his hostility could only be reasoned that he knew his owner had hurt yizhuo. if a silly little cat knew the extent of the breakup, what could that mean for you?

“wallowing in your grief again? that’s not good for you,” you peer up at chaewon, the only friend that somehow wasn’t connected to yizhuo. chaewon takes a quick glance at the invitation and giggles, “you’re going? i hope you survive, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet.”

you merely sigh.

“the place’s gonna be filled with people who hate my guts, you really think i’m going? minjeong probably only sent this to piss me off.”

chaewon frowns, “you don’t seem pissed off, just sad. honey, you have to let me know if they’re bothering you, like actually. it’s not your fault, well– maybe it is, but you’re suffering too. it isn’t nice for them to do this to you.” you shrug in response. you deserve it. you deserve every stab in your heart, you deserve the tears that escape in the middle of the night.

“let’s drink tonight, okay? we’ll put on titanic or something and cry about life while eating ice cream,” chaewon offers. maybe it’s the thought of getting drunk, or titanic, or crying in your friend’s arms, but the offer is appealing and you find yourself agreeing too soon.

you can hear chaewon do a silent cheer. it makes you smile slightly and gives you enough energy to pull yourself up from the floor.

“i’ll go get the soju, just lie on the couch and relax!” you follow as your friend says and lie on the sofa you had picked out together after mao’s claws had sunk into the leather, ripping it to shreds. the cat was a brat.

doesn’t this remind you of something– or someone? the voice in your head quips. you groan, why couldn’t your head shut up sometimes? your heart drops as you recall the conversation between your parents when you had told them you broke things off with yizhuo. you remember your mother’s expression; disappointed and upset, a stark contrast to when you had told her that you finally found someone. the proud look on your father’s when you introduced yizhuo to them, god, why the fuck was yizhuo such an amazing girlfriend?

you caused this. you want to scream ‘no’. you’re the one who dumped yizhuo. who are you to be upset over thi–

“y/n? hey, stop thinking about it,” chaewon pouts, “don’t make yourself even more sad!” you blink back into reality and at the sight of chaewon puffing her cheeks out, holding two bottles of soju and a large bowl of popcorn, make you want to coo at the girl. you push the thoughts of yizhuo to the back of your head as soon as the opening to titanic appears on the screen.

you two laugh sometimes, mostly chaewon, but it’s quiet throughout the movie and you can’t tell whether you’d rather have chaewon’s comments about how cute the actors are or the silence that allows you to delve deeper into your thoughts. you take a sip whenever chaewon mentions how in love jack and rose are.

when you blink, it’s already at the part where jack allows rose to get onto the wooden door, while he stays in the freezing water. chaewon throws popcorn at the tv, apparently already drunk, screaming at rose to quote, “fucking move her ass,” for jack to get on. you take a large gulp of soju in the midst of chaewon’s sniffles.

“y/n…i can’t believe it… she just let jack die!” chaewon cries out, “the love of her life, she just let him go! how could she just let him die?!” you nod, trying to drink the already empty bottle of soju.

when you stand up, the whole room swirls and you stumble back onto the couch. “don’t let her go, y/n!” you jump at the close proximity of chaewon’s voice, “don’t let the love of your life go!”

you hum in agreement and scream, “i won’t let her go!” determined, you pick up your phone and the selfie of you and yizhuo greets her. you miss her, don’t you? of course not. you don’t miss her at all. change your homescreen then. you wouldn’t.

you roll your eyes and enter kakaotalk.

y/n [11.38pm]:

i kiss you

i miss you*

read [11.39pm]

“i did it, chaewon!” you exclaim, “i didn’t let her go!”

drunk you is apparently an idiot, since we all know, if a ‘i love you’ can’t solve a crack, obviously a ‘i miss you’ wouldn’t be able to solve an earthquake.

i miss you too. i miss you so much it hurts. but how could you say that, when you’re the one that left me first? yizhuo doesn’t cry as much anymore. she doesn’t sob into her pillow in the middle of the night anymore. the couple posts that appear on her instagram feed doesn’t make tears well up in her eyes anymore.

it still hurts. hurts as much as it did before. and yizhuo might just have to live with that pain everyday. the misspelt word makes her heart throb, in affection and pain, because she could imagine your voice in her head. are you hurting as much as she is? it doesn’t make the stabbing pain in her chest any better to know that the one she loves is suffering.

yizhuo stares at the glaring light from her phone. i miss you. really y/n? she wants to scoff. you were probably drunk out of your mind and sent that text on a whim. or maybe it was meant for another girl. the thought makes yizhuo want to cry.

is there someone else you call ‘baby' now?

fuck, you think, oh fuck. the read blaring on your phone, as if mocking you.

“shit,” chaewon groans, holding her head, “what happened last night? did we accidentally kill someone?” you wish you did. you take a deep breath, and scream. if the neighbours show up the next moment, it’s totally because of the night before, and not your scream at 8 in the morning.

you calm down. eventually. you calm down after chaewon grabs your shoulders and wiggles you back and forth, yelling for you to get your shit together. it only worsens the raging headache the both of you have. if rent wasn’t so high nowadays, you would have immediately fled and lived alone. kim chaewon with a hangover was not a good sight.

“whatever! you drunk texted your ex! whatever! hashtag yolo right— ah fuck, the room is spinning,” chaewon shrieks, “ugh, why did we drink so much?! but! your life isn’t over! so what if you texted her? it’s okay, we stay delusional and pretend things never happened!”

despite the wacky talk chaewon gives, it actually helps. texting yizhuo, while drunk, was a mistake. you nod hastily, “i get what you’re saying, but please let me go.”

chaewon loosens her grip, pursed lips as she huffs, “the most badass thing you can do now is go to the wedding.”

your eyes widen, “what the hell? kim chaewon, are you crazy? no, you’re insane.”

your roommate only grins lazily, “it came with a plus one invite, right? i’ll go with you. it’ll be okay! and don’t you wanna see your friends again?”

“i do, but most of them hate my guts,” you wince, recalling the angry messages left by aeri and minjeong, none from jimin, that probably speaks for itself what she thought of you, “they were yizhuo’s friends first, and mine second. when it comes to things like this, they would, rightfully so, take yizhuo’s side.”

chaewon whistles, “yeah it’s not looking too good for you right now.”

you flop onto the couch, sighing, “if i see yizhuo, i’ll freeze up and make a fool of myself.” your hands fly to rub at your eyes, groaning miserably, “i guess i’m not over her.”

chaewon slides into the space next to you, scoffing, “you think? having her number saved and pinned is crazy and the last time we talked before this, you were in love with her. what happened?”

your heart constricts painfully. you never spoke about your breakup to anyone, only asking chaewon if she still needed someone to split rent with. the moment you had uttered those words, you had left the shared apartment with yizhuo, not turning back to watch the love of your life collapse.

“i…” your throat dries up, “i was in love with her, i guess i still am. i don’t doubt that she felt the same for me, but maybe not anymore. our relationship was the best thing to ever happen to me. the happiest years of my life were when i was with yizhuo. she made me feel alive.”

tears prick at your eyes involuntarily. chaewon’s gaze is full of pity and comfort. sympathy. no one else gave you that.

“she wanted to get married, chaewon,” you whisper, “she was ready for marriage. i wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“i saw her looking at engagement rings one day and god, it was like, how have i never noticed before? she always shows me videos of weddings and how she would want her wedding to be like, but i never stopped to think whether i wanted marriage. i didn’t know what i would say if yizhuo just proposed. would it have hurt less for her if i said no rather than breaking up with her?”

chaewon presses a comforting hand to your shoulder, sighing, “i’m sorry, i literally see two of you right now but i’ll try to articulate this as best as i can.” her words draw out a hollow laugh from you. “you just weren’t ready yet, and yeah, you should have communicated that to her before jumping in to break up, but have you ever thought that you weren’t ready because you didn’t love her enough?”

you swallow, tears flowing down your cheeks freely, “n-no, i love her. she’s my favourite person. i love her so much, too much even. but getting married? that’s a lifelong commitment. i just didn’t know if she was sure that she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with… me. she has her whole life figured out. she’s a rich model who could have anyone else. we were childhood friends first, before girlfriends. and now she’s certain that she wants to marry me? what if there’s someone better for her out there? she’s only been chained to me because we got together so young. i just… had to let her go.”

“commitment issues,” chaewon states, “you have severe commitment issues.”

“i guess so,” you let out a watery laugh. your roommate chuckles, “you want her back?”

“yeah, i’m desperate.”

“let’s go to the wedding.”

you send a small smile to chaewon, “thanks, roomie.”

“i saw the invite by the way, and damn, are your friends rich? don’t get me wrong, i’m going as your moral support but the free buffet too—”

“i’m literally going to strangle you.”

yizhuo twirls the pen in her hand, watching it glide across her fingers and abruptly landing on the wooden table with a thud. she couldn’t stand seeing all the wedding preparations and chose to hide in jimin’s study. the door creaks open, a figure stands by the doorway.

“hello jimin unnie, aren’t you meant to be looking over the finishing touches of your wedding?” yizhuo asks, her smile dimming as she thinks about marriage. jimin frowns, “minjeong’s doing that. she told me to come check up on you.”

“me?”

“i know how you feel about weddings. we all do,” jimin says bluntly. yizhuo’s lips fall into a thin line. of course her friends were aware. they helped pick out the ring for god’s sake. the weight of a velvet box lying in her bedside table haunts her dreams.

yizhuo stands up from her desk, inching closer to jimin, a faux smile on her face, “you don’t have to worry about me. it’s your special day after all.”

“not yet, but let me worry about my friend for a while more before i get married,” jimin mutters, “minjeong sent an invite to y/n.” yizhuo’s whole body tenses up. a blurry image of you appears in her brain. she immediately shuts that down.

biting the inside of her cheek, yizhuo turns away from jimin with folded arms, “and? did she say she was coming?”

yizhuo hears jimin’s hesitance.

“just say it.”

jimin clears her throat, “she’s coming with a plus one.”

a distant thought forms. a plus one. your new girlfriend? did you find someone else? were you coming to the wedding to flaunt your new lover? yizhuo wasn’t dumb, she knew that her friends disliked you, heavily. minjeong most definitely sent out that invitation with disgust. jimin told her what minjeong had said to you. aeri had barely brushed it off, saying you weren’t worth her time scolding, despite the chain of messages she sent. she knew that you were aware they hated you. why would you come to the wedding?

“i-i’m not sure what’s their relationship, but her name is kim chaewon and oh my god, minjeong’s gonna kill me, y/n requested for a shared hotel room,” jimin utters out nervously. yizhuo’s eyes turn into slits. a shared hotel room?

“i see,” yizhuo says indifferently, contrasting the feelings bubbling inside her, “that’s good to know.”

jimin places a hand on yizhuo’s shoulder, “hey, it could all mean nothing, i don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“does it matter when i’m already like this?” yizhuo retorts back.

“i hope you don’t do anything stupid. before everything, you’re still my friend. if y/n showing up makes you uncomfortable, i’ll tell her she’s not invited,” jimin says softly, “minjeong will understand. you come first.”

“it’s your wedding, jimin. i won’t be a burden to you guys. it’s your day,” yizhuo mirrors jimin’s frown.

jimin’s shoulders slack.

“it’s not about that,” the older girl retorts, exasperated.

“what is it about then?”

“i don’t think minjeong will stay neutral and be calm when she sees y/n,” jimin groans, “she’ll probably pick a fight with her and i don’t want my wife to be stressed and angry on her wedding day.”

yizhuo can’t help teasing jimin, “wife, huh?”

jimin smirks, “yes, wife. you know last week, minjeong called me—”

“oh kay! i think you should go!” yizhuo yells, saving herself from the details of her friends’ intimate lives. jimin cackles maniacally as she leaves the study. yizhuo sighs and leans her head against the wooden door. jimin’s footsteps can be heard as she walks downstairs, along with the voices of her friends. they’re all scattered and anxious, she hears the distant shouting of minjeong and aeri. despite the noise around her, yizhuo feels somewhat at peace. for now. she doesn’t know what she’s going to do the moment you come to the wedding.

because despite what everyone else says, yizhuo cannot move on. you were literally half of her life and more. when you had uttered those words of devastation, it was like the world had ended. a terrible nightmare that tortured yizhuo every single day. was she too overbearing? sometimes— well, last time, you had mentioned that she was a very affectionate and clingy girlfriend. was that the sole reason? yizhuo frowns. no, that couldn’t be. you were equally as physically needy as her.

maybe you had found someone new? the plus one that was coming? that didn’t seem plausible either. if you were cheating, yizhuo would most definitely know and you abhorred cheaters anyway.

as she wrecked her mind for reasons, a common past time she developed after you had left, the constant rewinding of the conversation had been engraved in her brain eternally.

(yizhuo had just gotten off work, a smile on her face as she entered the house, heels clacking against the floor. the thought of you waiting at home impatiently for her only brought her smile to widen. maybe you would run up to her and embrace her warmly, complaining about how long she took. yet, neither of those happened and she’s left staring at you, hunched over, at the dining table, a suitcase packed by your side.

“what are you doing?” she had asked curiously. were you going on a trip? begrudgingly, you had gotten up, a sombre look on your face as you whispered, “yizhuo…”

that ticked yizhuo off. you never called her yizhuo. it was always baby, honey, sweetheart. but never yizhuo. it sounded so foreign and cold coming from your lips.

“what’s wrong? is everything okay?” she asked.

your face contorts into one of utter desperation and heartbreak, “i think we should break up.”

yizhuo’s mind had gone blank. she had never anticipated hearing those words from you. break up? that wasn’t in her future with you. her heart clenched uncomfortably against her ribcage and her throat constricted, to the point she couldn’t mutter a single word.

taking advantage of her silence, you run your fingers through your hair, the hair that yizhuo would so lovingly comb through every night as she whispered words of devotion into your ear, “i want to break up.”

“no.” is the only thing yizhuo can say. wide-eyed and stupefied, “no.”

you look as stunned as she is, yet the stark difference between the two of you, are the tears that threaten to tip over at every passing second in your eyes.

“yizhuo,” you pleaded, “i’m sorry. i can’t.”

“why are you doing this?” she croaked out, demanding an answer. the weight of the velvet box in her purse felt like it was dragging her down to the darkest pits of hell. she couldn’t imagine something like this ever happening. you were meant to be her happily ever after.

“i—”

yizhuo couldn’t stand it anymore. “tell me why you want to break up!” she yelled, the confusion and fatigue of her body overwhelming everything.

“i… please… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“you don’t love me anymore? you found someone else?” yizhuo accused. of course, none of these were the true reasons. you couldn’t even look at yizhuo in the eye before murmuring an apology again and grasping the suitcase in your hand.

“i love you,” you had whispered at the door, “i’m sorry.”

yizhuo doesn’t even respond. pure shock overtaking her as she watched you leave. the moment the door had closed, sobs took over yizhuo as she collapsed on the floor, heartbroken and devastated at losing the love of her life.

if you truly loved her, you wouldn’t have left so easily.)

that statement plagues yizhuo’s mind for the next few years. it replays in her head repeatedly, like a broken mantra. she knows that it’s unhealthy; to be thinking of you every night before she succumbs to a dreamless sleep. yet, sometimes, yizhuo prays that she might be dreaming, and when she wakes up, you would be right by her side. jimin thinks she should get a therapist. but yizhuo doesn’t want to get over you. she fears that you might just become a hazy memory, lost in anger and grief. she doesn’t want that to happen. because despite everything, the pain you have caused her, she still loves you.

it’s strange, the way love works. yizhuo hates you for doing this to her; ruining her for anyone else because if they even bore a similar trait to you, she would just break down. like the blind date aeri had set her up on long ago. fresh out of the breakup, and with extreme bribery and convincing, yizhuo had met shen xiaoting, one of aeri’s friends, over dinner. aeri had said that maybe yizhuo needed someone closer to her culture, and with the homesickness she felt constantly, the lack of comforting words that you provided, yizhuo agreed.

that date was the whole reason aeri stopped asking yizhuo to go on blind dates, for when xiaoting had mentioned that she liked cats, yizhuo had started bawling, the memory of you playing with your own pet cursing her mind.

it was embarrassing to say the least, and even more embarrassing to explain to xiaoting that it wasn’t her fault. the poor girl had thought yizhuo had something against cats. aeri apologised endlessly as yizhuo cried, with an awkward xiaoting patting her shoulder. at least they became friends.

maybe, with the support of her friends, yizhuo would be able to stand the sight of you at the wedding. it would be totally fine! and if she sees you with someone new, maybe, just maybe, it would give her the motivation to finally get over you.

honestly, screw everything. you literally hate chaewon right now. thankfully, jimin and minjeong had provided a one night stay at the hotel. your apartment (and mao) was being taken care of by sakura, one of chaewon’s friends. there was apparently a party before the actual day. you assumed they would just want a shared bachelorette party. however, your self-proclaimed wingman was cozying up to one of the guests. by her straight posture and gentle expression, she was probably nakamura kazuha from high school. yizhuo was friends with her, you remember.

you couldn’t believe that all those words of encouragement had flown out the window the moment chaewon locked eyes with the ‘love of her life’. you roll your eyes, already annoyed with your friend. somehow, you still hadn’t spotted yizhuo amongst the crowd.

most of them, you didn’t recognise. some, from high school and college. the rest, probably family members. maybe some faces stood out, like shin ryujin from history class or jang wonyoung, the valedictorian. but mostly, unrecognisable. from the various mops of hair in the crowd, you spot uchinaga aeri’s infamous smirk. you wonder where the rest of the group are.

you sigh, taking a lonely sip of the champagne they provided. at least it was good.

chaewon’s obnoxious laughter fills the area. it’s loud and irritating, or maybe you’re just easily annoyed right now. kazuha just stares at her, all confused. it’s a little funny.

“y/n.” a steely voice rings out from the crowd. you whip your head, heart racing at the familiar but dreadful tone.

“oh,” you whisper, horror-stricken. you weren’t prepared to meet them now!

the older girl merely stares at you, before you bow your head hesitantly, “congratulations on your marriage.”

jimin visibly loosened up, her eyes twinkling and shining with adoration, “thank you.” perhaps out of all of yizhuo’s friends, jimin was the one who hated you the least. she didn’t bother scolding you or cursing you out, only choosing to glare at you.

“i think we should talk,” she finally says after a moment of silence. you wholeheartedly agree with her. if you were meant to see yizhuo tomorrow, you definitely needed another friend that wasn’t chaewon.

she brings you out of the function room, the starry night sky being the only company outside. jimin takes a long gulp of her champagne.

“why’d you really break up with yizhuo?”

the patiently and dedicated stitches of a sewed wound are ripped apart, directly exposing your bleeding heart and emotions. everything comes falling apart the moment she asks. you can only stare at her.

“i… i made a mistake,” you shake your head, “i wasn’t ready.”

jimin, patient as always, hums, urging you to continue.

“she wanted to get married. i didn’t,” you say, with grief and regret lacing your every word, because everything would be fine if you had just talked to yizhuo.

“we helped her pick out the ring,” jimin adds. you only feel more guilty.

“i can’t give her the life she wants, unnie,” the endearing term of intimacy slips out, a cry filled with desperation, “she deserves the world and i can’t give her that.”

“you were her world. it’s that simple. she only ever wanted you.”

hurt gnaws at your heart, it’s palpitating with raw stabs that echo of your heartbreak.

“i don’t deserve her,” you sigh, “i had to let her go. i couldn’t bear to see the look on her face if i refused her engagement.”

jimin nods, “i understand your fear. but i hate the fact that this could have been solved with an explanation.”

you groan, anger coursing through your veins. you were so upset and narrow-minded at the time. the only solution was to seemingly break up with yizhuo. it would spare her the everlasting pain from a rejection of her proposal.

“i know, i just couldn’t at that time.”

the older girl tries to smile. it’s akin to one of those encouraging ones she would give right before an exam or test. it sparks a shiver of nostalgia.

“jagiya, where are you— oh.”

jimin quickly straightens up, swiftly turning around to face minjeong with a grin, “hey, mindoong.”

you tense up, your fingers wrapping around the glass tightly.

“glad you could make it,” minjeong’s eyes flicker up and down your body, venom evident in her tone as she hisses, “y/n.”

nodding, you reply, “thank you for inviting me.”

the tension is overbearing; with minjeong’s glares, jimin’s beaming smile and your awkward shuffling, you couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of your hotel room.

“where’s your girlfriend?” minjeong suddenly asks. you stare at her, confused, “my what?”

jimin’s eyes widen as she hastily pulls minjeong aside, frantically whispering in her ear. but like the past, jimin has never been a good whisperer. you catch phrases like ‘she might not be her girlfriend’ and ‘what if yizhuo hears?’. a looming sensation brews in your stomach.

“kim chaewon? is that her name?” minjeong asks harshly, “didn’t take you to like korean girls, i thought you liked chinese girls instead.”

you’re visibly taken aback. what was minjeong saying? chaewon? your girlfriend? since when was chaewon your girlfriend?

“uh,” despite your fear of minjeong yelling at you, your words come out firmly, “chaewon isn't my girlfriend.”

minjeong falters slightly before scoffing, “yeah right. you don’t have to lie now. we all know that you left yizhuo for some other girl.”

your heart stops. what?

what was she saying?

leaving yizhuo for another girl?

“i— i would never… that’s—”

“minjeong unnie, that’s enough.”

you’ve thought of this moment forever. every single day after the break up. you’ve thought of running back into her arms, apologising endlessly for even thinking of breaking up with her. you’ve thought of how she would accept you graciously with murmurs of comfort, because that was just how she was. a gracious and generous girl who deserved the world. you’ve thought of her bright smile and gleaming eyes.

you’ve never thought of her staring at you, a dull and saddened look on her face.

“ning—”

“minjeong unnie,” she pleads, “please.”

the watery gaze must have swayed minjeong over. you would know, having fallen prey to her puppy eyes before. yizhuo slides the door open, watching intently as minjeong and jimin leave.

“good luck,” jimin whispers just before she steps away. you think you need all the luck in the world right now.

yizhuo lets out a heavy sigh once the door slides closed. she gazes at you for a second. you’re taken back to your younger days, where every day was spent just staring at yizhuo. you had proclaimed confidently that yizhuo was the most gorgeous girl on earth. you aren’t wrong. the years you spent apart from her had done her generously. it had only been two, yet, yizhuo looked more mature and sure of herself.

“did you really find someone new?” she whispers, shattering the glass of ignorance. you swallow, shaking your head, “no.”

yizhuo thinks back to the drunken message you had sent.

“was that on purpose? that text you sent,” she asks, eyes wide and afraid of your answer.

you shake your head again, “i was drunk. i’m sorry.”

“i hate you, you know that right?” yizhuo says. before, you had imagined the piercing stab of pain that came with those words. you had thought it would be the end of your life, with the girl you loved the most saying she hated you.

it’s understandable now, and inevitable.

“i know,” you whisper.

yizhuo continues to stare at you. somehow, this all feels like a fever dream, one that she’ll wake up from soon. it feels unreal to have you in front of her again.

she takes in the sight of you, memorising every detail for if you leave again.

“why’d you come then?”

there are many reasons that you can say, with varying degrees of truthfulness; to congratulate jimin and minjeong, to see your friends again, to just visit your hometown.

“i wanted to see you.” it’s the truthest thing you’ve ever said.

“you can’t,” yizhuo inhales sharply, “yo-you can’t just show up like this.”

“i know, i’m sorry.”

your head hangs lowly.

“tell me the real reason why you left.”

you had expected this.

she would want closure.

your throat constricts uncomfortably.

“i… yizhuo…”

“tell me.” it feels similar to your past.

yizhuo looks as beautiful as ever. she’s the only thing you can think of right now. her lips are moving, yet you don’t hear a single thing.

“i didn’t want marriage.”

oh.

the girl’s eyebrows furrow. her eyes turning into slits of anger as she takes in a deep breath. you know she’s about to start tearing up. maybe you should quickly explain yourself.

it’s your only chance.

“i saw you looking at engagement rings and i knew i wouldn’t be ready if you got down on one knee. you’re a model, for god’s sake. you had a prospering career, being tied down to someone like me wouldn’t bring you any benefits,” you finally say. it’s not the full reason why, but you hope yizhuo would understand even a semblance of your choice.

“i know that it’s a shitty excuse. i know that i’m a coward. but what else was i meant to do?”

yizhuo huffs.

“talked to me. you could have talked to me.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“would that stop me from breaking your heart?”

the love of your life stands before you. yet, it seems like the only words of devotion you’ll exchange is how devoted she is to hating you. yizhuo crosses her arms, frowning, “yes. i’d much rather have a minute of heartbreak than years of it. you’re such a prick.”

“yizhuo—”

“no, you don’t get to do this,” she points a finger at your chest, prodding the area where your head resides ferociously, “you can’t just come back, explain yourself with an extremely stupid reason, and expect that i would be okay with it. you sent me a drunk text, saying you missed me. how come i don’t feel anything?”

“i love you, yizhuo. i just did what i thought was right in that moment—”

the only thing you can hear is your heart shattering into pieces at the sight of tears falling down her face. yizhuo sniffles, her voice becoming shrill as she adds on, “you’re an asshole. you think you’re the only one in this relationship? you didn’t even explain yourself properly. you think you’re making the right choices for us? for me?”

you continue to stare at her blankly.

the next words come out like a gunshot, “then you don’t know me at all.”

it snaps onto your skin, leaving a scathing burn and engraving ning yizhuo’s name into your body. your insides coil up painfully. hearing yizhuo’s cries as you left years ago had been torturous, but nothing beats her breaking down in front of you right this instant. you’re overcome with a striking urge to pull her into your arms and whisper words of affection into her ears, promising her to never leave. the pet name leaves your mouth quicker than you can think.

“baby—”

a sharp stinging sensation sears in your right cheek. you can feel the affected area heating up, scorching hot and red. yizhuo’s handprint is evident, singed in your skin.

an onslaught of tears rises, but you’re determined to not let them fall.

“okay,” you whisper, unable to say anything else to the equally stunned yizhuo, “i’ll leave. i’m sorry.”

the girl just stands outside in the cold, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks rosy from the wind. before you go, the slight shiver that runs through her body makes you hesitate. the comfort of your jacket feels like a heavy burden now.

maybe you would get slapped again. but at least yizhuo wouldn’t be cold.

gently taking it off, you encase yizhuo in your jacket, biting your cheek (which still hurts!) to resist a smile at how it covers her small figure. she gazes at you like a deer caught in headlights. you sigh and try to move your legs, but they feel like jelly. with much difficulty, you finally make it to the door, using the frame to stabilise your wobbly walking.

when you turn back, yizhuo isn’t staring at you, but she’s staring at the night sky, more specifically, the moon. you take one last look at her. the weight on your shoulders is gone now. and all that is left is a longing feeling to have yizhuo back in your arms again. but maybe, you could live with that.

sliding the door open, you go back into the function room. the crowd had dispersed, leaving just a few people chatting around. you spot jimin and minjeong talking while drinking. aeri’s at the bar, engaged in a conversation with a waitress. chaewon, god bless her, is relatively nearby, while kazuha is nowhere to be found.

“chaewon,” you breathe out, relieved. she turns to you, startled, “oh damn, what happened to your face? you look a little…”

“i know,” you laugh dryly, “i think it’s time for us to leave and go to sleep now.”

chaewon doesn’t argue and instead nods, her eyes drawn to the reddening mark across your cheek. even in the dark light, she could still notice the imprints of someone’s fingers.

“she slapped you?” she asks while you head towards the elevator.

“yeah,” you scratch the back of your neck, “we kind of… argued.”

chaewon laughs heartily at your misfortune. you’re glad at least this brings someone joy. maybe minjeong too. she would love to see you in pain.

“i think you should get some rest buddy,” she pats your back. you nod, feeling as if sleep was just an arm’s reach away.

the conversation with yizhuo had drained you significantly, both mentally and physically. and maybe you should put some ointment on the red area too. you might wake up with a bruise or something tomorrow.

the urge to flop into bed is too strong as chaewon slides the keycard into the slot. the door opens, revealing a luxurious hotel suite with a king-sized bed. you remember requesting for a shared room. it was to mainly prevent yourself from doing anything reckless when drunk. you’d have chaewon to keep you grounded.

“did you get kazuha’s number?” you ask as chaewon throws her face cleanser at you. the girl giggles, “yeah. she’s so cute.”

you subtly cringe at the lovestruck look in her eyes.

groaning, you head into the bathroom. your eyes widen as you prod at your cheek, shocked that yizhuo landed such a heavy hit. damn, has she been going to the gym lately? the yizhuo back then barely had any strength to resist your tickles. there wasn’t any surging hot anger left from yizhuo slapping you, just a dull and yearning hope for her. maybe you should calm yourself down by taking a cold shower.

after dowsing yourself with water, you padded out of the bathroom, only to discover that chaewon wasn’t hunched over her luggage anymore.

you check your phone.

chaewon [10.27pm]:

zuha texted me, staying w her for the night

there’s ointment on the bedside table

for ur stupid face

bye :p

wow. chaewon had managed to do that within a day. staying at a girl’s hotel room? you whistle lowly. maybe she was onto something. but with her departure, the hotel room feels too quiet now. only the breezing and fluttering sounds of the airconditioning accompanying your thoughts of self-loathing. collapsing onto the bed, you reach out for the ointment.

just as you unscrew the cap, the doorbell rings. you don’t recall ever ordering room service. maybe it was chaewon and she forgot something?

you turn the door knob, not bothering to check who it was.

“chaewon—”

ning yizhuo stands before you, glassy eyes and a look of desperation that you’re familiar with.

“oh.”

she shuffles awkwardly, gesturing at your cheek, “are—is it okay? does it hurt?”

gulping, you shake your head.

“can we talk?” she asks, in the quietest voice ever, her words coming out shaky and breathless.

you open the door wider.

yizhuo mutters a soft, “thank you,” as she enters the room. you quickly send a text to chaewon telling her not to come back.

“did you put any cream on it?” she asks.

“no, not yet. i was just about to,” you reply quietly. the tension from the heated argument from before had disapparented, only leaving a strained relationship behind.

“can you sit down?”

you follow her instructions dutifully, sitting right at the edge of the bed. yizhuo lifts the ointment up, squeezing a bit on her finger before gently rubbing it into your cheek. it hurts, but the softness of her touch heals the area.

wincing as she applies more pressure, you can only stare at the girl.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers.

“it’s okay.”

you want to pull her into your arms.

you want her to lean onto you.

you want the feeling of her skin against yours.

“i was really hurt.”

“i know.”

yizhuo sighs, her hands dropping.

“i can’t believe you left me so easily.”

your chest tightens at the devastated tone in her voice. it wasn’t easy, you want to say. but it doesn’t feel right to defend yourself now.

“i thought it was the right thing to do.”

yizhuo lifts her head up, “why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t want to get married?”

“i don’t know,” it comes out in a hushed murmur, “i didn’t want to tie you down. you had a lot more things to accomplish.”

“i’d rather have you and nothing than losing you and having everything.”

the confession goes unsaid. because you’re her everything.

“i’m sorry. you just had your whole life in front of you and i was in the back. i… i didn’t fit into your life.”

the girl takes everything in. you were just so afraid then. scared that once you said yes to her proposal, yizhuo might realise that you weren’t the one for her. you’d rather be away from her, than be with her and make her unhappy. you didn’t want to live a miserable life where you hated each other.

“you don’t get to make that choice for me.”

“i know, yizhuo.”

yizhuo’s eyes are brimming with tears. her raven hair covering her face partially, but you can feel the pain radiating off her.

“you know that i would have been happy just being with you?”

“i know.”

“god, you still left like it was the easiest decision of your life.”

no it wasn’t, you again want to protest.

“you know that even in another life, i would choose to just have you by my side, even if i lose everything else? don’t you understand the extent of my love for you?”

it’s so surreal— the way yizhuo is practically begging for you to realise that leaving her was the worst possible choice for you to make.

“i love you too much.”

“then why’d you leave?” she asks.

through tears, you shakily breathe out, “because i love you too much.”

the lack of past tense doesn’t bother you, nor does it bother yizhuo. it’s a given that you’re still madly in love with the girl, and vice versa. it only leaves the question of what will happen now. yizhuo doesn’t say much afterwards. it’s the truth. you love her too much that you couldn’t bear to see her suffer because of you.

“i was so ready to marry you, i bought a ring,” yizhuo mutters, shedding tears. her sniffles aren’t concealed by the low humming of the air conditioning. it feels too real.

“forgive me, please,” you say.

“i can’t.”

the hotel room goes quiet.

“that’s okay,” it’s hard to say. you want to protest against everything, beg yizhuo to take you back and you could live your happily ever after with her.

it doesn’t happen. you don’t fall to your knees and plead.

you only stare at yizhuo in a mix of fear and longing affection. it pains you to see her so broken, and it only drives the knife further into your heart to know you’re the reason why.

“i’m so tired, y/n.”

you nod, feeling the fatigue seep in.

“me too.”

“can i sleep here tonight?” yizhuo asks softly.

you nod. there were still things to talk about, but you think you’ve done a decent job so far. pulling the covers over your bodies as yizhuo slides into the bed, you relish in the warmth and comfort of having her beside you again.

she turns her head to look at you, uncertainty filling her voice, “let’s talk more in the morning. i’m tired now.”

you agree with her wholeheartedly, inching closer to fit against her back.

as yizhuo’s eyelids flutter shut, you caress her skin tenderly. your index finger writes against her back, strokes lining her skin.

我爱你.

i love you. it’s one of the many phrases you’ve picked up throughout the years of being with the girl. she only taught you silly words and swears, but yizhuo had insisted you learn how to say and write those very words.

it’s fitting, because it’s all you ever feel for her.

because of yizhuo, you’ve had the opportunity to experience having a soulmate for almost your whole life. because of yizhuo, there’s no lingering doubt of being unlovable. because of yizhuo, you get to spend your days filled with happiness.

because of yizhuo, you understand what love is.

you just hope she understands you too.

#aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #ning yizhuo x reader #yizhuo x reader #ningning x reader #aespa #ningning #ning yizhuo

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robynlilyblack · 2 months

Text

Something Important

James Potter x fem! clumsy! Reader

Summary: After years of hiding that part of himself, James adores being unapologetically silly with his favourite girl

Warnings: swearing, post-hogwarts, established relationship, mentions of food, small cooking injury, eating and sex, reader bruises like a peach, kissing, flirty reader, flirty james, domestic fluff, sirius black being a terrible gamer

A/n: 1.8k words, was feeling a little James today, I've missed writing him so much I had fun with this one, enjoy ♡

Navigation | James Potter Masterlist

“Hi! Not someone breaking in, it's just me…y/n…you know…your girlfriend…but hopefully you already knew that! Sorry Jamie, this door…oh for fecks sake…the door is being mean to me again!”

James chuckled along with his friends on the couch at your dumbs and whines at the door, putting his controller down he called back

“You need help, my love?” he asks yet he’s already getting up and walking through as the door finally opens, unaware of his controller being swiped by Sirius, earning a small ‘oh no’ from Remus as he braces himself

“No, no it’s okay…aw crap...dammit....come on...” you wave it off but then the door grabs you and you’re left trying to un-loop yourself from the handle, unfortunately it does get the better of you this time as you begin to fall, preparing for impact and one hell of a bruise to add to your already impressive collection

Luckily your knight in shining armour is there to catch you and you breathe a sigh of relief when you hit his chest “Hello my sweet” he greets you, the biggest smile on his face

You don’t even try to lift yourself up, just adjust your head, chin poking into his chest as you look up at him “Hello” you pout at him, but that lil smile of yours still peaks through “Our door is mean”

“It is” he agrees, pecking your lips sweetly before gently kicking the front foor with his foot eliciting giggles from you “Bad door” he chastises before turning his attention briefly to the living room door at the chuckling and mocking from his friends

"You sure showed that door mate!" you hear Remus laugh

“Oh dear prongsie, now you have defeated the almighty door can you come save me from the couch, my arse has but fallen asleep!”

"Shut it mr and mrs I can't get past the first boss to save my life" James rolls his eyes while you giggle at their offended in sync 'heys!' "Sorry ‘bout them love, don’t worry I’ll kick em out before dinner”

“Oh I assumed they’d be joining us?” you wonder

Something flashes behind his eyes “Not tonight hun” he gives you a flirty look “Tonight’s just for us” he tells you before helping you to stand properly, kissing the tips of his fingers before finding the section of your waist where you jumper got caught, rubbing it gently

You lean into his touch, even more excited than you already were for dinner tonight, all you had to do now was make sure James didn’t see too deep into one of the shopping bags, or he’d see the rather lacey treat you had bought earlier

“Come on sweetheart” James gestures for you to follow, instinctively grabbing the grocery bags that had been dropped during your battle and bringing them through to the kitchen, but not before kissing the side of your head first “I missed you”

“Ditto big guy” you throw him a wink, letting him take the lead

As you pass the living room you do poke your head in quickly to see what they had been up to, sniggering a little as you watch Sirius struggle with some muggle videogame, noting the boy is getting increasingly frustrated to the point even his boyfriend is a tad scared of him, hugging one of your pillows as if it’s to protect him.

As you enter the kitchen you watch as James lifts the bags you had struggled with home onto the counter with ease, eyes fluttering over his muscles, made more prominent by the tightness of his shirt

He’s so strong and dreamy

“So, what am I cooking for dinner?” he asks trying to discern what you actually bought before turning back only to find you unapologetically staring

He’d never admit it but he still blushed when he caught you admiring him

“Enjoying yourself?” he flexes his arm a little

Your eyes flick back up to meet him, nodding with a smug little smile “Very much, did you ask me something?” you wonder, stepping forward to join him properly

He chuckles, hand slipping around your waist “I asked what I was making for dinner?” he glances down at you, his own eyes doing a little wandering as he awaits your answer

“Actually…I was thinking I could make it for us tonight” you flashing a cheeky smile, hands finding his own, you were up to something

“What are you planing?” he eyes you teasingly

“Surprise” you sway back and forth, shrugging, ever effervescent, however, he’s called away before he could rangle any more information out of you as there's a yell from the other room

“Motherfucker!!! What the fuck was is that fucking thing…Moony darlin you seeing this shit!”

“Oh yeah love I’m seeing it…Prongs!!”

You burst out in quiet laughter over Sirius’' rage and Remus’ subsequent call for aid, as does James, betting his friend is almost certainly about to die…for the…bloody hell only Godric knows what time

“Crap he’s got the controller…I better go check in before Pads throws the controller again and actually breaks the tv this time” James lets out a breathy laugh, moving around you but stops before he lets go of your hand “You sure you’ll be alright?” he checks in, and when you nod he steals a quick kiss from you before he leaves…plus a cheeky arse squeeze

A couple hours pass by and it’s time for the other boys to go, just as James had finally convinced Sirius to leave without the game, sparing Remus from a premature heart attack, you appear in the doorway shouting a quick goodbye

“I love them but we are going to need to find less rage enducing…” James closes the door, locking up as he speaks but trails off as he turns around spotting your rather chaotic looking state “...did the kitchen fight back?” he can’t help the chuckle that bubbles

He takes a moment to cherish your appearance, it’s almost like a game to him, trying to figure out what you made him based on the ingredients adorning your clothes. The main culprit seems to be flour, your once black tights and skirt now littered with hand prints as you swiped them clean, though there were no new holes so little wins. He saw some littering of what he can only imagine is various spices on the ends of your rolled up sleeves…and one failed attempt in the centre of your jumper to open what he would later learn was cinnamon.

“I won though!” he’s pulled away from his admiring as you jump a little, excited as you waddle happily up to him

“Merlin sweets you had anymore food on you you’d be a…ooo that’s good” he reaches out, thumb gently clearing the remnants of what seems to be a delicious creamy sauce from your cheek “What kind of cheese is this?” he enquires, licking his lips before finding your eyes but their lingering a little south of his own, basking in your reaction as he teases you, running his tongue along his lips

“I know you’re doing that on purpose…” your eyes finally break away, finding his own “...but don’t stop” you near beg

He laughs “Never” leaning down, one hand finding your chin, angling it upwards towards his lips while the other subtly removes what he now realises is a carrot from your hair “Now do you want to show me your masterpiece?” he nudges his nose gently against yours

“Yes” you buzz, practically vibrating with excitement as you take his hands in yours but as you do James notices the plaster on your hand “Hun?” you turn back

“Aww sweetheart, what happened?” he brings your hand up, inspecting it before faux worry floods his handsome features “I’m so sorry my love but…” he takes a break, shaking his head “...we’re going to have to cut it off”

You match his energy “What!” you exclaim “Oh great heavens! Whatever will I do?” dramatically bringing you palm to your forehead

James’ struggles to keep in character though, his heart always warmed when you were silly with him, it was times like these that made him absolutely sure you were the one for him

“Hmmm” he rubs his chin in thought “There may be one way we can fix this but I have to tell you it’s a risky procedure”

“Do it, I’ll give you anything oh handsome handsome doctor” you clasp your hands together, pleading with him

He smirks “Indeed…I am a very handsome doctor, so I expect to be rewarded handsomely for my work” he informs you, wiggling his eyebrows

You purse your lips attempting to suppress your growing smile “Of course! Now please save my finger” you hold it up to him

He gently takes it with one hand, using the other to perform fake magic as mutters some fake incantation under his breath, throwing a wink your way before he presses his lips every so softly to your ‘mortal wound’

He gives your hand back and as he does you hold it up, bending your finger as you check it works “I’m cured!! It’s a miracle” eyes lighting up as you cheer, beginning to laugh near the end finally breaking character, a cheesy smile on your face as you look up at him

He drops his own act, a loving smile adorning his features as he cups your cheeks “Merlin I love you so much” his words drip with such verity, eyelashes finding audience with his cheeks as his smile widens further

“I love you mo-” he squeezes your cheeks together halting your words before the daily battle of ‘who loves whom more’ transpires

“Nuh huh missy” he pecks your puckered lips before releasing you “You definitely okay?” his playful nature sinks back into concerned boyfriend for a moment, even with all the fun and games he always checked in

You nod “Just just a little nick while I was grating the cheese” you explain

“Good” he scrunches his nose a little, bending down slightly as his brings your finger up one more, isolating it from the others “Because one day this one is going to hold something very important” James almost falls in love all over again as he watches the sheer giddiness that takes hold on you at the insinuation “You going to keep it safe for me?”

He’s surprised you don’t get dizzy with how firm your nodding is “With my life” you promise, holding your hand to your heart

“Did that break you a bit?” he wonders, soft laugher escaping his lips when you let out a little hum “You want to show me to dinner before you implode?”

You hum again, grabbing his hand as you lead him towards the your feast, unaware you won’t have to keep that finger safe for long as in a little drawer by your dining table lays that something important

Thank you for reading ♡

#james potter and reader #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter and you #james potter and y/n #james potter fluff #james potter fanfiction #james potter #james and reader #james x reader #james x you #james potter fic #marauders fic #james fleamont potter #young james potter

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pomefioredove · 3 months

Note

Hiii!! I was wondering if you could “I can’t stop thinking about you” with Jade? If ur prompt things are still open of course! If not that’s totally okay too!!

o7 anon

summary: "I can’t stop thinking about you" type of post: short fic characters: jade additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread and maybe a little ooc a part of this event

"And don't forget to lock the doors when you leave,"

Azul sighs, hovering in the doorway of the Mostro Lounge with his hands on his hips.

"Luckily, nothing was stolen last time I let Floyd take the closing shift, but luck is fickle,"

He pauses, turning to you. "I'm sure you, at least, will be able to handle something so simple."

You salute the tired-looking merman before the soft swoosh of the kitchen door interrupts the conversation.

"My, you have such little faith in me, Azul. I'm wounded," a smoother, much less tense, presence follows it.

You'd always wondered how Jade is able to sound imposing without ever actually raising his voice.

Azul huffs. "I clearly was not addressing you. Good evening to the both of you... Don't stay up too late,"

And with that, he's gone.

As soon as the door is closed and Azul's inky silhouette has vanished, you turn to look at the gentleman behind you.

"I didn't even know you were here,"

"I'm not supposed to be," Jade smiles, offering little explanation.

By now, you're sure he does that on purpose.

You don't feel like being baited into a conversation, but when your only other option is silence with Jade...

"So?"

"I was taking stock," he says. "Both metaphorically and literally. We're short on limes."

His strangeness radiates off of him like a mist. You narrow your eyes at him; he's hiding something, you're sure. But what are you supposed to do- interrogate him?

"I'll leave a note," you mutter, turning your attention back to sweeping.

This is your very first closing shift at the lounge; no customers, no Azul, no sounds except for your own breathing.

And Jade's.

He smiles again. "Shall I help? You'll be done faster with another set of hands,"

He could just leave. He's not even on the clock... if this is him looping you into some ploy to get overtime, you swear...

"If you would like,"

"Excellent,"

Jade disappears into the kitchen, taking that strange air of tension with him, and returns with a rag and cleaning solution.

He's completely silent, perusing the lounge as if it were an art museum, admiring the specks and stains on each table before wiping them down.

"You seem nervous," he says merrily, not even looking at you. "Are you afraid of the dark?"

"No," a half-truth. "I'm just tired." a lie.

"I've read that many human children develop a fear of the dark. What's more, is that it's not considered irrational. How fascinating,"

You focus on the bristles of the broom in front of you. The Mostro Lounge does get rather dark at night... all of Octavinelle does.

"It's not irrational," you mutter.

"Perhaps for you. But in the sea, a child being afraid of the dark would be as silly to us as a child being afraid of sunlight would be to you,"

You pause to look out one of the windows in the lounge, the thick pane of glass separating you from the inky depths. It's almost pitch black at this hour.

Ugh. You're letting him get in your head.

You hum. "Is that why you're here, then? Protecting me from the dark?"

Jade smiles, watching you out of the corner of his eyes. "No. I was only making conversation. You seemed uncomfortable with my presence,"

"I just was expecting to be alone,"

"So was I,"

You pause, turning to him with a questioning glance.

As vague an answer as ever, you think, though there's a certain gleam in his eye that's daring you to find out for yourself.

He meets your gaze. "You interest me,"

Jade says it plainly, his tone soft, as if he thinks he might scare you away with any sudden movements.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he hums. "And I hope you understand my meaning... I do not seek to make you uncomfortable."

You set the broom against the wall. "You're not,"

He mimics you, setting the rag and bottle aside. If you didn't know any better, you could've sworn you caught a look of relief on him.

"Good. I have no malicious intentions... This time,"

You take that as a joke. It's not very funny.

Jade chuckles. "Ah, don't roll your eyes at me. I'm only lightening the mood... I would like to get to know you better, after all," he pauses. "As a confidante."

There's something oddly genuine about this.

He's as calm as ever, but you can tell there's a current of vulnerability hiding beneath the surface.

You can't help a smile at the thought.

"Not an informant, then?"

He smiles back. "Not with you, no,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader

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tealgoat · 6 months

Text

Fritters part 1! Dialogue by @wonder-of-the-stars !!!

Silly lil comic notes under line break

Page 1

-Added loops to loops speech bubbles because it's funny

-Odile's loops, do in fact, start on a Wednesday lolol

-The lil sketchy marks around Loop's neck and wrists are meant to imply a gradient/ they're in a weird it's clothes but also still skin phase.

Page 2

Loops hands out pose is supposed to mimic some of odile's in game sprites

Page 3

-Can you tell I've been reading dungeon meshi

-Fun fact I just used the initial thumbnail sketch I did for the fritters instead of cleaning up the sketch, I think it makes food look more natural/ better (in my style at least!!)

Page 4

-Tilted triangle panel was inspired by wonder! Thank you wonder

-Even angry loops still partially doing odile's hand pose

-Last 2 odile panels can be connected

-Random thing but I was struggling with that odile pose so much I just traced an old pic I did of loop lol (hey accidental parallels or whatever)

-This ones silly but with the last panel I thought it might be fun to have the gem Odile changes into a star post game in the frame- it's "something different" lol foreshadowing

Page 5

-I wanted to frame it as loop not directly being shown giving the peppers back/ still having the bag- do they give it back to her off screen? Let the peppers just sit there tauntingly refusing to eat them? Do they eat them when she leaves? Up to you!

-Loops pose is directly referencing one of their in game poses

Page 6

-Another in game pose

-Time has passed! This is the same day

#in tales of time #part 2 coming eventually #in stars and time #isat #isat spoilers #my art #in stars and time spoilers #in stars and time fanart #isat odile #isat fanart #isat loop #in tales of time au #isat au

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familyabolisher · 10 months

Note

you said that you don’t take lines of questioning / thought about “romanticizing” dark topics (SA, incest, etc.) seriously. would you mind elaborating on that? what does it mean, if anything, to romanticize? i think i get why it’s a fundamentally reactionary (or just silly?) thing to be concerned about, but would you mind elaborating on why?

thanks! your posts have been very illuminating on this sort of thing.

okay so let's talk about "romanticise" as a literary discourse for a second because there are a handful of things happening with its usage:

is the assumption that there exists a state of non-'romantic' discursive matter from which something 'romantic' is being created, and the content of the text in question is the process by which that creation is happening;

is the use of 'romantic' to describe something that appears to the viewer as desirable and attractive, thus obscuring the ways in which it is harmful/abusive/violent/&c.;

is the idea that this 'romantic' state represents something morally odious due to the ideas it might impress upon the audience about the nature of the discursive matter made 'romantic' in question.

i think it's worth breaking each of these assumptions down because i don't believe that any of them actually hold water, and i find that they in fact telegraph some pretty reactionary paradigms around literary criticism.

first is the idea that there exists discursive matter that is not "romantic," here to mean suffused with cultural narratives that render it desirable, and that the matter in question only takes on these desirable qualities after undergoing this process of "romanticisation." by this logic, the matter is in fact prediscursive; the onus of constructing a “romantic” discourse lies solely with the cultural response. when in practice, normative cultural assumptions and the media that interacts with them exist in a feedback loop relative to one another, and it surely makes more productive sense to engage with the apparently objectionable material not as an object that creates or even necessarily reifies a normative cultural standard, but that interfaces with that standard in what could potentially be any number of variant forms. this widens the scope of our response as an audience—we might well say that a depiction of XYZ was tasteless, clichéd, voyeuristic, lacked interest in the interiority of its subjects, &c. &c., just as easily as we might say that it engaged with extant cultural narratives in compelling, thoughtful, meaningful ways. we're not taking the cultural object as the didactic “creation” of a social norm—we're situating it within the norms from which it already emerged.

the second is the idea that this ‘romantic,’ aesthetically desirable construction must necessarily obscure the ways in which the subject matter is harmful (however we define ‘harmful’). i find this position v condescending, towards creator and audience alike—one way of crafting horror that can be really exceptional when done right is the total sealing-off of the narrative from any didactic intervention, any suggestion that what's being depicted is morally “wrong.” the dissonance between subject matter and audience—and/or between subject matter and creator—can be brilliant when you can have faith that that dissonance exists. audiences aren't little babies who learn our morals from our media; we're prepared to critically engage with and respond to a discourse presented to us. as i said above, doing away with this whole “romantic” sheen as an obfuscator of violence opens us up to new, more precise, more compelling readings.

the third – and imo, the most damnatory – is the suggestion that the narrative itself represents a potential site of harm due to the underlying ideology that it imposes on those who engage with it. like, we're still adopting this approach whereby we construct and engage with narratives for instructive purposes; if we see a depiction of sexual abuse that renders the abuse pleasurable, aesthetically pleasing, desirable, then we absorb this idea that sexual abuse is pleasurable and aesthetically pleasing and desirable and thus covet the position of the subject in question. i don't think this is necessarily true! i'm obviously not suggesting that we don't absorb and reproduce our cultural narratives in media – as i said in the first point, there exists a feedback loop between the two – but i think we as audiences and critics ought to think more highly of ourselves than to imagine that we are incapable of seeing some fucked up shit given an aesthetic gloss without asking why the aesthetic gloss is being used, how the creator is making use of perspective, how we might respond to it, etc. and i just don't think narratives ought to be instructive or didactic; nor do i think creators bear responsibility for how their work is received to the extent that they are obliged to orient their discourse towards a presumed impressionable individual for whom every action or aesthetic contrivance is a categorical imperative. this is the oldest and honestly the most boring debate in the book; the question of "moralism" in fiction has been done half to death by now, and i don't see any use in rehashing it to any significant extent. suffice it to say that the “moralist” approach is stultified and limited and intellectually dull.

note that nowhere in this did i say that there are never narratives that ought to be called into question for their depiction of X, Y, or Z; just that i think we need better, more precise language to defer to do when we do so. simply put, i think it's possible to make a piece of art that holds these “romantic” qualities, and doesn't have a guy walk in midway through and go “by the way, abuse is Bad/age gaps are Problematic/mental illness is Unsexy,” &c., and still greatly compel me wrt its subject matter. & that is a statement which exists in straightforward contradiction to the idea that the term “romanticise” communicates anything necessarily and inherently condemnatory about a text, so, i don't use it.

#ask

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foxyaries · 1 month

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My Shifting Story That Keeps Me Motivated To This Day

Well hello again! I think it is time I share my own "almost" success story. I know a lot of you might not be interested in reading about my ALMOST success. But trust me... the more I tink about my own story the more I realize how silly it was of me to procrastinate actually doing it for so long. It's almost funny. But let's get into it, shall we?

As I have already mentioned it in my previous posts (please do read them if you haven't already to fill in any blanks that you may or may not have). I have been at a very dark place at that time. And I didn't wanna live the way that I had for as long as I could remember, because I simply wasn't happy.. with my life or my family. And I felt like I was a good kid. And I was! So when I discovered the subliminal world.. I saw it as my escape and a way to finally become happy. And that's when the subliminal "Wake up in your desired family" came into picture.

Like I mentioned before, there were only a couple success stories under that subliminal, but at that time our community was even smaller compared to what it is now. And those 10 - 14k views was more than enough for me to believe that it was a real deal. It's a bit funny to think about it now because these days we tend to pick subliminals that has thousands and thousands and thousands of views? Am I right? :) That's how we decide whether the subliminal works or not.

Anyways.. back to my storytime. I have already mentioned in another post of mine that those success stories that I did see all said the same thing. That for them to start feeling the results it took them a couple months. And if you remember as well as I do. Back then everyone set a limiting belief that for a subliminal message to start working you need to listen to it for at least 21 days. Even tho that wasn't true, I didn't know much about shifting so I believed it. And I also wasn't desperate enough, so since the stories told me it took THEM 1 - 2 months, I figured it'd take me the exact amount of time. And I thought it was nothing compared to the future I was gonna have.

So all that I did for those couple months was listen to that subliminal at least 1 hour a day and sometimes if I could overnight with the idea that I could wake up in my desired family any given moment. Pay attention to that. I didn't set a deadline or put pressure on myself for doing anything wrong. I just listened and knew it was going to happen. When exactly? No idea. How exactly? Not a clue, but I didn't care. Because knowing less was actually more of a blessing than I thought. I had no limiting beliefs. All it did was awaken my inner child and that whole journey felt magical to me and I really looked foward to my results.

Probably a month passed by when I started getting tired around the same time, every single day so I'd take naps. At a time a half an hour nap was more than enough to make me feel rested and I'd get in the state of being awake yet asleep at the same time. You know what I am talking about. The state during which it feels like you are in and out of sleep. When the sounds feel like they are far far away and then they dissapear. It almost sounds like I was close to tapping in the void state, no? :)

So whenever I'd feel tired I'd just have one earbud in my ear and lay in whatever comfortable position I wanted to lay in. It usually was on my side. And I had no intention to shift because I KNEW it was gonna happen either way. So I'd lay down and just have myself doze off listening to my playlist (I had a couple boosters too but then I'd just loop the main subliminal). And then I started feeling unusual sensations and feelings I have never felt before. All I did was just lay there and day dream about how I was gonna wake up in my desired room and I tried imagining it in detail. How I was gonna walk out of my room and see my best friends that I was going to shift there with. And literally all I did was just loop that scene because it made me happy :')

I keep rambling haha I'm sorry. Back to what happened. I was probably a month in when I started to get tired and naking naps around the same time and suddenly my naps were different? I would just mind my own business, think about my future when suddenly I would feel this insanely strong sensation that I was being lifted off of my bed and that my body was turning and flying somewhere?? But because I didn't know exactly what it was it'd freak me out and my body would flinch. That's when I'd recover the feeling of my body back and it felt like I'd literally fall back into my bed. And I mean LITERALLY get slammed back into my body. And this wasn't a one time thing. Same thing kept happening every single day for like 2 weeks (until I got insecure and shifted my focus somehwere else as I've mentioned in another post). What's funny is that I didn't even realize what was happening. I was just like "Oh? That's a new feeling" I was just curious and wanted for it to keep happening so I could understand it better. I only realized what it was when it stopped happening all together and for that I blame myself.

But you know what? It's okay. I've learnt so much since then. And it's insane how all I did every day was look for other success stories to convince myself that this was real. When I had my own very real success story. I KNOW all fo this is real because I experienced it. And I am done looking for a confirmation from other people. I know the truth and that's enough. And you should too. You don't need any of these methods. All you need is to do whatever makes you feel comfortable and happy and that you know works for YOU. Cause what actually matters is that YOU KNOW is gonna work for you. That's all that ANY of us really need.

I know this is a lot, but if you actually read this I hope it helped and made you realize something... anything really. Be your own success story and make your dreams come true.

I believe soon you will hear about my own final success story:) Goodbye for now. Next post will be more about my fairy companion. Do look forward to that!

Much love,

Foxy ♡🦊

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piaduarte · 5 months

Text

Q & A

persisting, the 4D and letting go

Not so long ago I became stuck in a loop of wanting and waiting. Weeks passed by like minutes, and I was desperate to "get" what I "wanted"-- real desperate, I tell you. But one way or another, loops end. They do. Even if it doesn't seem like it in the moment, they always pass, and your higher self shines through. These are a couple of questions I had while at my lowest, and my answer to them now. Hope this post may be useful to someone!!

"How do I persist even if I don't see anything?"

"You just persist" is what I've been told time and time again. "Yeah, but how?" is what I shot back. And silence followed. Paraphrasing, there's this quote by Einstein I've seen around here saying that, it's when you sit with yourself in the silence you're so desperate to fill up, when you stop looking for answers, that's when you get them. It doesn't matter how many times people here tell you to persist (to decide, to know it's yours) if, when you close the app, you forget everything and go right back to the old story. Why keep entretaining a story that you don't like? It's like if you're watching a really bad movie -- you can just turn it off.

You are able to persist. It's not something supernatural that only a handful of people can do. Everyone persists in something. You are persisting in the old story, for example. "B-But... Why??? Why is my subconscious doing this to me? I want to change!! I do!". This is so silly. Why are you mad at your subconscious? There's no 'good' or 'bad' (or 'ugly') story, that's just something you add the meaning to later. Your subconscious doesn't know the difference.

In the end, it all comes down to choosing. Just one final choice (do I even need to tell you that you're the creator of all? You must know by now). When you choose -- when you accept that you have it in the 4D once you imagine it, that's who you are. And once you've chosen, you cannot just give it up. You don't need proof in the 3D when the 4D is the only reality that should matter right now. Accept that you have it and move on. Creation is finished.

"And how do I convince myself it's set in stone?"

Close your eyes right now and imagine whatever it is that you "want". You can see it. You've just experienced it within, you can't deny that. That being said, you now know creation is finished. It's done. Done. Done. Done.

The 4D is the only true reality. It's the blueprint, nothing would exist in your 3D if it wasn't for it, your old assumptions, thoughts and ideas. For you. All you need and want already exists within you. Your desires are not separate from you, so you can experience them within; your mind is not separate from you, so you can change your old patterns; your 3D is not separate from you, so you can control it! You are the 3D and the 4D, just -- different, in another form.

The 3D is not real; it is a reflection of your mind! It may feel real, look real... But just because you see from it, not beyond it; the body is experiencing the 3D, but it's when you start to look at it from the 4D that you can understand that and take it in. All you need is the 4D. And, within, you've already experienced your desire, and you don't need anything else in order to experience materialization. It is set in stone if you decide it is -- so choose.

"I want to experience 'x' now. What do I do everyday in order to get it?"

No. There's no "getting". There's no "in order to". There's no "want". From the moment you get involved in the imaginal act, creation is finished, and 'x' is already experienced. Therefore, it's done. If you're not focusing on the end, but rather on the "I want", you're in a state of lack. Shift your state. Why not? It's not hard; you're in a state now. But I get it. You want the -- 'real' experience in the 3D? You want everyone on here to stop talking in riddles and tell you what to do, because random people on the internet have more power over you than... you? Aren't you tired of chasing? Of trying? Maybe not -- enough.

But seriously, if you "want" "it" "now", persist in the knowing and go to sleep. Tell yourself it's done and it's done. Persist in the old story and that's what you "get". Persisit in the new one, and your reality shifts. After all, "nothing changes if nothing changes". Don't allow any other thought to distract you from the end. Just -- don't. Thoughts come and go, and doubts will come as well; observe them and let them go. The end will materialize in the 3D because it has already materialized in the 4D. The inner man is your true you, so be him. Be unbothered by the neutral 3D and focus on living as the inner man.

"Is this fail-proof? How do I know I'm not just wishing my life away?"

It's real if you assume it is! Now get off this app and do something! Because, who's going to do it for you? Be the inner man and continue being! It will happen! Trust yourself. Trust. Why not?

#manifesting #loa #manifesation #law of assumption #how to manifest #law of manifestation #master manifestor #law of attraction #desired life #dream life #affirm and persist #edward art #neville goddard #affirmyourreality

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aroace-poly-show · 15 days

Text

hello friends we are starting this kind of early cause i have. a lot of mutuals. so. taking in requests now for the

marlo mutual christmas/winter gift doodles

putting this above the read more so people see it: ‼️‼️you do not need to celebrate christmas for this!! if you’re one of my mutuals that doesn’t celebrate christmas but you still want one you are still included ‼️‼️and if you really don’t want one then just like the post without commenting please ‼️‼️ otherwise i might assume you just haven’t seen the post and dm you to be sure aifbksnfnd (or let me know directly. comment or dm or ask or whatever you want. i just need to know that you’ve seen it and don’t want one)

i did this last year. really simple concept. you give me a few characters you like and i will draw a silly little doodle for you and send you an ask (or dm or tag you in a post with if i can’t send it in an ask for whatever reason) on christmas day!! i will have this post queued to go up multiple times a day so hopefully people don’t miss it sorry if it gets annoying fast LMAO

some answers to potential questions and clarifications here:

-you are not required to give me a doodle in return, you can if you want but you do not have to!! there is no pressure to!!! if you do want to make a return gift though then characters i like i’ll list them at the bottom

-begging you. if we’re mutuals and you want one pleaseeeee respond in the comments. it keeps things all in one place for me, and if i am not sure whether you want one or not i will just ask you directly and i get Anxious so if you want to save yourself the trouble of me bothering you in dms for it pleaseeee don’t feel like you’re not included in this, and just comment on the post

-id appreciate like. a handful of characters you’d be happy to receive a doodle of and not just One, since i might have trouble drawing some and i don’t wanna send you a really shitty doodle or stress myself out trying to get it right in time fjnskdnsk

-they do not have to be characters i know about!! literally any you like!!

-i’m doing this really early so i can give myself enough time for it but if you change your mind on the characters before just let me know!!

ummm. if i need to add more i will. but i think that’s it for now!! praying i’ll actually be able to go through with this i am so sorry if i end up having to give stuff out late 💔💔

anyway if you really do want to give me one in return. i think i’m pretty obvious about who i like and you’re free to do others i didn’t mention here that you know i like too, but here’s a few jic anyone wants a list: anyone from wonderlands x showtime, mafuyu asahina, basil from omori, vflower, siffrin, loop, mirabelle

#mono’s stuff #christmas doodles

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mooooonnnzz · 1 year

Text

How do I do this? // Miguel O’Hara x daughter!reader

i come out of my hibernation to post a lil dad daughter fanfic of miguel trying to tie up your hair <33

۵ i kept seeing people wanting more miguel w a kid reader so I HAD TO WRITE ITTT

۵ fem reader w long/medium hair length!!

۵ short sweet n simple <33 i wrote it w a teen reader in mind but u can imagine younger too

۵ there is some spanish! although, my spanish is very rough so if i made a mistake please kindly correct me!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Miguel’s teeth clamped down on his lower lip as he thought. The gears slowly turned in his head as he stares at your untamed hair. “Okay, so what do I do again?” He looks at you through the mirror and smirks at your annoyed expression.

“Papi, I can do this myself. You know that right?” You said, eyes glancing at his hand that held the scrunchie. He was stretching it, playing with it as if it was a toy, if he’d stretch it anymore he’d snap it in half. “Don’t mess with the scrunchie like that.” Your hand reached out to snatch it away from him but he jerked his hand away. “Let me learn how to tie your hair.” Miguel frowned, using his other hand to collect your hair.

“I’m letting you, just don’t stretch it like that.” You tell him, feeling a little silly to be the one to reprimand him for his actions. How the tables have turned.

“So many instructions,” Miguel muttered, exaggeratedly rolling his eyes. “So dramatic.” You say through a chuckle.

“So I put your hair through the thing?” Miguel squints his eyes in confusion. A slight smile pulls on your lips at how clueless he looked.

“Yes, and if you need any help—“

“—I don’t need any help. I got this.”

Miguel’s eyes darted between the scrunchie that was looped around his fingers and to your hair that he had in an awkward hold. He was trying to imagine how he would put your hair through the hair band, and with each scenario, he’d go through in his head, he would come out more clueless. A small laugh slipped past your lips at his expression.

Miguel looked at you through the mirror, raising a brow. “¿Te estás riendo de mí?”

“No! No. Never.” The large smile that was threatening to shine through was getting harder and harder to conceal. The look of pure confusion on Miguel’s face was impossible to not laugh at.

“No te rias.” Miguel attempted to put on a stern voice, but it was futile. He couldn’t pretend to be mad at you, not when he’s hearing you laugh and seeing you smile. Those two things are one of the many things he loves about you.

“Do you want me to show you how to do it one more time?” Your voice was thick with amusement.

Miguel let out a defeated sigh and nodded his head. He let go of your hair and handed the band over to you. You thanked him and with quick and easy steps, you collected your hair and put it up into a ponytail. Undoing your hair, you looked at Miguel through the mirror. “Do you understand?”

Miguel’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “Hacerlo otra vez.” He instructed.

“Papi? En serio?” You put your back up again for Miguel to understand, yet he couldn’t wrap his head around the magic of you tying up your hair. “It’s not that hard, Pa.”

“To me, yes, it is hard.” Miguel grabs the scrunchie from you and tries once more to tie your hair up.

“You’re not going to get it.”

“Shh.”

The band splits into two with the sheer force of him stretching it out the moment he finally loops your hair into it.

There’s a small moment of silence where Miguel is grieving over his failure while you’re trying your hardest not to laugh.

“Me voy. Ya no quiero hacer esto.” He slumped forward in defeat as he walks out of the bathroom. You barrel over in laughter, tears pricking at the edge of your eyes. “Te lo dije!”

if anybody has anymore ideas for dad miguel pls send bc i’m willing to write them we need more platonic miguel fanfics 😭

@strbyallycow

#across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x daughter! reader #miguel o’hara x teen! reader #miguel o’hara x kid!reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #dad!miguel #miguel o’hara x daughter!reader

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2baabbies · 8 months

Text

🖤 Obsessed (Hyunjin x Reader) 🖤

Pairings: established relationship hyunjin x reader

Words: 3800

Summary: Hyunjin’s jealous streak ends with you finding him in a compromising position. AKA: in your bed, masturbating while wearing your shirt.

(somewhat inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s song by the same name; quote at the beginning also from this song)

Fluff + Smut + Humour

afab + fem!reader

CWs: jealousy (but make it cute and silly), reader is trying to make hyunjin jealous but only because it makes them both horny (and he’s a drama queen), he’s only a bit insecure, the point of contention is a big shirt but reader’s weight is not described (aka this fic is not limited to any one body size), reader and hyunjin have exes, reader lets hyunjin make assumptions that she teases him about later

Smut Tags: lots of teasing!!, (subtle) subby!hyune x dom!reader, intercourse (peanits in vagina), safe sex/use of condom, a bit of rough sex/uncomfortable position, reader has a kink for hyunjin’s desperation, begging, hair pulling, overstim, slight dumbification of reader, slightly pervy!hyune (smelling your clothes), hyunjin masturbates in your shirt (described in detail), little bit of voyeurism, bit of cum eating

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

‘And I know you love me, and I know it's crazy

But every time you call my name, I think you mistake me for her

You both have moved on, you don't even talk

But I can't help it, I got issues, I can't help it, baby’

It takes Hyunjin’s brain a second to register that something is wrong, and a second after that to actually take a look at himself and attempt to decipher what feels so off. He is still buffering when you return to your bedroom. You giggle at his bedhead and the cute expression on his face as he grabs the hem of his shirt and holds it up. He thought he had grabbed his white tshirt off the floor, and in his morning daze he had actually grabbed one of yours that you were too lazy to throw in the morning laundry. The graphic tee is far too big on him, even hanging off his shoulder, but you get a good look at the boxers he pulled on seconds before thanks to his hands lifting it up above his stomach. He drops the material and it falls down over his lap, unfortunately covering his soft tummy and pale thighs. He looks up then blinks away his sleep as you enter with a basket of clean laundry. You hold up his shirt and you giggle again at his sleepy smile.

“Looking for this?”

He nods and watches you drop the basket on the bed. You pull each freshly washed garment out for him and he shuffles over to loop his arms around your waist from behind.

“You let me sleep in…”

“You wouldn’t get up, sleeping beauty.”

He huffs and pecks the nape of your neck.

“You didn’t try hard enough…”

“Mhm, sure. You look cute in that.”

You admire him over your shoulder as he leans back and plucks the baggy fabric between his fingers.

“It doesn’t fit me…”

“I think that’s where the cuteness comes in.”

“I’m always cute…”

“That… I don’t disagree with that.”

He chuckles and turns you around so he can properly embrace you. You smile at him and nudge your noses together with a fond smile. He hums and nuzzles back gently, drawing your body tight to his with a content sigh.

“It’s so cozy… How come I hardly see you wearing it?”

You fail to realize at first that he is back to talking about the shirt, and take a moment of silence to contemplate his question.

“I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty, I try to put something cleaner on when I know you’re coming over.”

You both laugh at your honesty.

“It’s really soft.”

“Well, I’d offer to buy you one but I don’t know where it came from.”

“What do you mean?”

“Someone left it over a while ago…”

You do not regret the words when they leave your mouth, but you can do little to fight your smirk as Hyunjin’s lips draw into a tight line. He then purses his lips and puffs his cheeks in a dramatic pout.

“Who?”

“Don’t be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. Tell me who.”

You roll your eyes. Hyunjin was privy to the history of all your exes, situationships, and sexual escapades. You knew about his too. It had been relieving to be able to talk so candidly about your experiences with him, and it definitely allowed the two of you to become close early on in your relationship. There was something therapeutic about snuggling with your lover and bitching about the ones that let you down.

It did not, however, curb Hyunjin’s jealousy in the slightest. He knew their names, how long you were together, if you still talked, he even knew where some of them lived and worked. It would be alarming if you had not both offered all that information to each other willingly. And you knew, ultimately, Hyunjin would never restrict you from having a friendship with any of the exes you still talked to. Although you would never admit it, you treated his jealousy as a testament of his love. He only cared so much because he cared about you. Besides, it was a natural emotion, and the fact that he was willing to be so emotionally available did more for you than anything your exes ever did.

“We don’t even talk anymore, Hyune. I don’t think she’s even in this country.”

“She. She. Oh god, I know who it is.”

“No, you don’t-”

He falls out of your arms and to the bed with a heavy thud, wailing incoherently as you observe his theatrics.

“She’s the worst!”

“Well, that’s why we’re not friends anymore…”

He suddenly thrashes and tears the shirt off with an animalistic grunt. You cock your eyebrow up and watch him roll around in vain when it gets stuck on his chin. He manages to pull it off and whips it at the floor, breathless after his performance.

“Are you okay?” You ask.

“I can’t believe you let me wear her shirt.”

You scoff.

“Firstly, you’re the one that put it on. Secondly, it’s my shirt. She left it. Finders keepers.”

“I feel dirty.”

“You’re fine. And overreacting.”

You kneel on the edge of the bed and crawl up so you are sitting in his lap. He huffs and looks at you with a miserable expression.

“Why did you keep her shirt?”

“Because it’s a nice shirt, and I like it.”

“Get rid of it.”

“I will not. But, I’ll wear it less if that makes you feel better.”

“No. It doesn’t.”

You giggle.

“You’re being silly, Hyune.”

He looks away pointedly and you guide him back to face you by gripping his jaw. He swallows thickly as you, slowly, lean in to hover your face over his. You feel his shuddery breath on your lips, and bite down seductively to muffle the satisfied hum you release when you feel him hardening beneath you. He glares and scrunches his face with faux distaste as you dance your fingers up his stomach, then graze your thumb over one of his nipples. He shivers and finally lets the act drop, his annoyance melting into arousal as you peck shyly at his lips.

“Hyune,” You purr, “It’s okay if you’re jealous.”

“I-I know…”

You reward his cooperation with a teasing lick into his mouth, and carefully circle his nipple with light pressure. He whines and bucks up against you.

“You know how special you are to me. I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too,” He whimpers.

You respond with a sultry chuckle and begin stripping off your clothes.

There was a part of you that adored Hyunjin’s jealousy. It made him whiny, and needier for your affection. You would deny it vehemently if he ever called you out on it, but his desperation for your validation could have you dripping in seconds. So, it was a bit of a game between you. For the majority of the following week, Hyunjin would pretend he was unbothered when he saw you wearing that shirt. In turn, you would pretend that you were accidentally choosing it over all your other pajama options. While it may have been a bit unfair- or even mean- on your part to watch him squirm and stifle his complaints each time you pulled it on, it did not weigh on your conscience. You love each other; you trust he will let you know when his limit has been met.

And he does.

“Take it off.”

“Ha-ah,” Your eyes roll as you mumble back, “Hn?”

Your mind is fuzzy. Hyunjin has your ankles hooked over his shoulders and his cock pressed deep inside you. Your arms are limp above your head, fists clenching in the pillow supporting you. You tilt your head back with a moan as his hips rock against the back of your thighs in a steady rhythm.

“Baby, take it off, please.”

His fingers are curled in the hem of the white shirt, lifting it up as he ruts himself into your warmth. You huff out a laugh and tilt your head back to face him. You moan as you take in his heady groans and pleading eyes. His plump lips are parted to exhale a whine and his cheeks are impossibly flushed. You clench when he makes another pathetic noise and shoves his face into your neck. You smirk as your shirt gets rucked up to your breasts.

“I-I’m cold, Hyune.”

“Please. Please, please, please.”

He draws back and now you whine as his movements falter.

“Hyunjin?”

He raises his head and pouts, eyes teary as he looks at you. You shudder, feeling your heat gush at the sight. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm, and your mind is scrambled with the intent to chase that high. You roll your hips and he gives a shaky thrust in return.

“Don’t make me beg, darling. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Mhm! M’okay, take it- take it off, Hyune.”

His touch is deft as you lift your arms and he slips the shirt over your head. He throws it behind him, then draws a gasp from you when he repositions himself above you. Your mouth is agape in pleasure when he starts thrusting again, legs folded to your chest as he plows you into the mattress. You are thankful for the pillow, otherwise your head would be banging against the headboard. His tip almost kisses your cervix and you let out a breathless wail as humps into you, following each precise thrust with steadily rising groans. You reach up to thread your fingers in his hair and bring him in for a kiss. Your toes curl as his body melts into yours, and you finally reach your climax. You share more consuming kisses as he fucks you through your orgasm.

Hyunjin is soon following you, getting sloppier in his movements as his pleasure increases. He leans away, just enough to let you catch your breath. Your legs are trembling from the strain, and now from the overstimulation of his cock filling your fluttering cunt. He shakes his head when stray hairs stick to his skin and fall into his eyes, and you lovingly tuck each one out of the way.

“Hyune…”

“G-Good?”

“Mhm,” You nod and quiver, “M’good. Can’t think.”

He laughs and leans down to peck your lips. For a moment it looks like he has a quip lined up, but he just snuggles his head into your chest and lets out a ruined moan. You giggle as his thrusts stutter, then he lazily rolls his hips into you with a relieved hum. You let him ride out his release, kissing the crown of his head and playing with his hair as he lets out little moans and sighs of pleasure. When he finally stills, you reach between your bodies and gently push on his chest.

“Ah-ahn…”

“Hyune, you’re squishing me.”

“Hah, sorry.”

He groggily rises and lets your legs fall out of their tense position. You help him slip off the condom and discard it in the trash bin beside your bed. Your legs are numb, and you are a little shuddery all over from the lingering overstimulation. Hyunjin helps you get comfortable then melts into your waiting arms. You resume kissing and caressing him slowly as he tucks the two of you under the blanket and settles on top of you. He rubs his dumpling cheek over your heart and smiles when you giggle at him.

“I love you,” He murmurs, “You okay?”

You nod.

“I’m good, baby. I love you, too. You always make me feel so good.”

“Mhm, I’m sorry I was rough.”

Hyunjin massages your hips and gently squeezes your thighs. You hum and brush your fingers through his hair, tidying his mussed locks and ridding it of tangles.

“You don’t have to be sorry, babe. I loved it. You were perfect.”

“You’re perfect.”

He leans up to share a sweet kiss, stroking your cheek as your lips meld together. When you part, he pecks your chin then lets his lips trail down your neck. Your eyes flutter and you exhale peacefully as exhaustion overtakes you. Still, you stay awake when he brushes his lips over your ear and whispers to you.

“Thank you, for taking it off.”

“Mhm. Jealous baby.”

He whines at your teasing tone.

“You’re so mean.”

“And you’re ridiculous,” You murmur as you drift off, “But I still love you. You’re my favourite boy. My one and only.”

He nods and pecks your cheek. “I know. You’re my one and only, too, baby.”

The morning arrives peacefully. You wake up before your alarm, and enjoy a few minutes of admiring Hyunjin’s sleeping visage before you slip out of bed to get ready for the day. He is still sleeping after you finish your routine, completely undisturbed as you get dressed and check your phone. You still have some time before you have to go, so you sit beside him on the bed and card your fingers through his hair as you scroll through your phone. He stirs and looks up at you blearily when you run your thumb down the bridge of his nose.

“Mh?”

“Good morning, baby,” You peck his forehead, “I have to go out. I have a couple errands to run. I won’t be long, okay?”

“Mhhm.”

You tuck him in and kiss his temple as he nuzzles his face into a pillow. You giggle and leave with a fond smile.

Hyunjin wakes later, before you return, and pats the empty space beside him until he realizes you are not there. He rolls onto his back to look around and swipes a hand over his face as he fights his disorientation. Eventually, he vaguely remembers you kissing him goodbye earlier when he was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. Unfortunately for him, he has no clue when that was or how much longer it will be until you get home. He lets out a frustrated sigh for no one but himself and eases himself out of bed. He pulls on his boxers, finding them among the pile of other clothes hastily discarded when the two of you fell into bed the night before, and shuffles to the bathroom.

He is a bit more awake when he returns to your bedroom, and pauses as it registers in his vision. White fabric, carelessly casted to the floor, sitting atop your panties and his hoodie. He scoffs at it, so it will know how he disapproves of it gracing his presence, and crosses the room to pick it up off the floor. He had not cared to look at the white tee any more closely once the idea of you wearing someone else’s clothes crossed his mine, but he is drawn to dissecting it now. He does not recognize the print on the front, some band or characters you never mentioned, but he does admire it a bit now. Ultimately, he understands why you kept the shirt on an objective level. It is nice, albeit a little worn, and there is nothing aesthetic-wise that he dislikes about it.

Hesitantly, he toys with it before bringing it to his nose. He gives a tentative sniff as he recalls your words from a week ago. I wear it all the time. I think it’s just always dirty. The shirt definitely did not smell like fresh laundry, or whatever he was expecting it to smell like. It smells like you. He cannot place it, there is a mix of familiar smells invading his senses; the remnants of your body wash, a hint of the candle you light after stressful days, the trace of your hot scent that drives him crazy during your intimate moments. His eyelids flutter and he groans, pressing the fabric to his nose and inhaling deeper. He recalls how comfortable the shirt was to wear before he learned of its origins, and begrudgingly pulls it on before crawling back in bed.

Missing you is torture for him during the rare moments he wakes up alone in your bed, but wearing your shirt settles his loneliness for a bit. That is, until he gets restless again. He could go find his phone, wherever he abandoned it when you two started getting handsy the night before, but he is already so comfortable under the covers. The only thing missing is you. He pulls the collar up over his nose and breathes in, momentarily subdued by the illusion of being enveloped by you. Then he remembers the vision of you from last night, wearing this same shirt and taking him so dutifully in this same bed. He groans and curses himself, reaching down to palm over his growing erection. The shirt, still too big for him, adds an extra obstacle between him and relief as he strokes himself leisurely. He shucks his boxers off under the blanket and reaches under the shirt to grasp his cock firmly. He groans and gives himself a rough squeeze before jerking himself slowly.

One hand holds the shirt up over his nose while the other roams over his length. He wishes it was you. He bucks his hips up at the thought of you touching him and puffs sharply into the shirt. He squirms, the tip of his cock rubs against the inside of the shirt with every stroke and creates a delicious amount of friction. It is so soft, gliding against him without any discomfort and very little resistance. His hips jump again and he has to clutch the base of his cock to stop himself from climaxing too quickly. He discovers that he can taste your scent stronger if he inhales through his mouth, and before too long is panting desperately as he thrusts into his fist. He is too hot now, and kicks off the blanket before resuming the rhythm of sucking in deep breaths while fucking into his own hand.

He is almost there now, possibly on the verge of cumming faster than any other time he has touched himself. He watches his cock strain under the shirt through his eyelashes, and whines when his precum begins wetting a spot in the white fabric. It sticks to him now, turning a bit translucent where his arousal beads through the material. His eyes pinch shut and he controls himself again. He does not want to finish so quickly. This feeling of pleasure is new to him, being smothered in your scent and comfort with the perfect sensation helping him get off. The only thing that might compare is actually getting to fuck you, but this is so different.

He cannot edge himself any longer, the pleasure that has been pooling has become too much. He begins jerking himself faster, ignoring the dry scrape of his unlubed palm on his shaft. He collects some of his precum and uses that to ease his motions. It helps just enough and allows him to reach his climax without further hesitation. He cries out and pants out a series of whimpering moans as his cum shoots out in thick spurts.

You lean in the doorway, watching his release soak through the fabric and further dampen the spot over his cock. You had been watching since he kicked the blanket away. In fact, you knew what he was doing when you entered the apartment and heard his soft moans ringing out in the silence. What you had not expected was walking in on the scene before you- but you were far from disappointed. You let Hyunjin recover a bit before speaking up. He tugs down the collar of the shirt and heaves in a much needed breath.

“I thought you didn’t like that shirt?”

He jumps and throws his palm over his face.

“Fuck.”

You laugh as his other hand slips guiltily out from under the shirt and falls limp on the bed, a bit of his cum sticking between his fingers. You saunter over to the bed, leaning in to run your hand up the inside of his leg as you walk up alongside him. He shivers and peeks at you through his fingers, chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. Your hand takes his wrist from where it lies on the bed, you hold him firmly as you ease down to straddle his lap. You hold up his messy fingers, almost in admiration, and meet his gaze as you suck them into your mouth. He groans and lets his other hand drop so he can watch you lap each one clean. Your lip twitches as you guide his fingers over your lips, smearing your spit as you lead him to cup your cheek.

“Well?”

“Huh? Oh, the shirt, right,” You giggle and silently urge him to reply, “I-It’s alright. I still don’t like it.”

“Really? You seem to like it, at least a little bit.”

You pry the shirt up from where it has begun to stick to his cock and he hisses. You tilt your head and run your thumb over the patch of soiled fabric thoughtfully.

“O-Only because it smells like you.”

“Oh? Is that it? Are you still jealous?”

Hyunjin sets his jaw and avoids your gaze for a moment as he licks his lips nervously.

“I don’t know…”

“Be honest, Hyune.”

His eyes flick shyly to yours.

“It’s not easy just to… not be jealous. You know that.”

“Mhm…”

You move up his lap, not caring when you settle onto the dirty patch or his oversensitive cock. He watches with a worried frown as you brace your hands on either side of his head and lean over him.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Yes,” He breathes, looking up at you expectantly.

“You’re jealous over someone who I never had feelings for, and who never got to touch me.”

His eyes widen then narrow.

“But, y-you said your ex left it!”

“Ah-ah- I said ‘someone’ left it behind. You were the one who assumed I was ever into that person.”

He puffs his cheeks and glares softly.

“You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie, I just didn’t correct you. You shouldn’t have assumed you knew who forgot it.”

“You set me up.”

You laugh.

“I set you up? For what? To catch you jerking off in my shirt?”

“Yes!”

Your laughter intensifies and Hyunjin fights his smile. He looks embarrassed, face still flushed, but the twinkle in his eye as you become breathless above him seems to signify his ease with the circumstances. You sigh happily and lean down to reward him with a deep kiss, which he eagerly returns.

“How about we get you clean, hm?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You giggle and tug at the shirt playfully.

“And I’ll get our shirt washed up.”

“Yeah, you let it go too long. It’s way too dirty to wear now.”

You snort.

“Okay, actually, you can wash your own messes.”

He grins.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Hyune.”

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