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#make PERFECT sense to me in my head when i don't think too much about it
purplesuitcowboy · 2 days
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cw: dubious consent, fauxcest, double penetration, free use
"I don't have any cash on me," her step-father, Thomas, told the frazzled young man at the cash register.
"But, I have this,” he said. He jostled the young women who stood beside him for emphasis. Quinn offered up weak protest from behind the ball gang in her mouth. She hated when he did shit like this. Ever since he’d figured out that she’s dabbled in selling nudes online, how he was able to tell if was her when she hadn’t even shown her face was beyond her, he’d been strong arming her into all sorts of shit under the threat of disclosing her little business endeavor to her mother.
Her mother had always been a bit of a prude and if she found out, Quinn would be kicked out of the house for sure and her sizable inheritance would be reduced to 0. She was sure that she could find a place to stay if she got kicked out but losing out on her inheritance was simply not an option. She gone along with his demands which had started as head in the parking lot of his job and had quickly ballooned out of proportion from there.
As it turned out, Thomas was a bit of a kinky bastard but he couldn’t live out his fantasies with her mother so he used her instead. Quinn was almost positive that Thomas preferred it that way. Even before their little agreement, he’d always told her that she had a body built of sex and that she’d make a man very happy one day. This had been very, very weird then but she had ignored it. He made her mother so happy that Quinn had just written off his comments as personality quirks. They hadn’t been. They were the truest expressions of his wishes and desires.
In a sick way, she was perfect for him. She was just as much as a freak as she was, got just as turned on by their slinking around as he did. She just had the good sense to be ashamed and embarrassed by it. Quinn tried not to think about the fact that she was helping her step-father cheat on her mother. Surely, finding out that this had been happening behind her back was worse then Quinn selling her nudes online. Either way, she was a coward because she said nothing and continued fucking her mother’s husband.
Quinn was trapped between her step-father’s bulk and the edge of the counter. Already, she could feel the beginnings of his hard on against her ass. Thomas held her tightly, securing her arms behind her back. He pushed her towards the counter, forcing her to lean awkwardly over it. The precarious position highlighted her generous bust which was barely being contained by her the low neckline of her short dress. Her hardened nipples could be easily seen through the thin material. She briefly made eye contact with the cashier but quickly averted her gaze, deeply embarrassed by the situation. Despite her embarrassment and shame, she feel heat begin too bloom between her legs as she felt the cashiers eyes on her tits. She didn’t have to see his face to know that he liked what he saw. In her minds eye, she could already imagine these men sharing her body, fucking her holes and filling her with their cum. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.
"Oh, I'm not sure I can..I don't, uh,..."
"Come on," he paused, squinting at the young man's name tag. "Gordon? Damn, what did your parents give you an old man name like that for? Anyway, you're gonna pass up a fuck with a pretty young thing like my stepdaughter here. You like girls don't you, son?"
The young man nodded, rendered completely speechless by the situation. He saw a lot of weird shit during his shifts at the convenience store -especially during the late shift- but this was really taking the cake. He thought that the pair were odd when they walked in but he hadn’t thought much of it until they’d gotten to the counter.
"Well then give 'em a feel,” the old man jeered. “You're gonna make her feel bad if you don't. You're gonna make her think somethings wrong with her tits. You don't want that do you."
Thomas pulled down the top of Quinn’s dress, freeing her tits from their confines. Roughly, he grabbed one of her breasts, massaging it with his hand. Quinn whimpered in response. With Thomas’s grip on her loosened, she freed one of her arms and used it to prop herself up on the counter. Hesitantly, the cashier reached forward to gently fondle one of Quinn’s tits.
“Come on, kid!” Thomas exclaimed. “Grab it like you mean it. None of that pussy shit now.”
The cashier nodded and with renewed vigor, grabbed Quinn’s breasts, kneading them with his hands. Her eyes fluttered shut and she seemed to push her tits out as if offering herself up to him. The edge of the counter dug into her hip but she barely noticed. Gordon could feel his dick harden against his thigh as he fondled her. Her skin was soft beneath his finger tips, and her nipples were red and rosy like the cherry on top of an ice cream sunday. Looking at them, at her, made his mouth water. Emboldened, he leaned forward and took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it and rolling it with his tongue. Quinn moaned, drool gathering on the ball gag and dripping down her chin to her chest. Thomas watched as the cashier lavished Quinn’s tits with attention. He slipped a hand between her thighs, fingers gently rubbing against her slick folds. He loved have easy access to her pussy so she rarely wore panties around him. Another whine escaped Quinn’s lips as she tried to rock her cunt against his fingers.
“Yeah, you like that don’t you baby. Your little pussy is so wet,” he told her, voice almost loving.
He plunged two fingers into her cunt, slowly pumping them in and out. His hand was quickly covered in her juices as he continued to fuck her with his fingers, first one and then two and three. Gordon paused his ministrations and cocked his head to the side, watching enrapt as the older man fingered Quinn’s cunt. His fingers were shiny with her juices as he pumped them in and out of her hole. With every attempt to pull out, Gordon could see the walls of her cunt tightly clenched around his fingers, seemingly unwilling to let them leave the hot, wet channel. If Gordon had any blood left in his body, it had all rushed to his cock. It throbbed painfully in his shorts begging for attention. He’d been hard for a while but it was becoming almost unbearable. He let go of Quinn’s tits and pushed her out of the way so he could hop the counter to join them on the other side. Seeing movement out of the corner of his eye, Thomas stopped finger fucking Quinn’s pussy to watch the cashier volt over the counter to join them. He took a step back and, tugging at her hip with a wet hand, pulled her back to give the young man room to stand.
Eagerly, Quinn leaned towards the cashier. She braced herself on him, holding onto his hip with one hand. With her other hand, she pulled down the zip of his shorts and pulled out his harden cock. Her eyes widened as she admired its size and thickness. The cashier reached for the ball gag, pulling it out of her mouth. Her eyes locked onto his, she took his thumb into her mouth, running her hot tongue along the tip and sucking on it lightly.
“Fuck” the cashier said, breathless.
Dutifully, Quinn took his cock into her mouth. The cashier groaned, as his cock was enveloped by the wet, heat of Quinn’s mouth. She took him deep until the head of his cock tapped the back of her throat. Her eyes watered but she didn’t gag, instead, she breathed heavily out of her nose trying to steady her breathing.
“Atta girl,” Thomas told her. “Show him how well I’ve trained you. Fuck her throat, son. Don’t worry. She can take it.”
She seemed to gurgle something in the affirmative. He placed his hands on the top of her head and steadily began to fuck her throat. Thomas was right. Quinn forced herself to relax and use her. After a couple of thrust, she pulled her head away, gasping for breath, before she took his cock back in her mouth. As she serviced the cashiers cock, Thomas helped himself to her pussy. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. Giving himself a few strokes, he lined himself up with her cunt. He rubbed his shaft against the lips of her pussy, coating himself in her juices, before he slowly began to push his thick cock into her waiting hole. It didn’t seem to matter how much he fucked her, her cunt felt as tight as it had the first time that he’d had her. He groaned as pushed inch after inch into her cunt until he was seated to the hilt. The two men quickly found a good rhythm using her body, one pulling out while the other pushed in and vise versa.
Adjusting her hold on Gordon, Quinn steadied herself on one hand so she could slip the other between her legs to rub at her tender clit. It didn’t take long before she was writhing and cumming on Thomas’s cock. As she came, her cunt tightened around his shaft and Thomas quickly found himself emptying his load into her cunt. Gordon came soon after. He tried to pull out of Quinn’s mouth to cum on her chest but she held him tight forcing him to cum into her mouth. He pulled out of her lips and she opened her mouth, showing him his load on her tongue before she swallowed.
“You’re not done are you?” she asked, looking up at the cashier with big doe eyes.
The cashier looked down at her, a look of awe on his face. Surely, she was a succubus or some other worldly being. He’d never met a woman with the sexual appetite this one seemed to. He worried that she would suck his soul out of his cock and that he would happily let her do it. Sharing her with her stepfather was a bit strange, but he’d cum so hard it hardly seemed to matter at that point as long as he got to fuck her again. Thomas laughed behind her and slapped her ass, earning him a squeak of surprised from Quinn.
“Horny slut.”
“Please?” she said to the cashier, ignoring her stepfather. “I want to have your cock in my pussy.”
“He can fuck your pussy but I want to fuck your ass while he does it.”
“Uh, yeah. Okay,” Gordon responded, eyes never leaving Quinn.
Thomas pulled out of Quinn’s cunt and unceremoniously picked her up off of her feet. The head of his cock teased her asshole. She reached down and helped to push his cock into her hole, toes curling as his cock filled her ass. Thomas held her with her back again his chest and his hands on her ass. Her legs were open showing off her cunt, still leaking Thomas’s cum, to Gordon’s gaze. Thinking with his lower head, Gordon stepped between her legs and pushed his cock into her waiting hole. Between her juices and Thomas’s left over cum, Gordon’s cock slid in easily.
“Oh my god,” Quinn said with a groan, closing her eyes and learning her head back on Thomas’s shoulder.
“So… fucking…tight,” Thomas said, reeling from the sensation of her ass clenched around him with the additional tightness added from Gordon’s cock in her cunt.
Thomas and Gordon scrambled to adjust their shared grip on her body. Thomas adjusted his grip on her ass and Gordon grabbed hold of her thighs. Working together, they worked to bounce Quinn on their cocks while also attempting to thrust into her holes. It was an awkward process but it felt so good that it didn’t even matter. Quinn had never felt so full in her life. She felt as if any moment she might just combust. It was painful and uncomfortable but so pleasurable.
She opened her eyes and lifting her head off of Thomas’s shoulder, leaned forward to capture Gordon’s mouth in a kiss. He swiped at her bottom lip with his tongue and she opened up her mouth, allowing him to intertwine his tongue with her’s. He was so wrapped up in kissing her that he stopped thrusting which made it much easier for Thomas to hammer his cock into her ass. With a free hand, Quinn reached down to rub her sensitive clit. She moaned against Gordon’s lips as she came. Her body went ridged in his arms as she rode out her orgasm. Greedy, she continued to furiously rub her clit, pushing herself to another orgasm.
“Fuck,” Thomas exclaimed as he felt her clench around him. “Fuck!”
Her asshole was so snug around him that he could hardly move but it was fine, the rhythmic clenching of her hole as she orgasmed guided him to his release. He stood there for a moment, reeling from the sensation. Finally, he braced himself and slowly pulled out of her ass. His cum leaked out of her hole in the absence of his cock but he used his thick fingers to fuck it back in.
Frank no longer right behind her. Gordon lowered her to her feet and turned her, bending her over the counter so he could finish himself off. Frank’s softening cock seemed to wake back up at the sight and he stroked it idly while he watched Gordon roughly pound her from behind until he came deep in her cunt. Gordon took a step back and the two men admired the sight of Quinn’s sloppy, cum covered holes.
“So, I’m good to take the cigarettes, right?”
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straykats · 24 days
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if i was able to articulate everything in my head,,,, u guys would start unfollowing me bc of how much i'd talk
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s0dium · 2 months
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Warning: Gojo has really bad breeding/pregnancy kink
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You have an inkling that Gojo Satoru is trying to get you pregnant.
You weren't sure at first, but the subtle clues began to add up. The way he insisted on being close to you during your most fertile days, his knowing smiles whenever you mentioned the future, and the way he would tenderly ask about your health and if you were taking any medications. And then of course, the fucking.
He is absolutely relentless. He reels his hips back just enough so his fat tip barely leaves your warm cunny, the anticipation building as you brace yourself. In an instant, he slams them forward, hard and fast right into your cervix. It's like he is trying to bring you and himself to the edge as fast as possible. And what you don't know is that he is, and after that, he will start all over again.
At the start he is able to keep his composure. But as he thrusts deeper, Jesus, when he feels, like, really fucking feels how warm and tight your pussy is, he starts to crumble like sand. Seeing you beneath him, your eyes glassy with tears from the intensity, your lower lip trembling as soft moans escape you, stirs something primal within him. It makes his body kick into auto-pilot as his head fills with thoughts only on filling you.
"F-feel so good baby," Gojo will groan into your ear as he rolls his hips into you. "S-shit I cant-" he gasps when you squeeze his length, your pussy squeezing him in a vice grip. That's when the babbling starts.
His mind is too hazy with euphoria to actually realize what he is saying but once he starts he can't stop; "Gonna cum in you baby, gonna cum in you and make you a mommy yeah?" He groans and throws his head back, sweat dripping now his neck, Adams's apple bobbing and mouth open as he pants for air.
"Come on answer me baby" He's not a whining man but here he is stumbling over his words like a school boy because of how good he feels right now. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how you wanna be a mommy, how you wanna have my babies"
You know you should say no. You really do, but you just cant stop yourslef. "I do, I do I do" you babble, the words strung out on your lips from how good he is fucking you. Each of his thrusts sends electric shocks through your veins, the delicious friction of his cock setting your nerves alight. He fills you completely, stretching you to a blissful fullness that borders on too much, yet exactly what you crave. The way he moves within you, deep and relentless, drives you to the edge of sanity. His intensity, the raw power behind each movement, makes you feel cherished and claimed all at once. The euphoria builds, each stroke stoking the fire within you, each moment of fullness punctuated by a hunger for more. The collision of his dick against your cervix has you seeing colors. His motions are fluid due to how wet you are and his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit so so so perfectly, driving you closer near the edge.
He moans at your words. God you were so perfect, you were going to be the perfect mother he can practically see it now; your cute belly bump, your tits round and plump with milk. He thinks that you would have to pry him off your nipple because god once he gets a test of you he won't be able to stop. Everything feels so good, he is practically seeing colors, oh god he is close he is so close-
"Fuck!" Gojo's hip stutter and his grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. As the warm, sticky liquid fills your cunt, a surge of intense pleasure washes over you. The sensation is both overwhelming and deeply satisfying, and enough to bring you over the edge. Your pussy spasms from the pleasure and a white ring of cum forms around his dick from how tight the fit is.The warmth spreads, a comforting yet exhilarating feeling that envelopes your senses, leaving you awash in a blissful glow.
Maybe a baby with Gojo wouldn't be so bad.
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jensthwa · 2 months
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show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).
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part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.
SUMMARY:
After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?
PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.
GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.
WORD COUNT: 11k.
WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!
NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3
POSTED: july 28th 2024.
TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay
masterlist.
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When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 
It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 
Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 
The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 
The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 
You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 
It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 
When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 
Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 
A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 
The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worned out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 
The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 
The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 
His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 
There's no getting rid of me either, love.
We'll figure it out. 
Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 
Yeah, you'll figure it out.  
And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 
You are fucked. 
It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 
“Mingi is driving you, right?” 
“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 
“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 
Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 
“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 
“R-right.” 
He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 
Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 
“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 
“You made it, dear.” 
“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 
You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.
Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 
Maybe not the smartest option. 
If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—
Someone's texting you. 
> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 
Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 
So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 
The casual texting annoys you. 
Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 
Oh, maybe that's why. 
But it ticks you off either way. 
Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?
Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 
It doesn't make any sense. 
You hit send. 
> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 
Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.
> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 
Oh. 
Not casual texting. At. All. 
Or maybe it is? 
Ugh.
Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 
Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 
And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.
Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 
Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 
They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.
The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 
Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 
That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 
Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.
You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  
Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 
Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 
God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 
Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 
“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 
Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 
“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 
“And make sure to—” 
“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 
They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 
He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 
Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 
“I was just making sure that he—” 
“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 
“Alright. Love you, take care!” 
“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 
When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 
“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 
“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 
“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 
When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 
“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 
Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 
“You can help me with that.” 
“Can I now?” 
“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 
Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 
“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 
A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 
Nothing has changed. 
Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.
So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into an hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 
Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 
You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 
“You made it!” 
“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 
Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 
You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 
If Seonghwa caughts the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 
“Mingi!” 
What the hell is she doing here? 
Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 
She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 
Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 
Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 
She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 
Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 
“Well fuck me, am I right?” 
“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on you shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 
If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 
“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 
“You can't possibly know that.” 
“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 
He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 
“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 
“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 
San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 
“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 
“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 
“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 
“We're just friends now!” 
“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 
Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 
Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 
Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 
You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 
Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 
He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 
Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 
You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 
“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 
“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 
Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 
“Who is sh—” 
“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 
Huh?! 
You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 
The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 
“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 
Great, that didn't work either. 
“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 
“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 
“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 
“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 
Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 
“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 
Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 
“Sure thing.” 
You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 
This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 
He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 
So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 
Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 
When your tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 
“What the fuck, Mingi?” 
Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 
“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 
“People usually knock!” 
“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 
You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 
But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 
Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 
“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 
You let out a sigh. 
“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 
“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 
“Cool.” 
He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 
“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 
It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 
“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 
He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 
“What's so amusing?” 
At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.
“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 
He's such a guy sometimes. 
“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 
“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 
“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 
He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 
He keeps his mouth shut. 
“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 
“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 
“Mingi, don't say that!” 
“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 
“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 
“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  
“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 
“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 
“You don't even know her name, love.” 
“That's not the fucking point!” 
He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.
Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 
That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 
Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 
You hate it. 
You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 
Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 
And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 
When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 
“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 
You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 
Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 
“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 
“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 
“Did something happen or…?” 
What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 
“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 
“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 
“Ye—” 
“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 
Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 
Immature. Petty. Rude. 
You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 
You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 
As he should be. 
You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 
The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 
You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 
“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 
Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 
“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”
“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 
He's angry. Shit. 
You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 
When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 
The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 
You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 
But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 
“You shouldn't have bothered.” 
“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 
Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”
“Did I stutter or something?” 
“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 
“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 
The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 
“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 
That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 
The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 
Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 
“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 
Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 
“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 
Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?
“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 
You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 
What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  
“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 
“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 
“She didn't even say hi to me!” 
“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 
What? 
“W-what?” 
“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 
You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 
“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 
Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 
So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 
Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 
“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 
Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 
When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 
When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 
And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 
You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 
This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 
Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 
You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 
“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 
“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 
“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 
“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 
“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 
“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 
His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 
So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 
“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.
The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 
You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 
There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 
You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 
His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 
“This goddamn dress, love.” 
Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 
“Been thinking about it all day…” 
“It worked, by the way.” 
“Woo?” 
“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 
“And Jongho?” 
“Probably plotting against me right now.” 
He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 
Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 
“Worked on you, too.” 
He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 
“Oh?” 
A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 
“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 
This is it. 
Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 
“I love you, Mingi.” 
He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if its too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 
“I love you too, Y/N.”
And his does too. 
You kiss him until it hurts. 
He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 
The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 
It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 
And then it doesn't. 
The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 
He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 
You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and let his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 
Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 
“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 
When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 
He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 
Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 
“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 
“Fuck, Mingi…” 
“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 
“Y-yes.” 
Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 
Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 
He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.
Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 
“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 
“Mingi…” 
“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 
“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 
“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 
He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 
What a tease. 
So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 
Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 
You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 
But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 
He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 
“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 
And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 
He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 
Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 
“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 
You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.
He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 
“You don't have to, love.” 
“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 
He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 
That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 
Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 
Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 
Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 
He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.
“Just like that, love.” 
To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 
Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 
The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick to touch being your hand. 
You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.
The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 
You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 
There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 
“Condom. Now.” 
He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 
Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 
Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 
He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 
“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 
You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 
Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 
“Baby… Harder.” 
“Yeah?” 
Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 
“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 
In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 
“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 
The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 
It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 
“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 
Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 
He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 
There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 
Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 
“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 
“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 
Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 
He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 
“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 
Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 
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“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't saw it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 
Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 
It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 
After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 
Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 
In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 
What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 
Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 
But everyone seems unaffected by it. 
“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 
“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 
She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 
“And no one told us?!” 
“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 
“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 
“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 
“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 
Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 
“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 
“I’m sure Mingi did—” 
“Wooyoung!” 
“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 
San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 
“Am not!” 
Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  
“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 
There's some story there you don't know. 
“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 
Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 
“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 
Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 
“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 
“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 
Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 
You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 
His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 
“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 
“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 
You smile “Well, she's right.” 
“Nuh-uh!” 
Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 
When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 
A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 
“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 
You're the happiest you've ever been.
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If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
© jensthwa, 2024.
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entitled-fangirl · 2 months
Text
Peculiar.
Cregan Stark x seer!reader
Summary: the reader whispers away, but Cregan doesn’t mind.
Masterlist
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…………………………
"My love? What are you doing?"
Y/n sat in the middle of the garden in the dark, something in her hand.
"It's cold, my dear wife. What has caught your attention?" Cregan tried again.
A frog sat in her hand and she didn't let her gaze leave it. "The lead-footed toad will try to grow a hand," she whispered softly to herself.
He let out a soft sigh, knowing she was stuck in her head. He knelt down next to her, looking at the frog. "Are you cold?"
"The lead-footed toad."
"I know," he whispered back. "I know. But are you cold, my love?"
No answer came from her.
He reached up and gently touched her shoulder, and when she flinched instinctively, he was ready to calm her, "Shh. It's just me."
She relaxed at that, as if finally returning to the world. The frog had jumped from her hand when she had flinched and she looked back to her hand and began to frantically search the dirt around her for it.
Cregan reached out and grabbed her hands, "Hey. Hey. C'mere."
She looked back up at him, "It will try to grow a hand, Cregan."
He nodded, "I understand." He never quite did, but he knew better than to try to make it make sense to him. If it made sense to her, that's all that mattered. "You're freezing. Let us return to the warm walls, yes?"
"What if it succeeds?"
He frowned, "The toad?"
She nodded.
He shrugged, "Then he'll be the first of his kind, I suppose. But that's quite unlikely, don't you think?"
She considers his words and eventually nods, "Yes. Yes. I think so."
He smiles and brushes hair from her face, "C'mon. Up."
The two returned to the castle, but not without a last look at the dirt her frog had once been in.
The next spell happened in the dead of night.
It was actually quite unusual for it to surprise her in sleep.
She sat up, wide eyed, and in a dead sweat. Her breathing was erratic.
She looked to Cregan who slept like the dead.
The dead.
Her dream. "The fire will drown all but the two deserving of dying and they will claim it for themselves," she whispered to remember.
She pulled the blankets from herself and got up from the bed and moved to the fireplace.
She stared at the flames.
The fire will drown them.
Even she couldn't understand who.
Cregan rubbed his eyes and looked to her side of the bed, immediately frowning when she was not there.
He sat up, scanning the room and relaxing when he saw her, "Sweet girl?" His voice echoed in the quiet room.
She looked over her shoulder to him and wiped her face, "Sorry. Couldn't sleep."
He nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Alright," he said awkwardly. He wasn't sure what to do. "Want to talk about it?”
"Hmm?"
"The dream I know you had." He stated. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She hummed, "No. I don't think so."
"Come back to bed then."
"In a minute."
Cregan fell back onto the bed dramatically, "I shall catch hypothermia if my dear wife does not come warm me!"
She giggled, much more eager to join him.
His methods worked, and she was soon asleep on his chest.
The third one was sudden.
Cregan was busy sparring in the courtyard with a fellow swordsman, perfecting his skills.
She sat not too far with a book she was engrossed in.
But she suddenly dropped it and held her hands on either side of her head and her face scrunched in pain.
Cregan heard her whimper and he quickly abandoned his sword to move to her, "What's going on?"
She shook her head.
He knew the best method in this instance was to give her space, no matter how much he didn't want to.
She had a very sharp intake of breath and her eyes shot open. "Poison will stain the mouth of the ruler of the sun."
He tilted his head, "Hmm?"
"The… the poison. The sun…" Her voice faded as if uncertainty took over. "The ruler of the sun…"
He knelt in front of her, "You alright?"
She looked to him with a furrowed brow but she eventually nodded.
He let out a soft breath, leaning forward to capture her lips for just a moment.
He pulled away, "Let me clean up, and we'll discuss this 'ruler of the sun'. Yes?"
She let out a radiant smile, "Please."
He couldn't stop a small smile from running across his face as well.
She was such a peculiar thing, but he adored it.
……………………………..
Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor
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merrinla · 1 year
Text
Portrait spamming
Recent discovery. If you click on the portraits of the characters like crazy, they will react to it. And the developers had a lot of fun coding these reactions xD
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Tav / Dark Urge
normal - I'm awake! Mostly. - I'm starting to get a headache. - Must be the tadpole. - Quit knocking around in there! - A thousand needlepricks in my rotten skull.
combat -Ahhhhhhhh! Okay, I feel better. - I have an itch in the worst place. - Is being a mind flayer so bad? - Just waiting to venture forth here. - I'm maiming as fast as I can!
stealth - What's that ticking? - Is it me? Am I ticking? - Bomb in my head about to go off. Great. - Ah, well. I had a good run.
Astarion
normal - Why do beautiful people taste better? It hardly seems fair on the ugly - they have such wonderful personalities. - Ugh. Strahd wouldn't put up with this shit. - More like Drizzt Don't'Urden - no. No that's not funny. - Villains! Dissemble no more, I admit the deed! Tear up the floor - here, here! It is the beating of his hideous hea- oh, no, that's his brain. Where did I leave that heart?
combat: - I'm trying to focus on murder. - *Humming.* - I shot a svirfneblin in Menzoberranzan just to watch him die. - I should've been a drow. They have such stylish armour.
stealth - Shhh. Just think sneaky thoughts. - Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP. - Be very, very quiet - I'm hunting idiots. - I've got a brand new torture chamber, so come and play with me.
Karlach
normal - NOTE TO ACTOR/DIRECTOR: Blow a raspberry at the player. - Don't. Poke. The Karlach. - Who am I? - My eye!
combat - Eyes on the prize - we need to win this! - Not every soldier should've made it out of training. - Eyes on victory, tummy on dinner. - I ought to just burn this whole thing down.
stealth - My back can't take much more of this. - Not now, I'm being a sneak! - I'm getting too old for this nonsense. - I'm not built to crouch.
Gale
normal - I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away. - Sembian wine; Cormyrian boar; Waterdhavian conversation. It's the little things you miss while on the road. - Oh, what a tangled Weave we web! - All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.
combat - Just go for the Magic Missile and fire away. Never fails. - Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you. - Get. Out. Of. My. Head. - I really wish I could cast a Hold spell on you.
stealth - You made me hide, don't make me come seek you. - Gods, it's like trying to sleep with a mosquito in the room. - A little privacy please. - Stop it - that tickles.
Wyll
normal - Could do for a brew. - Where there's a 'Wyll', there's a 'y'. - Ever get the sense that someone's watching? - So two halflings walk under a bar...
combat - Can't hear myself think! - Wear your scars proudly. - As my father once told me: 'Can we get on with it?' - I find moderation is key.
stealth - Bad time for an itch. - Could do for a brew. - So two halflings walk under a bar... - Shush. No, really. Shush.
Lae'zel
normal - Must everyone be so exhausting? - Weapons high. Standards higher. - Is perfection too much to ask? - Pride is a virtue.
combat - I will know my queen! - There is no right or wrong, only truth. - What is the point, if not victory? - You are right to fear me.
stealth - Hush already. - There is no wisdom in madness. - Is perfection too much to ask? - There is but one way. Vlaakith.
Shadowheart
all modes - I wonder how I'll feel when I remember everything. - Strange. I've had more freedom this past while than my whole life... - Have to keep focused. Can't afford to get attached - to anyone. - If I succeed, maybe I'll be allowed a pet... ugh, stop being silly.
Halsin / his voice is currently bugged :(
normal - What I would not give for a chunk of fresh honeycomb... - Such attention... I never realised I was so popular. - Are you feeling lonely, perhaps? - Unwise, perhaps, to poke a bear this much...
сombat - Battle is afoot - you can poke me once we are safe. - Perhaps try attacking the enemy? - Admirable stamina, yet terrible priorities. - You are insistent, are you not?
stealth - Most consider it unwise to poke a bear. - My, you are eager, are you not? - Please. I am trying to be stealthy. - Calm yourself. There is plenty of me to go around.
Jaheira
normal - Oh, calm down. I'm happy to see you too. - I would poke you back, but I fear that's what you want. - My, such strong wrists. - Well you certainly have the 'omnipresent' part down, don't you? - Please go poke the ranger instead.
combat - You have my attention - now do something with it. - What? What do you want!? - Do you know, I begin to wish they had never brought me back. - Yes, yes, have your fun. It isn't you they're trying to kill.
stealth - Dry those sweaty palms and let us try this again, shall we? - Argh, my knees! Oh. It was a twig. - Would that I could hide from you, too. - Careful, or I will take your toy away from you.
Minsc
normal - ARGH! My EYE, Boo! They went for my EYE! - Know that if you poke Boo, no higher dimension will keep you safe! - Heehee. Heeheeheehee. - Well, Boo? How do you want to do this?
сombat - Are you perchance a squeaky wheel in need of a kick? - I am armed! Armoured! And entirely sick of your foolishness. - I begin to grow annoyed. It is well for you that Boo does not let me learn the bad words! - Ignore them, Boo. Let them gaze deep into their own abyss, and wonder just what it is they are trying to achieve.
stealth - A little to the left? But not so hard you make me giggle. - Boo...? Are you dancing down there, or...? - Hush! I am surprising Boo for his birthday! He is... uh... eh... how old do hamsters get...? - I am the night. A pity, then, that it is so bright out.
Minthara
all modes - You had my attention, now you have my fury. - Phlar Lolth ssinssrickla. - Your suffering will be spectacular. - Stop, or die.
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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hii shea idk if someone has already made this type of request if that's the case please ignore me but i can't stop thinking about shy!reader absolutely cock drunk asking for the first time rafe to fuck her raw and the question caught him so off guard that he felt feral and dizzy, his composure slipping away just wanting to please his sweet girl<3
hi baby omg no i don't have any reqs like this here it is hope i did it justice <33
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rafe was teasing you today.
after more than an hour of back and forth at whatever party you two had gone to for the evening—and only because rafe wanted to sell and your friends had already promised they'd be there—you were more than ready to go home.
except rafe hadn't taken you home yet. instead you'd been all around the house—on rafe's lap in the living room to start. leaning in to your boyfriend's ear, you know he can tell how desperate you're getting.
you don't do well with denial anymore—rafe had spoiled you too much for that.
"can't we go now?" the words are whispered to rafe, and you rest your head on his shoulder, blinking up at him while you wait for a response. one of his hands leaves the armstand of the sofa and grips your exposed thigh, skirt riding up a little too much.
"it's early. hold out a little longer. can you do that for me?"
you think your eyes are going to roll all the way back. the answer is yes, of course, you can do that for him. you would do anything for him. you just don't want.
following that, you accompanied rafe to the other side of the house where a whole swarm of people were chasing their next high. though you should really stand next to him, you just can't find it in you today, instead staying his back, peering out every now and then like shy children do.
it's all worth it, because moments later rafe takes you upstairs, murmuring something about how you're being a good girl for holding out. there's an empty bedroom that you think is the perfect place to spend the next hour.
rafe's talking to you—though you're so deliriously horny you can't really hear him. you nod and stare up, agreeing to whatever your boyfriend wants to do, just wishing he would hurry up and do something already, when the door opens.
you're not naked, though if they had barged in a few minutes later, you might have been. and normally you think your face would be burning, that you might die of embarrassment at someone catching you like this.
instead you're just mad.
it's the owner of the house—which makes sense, since your boyfriend has brought you up to the master. he's got a girl of his own on his arm, and you grind your teeth getting up with rafe, furious and impatient now.
"at least knock next time!" you yell when you shuffle through, ignoring splutters of it's my house!
you think rafe is going to ask you what you want to do next—but he doesn't. your boyfriend, like always, knows what you need before you can even know it sometimes. you follow rafe back to his truck, ready for, at the very least, some peace and quiet.
when you finally get up to rafe's room, the buzz of the party is wearing off a bit. your feet hurt from your heels and you can't believe you yelled at someone. lost in your own thoughts, you don't even process rafe sitting down next to you, until he takes your feet into his lap, undoing the strap of your shoes for you.
it's instant—one touch from him is enough to set your skin on fire.
"oh," you say, at the sudden realization you might finally be getting what you want. you stare at where rafe is holding your ankle in place, shoes on the ground now. "thank you."
"s'nothing, kid. get on the bed." eagerly, you comply.
in the vain hope that rafe was as impatient as you are—you thought he would just fuck you already. but it seems not, with the slow way he kisses up and down your neck, down to your tits and your stomach.
you find it a lot easier to ask him for things now—a new dress, dessert, money for your nails—but it seems impossible to ask him for this, so you opt for enjoying it and staying silent.
but even then—rafe always knows when something is wrong. you're practically vibrating from anticipation—you had wanted your boyfriend to fuck you hours ago on that stupid couch from that stupid house. it seems your body was only now realize how long you'd been clenching your thighs, biting your cheek and ignoring the tense knot in your stomach.
a few touches from rafe was enough to have you practically melting—staring up and still not saying anything.
"y'okay, kid?" he asks, and you really don't know how to answer. "s'okay. you're getting what you want."
you can do this. you're patient—you've always been patient.
"can you-please, just-" alright, maybe not. "can you please just fuck me raw, please, please, just fuck me-"
of course, rafe's not stupid. he could tell you've been on edge all night, he just hadn't known why. he stares down at you, all flushed, hot skin and heavy breaths, looking up at him. he knows whatever reaction he gives you will stay on your mind, and though he can try as hard as he wants, you are impossible to say no to.
"jesus. s'that really what you want?" you nod eagerly. "can't regret this later, baby. once we do that, it's-it's serious. what if i knock you up, huh?"
rafe watches you take in the words, facing twisting in understand.
"please knock me up."
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hairmetal666 · 7 months
Text
Steve parks at Eddie's, a plastic wrapped bouquet of roses so purple they're almost black carefully buckled into the passenger seat, and a nervous twist to his stomach. He didn't plan to do this. It's just, he was agonizing about his crush to Robin and she goaded him until it seemed like a great fucking idea to ask Eddie out on Valentine's Day, of all days.
The flowers were an accident. He saw them in the front window of the little flower shop in town, and it felt like fate, like they were practically made for Eddie Munson.
With a deep breath and a gritted teeth, he swings out of the car, flowers in hand. He's doing this, he's got this, he can ask Eddie out.
Music rocks from the trailer, drowning out Steve's knock. They didn't exactly have plans tonight, only they hangout every night since Vecna, so he figured...well, Eddie never said they weren't getting together.
He's a little miffed when his knock isn't answered. Even when the music is up, the walls of the trailer vibrating, Eddie always comes to the door. But the minutes tick by with no response until the annoyance turns to anxiety.
He stretches over, up on tiptoe, craning through the window to see if he can spot Eddie, probably distracted by planning for dnd or working on a song.
The kitchen is deserted, pots steaming on the stove. The two-seater table is covered in one of those paper tablecloths they have at Melvald's for a buck, patterned with bright red hearts. The table is set, two plates, two beers, a candle burning in the center of it all.
God, he's stupid. So stupid, with his nearly black flowers and his silly crush. Of course Eddie already had someone to spend Valentine's Day with.
He stumbles down the stairs, stomach fighting up his throat. The loud music makes so much sense now. He has to leave. He can't stand the thought of Eddie finding him here, letting him down easy; can stand even less seeing him with the date he has over.
Steve almost makes it back to the car before he hears the screen door slam, Eddie's voice calling his name. For a second, he considers ignoring him; for a second, he thinks about jumping in the car and driving off and forgetting this ever happened. But he could never do that to Eddie, not even when the consequence is his own heart.
"Oh, uh. Hey, man," Steve says. He runs his fingers through his hair, swallows. "Didn't mean to interrupt, thought we had plans but I guess they weren't set in stone." He's rambling and he knows it, but can't stop. "I didn't realize you--I'll get out of your hair."
Eddie's eyes flicker from Steve to the flowers clutched in his fist, the wrapping now sweaty and rumpled. "Are those for me?" Eddie asks.
Steve's mouth open and closes a few times, thrown off the track of his monologue and trying to think of a plausible lie. "I--they're--it's--"
There's nothing for it. He has to tell the truth and eat the humiliation. "I saw them today and--They're perfect for you. So, I wanted--" he shakes his head, shoves the bouquet into Eddie's arms. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll let you get back to your date."
Eddie's face scrunches and it would be cute except for all the way Steve's heart is breaking. "Aren't you my date?"
"What?"
"Steve. We hang out every night. I thought--"
"But. For me--" He splutters. "The table?"
"Harrington, it's Valentine's Day! You bought me flowers!"
"Yeah, cause I was going to ask you out!"
This is what breaks Eddie, and he bursts out into helpless giggles.
"Don't laugh at me, Munson." But he's starting to laugh too.
"I'm sorry! I just--you," and Eddie isn't laughing anymore, he's looking at Steve with clear, shining eyes. "You brought me flowers."
Steve sobers too, hands over the bouquet. "I brought you flowers. You made me dinner."
"Yeah." He glances up at Steve from under his eyelashes. "I made you dinner."
"Sorry for--" He gestures broadly around himself.
Eddie shakes his head, soft smile on his lips. "You're something else, Stevie." The words are so fond they make Steve's heart flip. "Now, come inside before the food gets cold."
Steve walks to do the door, pausing before he climbs the stairs.
"What is it?" Eddie's eyebrows lift.
"Nothing. Just--" Steve licks his lips, notices the way Eddie tracks the movement. "I'm really falling for you, is all."
"No duh," Eddie says with a broad, smitten grin. "You bought me flowers."
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moon7jay · 7 months
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how you think each member will hold hands
and favorite positions
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HEESEUNG
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Please tell me this isn't heeseung because the hand placement, the size difference, the way it's romantic but also you have no choice but to take it cuz he's holding your hands flushed against the sheets???
Favorite position : Cowgirl
The view of you on top of him, using his body for your own pleasure? Lord, sign him up. Contrary to popular belief, this man would love to be tied up and get used like your very own personal dildo. loves when you play with his nipples and scratch his chest while taking what belongs to you. "Yeah baby, keep fucking it, keep bouncing on that fucking dick" he'd whine, his throat parched while he watches your boobs bouncing in his face as you ride him. The view so erotic that he'd end up cumming without warning. That doesn't mean that he won't absolutely fucking ruin your pussy once he has you underneath him tho.
JAY
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Man is a lover boy through and through, hands intertwining while he messily makes out with you is literally what he lives for. He's always gentle with you, clutching your hand tightly in his during sex gives him that sense of intimacy, which he so dearly craves.
Favorite position : Missionary
like I said, a lover boy through and through. Eye contact is a must for him to truly get into sex. His hooded gaze will be pivoted to your face, drinking in your pleasure filled expressions, the sight of small whimpers falling from your red lips while your eyes roll to the back of your head, will quite literally drive him crazy. Sharing hot breaths, gasping and moaning into each other's mouths, kissing messily while he pounds you into the sheets. Yup. That's what sex is all about to him. "just want to keep fucking you like this baby" he'd moan into your mouth, sighing in pleasure at feeling you clench around his throbbing length.
JAKE
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Hear me out. Jake gets so pussy drunk while fucking into your wet, gummy walls that he'd be the one gripping onto the sheets. Gasping and moaning like a dog in heat while you wrap your hands around his wrists, begging him to slow down. Will he slow down tho? Naaah
Favorite position : Doggy/Reverse cowgirl
If there's something Jake loves more than your pussy, it's your ass. the view of your plush flesh rippling and jiggling while he snaps his hips into yours? Digging his fingers into your soft flesh, spanking it till it turns bright red? Please sign him up for all of the above. The only sounds coming from his mouth will be pathetic whimpers and gasps. will quiet literally cum in his pants if you so much as glance at him from over your shoulder as you grind your ass against his hardening dick. Baby's just too sensitive :(
SUNGHOON
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I don't even have to explain myself on this one, like look at the hand placement and tell me it doesn't scream sunghoon. He LOVES the fact that your hands are so fucking tiny, he can quiet literally grab them both in one single hand, pinning them right above your head. It makes his size kink go brrrr.
Favorite position : Mating Press
Just like jay, he craves the feeling of looking into your eyes while fucking you. But in ordinary missionary? Nope. Sunghoon will fold your body in half till your knees press against your chest and your legs hang over his shoulders. the angle being perfect for the purpose of breeding. And breed you, he does. "fuck, keep milking my cock just like that, gonna knock you up" he'd groan, rutting his hips into yours at a pace so fast and rough that it leaves you gasping. The position also gives sunghoon the leverage to spit into your mouth, and God does he love when sex gets messy. He'd be licking into your hot mouth, slurping up your drool while he dicks you down raw.
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iwanthermidnightz · 1 year
Text
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When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.
I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.
In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.
In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.
I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.
I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.
I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.
I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.
Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.
I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.
These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.
I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.
I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.
Yours,
Taylor
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vbecker10 · 1 month
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Hey love, how are you doing? Hope you’re all good. Could you write a Bucky x fem!reader who has an eating disorder, but she hides it from the team and she does it successfully, but on one mission she passes out, which is weird because she’s one of the best. She says it was just because she didn’t feel well and everyone believes her, but not Bucky. He senses that something’s off and eventually finds out, because he leaves reader no choice but to tell him, and so she does.
I’m struggling with my ed and I would love it, but if you don’t want to write this, it’s totally fine! I am a huge fan of your work💚
I Want You to be Healthy
Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) - established relationship / reader has an eating disorder
Summary: You pass out on the way to the jet after a successful mission. The team quickly accepts the excuse that you don't feel well but Bucky knows you well enough to know that you're lying. As soon as you are alone together, Bucky pushes you to open up to him about what truly made you pass out.
Warnings: Eating disorder, passing out, denying you have an eating disorder, feeling insecure about your weight & body image, keeping secrets from your friends and boyfriend, relapsing eating disorder
Background: Female reader has an Eating Disorder (a combination of anorexia and bulimia). Reader has the following behaviors: Skipping meals, frequent checking in the mirror for precieved flaws, constantly using a scale and tracking their weight, eating alone and at odd times of the day / night, exercising more frequently and more intensely than needed, not taking rest days or days off for injury, using the restroom soon after eating, making their own meals rather than eating what the team eats, often complains about needing to be healthy and talks about having to lose weight or gain muscle, thinking they are in control of their eating habits
A/N: Hi my lovely anon, I'm so sorry to hear you are struggling with your ED, I hope you can focus on yourself and get the help you need. I'm here if you want someone to listen 💚 Thank you for trusting me with this, I tried not to focus too much on the specific type of eating disorder since there are a few but I found some similarities between them when I was doing my research. I used those symptoms for this to make it a bit general. I hope this is okay 💚
I didn't tag too many people in this because I wasn't sure who exactly to tag, I won't be offend if you skip this 💚
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Steve walks at the front of the group, one hand firmly gripped around the arm of a captured Hydra officer, her hands cuffed tightly behind her back. The mission was simple enough and more of you had gone than was needed but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to be out in the field. It was the only place you felt you belonged, where you could show the others on the team you were good enough to be here.
When Bucky had knocked on your door earlier this afternoon and asked if you were free to join them, you agreed eagerly. It was a welcome distraction from what you had been doing for the last hour, standing in front of your full length mirror, scrutinizing every inch of your body. The flaws in your physique are so glaringly obvious to you, you couldn't help but fixate on where you need to lose fat or gain muscle.
Bucky had smirked when you answered your door to him in nothing but a towel, he assumed you were having a lazy day after a relaxing shower. You hugged him tightly and told him you would get ready for the mission. There was no point in telling him what you had really been doing. A super soldier could never understand your daily struggle with your weight or the constant drive to be perfect. None of the Avengers could.
Natasha and Clint follow the captain closely, another captive officer walks with his head down between them as they discuss dinner. They quickly decide that since its Friday, they should get take out when they get back. There was no reason to make an excuse of course, take out was the easy option. Most of the team was either too busy to cook or had simply never been taught how to.
This meant you had to be even more careful because the food that was ordered was never healthy. Soon after you joined, you learned that it was easier to prepare all of your own food and eat in your room. Eating away from the team also meant they couldn't ask why your portions were what they considered small or why you were eating much later than them. It was none of their business anyways, you had told yourself often. As much as you would have liked their company, it was better this way. You could focus on your weight and health instead of answering all of their questions or dealing with their concerned opinions.
Bucky chuckles as he slips his arm around your waist, unaware of your thoughts. "I'm voting for spaghetti and meatballs, not that anyone asked me," he joins his friends conversation but you are barely listening.
Natasha checks to make sure Clint has a firm hold of the captive then she effortlessly turns, walking backwards smoothly through the thick leaves. "What do you want for dinner, Y/N?" she asks you with a smile, pointedly ignoring Bucky's comment which gets a laugh from Clint.
You don't answer, too distracted by the pain that is spreading deep in your stomach, the one that means you've almost reached your limit between meals. When you get back, you'll need to find something to eat, even if that means more time in the gym.
"Earth to Y/N," the spy waves at you to get your attention. When you make eye contact with her, she again asks what you want for dinner.
You shrug in response, the pain in your stomach growing as you walk. You know the type of answer she is looking for. Pizza, Thai, sushi. You could easily suggest any one of a hundred things but you can't. If you did, you would be expected to join them and that isn't something you are willing to do.
"Don't bother," Clint says when you are silent for a few more steps. His tone is relaxed but you worry he can tell what you are thinking. "You know Y/N never eats anything we order. We don't get anything healthy enough for her," he reminds Natasha. "Too much grease and fat and deliciousness."
"It's not my fault I'm the only one at the Tower worried about my figure," you roll your eyes at him.
Bucky laughs, his hand squeezes your waist, a part of your body you've always been self conscious about. "Your figure is perfect, doll," he smiles and you wish you could believe him but it's not that easy.
Natasha turns back to Clint, not missing a step and pats his stomach once. "Maybe you could learn something from her," she jokes.
"Hey!" he calls after her, sounding like an annoyed sibling. She laughs, jogging lightly towards Steve to hold the female officer while he opens the hatch.
Your ears begin to ring and the trees in the forest around you blend together, becoming hazy. Bucky kisses the top of your head and asks you a question but you can barely make out what he is saying. His voice is just above the ringing that vibrates in your mind. He looks down at you, his expression quickly turning to concern as he says your name but you don't respond.
You're light-headed and suddenly feel cold as your vision blurs more of your surroundings together. You take one more small step and stop, unable to continue forward. Bucky's hold on you tightens but you can't make out his words. You recognize what's happening to your body but only a second before you lose consciousness.
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"Y/N," you hear Bucky say your name softly as he runs his metal fingers through your hair gently. Opening your eyes with a quiet groan, the jet gradually comes into focus but everything is sideways. You turn your head to look up at Bucky and realize your resting on his lap. "Slowly doll," he says, helping you sit up in the seat next to him.
"You okay?" Clint asks from the seat across from you.
You nod, still a bit dizzy, "Yeah."
"You had us all worried," Bucky says, his eyes not leaving you.
You shrug, hoping a few simple lies will calm everyone including yourself. It's been almost three years since you passed out from not eating. The last time it happened, your eating disorder had spiraled out of control for the second time and your family urged you to get treatment. It couldn't be happening again though, you think desperately. You are in control of your eating habits this time, you had just accidentally gone too long without eating.
"I felt kinda sick this morning. I know I probably should have stayed home but this sounded like a really quick mission," you offer an explanation that sounds likely.
"Next time you tell us if you don't feel well enough to go out," Steve says sternly from the pilot seat of the jet.
"Will do cap," you plaster on a smile to hide the wince from the dull ache in your stomach and salute him. This earns you a huff and a dramatic eye roll from the blonde super soldier.
"Good, can't let anything happen to the second best spy on the team," Natasha says with a smirk as she opens some files on her tablet.
You force out a small laugh, "Second best?" Then you look at Bucky who still hasn't taken his eyes off of you. He doesn't seem to have accepted your excuse as readily as everyone else but he also knows you better than anyone. "Are you going to let her talk about your girl like that?" Hoping the joke with Nat will distract him from his concern for you.
Bucky responds with a smile almost as fake as yours and says, "Of course not doll."
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"Hey," Tony says when he spots you coming towards him in the hall. "How are you feeling? I heard to passed out in the field today."
"I'm okay, just a bit dehydrated," you tell him, holding up your bottle of water as proof.
"Okay, just try to be more careful next time," he tells you and you agree to as you continuing towards your room. "You're not gonna eat with us? Nat ordered from this new Mexican place."
"I'm still feeling a little off," you touch your forehead lightly and he nods. It's an easy excuse and it slips out before you even realize you've said it. You take a few more steps down the hall then add, "I'll see you all in the morning for training, though."
"Only if you're feeling up to it," he says and you give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He smiles, shaking his head when you turn away from him again. "You're allowed a rest day you know," he calls after you. You continue towards your room without responding, you know that's not true.
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A soft knock on your door interrupts your reading and you get up to see who it is. "Hi Bucky," you greet your boyfriend warmly but he doesn't offer you a hug or even a smile in return.
"Can we talk?" he asks in a serious tone and you nod, letting him in as your heart races. Those three words send panic through your body in an instant. You freeze as he takes a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "Come sit, doll," he taps the bed next to him lightly without looking at you, his eyes still fixed on his hands.
You walk over and sit next to him silently. What do you two need to talk about that is making him this uneasy, you think. The only answer that surfaces is that he's come to end your eight month relationship, but why? Did you do something wrong, had you forgotten something, your mind races in search of an answer.
He takes your hand in his metal one gently and takes a breath to steady himself which only makes you more nervous. "Y/N," he starts slowly, "I love you so much, you know that right?" He lifts his head to look at you and you nod, too anxious to speak.
"I'm going to ask you this once," he says, "And please, don't lie to me." You bite your bottom lip, searching his face for any hint of his question. "Why did you really pass out on the mission today?" he asks.
You feel the smallest hint of relief that this isn't about your relationship but then you are instantly filled with a different type of fear. Has Bucky figured out what you've been hiding from him, from everyone? Does he know about your eating disorder returning and your worry that you're losing control? Your mind fills with all of your most easily accepted excuses, hoping that you can convince him you are okay.
Before you can open your mouth, he shakes his head. "I need the truth doll," almost as if he can see the lies forming.
"I-" your words stick in your throat and you look away from Bucky, your eyes roaming around your small room. You focus on the high tech scale positioned in front of the tall, full length mirror you spend so much of your time in front of.
He cups your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his, "Talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what's wrong, Y/N."
"I'm fine, I promise," you tell him in the most sincere voice you can, kissing his cheek softly. "I told you, I was just feeling a little under the weather today. It's not a big deal."
"You didn't eat again today," he states, no hint of a question in his tone. You're in too much shock to begin defending your reasoning for skipping a meals when he adds, "You've been missing meals a lot lately, haven't you?"
You nod, suddenly feeling caught which makes you feel both guilty and embarrassed. Bucky is the one person on the team you have always been able to confide in, even before you started dating but this was something you wanted to keep even from him. It was the reason you forced yourself to eat when you went on dates with him but you always found a way to excuse yourself and use the bathroom soon after. Had he noticed that too, you worry.
"How long do you think you can go without eating?" he asks but you don't want to admit you know the answer. Since college, you've developed a pretty good sense for how long you can go between meals, today truly had been a miscalculation. Instead you simply shrug as you guage whether or not you can convince Bucky you missed those meals by accident.
"Y/N," he says when you are quiet. "You can't keep doing this."
You chew the inside of your cheek, this conversation reminding you too much of the one you had with your parents the first time they caught you hiding and throwing away your food. Your eyes flicker away from his and back as you start to realize you might be struggling more than you thought.
His jaw tightens and his gaze follows yours to the scale and mirror then he sighs. "I should throw those stupid things out," he says, more to himself then to you.
"No," you respond quickly and he furrows his brows when he looks back at you. "I need them," you try to explain, your body tensing at the thought of being without them even though they do nothing but cause you anxiety and distress. "I have to keep checking..." your voice trails off, you don't want to open up any further. You don't want Bucky you judge you.
"Checking what?" Bucky asks, hoping you will let him in.
"I have to keep checking my weight," you finish and you find yourself suddenly unable to hold the rest in. "I've always been just a little over from where I need to be with my weight." You look down at your body as you sit next to him, you can easily envision all the flaws you saw in the mirror this morning. "I'll get there, I'm close," you tell him as if he's the one you need to convince and not the small voice that dictates what you can and cannot eat.
You had been focused on your weight for almost your whole adult life and never reached your target. It doesn't matter that the target keeps shrinking anytime you are even remotely close. A few times, you had almost reached the number you thought would finally mean you were perfect only for the small voice to disagree. It would insist you could still lose more weight or you had put on too much muscle or needed more muscle or any number of things. Each time your goal changed, your eating habits became stricter and your workouts became more intense.
Bucky cups your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin lightly, "What are you talking about? You're in the best shape of anyone on the team. You're perf-"
"No," you shake your head, pulling free from his fingers. "I'm far from perfect, you of all people should know that. You're a super soldier, you were practically built to be perfect," you tell him and Bucky's metal hand twiches as he removes it from your waist. "I knew you wouldn't understand," you add with deep a sigh.
"I want to understand. I'm worried about you," Bucky says but you don't look at him.
"You don't need to worry about me," you say, shifting away from him on the bed. You feel yourself becoming defensive and worried he will want you to stop checking your weight and eat more. "I'm fine, I told you. Why can't you just leave it alone?"
"Because you're not fine," he says, his voice raising a bit to show his frustration, not at you but with the situation. "You don't eat, Y/N, not nearly enough and I've seen the way you push yourself too hard when we train. I kept telling myself you knew what you were doing and you would stop if you needed to but then today..." he shakes his head as his voice trails off for a moment.
"Today was an accident," you insist but you're less sure of yourself then you had been. "I have it under control. If I had known about the mission beforehand, I wouldn't have gotten sick."
"You didn't get sick, you passed out," he says and you can see he's becoming more upset by the conversation and the fact that you will not listen to him. "What if that had happened in the middle of the mission? What if we had been somewhere more dangerous and I couldn't get to you? You've gone on solo missions, no one would have known what happened to you."
You get up quickly, needing to distance yourself from Bucky's questions and concern and the doubt they are creating in you. You pace around your room, trying to absorb his words but you don't want to believe he's right. You don't want to admit that you're not okay again.
Without realizing it, you walk towards your mirror and tap the scale with your foot. Bucky gets up, coming over to you but your eyes are fixed on the scale. You tap it again and it turns on, the zeros blinking slowly as you remember the number that stared at you this morning.
"I get that your worried about your weight-" he starts but you cut him off.
"Of course I'm worried about it," you look up, folding your arms around your body tightly. "You have no idea how easy it is to gain weight, one little slip and I could lose all my progress. I have to watch everything I eat and workout so I can be good enough to be here, so I can be perfect," you voice your inner thoughts to Bucky for the first time. "I can't just stop," you tell him.
He moves closer to you, removing the empty space you created between the two of you and you begin to feel nervous again. "I want you to be healthy," he takes your hand in his, pulling you away from the scale.
"So do I, that's why I need to do this," you argue but you feel defeated, as if you are only moments from admitting you know he is right.
He shakes his head, his metal arm rests on your lower back, pulling you closer to him. "What you're doing is the opposite of being healthy, doll. Can you see that?"
You look up at him, seeing the concern fill his eyes and you know you can't deny it any longer. You bite your lip and nod slowly, "I think I need help."
"I'm here doll," he responds softly.
"This isn't-" you struggle to find the words and he gives you time, holding you quietly. "This isn't the first time this has happened," you tell him honestly. Bucky holds you silently as you tell him about your struggles with your eating disorder and how you have relapsed previously after getting treatment. He doesn't ask questions or interrupt you, his hand moves gently up and down your back as you open up completely. When you finish, he wipes your tears softly and kisses your forehead.
"I thought I was okay," you tell him, your voice breaking. He pulls you flush against his body, wrapping his arms around you.
"You will be," he assures you and you rest your head on his chest, hoping he is right. "You are the strongest person I have ever met, you can do this. I will help you any way I can, I promise."
You pull away to look up at him, realizing you'll be gone for at least a few months for treatment. "What am I going to tell everyone?" you ask him, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. It was one thing to break down and admit to Bucky that you had an eating disorder but it was an entirely different thing for the Avengers to find out. "I don't want the team to know," you shake your head, worried about their reactions.
He cups your cheek and you look up at him again, "Don't worry about the team or anything else, doll. I will take care of them and everything else. The only thing I want you to do is focus on getting better, on being healthy again." He gives you a hopeful smile and says, "I'll tell them we're going to visit your family. Fury will approve the time off, it shouldn't be an issue."
You sniffle in response then smile slowly, "We?"
He nods, "If that's okay with you. I know there are things you'll need to do alone, but I want to be close, in case you need me. I want to be there for you, every step of the way."
You wipe a tear quickly with the back of your hand and nod, unable to express how much Bucky's offer means to you in words. Instead, you reach up and press your lips to his softly, holding onto him tightly. Pulling away slightly, you look into his eyes and tell him, "I love you."
He smiles, running his fingers through your hair gently, his metal arm still holding you close. "I love you too, Y/N. You will be okay, I promise you will get through this."
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I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚
@soubi001 @mochie85 @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lulubelle814 @siconetribal @jiyascepter @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @dracoswhorexx @lokiandbuckysdoll
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gabriellessworldd · 2 months
Text
Do i make you nervous?
shy, nerdy Armin x bold black fem reader
wc- 1.4k!
☆ warnings ☆: js a lil smth for my armin girlies! very light smut nth too crazy 18+, oral (f receive, you sit on his face 😛), armin is obsessed with you, so when you asked him to be your tutor he thanked his lucky stars.
"Excuse me, Miss L/n, could you stay after class, there's a pressing matter." your chemistry professor Mrs. Clark announced whilst sending you a look after she graded your assignment. "Yea i'll stay." you mumbled opening up your macbook, checking the damage, '13% no. fucking. way.' sure you weren't the best student but it was never this bad.
Class was finally over and honestly you wanted nothing more than to go back to your apartment and take a long ass nap. "Miss L/n, don't keep me waiting! Come here please." honestly you didn't want to hear what she had to say, but if you wanted to pass this class you would have to work your ass off. "Yes ma'am, what's the matter?" you were trying to be polite and sweet so maybe she'd have mercy on you but, that plan didn't work.
After 25 minutes of her lecturing you about your grades, she finally offered some help. "I would suggest you get a tutor, it could give you that extra push you need. Hearing the same stuff from me everyday clearly isn't helping you." She looks at you and shrugs, "You can see yourself out now, enjoy your afternoon." As much as she annoyed you, your professor was right, and you had the perfect tutor in mind.
Armin Arlert. Not only was he smart as fuck but he also had a gorgeous face. It made perfect sense, if that pretty boy had been teaching you chemistry you probably would've had perfect attendance and 100's on all your assignments. You saw him walking off campus and rushed after him, you weren't sure if he would help, but what's the harm in asking?
"Hey Armin!" he turned around looking for who was calling him then he spotted you waving him down. 'is y/n looking for me?' he felt his stomach do an olympic level gymnastic routine (😜) and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was captivated by you, there was just something so perfect about you. The way you laughed, your voice, your beautiful eyes, your entire being had him enthralled.
He walked over to you, "h-hey y/n" he tried not to get too nervous but the small voice crack gave him away. "hi! i was wondering if you could do me a favor?" you batted your eyelashes and smiled brightly. "o-oh! y-yea of course, what's the matter?" he said it almost too quickly, Armin was just glad he could talk to you. You studied his face, it was perfect, the way his glasses sat on his face, the pink tint on his lightly freckled cheeks, even his pink plump lips. 'wait, why is he blushing?' you smiled at the thought, this would be so easy.
"s-so you need m-me to tutor y-you?" he stumbled over his words, an hour and thirty minutes alone with you, luck really was on his side today. "Yup, that's it! Think we could start today?" you checked the time, it was 3:47. "You could come to my house now if you're free! There aren't any distractions and it would be just me nd you!" There was no way Armin was turning this down, "yes that works for me." 'fuck yea i finally made it through a sentence without stuttering' he smiled softly showing his teeth, and your knees nearly buckled.
You opened your door, the scent of vanilla and strawberries clouded Armin. Your place was comfy nd clean, "You can sit at the table over there, I need to shower quickly if you don't mind!" He nodded his head 'i can't believe im in y/n's house right now' he pulled out his textbook nd laptop, not that he would really need it.
"Thank you so much for waiting!" you walked out of your room in your pj's and matching house slippers. "You want anything to drink? I've got dr pepper, pineapple fanta, nd water." Armin watched you walk to the kitchen, your small shorts shrinking with every step, "u-uhm dr pepper is fine. thanks." You sat back down with the two drinks, your boobs bounced slightly in your exposed cheetah print push up bra. you noticed Armin's face heat up and slightly turn pink, you decided to tease him.
you leaned over the table and showing more cleavage and placed your hand on his arm, "Do you mind explaining this to me? I don't get it" Armin tried not to make eye contact with you and took a sip of his drink, but when he finally gave in your seductive eyes almost killed him. He choked on the dr pepper, "um y-yea it's dea-" "Wait.. do i make you nervous?" you cut him off, not caring about chemistry anymore, that assignment could wait.
You scooted closer to Armin and leaned in close to his face, "you're a very pretty boy Armin, did you know that?" You looked at his lips and back at his eyes, "n-no I've ne-never-" You went to kiss him and he immediately took the chance. His soft hands instantly squeezed your tits, and you ran your fingers through his soft blonde hair. The kiss was sweet but it was also passionate, it felt desperate like you both needed more. Armin slid down the straps to your top and bra, freeing your boobs. His soft hands pinched and rolled your nipples, you softly moaned into his mouth and he slipped his tongue in. But he still wanted more.
Armin pulled away from the kiss, face flushed and cheeks red, with a light sheen on his lips from your lip gloss. He lowered his mouth to your right nipple, slipping it in while still playing with the left. Your hands were still tangled in his hair, tugging at his locks. Armin left hickeys all over your chest, wanting to mark you, he needed to know that this wasn't a deluded dream and that you were right there letting him touch you. He looked up at you while sliding your tit out of his mouth with a pop, "c-can we go to your room?" his face was filled with lust, he looked so divine. "of course" you stood up and grabbed his hand, leading him to your room. Armin was anxious obviously, but the was something he needed.
You laid in your bed with your legs propped up on Armin's shoulders as he sloppily ate you out. "Fuck Armin! right there please!" He sucked on your clit, he needed you to cum, he wanted to taste how sweet you were. "o-oh fuck armin, mmhm, right there" He came up, his lips covered in your arousal, " I want you to cum in my mouth y/n." He went back to sucking your clit, you felt a familiar pressure build up in the lower half of your stomach,"a-ah mm armin. That feels soo good!" You could feel yourself about to unravel as he pushed his tongue in and out of your hole. "Cmon y/n, c-cum for me, please." he felt you pulse on his tongue and pull his hair, he started getting sloppier.
Your thighs squeezed his head as you felt your high coming. "ah Armin 'm gonna cum, fuck!" you moaned out as he sucked on your clit, making you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes closed, mouth dangling open. You felt yourself squirt and looked down at Armin watching him lick up everything.
"Can, can you s-sit on my f-face?" He wanted you to say yes, he needed you to say yes. You looked at him puzzled, "You want me, to sit on your face?" "Yes. please y/n." You nodded your head at the blonde, Armin quickly sat down, laying down fully when he saw you stand over him. You straddled his face, not fully sitting down all the way. "Y/n sit down all the way please, I promise I'll be alright." You listened and sat down.
"o-oh fuck armin, oh my god please!" his nose rubbed your sensitive clit as he continued tongue fucking you, his groans vibrated against your core. He loved the way you moaned, it sounded so heavenly, it was his new favorite sound. You needed more, you started to slowly grind on his face, "c-can you go faster y/n please." You picked up the pace, his tongue worked wonders, it was like Armin knew exactly what you liked. "a-ah Armin! 'm too sensitive, gonna cum again" You were on cloud nine, his tongue continued the ravaging pace. "c-cum for me sweetheart." The overstimulation and sloppy licks to your clit drove you over the edge "Fuck! ah Armin!" your vision went clouded as you came down from your high. Armin was satisfied, this was all he needed, to taste every bit of you.
a/n ☆: hiiii my lovebugs!! firstly i js wanna say i'm so grateful for all the interaction with "Never get yo bitch back!" also next part will be coming soon! lmk if y'all wanna get tagged in my future projects!! (y'all like the color switch for different characters or js keep pink?)
-with lots of love, gabrielle <3
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Note
If you were to write Lila would you keep her being a con artist criminal with multiple identities but hinted at/revealed it earlier than S5 or would you cut that part down of her character entirely ?
It would really depend on how much space I had to fill. Gabriel is not the kind of villain that you can draw out forever. His story needs to have a clearly planned ending right from the start. In fact, I think they drew him out at least a season too long. So, if I also had to fill eight seasons, I could see myself going the Lila route. I'd just make a few changes. Off the top off my head, here's how I'd handle serious villain Lila as opposed to what canon wrote, which is petty school bully Lila who is entirely unbelievable as a serious villain.
First of all, Lila wouldn't be introduced at the end of season one. While her and Gabriel probably need to have some overlap, that's way too soon. In my version, she shows up at the start of season four and she'd be heavily toned down. We'd know that something was off about her, we may even keep the liar thing, but it would be a lot more subtle. Lies like, "Ladybug rescued me" and "I got to go backstage at a Jagged Stone concert" instead of "Ladybug is my bff" and "Jagged Stone wrote a song about me." Her goal would no longer be gaining peons, but instead gaining true close friends who like and trust her. The reason for this is that Lila is replacing Optigami as Mayura's last sentimonster.
See, season three ended with all those identity reveals and most of the revealed identities are in the same class. That's curious, so it makes perfect sense for Nathalie and Gabriel to want someone undercover in Adrien's class, but they can't do it. So Nathalie makes a sentikid of her own, gives her the power of manipulation, and sends her off to try to find Ladybug and/or Chat Noir by whatever means necessary.
This would give a clear reason for Gabriel to trust Lila, a clear reason for Lila to know all about the miraculous, and a clear reason for Lila to hate Ladybug. In this version, I wouldn't do Nathalie's lackluster redemption. Instead, Nathalie stays bad right up to her death. Perhaps her last act is getting the butterfly to her daughter and ordering her to get revenge on Ladybug and Chat Noir should Gabriel fail. After all, Gabriel can't wield more than six miraculous at once, so it makes sense for him to send Nathalie off with at least one of them while he enacts his master plan just in case it fails.
That's just one potential path to take. I also like the idea of having Lila be someone who came to Paris in order to find the miraculous, but who has no ties to the Agrestes. That would require some pretty big changes to her character, though, as I can't see that type of character caring about things like dating Adrien or being a model or all the other crap that has nothing to do with gaining a miraculous and everything to do with popularity and social clout. Lila canonically doesn't know that Gabriel even has a miraculous until the final of season four, so she basically just lucked into finding one instead of doing anything logical to find it because this show has no clue how to actually write smart, clever characters.
In summary, I'm totally fine with complex, master-manipulator Lila, it's just hard to figure out the best way to make her work when we don't know anything about her backstory or motivation. The version proposed above is just the best I can do to fit her into the role canon placed her in. A role I could easily see later seasons flat out ignoring.
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capslocked · 11 months
Text
KINKVEMBER DAY: 5
[prompt: face sitting]
male reader x ahn yujin
3.5k words
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Yujin is giving you shit when it happens.
It’s been a little over an hour since she turned to you, bored and pouty about it, and asked if you wanted to fuck again.
She gives you shit in the way only the prettiest girls can get away with. Perfect smile, like she's innocent. And all low and breathy in her throat. Hitched around the vowels of your name. Threatening enough that you thought about just immediately capitulating. It was tempting. 
"Or you could stay on the floor like a lame loser bummin’ around in your pajamas." She leans up on the arm of the sofa. "Either way."
Yujin stretches and her sweater is huge. One of those cozy campus crewnecks that everybody seems to have, oversized and inviting and right. Her shorts are ridiculously small, just enough of her stomach peeking out over her waistband for you to want to feel it, touch it, have the pleasure of sinking your tongue into the shallow groove.
She's teasing you because she never quite knows what to do with her energy. Lacks an outlet big enough, really, but is also selfishly delighted in getting any response at all, no matter how halfhearted it might be. You stare at her. You watch and don't speak when she runs her fingers up her stomach to pull her sweater up with it. You groan. She grins. She is pretty, her lips full and eyes soft. The laugh that follows her is because it's always obvious when she's won and you wish your body wasn't so prone to giving away your weaknesses.
"Hey." She blinks slowly, lifting one leg up. Her bare foot, warm, toes flexed, against your thigh, nudges against you once, and again.
"How many orgasms until I feel a little more forgiving towards my good friend who, I know, is super super sorry that he can't afford the pizza money because he chose to use his own allowance to do something as silly as pay rent, I wonder?"
"I paid half last time."
"Doesn't make sense because you ate it all.
"You said you weren't hungry." You start to object because you do have an objection. A list, actually, prepared, of instances you think you're owed. But Yujin arches, and when a separate but related complaint rises swiftly to the foreground, your throat goes dry -
"Orgasm tax."
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” she asks, and you’re struggling to answer truthfully, honestly.
She rolls over, lets you see everything she has, the tiniest shorts in the world tugged even higher, the generous curve of her ass and thighs in silhouette. You didn't ask for this but you weren’t about to die without it, you think, looking up from the floor and staring, wetting your lips, absolutely sure. She does it all on her own and it takes an absurd amount of effort to peel your hands off the ground.
"Stay where you are," she snaps, seeing it too - and in a second of deliberate slowness, hooks two fingers into her shorts, tugging them aside before looming over you. "Or you're not fucking me today. At all."
You let your head thud down against the rug beneath you. "That's not fair."
"You've gotta come up with something better than that. You could suck up, beg, maybe I'd forgive you if you just told me how much better I was than the cash I could use on literally whatever."
Your eyes cut down.
Part of you wonders if you've always been such an easy mark - whether being here has changed you, if all these months of dangling carrots in front of you are paying off or if you're just a willing accomplice to your own exploitation.
Part of you isn't stupid. Yujin's taken an almost disturbing amount of pleasure in flaunting herself since the first night you drank too much, said too much, resisted too little - you can tell the way it starts, a smile toying in the corner of her mouth, before she taps the band of her bra, waits to hear you swallow - to hear how hot you get - before she casually asks what it would take, "to convince you", to change the conversation from whether she wants something from the vending machine, or she just forgot it was laundry day, or where the hell that note from Wonyoung had gone, to what she'd like the answer to be. What would you let her do if it got you another chance to get under her shirt, see her all bared, eyes dark and hair like a veil across her collarbones, pretty nipples and swells of her breasts pushed up, until you put your mouth on her.
Yujin tilts her hips so it's easier for you to follow, her hand snaking beneath her body as she speaks. A gentle grunt gets muffled in her sweater, her toes curling into the space between your knees and it hurts, stings a little, the desire you're holding back, and then it goes right through you like fire, sharp.
(Part of you is incredibly stupid - but you think the truth is it doesn't matter.)
Yujin's kneeling over your chest, and her bottom lip, plump and lush, catches between her teeth. "Can you think of anyway to be useful?"
"A lot," you choke. It's true.
Yujin makes a noise. "Proof. Evidence. Put up."
The movement she makes - twisting of legs and stomach flexing and the fabric of her shorts down off her ankles - is one single, fluid motion and for a second you're distracted by how quickly she's gotten you there. Thighs resting over your shoulders, the only thing your lungs seem to remember how to do is want.
"Come on." She bounces her knees a bit. "Dick or mouth, get going."
You should really say something smart, show her how clever and charming you can be, how you've actually got a lot to show the hottest girl in the world - and sometimes Yujin giggles like she's shocked  about it all herself, but right now her eyebrows are raising, expectant and challenging and it makes it difficult to think when there's an open invitation inches away for you to bury yourself in. Your lips feel like sandpaper when you kiss the inside of her thigh. Her hips stutter and drop an inch as your tongue works its way out, thick and obscene and it shouldn't be so thrilling to hear her so low, so urgent when you have no say, really, in how this is going to go -
"Take care of me, yeah?" she practically whispers the words - all while your fingertips drag along her outer thighs until her spine straightens, gets her shoulders pushed back, her breathing louder, somehow, as if you couldn't feel her need without knowing already exactly what you can do for her.
And the most honest thing you could say in the moment, because Yujin has her panties stretched to the side, revealing the inviting creases where her long legs meet her hips - for god’s sake, her pussy is right fucking there, inches in front of you; glistening slightly in her own slick and looking so, so pretty - the words get kissed right into the curve of her thigh: "It's not fair."
The look she gives you makes it worth it. "Excuse me?"
"You asked, didn't you. It's not fair that your pussy's so good that I can't think about anything else."
She huffs, her thighs shaking just a little with the effort of staying put. "So, what," and your mouth closes in, kiss deep, your nose pressed in right at the peak of her folds, her entrance, and you try not to drool as you inhale and drag the flat of your tongue in, hard, where she's desperate for you, "you think this should all go in reverse or something, like I should worship your dick until you stop being a useless perv - "
But the insult dies in her throat. A moan comes out instead, harsh, deep, loud and enough that Yujin slaps her palm over her own mouth before throwing an impatient scowl down at you.
Here's what you'd tell her, if you weren't busy licking circles into the ache leaking from her core, eating her cunt like a starving man, if you had the audacity. Yujin can't control herself. Doesn't help that she's sloppy. When her orgasm hits she will get louder and she doesn't even like the things that come out. That's the thing about Yujin, really. She says all this shit, and really, in the end, she wants a good fuck so bad she can't keep her mouth shut, but the noises she makes are exactly the same as the sounds that you choke on -
Because as pretty and easy and fun to kiss as she can be, the absolute best thing about your relationship is that the more orgasms she gets the less she can breathe, much less control what the fuck she's saying to you. It's cute and hilarious and beautiful, when she forgets, when she gives everything up because in the end it's never any competition, the way she fucks, is so desperate. Her hips work themselves into your grip, over and over and over again, like they are meant for this. 
For getting off on your mouth alone.
All you know right now is that with the way you have your hands on her - one still holding her panties open and the other squeezed tight around the muscle of her outer thigh - it's like her clit's directly in line with the back of your throat. If you press your lips around her pussy and hold them firm, just like the way her knees are starting to tighten around your face, she's going to come. It will hurt her and it will leave her completely boneless, and you've fucked this much to the point where you have learned, well, she can never complain.
Not that she would. The slick dripping down your cheeks and throat and down to the front of your shirt - it's fucking everywhere - makes it obvious: any ability to talk is replaced with her just grinding her pussy against you, bucking and shouting, riding and writhing until you decide her pretty little pink slit can have another taste. 
Her only other option, really, is clenching and throbbing and cumming as hard as she can all over your waiting tongue.
"Hey. Get your fucking mouth back down," she breathes, taking her fingers out of her cunt and then promptly pushing your head back in, "and - uhnn, I - yeah, exactly. Mmmnghh - "
You smile, muffled and hot against the fabric of her thighs, her fingers twisting in the hair behind your ears and tugging firmly. "Oh."
"What did you want again?" she asks - except her body tells a different story, all flushed and keening and, fuck, absolutely soaked from your touch - she rocks against the base of your chin, slumping and dropping down and letting gravity do its work. You work your tongue over her throbbing clit, again, again, and Yujin moans loudly. So pleased.
Just this mess she's made of you. The smell that coats your nose, and chin, the way it feels when she ruts her whole body against the place where she's worked the hardest. Her breath stalls where you start to breathe in, and looking up at the cinched look in her face you press further.
It’s every little circle lick and lave and gentle nudge of the tip of your nose, where the feeling makes her cry out, where the sensation, overstimulated, is close to that perfect balance between too much and not quite enough, all while working your fingers into the swell of her ass, and finally her hips make small, greedy, selfish thrusts into your mouth.
She sobs for you. You sigh, contented, because you don't even need to ask.
"You're so fucking good," she murmurs, heel of her palm pushed into her eyes like she's struggling with a headache. "God, fuck, do that again."
It's so wet on your chin already, but you do it again, just for the way she bucks into it.
You give her the closest thing you have, your thumb riding the rim of her ass, tongue rubbing, stroking her pussy faster. Yujin's teeth work against the insides of her mouth as her hips shift forward, and she is clenching and begging for the cock you know would make her scream if you just stood her on her hands and fucked her from behind - it's such a cruel way of making her work to feel so fucking amazing - but you're here to indulge, and really, when she shivers and pleads the exact way she does, your mouth still full, how are you supposed to do anything besides fucking obey.
Yujin reaches up to grab onto the edge of the couch, anything to brace herself as her cunt sloppily gets wetter. The thickest part of your tongue is good enough for this. Everything about her clit is just this dull, swollen throb. Begging to be worked over the way you're licking at the entrance to her pussy, inside and all, kissing, sucking, kneading, pulling, - fucking her just right - until she starts fucking cursing up a storm.
"Oh god, god, oh fuck fuck, fuck," her hips shift until she's the only one riding, the only one fucking. Until you just get to lay there with your lips slack, drooling open, hands a frame for her entire body while she works your face, and nothing could be better - "yeah, oh, fuck, fuck yes - yeah - fuck, hahhh. You're going to make me fucking cum-"
And you almost say it: that's your line - it's not enough, you'll never have enough of her cunt - her clit or the slit, where she leaks, thick and sticky. Her slick tastes heavy on your tongue, and you can't swallow fast enough. Your fingers are so deep into the pliable skin of her ass - digging and needy and reaching for where she's tightest. Her hands pull sharply at your hair. You feel her, tightening her ass around your finger, cumming wet across your cheekbones and -
It goes on, her body pressing into you, until with a sudden snap of a cry, she cums.
“God, fuck-”
If Yujin doesn't have to see the look on your face after getting her off this hard, it's only because the pressure in her body has her knees across your eyes forced shut. A spasm clenches, almost rhythmic, through her thighs, and god, Yujin just cums her brains out. It's pretty hot. You make it count: pushing your fingers just as deep into her pussy, working, exploring - right as her whole body is tensing and coming apart and your other hand circles, two fingers, dipping down and through the cleft of her ass and into her tightest, hottest hole -
You know better than to rub at her entrance once the ripples and waves start - instead, it's more pressure.
Pushing up as deep as you can and your lips mouthing at her folds while her hips squirm for something harder, something stronger and with intent - like, maybe, if she thinks she is trying to push away, she will start to believe that the mess running from her hole isn't hers. It's yours. All that liquid heat pooling below her and what could ever make sense other than she needs more? She needs the way she trembles and shakes, the way her pussy weeps as you wring it for the pleasure that's well on its way -
You always feel like an idiot after, stupid with how much you enjoy this, what she gives you, but how could it be anything but fantastic, your vision dizzying when it swims from lightheadedness and the lack of oxygen to your brain. Yujin's holding you right where she needs, right between her thighs and next to perfection, just tight enough for you to groan, to make a low whine build in the back of your throat and that gets her, too.
There is the rush and a wave, the heat, of something that crests and breaks in her that has to match the absolute loss of control she seems to have all along - the only part you feel you are sure about is that Yujin always rides her cunt - all dripping lips and aching holes, swollen and flaring and practically begging to be fucked harder and more thoroughly - into every orgasm she's taken from you, until there's no where to run.
Even through your nose, and you're suffocating, her legs trembling with the rush of it all. You're gasping and shaking but she's shaking apart and you need that: to feel her melt from where her body collapses all its weight onto you and the way the aftershocks have to make it seem, at least for a moment, that she’ll never, ever recover.
"Fuck," Yujin sighs, "I fucking hate you."
(Translation: she can't fucking live without you.)
"Any time," you murmur and her entire body falls into you, straddled across your chest and slumped there, sweaty and spent. Your heart beats the moment, trying to remember when it was you could stop feeling this way about your roommate.
A part of you believes that, once upon a time, before all of this started, that your desire, your lust was rooted in seeing a friend who was beyond hot and simply unavailable.
A bigger part of you knows that asking for clarity isn't the point - because maybe, right now, in the way your hand has started massaging the soft skin under the curve of her spine, you should realize you can't live with it never happening again.
"What's my balance," you ask, rubbing your thumb into the crook behind her knee.
"Mm?"
You exhale.
"Two. I think you're good for two."
You laugh. "For real?"
She stretches.
"Or I suppose we can go for four or five, but that means you're paying for dinner, too." Yujin does this thing with her hair when she's excited. Swings it back, smiling wide.
Which is fair, you think, given the pulse between your legs throbbing and twitching as you picture it: the curve of Yujin's waist and the drop of her lower back, her bare ass. Her soaked little slit that can't help but beg to fucked and fucked and fucked, until she's trembling and quivering and leaking-
"Then I'm gonna eat," you promise her, "every last inch. Going to taste you and swallow."
Yujin shifts, sitting astride you.
You hum. "Still interested."
She simply kisses you - breathes you in - tasting herself on your lips and tongue, before leaning back with her palms flat against your chest and taking it slow as she starts to ease you into the kind of sex that doesn't leave either one of you with a throat quite so raw and dry.
So it's quiet in your apartment, just for a little while, when the afternoon starts to settle in and she rolls back onto her heels, not able to support the rest of her. You fuck her deep and it's amazing how quickly you both fall into rhythm. Yujin's clutching hard on either side of your hips. Folding herself back. Trying, by the end, to bury you where her fingers have been.
By the time she gets herself up on the couch, belly flat against the cushions and her hips arched back as she fucks herself with the length of your dick, you're just desperate. Aching in a way you know will happen any moment and even so, you can't even bring yourself to consider stopping because this is perfect - it's everything, really. To push her down, hold her still, and fuck her so thoroughly that she cries and shudders as you spill into her.
To have her.
Yujin holds a part of yourself so tender, something you have kept close for far too long, and watching her with her arm reached behind herself, clutching blindly with her fingers, as her moans go quiet with just these whimpery, little things, a thought occurs to you, of exactly how dangerous your roommate is -
Because with you fucking into her like this, this is more than sex ought to be. More than it’s ever been.
(More dangerous yet is thinking: maybe - perhaps - it is exactly what Yujin wanted, from the start.)
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permanentswaps · 4 months
Text
Hello, Dad
Read Part 1 by @possessionbodythief.
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Two years have passed since that fateful night, and I’ve settled into my new life as Jake with surprising ease. Watching the residents of the house over the years has proven invaluable in adapting to the modern world. My mannerisms have changed, but since the real Jake had always been uncertain about how his dad would react to being in a new body, it didn’t matter much. People around me simply chalk it up to growing up and finding myself.
After some time living with "my dad" - or Jake now in Robert's body - in the old house, I realized I needed my own space to truly embrace this new life. Moving out was a big step, but one I knew I had to take. I found a small apartment downtown with a view of the city skyline, a far cry from the haunted house I was confined to for decades. This place, with its modern amenities and vibrant surroundings, felt like a breath of fresh air. The sense of freedom and independence was exhilarating, something I had never known in my previous life.
"It's so good to be free," I whisper to myself, a smile spreading across my face.
My phone buzzes, pulling me out of my reverie. It's a text from "my dad."
"Hey Jake, you wanna grab dinner tonight? Been missing you."
My smile widens. I quickly text back.
"Sure, Dad. There's a new spot near here I've been meaning to try, wanna meet at 7?"
"Perfect. See you then, kiddo."
I put my phone down, thinking about how much has changed. Lately, I've been working out a lot. I feel a bit bad for Jake; he was just kinda impatient. It would've happened for him eventually if he had kept with a routine. I mean look at the transformation from then to now:
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But hey, his impatience is my gain. I'm still more lean than buff right now, but that's how I like it. There are a bunch of cute guys checking me out all the time. I've even managed to get a hot boyfriend.
But it seems Jake has noticed the changes the most. He even jokingly muses, "Damn, what I would've done to have a body like yours at that age." He's kidding, of course. He never experienced this age. In fact, we still have never mentioned the swap – thank God, 'cause I don't want to risk him finding out who I really am in this body. Jake seems to be completely comfortable in his new body, never showing any signs of sadness or jealousy. He truly embraces his role as Robert and appears genuinely happy.
But sometimes, he throws in these playful comments that catch me off guard. Like the other day, I was stretching after a workout, and he walks in, giving me an exaggerated once-over.
"Look at you, all limber and toned. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying to impress someone," he said with a wink.
He smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Well, you're definitely turning heads. Just make sure you don't break too many hearts."
I grinned back at him. "And look at you, Dad. You're in fantastic shape. You've got those muscles everyone dreams of."
Jake's eyes gleamed with pride as he flexed his bicep. "Damn right. I know I've got it going on."
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Another time, we were out for dinner, and I mentioned I was thinking of getting a new wardrobe.
"Oh really?" he replied, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Trying to show off those gains? I can't blame you. If I had your body, I'd probably never wear a shirt."
I chuckled, feeling a flush creep up my neck. "Maybe I'll take your advice and start a new trend."
It's not just my body that's improved, though. Jake has also been hitting the gym hard. He's in fantastic shape, even better than when I first took over this body. His muscles are more defined, and his confidence radiates in every movement.
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As I step into the upscale restaurant, the blend of modern design and rustic charm immediately catches my eye. String lights are draped across the space, casting a warm, inviting glow over the wooden tables and cushioned benches. The walls are adorned with lush greenery and vibrant flower arrangements, creating a serene and picturesque ambiance. The gentle sound of a nearby water fountain adds to the tranquil atmosphere. The tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pizzas and herbed garlic bread fills the air, making my mouth water.
Jake is already there, waiting at our table. He looks up and grins when he sees me.
"Hey, kiddo," he says, standing up to give me a hug.
"Hey, Dad," I reply, embracing him warmly. "This place looks amazing. Ready for a feast?"
"You bet," he says with a laugh as we take our seats.
We start by ordering a variety of appetizers: bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes and basil, crispy calamari, and a charcuterie board that looks almost too good to eat.
"These bruschettas are amazing," Jake says, biting into one.
I nod. "Definitely. This place is awesome."
As we work our way through the appetizers and move on to the main course, a handsome waiter catches Jake's eye. He can't help but flirt, turning on the charm with every word. The waiter, clearly interested, flirts back, and by the time dessert arrives, Jake has the waiter's phone number scrawled on a napkin.
I can't help but laugh. "Wow, Dad, you're really on fire tonight."
Jake grins, waving the napkin. "What can I say? When you've got it, you've got it."
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We finish our meal with splitting a tiramisu. As we're wrapping up, Jake leans over, a serious look in his eyes. "Hey, why don't you come back home tonight? I've missed having you around recently. I'd really like it if you stayed over."
"Sure, Dad," I say, smiling. "I'd love to."
When we get home, he catches me looking at myself in the mirror, admiring my progress. The muscles I've worked so hard to develop are finally starting to show, and there's a newfound confidence in my reflection. Jake walks up behind me, his presence warm and reassuring.
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"You know, you've got this whole 'boy-next-door' vibe going, but with an edge. It's... intriguing."
I chuckle, a bit embarrassed but also pleased by his words. He steps closer and grabs my waist, his hands firm yet gentle.
He looks at me in the mirror, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "See, I told you," he says with a twinge of irony, "You just needed to wait for your growth spurt."
I turn to face him, our eyes meeting. "I guess you were right," I say, with a knowing smile. "It just took a little time."
A look of lust flashes over his eyes, and I feel a thrill run down my spine. He moves closer, his hands sliding up to my shoulders, giving them a firm, appreciative squeeze.
"And now you’re all grown up," he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
Before I can respond, his lips are on mine, capturing me in a deep, passionate kiss. My body reacts instantly, pressing against him, the heat between us igniting something primal and intense. It's been two years since we last shared this kind of intimacy, and the hunger in his eyes tells me he’s been waiting just as long.
He guides me to the bedroom, our kisses growing more urgent, our touches more desperate. The anticipation builds as we shed our clothes, revealing the bodies we’ve both worked so hard to perfect. The air is charged with electricity, the desire between us palpable.
Jake pushes me gently onto the bed, his eyes roaming over my body with a mix of pride and lust. "You're perfect," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.
He joins me on the bed, his hands exploring every inch of my skin, rekindling the flames of our past encounters. I gasp as his lips find the sensitive spots on my neck, my chest, my inner thighs. The pleasure is overwhelming, each touch sending waves of ecstasy through me.
When he finally enters me, it’s like coming home. The connection between us is deeper than ever, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. Every thrust brings us closer to the edge, the intensity building until it’s almost unbearable. I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I match his rhythm, our breaths coming in ragged gasps.
"It's been too long," Jake groans, his breath hot against my ear. "I’ve missed this."
"Me too," I gasp, my hands clutching at his back, urging him deeper. "God, I've missed this."
His pace quickens, each thrust more powerful than the last. The room is filled with the sounds of our passion—the slap of skin against skin, the low moans and gasps, the whispered words of desire. I can feel myself getting closer, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in my core.
Jake's hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, deeper. "You're mine," he whispers fiercely, his eyes locked on mine. "Always."
"Yes, Daddy," I moan, the words slipping out naturally, a thrill of submission coursing through me. "I'm yours."
The intensity of his gaze, the possessiveness in his voice, sends me over the edge. I cry out, my body arching beneath him as pleasure crashes over me, wave after wave. He follows moments later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he finds his release, collapsing onto me, spent and sated.
We lie there, tangled in each other’s arms, the afterglow of our lovemaking still shimmering around us. His weight is comforting, his presence a soothing balm. I run my fingers through his hair, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against mine.
"That was incredible," I murmur, my voice soft and breathless.
He leans down to kiss me again, slow and sweet, a promise of more to come.
438 notes · View notes
edenesth · 4 months
Text
TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [2]
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Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader
AU: historical au (Joseon era)
Word Count: 10.7k 🤡
Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.
A/N: I'd recommend listening to Laufey's Valentine while reading this, the song is quite perfect for this spinoff.
Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist
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"Now, tell me, why were you crying?" you inquired, halting at the doorway of your house, careful to shield your mother from the conversation. You understood that she would only blame herself if she knew he was upset, despite none of it being her fault. Deep down, you knew she carried the burden of not being able to protect her children, always feeling like an inadequate mother.
Siwoo shook his head, "It's nothing, noona. I just... I was just overwhelmed with all the schoolwork on my first day. But don't worry about me, I feel much better after letting it all out," he reassured, attempting to alleviate your concerns. Yet, you couldn't fully accept his explanation. While a part of you ached to think he might have been bullied by his classmates, as you had feared, another part of you swelled with pride at his resilience.
That's my boy.
"Is that so? Well, come on then, dinner might be ready," you responded, and he brightened at the mention of food. "Dinner sounds good, I'm starving! Mother, we're home!" he called out excitedly, darting into your modest abode almost immediately.
"How was school, Siwoo?" your mother asked, her fingers smoothing down his unruly hair as he dug into his meal with gusto. Siwoo grinned and nodded. "It was okay! Master Lee looked after me really well, just like noona said he would!" Your mother smiled warmly and wiped a stray bit of food from his cheek. "That's good to hear."
You couldn't help but smile at their exchange, though you sensed Siwoo's words were meant to reassure your mother more than convey his true feelings. While Master Lee might have looked after him in their presence, you knew all too well the dynamics of school life and the possibility of bullying when no adults were around. Unfortunately, he would have to learn to navigate those challenges, just as you had.
Finishing your meal, you tousled your brother's hair. "So, what did that man from earlier say to you?" Your mother raised a curious eyebrow. "Man? What man?" Siwoo perked up. "Oh, that kind hyung-nim! He was just making sure I was okay."
You scoffed. "Kind? You don't even know him. People can seem nice but have hidden motives. Don't trust too easily, or he might want something from you." Turning to your mother, you elaborated, "It's His Majesty's royal secretary. We had an unpleasant encounter at the palace. I had hoped never to see him again, but somehow he was at Siwoo's school when I went to pick him up. How many coincidences can there be? I'm certain he's up to something. So, you," you directed a stern look at your brother. "Don't entertain him if he shows up again, okay?"
Siwoo nodded reluctantly, his expression turning sullen. Your mother shook her head. "Or perhaps he's genuinely nice...? He's an important figure, after all. You shouldn't make an enemy out of him, dear. I worry for you." You offered her a reassuring smile. "I'll handle it, mother. Don't worry about me."
Later that night, as you lay in bed, the soft breathing of your brother beside you with a comforting rhythm, you couldn't help but feel a pang of bittersweet emotion. Siwoo, once the tiny bundle you cradled in your arms, had grown so quickly before your eyes. Memories of his infancy flooded your mind, the moments when you'd rocked him to sleep and comforted his tears.
Now, here he was, trying to shield his own emotions from you, not wanting to burden you with his struggles. Your heart swelled with both pride and a tinge of sadness as you gently stroked his head, leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his forehead. How you wished he could remain your precious little brother forever, sheltered from life's harsh realities.
Yet, another part of you longed for him to mature, to become the pillar of strength this family needed. You yearned for the day when he would stand beside you as a protector, capable of shouldering the burdens that weighed heavily on your shoulders.
"Sweet dreams, little one," you whispered softly, your voice barely a whisper in the darkness. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, letting the tranquillity of the night envelop you as you drifted into slumber, your dreams filled with hopes for the future.
The next day unfolded much like the one before, with the familiar routine of dropping Siwoo off at school. Kneeling beside him, you tenderly adjusted his hanbok and smoothed down his hair, your actions a comforting ritual between siblings.
"Well, I have no new advice for you today, except to stay strong and not let the words of others affect you. Remember, they're just words, and you can choose not to let them bother you," you imparted, noticing the flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he had been caught keeping secrets from you. With a warm smile, you gently pinched his cheeks to alleviate any worries he might have.
"Now, go on and get in there. And no causing trouble!" you teased, prompting a playful protest from Siwoo as he swatted your hands away and stuck out his tongue. "Bye, noona! See you later!" he called out cheerfully as he headed off to join his classmates.
As you watched him go, a soft smile lingered on your lips, filled with both pride and a touch of wistfulness.
He'll be fine; we've been over this.
You proceeded towards your educational institution to resume your own studies, putting aside worries about your brother for the moment. As you arrived at the entrance, you took a deep breath to ready yourself before entering, clutching your books tightly to your chest.
"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence. Miss Smarty Pants finally showed up. Heard she even resorted to borrowing books from the royal library," Namgil, the scholar with the wealthiest father and your longtime tormentor, remarked as he annoyingly strolled alongside you, trailed by his group of cronies. One of them chimed in with a smirk, "Poor thing can't even afford her own books. Maybe if she catches the eye of some high-ranking officials in the palace, she won't need to study so hard at all."
Maintaining a neutral expression, you continued walking towards the foyer, where you could begin your studies undisturbed with the presence of teachers. Despite the taunting remarks being a regular occurrence during your journey from the outside to the inside of the institution, you had grown accustomed to them.
Reaching the foyer, you pivoted to face the group with a wide, sarcastic grin. "Well, boys, have you had your fill? If we're done wasting precious time trying to bring others down to boost our own fragile egos, maybe we should focus on our studies. After all, if we want to avoid squandering dear old daddy's money, we'll need to graduate. Time's ticking, gentlemen. Are we going to remain stuck in this childish behaviour forever?"
The satisfaction was palpable as you flashed a victorious smile and turned to stride into the foyer, leaving them no room for a rebuttal as a teacher emerged to greet the group. They hastily composed themselves, offering respectful bows and pretending as though nothing had happened.
Fools, you thought to yourself. This was precisely why you harboured such disdain for men. They were simplistic creatures, falling into one of two categories. The first, like Namgil and his cronies, were openly mean-spirited, condescending, and misogynistic. The second, exemplified by Royal Secretary Choi, was the cunning, duplicitous types who sought to earn your trust through false kindness before exploiting you. In the end, they were all cut from the same cloth.
At the end of the session, following a quiz intended to assess everyone's preparedness for the final examination, you unsurprisingly emerged as the top scorer once again. The teacher's announcement was met with the usual mixture of reactions, but your attention was drawn to his subsequent remarks.
"Miss Moon, once again, you've secured the top spot. Namgil, while second place may seem like an achievement, you should feel nothing but shame. All of you should. It's unacceptable to be outperformed by a woman. Study harder; I expect to see a different outcome in the next quiz."
You shook your head in disbelief at the teacher's words, seething inwardly at his ingrained bias. The implication that a woman should not surpass men in intellect spoke volumes about his archaic mentality. You were tired of being spoken about as if you weren't in the room, tired of the inherent sexism that permeated every aspect of your academic life. Graduation couldn't come soon enough; you were determined to prove these narrow-minded individuals wrong.
I'll show you morons.
"Oh boy, I know that look," Haneul remarked, shaking her head with a disapproving sigh as San emerged from his room the next day. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, his usual enthusiasm and determination shone through. She suspected her discouraging words from the previous evening had backfired, knowing her brother was just an optimistic idiot like that.
He scoffed, "What do you know? Go home already, noona. Your husband might start to worry if you keep visiting so often."
With a smirk, she lightly whacked him on the head. "I'm leaving today, don't you worry. But don't say I didn't warn you when whatever silly plan you might have ends up falling through. You men just love learning things the hard way, don't you? Let her be, Sannie."
"Yeah, yeah. Safe travels. I'll catch you later."
Haneul rolled her eyes in defeat. "Fine, fine. Send me away like I'm a nuisance. You should learn something from little Siwoo."
Turning back with a sarcastic grin, the royal secretary teased, "If you say so... love you, noona!" and blew her exaggerated kisses, earning a mockingly disgusted reaction. "Yuck! Save that for your future wife, gross!" she exclaimed, pretending to gag.
San strode through the palace corridors with newfound determination, his mind buzzing with plans and possibilities. He greeted the palace staff with a bright smile and a confident demeanour, earning curious glances from those he passed.
As he approached the royal study, he couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. Today was the day he would begin executing his plan, the day he would show Scholar Moon that he was different from the rest, that he was sincere in his intentions.
Entering the king's presence, San found himself greeted with the warm smile of His Majesty. The elderly man's eyes twinkled with amusement as he observed his secretary's energy.
"You seem quite cheerful today, Royal Secretary Choi. Anything exciting happening in your life?" the king inquired with a chuckle as their daily meeting concluded.
San's grin widened, his heart racing with anticipation. "I suppose so, Your Majesty. I won't say more until I see positive results," he replied cryptically, unknowingly leaving the king to interpret his words as he wished. Little did the fool know, his vague response led His Majesty to believe he was referring to romantic pursuits.
The king's face lit up. "Oh, I can't wait to hear the good news. Best of luck, my boy. That's all for today. Carry on with your tasks," he said with a playful wink, dismissing San with a clap of his hands.
Secretary Choi bowed deeply, feeling grateful. "Thank you, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed before leaving the royal study, his mind already buzzing with plans to win over the female scholar.
He made his way through the library, exchanging nods with a few scholars absorbed in their studies. As he searched the aisles, hope waned with each passing moment. Nearly ready to give up, he reluctantly admitted to himself that you might not be there today. With a resigned sigh, he turned to leave.
But as he moved to exit, a flash of movement caught his eye. Turning back, he was stunned to see you tucked away in a quiet corner, fast asleep amidst a pile of borrowed books. A wave of tenderness washed over him at the sight of your peaceful form, and he approached you with silent steps, not wanting to disturb your rest.
He couldn't resist the urge to approach and observe you, struck by how serene and angelic you appeared in your slumber, a stark contrast to your usual tough and guarded demeanour. Seeing the sunlight streaming in from the nearby window and casting a glare on your face, he settled into the seat opposite you. With a gentle touch, he lifted his hand to shield you from the brightness, intent on preserving your peaceful rest.
Looking down at you like this, perhaps it was his innate sense of chivalry, but it stirred an intense urge to protect you, to help shoulder some of the burdens you must be carrying on those delicate shoulders of yours. He couldn't shake the feeling of admiration mingled with empathy as he watched you, lost in tranquil slumber amidst the chaos of the world around you. With a soft sigh, he longed to offer you more than just protection from the sun's glare, yearning to provide solace and support in any way possible.
As he watched you stir, letting out a small groan before readjusting your head and settling back into sleep, he felt a slight panic. However, his worry melted away when he realised you were merely shifting in your slumber. A soft sigh escaped him, accompanied by a gentle smile and a flutter in his heart at how endearing you looked.
Gosh, she looks adorable.
Resting his head on his palm, he continued to observe, noting the subtle signs of exhaustion etched across your beautiful face. Unlike other girls or women who likely had access to luxurious skincare products or ample rest to maintain their beauty, it was evident that any resources you had were dedicated to supporting your family and pursuing your studies. His gaze drifted to your hands, noticing the dry skin, blunt nails and paper cuts, evidence of both physical labour and tireless studying.
Gazing at you, his mind wandered to the challenges and hardships you must have faced throughout your childhood, shaping you into the resilient and guarded person you are today. He pondered on the beliefs you held about men, likely influenced by your past experiences. Working in the palace, San was all too familiar with the despicable behaviour of some men, having witnessed their deceit and manipulation firsthand. He understood, perhaps more than most, your strong aversion and distrust of men.
Yet, in his heart, he believed that you hadn't met men like him and his friends—men of integrity and genuine kindness. Determined to prove to you that good men existed, he resolved to show you through his actions. He was determined to be the exception, to demonstrate that not all men were as duplicitous as those you had encountered before. And in that moment, as he watched over you, he silently vowed to be the beacon of goodness and sincerity that you deserved.
Lost in his contemplations, he was jolted back to reality when he felt your hand push his away. Startled, he blinked, realising that the sun he had been shielding you from was now obscured by clouds. Your voice, sharp and incredulous, pierced through his thoughts.
"What in the world do you think you're doing, Royal Secretary Choi?" you demanded, your tone laced with annoyance and curiosity.
Flustered and caught off guard by your abrupt interruption, San quickly cleared his throat and straightened in his seat, feeling the weight of your scrutiny upon him. He could only imagine how his actions must have appeared from your perspective: waking up to find an uninvited man seated across from you, hand raised in an attempt to shield you from the absent sun.
"I-I can explain," he stammered, scrambling to find the right words to justify his actions. "I was just trying to—"
But before he could finish his sentence, you cut him off with a sarcastic smile, your words dripping with disdain.
"Let me guess," you said, your tone biting. "You just wanted to help? I thought I made myself very clear yesterday, but it seems I might not have. In case you missed the point, I'll repeat it again: I don't need your help. Thank you very much."
With that, you gathered all the books in your arms and swiftly exited, leaving him feeling chastised and uncertain of how to proceed.
As he sat frozen in his seat, watching your retreating figure, the royal secretary couldn't help but admire your firm resolve. Instead of feeling discouraged by your rejection, he found himself respecting you even more for it. Your unwavering stance showed him that you weren't one to let someone into your life easily, and in a world where men could be deceitful and manipulative, that was a reassuring trait. He couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for you, even as he remained seated in the library, contemplating his next move.
Making your way out of the palace, your heart still raced from the encounter in the library as you clutched the stack of borrowed books close to your chest. Unbeknownst to Secretary Choi, you had been awake for some time, waiting to see what he would do, ready to catch him red-handed if he attempted anything untoward.
To your unpleasant surprise, you found that the glaring sun that had once been on your face was gone. Peeking through your lashes, you observed San going to great lengths to shield you from the brightness, even though he must have assumed you were still asleep. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes about his character.
Even with his apparent kindness, you couldn't bring yourself to believe that he had done it without any ulterior motives. There had to be something he wanted from you; you were sure of it. You refused to let your guard down, you remained determined to stay wary of his intentions.
Despite your hopes that San would quit his efforts after the incident in the library, he proved to be annoyingly persistent. However, to your surprise, he no longer offered unsolicited help, seemingly aware that you had not asked for it. Instead, he chose a different approach to get closer to you.
Every day as you entered the palace, he greeted you with a bright smile and a friendly "good morning." You found his amiable demeanour irritating because it made it challenging for you to be rude to him when he was simply being a nice and sociable person. With no choice but to reciprocate his greetings, you returned them with a forced smile of your own, not wanting to appear impolite in front of other palace staff.
Today was no different, much to your dismay. Despite your multiple attempts to arrive either earlier or later than your usual time, he always seemed to be there. Deep down, you wanted to bluntly ask him if he had nothing better to do. Shouldn't a royal secretary be busy? Why was he always lingering around?
Approaching the entrance and spotting him, you couldn't help but slap a hand on your forehead in frustration. You tried to turn away, but he called out to you before you could make your escape.
"Scholar Moon! I see you're here early today. Good morning!" he exclaimed cheerfully.
You cursed under your breath and reluctantly turned back to feign a smile, bowing respectfully. "Indeed, I am... Good morning, Royal Secretary Choi," you replied through gritted teeth.
He beamed at you and gestured for you to join him. "Come, let us head in together!"
Letting out a sigh of disbelief, you put on your best fake smile and complied, knowing it wouldn't be in your best interest to be rude to someone of such high importance in front of other people. Damn it, you couldn't wait for the day to be over already.
Walking beside him, you sought a moment of tranquillity, but as expected, he initiated an unwanted conversation like always.
"How's Siwoo adjusting to school?" he asked, his tone overly chipper.
Suppressing the urge to roll your eyes, you briefly squeezed them shut before replying, "He's doing well. Thank you for asking."
His smile widened at your response. "That's great! I just hope he's feeling better than the last time I saw him. Poor boy was so upset."
You sighed, cutting him off before he could continue. "Yes, but he'll live—"
Before you could finish, a group of rushing court ladies surged around the corner. "Out of the way! Concubine Eom Heebin is giving birth!" Amidst the commotion, you were shoved aside, but a firm pair of arms caught you, guiding you to safety—San's arms.
You landed against his chest with a huff, and he peered down at you with wide eyes. "Careful there, watch your step! You alright?" His words lacked their usual formality, driven purely by instinct.
San gulped audibly, his gaze lingering on your features as if trying to memorise every detail. He marvelled at how beautiful you looked up close, relishing the sensation of holding you tightly against him. It felt strangely satisfying to shield you from danger, to have you vulnerable in his arms. There was an inexplicable desire within him to be the only one who knew how it felt to hold you like this.
Meanwhile, you felt a conflicting array of emotions swirling within you as you found yourself in his embrace. Despite your best efforts to maintain your dislike for him, you couldn't deny the unexpected sense of safety and comfort you felt in his arms. It unsettled you, this lack of disgust, and you hated how nice it felt, how it threatened to unravel the walls you had carefully constructed around your heart.
Realising your proximity, you blinked rapidly and pushed yourself away. "Y-yes, I'm fine. Thank you..." For once, you meant it.
Days passed, and you found yourself in a state of inner conflict whenever you were around him. Previously, you had to force yourself to maintain politeness and hide your disdain for him, but now, it was becoming increasingly difficult to be unpleasant.
You despised this newfound feeling of guilt he stirred within you, as if he was silently reproaching you for your past behaviour. Moreover, he continued to prove himself to be just as kind as everyone claimed, further complicating your emotions.
Hate brewed within you—not for the royal secretary as a person, but for the way he was challenging your beliefs about all men being alike. He made you start to doubt the certainties you once held dear, and you resented him for it. Most of all, you detested how he was making it difficult for you to maintain your animosity towards him.
Regardless of the swirling new emotions within you, one thing remained constant: your determination to avoid him at all costs. You were sick and tired of the conflicting feelings he stirred within you, and you knew that indulging in them would only serve as a distraction from your studies.
You needed to maintain your focus and drive, especially now when your responsibilities weighed heavily on your shoulders. The last thing you needed was to be sidetracked by unnecessary emotions brought about by a man, of all things.
But of course, life seemed determined to defy your efforts. Despite your best attempts to avoid him, it felt like he was everywhere you turned. With each passing day, you found yourself encountering him more frequently, almost as if he were purposely crossing your path.
The realisation was hard to swallow: you were seeing him more often than your own mother and younger brother combined. It was infuriating to admit, but no matter how hard you tried to evade him, he seemed to find a way to appear wherever you were.
As you finished up your studies and prepared to leave the palace, a sense of relief washed over you. Today had been the first in what felt like an eternity without a sighting of Royal Secretary Choi. Hope flickered in your heart as you packed up your belongings, eager to leave the palace behind and reunite with your little brother.
But just as you approached the main entrance, the sky darkened ominously. Thunder rumbled, and lightning streaked across the sky before a torrential downpour engulfed the area. "No, no, no, not now! Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" you muttered under your breath, feeling frustration bubbling up inside you.
With no umbrella to shield you from the rain, you hurried to seek refuge under the closest shelter you could find: the awning of a nearby building. The sudden change in weather dashed your hopes of a smooth departure, leaving you stranded and drenched.
The thought of Siwoo waiting for you added to your unease. You cursed your lack of preparation, knowing that he would now have to endure more time with his bullies. It was another setback in a day that had promised to be free of Choi San's presence.
Yep, I'm convinced god hates me.
While you sheltered under the awning, your gaze remained fixed on the entrance, torn between the desire to run out into the rain to your brother and the realisation that falling sick was not an option. Too many people depended on you—your mother, your brother, and all the women in need of your assistance. You couldn't afford to be unwell, not with so many responsibilities resting on your shoulders.
Lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice a figure approaching from behind until the raindrops abruptly ceased falling around you. Looking up, you were met with the sight of an umbrella being held over your head. Startled, you turned to see San standing beside you, concern etched on his features.
"Are you alright, my lady? Please allow me to escort you to your destination," he said, his voice gentle and sincere.
The royal secretary's surprise was evident when he realised it was you, causing him to stumble over his words in an attempt to explain himself. "O-oh! It's you, Scholar Moon! I swear I didn't realise it was you, I thought you were a palace staff or someone else! I mean, I wasn't trying to offer help when you didn't want it, or maybe I was..."
He paused, then continued, "But I promise, I'm not making any assumptions! I can leave if you want me to... I'll leave the umbrella with you, of course, because obviously little Siwoo is waiting for you. Sorry, I don't mean to ramble... I just— here you go." Without waiting for your response, he thrust the umbrella into your hand and hurried off into the rain, leaving you standing frozen in bewilderment, trying to comprehend the unexpected encounter.
As you stood there, still holding the umbrella he had left behind, you couldn't shake off the words he had said. They lingered in your mind, his voice echoing gently, making you question your own feelings. For the first time, you understood why women might find him charming. Despite your resolve to dislike him, you couldn't deny his physical attractiveness and his gentlemanly nature.
But as you thought about it further, a new emotion crept in—an unsettling realisation that his kindness wasn't reserved for you alone. He would be just as sincere and helpful to anyone in need. Suddenly, a twinge of jealousy stirred within you. Why did it bother you that he treated others with kindness? Why did you feel upset that you weren't the only one receiving his attention? What was wrong with you?
Confusion clouded your thoughts as you grappled with these unfamiliar feelings. You couldn't understand why it mattered to you whether he was nice to everyone or not. But the fact that it did matter left you feeling even more bewildered. What were these emotions, and why the hell were they stirring within you now?
Lord, I must be out of my damn mind.
In the days that followed, your annoyance with San returned, but this time it was for a new reason—one you stubbornly refused to acknowledge. Despite your efforts to keep your distance and maintain your walls around him, you found it increasingly difficult to do so. His presence seemed to linger in your mind, his gentle demeanour and persistent kindness chipping away at your defences.
Meanwhile, the royal secretary remained hopeful after his recent encounters with you. He noticed the subtle changes in your behaviour—the once sarcastic smiles and curt words slowly giving way to genuine attempts to interact with him. He knew your pride was likely the barrier keeping you from fully opening up to him, but he was determined to break through it.
Perhaps it was the sense of accomplishment he felt, but he found himself increasingly consumed by thoughts of you and the challenge of breaking down your barriers to earn your trust. Each day, he eagerly anticipated going to work, knowing he might catch a glimpse of your beautiful face. Lately, he noticed it revealing more than just anger and disdain—it showed hints of other emotions too. He longed to witness them all, to be the first and perhaps the only one to see them. He felt a swell of pride, both in himself and in your progress, even if you were unaware of it.
"You like her, don't you?" San's gaze snapped up to meet his mother's, his chewing momentarily halted as he raised a questioning brow. "What are you talking about, eomma?"
She grinned, gesturing towards the additional lunch box he had instructed the servants to prepare for work that day. "Oh, you mean Scholar Moon? I mean, yeah, I guess I do...? I like everyone," he responded with a cheerful beam. However, her expression shifted to one of knowingness as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not what I mean, you silly boy. You have feelings for her, don't you?"
He choked on his food in surprise at her assertion. "Huh? Wh-what makes you say that? You know about my mission to prove her prejudice wrong, that's all there is to it. I don't feel any differently about her than I do about any other lady."
With a knowing smirk, the elderly woman caused him to wince. It was the same sarcastic expression his sister always wore before delivering a harsh truth. "Oh yes, because you make a point to greet every female palace staff member every morning, ask about all their family members, never stop talking about them, and ensure to pack extra lunch for them all just like you do for Scholar Moon, isn't that right?"
As his mother's words settled in, a sudden revelation struck San like a bolt of lightning. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth that had been hidden from him until now. He couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had begun—perhaps it had lurked beneath the surface from the start, waiting for the right moment to surface.
He had been so preoccupied with proving to you that he was different, so focused on challenging your prejudices, that he hadn't stopped to consider his own feelings. What had started as a mission might have morphed into something more. The concern and care he felt for you went beyond mere kindness; it was a genuine desire to protect and support you.
Reflecting on the moments when you had occupied his thoughts—the incident in the library, the near-accident with the court ladies—he realised that his feelings ran deeper than he had admitted to himself. Even as he grappled with the conflict between wanting to take care of you and respecting your independence, he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. Choi San was a man with a lot of love to give, and he wasn't shy or ashamed to admit that he had developed feelings for you—feelings that transcended friendship or admiration. It was a realisation that both surprised and invigorated him, filling him with anticipation for what the future might hold.
But he wasn't stupid; he understood that acknowledging his feelings didn't equate to knowing yours or if you could ever reciprocate them. Despite this, he chose to find contentment in this understanding. He wouldn't expect anything from you in return. Your happiness would suffice to make him happy, even if it meant remaining mere acquaintances.
With this resolve, he bid his parents farewell before heading to work, his heart fluttering at the prospect of seeing you once more.
Later that afternoon, San strolled around the area where you often spent your lunch breaks. Spotting you in the secluded pavilion near the royal library, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Instead of your usual packed lunch, you were nibbling on a meagre steamed bun. Approaching you with a grin, he greeted you.
"Good afternoon, Scholar Moon. I see you're having lunch as well," he greeted, and you nodded quickly, feeling self-conscious and embarrassed about your modest meal. Just as you were about to ask him what he wanted, he revealed the bag of lunchboxes he had been hiding behind his back.
"That's wonderful then. My family estate kitchen staff seemed to have made an extra set of lunch, and I was just wondering if maybe you would like to have it," he offered. You raised a sceptical eyebrow. "An extra set? That seems highly unlikely to happen."
He tried to maintain his composure despite being caught in a fib. "Fine. If you're not interested in it, I'm sure there are other palace staff who would enjoy it," he said, turning to leave. Panic surged within you as he started to walk away. "W-wait! I'll take it... please," you pleaded, reaching out to grasp his arm. With a satisfied nod, he settled down beside you.
That's what I thought.
As you opened the meticulously prepared lunchbox, a look of awe graced your features. The royal secretary chuckled at your adorable expression. He observed as you hesitated for a moment, glancing at him as if seeking approval before starting to eat. With a nod of encouragement, he joined in.
Little did you know, he had overheard some court ladies discussing the struggles faced by a female scholar, which could only be you, as you were the only one known. They recounted your struggles to afford essentials at home due to your brother's school fees and your own lack of income, all because of your dedication to your studies.
As you both began to eat, you didn't notice San biting his lip to hold back his laughter. Your eyes had widened and sparkled with innocent amazement at the flavours, a look he had never seen before. The sight made his heart flutter, confirming his feelings for you. He wanted to protect that innocence forever and be the only one to witness this endearing sight. He could easily picture spending time with you like this for life, and he knew he wouldn’t complain.
When you looked up and caught him staring, he quickly returned his gaze to his food. You blushed and checked your lips for any stray rice, wondering why he had been looking at you like that. Like a creep.
How annoying.
Relieved that there was nothing on your face, you continued eating. However, you furrowed your brows as you noticed the secretary picking at his food from the corner of your eye. Unable to contain your curiosity, you turned to see him pushing aside all the greens in his container. Raising an eyebrow, you asked, "Saving the best for last?"
He chortled, "Like hell I am."
Realising what was going on, you scoffed, "Seriously? The great Royal Secretary Choi doesn't eat his vegetables? Even my brother eats his. You should be ashamed of yourself."
He sputtered, clearly embarrassed, and you snickered at how flustered he appeared over your teasing. Glaring at you, he retorted, "Is that any way to talk to the kind samaritan who just treated you to lunch?"
You shrugged. "I'll treat anyone who doesn't eat their veggies the same way, with discrimination. If you won't eat them, give them here, you big baby."
He pouted, about to hand them over until you added, "Siwoo's going to be so disappointed when he hears about this. He looks up to you and thinks of you as his role model, you know." You gasped, realising you had revealed something you hadn't meant to share, but all your regret dissolved when you saw his reaction to your words.
San's jaw dropped, and he quickly snatched the greens back, stuffing his face with them. "There, I finished them. You happy now?!"
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. In moments like this, you wondered how wonderful it would be if all men were like him. You admired how his eyes crinkled as he joined in your laughter. He could be so annoyingly cute and likeable. Gosh, you hated it. You hated how warm he was making you feel, hated how good it felt.
As the two of you calmed down from your giggles, the smiles remained on your faces. You finished the last of your food, neatly wrapped the lunchbox back up in his bag, and handed it to him. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi," you said, your voice sincere.
His heart skipped a beat at your genuine gratitude. With a nod of acknowledgement, he reached out to take the bag from you. Both your breaths hitched when your fingertips brushed against each other. The unexpected contact sent a small, electric jolt through you both, causing you to momentarily lock eyes.
San's eyes softened, filled with an emotion you couldn't quite place. The world seemed to pause, and for a fleeting moment, the two of you were the only ones that existed. You could feel your pulse quickening, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.
"You're welcome," he finally replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He took the bag, his fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary before pulling away.
You quickly looked down, trying to steady your racing heart. "I should get back to my studies," you said, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.
"Of course," he replied, standing up as well. "Take care, Scholar Moon."
With a final nod, you turned and walked away, feeling his gaze linger on your back. A small smile tugged at your lips as you wondered what it would be like if moments like these with him became a regular part of your life. You found your own thoughts baffling, as no man had ever made you feel such emotions before.
Could he possibly... be the only exception?
No, he could not.
You should have known better. Should have recognised the trouble he brought along despite his constant insistence on helping. Initially, you felt grateful for his frequent gestures, like bringing you lunch and accompanying you to pick up your brother from school during the rainy season, the three of you huddled under his umbrella—a sight that warmed your mother's heart.
For a while, it felt like being on Cloud 9. But in hindsight, you must have lost your mind to let him get so involved in your life. It seemed foolish to rely on him so much, to let him become so close to you and your family.
And inevitably, there were consequences.
You reached your breaking point when the bullying at your educational institution intensified. Rumours about you and the royal secretary spending time together spread like wildfire among your fellow scholars, leading to endless torment.
As you tried to leave the institution, hoping to find solace at home after enduring what felt like hours of torment, Namgil and his cronies blocked your path, their mocking laughter echoing around you like a cacophony of cruelty.
"Leaving so soon, Miss Smarty Pants? Off to see your beloved Royal Secretary Choi, I presume?" he jeered, his voice dripping with malice. "Who would've thought your success was all thanks to him? Must have made quite the deal to get him to treat you so well. Bet you're not so innocent anymore, huh?"
His words cut through you like knives, causing your steps to falter as you froze in place, the implications of his cruel insinuations hitting you like a ton of bricks. "Should've known," Namgil continued, his tone laced with venom. "All you women are good for is spreading your legs."
You felt a wave of humiliation wash over you, a burning rage rising up within you as you struggled to hold back tears. They had no idea what you had been through, the sacrifices you had made to get to where you were. But at that moment, all you could do was stand there, feeling utterly defenceless against their relentless cruelty.
Meanwhile, San couldn't shake off his growing concern for you. He hadn't caught sight of you all day, and his inquiries around the palace yielded no sightings of you either. The court ladies confirmed that you hadn't visited the palace at all, which only deepened his worry. You had never missed a day before, and the thought of you being sick or in trouble made his heart sink.
Leaving work that day, the extra lunch he had prepared for you still in his hands, he hurried over to your brother's school in hopes of finding you there. However, his heart sank further when he only found Siwoo waiting by the entrance as usual. The child's face lit up when he spotted the royal secretary.
"Hyung-nim! Did my noona send you here to pick me up today?" Siwoo asked eagerly. The royal secretary shook his head, his concern evident in his expression.
"No, Siwoo-yah. She hasn't been to the palace either. Do you know where her institution is?" San inquired. Your brother's expression turned worried, but he nodded.
"Yes, I do! Let's go find her!" Siwoo suggested, but San gently shook his head.
"No can do, you tell me where and I'll go. Your mother will worry if neither of you are home," San explained. The child reluctantly agreed, but not without making a request.
"Okay, but promise me you'll bring her back," Siwoo pleaded. The secretary gave him a reassuring smile and pinky promised him.
"Don't worry, I will."
As San approached your institution, relief washed over him when he spotted your familiar figure not too far from the main entrance. However, his relief quickly turned to concern when he noticed you weren't alone. Surrounding you were a group of male scholars, their expressions and body language indicating that the conversation was far from pleasant. His heart twisted uncomfortably at the sight of your wet eyes and defeated look. Were you being bullied?
With clenched fists, he stepped closer, his brows narrowing in anger as he overheard snippets of the conversation. It was clear that the group was making disparaging remarks about you. His blood boiled when he heard the leader of the gang suggesting that you had been selling your body in exchange for your success. How dare they?
These bastards.
While San understood that your previous encounters with men must have been unpleasant for you to harbour such a strong dislike for them, witnessing you being treated in such a manner was a first for him. It was no wonder you hated them so much; who could blame you? But he was here now, and he was determined to change that.
He stalked over, his towering and intimidating presence startling the scholars. "Are my ears deceiving me, or did I truly just hear such vile words coming from a scholar?" he demanded, his voice icy and authoritative. "Watch your words because rest assured, your headmaster will hear about this. Not only were you being misogynistic, but how dare you insinuate such despicable things about Scholar Moon? This woman has more integrity than all of you combined. She doesn't need any man's backing—not even mine—to get where she is today. She is fully capable of achieving that on her own, and I think you know that, given how your insecurity and jealousy are blatantly showing through your nasty actions."
The scholars' faces turned pale, their bravado evaporating in the face of the royal secretary's fury. He stepped closer, his fists clenched, ready to defend you from any further insults. The leader of the gang opened his mouth to retort but quickly thought better of it, swallowing his words and casting a nervous glance at his friends.
"L-let's go, guys," Namgil stuttered, bowing before scrambling away. They weren't stupid. This was His Majesty's royal secretary, and if he reported them to the king, they would face dire consequences. There was nothing to gain from angering him.
San turned his gaze to you, his eyes softening. "Are you okay?" he asked gently, his voice a stark contrast to the harsh tone he had just used.
Instead of a grateful nod like he had expected, you met him with a darkened expression. Taking deep breaths, you tried to hold back your tears and calm yourself down. When you remained silent, glaring at him, he sighed. "Was that too much? I—I'm sorry, I know you can defend yourself, but I just—"
You cut him off, speaking in a low voice, "This is all your fault, Choi San."
He froze, his heart clenching painfully at the last words he expected to hear from you. You continued, harshly wiping away stray tears with your sleeves, "If only you'd just leave me alone like I asked from the beginning… I've been bullied all my life, but the usual nonsense I could endure. Not once—never—had anyone ever implied something like that," you whispered the last part. "And it's all because of you. Haven't you done enough? If you truly want to help me, then please—god—please, just leave me alone."
With that, you walked out of the institution, leaving him reeling in shock and hurt at your words. This was not how he had imagined things would turn out.
San finally realised that maybe his sister had been right. If distancing himself would make you happier, he’d do it, even if it meant suffering from being away from you. From that day onwards, he would make sure to keep his distance, honouring your wish.
You went to your younger brother’s school that evening and were surprised to hear that he had already been picked up. Panicking, you rushed home and were relieved to see Siwoo safely at the entrance, waiting with your worried mother. He clung tightly to you as you stroked his hair.
"Who brought you home?" you asked softly.
He sniffled, "Sannie hyung-nim… he promised he’d bring you home, but he lied. You came home alone."
You sighed, holding the child closer as guilt slowly crept into your heart. "He didn’t lie, Siwoo-yah. He did come to me, but I was the one who left him."
Your mother watched you with concern, her eyes reflecting relief and confusion. She reached out, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "What happened, dear?"
You hesitated, the weight of the day's events pressing down on you. "I— I just... he won't bother us again, mother. I made sure of that."
Siwoo looked up at you, his eyes wide with innocence and confusion. "But why, noona? He was so nice to us."
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you hugged your brother tighter. "It will protect us. It will make things easier."
You were aware that you were trying to convince yourself more than anyone else. But you would rather die than admit it. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon, and you didn't need a man to survive. You never did, and you never would. Choi San was merely a hindrance, but he was now in the past. Things would finally return to normal. You would excel in your exams and fulfil your dreams. Everything would be fine.
Or would it really?
Days following that proved much harder than anticipated. The royal secretary had indeed left you alone, as you'd requested. While you should have been glad, a part of you felt irritated by his obedience. You resented that he hadn't fought harder, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself. You felt difficult to deal with. Surely, a man as good as Choi San deserved someone better than you. He had gone above and beyond to help you for the past few months, yet all you gave him in return were harsh words you... likely didn't mean at all.
Wait, what even are these thoughts? None of that should matter; it's all in the past. You needed to focus on your studies.
With a massage of your temples, you attempted to reread the same sentence you had been struggling with for the past hour. However, endless thoughts of that stupid man kept resurfacing, haunting you and weighing heavy on your heart with an unpleasant feeling you wished would disappear. God, did you hate him. Why was he so annoying even when he wasn't around?
You hated how he consumed your thoughts.
Everywhere you turned in the palace, he lingered in your mind. Each time you picked up your brother, he intruded into your thoughts, and even passing by your educational institution's entrance reminded you of him. What was wrong with you? What had he done to you? You were fine before meeting him, and you would be fine now. You kept repeating this to yourself, but all resolve crumbled when you saw him approaching one morning in the palace. It was the first time seeing him since that day—the day you'd uttered those cruel words to him.
You froze, clutching your books tightly to your chest, bracing yourself for whatever words or actions he might deliver. However, your heart sank when he simply passed by with a respectful nod. Why did that sting so much? You had brought this upon yourself. The urge to chase after him was overwhelming, and you squeezed your eyes shut to suppress the longing.
Pull yourself together, this is for the best.
You didn't need him.
Or did you?
Why does it hurt so much?
The atmosphere between you and the royal secretary had shifted, turning awkward and strained. Everyone in the palace could sense the change, the tension that now defined your interactions—or rather, the lack thereof. The once easy camaraderie had vanished, replaced by uncomfortable silences and fleeting, cautious glances. It wasn't long before word reached Namgil, who seized the opportunity to make your life even more miserable. The bullying intensified, but you endured it all, determined to pass your final exam without incident.
Time flew by, even as you suffered.
You buried yourself in your studies, hoping to push him out of your mind. Every page you turned, every line you read, was an attempt to forget the way he made you feel. The palace corridors, once filled with the warmth of his ever-comforting presence, now echoed with your lonely footsteps and the quiet rustle of your books.
Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, your final examination was approaching. The weight of the upcoming test pressed down on you, but it was a welcome distraction from the pain in your heart. You could still see him in the palace, still catch glimpses of his familiar figure in the distance, but the gap between you felt insurmountable.
On the eve of your exam, you found yourself in the palace library, surrounded by stacks of books and scrolls. The dim light of the lantern cast long shadows across the room, mirroring the shadows in your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts.
Then, without warning, the door creaked open, and there he was. San, standing in the doorway, looking just as conflicted as you felt. Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, neither of you moved.
"Scholar Moon," he finally said, his voice low and hesitant. "I heard your final exam is tomorrow. I wanted to wish you luck."
You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi."
He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know you asked me to leave you alone, but I just want you to know that I believe in you. You are more than capable of achieving your dreams."
Tears threatened to well up in your eyes, but you blinked them away. "I appreciate that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, it seemed like he might say more, but then he simply nodded and turned to leave. As the door closed behind him, you felt a pang of regret. You had to fight everything in you to resist running after him, holding onto him, telling him how much you regretted everything, how wrong you had been, how much you… missed him.
No, stop it.
You took a deep breath and returned to your books, knowing that tomorrow's exam was the key to your future. You had to stay focused. You had to succeed, even if it meant pushing aside the feelings you couldn't quite shake.
The next morning, your mother smoothed your robes as you prepared to leave for the palace where the final examination would take place. Her hands were gentle, but the pride in her eyes was unmistakable.
"This is it," she whispered, a soft smile on her face. "All your hard work will pay off today. You will finally be someone in this land. The first female scholar-official in Joseon."
You nodded, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves. Today was the day you had worked so tirelessly for. Today, you would prove yourself.
"You look beautiful, noona!" Siwoo cheered, his excitement contagious.
You smiled down at your little brother, ruffling his hair. "Thank you, Siwoo-yah. I'll make you proud."
As you stepped outside, the morning sun casting a golden hue over the palace grounds, you felt a surge of determination. You wouldn't have time to think about a certain annoying man who had been invading your thoughts more than you cared to admit. You wouldn't let the memory of Choi San torment you more than Namgil and his friends ever could.
With each step towards the examination hall, you reminded yourself of your goals. You were Scholar Moon, the first female scholar in Joseon. You were about to make history.
As you entered the courtyard, the confident bounce in your step reflected the culmination of years of hard work and determination. You were oblivious to the devious grins Namgil and a few other scholars exchanged as their gazes followed your figure.
"There she is," Namgil sneered, nodding toward the bridge above the large pond that everyone would later cross to reach the examination hall. A wicked idea formed in his mind. "Remind me, boys. It would be impossible for someone with drenched clothes to participate in the final examination, is that correct?"
They snickered, immediately understanding his implication. "Yes, I think that is right."
You moved through the crowd, nodding to a few familiar faces, your mind already focused on the examination ahead. You had no idea that behind you, Namgil and his cronies were plotting to ruin everything you had worked all your life for.
As the time approached for the scholars to cross the bridge and enter the hall, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead. This was your moment, and nothing would stand in your way.
Or so you thought.
As you stepped onto the bridge, Namgil and his cronies moved into position. With a quick, coordinated push, you were sent plummeting into the pond below. The cold water enveloped you, and panic set in immediately. You flailed, trying to keep your head above water, but it was futile. "H-help! Please!"
Laughter erupted from above. Namgil and his friends stood at the edge of the bridge, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.
"Oops! Looks like Scholar Moon won't be making history today," Namgil taunted, his voice dripping with malice.
"I... c-can't swim..."
Everyone froze, the courtyard falling silent as your bully's laughter ceased. The realisation hit them like a ton of bricks: the pond was much deeper than they had anticipated, and you couldn't swim. Your desperate cries for help echoed in the sudden stillness, turning their malicious prank into a potential tragedy.
Panic spread among the scholars as they realised what they had done. What began as sabotage could now be seen as attempted murder, and their futures hung in the balance. Namgil's face drained of colour as he watched you struggle, knowing full well the consequences of their actions.
Fortunately for you, and unfortunately for them, San happened to be dropping by to observe the examination. His heart plummeted at the sight before him. Without a second thought, he pushed through the panicked crowd of useless men and plunged into the pond, desperate to save you.
His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up from the depths. He swam with determined strokes, bringing you to the safety of the pond's edge. As he hoisted you onto solid ground, he checked for signs of life, his own breath coming in ragged gasps from the effort and fear.
You coughed and sputtered, expelling water from your lungs as you gasped for air. San's relieved expression melted into one of fierce protectiveness and anger. He turned to face the group of terrified scholars, his eyes blazing with fury.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Do you have any idea what you almost did?"
Namgil and his friends could only stammer incoherent excuses, their earlier bravado replaced by sheer terror. The royal secretary's intervention had saved you, but it had also sealed their fate.
A few examiners rushed out just in time to witness the chaos, their expressions darkening at the sight of the guilty, terrified faces of Namgil and his cronies. Realising the gravity of their actions, the bullies pleaded for mercy as they were escorted away to face the consequences.
The royal secretary turned toward you, gently brushing aside the damp strands of hair that clung to your face, his touch tender. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his concern evident in his expression.
Your lips quivered at the tenderness in his voice and the worry etched on his face. He was the first and only man to care so deeply for you, and you couldn't fathom how you had repeatedly pushed him away. But now, tired of denying your feelings, you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes. With a broken sob, you shook your head. "No… I'm not," you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his shoulder.
He hesitated for a moment, startled by your sudden embrace, before returning it, enveloping you in his arms. "What's wrong? Tell me," he murmured, his voice laced with concern.
You sobbed harder, weakly hitting him. "It's you… y-you're so annoying, you know that? I hate it so much… hate that I love you."
He pulled back, wide-eyed, holding your shoulders at arm's length as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes. "Wh-what did you say…? This isn't a dream, is it?"
Through your tears, you chuckled at his reaction. "I finally muster the courage to confess to you, and that's your response?"
His smile broke through, the one you adored so much, the one where his eyes disappeared into slits, bringing warmth and comfort no matter how hard things got. Pulling you back into his arms, he stroked the back of your head. "I love you too..."
"How's your first day as a Scholar-Official, Moon?" inquired the royal secretary as you grinned at him. "It's going well, Royal Secretary Choi. Thank you for asking."
After he assisted you in petitioning His Majesty for another chance at your final examination, arguing that you were merely a victim of foul play, you were granted the opportunity. As anticipated, you passed with flying colours, ranking at the top of the batch. Finally, you held the prestigious title of scholar-official.
However, that wasn't the only change in your life. Choi San openly courted you, much to the king's approval, solidifying your status as a formidable power couple.
Leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead, he smiled, "I'll see you after work."
You blushed and gently pushed him away. "Not here, please. But yes, I'll see you later."
As you left the palace after your day's work, you spotted a familiar face. Smiling, you greeted her, but your steps faltered when she bowed respectfully.
"Hi there. I remember you," you said, trying to recall where you had met her before.
She grinned knowingly. "Yes, it's good to see you again, Scholar-Official Moon. I suppose you believe my words about the royal secretary now, don't you? After all, you and he are the talk of the palace."
Your cheeks flushed, recalling that she had been the court lady to disclose San's identity during your initial encounter. You nodded awkwardly, trying to recover from your embarrassment.
She chuckled softly. "Well then, don't let me keep you. Royal Secretary Choi is waiting for you by the entrance."
Your heart soared at the sight of San standing by the entrance, just as the court lady had claimed. He was waiting for you, and the realisation filled you with an indescribable warmth. This wasn't just any man; this was your man. Yours alone. The sight of him, tall, handsome, kind, and caring, reaffirmed your feelings.
Without a second thought, you ran over, calling out, "Sannie!" He turned towards you, his face lighting up with that beam that never failed to make your heart race. His arms opened wide, and you leapt into them, feeling a rush of joy at being in his embrace.
"I missed you, honey," he whispered, his voice filled with affection.
You pressed your lips against his, relishing the moment as his response came swiftly, his kiss soft and reassuring. Pulling back slightly, a smile played on your lips, your heart dancing with joy. "I missed you too, my big baby," you teased.
"Come on, remember you wanted to learn more about my past?" you said, chuckling at the pout on his face as you pulled away.
He nodded eagerly, and you took his hand, leading him towards a place you hadn't visited in a long time.
"So, this was the root of your hatred for men…" he murmured, his gaze fixed on your father's grave as you stood beside him. You had just finished recounting everything that had transpired, from the beginning of your existence to the hardships you endured to reach where you are today.
"Yes, but you showed me that not all men are the same," you replied softly, your voice tinged with gratitude.
He gently squeezed your hands, turning to face you with a serious expression. "And I won't stop showing you. I promise I'll be different from your father and every other man you've encountered. I'll protect you and your family as if they were my own. I'll strive to be the best husband to you and father to our future child. You'll never have to suffer alone again. I'm here for you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.
You chuckled softly through your tears, nodding in response. "That's amusing… I don't recall agreeing to be your wife just yet. What are you talking about, Choi San?"
He let out a playful whine, "Hey! You—wait... you said 'yet' though, so that means... you will eventually, right?" he asked hopefully.
Teasingly, you stuck your tongue out at him before turning and running away. But deep down, you knew that no matter how far you went, he would always be there to catch you.
Of course, you idiot.
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Holy crap, I was gone for like 2 weeks and I return to 1.85k+ followers?! ASDFGHJKL thank you all so much😭
Anyway, I hope this was decent, y'all... I swear, I didn't plan for this part to be so freaking long HAHA but I just felt like it would take quite a bit for her hatred to turn into love hehe I hope the ending didn't feel rushed or anything :3
As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! ❤️
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