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ponderingmoonlight · 5 months ago

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Saving Genya from his big brother only to make out with Sanemi

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,9k

Synopsis: It was never an easy job, being the only one who's able to calm the wind hashira down. There was never more than respect and understanding between both of you. Until you bodly decided to stand up for Genya, until Sanemi finally reveals his true feelings...

Warnings: We're talking about Sanemi so language at violence lol, aggressive making out

I love love love Sanemi and I desperately hope you do as well hehe, enjoy and leave a comment/like/reblog <3

There he stands with his hot temper filling the air and his ruthless beatings torturing the poor souls in front of you. Hashira training never sounded like fun to you, especially when you consider who you’d have to deal with.

Sanemi Shinazugawa, especially.

“Get back up, brat. We’re not finished yet.”

You watch from afar as he hits the poor red-haired poor over and over again. Without any mercy, without the slightest hint of regret. And still, you can’t help but ponder about the way his arms flex and show every vein that decorates his skin. How he moves so effortlessly that your eyes are almost unable to follow. No, it’s not a secret that apart from being a madman, Sanemi Shinazugawa is hot as hell.

And your crush since you joined the demon slayer corps.

“Don’t you think that’s enough for today? The poor boy isn’t even able to stand up straight anymore”, you interfere when he’s about to hit him once again.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were the expert on disciplining. How about me fetching you a chair so you can supervise more comfortably?”

All pairs of eyes are set on you while you step towards the scene in death silence. Apart from everyone else, you aren’t here to train under Sanemi. No, you are a very capable demon slayer yourself, so good that you even managed to beat Mitsuri from time to time. You definetely don’t need Sanemi to train.

In fact, you are here because you’re the only one who is able to tame him apart from Kagaya-sama himself.

"Well, if you ask me so nicely, a chair actually doesn’t sound bad for the next time. Meanwhile, how about we wrap this up? Enough's enough."

Sanemi’s venomous eyes meet yours, tempting you to lose your cool. Within the past few months, you’ve learned how to act around him and that his actions don’t reflect his true feelings at all. Deep within, he is the most caring and compassionate person you’ve ever met, so tender that you’d simply melt away in his touch. He never failed to protect you even if not needed, always made sure you are save before looking out for himself. Damn, he even left his desert for you to eat.

But on the other hand, he’s very good at hiding that side of him.

“Fine. Call it quits for today then. But we two will have a talk later”, he finally mutters before turning around and disappearing without any trace.

Your heart skips a few beats before you’re able to think straight again. Oh, how much you adore him. Just the sheer thought of meeting him alone sends shivers down your spine even though nothing ever happened between you two. After all, you’re only here to look out for him, right?

“Thank you for standing up for me. Now you’ll get in trouble for helping me out”, the red-haired boy lying in front of your feet speaks out while dragging himself up.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I can handle him. Are you alright?”

In the matter of seconds, your eyes scan his body for serious injuries. Nothing, as you expected. Even though his training methods seem rough, he’d never allow himself to truly lay hands on another corps member. Not even him, Kamado Tanjiro. The boy who has what Sanemi always dreamed of.

“Yes, thanks to you. We really need a break after training day and night. Sorry, may I ask you for your name?

“My name is (y/n). Nice to finally meet you in person, Kamado Tanjiro.”

His eyes widen in an instant when you tell him your name. Even though you’re not a hashira, it seems like a lot of corps member know you. A decently skilled swordswoman, a trained doctor who made sure that no one ever died as long as you were around.

“The angel”, he breathes out.

“What an honor to meet you in person!”

In an instant, he gets on his knees and places his head on his flat palms. A pose of deep respect, so intimate that your cheeks heat up in an instant.

“Please, lift yourself off the ground. I don’t deserve your praise-“

“You deserve so much more than that!”, Tanjiro interrupts in an instant.

“Leave her alone. Can’t you see that you’re making her uncomfortable?”, another voice mutters from behind.

A very familiar voice you haven’t heard in quite some time, that makes your heart jump up and down in joy.

“Genya!”, you cry out.

You waste no time. In an instant, you lunge yourself at the now much taller boy and wrap your arms around him so tightly that he cannot escape. Oh, you really missed him. Even though Sanemi states over and over how much he hates his little brother, you always had a weak spot for him. Maybe because you’re able to see his soft side as well or because of the cute way he blushes when you look at him.

“Genya, are you alright? Your face is so red-“

“SHUT UP”, he barks at Tanjiro while you giggle to yourself.

“Why didn’t you send me a crow like I told you to? I was beyond worried about you. But oh I’m so proud. Did you really help to kill an upper moon demon and supported your friends?”

“Well I-“

“Yes he did! He was a big help for all of us!”, Tanjuro interferes immediately.

“(y/n), didn’t I tell you we need to talk?”, someone suddenly barks from the inside.

All color drains from Genya’s face immediately as he turns around with you.

There he stands with his arms crossed in front of his muscular chest, eyes almost piercing through you while the vein on his forehead threatens to pop any minute.

Your heart sinks in an instant. No, don’t let him control you like that, not when you know that he’s just…jealous?

“I needed to talk to Genya first”, you clarify.

“(y/n), please don’t-“

“Oh, is that so? Why would you even look at that trash?”

Thick anger rushes through your veins like the flood. If there’s one thing you hate about Sanemi’s attitude, it’s the way he talks about his little brother.

“I’m looking at you as well, don’t I?”

He flinches ever so slightly, his furrowed eyes now piercing through you like a thousand knives.

“Get inside. Right now.”

“Get some rest you two”, you quickly shout over your shoulder before you disappear into the house with a furious Sanemi by your side.

He slams the door shut behind you so rapidly that it rains plaster.

“What was that, huh?”, he speaks out with threatening low voice.

“I asked your little brother about his mission.”

He cages you between the wall with no way to escape, dangerous eyes locked with yours.

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“And I told you that I don’t care.”

“Why don’t you leave, then?”

“Because I’m the only one who’s able to tame you down”, you bite back.

He huffs in sheer annoyance while pushing himself off the wall. Why does he have to look so vulnerable and strong at the same time, so scary but also mesmerizing?

“You won’t force me to talk to him”, he finally speaks out.

“I want him to leave the corps and get as far away from me as possible.”

“Away from you or away from the danger?”

“I don’t care about him.”

“So you don’t care about me as well?”

Thick silence hangs between both of you while you stare at each other. To this day he never revealed how he truly feels about you. Does he hate you, respect you, love you? You might never know. But your influence on him speaks for itself.

“Go to sleep. We’ll get up early tomorrow.”

Without another word, he leaves you standing in a new wave of ponderings and emotions.

-a few hours later-

Your eyes dart open for no reason. Aimlessly, your orbs roam around the dark room, ears searching for a single sound.

Voices. Shouting. Blows.

Blows?

“Big brother?”

Your heart drops to the floor. That’s Genya. Why does the floor start to vibrate now?

Out of instinct, you yank out of your room, follow a wave of destruction until you finally get what’s going on.

There they stand. Genya with fright written all over his face and Sanemi with orbs so empty you’re almost able to see through them.

Your guts turn uncomfortably as he speeds forward so fast that your eyes are almost unable to follow. Fuck, is he about to pierce through Genya’s eyes?

You waste no time. In the matter of milliseconds, you drag Genya to the ground and therefore safe him from Sanemi’s merciless attack.

“Sanemi.”

You breathe out his name like a prayer.

“Get out of line, (y/n).”

“I can’t allow you to hurt him!”, you cry out, hands still holding onto Genya’s trembling body for dear life.

“You leave me no choice, then.”

It happens faster than you’re able to think. He dashes forward while grabbing the handle of his sword tightly, his eyes and blade darted towards you.

But you don’t even think about leaving Genya. No, you stand your ground in front of him, glossy orbs watching as his blade crashes down straight towards your face.

Until it stops.

“I said move”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I said I won’t. Leave Genya alone.”

“Are you really putting up a fight with me, (y/n)? Here, right in front of everyone else?”

You couldn’t care less about the stinging fact that the others are watching you drowned in fear. This goes too far without any doubt.

“You don’t have to do this, Sanemi. Not when we both know you love your little brother dearly”, you breathe out.

“Come on Genya, let’s leave”, Tanjiro’s voice mutters behind you, causing a wave of relief to wash over you.

“I don’t love anyone. Not him, not you, I don’t give a shit about anyone around here”, Sanemi barks back at you with nothing but hatred spilling from his mouth.

Genya doesn’t deserve those words reaching his ear. But apart from that, you can’t escape the sting that fills your heart with agony.

Him, not loving anyone? Of course you never really expected the wind hashira to actually like you back. Of course even him respecting you is more than you could have ever asked for. But somehow you still hoped. Each and every night, you imagined what if would feel like to lay in his arms while listening to his steady heartbeat. Every free second, you pondered about how his lips must feel pressed against yours, how it feels to fall asleep and wake up next to him.

And now he tells you that you mean nothing to him.

You swallow hard, desperately trying to avoid his gaze at any cause. No, you can’t afford to lose yourself right here when everyone is watching.

Out of instinct, you straighten your shoulders and cross your arms in front of your chest.

“If that’s the case, I’m leaving. Good night, wind hashira.”

You don’t care about waiting for an answer. All you want to do right now is going back into your room, going back into safety where he’s not around. How stupid to even consider that Sanemi Shinazugawa could feel anything apart from a little respect for you. You, nothing but an ordinary slayer, still too weak to be called a real hashira. You, apparently nothing but a fool.

Hot tears start to swell up your eyes and cause your vision to get foggy. You never allowed yourself to cry over something so minor. What did you expect, a gut-wrenching love story? With the wind hashira?

“Why did you turn your back on me?”

You flinch so hard that you almost trip over your futon.

“What are you doing here?”, you cry out.

Fuck, this is him, without any doubt. What on earth is Sanemi doing in your room? Just now, when you’re looking like a mess.

“Are you crying?”

“Even if I do, why would you care?”

When your gaze drifts towards his, you feel like drowning and taking your first breath at the same time. He looks so distressed that your heart wrenches all over again. Like a lost puppy, he draws closer until he cages you against the wall. His eyes seem to stare right through your soul, make it hard to produce a single logical thought.

“Why would you even think that, idiot?”

His hand yanks your chin up, forces you to stare at him even more intensely.

“Because you said so yourself”, you bite back.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted me in the middle of teaching Genya a lesson.”

“Teaching him a lesson? You’re breaking that poor boy’s heart-“

“Breaking him? I’m saving him, goddamn!”, he blurts out so suddenly that you shake.

“Saving him? What are you t-“

“Poking his eyes out isn’t that big of a deal, he’d definitely survive. But his career at the demon slayer corps would have been over and out, he would have been saved”, he mumbles frantically.

“That would have meant he’s save, that would have meant he doesn’t die in this shit-“

“Sanemi”, your hands grab his face gently, try to get him out of his constant mumbling.

“He’ll die just like our mother did.”

“Sanemi.”

“I can’t fucking protect you all. Not when you’re around as well, not when you’re not listening just like he does-“

“Sanemi.”

When your eyes meet his, he looks like a troubled child scared of thunder. His glossy orbs stare at you desperately, make your heart ache all over again. All that rambling, giving Genya his coldest shoulder…to protect him?

“You’re just as reckless as him. Not looking out for yourself. What am I supposed to do without both of you around? What if I lose you two as well?”

“You won’t lose anyone, I’m good enough to-“

“How can you know?”, he screams into your face, his voice vibrating through every cell of your body like thunder.

“How can you promise you won’t die? One wrong move and you’re gonna bite the dust. Or you’re at the wrong place at the wrong time like Rengoku-“

It might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life, so reckless that you’ll lose Sanemi completely.

But you don’t care.

Before he’s able to talk about the grief within the past any further, you crash your lips against his while holding onto his face for dear life.

Over and over, again and again until your mind finally shuts up, until it’s only you and Sanemi and his puffy lips against yours.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you allow your knees to give in, bodies resting against each other so desperately that you feel like dreaming. Countless nights you pondered about the way his frame feels pressed against yours, what the wind hashira might taste like.

Oh, the reality is so much better, so good that you have to convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

“You’re driving me insane. Since the first time I saw you training with Obanai, since you beamed at me with that sickening gorgeous smile. I can’t escape you. I can’t fucking lose you”, he hisses against your mouth before entangling his tongue with yours all over again.

Sparks fly, stars take up your sight completely as you threaten to choke on all the affection and love that hits you with full force.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”, you breathe out.

“And risking you’ll never talk to me again? You have to be out of your mind.”

“I’m out of my mind because of you. Because you make me feel all those strange things”, you puff out.

Faster than you’re able to react, he pulls his face away from yours enough to almost drown inside your glossy orbs. For a moment, all the does is staring at you as you desperately gasp for air with your chest rising and falling rapidly. This really happened. Did you really make out with the wind hashira after he tried to murder his little brother, after all the fighting and rambling of today?

“You’re my weakness, (y/n)”, he finally blurts out.

“And I hate that power you have over me. Especially that everyone else knows it.”

You tilt your head to the side. Oh, that’s so true. After all, this is the reason why you were sent here. You are here to make sure he doesn’t go too rough on his students, that his hot temper is kept at least a little cool.

Well, given the heat that radiates from him at this very moment, the last part definitely didn’t go as planned.

“They know about my feeling for you as well.”

His eyes widen while he stares you up and down in sheer disbelief.

“Stop fucking with me”, he grumbles.

“You were too blind to realize that I loved you for so long while I didn’t even think about the opportunity that you might like me back”, you admit with your cheeks turning as hot as the sun.

“You fool.”

He yanks your chin towards his face, a small smile decorating his usual so irritated face.

“I’ll definitely never let you go again now.”

His lips crash into yours and leave your mind blank all over again.

“But I’ll still kick your ass for talking to me so disrespectfully and interfering with Genya.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine (thank you sooo much for helping me creating reader for the cover)

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ja3hwa · 2 months ago

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♡ 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 | 𝐊𝐇𝐉 ♡

Day Five - Gentle sex

【Synopsis】 : Your loving husband just needed some extra care, and being an amazing wife, you were more than willing to provide.

『Word count』 : 2.02k

-> Genre: Smut. Producer au

Pairing: Husband!Hongjoong x Wife!Reader

[Warnings] : Heavy praise. Slightly subbish Hongjoong, but not really. The reader wants to worship joong, but he wants to do that to her. It's just a bunch of loving cuties. Lingerie. Kissing, making out. Swearing. Oral (both rec). slight cum play. Switches all round. Dirty talk. Body worship. This shit is sappy. Hair pulling. Unprotected sex. I swear I’m never this lovey dovey so if its bad please ignore me. ahhh

Note: Thank you to the sweetest Lilo aka @seonghwaddict for this amazing plot idea. I was so stuck until you helped me, hehe.

Networks: @cromernet @atzhouse @illusionnet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

His eyes could barely stay open, while his mind kept wandering off to la la land. One more hour… thirty more minutes. Just another five and he will be happy. But Hongjoong was anything but happy. This song was unbelievably frustrating and he wanted nothing more than to just simply throw it in the trash. But he won't. He couldn’t do such a thing. Argh but why not, who cares it’s not like his whole team is counting on him or anything….

His phone dinged for the hundredth time tonight. Mostly, you, again. He promised to be home earlier. You told him not to promise such a thing, but he did anyway. He needed to give you that promise. But as his screen lit up with a little message reading ‘I love you’ and the clock saying one, he knew the promise was broken. You were more than understanding, knowing what his job was like. How odd hours were normal. But that still didn’t make it right. It didn’t take his guilt away, promise or not.

“You should go home.” Hongjoong almost jumped out of his seat when his boss suddenly knocked on the table. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn’t even see the other man walk in. “I’m sure your wife misses you.”

“She does…But I’m almost done with the arrangement for Monday. I just need—Hongjoong, enough, the boys aren't debuting until five months from now. You need rest. I’ll get Maddox to look over what you’ve got on Monday but for now...” Mr Matthews cuts Hongjoong off quickly, silencing the producer.

“But I—No buts. Maddox will help you on Monday. As of right NOW you have the weekend off, de-stress. Come back here when you have at least had eight hours of sleep.” and with that the man left, leaving no room for argument from Hongjoong.

The drive home was long. Longer than Hongjoong wished, he swore he got stopped at every traffic light on the street. But two hours later, finally, he was home. Punching in the code in the key lock, he tried his best to be quiet. Taking off his shoes softly, before setting them gently on the rack. Placing his keys and such on the counter with not much of a sound. He could see the dining table was empty… again. You most likely put the leftovers in the fridge and like the sad excuse of a husband he is, he would munch on them quickly before waddling to the bed, begging for forgiveness. Even though you never ask for it. You were always so caring, so loving. He didn’t deserve you.

“So are you gonna mope in front of that fridge all night, or am I going to get a hello.” Your voice scared the daylights out of him. Jumping visibly, he shut the fridge absurdly, making a loud echo in the kitchen. Your smile didn’t falter at his actions. In fact, it grew. Your arms were crossed, pushing your breasts up as you took in a deep breath. You were nervous. But Hongjoong didn’t catch on.

“I’m sorry honey I thought you were….” His breath was knocked out of him when he laid eyes on you. His beautiful wife. The nightgown you had chosen to wear tonight wasn’t any ordinary one, no, it had dark emerald green fabric, tight around your bust and flowed out as it hit your mid-stomach. The bra and panties underneath matched making you look like the perfect little present for only him to unwrap. “…Asleep.”

“I wanted to wait for you.” You spoke softly, taking a small step towards him. Hongjoong was lost for words, slight panic was invading his senses. Did he miss something? An anniversary? A special date? No, even though he was a workaholic he would never miss something…right? Your hands moved to his shoulders, making the man let out a shaky breath. He didn’t know what to do, so instead, he just simply froze. “God, your eyes look like they are about to pop out of your head. Calm down, soldier. There’s no war.”

Your voice seemed to calm him, feeling his shoulders relax and his head soft tip forward. His forehead met yours as he closed his eyes, taking in the moment. “I thought I forgot something. I..I’m sorry.”

“Hey now.” You gently cupped his face, your thumb softly rubbing over his cheek. “I just felt like dressing up. And you’ve been so busy with work. You have nothing to be sorry about. I’m proud of you, that's all. You know that right?”

God, Hongjoong can feel his eyes begin to water and his throat tighten. You had to be an angel, he was now fully convinced. You were perfect in every way, there was no other explanation. “I love you so much, you have no idea.”

“Oh, I could come up with a few ideas.” You give him a cheeky remark before kissing his cheek gently before the corner of his mouth, then finally on his lips. The relieving sigh he let out would normally embarrass him but he had grown to ignore the noise you always managed to make him do. In fact he has begun to like them.

“We should go to bed…” He murmured against you, letting your tongue slip into his mouth. His hands flew to your hips, tugging you closer in a desperate attempt to feel more of your body's warmth. He’ll never get over the feeling you give him every time you’re near.

You gently pulled away, smiling as you watched Hongjoong chase your lips. But your hot breath mixing with his along with his forehead now seemingly glued to yours made him feel content enough to take a moment to breathe. “Well go on then, honey… Take me to bed.”

He tugged you by your hand, leading you towards your cozy little room. It wasn’t much but you and Hongjoong had managed to make the perfect nest just for the two of you. He felt the edge of the bed hit the back of his knees as he pulled you flush against him. His fingers grazed over the erotic fabric, feeling every bit of lace that lugged your goddess-like figure. All the while you started to undress your lover boy. Removing his shirt, before unlooping his belt, his lips found yours once again as he sweetly swallowed every breath and sigh you made.

“Lay back, baby.” You cooed against Joong’s lips, gently pushing him until he fell onto the bed with a small ‘oof’. he shimmied out of his pants ungracefully, making you giggle a little before he shuffled onto the middle of the bed. You took your gown off, leaving yourself in only your bra and panties. Hongjoongs' eyes couldn't tear themselves away from your under garments, growing harder by the second. “Relax..”

Your sombre voice melted his nerves as he felt you remove his boxers just enough that his cock sprung free. He bit his lip in anticipation as you slowly wrapped your hand around his shaft, moving at a pace that was enough pleasure to ease his mind but not enough for him to come. “Such a hard worker. Always staying back late. Going above and beyond for others. You are so perfect.”

Your praises caused tears to pool in Hongjoongs eyes as he choked on his own breath. Your tongue licked a strip along his tip making his whole body shiver. His eyes fluttered close properly for the first time this evening, your mouth working miracles on him. A part of him was tugging for a switch in positions. He was the one that was supposed to be praising you, giving you all the love, but here you were squeezing his cock just right, causing his hips to buck staggeringly into your warm mouth. “Fuck, angel. I-I need you...”

He couldn’t hold himself together like he does most nights, feeling him tip over the edge quicker than he would have normally liked. His hot cum spilled into your waiting mouth. You swallowed it quickly before your lover grabbed you by the back of your arms, tugging you up further onto the bed. Even with his tired limbs, he managed to throw you onto your back so he could climb on top of you.

“My beautiful angel. My god send. the only thing in my life that makes sense.” his lips trailed down your body with every word, kissing every part of flesh he could reach. His hands delicately stripped you of your bra and panties in a quick desperation of need. Craving to finally have his favourite meal. “My wife. My pretty little tease. The only person that can make me cum so fucking fast.”

“Fuck…” You whimpered beneath him at his filthy remarks. If there was one thing Hongjoong knew it was that you loved to be verbally praised…and degraded. His lips latched onto your thighs suckling harsh marks in its wake. He loved to see you with his love bites all over, knowing you’d be walking in public with only him knowing what was hidden under your beautiful outfits.

“I love you so much.” His hot breath danced around your core, your hips bucking for friction. He couldn’t help but smirk at the raw neediness you had for him, even after all these years of marriage. You both have never stopped wanting each other. He flattened his tongue on you, licking upwards in one swift motion before sucking sharply on your clit. You gasped loudly, hands flying to your husband's soft locks. Your fingers tangled themselves before tugging causing a growl from him. His fingers traced over your stretch marks, and tummy blemishes for snaking their way down onto your thigh, giving the plump flesh a nice squeeze. Everything about you was perfect, down to the way your heart beat.

You are his everything.

“I love you Joong. So, so much.” You felt yourself slipping closer towards the edge. Hongjoong noticed as well, dipping his hand between both your bodies before sinking two fingers into your aching cunt. A relieving sigh left your lips as you felt the curled-up pleasure finally letting go. Your hips shuttered against your lover, feeling yourself let go, coming all over his face with a silent scream. Hongjoong’s giggle against you caused a tingle to spike up your spine, he loved it when you came while he ate you out. “I need you, please.”

It was your turn to whimper those three words, grabbing Hongjoong by his shoulders, you pulled him up until his wet pussy drunk face was inches from yours. His lips tasted of you, and his tongue even more so. Every sense in your body craved for this moment to last forever. Without breaking the kiss, Hongjoong opened your legs, hooking each over his waist before lining himself up to your dripping cunt. “I love you.” He whispered again, meaning it just as much as he did the first time he ever spoke the phrase to you. His thick cock sunk in slowly until he completely bottomed you out. And in that moment it was like the world had stopped. Nothing else mattered anymore.

It was just you and him.

“I love you too.” You replied against his swollen lips, feeling complete with him by your side.

—

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 19 days ago

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Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?”

“Yup.”

“Passports?”

“Mhmmmm.”

“Plane tickets?”

“Yes.”

“We’re positive that we have-”

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.”

My wife.

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon.

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks.

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.”

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple.

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion.

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.”

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin.

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.”

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible.

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek.

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?”

Oh shit.

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it.

Your birth control.

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby.

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core.

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you.

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation.

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing.

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?”

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck.

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips.

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate.

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.”

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim.

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights.

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat.

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans.

“F-fuck…” Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.”

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door.

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!”

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected.

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby.

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!”

“AHHHHHHH!”

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find.

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from.

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment.

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things.

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left.

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it.

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…”

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…”

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?”

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight.

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open.

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-”

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further.

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement.

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment.

“Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-”

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car.

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear.

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-”

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake.

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence.

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.”

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort.

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion,

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad.

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.”

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho.

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.”

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement.

“Thanks, Pops.”

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-”

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road.

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?”

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.”

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back.

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle.

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.”

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s”-

Sun, sand, and sex.

Lots of sex.

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard.

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life.

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?”

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response.

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!”

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled.

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!”

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his.

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms.

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp.

“You’re such a dork, you know that?”

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace.

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy.

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him.

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.”

Mrs. Peña.

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet.

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door.

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you.

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever.

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room.

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days.

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear.

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.”

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it.

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.”

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp.

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch.

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare.

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need.

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.”

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth.

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs.

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core.

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.”

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner.

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out.

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second.

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?”

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant.

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate.

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-”

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high.

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body.

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath.

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.”

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most.

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.”

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.”

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline.

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin.

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.”

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around.

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours.

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?”

Your birth control.

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want.

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt.

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.”

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth.

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you.

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could.

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity.

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more.

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.”

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure.

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity.

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were.

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls.

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!”

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal.

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you.

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!”

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth.

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.”

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why.

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.”

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight.

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach.

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second.

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass.

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one.

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning.

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you.

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?”

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.”

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface.

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water.

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling.

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar.

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita.

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it.

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.”

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.”

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves.

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair.

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer.

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.”

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.”

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?”

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path.

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair.

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up.

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck.

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool.

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself.

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning.

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better.

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.”

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat.

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?”

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?”

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.”

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation.

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits.

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight.

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles.

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence.

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics.

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy.

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?”

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow.

Whoops.

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to.

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away.

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.”

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere.

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.”

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement.

“What, Jav?”

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here?

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection.

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.”

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way.

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night.

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend.

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world.

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed.

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing.

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat.

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.”

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.”

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?”

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.”

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information.

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.”

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story.

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain.

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.” Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed.

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.”

“I’m being serious!”

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in.

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.”

“You’re joking.”

“Why would I joke about that?”

“16?!”

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.”

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!”

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.”

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken.

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.”

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him.

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence.

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?”

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.”

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you.

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort.

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you.

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close.

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle.

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.”

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?”

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?”

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition.

“Wait, actually?”

“Yes, actually.”

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?”

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.”

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.”

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again.

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?”

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.”

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.”

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon.

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics.

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap.

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments.

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above.

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length.

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back.

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight.

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you.

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach.

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs.

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal.

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare.

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day.

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?”

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-”

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him.

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release.

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.”

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended.

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit.

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more.

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him.

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high.

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you.

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again.

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm.

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk.

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment.

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible.

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.”

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order.

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.”

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief.

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!”

“Thank you so much!”

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles.

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head.

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.”

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home.

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband.

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter.

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home.

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon.

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free.

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac.

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards.

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder.

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car.

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm.

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin.

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath.

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?”

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!”

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on.

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory.

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing.

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.”

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer.

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.”

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse.

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers.

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke.

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage.

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks.

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager.

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.”

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about.

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

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drunkinyourbenz · 18 days ago

Text

YOU DON'T REALLY NEED A BREAK

☆ SYNOPSIS: in which billie is stressed, so naturally she needs you more than ever. unbenkownst to her, she takes it too far. ☆ PART ONE ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, use of safe word, angst, fluff, comfort, mean billie, reader is a little bratty, situationship/fwb, angry sex, crying, strap-on, edging, degradation, petnames, name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, toxic dynamic (except less so because billie's realising things hehe), unedited. ☆ REQUESTED: yes, by a bunch of anons ☆ NOTE: y'all read my mind with these reqeusts i was already thinking of writing a part two abt exactly this and you all had the same idea!! sorry this took so long lmao exams are kicking my ass :/ this is very unedited sorry for any mistakes i read it through once and then posted it lmao read part one first for it to make more sense ☆ WORD COUNT: 3.5k words

billie hadn’t texted you in a little over a week, and you almost thought that she wasn’t ever going to again. the last time you’d seen her had ended like all of the other nights, she’d cleaned you up and then left you alone in the silent hotel room. usually, she’d text afterwards, just to make sure you were feeling okay, but there was nothing. the last text between the two of you was when you’d asked where she was when she was late that night.

the two of you normally hooked up at least a few times a week, and you’d never actually gone a week without her since you started this four months ago.

you thought the worst: someone else had replaced you as her favourite. you’d always thought it would happen, but you thought you might have a few more times before it was over. but from the looks of it, you weren’t ever going to see her again.

which was fine, obviously. you didn’t care—or that’s what you kept telling yourself. you had agreed to a no-commitment thing when you two started whatever this was, and she could do whatever she wanted. it stung a little bit that she wasn’t doing you, but ultimately, there was nothing you could do about it.

so when you got home from a long day, thoroughly exhausted, your plan for the night was to hide in your bed and watch 2000s tv shows until you passed out. you showered, taking your time to wash your hair and feeling your tense and tired muscles relax under the hot stream of water. once out of the shower, you changed into some comfortable clothes, flopping down on your bed in relief. you were ready to finally just cuddle up under the blankets like you’d been wishing you could do all day.

about eleven minutes into the gilmore girls episode you were up to—rewatching for the hundredth time—your phone pinged, and you almost just ignored it, but you picked it up with a groan.

your eyes widened when you saw it was from billie, the last number you expected to text. your heart almost skipped a beat.

billie: come over?

you paused for a moment, conflicted. you truly were exhausted, and it had been such a long day, and all you wanted to do was sleep, you honestly weren’t in the mood for what you knew billie would want. but… it was billie.

so, inevitably, you ended up at her door. you were still in the clothes you’d changed into the moment you got home, just some comfortable sweatpants and a top—billie wouldn’t care about what you wore, she wanted you to be comfortable. plus, you knew full well that you wouldn’t be wearing them for long.

you knocked on the door, and it opened within mere seconds, almost as if billie had been waiting by the door for you to show up. from the look on her face, you wouldn’t be surprised. she looked stressed, angry, and desperate. you looked her up and down, your eyes settling on her face. she was wearing a pretty similar outfit to you, sweatpants that hung low on her hips, the “HIT ME HARD AND SOFT” waistband of her boxers peeking out, and a white tank top that you could see the slight hint of her nipples peeking through. her arms were bare and your eyes seemed to gravitate towards the toned muscles there, which never failed to make your brain short circuit. paired with the noticeable outline of her strap in her pants, it was almost too much for you to take.

you noticed the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed and her eyes were narrowed in a firm gaze, the frustration was clear on her face. “rough day?”

she groaned, and when she spoke, her voice had a slight rasp to it, “you have no idea.”

the two of you fell into silence, just staring at each other for a few long moments. it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was one that hung in the air around you, a claustrophobic silence. there were words left unspoken between the two of you that poked their heads around the corner but never truly revealed itself, it left you wondering when it would snap, but it never did. the two of you stared at each other for what felt like lifetimes, you waiting for billie to do something, and billie simply savouring the feeling of having you in front of her again.

finally, she spoke, her voice still holding that same raspiness—which alone could get you on your knees for her. “it’s pathetic that you’re here so fast, considering i ghosted you for a week. you’re just a desperate slut for me, aren’t you? not that you’d be good for anything else.”

the bluntness of her words sent a chill down your spine, this was exactly what you’d expected. why else would billie text you after a week of not talking, if not to use her favourite girl?

billie continued talking before you could even get a word in, it was like she’d read your thoughts. she leaned closer, her lips brushing your ear as she spoke, “you know i could just call over any of my girls and they’d be here in a heartbeat, and they’d be exactly the same. pathetic, desperate, and begging.”

you raised an eyebrow at her words. you knew what she was doing, trying to wind you up, get you to act out. you had honestly intended to just be her good girl tonight because you were so tired, but you knew she adored it when you acted up. so you spoke with the bratty tone you knew she loved.

“sure you could. but none of them are here now, are they? you called me.”

the brattiness, especially when she was in a mood like this, made her eyes light up. your brattiness was her favourite thing, she loved it when you gave her an excuse to be harsher and meaner than she was on a normal day. so, when you talked back to her, she lets out a dark laugh. “don’t fuckin’ test me, mama.”

you let a soft scoff fall past your lips, “or what?”

“you know i’ll put you in your place, i’ve done it before.” and then you realised, this was what set you apart. this was why you were her favourite. you weren’t afraid to act up, so she didn’t have to be afraid of taking it too far. she could push you, because you pushed her. “maybe you should. you want to blow off steam, don’t you?”

at your words, her lips twitched upwards into a slight, barely noticeable smirk. you knew she would be taking them as a challenge, “you’re gonna have to drop the bratty attitude eventually, mamas.”

“maybe you should make me.”

that was exactly what she wanted—she wanted you to keep going, keep winding her up. she wanted you to give her a reason to pin you down and tear you apart; and you gave her that reason with that simple suggestion.

she took your wrist in her hand, her grip almost painful as she tugged you behind her to her bedroom. the air felt different than it normally did when you were here, everything felt so tense. her entire body language screamed irritated, dominant. but it wasn’t the normal kind of dominance she normally exuded. billie always had this kind of casual dominance that just hung around her, her presence was just effortlessly assertive. this is different, she had a look in her eyes you hadn’t seen before—she was always mean, but this was her normal level of mean times ten.

she was clearly in a whole new headspace, not one you were familiar with. this wasn’t just dominant, wasn’t just mean, no, it was something else. she wasn’t just a little stressed, she didn’t just have a little bit of frustration she needed to take out on you, this was worse. it was an almost animalistic kind of energy, one that’s so raw, so intense, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk by the time she was finished with you.

she took one of the belts from her merch from her dresser, shoving you backwards onto the bed and tying your hands to the headboard. she tugged it slightly, making sure it was firm but not too tight. it sent a rush of excitement through you, and you knew she felt the same.

“gonna use you, mamas,” you knew from those words that she was going to absolutely ruin you, and you could tell by the look in her eyes.

sure enough, no more than five minutes later, she had her strap deep inside of you and was pounding into you at a bruising pace. the strap was bigger than the one she usually used, and it made you ache with a constant stinging pain. she hadn’t given you any time to adjust, and had started as she meant to go on. you were naked and on her bed, with her on top of you, fucking into you at a brutal pace. your hands were still tied up with her belt and the ache it brought only amplified the pleasure. one of her hands had your hair in a firm grasp, solely to make you feel the sting of pain it brought. she wanted to bring you to tears. her other hand grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing it before letting her hand fall down on your ass in a harsh slap.

the intense pleasure of her cock inside you and her finger circling your clit was a perfect contrast to the pain her hands brought you, and a trail of moans fell from your lips. “b-billie-”

a mean, almost cruel laugh left her lips, “god, you’re such a slut.” another slap landed on your ass, “it’s pathetic, really. i mean, i can ghost you for as long as i want,” another slap. “and you’re still at my door in five minutes as soon as i ask.” slap, “pathetic fuckin’ whore.”

you whined, which simply made her laugh. in her own sadistic way, she was enjoying this.

this continued for what felt like hours—maybe it was, you had no idea. every time you got slightly close to your orgasm, she’d pull out, tugging you away from the edge. by now, you had tears rolling down your cheeks, and the fine line between pleasure and pain was slowly but surely being crossed.

“fuckin’ take it,” she breathed. “god, you look so dumb around my cock. all you’re good for, hm? spreading your legs and taking it like the slut you are?”

you whimpered, and she simply slapped your ass again.

this continued for much longer, and she wasn’t even mad at you for being bratty, not in the slightest. she just needed an outlet for her bad mood, and that was what you were. merely a way for her to release her frustrations.

you let out a choked sob, your body trembling, “billie, please, i can’t—”

you knew she wasn’t doing this because she had anything against you, there had been something deeply wrong with her day. she had never been this downright cruel before, and you knew her well enough to know that she wouldn’t act like this without reason. but it was too much, and you weren’t sure how much more you could take. she hadn’t asked for your colour even once tonight, and that thought alone was putting you on edge. sure, her being rough turned you on, but right now it was scaring you just as much. this was darker than you’d experienced in all four months of your friends with benefits situation with her, and you weren’t sure if you liked it.

you felt the strap hit your most sensitive spot, and you let out a sound that was a mix of a moan and a sob. “billie–”

“like being used by me, yeah? taking everything i give you like a slut?”

you weren’t sure when you realised that you actually weren’t enjoying it anymore, but it was obvious all of a sudden. it hurt, and not in a good way. you were exhausted from both your day and the sheer amount of time she’d been edging you for. the way your arms had been tied to the bed for so long was making them ache painfully, and at some point down the line, your tears of pleasure had turned into tears of pain.

you normally had the safety net of knowing that she was paying attention to your signals, knowing that she didn’t want to hurt you. but it didn’t even feel like she was aware of what she was doing, she was so caught up in herself and drowning out her own frustrations. you hated that lack of awareness, it was like she wouldn’t even notice if she actually hurt you.

she looked like she was about to speak again, so before she could get out another degrading comment, you gasped out, “red, billie–”

whatever half formed sentence billie had been about to say died on her tongue, your gasped words making her freeze inside of you. her mind suddenly went silent, her frustrated thoughts about her day coming to a halt as she looked down at you with wide, almost scared eyes. you’d never actually used your safeword—obviously it was something that the two of you had communicated, but billie had never expected to actually go too far, to push you to that. she was meant to check in on your colours, and she felt an intense pang of guilt when she realised that she hadn’t done that.

as she looked at you, noticing the tears and the exhausted expression, as well as the way your wrists were visibly sore from being tied for so long, she felt a sense of dread. she was overcome with shame and she didn’t know what to do about it. her breath caught in her throat as she processed what was going on.

“shit, i’m so sorry.” after a moment, she shook herself out of her paralysed shock, she would’ve pulled out immediately, but she was aware that that would just hurt you even more. so she leaned over, quickly untying the belt around your wrists and letting it fall to the ground beside the bed. she massaged your wrists gently for a moment, trying to soothe you.

her hands moved over your tense muscles, trying to ease some of the soreness. she brushed some of your hair out of your eyes, her touch soft and cautious. “i-i’m so sorry, baby. i never wanted to push you that far.”

you knew that. you knew that she would never actually intend to hurt you, you knew that she wasn’t herself. you didn’t need her to over explain herself, you just needed her to hold you. the hand that had been pushing your hair out of your eyes moved to stroke your cheek, and you could see the intense guilt in her eyes.

“i’m gonna pull out now, okay?” her voice trembled slightly as she spoke, eyes fixed on your face.

you simply nodded, hissing slightly in pain as she gently pulled the strap out of you. billie felt her stomach twist at your obvious pain, knowing that she had done that. “i know, i’m so sorry.”

once she was out of you, she climbed off you and gently shifted you so you were sitting further up the bed, propped up on the pillows slightly. her mind was clearly racing with what she could do to help, “do you need anything? water, food, whatever?”

you shook your head softly. if your brain hadn’t been so exhausted, you probably would have thought more rationally about this. but you didn’t, and you didn’t once consider the limited affection in your dynamic. “can you just hold me?”

billie didn’t hesitate, she just nodded instantly. “yeah, of course i can.” she joined you further up the bed, pulling you into her arms. she held you against her chest gently, her fingers soothingly running through your hair while her hand rubbed your back softly.

you could hear her heartbeat, it was fast and a clear reminder of how stressed she was. you spoke softly, “it’s okay, seriously.”

but it wasn’t okay, not to billie. she had hurt you, she had pushed you too far, even when you were already clearly tired. she should’ve known better, and the guilt was weighing down from her and eating her up from the inside. not to mention she was terrified that this might be your last straw, that you might never want to see her again, that she might have broken your trust. wondering why she cared so much about her casual fling’s feelings was something that would have left her perplexed on any other day, but it was not currently at the forefront of her mind. “but–”

“it’s okay.” you said firmly, “i wouldn’t be asking you to hold me if i was uncomfortable around you.”

those words seemed to ease billie’s nerves slightly, and she tightened her arms around you, holding you close. after a few minutes of this, she gently pulled you to sit in your lap, and you shifted so that your head was buried in the crook of her neck. you could feel her breathing on your skin, and you could feel her chest rising and falling with each breath. it was incredibly grounding, the feeling of just being close to her. ever so slowly, you felt your breathing calm and your heart rate slow down.

at least an hour passed as you were just laying there in her arms, your breathing syncing with hers as her fingers ran through your hair. it was a foreign thing, for the two of you to be this close without sex, but it felt so right. it was like you were made to be in her arms, despite the situation that had brought you here. you could sense her guilt, and if you’d been a bit more aware of what was going on, you probably would’ve realised that there was something more behind that guilt—something deeper than just feeling bad for pushing you. but you were unaware, it wasn’t really what took place at the front of your mind.

the room was filled with only the sound of both of you breathing, and your mind was taken over by the calming feeling of her playing with your hair. after a while, she broke the silence. “d’you wanna borrow something to wear?”

you couldn’t deny that you liked the feeling of this skin to skin contact, but you also knew that it was a good idea. so you nodded quietly, and she delicately lifted you off her lap and set you down on the bed. she walked over and grabbed you an oversized t-shirt to wear, and she walked into the ensuite to grab a damp cloth. she came back over and gently wiped your thighs with the cloth, at this point you didn’t flinch too much because it had been so long. she held out the t-shirt, which you recognised as one she had worn at some point.

“arms up, darling.” that was a new pet name, but you didn’t comment. instead, you just lifted your arms and allowed her to slip the top over your head. it smelt like her, which somehow just added to the comfort.

soon enough, she was back on the bed and you were back in her arms. she was laying down and you were laying with her, partly on top of her and partly just cuddled up to her side. this hadn’t happened before between the two of you, but you certainly weren’t complaining. her bed was comfortable, and her arms around you felt like a cocoon you never wanted to grow out of.

gradually, your breathing started to slow as the exhaustion caught up on you, both from the recent events and your already tiring day. your head slumped onto her shoulder as a yawn fell from your lips, to which billie smiled softly.

“do you want to stay the night?”

that was not something you’d ever expected billie to say, but you hummed softly against her shoulder. “if that’s okay, yeah.”

you could’ve sworn you heard a sigh of relief from billie, “of course it’s okay, please stay. i want you to stay.”

and so you did. you stayed that night, wrapped up in billie’s arms. it was so new, but it felt so right. that night had been an irreversible shift in your relationship, for both obvious reasons and more hidden ones. you knew that the two of you would have to talk about some stuff in the morning, and you knew you’d have to set some more boundaries. but you also felt closer to her than you ever had, somehow.

little did you know, that night was just as meaningful for billie as it was for you. she had had a revelation, one that she would likely keep to herself for a while, although there was no doubt you would find out eventually.

but there was no doubt that billie wanted you to stay, longer than she’d ever thought.

#୨ৎ lyd writes #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish angst #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction

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ipodfresa · 19 days ago

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Bad Example

summary: abby sets a bad example for your little one

cw: mom!abby x mom!r, fast forward a couple months to fit what i wanted to write lol, mentions of sex, no smut, abby is being lazy and reader is bitchy hehe, abby slaps your butt. you two still love each other ok?!?!?!!?!?

"Whoa there, partner!" you say, quickly scooping up your little rascal of a daughter as she reaches for the bowl of chocolate chip pancake batter. She may be over 18 months old, but that hasn’t stopped her from climbing to grab whatever you set on the counter. You set her back on the floor, revoking her breakfast-helper privileges, and she glares up at you, babbling out in protest.

"Hey, don’t talk back to your mother missy!" Abby’s voice booms as she enters the kitchen, startling both of you. You spin around, eyes meeting your beautiful wife. Her blonde hair, tousled from sleep and the quickie you snuck in before you were off to your wifey duties, falls perfectly over her shoulders, and her oversized crewneck just barely hides the shorts she wore to bed. Your stomach flutters, the desire to drag her back into your shared bedroom, but you’re interrupted by your little one grabbing at your pant leg, steadying herself between your knees. “You say that, but where do you think she learns it from?” you mutter as you turn back to mixing the batter. You think Abby didn’t hear, but she just scoffs, sorting through the mail you picked up earlier.

Usually, Abby’s a big help, but lately, she’s been testing your patience. Like earlier this week: she left her shoes right outside the shoe rack again. You tripped over them coming in with your daughter, nearly dropping her. When you yelled about it, all she did was laugh, reaching over to kiss your forehead “You're so cute when you're mad,” you immediately wiped the kiss off. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, pressing a quick apology against your cheek before wrapping you and the baby girl in her arms. The little one giggled, but you just rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smack Abby.

Or like yesterday: Abby offered to put the baby down, but by 8:30 p.m., peeking into the nursery, there they were, Abby, blowing raspberries on your little one’s belly, sending her into a fit of giggles. Adorable, yeah, but it was well past bedtime. "I don’t know if I want to yell or kick you," you said, Abby froze like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Without another word, you scooped up your baby girl, wrapped her in her blanket, and headed out of the room. It wasn't a big deal, really, but it was the cherry on top of a frustrating day. Abby apologized later that night, swooning you with kisses and tangling you both in the sheets.

Even though you woke up to a nice surprise this morning. Abby's hand traveling down your pajama pants, her whispering in your ear, “Let me get a taste, yeah?” in that husky morning voice that makes you weak, you're still pissed at her

“Ugh, they need to stop sending me this garbage,” Abby grumbles, tearing up a campaign flier and tossing it in the trash. The kitchen grows quiet as your little one now stands at your side, reaching her tiny hands up at you, whining to be held. Just as you turn around, you feel a sudden sting on your left butt cheek, a familiar smack. Abby’s got a habit of this, so you try to ignore it, denying her the reaction she’s after. But then you feel three little slaps on your thigh, just under your rear. You look down to see your little one mimicking Abby’s antics, her sweet face looking up at you.

You let out a laugh of shock, looking up at Abby, whose mouth hangs open in a proud, slightly shocked grin. “What did I tell you, Abby?” you say, raising your voice as Abby breaks down laughing. Your little girl crawls over the blonde, picks her up, and joins in her laughter.

“You think it’s funny, but now she’s going to start slapping stranger’s asses,” you say, trying to keep a straight face but failing, biting back your smile. Abby stifles her laughter as she looks at your mischievous little one, who babbles a few “mamas” in between giggles.

“No, lovey, we don’t hit Mama,” Abby says, wagging her finger playfully. Your daughter's face crumbles, her bottom lip jutted out in a pout as tears well up and spill down her chubby cheeks. Abby cradles her, muffled sobs in the crewneck of your wife as Abby silently laughs.

“Babe! Go put her down for her nap. And be a good mommy and apologize to her!” you say, rubbing the little one's back gently. Abby shakes her head, laughing to herself as she kisses your daughter's head, soothing her as they head off to the nursery. As Abby turns to walk away, you sneak a little squeeze on her butt, her glaring back at you playfully.

You turn back to the batter, giggling to yourself as you add a bit of water to smooth the mix, listening to Abby and your baby girl’s babbling conversation down the hall. Suddenly, there's a loud thump, followed by a frustrated “SHIT!”

“What happened?!” you call out, dropping the spoon and standing still, waiting for Abby’s response.

“My damn shoes!” she yells back, voice muffled as you hear her step into the nursery and closes the door behind her.

You smirk, shaking your head. That's what her ass gets.

a/n: all my ideas come when it's 4am and i cant go back to sleep but i dont want to look at my phone bc then i wont go back to sleep so i will just make these fake scenarios to help me sleep. LOL. should i make this a series? lmk <3

#tlou abby #abby x reader #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x reader fluff #abby anderson #abby anderson fanfic #tlou2 x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #wlw writing #orion's writing

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onlygarden · 4 months ago

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[it's all on me] - yang jungwon

genre: angst

description: after making a habit of coming home late, jungwon aims to hurt you with his words once you confront him. his words cause insecurity to brew in your mind.

a/n: i haven't written a fic in 83 years :0 thank you for being so patient with me i really don't mean to keep anyone waiting. to the anon who requested an angst fic about insecurities (about a month ago hehe...) i hope this lives up to your expectations and i'm so so so so sorry that it took me ages i'm not always this lazy i promise!!!! anyways, thank you for being so patient and i hope you thoroughly enjoy it : ]

the relentless reminder of your boyfriend’s absence has visited your troubled mind an unsettling amount in recent hours. you check the time on your phone once again, the movement becoming almost instinctual; it was as if your muscles committed the movement to memory due to the amount of times you’ve been left to worry about jungwon’s whereabouts.

it was 12:03.

you sigh, your eyes beginning to feel burnt out from their endless consumption of the glow from the television. the television’s harsh brightness kept your eyes open, but the growing intensity of the concern you held for your boyfriend is what kept your body rigid and alert.

‘see you at nine, baby. i love you.’

three hours later, your mind still forces you to revisit that lie. as the hours passed, it was all you could do to abuse your nerves with the countless, dreadful justifications for jungwon’s failure to arrive home at his promised time. ‘maybe he’s overworking himself, why can’t he at least text me? maybe his phone is dead, maybe he’s gotten in an accident..’

your heart jumps with a cruel mixture of fear, excitement, relief, and anxiety as the sound of the front door unlocking travels to your ears. jungwon steps into the house, and despite his late arrival, his body doesn’t give way to any signs of exhaustion. in fact, as you take in his appearance, you notice that he looks strangely content, almost energized.

“hey, baby. why are you still up? it’s late,” jungwon simply says.

why are you up? no explanation, no hint of sympathy, no apology for making you worry. just a casual look and an equally casual question, as if he isn’t three hours late. as if he hasn’t ignited every wrinkle in your brain with a plague of anxiety and distress.

you take a deep breath, answering jungwon’s tactless question. “jungwon, what happened? you said you’d be home at nine. i was worried about you…”

although your mind is a pool of distress, swirling with words born from your overflow of emotions, you leave it there, waiting for jungwon’s response.

as if he was offended you even asked, and as if he wanted to dismiss your concerns entirely, he allows a sigh to drift from his lips. with no attempts to conceal it, jungwon paints the evidence of his irritation all over his face.

“i met with a friend after practice. what’s the big deal?” he responds sharply, his distaste for this conversation already showing itself proudly.

the displeasure flowing from him causes your brows to furrow. “why are you getting so irritated? you think i don’t have a right to be concerned after you come home three hours late?”

jungwon sighs again, slipping his shoes off. you continue.

“so you were with a friend. you could’ve at least called me, jungwon! even a simple text would’ve been better than just leaving me to worry!”

your attempts to relay your perspective to him seem to only drive him further into a state of irritation. your hopes for even a shred of sympathy from him begin to shatter helplessly. your hopes for a response along the lines of ‘i’m sorry, baby. i hate to make you feel that way’ are brutally snatched away from you, too.

jungwon steps closer to where you sit on the couch, his annoyance starting to burn through his skin. “i never asked you to worry about me, (y/n)! fuck, do you need to know what i’m doing every goddamn second? you whine so fucking much, it’s ridiculous.”

you stand up from the couch now, your frustration with his persistence to be so inconsiderate beginning to drive you. “are you fucking kidding me? don’t give me that. you think i’m ‘whining’ because i wanted to know what you’ve been doing for the past three hours? which friend were you with, anyway?”

jungwon’s face darkens, his body growing tense as you toss the question at him. “you don’t- you don’t know her,” he says, his voice quieter than before.

her? you look at him incredulously, the emotions building so quickly inside of you that you hardly have the time to identify them, and processing them is a separate battle entirely.

“what? you spent three hours with some girl i don’t know, and you didn’t even tell me about it? you had me waiting here, worrying about you, while you were happy as ever with another girl?”

anger flashes over jungwon’s expression at your words, and he steps even closer to you, speaking in a raised tone.

“yea, i was! don’t pretend like you’re the only victim, (y/n). do you ever think about how i feel, having to spend everyday with you?”

your expression crumbles as the last sentence dances from his lips. the force of his words settles upon you, your chest blooming a pain that seems to immobilize you.

“what?” your voice trembles slightly as you utter the word, the volume of your voice lowering drastically.

although he notices your distress, the anger burning within him does not die out. “what?” he remarks with force, “i needed a break. you’re too much, and everytime i look at you, it just reminds me of how i wish i had so much better.”

the tears spring fiercely to your eyes, and you cannot even begin to will yourself to hold them in.

“if you need better, then go find it jungwon,” the tears begin to stream down your face, and you walk past jungwon towards the direction of your bedroom.

jungwon’s eyes widen as the shock from your reaction sets in. his anger tames, long forgotten as desperation and regret wash any trace of it away. god, he hopes he’s not too late.

“wait, baby…”

jungwon hastily approaches your retreating figure, reaching out to wrap his hand around your arm gently. you turn to face him, and jungwon’s heart aches as he takes in your pained expression, coupled with the tears falling rapidly from your eyes.

“you’re… you’re my everything. please, baby… i didn’t mean it like that. i’m sorry, baby, i didn’t mean-”

you interrupt him before he can insist again that he didn’t mean it, as if those words alone are nearly enough to soothe the heartache he caused within you.

“then what did you mean, jungwon? what exactly did you mean to say?” the tears continue to fall, your voice straining with the effort to speak past them.

jungwon sighs, the pain laced within it starkly contrasting his sigh from earlier. his tone is soft, almost pleading as his eyes peer deeper into yours. “baby, i… i just needed something different. i wanted… a change. i started talking to her, and she was just… so cute, and- and interesting...”

you pull your arm away from his gentle grasp, staring up at him, disbelief scattered across your features. “jungwon, how would you feel if i said the same thing? if i spent three hours with some guy, and i told you exactly what you just told me, how would you feel?”

realization crashes onto jungwon. as the words reach his ears, his body fills with regret, and the guilt in his facial expression further proves the magnitude of it.

“god, baby… i’m so sorry. i never wanted to make you feel this way. i promise you, you’re the most important, most beautiful woman in my life. i love you so much… you’re all i need… all i’ll ever need.”

his words, and the unbridled sincerity behind them, start to mend the frayed emotions within you, but a few threads of doubt tangle with your inclination to forgive him.

“jungwon, i love you too. i love you more than anything. i just don’t understand… why would you need something different? am i not-”

am i not enough for you? this time, jungwon cuts you off before the words can escape you.

“baby, please… don’t ever say that. you’re more than enough for me. you’re so beautiful, and perfect… i’m just stupid for ever making you doubt that. so, so stupid.”

he pulls you towards him, enveloping your body in a warm, desperate embrace. the urgent desire to comfort you, to absorb the pain he bestowed onto you, radiated from jungwon’s body plentifully. still, his touch was delicate enough to avoid breaching the fragility of situation.

your tears soak his shirt, forcing the fabric to absorb their boundless downpour. the pressure on jungwon’s heart tightens, the relentless squeeze of sorrow, remorse, and agony becoming nearly unbearable. he loves you so much, he’s absolutely delighted by every aspect of you, how could he have ever been so foolish to smear the conviction behind those words? jungwon continues to hold and shush you gently, his hands gently gliding along your back, attempting to remind you of the ferocity of his devotion to you through more than just words.

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killergee · 4 months ago

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Part 3! Sorry for the late update, but here's the last part, my friends. I had no idea what to do, so I fell into a good old trope. Slight nsfw, but it’s mainly just Hoshina and his dirty mind, hehe. Oh, and some kissing.

Summary: Angry, frustrated, jealous, and trapped in an elevator. Who will crack first?

P1 P2 P3

Tagslist: @surprisemodafakas @yrxhyes @voidsatoru @vash-yuu @er0ssu @rosesandquartzz

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

Hoshina knew he was the only one at fault for testing his own patience, but God was he so sure he was going to explode if things continued like this.

He wanted you to be the one to take the final step and cross the distance. He wanted to see you want him like you said you did so many months ago. To see that passion for him once again.

That didn’t mean he waited around for you to confess, though. No, he didn’t hold back when it came to you.

If anything, he became greedy when it came to you.

Hoshina didn't know how he survived before, now knowing what your touch felt like. It felt like fire on his skin. One that left a burning desire that he only knew to quell by grasping at you for more. Yet, even then, it wasn't enough. You always left him wanting more. You left him clinging to what was left of his sensibilities to not take you there and then. Hoshina thinks he must be a masochist because of how he kept pushing for more, knowing you'll reject him or that he'll have to stop himself before he goes too far and ruins everything.

Yet, when you did accept his affections, the feeling was unparalleled. When you did reciprocate, it made him feel butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel a different type of warmth, a different sense of fulfillment. One that told him it was worth it to keep trying.

So, he gave in to his desires again and again and again. As long as he doesn't straight-up confess, he still has a shot at making you take action. Right?

Hoshina groans as he finishes another one of his reports. Mina has been working him to the bone lately. Taking him out of sessions to work on mission plans, interrupting him mid lunch to accompany her to meetings, even going as far as interrupting his midnight training sessions with you to ask for his opinion on the production of a new weapon. Hoshina swears he’s barely seen you for the last two weeks because of this. To say he was a bit annoyed would be an understatement. Especially since because of his busy nature, Mina delegated his tasks to you to handle. Tasks that included working with his unit.

Now, this normally wouldn’t be a problem if Kafka hadn’t taken such a liking to you. Hoshina should’ve known Kafka would like you after he overheard your conversation with him the first time. While trapped in his office, it takes all his efforts to not jump out the window and tell Kafka to take a step back from you. He didn’t know if it was the exhaustion, stress, or withdrawal from your presence, but he felt absurdly angry at seeing you being so friendly with Kafka. Hell, even seeing you laughing with his unit left a bitter taste in his mouth.

While you and his unit seemed to be getting closer, you and Hoshina haven’t made any progress at all since that night. Hoshina felt frustrated on so many different levels and mixed with the pressure to not disappoint his superior, Hoshina was so wired he could barely sit still. He nearly snapped his pen in half just thinking about it.

He either needed to train or fuck this out of his system.

He couldn’t concentrate on anything. The words on the paper in front of him were starting to blur, and he was seconds away from writing “because this is stupid” as his rationale for rejecting proposals.

Looking up at the clock and seeing the hand tick closer to 2am, he groans into his hands and decides that the responsible choice would be to go to sleep and pray that tomorrow never came.

Putting on his jacket, he barely gives his desk a second glance as he leaves to lock the office door. Once in the elevator, he pushes the button to the fourth floor and immediately slumps against the railing on the wall of the elevator. With his hundredth sigh of the day, he tries to think on the brighter side. Since no one would be up at this god forsaken hour, he didn’t need to wait for the elevator to open on every floor.

When the elevator stops, Hoshina rolls his eyes at his luck. Looking up at the ceiling and exhaling, he doesn’t bother to acknowledge the person entering the elevator.

It wasn’t until he heard the familiar click of your tongue does he snap his head down to see you standing beside him.

There you were.

Standing with your arms crossed and staring at the doors of the elevator as if they’ve wronged you. The object of his affections and his frustrations. The person he was craving most at the moment.

Seeing you in the flesh again, skin pink probably from showering, shirt unbuttoned a little too low combined with the scent of your faded shampoo wafting through the elevator…

Fuck it, the training room will have to do, Hoshina decides, quickly leaning forward to press the button to the second floor. He can feel the weird look you’re giving him, but he decides for both of your sakes he’s going to keep looking at the doors. God, he couldn’t believe your presence alone was doing it for him. He needed out now.

But, unfortunately for him, the world continued to ignore his wishes. With a slight tremble, the elevator slows in its tracks until it abruptly stops. Not being able to believe his luck, it wasn’t until the lights began to dim that he lets out a curse.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he hears you say as you immediately dig into your pocket to get your phone. Pressing the help button on the elevator, he waits for you to finish your call with security. With the way you were scowling, he knew the news couldn’t be good. With it also being so late, he doubts anyone would come rescue you guys any time soon.

“Yea sure, we can have super suits and high-tech weapons, but god forbid we have a working elevator” you mumble sarcastically after hanging up the phone. Barely looking at him, you announce, “they said they’ll have it fixed within an hour.”

“That’s fucking great,” Hoshina groans, massaging his temples with one hand as he curses whatever god fucking with him right now. Finally turning to look at you, he notices how far you were from him. You were practically squishing yourself into the corner of the elevator to distance yourself. With the night taking away his patience, he comments without any restraint. "Now what’s got ya so pissed off?”

You turn to glare at him. “Excuse me?”

“I said what’s got ya so mad ya can’t even stand to be in the same space as me,” Hoshina scoffs, adding fuel to the flames. “Scared I got cooties? A little too late for that, I’m sure.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You hiss, anger rolling off you. The piercing glare you sent his way satisfied him in a twisted way he couldn’t understand. He’ll blame the adrenaline and the frustration.

“What are you even doing here so late? Ah, sneaking out from the Captain’s room, I’m sure." You spit venomously, mocking his phrasing. "Wasn’t satisfied enough, so you’re coming to me?”

“Now what the hell are ya going on about?”

Your eyes narrow a fraction more. “Oh sorry, Vice-Captain. Did I hit a nerve? Sad that the Captain didn’t like you enough to let you stay the night?”

“You’re being ridiculous, you’re lucky no one else is here to hear you say that. If ya weren’t you, I’d have you punished for talking about Min- Captain Ashiro like that.” Shit, he was losing his grip.

You let out a hollow chuckle devoid of any humour. “No, no, you don’t need to correct yourself like that in front of me, Vice-Captain. I won’t tell anyone,” you say, drawing out the syllables of his title.

“Don’t call me that, y/n,” he growls. “Nothing is going on betwe-”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? Everything you’ve done to me. The late night training sessions, 'working' together on reports, having lunch together, everything that we’ve done together you’re now off doing it with her.” You continue, your voice getting more heated with every word. “Her interrupting us again and again, you think I can’t take a fucking hint? I know my place now, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Y/n, it’s nothing like that. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t b-”

His explanation falls on deaf ears as you continue your angry rant. “You know what? Kafka was right.”

Heart stopping, the flash of heat Hoshina felt throughout his body broke the dam holding the last bits of his sanity. “What’s Kafka got to do with anything?”

“Kafka noticed how you two were always together for the last couple of weeks. I told him it was nothing, but I guess I owe him an apology. I’d hate to see the look on his face when I tell him.”

“Ya seriously trusting Kafka over me?”

“I mean, why not? He’s trustworthy, he’s kind, he’s reliable-”

Hoshina lets out a hostile scoff, “Oh, and I’m not?”

“He’s never touched me and then gone off and-”

“He’s never what?” Hoshina pushes off the wall, making his way into your corner. “He better not touch you the way I do. And even if he did," his eyes gleam in a dangerous manner, "he'll never be able to make you feel the way I make you feel.”

Hoshina's tone is strong and sure. “Stop talking about that damn brat and listen. Nothing is going on between me and the Captain. I do not like her like that and I can promise you I never will.”

The sincerity in his eyes makes you hesitate. But you need his words. You need solid proof that he feels the same need for you that you do for him—so you push on anyway. “How can I be sure? How can I trust you?”

Not one to backdown, you meet him in the middle before he could completely corner you. With your finger to his chest, Hoshina takes a step back. His attempt to put space between you doesn't deter you as you push forward. In fact, it emboldens you to press on until his back hits the wall and your as nose to nose as you possibly can with your height difference.

Hoshina couldn’t think straight. The only thing he hears from you is jealousy, and it's going straight down to his dick. The feel of your body on his, the heat of the argument, the intensity of your glare, he was about to snap. "Please don't do that," Hoshina hisses.

“Where’s all the heat from before? Answer my question."

"Y/n."

The sternness of his voice makes you falter.

His hands raise slightly in a sign of surrender. "Don't touch me if you're not willing to take responsibility for your actions." He says in a teasing voice, but even you could hear the strain in them.

“What are you talking about.”

“If ya touch me now, I can’t promise ya that I’ll be a gentleman about it.” As if warning you about what's to come, Hoshina brings his hands down onto your hips, pulling you close until your hips press against his. His actions evoke a different kind of heat than your argument.

“How could I ever want anyone else when you’re the only one who’s always on my mind. You think everything I’ve done to ya up to this point was casual? That I was only teasing ya for fun?”

“Ya want proof? Fine.” He brings your hand to rest over his chest, his heart beating wildly at your touch. To lay it all down on the table, to bare his soul to you, he'll do it all if it means even the slightest chance you'll accept him.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Tell me to move away, to not touch you, to not love you, and I will never bother you again." He grits through his teeth. "God, tell me now so I can stop myself before it's too late." Maybe it already was, but he won't tell you that.

At your silence, his heart plummets. Hoshina lets go of your hand. “Sorry-”

"Kiss me, asshole."

"I- what?"

"Fine, I'll do it myself." You grab the back of his head and pull him towards you, lips crashing into his in a passionate fury.

After a beat, Hoshina hungrily returns your passion. His hands back onto your body with a fervor. The kiss was heated. It tasted like frustration, anger, jealousy and want. It was exhilarating and intoxicating and Hoshina didn’t want it to end.

Breaking the kiss for air, the intensity of your gaze sends a delightful shiver up his spine. "You drive me insane, you know that? Getting off on teasing me and then trynna back away when you finally got the chance to do something, to do anything. Do I need to spell it out for you? I want you. I want you all for myself." you say, grabbing a handful of his hair with a strength that was bordering the line between painful and amazing.

"Take responsibility? Talk about your fucking self. You've ruined me for anyone else. Do something about it."

“Yes ma’am.” Without hesitation, Hoshina dives back in for a kiss, and all that could be felt was lips on lips and the sting of teeth.

Hands grasping at every inch of your skin, he turns you and pushes you against the wall of the elevator. Lips moving from yours to your neck, his hand hungrily tugs at the top of your shirt. Unable to control his strength, the button pops, but your gasp is replaced by a moan as he bites into the expanse of your neck.

Motivated by the sounds you make, Hoshina snakes his arm behind your back—pressing your body against his in an almost suffocating manner. Blinded by his eagerness, he didn’t notice the lights turning back on and the elevator running again. It's not until the doors ding open, and you push him away does he finally come back to his senses.

Moving away from him, you use your hand to clasp at the top of your shirt—trying to replicate the security of the button he ripped off. You have half the mind to yell at him, but the smugness in his smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Satisfaction reeked from his body, and his cat-like eyes raking over yours made your knees weak.

The next time the doors open, he takes your hand in his and leads you out. "This isn't my floor," you say face flushed as you knew where he was heading.

"Yep, it's mine," he replies with uncontainable excitement.

He turns his head to glance back at you. “If I knew all it took for ya to confess was to trap ya in an elevator with me, I would’ve done this much sooner.” Hoshina says with a cheeky grin, hand gripping yours in a way that said you weren’t leaving him any time soon.

You roll your eyes, but you continue to follow him anyways. A small smile tugs at your lips.

“You’re unbelievable.”

#hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #self insert #y/n #kaiju no.8 fanfic #kaijuu 8 gou #kaiju no. 8

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formylovetodaryldixon · 6 days ago

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"My everything." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

A sleepless night after your and Daryl's baby was born.

A/N: Just a cheesy imagine hehe sometimes I like to imagine a soft dad!Daryl. I wrote this imagine for my Tom Holland page, so if you ever find it, you know why. Sorry if you see any grammatical errors. Hope you like it! Thank u.

Marley Rose Dixon was one month old now.

She was born in a warm room full of candles, in a blissful and foggy night in which the world of her mother and father was painted with beautiful colors again after walking in a grey world for so long, announcing her arrival with a loud cry that showed her freedom and her desire to live until the doctor (luckily, there was a few in Alexandria) placed her on your chest for the first time.

Marley was named after Daryl's older brother, and you didn't mind because despite everything, you knew how much he loved his brother. At first, the news wasn't easy for either of you two to take in (the option of abortion was considered at length), but the thought of a baby gave you both the hope that something better and more beautiful could come, too. And boy, it did.

Right there, the moment she was born, her blue eyes — identical to her father's — sparkled with the glow of two small diamonds, treasures hidden behind her long lashes from the first time she opened her eyes and gazed, serenely, at her parents, and the new world around her, a better world you two were trying to build for her.

But from that moment on, she cried, cried and cried from time to time.

At 2:54 am, Alexandria is submerged in a cozy dream far from the fear and death, unlike you, and it seems unreachable for you as you walk through your dark room taking soft steps and soft bounces, holding in your arms a small human being created from a great love and blah, blah, blah, other nonsense things you used to believe before being deprived of such a necessary resource, for your sanity and mental health (you didn't sleep much before her, and Daryl even less, but still), But you chuckle, numb from lack of sleep, tired, but at peace with yourself as her little head lies on your right arm and your left one gently caresses her back, wrapped comfortably in a white blanket with pictures of little elephants, just like the pillow in the shape of the same animal that Uncle Rick found for her during a run.

You love her, you are crazy about her, even if the days became difficult and the nights were exhausting, (even with the monumental help Carol and the rest of the family gave you), but all the reward is in being able to hold her in your arms, warm and safe. Daryl calls her his angel, his princess, and at the time, it is an appropriate nickname for someone who cries to make her demands heard.

You chuckle, again.

"Is she tellin’ ya a good joke?" Daryl walks into the room, holding a bottle of warm milk in his hand.

You and Carol taught him how to do it, and now, he is an expert. His brown hair is tousled, but it usually is so no one could tell the difference, eyes tired from lack of sleep, shirtless and in gray loose sweatpants he refused to wear at first.

“15 minutes to make the milk? I was starting to get worried actually." You raise an eyebrow, speaking softly. "Why did you take so long? The milk is in the kitchen, not in another country."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Daryl apologizes as he hands you the bottle, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch his daughter stop crying the moment she feels the bottle against her pretty pink lips. "I closed ma eyes and just fell asleep in the kitchen."

You frown, continuing to stroke Marley's back.

"In a chair? On the counter?"

At the sound of your voice, Daryl's head falls until he almost hits his chest with his own chin, waking up from his light sleep before looking back at you. It's still funny to you how easy it was for him to go without sleep all those years, but after a month with Marley, Daryl considered killing walkers an easier task.

"What? No. Standin’. Didn't know that was even possible."

You shake your head gently, looking away to your baby who is enjoying a meal at 3 in the morning, resting peacefully, just like a princess, in your arms with eyes closed, body relaxed, arms outstretched to pretend to hold the bottle in your hand.

“Even dad can get a nap; you sleep whenever you feel like it… so, where is mom's nap? I mean, I've slept an hour every night since you were born, the room is a mess like us, and my breasts hurt too much."

Daryl chuckles.

"Can't help ya with that, darling. In fact, I think that's exactly what got us into this mess."

"What?"

"Yer boobs." Daryl babbles, smiling wearily, eyes closed as he falls against the edge of the bed, only to stop holding his own weight when he can no longer bear it. “Yer incredible, amazing boobs. They’re amazing and I love ‘em so much, but they were the temptation that brought us… this beautiful gift."

You shrug your shoulders, agreeing with him.

"They are amazing, and she is beautiful when she doesn't cry.”

"That's when I love ‘er the most." Daryl answers, and a second later, you both chuckle in unison.

“Although, it was kind of your fault for wanting to do it without a condom, you horny bastard.”

Daryl chuckles, and because he wasn't used to doing that before you, that tiny sound was endearing.

“Ya regret it?”

"Never." You say with confidence, because you know that he did not regret the decision either. You laugh quietly, after a while. “But… you know what I was thinking?”

“Um?”

“That this would be a good time to save money so that she can go to a good college.”

Daryl wasn't used to making jokes, so with the help of the moonlight coming through the window, fighting the darkness of the room, he raises himself slightly to look you in the eyes, his brow slightly furrowed.

“Jesus, I’m just kidding.”

Daryl chuckles, falling on the bed again, one arm over his eyes.

“Ya think is a good idea if we teach her how to kill walkers when she gets older? Marley could be the new little ass kicker.”

You smile to yourself, because for some reason, your daughter's name on his lips is like sweet honey. And, although you wanted to protect her from that world, the rules had changed, and in order to survive, she was going to have to learn to take care of herself too. Fortunately, it was still too early to think about that.

So, asleep again, you leave Marley in her crib near the bed before returning to it, laying down next to Daryl as he rolls over onto his left side, taking advantage of the time that you still have until the baby wakes up again, just to repeat the cycle you have been living in since Marley was born.

But life still feels good despite the fatigue and the occasional physical pain, because she was everything you never imagined you could have, not in that world, and she, more beautiful than you had ever dreamed of during the wait.

"Thanks, peach." Daryl whispers, so close to you that you can feel his nose against yours, his hand caressing your waist over your shirt, but you're so tired that it takes you a few seconds to gather your strength to respond.

"Why?"

"For our baby, for lovin’ me, for givin’ me a home. Ya two are ma everythin'."

You smiled, sighing.

"You're welcome, love. We are very, very lucky to have you." You say, taking a breath to answer as you look at him: eyes closed, body finally relaxed after having her on his chest most of the day. He is a good dad, the best. "But still, the next turn is yours alone."

Daryl, amused, looks blindly for the warmth of your body to pull you against him, tickling you slightly and that have you both smiling softly despite the absolute exhaustion, a few seconds before you both can fall into a deep sleep, finally.

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #dad!daryl dixon

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shinysobi · 2 months ago

Text

pretty u

summary: when joshua, your best friend gets engaged, you can't help but feel as though you're missing out on something important. jihoon, your other best friend, kindly offers to set you up with one of his many friends. chaos ensues, seungkwan is an observer who knows everything, and unfortunately, mingyu is a hapless victim.

pairing: woozi x fem!reader

genre: crack, fluff, angst

word count: 10k~ish

warnings: alcohol consumption, general warnings apply

a/n: angst central again lmao but there's something good for everyone ig hehe also dedicated to gigi, who's been the first reader of this hehe

a/n 2: reblogs/comments/likes are, as always, much appreciated! tell me if you like it lmao

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Chapter 3

I learnt, at a very young age, that the best thing to do in any situation, is to ultimately do nothing. If you do nothing, then you will never fail. I’ve managed to spend my entire life doing the bare minimum, but right now? Right now, with Jihoon’s face half a feet away from mine, close enough for me to see the dried tears on his cheeks, I begin to wonder if it’s the best thing to do.

“You should say something,” Jihoon says, wiping his face, “I didn’t run half a mile uphill just for you to say nothing.”

What does he actually want me to say? I’ve furiously racked my brain to find the correct words to say to him; in the aftermath of the argument, but I’ve always come up empty. Its odd, and strangely humbling, this experience. Should I even say something? Am I allowed to? Jihoon stares at me, and it’s only then that I realise, he’s still holding my hands.

“I’m sorry.” I say, “I’m sorry for everything I said that night.”

“No, you were right. I shouldn’t have forced all those decisions on you when you were not—are not ready.” Jihoon says, “but I really can’t imagine myself in a world where I am not your friend.”

He leans down, picking up a plant, “for your kitchen garden. Your chive plant died last month.”

I take it from him, the lingering warmth of his hands on my skin, “this is your idea of a housewarming gift?”

“This is all I could get at such short notice,” he replies, “all the other stores were closed, so I got this from a street vendor.”

“That’s—unexpectedly sweet of you, Jihoon,” I say, turning to place the pot on the floor, “do you want to come in?”

Jihoon nods, before slipping off his shoes and his jacket, entering my still-unfurnished house. All of a sudden, I’m self-conscious about the state of the place, even if he has seen worse. What am I doing, getting worked up over Jihoon entering my home?

“Look,” he begins, standing in the middle of the kitchen, “these past few weeks have been a personal kind of hell for me. I know you don’t care, but I’m just putting it out there. Life without you, without seeing you every day, without talking to you, has been hell, and I don’t want to live in it anymore.”

“Jihoon,” I begin, but he holds up a hand, silencing me.

“I’ve felt like shit, knowing that you’re just out of my reach, to the point where even if I reach for you, you won’t be able to see me, to talk to me, to be the kind of person I know and love, and it’s been excruciating, having to live with that knowledge.”

“Jihoon, what are you trying to get at?”

He takes a deep breath, as if readying himself for something horrible, “what I mean to say, is that I lied.”

“What? You lied about what, Jihoon?”

“It’s about—” he throws up his hands, “don’t you have any alcohol around here? Why do I have to have this conversation with you while sober?”

“Jihoon, I just moved in today. Of course, I don’t have alcohol, you idiot.” I cross my arms over my chest, “if you have nothing else to say, then you should leave. It’s getting late, and I have a lot of work left to do around the house tomorrow. If all you came here for was to apologise then it’s fine, I accept your apology—”

“Damn, woman, will you let me finish? I’m trying to get at something!”

“Well then, get at it faster!”

“I lied about getting over you!”

One thing I hate about this apartment is how silent it is. In my previous apartment, at all times of the night, there would be someone making a noise, and I hated how it would disturb my sleep. Right now, there’s silence. There’s silence and then there’s us, standing in the half-dark. Jihoon looks like he wants to say something, but has been holding himself back.

“What-what do you mean?” I say, after what seems like a lifetime, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I said that I lied about getting over you. I liked you back when I was doing my military service, and I still like you now.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I can assure you, I’m just as serious about this as I am with my work.”

“Then are you saying—”

“I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time, and I think I’ll continue liking you for a long time.”

“Jihoon, I don’t like you like that.”

“I know,” Jihoon looks pained, and for the first time in my life, I want to lie and say that no, Jihoon, I like you too, but I can’t, “look, my feelings are my own. You don’t have to reciprocate them. You and I are separate people, and I don’t want to impose my feelings on you.”

“Then why did you say all this?” my voice communicates all my frustration, “then why did you come here and tell me all this, if you didn’t want to sway me? You were the person who kept telling me to move on, and now you come here and tell me this?”

“Because I felt like I was dying!” Jihoon yells, “not talking to you, not seeing you, not being able to text you, all this made me feel like I was dying. I didn’t tell you anything because I wanted to preserve our friendship, but when I can’t see you around, my heart feels as though it’s stopped functioning. All I could think about was you.”

“Jihoon,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray my frustrations, “you don’t like me in a romantic light.”

“Don’t presume my feelings.”

“I’m not! I’m just pointing out that we have been friends for a long time, and that your feelings for me might just be you overthinking your feelings of friendship and thinking its something else when really, its just friendship. I don’t think you like me romantically, Jihoon. I think you’re just confused.”

Jihoon doesn’t say anything for a long time. I would have felt better if he had cursed me, or if he had become angry, but all that remains of Jihoon right now, in this moment, is someone whose feelings are replaced with—just nothing.

Jihoon checks his watch, “look, it’s late, you should get some sleep.”

He turns around, opening the door, and pauses for a moment before turning around. “I don’t care if you’ve stopped, or if you’re terrified of moving forward. I’ll stay there with you until you’re ready. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“And another thing.”

“Yes?” I ask, voice cracking in the middle of the word. This is going to haunt me in my nightmares.

“Your dream,” Jihoon says, hand on the door handle, “I’ll help you fulfil it. No matter what it takes.”

—

Seungkwan is at my door the next morning, even before I’m fully dressed, carrying a box of Jeju oranges. Even before I can open the door fully, he’s in my apartment, staring at my face.

“My mom sent these for you, by the way,” he says, then takes a look at my face, “whoa, Sunbae, you look like you haven’t slept all night.”

“I know, I know,” I mutter, “just had some things to think about, that’s all.”

“Think about?” Seungkwan starts to unpack my crockeries, “you look like hell. I’m not kidding, you look awful.”

“Wow, thanks, Seungkwan, that sounds like a great compliment.” I mutter, settling down into a chair, “coming into my home on a Saturday and telling me I look ugly, way to make a girl feel great.”

“I’m not being sarcastic, I’m concerned. There’s a difference.” He sits in the chair next to mine, “is there anything I can help with?”

“Seungkwan, you’re sweet, but this is something I can’t really talk about.” I mutter, “some things aren’t meant to be shared with everyone.”

And really, what can I say? ‘oh, don’t worry, Seungkwan, my best friend since university, the person with whom I haven’t been talking to for the past few weeks, came to my apartment last night to confess that he had feelings for me?’ How does one even begin that conversation? Not to mention the embarrassment that Jihoon would face if I were to ever spill the beans to the guys. He’s always been intensely private, even in his romantic affairs. To spill his secrets would just be cruel.

It's really, really not as though I haven’t received romantic confessions. There have been people who have asked me out, who have said that they liked me, from university classmates to people at work. Even in school, when all I could think about were university entrance examinations, and how I had to get into a university in Seoul because that was where my sister went too, I had a few people tell me they had feelings for me, I have had people get angry when I turned them down, I’ve had people get sad when I said, no, I’m sorry. Yet, all this feels new. What do you actually say when someone you’ve known for years, tells you that they hold feelings for you? What is the appropriate thing to say, especially if you don’t know what your own feelings are?

“You know, I grew up with three older sisters, right?”

“Yes, you keep reminding me of it every other day.”

“Yes, so,” Seungkwan leans forward, inspecting my face, “you look like you’ve got something weighing down on your mind. And while I might not be Joshua-hyung or Jihoon-hyung, I can be a pretty good listener.”

“No, I don’t think I can tell you this. It’s not my secret to tell, and even then, I don’t want to burden you with something that shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place.”

“Sunbae,” Seungkwan asks, “does this have anything to do with Jihoon-hyung?”

I stare at him. “When did you get so fucking perceptive?”

“So, it is,” he leans back in his chair, self-satisfied and smug as hell, “I knew it. I knew he’d do something like this.”

“You knew?” I ask, and Seungkwan nods, “you knew, and you didn’t think of telling me? not even once? Not even a single heads-up?”

“And? What would we even say? ‘Jihoon-hyung likes you, please be advised he might try to confess his feelings?’ Would you have even liked it?”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t.” I shake my head, “really? This is something everyone knew about?”

Seungkwan nods, “I think most of us are aware of Jihoon-hyung’s feelings towards you, given how he acts.”

I hold up a hand, “Wait, pause. How he acts? What do you mean, how he acts? I’ve never seen him be anything other than perfectly normal with me.”

“That’s the problem with you,” Seungkwan clarifies, “your baseline is different when it comes to Jihoon-hyung. He treats you much more differently than he does all of us, and you’ve never noticed? Not even once?”

“No, clearly, I haven’t, Seungkwan, explain.”

Seungkwan takes a deep breath, as if trying to gather his thoughts into a proper sequence, and begins, “well, for once, he always does what you want, even if he is initially against it. With anyone else? You can’t even convince him to lift a single finger, but he drove all the way to the restaurant that one time, dropping the recording for Soonyoung’s new album. Sure, he didn’t get in trouble, but he did that just because you called.”

“He ran out of a recording session?” I have to repeat myself, because in all the years that I have known Jihoon, he’s always put his work before everything else. In university, he spent days and nights in the makeshift recording studio he had in his home, only venturing out to get food once every two days. Even his recording studio was off-limits to us, until he had finished working on a project. That Jihoon left Soonyoung in the middle of a recording session to come pick me up because I was drunk? “Should I apologise to Soonyoung?”

“The only person you should be apologising to, is me,” Seungkwan send me a dirty look that would have anyone else cringing, “I come here to help you unpack and decorate your home, and this is what I have to hear?”

“You’re a traitor. You’ve been hiding Jihoon’s feelings from me for god knows how long, and now you expect me to be nice to you? Get a grip on yourself.”

“This is,” Seungkwan wags a finger at me, “this is just shooting the messenger. You think the others haven’t kept his secret from you?”

“What? Even Jeonghan-oppa? He’s betrayed me too?”

Seungkwan smiles, “there are no allies in this stupid game you both are playing. We’ve all known about his feelings ever since he came back from the military and hung up that stupid photo of the two of you on his wall. He would have had it framed it if the quality wasn’t like it was taken on a microwave.”

I think about the picture, Jihoon with the flat cap and me beside him, flashing a wide, toothy smile. “He tried to get it framed?”

“Seungcheol-hyung had to talk him out of it, because it’s insane, having a picture of another girl framed and putting in your bedroom while you’re trying to get a girlfriend is not the best thing to do, in retrospect.”

“Ah yes, wasn’t this when he was dating the music major? The intern at the office?” I’m trying to keep my voice light, but unfortunately, I know everything about his past relationships, the serious and the casual. The girls at university, the intern he dated for a month before she dumped him, and the office worker who he dated for a year before she finally grew sick of him and left. “I don’t remember them that well.”

“Liar. You remember every detail.” Seungkwan grins, “just like Jihoon-hyung can recite the names of all your exes backwards if he wanted to, “You remember every detail about all of Jihoon-hyung’s relationships. Yes, this was when he was dating the intern, and Seungcheol-hyung pointed out that it probably would not be the best look to frame a picture of the girl your girlfriend hates, and put it in your bedroom where you could see it every morning and every night.”

“May we all thank Seungcheol-oppa for his infinite wisdom.” I say, and Seungkwan gives me a high five, “wait, she hated me? but I was nice to her! And not fake nice, which is what I generally am, I was actually nice to her!”

“She still hated you, though. There was nothing you could do about that relationship.”

“Really?”

“Really. It’s the same the other way around, too. Remember when you were dating that artist who hated the idea of Jihoon-hyung being around?”

“Oh, him? I remember that. He once tore down all the pictures I had with Jihoon, insisting that I was cheating on him. in his defence, we were twenty-three, so, I don’t blame him for making bad choices.”

Seungkwan groans, “this way, it’s going to take at least a hundred years before you wake up, too. Sunbae! Have you not realised it yet, or do I have to spell it out for you?”

“Realised what?”

“That you like hyung as well? That its not just him who’s chasing, but also you?”

I scoff, “no, I don’t like Jihoon! I don’t know why you are saying this, but I don’t like Jihoon. He’s simply a friend of mine.”

“You once drove to Hwacheon in the middle of winter for his birthday.”

“That’s different! It was his birthday, he was in the military, I had to do something! Besides, he only got one day for his leave, and none of you guys could go.”

“Sunbae, driving to Hwacheon is a bit too much, don’t you think?” Seungkwan stares at me, “you’re telling me you drove through snow and went halfway to North Korea for your friend?”

“Yes! No! I don’t know!” I wail, falling onto the floor on a heap, “all I know is that I want Jihoon in my life. I can’t live without him; these past few weeks, its as though life has lost its meaning for me. I don’t find my work fun anymore; I don’t have anyone to talk to anymore. I can’t give him up.”

“I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty romantic to me.”

I narrow my eyes, “you’re just enjoying the fun, aren’t you?”

Seungkwan giggles, “and what if I tell you I am?”

“I’d kill you.”

Seungkwan says nothing, just continues to grin as though he’s watching a sitcom, or a variety show. What would a variety show based on my life look like? Something like I Live Alone, but entirely for people struggling with romance problems; if I worked in a bigger broadcasting company, I would have pitched this idea. People would get on there, and just talk about their romance problems.

“Sunbae—no, noona.”

Seungkwan calling me by the familiar honorific catches my attention. Since I have known him, Seungkwan has never once referred to me in that familiar a tone, always with the more respectful sunbae, reserved for departmental seniors. Especially since joining the news desk, he has refused to call me anything but. It gives me a sense of respect, obviously, but it also seems as though he has always kept me at arm’s length.

“You’re being familiar with me, Seungkwan,” I say, “what’s happened?”

He sits next to me on the floor, staring at me, “noona, have you ever really done anything for yourself?”

I give him a look. “What do you mean, if I have done anything for myself? Everything I do is for myself; I think we’ve established that. If you made a list of the most selfish people you know, I would probably rank top five in there.”

“That’s what you think. You always keep talking about how you’re doing things for yourself, but in reality, all you do, is based on the needs of others.”

“I think you’re trying to make me into a martyr, Seungkwan, when all I have done is be a selfish person.”

“I also think that you consider yourself to be a selfish person because that’s what you’ve been taught to believe.”

“Seungkwan,” I say, mildly, “look at the society we live in. its either hyper individualistic, or it’s based on outdated systems of collective identity; either way, I’m not actually doing anything I want to do myself. It is all things I’ve been taught. How to be, how to act, how to think.”

“And that isn’t wrong, per se, but you have to think, at some point, that your existence is based on how others think of you. Even with Jihoon-hyung, you’re just going off of what we might think of you, what he might think of you. Have you even figured out your own feelings?”

“And what if we break up? What if I say to Jihoon, that yes, I’d like to date you too, but we break up soon? Within one month, two months? I’m terrified of losing him, to the point where I’m happy to be his friend just to keep him in my life. Why else do you think I rejected him?”

“You rejected him?” Seungkwan screeches, “noona, you’re in love with him, and you rejected him?”

“Being friends with him is more important to me than being his girlfriend,” I say, “to be his girlfriend is something I don’t want to imagine.”

“Because you don’t want to be his girlfriend, or because you don’t want to get your hopes up?”

I groan, lying back down on the floor, “I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it either.”

Seungkwan smiles, “hey maybe, you should try and think about what you want to do, before doing what everyone else expects of you. Even if that’s what you are going to end up doing anyway, maybe, you should at least be aware of what you want.”

—

On Monday, I walk into the office with my eyes bloodshot, and dark circles underneath them, ten minutes after the team meeting has begun. Both the Editor and the Assistant Editor take one look at my face and decide not to tell me anything for showing up late to the meeting.

“We were talking about your column, Sunbae,” Haewon says as I nurse my coffee, “the readers loved it. We’ve been getting so many responses and letters to the office after you began the column.”

“We are?” I ask, “who the hell is screening through the letters, then?”

“I am,” the Assistant Editor says, “I figured you didn’t need one more thing on your plate, and I sorted out whatever you had to. For the first time in a long while, we have fan mail coming to the office.”

“Huh?” I catch the last part of that sentence, “we have fan mail?”

“Yes, and a lot of it, too,” the Assistant editor smiles at me, “at this rate, we might start a radio show if we have the funds for it.”

“We’ll never have the funds for it,” I wave a hand, “having a radio show is out of the question.”

“Still, it seems nice that the desk is getting a lot of other attention too, other than doing book reviews and movie reviews.” The editor says.

“You do realise, all this is coming at the expense of my sleep?” I grumble, “this is the worst idea you could ever have. A radio show? I can barely talk to people. You want me to go on a show and talk to people in real-time?”

“Yes, yes, which is why we are not thinking about it,” the Editor clarifies, “you just need to continue writing the column as you have been. That much is enough for the desk.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Sunbae,” Seungkwan slides an energy drink towards me, “it’s enough for the desk if you just do things as they come by. No one is asking you to do more than what’s required.”

“You say that now, Seungkwan, but pretty soon they’ll be asking favours from you, too.” I smile at him, “don’t let anyone walk over you here. Its difficult to stop them once you’ve begun letting them have their way.”

During lunch break, Seungkwan sidles up to me in the cafeteria, where the members of the desk have congregated (on news of them serving galbi-tang), and asks, “Sunbae, have you finished moving in? Jeonghan-hyung wanted me to invite you to a party this weekend.”

“Why didn’t he invite me himself?” I ask through a mouthful of beef, “has he lost my number?”

“No, he’ll probably invite you personally, but he wanted me to tell you beforehand.”

I narrow my eyebrows, “what am I, some sort of minister? Why are there levels of protocol when approaching me for an event?”

Seungkwan shrugs, “you know how Jeonghan-hyung is. You once told him you were uncomfortable at a party, and he’s taken that to heart ever since.”

I roll my eyes. The party in question was one thrown in the first year of university, after appropriate introductions had been made, and me and Jihoon had been invited out to a party by Joshua and his friends, where I got blind drunk and regretted it the next morning. Ever since that night, the boys have been particular about when to invite me out, none more so than Jeonghan, who apparently vetted all his invitations through Seungkwan, “tell him I’ll be there. And from now on, don’t let him vet his applications through you. If he wants to invite me out, he can call me himself. I don’t mind.”

“You do realise, if I relay your message verbatim to hyung, he’s going to be even more cautious of you?”

“Well, I’ll tell him myself, then.”

“Don’t tell him.”

I stare at Seungkwan, who looks serious, “really, sunbae, let other people care about you once in a while. Jeonghan-hyung is only mindful of your boundaries because he doesn’t want to overstep. He doesn’t see you as a burden, or as someone he needs to treat with kid gloves for the rest of his life.”

“Well, doesn’t matter what he thinks. If he continues to treat me like I’m a child, others might get annoyed with his actions.”

“Others? You mean the people that respect you and are cognizant of your boundaries and your shortcomings?” Seungkwan places a piece of meat in my rice bowl, I’m almost done with eating, “sunbae, people that make accommodations for you aren’t doing it because they secretly hate you, or that they’re bothered by your presence in events. They’re doing it because they want you to be there, and they like you enough to go out of their way to make a place for you at the table.”

“Seungkwan, this is much more complicated than that.”

“I don’t see why it has to be so complicated,” he says, standing up, “you keep being kind to people, but when they want to extend that same kindness to you, you reject it, saying its excessive. Aren’t you hurting yourself in the long run?”

“Seungkwan,” I hold my head in my hands, “I can’t just change my way of thinking.”

“Yes, I know,” he shakes his head, “just that—you should try at least.”

—

When I enter my apartment that evening, there’s a cloud hanging over my head. Its not simply the absence of Jihoon, but also Seungkwan’s words. To think that I haven’t been trying to accept the attentions of people, well, why am I trying to deny it? its correct.

My phone rings, and I pick it up without even checking the caller ID, “hello?”

“I had to hear from Jihoon that you had moved.”

I sigh. This is the last think I wanted to do at this moment, have a conversation with my mother, “sorry, I didn’t have a lot of opportunities to talk to anyone. I was too busy with work these past few weeks.”

“Still, it would have been nice to know that you moved, from you, and not from Jihoon.”

“Wait, mom, why—why are you talking to Jihoon instead of me?”

My mother laughs on the other end. It’s a nice thing, to hear her laugh, “because Jihoon, no, not just him, all of your friends call me more than you do. Jihoon even came by our house a few weeks ago, and had a meal with us.”

I sigh, “really, Jihoon—he’s going to piss me off at this rate.”

“No, don’t take out your frustrations on Jihoon. He’s a nice boy.”

I wonder how my mother would react if I told her that her ‘nice boy’ stormed into my apartment and told me he was in love with me ever since he went for his military service. She would probably jump with joy. “Sorry, mom,” I say, hoping my thoughts aren’t seeping into my voice, “I just started a new column at work.”

“Really? That’s so nice, I hope they aren’t overworking you.”

“No, mom, they’re not. I came home right on time today.”

“That’s good.” She says. I say nothing. What else is there to say? For someone who’s been alienated form their family for so long, all that remains is a string of hollow formalities and conversations that die out in a moment.

“How’s my sister?” I ask, in an effort to continue the conversation, “has she talked to you recently?”

My mother perks right up, “have I told you, your sister is getting married? She’s marrying Yong-Hwa in the spring. Has she not told you yet?”

In fact, my sister had told me, had told me how she was getting married to the love of her life, a prosecutor, and how she was envisioning the rest of her life with him, with children, a happy home, and more. It made me jealous; to see someone achieve their dreams when you are struggling with your own is not an easy thing.

“I heard,” I say, “how’s dad? Are his health problems persisting? Should I send more vitamins?”

“No, no, he’s perfectly fine. He’s still working as a lawyer, even though the doctor has told him not to. He says he’ll continue to work till he’s eighty.”

“Hah…dealing with father is tiring, isn’t it?” I groan, “I’ll come down the next time I get some time off. I’ll talk him into retiring properly.”

“You don’t have to do that,” my mother says, “knowing that you’re working hard is good enough for me, at least, this way, I can think that you’re doing well.”

“That’s good, then,” I reply, “sorry, mom, I’m getting another call. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Okay, but don’t go for too long without talking to us.”

This is fine. To know that my parents are doing well, its okay. I can hold on for longer if that’s what helps them. I’ll be the daughter they’re proud of.

—

I’ve been wandering for far too long. Always trying to be the best version of myself. But what lies at the end of this journey? Is it just a means of fulfilling my parents’ wishes?

On most days, I want to be alone. So, I push people away, just to benefit myself. It has got nothing to do with how I feel about them, it’s just how I feel most at ease. I’ve always been on my own, its just easier. Its easier to be the person people relied on, instead of the person who had to rely on others. But just for once, I’d like someone to tell me that it will be okay. It will be okay to break down, that it will be okay if I fail. My life has been so barren, that even trying to do anything otherwise is too much. For so long I’ve been someone whose life has been dictated by the wishes of others, that I fear I wont even be able to live well if I decided to live by my own.

What does it mean, to have a dream? I had a letter sent to me, saying that their dream is to find happiness on their own. Well, happiness is something that comes after a long time. I’m searching for it too, but I hope you find it, sincerely. To walk towards happiness isn’t something that’s easy. But I appreciate you for taking that step. To walk towards what you want. What you need.

There’s another letter, that says, ‘I don’t have a dream yet’. Don’t worry, a dream isn’t something that’s complicated. They aren’t supposed to be; you’re supposed to find something that makes you happy, that makes you want to live again. That’s all. that is all there is to a dream. All around us, people are living day to day, they’re living without finding what makes them happy. I hope it finds you soon.

I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to find something that gives me purpose. The way I’m living now, it’s enough for me, to live an average existence, to live in a way that gives me peace, if not happiness.

What happens when that peace is taken away, too?

—

Jeonghan throws good parties. That’s a given. It’s not as though he invites many people, or that his parties are a riot of good fun, but he always makes people feel at ease, if not with his actions, then with his words. Its who he is. A source of constant comfort, that I feel guilty for trying to take advantage of.

I arrive at his house after finishing work with a bottle of wine, hesitating before I press the doorbell. Jeonghan lives in a house in the middle of Seoul that he got for dirt cheap because the people who lived in there were violently murdered in the early ‘00s, a fact that I had asked him about once, and he had simply brushed it of by saying that if there were ghosts, he would befriend them. I’d given up on asking him after that one exchange.

The door opens within ten seconds of me ringing the doorbell, and Jeonghan greets me with a wide smile, “I thought you wouldn’t come! Can I give you a hug?”

I nod, “I told you I would be there,” but the rest of my sentence is drowned out by Jeonghan enveloping me into a large hug. He smells like an expensive perfume, mixed with the familiar smell of chicken and beer. Ah, so its that kind of party.

“Make yourself at home, the rest of them already have.” He says, ushering me into the living room, “the rest of the boys are already here. We were just waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“Because, my dear writer, you’ve always turned down any invites for parties for five years now. Now that you’ve accepted my invite, you’re the star of this gathering.”

I don’t say anything, but my discomfort must have shown on my face, because he suddenly stops me, “hey, just so you know, I meant that as a joke. Seungcheol just got a big promotion at work, so he’s been bragging about that for an hour now. I doubt anyone will pay attention to you.”

“That’s nice.”

All around the low table, there are cans of beer, snacks, and boxes of fried chicken. Jeonghan must have prepared for a lot of people to come. Seungcheol is talking about his job, how he was now the team manager of marketing, and how happy it made him, to have so much responsibility at such a young age. There’s Chan, Vernon, and Seungkwan, gossiping about their respective fields of work, and Mingyu is sleeping on the end of the table, while Minghao and Wonwoo talk about how work has been nowadays. Jun is noticeably missing from the group, but I can see him in the kitchen, making himself another drink, and then, there’s Jihoon. Seated between Joshua and Seokmin, talking about something I can’t hear. I stand still in my tracks, unable to move. What do I say? After rejecting him so painfully, what do I say? I’m sorry, Jihoon? Sorry about what? Sorry about not being able to accept genuine affection in the fears that it might ruin the one good thing I have for myself?

“Aren’t you going to sit?” Jeonghan asks, gesturing to a seat beside Jihoon, “I thought you would be more comfortable if you sat beside Jihoon, since you’ve known him for longer.”

In fact, I’d rather sit anywhere other than beside Jihoon, but I take the seat next to him gingerly, and Seokmin eagerly moves over. Seokmin is like a child, eager, soft around the edges, and someone you want to protect, no matter what. Maybe if I could look into people’s minds, Seokmin’s would be pure, devoid of any harshness of the world; is that why I tried to protect him even when I had no right to?

“Noona,” Seokmin giggles, “have I told you about the play I’m performing in? I’ll give you a ticket, so you have to come, okay?”

His energy is so infectious, I can’t help but smile with him, “of course, I’ll come to see you.”

“Are you okay?” Jihoon asks, his voice so quiet I barely miss it, “you don’t really come to occasions like these.”

“Felt like it,” I mutter, “new year, new me, or should I say new apartment, new me?”

Jihoon laughs, “yeah, you seem like you’ve changed. Your hands are shaking.”

I look down at my hands, and true enough, they’re shaking. Whether from nervousness or something else entirely, I don’t know, but they’re shaking. I ball my hands into fists. Whatever happens, don’t let anyone know what you’re going through. “just tired, perhaps.”

“You have been working too much,” Joshua pipes up, “you never reply to any of my texts anymore.”

“That’s because you keep asking me about flower arrangements,” I reply, “why would I look at flowers when I can’t smell them?”

“Sunbae is very busy at the news desk,” Seungkwan pipes up, “did you know, she has a new co—”

“Shut up, Seungkwan,” I mutter, reaching over to stuff a chicken leg in his mouth, “the work has been just harder these few days.”

Jihoon stares at me; it’s the same look he has in his eyes whenever he’s landed on something to probe, and sure enough, he asks, “why? What’s going on at the office?”

“Nothing!” I say, far too quick for it to even go past Seokmin or Joshua, (whom everyone, not just me, have deemed as the most scammable) “its nothing! Seungkwan just wanted to brag about his workload to everyone else.”

“Why the fuck would he do that?” Vernon asks, but is largely ignored by Jeonghan (my angel prince saviour Jeonghan) who arrives with drinks, a grumpy Jun in tow, announcing, “who wants shots!” and despite pushing thirty, Seungcheol, who had paused bragging about his work promotion, raised his hands, grabbing one of the shot glasses. Even Mingyu wakes up from his nap, raising his hand in the air and grabbing one of the shot glasses. They’re all going to regret it, I think to myself, then, feeling Jihoon’s eyes on me, grab a couple of the shot glasses myself. The drink is sugary, and multicoloured (Jun once wanted to be a bartender in university). It goes down far smoother than expected, since I’ve had Jun’s drinks since university, and they have tasted like battery acid far too many times for me to expect something nice out of his concoctions.

“This is actually nice,” Chan says, “hyung, what did you put in this?”

“Won’t be telling you,” Jun pulls a face, “you’ll just make it for other people and then take credit for it.”

Of course, this ensues in a squabble, with Chan loudly protesting that he would never do that to his beloved Jun-hyung (he would, I know) and Jun proclaiming that Chan is nothing but a dirty jerk who wants to put his grubby little hands, on Jun’s hard work and his creation (most likely, it was from a Reddit forum on bartending). One by one, the rest of them enter the argument, and I lean back into my seat, laughing at their antics. Its always chaos when I meet the boys, but somehow, its also peaceful. They’re loud, boisterous, and from whatever pictures Joshua and Jihoon had shared from their one shared ‘boys’ trip’, dirty as hell (these people laid out a carpet of towels instead of just drying their feet) but they know how to put someone’s mind at ease. Or at least, my mind at ease. I don’t know about others.

Its almost two in the morning when they quiet down. Jeonghan might have bought this house because it was dirt cheap and he wanted to make friends with the ghosts, but this house has one of the most gorgeous verandas I’ve ever seen. It looks out onto a peaceful Seoul street, and in the middle of the night, there’s no one here to complain if I smoke a cigarette.

I light one up, letting out a puff of air as I sit down on the marble flooring. It has been a long time since I smoked a cigarette (three days), and some of the smoke goes into my eyes when I let it out of my lungs. Its not enough to make me cough, but my eyes water nonetheless.

“You can smoke inside, if you want.” Jeonghan appears at the corner of my field of vision, “in fact, I think Minghao is smoking one right now.”

“Just wanted to get away from the noise a little,” I say, shaking the cigarette, “want to sit beside me?”

He shrugs, but crosses his legs and sits beside me on the marble flooring anyway.

After barely a minute, he turns to me, and without any warning, says, “so, has Jihoon told you he’s in love with you?”

I start coughing. Big, hacking coughs, and he just stares at me while I recover. I cannot believe I called him my saviour. “What—what do you mean?”

Jeonghan, the irritating bastard, still has that same, serene smile on his face, “you can’t possibly think that we all spent the last few years with our eyes closed now, have you? We’ve all known about Jihoon’s feelings for you, and now that you’re here, I can see that its reciprocated.”

“Wha-how are you even making these assumptions? I don’t have any feelings for him!” I whisper, “and yes, I know about his feelings. Even if they caught me somewhat by surprise, I’m aware of what kind of feelings he has for me.”

“And?” he leans close, “how does that make you feel?”

“How should it make you feel? I feel worried.”

“Worried?” he pulls a face, “if you wanted to get him off of your back, you’d say something like ‘I feel uncomfortable’, but you aren’t, because you don’t really feel uncomfortable, do you?”

I stare at him, fuck Jeonghan and his perceptive nature. “it’s not that I don’t feel uncomfortable, I just-don’t see the point in his confession.”

“Why? Why would a mere confession have you feeling this way? If you don’t want to accept it, then just say so. No one here,” Jeonghan points to the room, “will fault you for that. In fact, I think they’ll all commend you for it. Jihoon can be a tad bit difficult at times.”

I scoff, “he’s not difficult, he’s just—Jihoon.”

Jeonghan laughs, “see, I knew it. I knew there was something else there that you weren’t letting on. Now, come on, tell me,” and then spreads his arms wide, “tell oppa what’s bothering you.”

“If you refer to yourself as oppa again, I might have to kill you.”

This time, he laughs loud enough for people to hear inside, “fine, fine. I won’t be doing that anymore. But tell me, my dear writer, have you never thought about it? even once?”

I shrug, “of course I have. Everyone has those kinds of thoughts once in a while, I’m no different from the others, of course I’ve thought about it.”

“And?”

I shake my head, “nothing good will ever come out of it, because it’s a fifty-fifty chance. We either stick together until the end of time, or we break up and I can’t interact with him ever again.”

“So, you’d prefer to not try at all.”

“Yes, that’s exactly it.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long time, and then finally, shrugs, “it’s your choice. If you don’t want to do something, then you shouldn’t force yourself to. But can I tell you something?”

“Yes?”

“When did he say that he started having feelings for you?”

I think for a moment, “since his military service.”

Jeonghan grins, sly, just the way I know his smile works, “As someone who’s seen Jihoon since his university days, I can tell you something. He’s got it wrong.”

“Wrong?”

“Yes. He’s liked you since the day you walked into his life. There has been no moment in time when he was not in love with you. He might have realised it late in life, but he’s always been in love with you.”

I stare. Jeonghan isn’t the kind of person who makes random statements, so for him to say this, its strange. Jihoon has been in love with me ever since the first day? but that doesn’t make sense. “You do realise he’s dated other people too, while he was friends with me?”

“Of course, I know that. Both you and him have been running away from your actual feelings, but that doesn’t make it any more apparent that you have both been in love with each other since the day you met. Or at least, it has been that way for Jihoon.”

With that, Jeonghan stands up, dusting off his trousers, “there’s a guest bedroom in there for you. If you’re tired, just go inside and sleep.”

I look inside, where Chan is currently trying to balance a beer can on his forehead, “and the rest of them?”

“The rest of them can sleep on the couch,” he says, “it’s the least they can do after creating such a ruckus in my own home.”

“But you invited them.”

There’s a slightly evil glint in his eyes as he says, “yes, yes I did.”

—

The next morning, I wake up to people talking all over themselves, and the smell of pancakes wafting in the air. That has got to be Joshua. After cleaning up in the attached bathroom, I walk out of the guest bedroom, coming face-to-face with Jun, who’s carrying in his hands a very large tray, heaped with pancakes and a singular glass of milk.

“Is this for me?” I ask, and he nods, gesturing towards the kitchen, where Joshua is busy cooking a meal for thirteen people. Or fourteen, if you count me.

“Sorry, I can’t have breakfast right now,” I sidestep past him, and Jun follows me out into the kitchen, “sorry, but I have to leave right now.”

“Without having breakfast?” Jun asks, setting the tray down, where Chan promptly picks one up and stuffs it into his face, “you should have something at least.”

“Had too much to drink last night,” I offer up as a feeble excuse, avoiding Jihoon’s gaze. It’s strange, piercing in a way that I am not really used to, “I should probably get going. There’s still so much to be done in my apartment.”

“Speaking of apartments,” Wonwoo speaks through a mouthful of pancake, “when are you going to call us all over?”

“As soon as I can,” I reply, “I’ll host a potluck. You all can bring a dish, and it’ll be a party.”

“Instead of that, just make Mingyu cook,” Soonyoung grins, “he’ll be eager to help if it involves you. And cooking. But mostly, you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Jihoon stands up, slipping on his stupid khaki jacket, “here, I’ll give you a ride. Come on, then.”

“Ah but hyung, you still have so much on your plate—” Chan is promptly cut off in the middle of his sentence by a swift elbow to the ribs by Seungkwan, “hyung! Why the hell did you do that?”

Jihoon ignores the squabble currently breaking out at the dining table, and stares at me, his car keys dangling from his left hand, “want to come?”

Before I can say anything to accept the offer of a ride, Soonyoung raises a hand, “Jihoon, weren’t you supposed to meet the other producers and sound engineers today? I’m supposed to be there too, but will you not be attending?”

Even though Jeonghan hisses at Soonyoung to shut up, I can already see the cogs in Jihoon’s mind turning. Clearly, he wanted to talk to me, or at least, he wanted to make an effort to talk to me, “I’ll take a taxi, then.” I say, trying to make an excuse for myself, “don’t worry, Jihoon, you don’t have to drop me home.”

“No, I can drop you off and then go to the office,” he begins, but Joshua cuts him off (while wearing a Rilakkuma apron) saying, “can’t Mingyu take her home? He’s going in the same direction as her, so he can drop her easily. You don’t have to overexert yourself and drop her off at the apartment when you’re going in the opposite direction.”

While not one to turn down a free ride, I raise my hand to complain that I don’t need to take Mingyu’s car to go back home, but Mingyu walks into the room at that moment, and before I can say anything, Joshua turns to him, saying, “are you going back home right now?”

“Yes, hyung, I’m off for the weekend since Minghao is handling the meetings this time around,” he says brightly, “I can drop her off!”

“That’s settled, then,” Chan announces, “Jihoon-hyung can take Soonyoung to the company.”

“You brat,” Soonyoung scowls, “why is Jihoon hyung and I’m just Soonyoung? Do you have no respect for your elders?”

“I once saw you vomit into a flowerpot,” Chan says, “at that moment, you lost all respect in my eyes.”

Before another scuffle can break out over breakfast, Mingyu says loudly, “I’m leaving then!”

—

I’m a big fan of travelling in silence. Even if it is with someone I like, I prefer to sit in silence and contemplate, instead of chattering on about my life. That’s a lie. Mingyu chatters on and on about the new collection and how its selling better than he or Minghao expected, “This is such great news for a fashion brand that was launched less than a decade ago, noona,” he says, while driving his fancy car, and I sit still in my seat and pray that he hasn’t noticed the awkwardness between me and Jihoon. I don’t expect him to notice, either. Mingyu might be nice and well-meaning, but he’s also painfully oblivious.

Which is why it takes me by surprise when he turns to me, while the car is halted at a stop sign, and says, “so, have you figured out what to tell Jihoon-hyung yet?”

I cough, “how-how did you know about that?”

Mingyu laughs, “you think we all were unaware of how he feels towards you? Pfft. Noona, we’ve been observing him since he was in university. He’s always been gone for you.”

I stare resolutely out of the window, “you’re evidently kidding.”

“Noona. He used to stay up with you when you had exams, he used to make sure you weren’t dead when you used to hibernate for long periods of time, he even had a space for you in the stupid apartment studio, are you seriously telling me you had no idea that he was in love with you all this while?”

“Of course, I didn’t!” I want to scream and tear out my hair in frustration, “of course not! I thought he was just looking out for me because I was his only female friend, and after university, I thought to myself, that this is how he usually is! Why would I think that he’s in love with me?”

“Well, he thought that it would be enough to impress you.”

“We were twenty-two! I thought he was an immature weirdo who had no idea how to maintain female friendships!”

“Yes, he’s usually like that,” Mingyu resumes driving, “but he’s got degrees of being familiar.”

“I know. Jihoon’s like a cat. He approaches you at his own pace. Doing anything else will just push him off.”

Mingyu laughs, “you know what, noona, I think you’re a lot like a cat too.”

“Kim Mingyu, watch what you’re saying.”

He grins, “you know I’m correct.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to say it this way.”

“The way I see it,” he says, slowing down as the car turns into the parking lot of the apartment, “you’ve always approached people at your own pace too. Seokmin and I were overenthusiastic when meeting you for the first time, and you refused to even acknowledge me for the rest of the semester.”

“Sorry about that, really.”

“We didn’t mind then, and we don’t mind now,” he shrugs, “its just who you are. And to accept the kind of person that one is, and then to continue caring for them, yeah, that’s love.”

“Jihoon’s just my friend,” I say, getting out of the car, “he’s just my friend, nothing more.”

“Noona, the fact that you keep repeating this to all of us, makes me wonder who it is that you’re trying to convince. Is it me, the rest of us, Jihoon-hyung, or yourself?”

“Kim Mingyu,” I warn, “you’re overstepping.”

“Sorry, noona, but I have to ask,” he walks into the elevator after me, “have you always seen him as a friend, and nothing more? I saw how you used to, no, how you still treat him differently than the rest of us. You’ve always had a soft spot where he was concerned. In fact, you still do, and you’re hiding it.”

“Drop it, Mingyu. You have no idea what happened the last time I said anything about this.”

The elevator dings, opening onto our floor, and Mingyu steps out right behind me, “Then tell us, noona. We, all of us, Jihoon-hyung, everyone around you—we are stumbling around in the dark because you’ve been so closed off about your past.”

I shake my head, pressing the keys in the keypad lock, “maybe, you shouldn’t be knowing about this one, Mingyu.”

The door closes behind me with an audible click, and even without pressing an eye to the keyhole, I know Mingyu is still standing in front of my door, deliberating over whether or not to knock. In the end, his loyalty wins over his curiosity; he walks away, over to his own apartment.

I sink into a heap at the doorway. What do I do? I know I’ve told Jihoon to ignore the confession and be exactly as we were before, but that is not possible anymore, now that I know how he feels towards me. every interaction I have with him will be grappling with this same truth, and I’ll always be wondering about how he feels towards me.

Out of habit, I pull my phone out of my pocket, swiping through messages and emails, when one of them catches my eye. It’s a simple, single-line message.

Read your column. I know its anonymous, but I know how you write.

—Sungwon

How bad is rock bottom? Is it possible to go below that? I have to remind myself to breathe, as I slowly collect myself from the floor, and go about the rest of my morning. Of course, I shouldn’t think about the people who have left me behind. It’s a disservice to myself. I’ve spent enough time and money in therapy to know that. But what happens when the past refuses to let go of you?

I dial the first number I can get my hands on. After three rings, Jeonghan picks up, his cheerful voice filling the line, “hi! Did you reach home already? Did Mingyu crash the car?”

“Oppa.” I say, “you have to listen to me carefully.”

“Why?” Jeonghan’s voice, so cheerful moments before, has been filled with anxiety, “what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, even as Jihoon’s voice floats over the line, yelling is she okay? “don’t let Jihoon know anything’s happened, please.”

“Yes, you reached fine?” Jeonghan says, voice nonchalant, “okay, I’m in another room, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Jeonghan-oppa.” It’s taking all have to not break into sobs, “I once told a friend, that I liked them.”

“Okay, and?” his voice is kind, so kind, that it drowns out the other voices in my mind saying you don’t deserve this, “what happened?”

“He said—he told me that I’d ruined our friendship, and he never talked to me after that.”

“Oh, oh no, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to hear that. What else can I say, that will help you feel better?”

“Just—hear me out, for now,” I continue, “and he’s never contacted me, but all of a sudden, he sent me an email last night.”

“What did he say in the email?”

“That he’s been following my writing. I don’t understand, how is it easy for people to be like this when they’ve hurt someone else?”

“Are you afraid Jihoon is going to break off all contact with you, and then email you years later like some kind of pathetic loser?” he scoffs, “if he did that, I would be first in line to break his legs.”

“No, I’m afraid I’m going to be that person to Jihoon,” I sob, “I think I’m going to hurt him and leave him behind, and that I’ll be the person to deal him that cruel hand.”

The line is silent on the other end.

“Jeonghan? Are you there?” I ask.

“It’s me.” Jihoon’s voice sounds rough around the edges, as though he’s been crying, “I heard everything.”

“Jihoon.” I plead, “please don’t do anything that’ll hurt you.”

“I’m coming over in ten minutes,” he mutters, hanging up.

And it’s done. Over. Fuck. I’ve thrown away years of friendship because I didn’t want to accept my own emotions and grow beyond the scared girl I was as a child.

I want to cry, but even that effort is too much for me, sinking down into a heap in the middle of my living room, listening to the sounds of the wall clock ticking down every second.

Even before ten minutes are up, the keypad beeps, before the door opens to reveal a very windswept Jihoon.

“How did you know my password?” is the only thing I can say to him.

He rolls his eyes, “you use the same password as my studio. Of course, I know your password.”

“Fair.”

Jihoon stares at me for a beat, then takes a deep breath, before kneeling down on the floor beside me, “I overheard everything.”

“I’m going to curse Jeonghan and his high-volume phone,” I mutter, “I told him to keep it a secret.”

“To be fair, he was only protecting you.” Jihoon laughs, “he didn’t know I was more persistent than he could ever imagine.”

I shoot him a dirty look. Jihoon sighs, “look, I know, the way I said things to you, wasn’t the most ideal—”

“They were horrible, actually,” I cut in, “you yelled at me that you loved me, and then you left.”

“—man, just let me finish,” Jihoon says, without any real spite, “but I wanted to tell you, that my feelings still haven’t, and will not in the future, affect the way I see you. I’ve always been proud to call you my friend, even if you keep secrets from me.”

“I don’t keep that many secrets.” I mutter.

“Really? Then what about the whole anonymous column thing?”

“You knew about that?”

Jihoon scoffs, “I’ve seen you write since the beginning of university. I know how you write better than anyone else, of course, I knew it was you.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I’m respectful.”

I scowl, “continue.”

“I just wanted to say that even if you wanted to push me away, you can’t,” Jihoon says, smug smile on his face, “I’m impossible to get rid of.”

“You’re not selling yourself very well.”

“You still haven’t given me an answer to my confession.”

“Look, Jihoon, it would never work,” I say, turning away from him, “we know too much about each other. We’ve seen each other’s worst moments. And what if we break up? Who’s going to tell the rest of the boys that we no longer have the same dynamic that we used to have and that its going to be different around us? They have the tact of a bull; you know how they are going to be.”

“That’s them,” he replies, “I’m asking about you. I want to know what you think.”

I sigh. Jihoon’s face is remarkably close to me; from here I can make out the tiny little freckles he has, and the way his eyes are shining, “I’m scared.”

His skin is so soft under my touch, has he always been this way? Jihoon leans into my touch as if he’s never felt anything like this, “scared of what?”

“That I’ll like you too much. That once I take a step forward, it’ll be too difficult to restrain myself again.”

Jihoon laughs, the tip of his nose touching mine, “one step forward, is okay. It’s allowed.”

“Are you quoting Crash Landing on You?” I laugh, even as his lips touch mine.

Kissing Jihoon is an experience; his skin feels soft under my touch, but his lips are insistent against mine, demanding and reverent alternatively, as though he can’t believe his luck that he’s kissing me, or that this is a dream, and what he needs to do is possess it, and then, this memory of a moment will be forever engraved in his heart. My hands go to the back of his neck, where his hair is softer than usual—has he washed it—but all I can feel, under my fingers, is how his heart beats, quicker than I’ve ever imagined it to be, and how it mirrors my own.

I don’t want this moment to end.

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meatonfork · 2 years ago

Note

HII I JUST READ YOUR BLOODY HELL AND I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO ONE WHERE THE READERS KIDNAPPED AND WHEN THE TEAM GOES TO FIND THEM THEY ALREADY KIMLED EVERYONE AND THEYRE JUST WAITING THERE CAUSE THEH DONT KNOW WHERE THEY ARE BUT THEY KNEW THE TEAM WOULD COME. IM SORRY IF I WROTE A LOT IM JUST EXCITED 💗💗

hello?? i’m so glad you liked bloody hell!! :’)

again, i’m still working on capturing everyone’s character, so PLEASE bear (🐻) with me hehe

——————————————————————————

Cried for help, help came

pairing: platonic 141 x gn!reader

grim is back yall :’)

warnings: usual cod violence, blood, death, the works ya know

——————————————————————————

your hands were shaking.

blood covered you from head to toe.

you were unrecognizable.

your wrists were rubbed raw from being chained to the wall. looking around, you honestly don’t remember how long ago that was.

the room reeked. death, blood, must. it invaded your nostrils, leaving no room for anything else.

you didn’t feel any pain. which seemed odd. you’d been here for so long.

how long was it?

a day?

a week?

a month?

however long it was doesn’t matter. you went through hell.

the room was dark most of the time. a single table with a chair was sat in the middle. in front of where you dangled. your feet had barely touched the ground. lifting your pounding head had been too much for you, so you let it rest against your chest.

“who the fuck are you” the man in front of you seethed. his breath reeked, but you still refused to talk.

this wasn’t supposed to happen. the mission was supposed to be in and out. easy as that. you guess the target had other plans. he’d caught you off guard while searching the building, efficiently knocking you out from behind.

you woke in a room you’d never been in before, panic immediately setting in.

when he didn’t get an answer, he lifted your chin. smooshing your cheeks in one hand, while a knife was grasped tightly in the other.

you were hungry.

so fucking hungry.

and tired. you could really use a nap.

“one more time, bitch. who are you.”

spit welled up in your mouth, and you spat right in his face.

he mouth turned up in a snarl, and he quickly sliced the knife over your right side. a hiss escaped your mouth.

this went on for what seemed like hours. questions thrown in your face, only for you to answer with silence.

the torture and the pain going on for longer until you ultimately passed out.

the next time you awoke, the room was pitch black, save for the light seeping under the door. you made quick work of loosening the ties around your hands.

the door opening made you flinch, and your eyes welled shut from the light suddenly invading your eyes.

footsteps made their way over to you, and you kept your head down. counting your breaths in your head, you waited until the footsteps stopped in front of you.

1 in

2 out

3 in

4 out

now.

with all your strength, you lifted your feet and flung them into the man’s abdomen, effectively knocking him to the ground. hissing, you wiggled until your hands were finally free and you dropped to the ground with a thud. your side was screaming in pain, and you were sure at least one rib was out of place.

the man got back up and threw himself on you. you yelped, and tried to slip out from under him. it was no use, you were just too weak.

he laughed at your weak attempts, and pulled a knife from his thigh. your eyes widened as he raised it above his head.

this is it. i’m dead.

he was too slow. just as he brought it down to go through your head, you jerked to the side. the knife pierced right below your collarbone, and you screamed.

you flailed your body, throwing your attacker off of you. as quickly as you could, you got up and flung yourself at him. with much discomfort, you pulled the knife from your shoulder and slit his throat. a small scream left his mouth before blood seeped through his lips.

movement by the door pulled your attention away from him. three more men stood in the doorway.

fuck.

the first man, tall and burly, but smaller than ghost, stalked toward you. a rifle sat in his hands, quickly setting his sights on you. you jumped for the table, pulling it down as a spray of bullets rained in your shadow.

a click was heard. he was empty. you leapt from behind the table and lunged for him.

knocking him down from the side, you put your thighs on his shoulders and snapped his neck. he was dead.

a shot rang out, and blinding pain hit your left thigh.

he fucking shot you.

you grimaced and rolled to the right. picking up the first man’s body, you used him as a meat shield. the thought almost made you throw up, but he was already dead. not many options.

sorry, dude.

the man was thrown off. you were using his teammate as a fucking shield.

pushing his body at your newest attacker, you caught him off guard. they both fell, and you used this time to go for the third guy. he was a lot closer than you remember, and you feel a dull thump thrown into your face.

a sickening crunch sounded from your nose. the metallic taste of blood ran into your mouth and you gagged.

fucking gross.

rebalancing, you looked up at him. his eyes held fire, and you didn’t blame him. looking to your left, just slightly, you saw the second guy’s gun. you leapt for it, feeling the presence of the man behind you.

you didn’t even look.

you just turned around and held the trigger.

he looked like swiss cheese.

oh fuck.

his body fell to the floor with a thump.

blood pooled the floor around you.

your heart was racing and tears blurred your vision.

you were gonna throw up.

you were too distracted.

a tug to your hair pulled you back, and you screamed in shock.

grasping at the hands holding your hair, you dug your dull nails into their flesh and drug your hands down.

a grunt was heard, and your hair was loosened. you spun and kicked his foot from beneath him, causing him to fall back. you ran the other direction but a hand held onto your boot, causing you to fall onto your arms. a sharp pain ran up your elbow, and you gasped.

looking back, you see menacing eyes and an ugly mustache.

ew.

you wind up and kick his ugly mustache as hard as you can. a loud crunch was heard, and he let go. cursing flooded your ears, and you crawled to the chains that held you up only a while ago. you grab them and turn back to fugly. wrapping them around his neck and pulling as hard as you could.

you watch as he struggles, but you don’t feel sympathy. his face turning purple and his eyes bulging.

his hands scrape at your arms, drawing blood. but, you don’t seem to notice. he finally goes limp.

you don’t let go.

you. don’t. let. go.

it seems that minutes pass before your hands grow too tired to hold him there. the pounding in your head is almost blinding, and you can’t seem to catch your breath.

you crawl over to the far corner.

they’re coming.

they’ll be here.

you don’t know how many times you repeat that before a hand is in your face.

a gloved hand.

a skull mask quickly invades your sight.

you don’t respond.

you hear talking, but can’t form any words.

“grim. grim, can you hear me?” ghost’s voice is softer than usual. his eyes aren’t as cold, and he seems concerned.

your eyes meet his. all you can manage is a nod.

“yeah. yeah, i can hear you.” your voice is scratchy after screaming and not using your voice for what feels like years.

“good. yeah, that’s good. are you hurt?” he knows you are. he can see it. your shaking form covered in blood and bruises. he can’t tell where you’re bleeding from.

“nah, im good. cant feel a thing, l.t.”

“shit. jesus fuck.”

“let’s get them outta here, yeah? place is a fucking bloodbath.” soap.

soap!

your eyes drift from your lieutenant up to your favorite mohawk sporting teammate.

“yeah, bird’s here. we’re good to go. i’m gonna pick you up, is that okay?” ghosts’s voice floods back into your ears. you give another nod before his hands lift you up and carry you out of the building.

your eyes are heavy, and the loud whirring of the chopper blades make your head scream.

your head rests on ghost’s chest as he rushes to the helo.

“kid, you gotta stay awake, alright? we’re almost there.” his voice carries panic, and you try.

oh, you try.

but the last thing you remember hearing is, “fuck! medic!”

when you come to, a blinding light makes you immediately shut your eyes again. beeping to the right of you floods your ears, and you let out a groan.

“fuuuuuck.” your throat is raw and screaming for water.

“you’re awake, here.” you open your eyes again to see price to your left holding water.

“how you feelin’, kid?”

“like shit.”

and it wasn’t a lie. your whole body aches. your face, your shoulders, your throat, your abdomen, all the way down to your toes.

“that’s expected. you took a beating, kiddo. the room looked like horror movie. couldn’t tell who’s blood was who’s.” price’s voice made your eyes well up with tears.

a hand being placed on top of yours finally makes your eyes drag up to his.

“i thought i was going to die, captain.” your voice was no longer sturdy, it was cracking. you were scared. you were just a kid.

“i know. i know. but you made it. really fucking impressive, kid. we’re all glad you’re okay.” he sounded emotional, and his thumb rubbed across your knuckles.

sniffling, you look around the room to see the rest of your crew passed out in the chairs to your right.

ghost manspread, knees hitting both gaz and soap who were situated on either side of him. his arms were crossed and his head was thrown back. soft snores escaped his mouth beneath his mask.

soap’s arm was thrown behind ghost’s chair as his head leaned on his shoulder. gaz was curled up, back to ghost. efficiently using him as a back rest.

you giggled and turned back to price.

“i missed you guys.”

“we missed you too, kid.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: thanks for reading! and ty for the request! i hope this is everything you wanted and more :’)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john price x reader #john price #cod x reader #cod mw22 #gn!reader #task force 141 #angst #thank you for reading #i love them sm #i dont know how to tag #grim au

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beomiracles · 4 months ago

Note

HI SERENE :3 okay so first, love the new theme and i LOVED trocyj. it’s genuinely impressive how insufferable you made yj like u had me taking walks around my room out of frustration 😭😭

and also!! i was hoping to place a request :3 so recently i had this dream where soobin and i worked at an ice cream shop and soobin was my coworker who i was also crushing on 🤭 (not to mention the fact that he looked adorable in the pink uniform). during the dream while we were closing he literally like backed me into a corner amd was about to kiss me.. like lips barely grazing each other.. and then i woke up.

so i was hoping maybe u could reimagine it? pick up where the dream left off? and maybe make it a little spicy 😇 thanks again lovie!!

-⛸️

⌞ 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 ⌝

DREAM RECALL the closing shift with your far too handsome coworker leaves an even bigger mess to clean than what you had originally started with.

wc -> 2.7k

pairings coworker!soobin x coworker!reader (afab) warnings unprotected sex + pullout method, some fingering, mutual pining kinda?, kind of perv!soobin but also perv!reader, lots of kissing, big dick soobin + size kink

#serene adds ✎ hehe thank you for liking the theme!! and trocyj omg, I could talk about that fic for days.. I see why everyone's pissed with yj but his character was genuinely so much fun to write >.< I'm also like insanely jealous of your dreams because wtf is this. lend me your mind.

I skimmed this once, let me know if I missed anything !

“Ah, no sorry, I’m afraid we’re out of chocolate..” You apologize as you watch the young girl’s face fall. She turns to her mother with a small pout and you bite your lip as you think of a way to salvage the situation. Just as you’re about to suggest the strawberry or mango flavor instead, your colleague's voice cuts you off. — “I’m sure we have some leftovers in the back”, Soobin chirps as he leans over the disk to peer down at the girl, “would you like me to go check?” Her face immediately brightens up as she nods feverishly and her mom gives him a thankful smile.

Upon leaning back up, his large hand brushes past your lower back and you feel your breath hitch at the small touch. “Be right back”, he grins before disappearing through the door leading to the large freezer. — Despite having worked together for nearly three months now, you couldn’t help but do a double take whenever you saw that the two of you would be having the next shift together. Nor could you control the way your heart almost beat out of your chest whenever he as much as glanced in your direction.

It was a hopeless crush that you were not planning on pursuing. Because there was no way that someone like Soobin would even consider someone like you. Not that he had ever mentioned a girlfriend or anything of the sort, or that you had even dared to ask. But you still refused to acknowledge your feelings as anything else besides a small heartthrob.

Not before long, does he re-emerge from the small storage unit, a package of chocolate ice cream in his hands. You find your gaze lingering on his pink uniform, sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms, and you bite the inside of your cheek as you follow their movement when he places the box down. — It isn’t until the mother goes to pay that you’re snapped back to reality, stumbling over your words as you squeak out a quiet, $2.35.

“Here you go”, Soobin smiles as he hands the little girl her cone of ice cream. She giggles as she takes it from him, making a shy comment about him having soft hands. You refuse a small smirk, watching the tip of his ears turn pink as he chuckles.

⸝⸝

As the last customer leaves an hour later, you walk over to flip the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’. Somewhere behind you, you can hear Soobin shuffling around as he moves the ice cream from the disk by the front and into the freezer in the back. — You had shared plenty of shifts together, but this would be the first time you closed up just the two of you. Without the bustling noise of customers, the air suddenly felt twice as thick and you swallowed a small gulp before joining him behind the counter.

Immersing yourself with popping the lid back onto the containers, you think of something to say, something to break the silence lingering between you. “Here let me help you”, he suddenly exclaims and you almost drop the three boxes in your arms, startled by his sudden appearance. If he noticed it, he didn’t make a comment on the matter, flashing you a small grin as he took two of the now sealed containers from your hands. “T-Thanks”, you stammer, trying your hardest not to let your cheeks flare up at the way his fingers brushed over yours.

"Jesus christ pull yourself together", you mutter as you follow him into the storage room. The cool air in there was refreshing, easily washing off the heat emitting from your flustered body and you exhaled in relief. — You let him go first, watching as he places the ice cream boxes amongst the rest, gaze lingering on the way his forearms flexed as he did. He turns to you with a small grin and you blink a couple of times before springing into action as you walk over to the small corner.

Your hands feel clammy against the container in your tight grip despite the cold temperature of the room. Thinking that he might leave and allow you a minute to yourself to regain your composure, you take your time as you lock up the small freezer in which the ice creams were kept. But there are no sounds of his retreating footsteps, and you can feel his gaze on you the whole time.

It isn’t until you turn around that your heart practically leaps out of your chest. Soobin was standing barely three inches from you, his chest near pressing against your own and your eyes widened as they flickered up to meet his. — You knew that he was tall, like really tall, and there was no mistaking his broad shoulders either. You would be lying if you said that you hadn’t fantasized about his large hands a couple of times, not that you would ever admit it out loud, you think you would rather face death itself.

But when this close, the back of your thighs hitting the cold steel of the freezer behind you, with nowhere to escape, you suddenly felt very small in front of him. He doesn’t say anything, biting the inside of his cheek, Soobin leans closer, so close that you could feel his warm breath hovering above your lips. — What was going on?

His gaze doesn’t stray from yours as he reaches a hand up to your face. Your eyes flutter closed at the sudden invasion of your personal space. Thinking that he might just actually kiss you, your heart almost beats out of your chest, the sound thumping in your ears like that of a heavy bass. But he doesn’t. Instead of grazing your cheek, just like you thought he would, his fingers aim for your hair as he brushes through it. Your eyes reopen, this time in slight confusion as you frown.

“You had something…in your hair”, he murmurs before letting his hand drop to his side. “O-Oh”, you breathe, running your own fingers through your locks as embarrassment flushes over your cheeks. He takes a step back and you feel your stomach drop, beyond ashamed over your obvious overreaction to the small gesture. — You don’t dare move as you watch him head for the door once more. God he would never want to work with you ever again.

It isn’t until one of his hands wraps around the handle that he stops. Still unmoving, you shift awkwardly by the freezer as you eye his tall frame, seeing him shake his head as he mutters something under his breath. — Then he turns around, the action so quick that you barely comprehend what’s happening until he’s in front of you again. Except this time he’s all over you, chest pressing against yours, his large hands easily covering the sides of your face as he pulls your lips to his.

He kisses you roughly, as if he was trying to convey a thousand words with a single move. Gripping on to the freezer, your eyes widen as your mind tries to process what was happening. But he’s quick to pull back, his breathing is labored when does. — “Fuck I’m sorry I… I just”, he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, taking a small step back as he lets go of your face. “Look I.. I don’t know what came over me I just–”

But you won’t hear any of it. Shaking your head, one of your hands snake around his neck, pulling him back down as you force your mouth onto his again. This time there’s no hesitation from either of you as his hands quickly find your waist. Pushing you further onto the cooler behind you, Soobin wastes no time in squeezing himself between your spread legs. “H-ah, been wanting to do this for so long”, he groans, and you sigh against his lips as his tongue finds yours.

Wait. Did he just say that he’s been wanting to do this? Then that would imply… All those lingering touches, the small grins, the quick glances.. Your mind was reeling with the newfound information and your hands quickly braced themselves on his shoulders as you pulled back for a short second. — Upon breaking apart from the kiss, Soobin looks at you, a flash of worry striking his features, almost as if he had done something wrong.

You quickly try to ease his nerves, “I…I’ve been wanting to do this too”, you quietly mumble, biting your lip as the color on your cheeks only rises. His tense face immediately relaxes as he lets out a short sigh of relief. “Oh thank god”, he murmurs, his hands gliding along your thighs as he pushes your pink uniform up. — “Wait”, your fingers around his wrists stop him and his eyes flit to yours with a hint of concern. “We can’t…I mean.. not here”, you whisper, throwing an anxious glance around the small storage room.

“You locked the entrance, right?” He wonders, head tilted to the side as he studies you intently. Slowly nodding, you’re still not entirely convinced. “Then we’re good, yeah?” He says in a somewhat smug voice, his fingers drawing small circles on the skin between your thighs, creeping higher with each passing second. You consider his words carefully, he did have a point, there were just the two of you here right now, and it was past working hours.

Oh who were you kidding? You’d had a crush on the guy for nearly three months now and here he was, openly asking for what you had been longing to do for so long. There was no way you’d pass him up. With a short nod you let him reconnect your lips as his fingers quickly move to glide across the already drenched fabric of your panties. You felt him smirk against your mouth as you squirmed beneath him.

“Fuck, how long have you been this wet for me?” He asks as his hand slips inside your underwear, index and middle finger circling your throbbing clit. You bite back a small whimper as your nails dig into his broad shoulders, tearing his pink uniform under their grasp. “Three months”, you breathe, and you immediately feel his hand stutter against you. “Fuck.” Is all he says before immediately shoving two fingers inside of your aching cunt, “we’d better change that.”

In one swift motion he wraps your legs around his waist, groaning as your hand trails down his chest to palm and grope him through his jeans. — It felt almost like a fever dream, having the guy you had fantasized about for so long right in front of you, his fingers knuckle-deep into your core as he drew lewd moans from you.

When he pulls himself free from his pants, you gulp as you take in the size of him. Sure you had expected him to be big, given his height, but this was… He quickly catches on to your hesitation as his lips part, “if you don’t want-” — “It’s fine”, you give him a reassuring smile which he reciprocates before lining himself up, only to be stopped by you once more.

“Do you have a condom?”

He freezes, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess his answer. A small silence falls over the two of you, the sounds of your heavy breaths filling the storage unit. Soobin clears his throat, awkwardly readjusting the grip on his cock as his gaze avoids yours. “Maybe we should..” he trails off but you don’t need to hear the rest in order to know what he was thinking. But come on, you had waited three months for this. You couldn’t just let the opportunity slip through your fingers just like that.

“No, it’s fine. You’ll just pull out, yeah?”

His eyes snap up to meet yours the second those words leave your lips. “Yeah.” He agrees, his free hand wrapping around your waist as he pulls you closer, the tip of his cock sliding against your folds, nudging your clit in a way that almost made you squeal. “I’ll pull out”, he mumbles, more to himself than you before slowly easing himself inside.

The stretch was near torturous and your nails practically tore his shirt in half as you braced yourself against him. “You okay?” He sounds almost alarmed but your quick nod makes him relax. — Once fully inside of you, he stays unmoving, littering you in soft kisses, trailing from your jaw down your neck and collarbone. His fingers twist at the small lace, neatly sewed into your pink uniform. “You look so pretty in this”, he sighs against your skin, inhaling the perfume you always used, the one that always seemed to get his mind to wander whenever you were around.

He moves slowly, his thrusts deliberate as his cock slides against every inch of you and you whine in ecstasy. The dull burn flaring within you was now replaced by an almost addicting sensation. “Fuck, you’ve really got to stop bending over the counter like that, anyone could see up your skirt”, he grunts, snapping his hips against yours, making your eyes roll back as your jaw slacks.

“R-Really?” You stammer, though you knew exactly what you were doing as you so often would purposefully lean forward enough to where you felt your clothes lift, hoping that he would see. Originally, it had been for your own pleasure, not thinking that Soobin was actually going to pay attention to your subtle movements. But he did, he picked up on every single one of them.

“Yeah”, he drawls, upping his pace as the hand around your waist pulls you impossibly closer. “God you don’t know how many times I’ve had to jack off in the bathroom to the thought of you.” — “Fuck, is that weird to say?” He wonders, and you shake your head, gasping as his thumb rubs against your clit. “N-Not at all”, you whine, thighs squeezing around his waist as you clenched on his cock, making his breath hitch.

“Mhn, I.. I do too”, you shyly admit, catching the smirk that etched its way to his face in a mere second as he pressed his lips to yours. “That’s so fucking hot”, he groans into your mouth. The kiss quickly grows sloppy and wet, his thrusts transitioning into uneven and jagged jerks of his hips. — “I won’t forgive myself if I don’t have you cumming on my cock.” He states, pulling your lip between his teeth as he refocuses his attention to his fingers on your clit.

Up until this point you had thought that this might as well all just have been one big dream. A big prank that your far too imaginative mind was trying to pull on you. But as your orgasm washes over you, your throbbing cunt clenching around Soobin’s cock, undoubtedly buried deep inside of you, you realize that this was most definitely not a dream. His name falls from your lips as your nails cause rippings to the pink fabric of his work uniform. Somewhere in the background you can hear him uttering small words of praise, the sound is muffled by the feeling of euphoria coursing through you like electric shockwaves.

With a small hiss, he pulls out, and your hand reaches for him before you have the chance to think twice. Wanting, no needing, to feel him between your fingers, your fingers that barely manage to wrap around his cock. You pay the wicked smirk on his face no mind as you stroke him to his high, letting him soil your work attire without as much as a second thought. Hot liquid landing on both your hand and stomach as Soobin groans into the juncture of your neck.

Once you’ve both regained your composure, he pulls back to look at you. From his dazed expression to the way his blonde hair stuck to his forehead, or his wet lips as they stretched into a grin, you found him to be more handsome than ever. — His gaze drops to your lips before flitting back up to your eyes, the tip of his ears turning pink as he clears his throat.

“So uh, think I can get your number?”

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#beomiracles ₊˚�� ᰔ #soobin x reader #soobin x you #soobin smut #binnie's dreams #Choi Soobin x reader #Choi Soobin x you #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin scenarios

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star--girls · 3 months ago

Text

| "Please be mine."

(part two)

PAIRING: BestFriend!BangChan x Afab!Reader

Genre: Fluff, crack, suggestive maybe

Warnings: Swearing, annnnnddd....idk. minors do not interact

a/n: sorry late post!

pt.1

pt.3

You call Chris again after taking a bath

"Heyy! Did i make you wait long? Sorry if i did! Hehe." You were sitting on your make-up table, wearing a towel to cover up your wet naked body. You take your blow dryer and plug it. You open it and start to blow dry your hair

"You blow drying?" Chris said while he tilts his head to the side with a smile "Miss the times i was the one blow drying your hair."

"Yeah, me too. I really do miss them."

Chris was just watching you blow dry your hair, loving that focused look on your face. He started to notice that your towel was slowly falling off.. "Fuck...Ahem– A-anyways, where are you going with your friends?" He says, trying his best to not look at your body in the screen.

You look at your phone and smile "We're going to that Thai Restaurant that i've been talking about, Mango Tree.

"Damn, isn't that place expensive as fuck?" He said, still trying his best to not look at your body, and just up at your face.

You notice your towel falling off, so you put it right back up before your chest gets exposed. "Yeah, yeah..I know. But Soyeon wanted to pay, so of course i'm going."

Chris sighs in relief as he watched you put the towel back up, not letting himself get distracted by your body. "Of course you'd go if someone else is paying." He chuckles

"Umm..Duhh?? Gosh, you know me too well." You finish drying your hair and take your skincare products.

"Yeah... I do know you well... very well." His eyes softened, proud of himself for knowing you well. "Well anyways, What are you going to wear to the fancy restaurant tonight?" He tilts his head to the side again

"That sundress you gave me before you left last month, i haven't worn it yet." You say while applying some cleanser in your face

"Oh, the one i gave you? Damn girl, you know how to make me feel special." He giggled, his cheeks slightly turning pink "I bet you're going to look gorgeous wearing it." He smiles warmly

"Of course, duh. I'm always beautiful." You raise your eyebrow at him and gave him a smug look, before chuckling

Chris laughed a bit too. "Fuck yeah? Of course you are. You're the most beautiful, pretty, cute, gorgeous, stunning, and beyond all of those!" He said with a smile, He was trying to see if he could make you blush.

You were just giggling, and giggling by yourself. But then you frown when you see him turn his camera off. "Open your cameraa!! I can't see your face,man!" You chuckle, tapping on your screen aggresively. "Come on...I miss your face..." You whisper to yourself

Chris laughed to himself as he looked at how you were tapping on the screen. "Calm down, baby. You might break your screen." He turned his camera back on and smirked at you "You miss my face that much huh..?"

Oops, you got caught. "Huh?!? I didn't say nothin'!" You try defend yourself by making up excuses. "I swear on my life!!"

Chris laughed at you, as you tried to defend yourself from him. "Oh yeah? Then why you tappin' the screen like you were dying without seeing my face. Hm?" He chuckled, obviously taking pleasure in teasing you.

"Ugh! Whatever, I'll go change clothes."

Chris just smiled at you, he really enjoyed and loved teasing you. But he wasn't ready to let you hang up yet. "Wait- Not yet, don't hang up!"

You giggle and look at him with a curious face "I won't? I'll just turn the camera awa–"

"No, I want to keep looking at you more." He cuts you off. He leaned back on the chair, his arms behind his head, so his chest muscles will look even more defined and toned.

"I....A-are you saying....you wanna see me change?-"

"Maybe i do." He said, looking a little devilish as he smirked. He's really enjoying teasing you right now

"E-excuse me, what?" You were speechless and shocked, your eyes and mouth were open wide.

Chris chuckled at your reaction. You were nervous so much that it was kind of cute to him. "Come ooooonn, baby. You don't want to give me a little tease, princess?"

"Shit...Um..." You were trying to think on what to decide. If you decline, he will be upset and disappointed, but if you agree... well.. "Ugh, fine..."

Chris smirked and chuckled. He was a bit shocked that you agreed so easily, but he was enjoying it. "Good..."

To be continued....

(part three soon!)

138 notes · View notes

gyuswhore · 2 years ago

Text

How to Win Hearts for Dummies (the answer is lattes and banana bread)

Idol!mingyu x makeup-artist!reader

genre: fluff, angst, one sided pining

warnings: slow burn, swearing, shitty bosses, some descriptions of anxiety and breakdowns, one sided pining, reader has issues opening up (lmk if there's anything else)

13.4k words (im sorry)

plot: This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

masterlist

(A/N): repost bc Tumblr wouldn’t show it in the tags!!! Thank you for clicking on this clonking my pants as I hit post ! I started working on this at the beginning of exam season and I’m posting it the night before my last exam 🥲 what a full circle moment. Also pls excuse any inconsistencies or grammatical errors, my beta reader, unlike me, actually cares ab her grades and is in the beginning of exam season and therefore will not be able to read through this monstrosity for a while lmao. Enjoy hehe

Edit: I’ve just realised how many mistakes and grammatical errors I’ve made throughout the fic, serves me right for proofreading at 3 AM after a stats exam. I’ll try to fix them all asap!!!

The camera goes off again with a distinct click. And again. And again. And again.

The camera had gone off innumerable times since Mingyu walked out in another themed ensemble, and you were there, watching, through all of it.

You watched as he kept switching positions, rotating his body and his head. Morphing his features into more variations of dazed and serious than you thought could ever exist.

Standing there, at the portable table behind the main setup, attempting to clean a lip brush that would be needed soon when the inevitable call for-

“Makeup over here! We’re taking 5”

You note your sluggish pace as you snap out of your daze and scrubbing harder with the removal cloth. Snapping your head down, hoping nobody noticed your incessant heart eyes, you realize you were in trouble now.

‘Y/n, you’ve been cleaning that brush since I left 10 minutes ago!’ The senior makeup artist snapped.

You finish up the brush in hand and quickly hand her what she needs, not before rummaging for the tiny pot of lip product you absent-mindedly packed away.

‘Sorry, really sorry’ you choke out before she leaves in her badly concealed irritated expression. You see her make a beeline for a waiting Mingyu, who adorably squats for the woman so she has better access.

This apprenticeship was taking a toll on your self control in the worst possible way. Walking in 8 months ago, a resignation from your corporate job and a dream in your pocket, you made an oath to stay focused on the goal at hand and to enjoy what you did for a living for once; makeup. Except, your still stuck as an apprentice with a mentor that has no inclination for your growth.

And you’re a little bit in love with your client.

It's not that you were overage (your mother begs to differ), but considering you were on your second big girl job and still no sign of a potential lover, the prospect was starting to weigh on your head. The first rattling experience was when one of your closest friends announced her engagement, your thoughts still stuck in a 19 year old you considered she was too young. She was not, in fact, 19, or too young, but a perfectly acceptable age to consider marriage with someone she loved, you had soon realized. You were never one for the dating scene, but you were always one to don your Dr. Love labcoat whenever an emotionally bruised friend would come seeking help. You were good at advice, but awfully bad at applying it yourself.

Coming into this job, surrounded by a plethora of beautiful people, your heart would be of stone if it weren’t to waver.

The gong of unattainability had struck the second you laid eyes on Mingyu, laughing at something Hoshi had shown him on the phone. There he was, hair and makeup-less, looking like he had just rolled out of bed (which he had), and beautiful as ever. Beginning this new chapter with a bang, only problem was that it turned into an 8 month shoot out. Having encountered a number of gorgeous people, you’d learned to appreciate their genetic lottery pull and move on. But never had a single look left you as breathless and unbeared as that one, fateful look at Mingyu. One of the team members was busy assuring you not to worry too much about the pandemonium in the dressing room, that everyone would handle it and you were only asked to observe and help with smaller things as instructed; for now. You weren’t listening too hard though.

You were now adjusted to the chaos that comeback season and 13 men plus staff in a microscopic dressing room brought about. But you will never forget how in the midst of your first rain of hell, Mingyu had asked you to pass his phone.

‘Please?’ He had said, and you slammed your hand with a force of a woman infatuated on the table behind you and (literally) breathed out the first thing you had ever said to him.

‘Here’

He smiled and gave you a quick ‘thanks’.

There was no coming back after he flashed you those irresistible canines, and to this day, you wonder what nation you saved in a previous life to be able to have him know your name, hear it roll off his tongue in his pretty voice as he asks you to fix his smudged eyeliner.

You sigh defeatedly before your mentor slash irritated makeup artist shoves her load back in your hands and instructs you to come inside to pack up. It’s become routine for you now, as you begin to pack up the bigger palettes and tools, handing a ready-to-go-home Junhui the pack of makeup wipes he asked for, zipping up bags and closing tubs of outfits. It's an organized chaos but one everybody has grown to work around.

Mingyu is done before you, as he removes his jewelry and begins to shrug off his jacket. You scramble to find the clothes he came in and his coat, pointedly ignoring the familiar scent of wood. He thanks you and shucks off the remainder of his clothing, he might be used to stripping in front of professional staff, but you look away regardless for your own sanity.

Helping the last stylists hang the final jacket, you grab your bag and get ready to leave in your own car. Mingyu has left, not before throwing a “you did well, thank you!” over his shoulder at the remaining people in the room and leaving for the honking car outside.

***

Your mashing bananas in a bowl at 12 AM when you start thinking. Impulsive baking sessions had become a norm since you started working with Seventeen, needing to keep yourself occupied to stop spiraling. Mingyu was a recurring topic (surprise surprise), but one that quickly faded when you begin to think about what the future holds for you. You start mashing the banana harder. You consider the idea that you can’t complain, being in a position some of the most well seasoned pros had difficulty reaching. Being a single young woman and being allowed so close to some of the most unattainable men was seen as near impossible. You’d like to think it was your skill that got you here but can never seem to fully rule out a processing error.

It’s hard, being stuck in the same place. Your apprenticeship should have ended 2 months ago, but even if it had, you’d still be doing the same thing. The senior artist trusts no-one but a select few to work on the boys for photoshoots, events, music videos. People like you are left to sanitize sponges and clean the fallout.

You crack an egg on the counter and it splits open entirely, falling on the floor, yolk and all. Your inability to grow stays within the idea that you can’t really do your artistry like you want.

And how you never learn to crack your eggs on the bowl.

***

Showing up on the Going Seventeen set, you rush to the dressing room way earlier than you should. Being completely honest, you’re really only rushing because you want to maneuvere yourself to do Mingyu’s makeup before somebody else snags him. This was one of the very few engagements where you were occasionally allowed to take charge on makeup. Not that it was required for the show much at all; intensity and occasion wise. Your rare (possible) moment to (maybe) come into Mingyu’s organic notice was an opportunity never to be dropped by you.

You help setting up everything on the counters as the boys begin to (loudly) file in the rooms. You see Mingyu walk in and move to ask him to sit down once he’s done discarding his coat. He was first in line and you ‘happened’ to be the first one ready to begin working.

‘Is the eye makeup heavy? I just got a sty removed and I don’t know if I should be putting anything on at all.’ He asks as he sits down and you ready your damp sponge.

‘Not really, just smoothing things out. It should be fine.’ you say as you begin to press the compact on his cheek.

Your not really sure why, because you’ve never been able to muster anything above brief replies when in contact with him, but something in you pushes you to keep talking.

‘I’m surprised they even asked for us, they rarely ever do’ you continue, heart pounding so hard you’re afraid he might hear it.

He breathes out a laugh ‘Yeah. They even started advertising the show on youtube and subway stations and stuff, I didn’t know until I saw someone talk about it online’

You smile at his response ‘Well, all of you work so hard, it's about time they pull this to a high scale production’

‘It's never really work if your having fun, we try to be ourselves on here’ He replies, still smiling slightly.

You’re damn near close to collapsing on the floor at this point. This is the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. You opt to smile in response as you start to concentrate on his eyebrows. The rest of his face is done far too soon as you zone out and do what you do best.

‘All done’ you announce as you pull away from his lips, trying not to have yoour gaze linger.

“Y/n! Can you start on Vernon if you're done?’, another artist calls from behind.

‘Yeah, he can come up!’ you reply as Mingyu (regretfully) walks towards hair.

Just because you sew your mouth shut with Mingyu doesn’t mean it applies for the rest of them, you’re quite friendly with all of them and Vernon does well to remind you as he sits down and quips a ‘hey bestieee’ in an elongated greeting.

You audibly laugh ‘That’s another word I’ll be hearing for the next month’

‘Regretfully so’ He feigns sympathy.

‘Be quiet and look up’ you say with a fond smile before you get started on him.

***

You sit on the floor in front of your television, trail mix on the coffee table as the movie plays as background noise for your thoughts - again.

There’s a smile on your face, but you dont notice as you think about the small talk you made with Mingyu today, wondering if it could become a regular occurrence if you learned to keep your heart and mind in check.

You were never one to stand up and take effort to do what was right for you, which is why you were talked into choosing Business Administration by your friend in highschool, who you never speak to now because she decided to ditch you for another group who were more inclined to shuttle themselves to liver failure by partying every last weekend in your entire college career. You were talked into applying to corporate jobs by your counsellors as you started looking for make-up courses, needing to abandon your dream for the second time when you landed a decent entry level desk job. It took years before you decided to choose yourself for once and made the big leap after multiple courses you had took on the side. Life was starting to look bright after getting hired here, but you’re not sure if you overrode a high or if you went back to your old zipped mouth state after you settled in. Never sure if you expected too much or if things really were as stagnant as they felt.

***

Overmanifestation can be a thing. You're not really sure how it works but you’re reaping what you’ve sowed right about now.

You’re currently standing in an offside corridor in a hotel lobby, clad in a pretty white floral dress, and a nervous, fidgety Mingyu standing in front of you.

'I know I'm asking you to do something difficult and I know it seems pointless because I'm not doing anything wrong either that you have to lie about it'

This was supposed to be a staycation with your friends for you to relax and get your mind off things. Your ticket to relaxation has become a nightmare.

'And I understand I'm being super unreasonable but I'm really trying to keep it on the down-low as we get to know each other'

You were waiting with your friends on the couches positively stuffing your faces with the complimentary chocolate bowl placed on the coffee table as a couple other friends checked you guys into your rooms. You were laughing and talking with your group, carefree and ready to have a week of well deserved rest.

That was the plan anyway. Until you see someone across the lobby, also in line at check in. He had an unmistakable toothy smile,and was hand in hand with a concealed brunette.

Your smile abruptly falls in disbelief as you feel your world halt around you.

The same hands come up to brush the hair out of the woman's face to place a kiss on her temple, smiling wide.

The nauseating feeling of ice going down your spine is becoming more and more apparent. You attempt to swallow the lump in your throat but it's like trying to swallow a brick. You lick your lips and attempt to look away but your eyes keep feeding on the picture you painted yourself in your worst nightmares. Realizing you're on the brink of possible hyperventilation, your friend drops her head and asks you if you're okay. You look up at her, not knowing what to say as you realize that nodding furiously will convince her.

Mingyu has a girlfriend.

Of course he would. What were you thinking? This man is one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, why on earth would he be single? You’re unhinged, you decide, for thinking you may have a chance, when the woman turns around and you see her in full. She’s gorgeous.

A part of you still wants to believe that you're officially past the point of sanity and that you've begun to see Mingyu in every tall man. The universe, however, is cruel. He pushes his head up and in your general direction, and locks eyes with you in unmistakable recognition.

He stops smiling.

So here you are listening to Mingyu asking you to keep this a secret from the company, to forget the woman waiting for him in the lobby.

You can only nod in slight motions as he goes on his rant to justify his oath to secrecy, managing a tight lipped smile as you miraculously find your voice, hoarse as it may be.

'Don't worry about it, I understand' - ouch - 'it's none of my business anyway. I'll keep my lips sealed, I promise'

'Thank you, thank you, thank you I appreciate it so much, you don't even know. I'll repay you soon I promise'

'No, please, it's not-'

'No, Y/n I will. You're being really good to me right now and I'm so grateful. I'm sorry for putting you through this while you're off from work and with friends. It's worth to me that your listening and understanding'

You're tired. You want nothing but for him to stop talking. So you smile again and shake your head.

'I'm sure your friends are waiting, I won't keep you. I'll see you soon though!'

And with that he leaves. Back to the lobby where you see him take the woman by hand once again. You watch again as they walk to the elevators, stepping in and disappearing when the doors close. You watch the floor number rise.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

You walk back to your laughing friends before you can see where they got off.

***

Retiring to your shared hotel room with Chaeyoung, you fall back first into the crisp sheets and mattress.

'Why're you so depressed dude, did Mingyu say something to you?' She asks, a slight line forming between her brows.

'I'm fine, I've been up since 5 today it's just fatigue hitting me right now' you reassure, like always. 'I might not go to dinner with you guys, might end up with my face in the soup at some point'

Chaeyoung hums. ‘Take the night off so you can gear up for the rest of the week. I'm letting you off for now but I expect full attendance for eveything else we do', finishing with a mocking stern look.

'Yes ma'am' you feign salute from the bed, mimicking her stern tone.

You've known Chaeyoung for quite a while now, meeting her in your last year of uni. Trusting her as you do, you were never fully able to fess up about your feelings for Mingyu. Fear of judgment wasn't the problem, but more so the strange feeling of shame that overcomes you when you think about talking about it with other people. It's quite beyond you, why you act this way. You loved your friends and you knew they would support you with everything, they'd proved it when you'd made one of the most difficult decisions of your life while leaving your job. But the idea of having the audacity to love someone who could never do the same seemed like a feat of embarrassment.

Who are you, y/n? Who are you to have foolish dreams of a girl in love? With someone clearly fit for all things greater than you?

Maybe this was a good thing, you thought, the weird feeling in your stomach returning. Maybe this was the universe telling you to give up and move on, a kind of rejection that keeps your dignity. This was nothing but a reality check, a sign from whatever wants best for you, to bring your attention back to what brought you to Mingyu in the first place.

***

You didn’t see Mingyu for the rest of the trip, which you were grateful for not knowing how you’d react if you had to see him so soon after, that.

Back massaged and head clearer than it had been for weeks, you feel more in control of your feelings and thoughts regarding your life. You hope the conversation with Mingyu was the last stressful thing you’d encounter for a while.

It’s almost comeback season, you realise as you see the new concept photos while scrolling on your couch at home. This meant insanely early mornings for weeks on end, but you had to push through for your own sake. You’d come out of multiple comebacks needing a brace for a month but you wouldn’t trade it for the world. Never realising the true meaning of learning through experience, you were enlightened as you entered this new, very hands on field. The concept looked interesting, hoping the scraps of makeup you’d be allowed to do would be fun for you.

That ended up being true when you were, for the first time, asked to do Hoshi’s full makeup for their first comeback broadcast.

Your stumped silence was short lived as you hastily oblige and get the chair ready for him. You’d looked at the demo sheets and face charts too much for someone who wasn’t actually going to be asked to do much, but you see it pay off as you finish his eyes and get started on the rest of his face. It was easy for you to zone out as Soonyoung had passed out not even 5 minutes in, having someone hold his face as you worked.

You felt your chest swell with an indesipherable feeling as you watched him get up with your mastery on his face; pride, was it? You were getting emotional for no reason. Your attention, however, is moved sharply when you hear someone tell Mingyu it was his turn, finding him plopped on your chair staring straight into nothingness as he’d just been rudely awoken from his nap. He doesn’t realise it’s you for a solid minute as he tried to remember his own name.

‘Oh, hello’ he says, sort of confused. ‘Sorry, just give me minute’, he mumbles as he rubs his eyes.

He stretches back onto his seat signalling he’s ready for you to get started. You trying not to feel too much in your stomach as you begin.

You’re powdering his forehead when he says “I know I already said this but I really appreciate what you’re doing”

You know he’s talking about the conversation at the hotel, you were hoping you could avoid it.

“I told you not to worry about it, honest.” You reply, and somehow manage to choke out “It makes me happy that you’re happy”

You can see him trying to fight a smile, “Thank you for saying that”.

You wanted to stab someone. But you opt for gently brushing a base colour across his eyes.

“Do any of us know her, by any chance?” You ask cautiously.

“I dont think so. We met through mutual friends at a Christmas dinner, we didn’t start talking till she had to bring me a bunch of papers I’d left at my mom’s that day.” his face depicts someone reminiscing a fond memory.

It was cute, how it seemed like fate was trying to bring them together. It would've been cuter if you weren’t in a one sided pining with one of the two lovers.

“Well, I hope it works out for the both of you”

No you don’t.

“I hope so too”

You don’t hope that at all.

You felt guilty, feeling all of this. Hated that this was your first response to him wanting to be happy. Never would you have imagined stooping this low, hoping his happiness doesn’t work out for your sake. You’d like to owe it this being your first real infatuation, but you can’t help but wonder if this was really what you thought.

You decided to focus on the good news for today, that you’re finally allowed to do your actual job. You can only hope this wasn’t a temporary advancement, allowing time to tell.

Things remained the same the following day, much to your absolute elation. You were done doing 4 people’s makeup and was just winding down to take a break, quite satisfied with yourself. You observed as the rest of the boys got their hair done and run around, half in their outfits. You stifle a snort as you watch Jeonghan hide Minghao’s socks in his pockets as the boy tried to find them to put his shoes on, the former continuing to sip on his coffee seemingly unaware.

“Y/n, have you seen my socks? The green ones with the leaves on it?” Hao inevitable asks you.

You’re forced to feign confusion when Jeonghan pokes his head behind him signalling you to keep up the charade. He continues to look and you’re just about to have mercy on the poor boy before a to-go cup of coffee is shoved in front of your face.

You look up at the person and it’s Mingyu extending his arm at you expectantly.

“Oh, I didn’t order anything” you start, thinking you’re clearing up a confusion.

“I know you didn’t, got one for you anyway.”

There’s a record screech in your brain as you absorb his words.

“Think of it as me trying to repay the favour”

Oh. I see.

You’re a little embarrassed thinking he’d get one for you in that way, not when he had someone waiting on him. You accept the cup and mumble a thank you as he unexpectedly plants himself on the couch next to you.

“I saw you drinking lattes a lot of the times, so I just got you that. Hope that’s okay”.

Your silent for a moment before replying “Yes!” a little bit too loudly, eyes widening a little realisng your lack of volume control.

He knows your coffee order.

“Yes,” you say again in a normal tone and a slight laugh to cover up your inability to read the room, “They’re my favourite actually”

Kim Mingyu knows you like latte’s. This wasn’t good for your delusional brain.

Your conversation is cut short when the boys are called for roll call before they can prepare for the actual stage. You watch him get up and leave to file into the overstuffed elevators, not before he throws you the most adorable wave you’ve ever seen. You can’t hold back your smile as you wave back and look down at the drink he got you before taking a sip.

***

As it turns out, you did makeup for the rest of their comeback season, and Mingyu, without fail, got you an iced latte every single day before leaving to go on stage.

You tried to get him to stop, but he was rooted in his position and you didn’t have it in you to say no to his pleading eyes. It was a re-charge for you, when you’d seen him break into a happy smile, prominent canines that you’d grown to adore. He’d done more than enough to ‘repay’ you for swearing to secrecy, and you felt like you too, should should repay him the balance.

So here you were, making banana bread in your kitchen again, careful to remember to crack your eggs on the rim of your mixing bowl instead of slamming them on the counter. You’re stirring the flour in when a classified devious thought occurs to you.

These past two weeks were pivotal for both you and Mingyu, daily coffee’s meant daily conversations, which meant getting to know one another more. You’d exchanged phone numbers in the midst of all of this, to which ensued the agenda of staying up till midnight talking to each other about the meaning of life.

Setting down the whisk, you pick up your phone and sent the text before you chickened out.

[You]: I have a surprise for you.

[You]: You wanna come over? It’s better enjoyed fresh lol

[Mingyu]: Ma’am? 👁👁

[Mingyu]: That sounds a whole lot like a booty call

[You]: *attachment*

[Mingyu]: IS THAT CAKE??

[Mingyu]: omw 😮‍💨

You send the location and set your phone down, a jittery feeling going through your entire body. There’s a spring in your step as you slide the loaf into the oven and set a timer. You turn around your kitchen island and register the pigsty that is your apartment. The girls were over the night before and you had done nothing to enlighten the aftermath, pillows strewn across the entire living room and snack wrappers in places you’re not sure how they landed.

By the time you’re done and spritzed the place with some of your nicer perfumes, your taking the loaf out of the oven and on a rack to cool.

Ever the punctual man, you hear the doorbell ring just as your taking your oven mitts off.

Hoping you’ve done enough to your apartment to save yourself from embarrassment, you collect yourself and open the door for him through your ringcam. He’s barely through when your rushing towards your doorway.

“Hi!”

“Hey,” he grunts as he tries to slip off his shoes.

“‘aight, where’s my cake?” he demands once he’s done giving you a quick hug.

You roll your eyes and usher him to the kitchen, “First of all, appreciate how excited you are to see me, and second, its banana bread not cake, sorry to burst your bubble”

He responds to your grumbling with an “Oh come on, you can't put freshly baked goods on the agenda and expect me to pay particular attention to anything else”.

He has his trademarked grin and cheesy stare out on display like its nobody’s business, you want to slap it off of him in the most loving way possible, but you settle with a tiny “shut up”.

“I brought warm coffee this time, thought it’d go better” He sets the to-go carrier on the kitchen counter, following you to where you were attempting to slice the still hot banana bread on a tray.

“Oh, that was a good idea” you say.

“Where’re your plates and forks?” he asks, pulling out the drawers and cabinets you signal to.

It all felt too domestic for your weak heart to handle. Not to say it didn’t warm you to the core how comfortable he felt in your space, you did, more than you’d care to admit. But he needed to tone it down before you required an organ transplant.

You were seated on the floor, butts parked on floor cushions, backs against the couch. The coffee table held all of your goods while you both argued on which movie to watch.

“I can’t believe you haven’t watched any of the Harry Potter movies! No, we’re watching philosopher’s stone, I don’t care!” You shout in disbelief, already typing it into the search bar on the TV.

“Philly-philo- bro I can’t even pronounce it why would I watch that?!” He yells back, snatching the remote from you.

You’re both a giggling, screaming mess on the floor as you keep trying to steal the remote from each other, not stopping until one of you bumps into the table and you almost spill hot coffee all over yourselves.

You decide to call a truce and pick another movie entirely.

Just as you’re pressing play, Mingyu takes a bite of the still (surprisingly) warm banana bread and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“This is so good” He says, his faced furrowed as he goes in for another bite. “Did you lace this with something, why is this so good?”

You’re biting back a snarky remark but you let it rip anyway; “It’s cuz these pretty hands made it”

You splay your hands out in front of your face, like your showing him your rings, fingers wiggling and a cheeky smile on your face.

He looks unimpressed as he scoffs. He swallows before saying: “At least you didn’t call the secret ingredient love or something”

“Excuse you, I’m pretty sure I heard you say that in some Gose episode” You remark.

He turns to you, all smug: “So your saying you watch Gose? Like, regularly?”

You immediately turn away from his taunting smirk, “Sometimes, if it shows up on my home page”

You take a sip of your latte before he asks you another sweat producing question.

“Oh, but you pay attention to me the most don’t you? Don’t you?”

He’s poking fun at you, you know that. But a paranoid part of you can’t help but think he’s onto you and your feelings.

So you say something maybe a little bit below the belt.

“You sure have a knack for seeking validation from the world when you have a partner already giving that to you”

The words tumble out of your mouth before you know it. In your defence, you're doing this for a greater cause, but it's still a relief when you see him comically gasp, hand to his diaphragm.

“Just because your alone in life, doesn’t mean you need to be salty about other people receiving actual love” He spits back.

Your sputtering trying to think of a response. Deserved.

He grabs a slice of the bread and shoves into your mouth to shut you up once and for all. You’re left chewing the mouthful and staring at him in shock.

He giggles and takes a sip of coffee, satisfied with himself. When he sets it down he opens his mouth to speak. Closes it again, like he re-evaluating, and finally decides to say something. He’s serious now.

“Ji Eun and I, decided it wasn’t gonna work out between us”.

Oh.

“Oh.”

He blows a raspberry and lets out a meek laugh.

“Yeah, oh. It’s whatever, it wasn’t meant to work out. Better sooner than later.”

You’re trying to find the words to reply or comfort him.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask him, being careful to not lace your voice with pity, but more neutral and open. “You don’t have to, obviously, but it might be better to talk about what’s bothering you”

He pauses for a moment before starting.

“She wasn’t sitting very well with the idea that she had to share me. Like at all. She wouldn’t say it but she’d get mildly infuriated when I’d blow the fans a kiss or something, or interacted with the staff too much. I was getting home quite late certain days during comeback season and I’d find her outside the dorm at like 11 PM. It was embarrassing when all of the other members would see her there, obviously upset and basically yelling at me for, for - for literally just doing my job.I guess all the smaller things just started piling and she couldn’t take it. I tried so hard to make sure she felt wanted and secure in the relationship but nothing felt like it was ever enough. She was evasive or confrontational all at the wrong times and it came to a point- its a horrible thought to have in a relationship - but I was terrified she’d do something rash and I’d wake up to my face on articles for some reason - again”

You recollected the past couple years when Mingyu was thrown around in the media for a new accusation seemingly everyday. You weren’t involved with anything regarding the industry back then, but you’d heard enough news to be aware of what was happening.

Your heart swelled with sadness as you heard him talk, he sounded like he was trying- trying hard to be good enough. All for a person who seemed to have their priorities set somewhere else.

“She was amazing; kind and happy and confident. She treated my parents with respect, she was best friends with my sister. I know we only lasted like 3 months but at some point I really considered that she could be the one. But then the problems started and I realized she was only becoming an added factor to stress and anxiety for me more than anything else.

“I liked her because she was so family oriented, and I thought that was what would fit me because I’m like that too. But, I guess I’m just a different kind of oriented? I don’t know. I have a job that’s both interpersonal and unpredictable. There’s days where I don’t wanna get up and do work but I still love it nonetheless. I guess she just expected me to have a predictable, stable 9 to 5. Home in time for dinner, not requiring interaction with too many people; basically everything I can’t be.”

He’s silent for a moment.

You start talking after a couple beats.

“I really hope you aren’t taking this like it’s your fault. She made a choice to put up with your work, knowing how it would be for the both you. You tried your best but she made you feel like your best wasn’t good enough. I dunno about you, but that sounds like a really problematic conclusion. If she truly cared for you and what you love, she would never have been this unsupportive or not understanding”.

He’s listening to you, his expression is blank but you can tell he’s absorbing your words.

“I’d like to think I had realized that. But being completely honest, I’m not really sure when my thoughts go back to me thinking I’m the problem all the time.”

He manages a smile, a wide one, as he looks up to make eye contact with you; “But I know it’ll take me some time to really start believing that it’s not entirely my fault. We just weren’t compatible, and that’s fine. We left on good terms, and I’m happy about that.”

You smile with him as he finishes, but your a little confused when he starts sliding closer and down the cushions.

He sets his head on your shoulder.

You may have shortcircuited right then and there.

“Is this okay?” he asks you quietly, attention finally diverted to the half played movie.

You realise he asked you a question and you have to answer.

“Yeah, this is fine” You breathe out, somehow, by the graces of God himself.

No, you weren’t fine at all. You felt like the universe had flipped a faulty switch, mixed up the scripts, lost the plot, something. But as you get used to the weight of Mingyu’s head on your shoulder, you pray it won’t come back to haunt you in another chapter.

***

Your routine became inverted in the sense that, what you once had to plan out so intricately, is unfolding with no effort from you at all.

You find that Mingyu waits for you to be done with somebody else so you can do his makeup, instead of sitting on another free chair. He’d come to you specifically to touch up his makeup instead of going to an artist he saw closer to him. He never forgot to get you a coffee whenever it was that he saw you.

Mingyu hadn’t slept over that night, instead leaving in his car despite the 1 AM drizzle and your insistence for him to stay until the pour recedes.

Maybe it was better for you that he hadn’t stayed that night. Something about how you grew so close ‘organically’ made you feel like this wasn’t all in your head, that he’s choosing to be your friend.

You’re handing him his clothes as he begins to change, using the excuse to whisper to him;

“I was gonna try a new brownie recipe tonight, if you’re free you can come over?”

“I think I have somewhere to be after this but I’m free after, How’s 6?”

So there you are, back in your kitchen folding chocolate chunks into your brownie batter while waiting for Mingyu to get here.

Your phone dings from the island and you check to see a message from Mingyu sending you what looked like a grocery list; pasta, oregano, garlic…

[Mingyu]: Tell me what you don’t have from this

[Mingyu]: I’m at the store rn hurry up

You send him a list of what you don’t have, realising he intended to have dinner with you too.

[Mingyu]: k thanks

[Mingyu]: be there in like an hour

There’s a warm feeling that’s swelling in your chest, that makes you wanna punch a wall because your so happy. You choose self control, mostly because this apartment is on a lease but also you’d probably break your knuckles trying to punch anything harder than a foam mat.

By the time Mingyu’s here, the brownies are in the oven and you’re almost done with the icing. He unpacks the groceries (and the warm lattes) he bought while you finish up, confirming that he was trying a new pasta recipe tonight. Setting the brownies and coffee down on your usual coffee table, you decide wait a couple hours before starting on making dinner, instead choosing to hear him ramble about an idol he met at an award show.

“So, we start talking before we’re ready to go up- you weren’t there you were working on wonwoo’s makeup- and he starts complimenting me and so obviously I start complimenting him back”

He’s waving his arms around, and setting positions with coasters on the table trying to explain the setting.

“He asks me if I have a sister and I’m like… yes? Which I should’ve realised where this was going because he then” - he pauses to take a deep breath - “this absolute asshat decides it’d be funny to ask me for her number because apparently ‘if you’re this hot, I’m sure any sibling you have is too’ BRO, WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU SAY THAT - how are laughing at this?!”

You calm yourself down for a second to clarify, “NO! It’s just hilarious how he thought that was okay to say”

You’re still still giggling in shock when Mingyu calms down, now also laughing incredulously.

“But actually though, please tell me you smacked him” you manage.

“I would have,” he grumbles “I got called to fix my hair cuz I ruined it or something”.

“Oh well, now you know who to avoid next time,” you say as you guide a bite of brownie into his mouth, “Forget about it now, eat sugar, it’ll help”

He chews a bit before swallowing, all while you’re watching him with an endeared smile on your face.

“Y’know, I really thought you didn’t like me when you first joined the team”

You pause mid sip of your coffee, brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“You never really talked me, did you? You were friendly with the rest of them but it just seemed like you never wanted to enter a room if you saw me there”

You’re looking at him in utter shock, this man was mistaking your avoidant (yet also pushy) teenage crush behaviour for dislike.

He’s looking at you expectantly, a little pout on his face.

“I never disliked you, why would you think that? I promise everything was a coincidence, it was nothing like that”

“Don’t get so defensive, kinda obvious you like me now if not before” He laughs at your panicked expression.

He meant platonic like.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like that though, I’ve been told I have a pretty serious resting bitch face, it’s gotten me in trouble before” she smile sheepishly.

“It’s fine, you made up for it with that first banana bread” He says before taking another bite of brownie, “Could use more chocolate chunks”

You snort before pushing him with a sock clad foot, “Appreciate me even giving them to you”

You fall back to the adjacent sofa.

It’s quiet for a moment. But you feel like something’s shifted in the air.

You watch as he brings his hand to the same foot, holding onto your ankles. He’s caressing the exposed skin with his fingers, moving them back and forth. His eyes are glued to yours, looking like he’s in a trance. You’re not sure how to register this new change in mood, suddenly feeling like you need to turn the aircon on during the bleak Seoul winter. Just as you're hoping you don’t start sweating, you feel his vice grip on your ankle pull your leg over with a sharp tug. You scream as you lose support of the sofa and fall back.

You sit up in shock to find him leaning with his elbows on the floor, cackling like madman.

“Mingyu, what the fuck?”

“You-” He stops to laugh again, “You should’ve seen your face, PLEASE, it was hilarious”.

You huff before getting up shoving his shoulder with your foot again, “You’ve been playing guest a little too long, maybe it’s time you get started on that pasta”

“Will I be blessed enough to be receiving her highness’s help?” He asks.

He looks like a dream, clad in his T-shirt because he claims he doesn’t get cold. Hands behind him on the floor to give him support as he stares up at you, smiling wide. He’s looking at you with eyes full of stars and glitter.

You muster up the courage to give him a nasty glare, to which he huffs at and gets up, “Such a meanie”.

It’s hard to conceal your smile as his back his turned, sachaying towards the kitchen. You want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

Your washing veggies in the sink when you turn around catch sight of his back as he stood at the kitchen island, sorting the rest of the ingredients. You get the same overwhelming feeling in your chest again, assuming you’re deluding yourself into thinking this is what life could be like with him. In less than 3 seconds, you’ve conjured a timeline of domestic routines, to wind down with him like this every evening.

You’re still lost in thought, still incessantly staring when he turns around and catches you in the act. He does the rude thing and snaps his fingers in front of your face to pull you out of your thoughts, “You okay?”

“Yeah” You say trying to gloss it over while busying yourself trying to find your cutting board.

“Are you sure? Do you wanna sit down at the island and watch me instead. You don’t have to help -”

“Pick a knife, and shut up dingus, it’s fine”

Once your both done eating and cleaning up, Mingyu hugs you goodbye, not before asking if you’d be free for lunch next week before he got busy the following month. You quickly agree, setting a date and time, bidding your (reluctant) farewells.

***

Once back in your apartment you realize how you can’t clean up to distract yourself because Mingyu took it upon himself to clear the space with you before he left. You sigh loudly and retire into your bedroom where you don’t have to think about how empty your living room is.

Changing into your pajamas and putting a headband on, you don’t even feel like turning your music on to do your night routine. You double cleanse, tone, serum, acid and moisturise your face with added purposefulness, taking note of the crevices of your nose and the neglected bottom of your chin. Taking extra time to make sure all of the foam is out of your skin before drying your face with a tissue.

You look at your fed skin in the mirror, and feel a weird surge of tears well in your eyes. Before they can fall you slam your bathroom cabinet to busy yourself to find your melatonin gummies, shoving them in your mouth before switching off the bathroom light and retiring to your bedroom.

Slipping the headband off and sliding into bed, you’re still chewing your gummies to a paste in your mouth. Trying not to notice how heavy you’re breathing you try to find your white noise machine, the one you found advertised for infants, and turn it on before grabbing your book to read for a few extra minutes.

Your staring at the pages like you found them to be blank. You’re phone dings next to you, signalling a notification.

Picking it up you find your mental health app sending you a daily reminder.

You’re allowed to feel your emotions.

***

Winter had run its course as you find yourself in April. You never really liked the cold, having been more sensitive to a gust of wind than the average joe, you were better suited to sitting with an aircon instead of being unable to move in the middle of Korea’s January cold rush. But alas, the cherries are blossoming and your fingers have defrosted.

That isn’t what’s on your mind right now though, as you’re standing in a Sephora, arms crossed and shoulders tense. You loved shopping for makeup, but you mostly chose to do it online unless you really had to otherwise. Parking yourself in the perfume section with the scents mixing together a cocktail of nosehair doom, you really wish you’d worn a face mask. Not to mention the migraine inducing coloured lights and mainstream pop playing in the background (you swear they’ve been playing Side to Side by Ariana Grande on loop since you got here).

These were all, however, peripheral observations for you, as you stare in absolute pneumonic shock at the number written on the price tag of the perfume you’re looking at.

Now, Mingyu is a man of class, high maintenance if you will. You’re well aware he likes to spoil himself, because he has a bank account to back it up.

Your bank account is definitely full and secure, but not enough for you to justify dropping what seems like half of its contents to something only one of the five senses can experience.

Mingyu mentioned in passing how he wanted this perfume a while ago, and knowing that he hadn’t ordered it for himself just yet, you decide to be the amazing friend that you are and surprise him for his birthday.

You may be regretting that right now, but you tentatively pick up the blue, crystalline bottle and spritz a bit on a paper strip before taking a whiff. It smelled good, that’s for sure, and it suited him too. So when the saleslady came to offer assistance, after you excused the last three, you decide you’re going to do this for him.

“Yes, could I have this in the box please?”

Walking back to your car you feel a bount of jitter run through you,

Oh, he’s gonna freak out when he sees this.

He did, in fact, freak when he saw it, and his reaction made you want to give him all of the good things in the world if you could see him like this all the time.

He’s smiling ear to ear and speaking in that high pitched voice that he gets when he’s excited. He’s thanking you over and over again, smoothing the box over in his hands repeatedly, looking at the ‘from: y/n :p’ with hearts in his eyes.

“I’m gonna save this for the rest of my life” he says, with determination and a goofy grin.

You snort at the declaration, “Sure, bud”

“I’m serious. What, you wanna bet?” he replies, taking a sip of his, latte, which you proudly credit yourself for swerving him over from Americano’s.

He insisted on going out to eat at this fancy French place a day before his actual birthday as he’d be busy on the day of, but it was risky for him to be seen eating out alone with a young woman at such a fancy place. You settled for a nicer traditional Korean restaurant, that allowed you to book a room away from possible prying eyes and one that you were both comfortable with. You decided to wait till you were back in the car with your post dinner coffee’s to give him his present.

“I’m giving you 3 months before that bottle’s dry to the dregs” You affirmed, “You smell like you empty half a bottle of something off your dresser everyday anyways”

You said it as an insult, but jokes on you because you loved the way he smelled.

“Fine, I’m gonna use this so carefully I’m not replacing it for at least a year”

“A year? What happened to the rest of your life?” you refute.

“I have you for that, don’t I”

What the fuckity fuck.

He’d turned to you, leaning on the headrest, that signature cheesy look; like he was in love or something. Voice dropping a couple octaves as he said it, laced with something defined and strong - enough for it to feel like the weight of an elephant had dropped on your chest.

You gather yourself after looking at him for a couple seconds, jaw unhinged and forgotten on the floor of his car. You chose to grab your cardigan that was neatly folded on the dash, and astral project it to his face across the seat. He’s laughing so hard there’s tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He falls forward and you see strands of his hair fall to his face, he’d been growing them out.

“Shut up” you grumble in your seat, annoyed at how easy it was for him to send your heart through and beyond your chest.

He’s still giggling like a school girl, and you cave and give him a hint of a smile.

“There it iiiis” He announces, grabbing your face and smushing your cheeks together.

For a moment, he stops to look at you like this, like he’s contemplating. For one, brain rattling, organ exploding, microsecond, you think he might even kiss you.

Instead, he headbutts you slightly rubbing his head swiftly before letting go.

“I might need to wash my hands, I think I got your makeup on me” He mumbles, looking at his hands like a child with mud soaked palms.

“Serves you right, you buffoon,” You remark as you pull out your trusty travel pack of makeup wipes.

Yanking one out of the tab, you pull his hand over and try to wipe the remnants of foundation off, starting from the heel up to each individual finger. It’s silent as you concentrate on getting it all off both hands, he was wearing black tonight and knowing him he’d rub his hand over his pants and get beige foundation all over. You knew because you’d seen him do it one too many times.

“All done” you quip, looking up and catching his stare. He’s smooth to slowly look away and retract his open hands from your lap about 5 seconds after it became noticeable.

You busy yourself by attempting to stash away the wipes to throw out later, closing the pack of wipes and shoving them back into your bag.

He’s watching you do all of this, his stare is burning holes into the side of your head. He’s desperate to say something, but you’re not sure if you want to hear.

“Let’s go back to my place. We’ll stick a candle into a sheet brownie and call it your birthday cake. Oh, we can pick up ice cream too!”, You say, costuming your voice to sound unaffected by his vibe.

And so you did stick a candle in the fresh batch of brownies you both made at 11PM, two hours before his actual birthday. Sitting across from each other on the counter, Mingyu has his eyes closed shut, hands clasped, wearing a ridiculously coloured ‘BIRTHDAY BOY’ headband you found somewhere deep in your drawers.

“You’re gonna get wax on the brownies and they're gonna be inedible, hurry up” You groan, after everytime it seems like he’s done, he clenches his eyes shut again as he remembers another thing he has to wish for.

You’re not actually annoyed, he looks the cutest he’s ever looked, but you would appreciate non waxed brownies.

When he’s finally done, he blows out the singular candle and you clap lightly, “yay!”

You’re pulling out the candle and grabbing forks, dumping a couple scoops of ice cream on before you two start eating straight out of the pan.

Its a collection of groans as you both collapse on your couch, regretting eating all that so soon after dinner. He changed out of his dinner outfit to a T-shirt and pajama pants, he’d started keeping a set of clothes in his car when it started to become routine for him to spend regular evenings after work at your place.

You’re in your own unicorn pajama’s, slumped over on the arm rest slightly. You feel Mingyu scooch over to put his head in your lap, claiming he was “closing his eyes for a minute”.

You knew how lightning fast he passes out, so not even 5 minutes later you start to hear his light snores. As much as you want to wake him up to move him to the bed, you know he can’t stay the night. His birthday meant he had to be with the boys, and needing to head out early tomorrow.

So you give him 10 more minutes, fingers tracing the shape of his features, in his soft hair massaging his head with your nails slightly. He had a little pout on his face as he slept. Things had been hectic for him lately, having a comeback later in the month and the plethora of music and variety shows to follow.

Mingyu had been writing lyrics on the kitchen island one day, sputtering random words as you quipped in rhymes of your own without context, stirring the pot of soup on the hob at the same time.

One particular rhyme you spew out catches him off guard and he barks out a laugh at the ridiculous combination.

“I should put you on song credits for this”

“What do you think my producer name could be?”

He thinks for a second, “Banana bread sounds stupid, um, how’s brownie?”

“Cute, and serious enough” you agree, “I’ll be expecting to see my name on that album, sir”

Snapping out of your thoughts, you turn your attention back to the sleeping man curled up in your lap. You wonder if you could fall asleep on the couch too, keep him here with you for the night. Be a little selfish. It’d be nice, making waffles for breakfast when morning comes. But he needed to be at the dorm in the morning, the boys knew where he was but managers that’d come pouring in at 7 AM sharp, did not. And it was best kept that way. The last thing Mingyu wanted, you knew, was people getting the wrong idea. The thought stung a little bit, but you knew not to mix your hopes with what reality was giving you.

So you gather the courage to slowly reign him back from dreamland.

***

Your sitting with Mingyu and Seungkwan on the couches outside the dressing rooms, a little bit before they have to go to perform. You were done with your agenda and was waiting for them to start filing out before beginning to pack up.

“No, because why does he get to eat all the good stuff right out the oven and we don’t, that’s not fair” Seungkwan complained loudy to you, a mildly offended look on his face.

“Stop being such a complain bot, you’re never happy if I have nice things” Mingyu retorts, increasingly nasty looks being exchanged for an argument about freshly baked goods.

“Oh, I’m the hater?! Let me jog your memory, who was the one sulking and shoving me around when Y/n wouldn’t let you-”

Mingyu had jumped up and pulled Seungkwan into a headlock, his poor Americano half flying across the hall as he yells out in disarray.

“YAH!” cued with more noises of struggle and muffled threats.

You chose to embrace the violence by sitting in your seat and laughing as Vernon recorded their antics from the doorway inside eventually circing them for his supposed cinematic effect, catered for the inevitable weverse post that was to come.

Cut to them apologizing and cleaning up the mess of coffee and disregard.

You decide to be nice and attempt to make peace by reassuring Seungkwan, “Come over after you’re done promoting this week, I’ll make up for all the bread and cookies you missed out on”

“If you've finished with your escort duties Y/n, could you please come in and do your day job?”

The voice came from the doorway of the dressing room, your senior makeup artist standing there with her usual mildly inconvenienced expression. It took you a minute to fully understand what she meant by that sentence, your body completely still.

“Offended? What, like I’m wrong?”

You were no stranger to insulting behaviour in work places, but they’d always been revolving around your actual job description. People who didn’t like you knew they had to be smart on how they treated you regardles.

This was different. This felt like you were projected back in time to your solemn middle school days to mean girls taunting you about your spongebob socks, except multiply that by about a thousand.

You feel your stomach begin to churn as that nauseous feeling of shame began to settle itself into your veins.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there but when she slightly raises her voice; “Are you getting up or not?” your hands actively begin to tremble the slightest amount.

You’re making moves to get up by puting your coffee cup down, not knowing what to do except follow commands.

Your interrupted by a voice from behind; “She’s coming in, give us a minute”

Mingyu’s standing there, his expression stoic as Seungkwan and Vernon looked as stunned as you felt. You don’t register it in the moment, but the people in the hall, venue staff and those for other artists have also silenced, watching the scene unfold.

Her lips are in a tight line, her expression remaining irritated as she steps back inside the room.

You realise you need to do something to diffuse the escalated situation. Letting out a breathy laugh, you get up and tell them that you’ll be going inside, trying to keep your expression pleasant and unaffected, not waiting before turning around to spare them the burden of a response. People get yelled at everyday, and this is no different. You aren’t gonna be the one to make a scene out of a regular occurrence.

You know what's coming when you get inside, she’s waiting as she pulls you aside.

“Your behavior has been quite concerning recently, let me remind you of your place here and what you were hired to do. You've been dilly dallying with people who aren't even your friends, and its quite funny that you’d think they are. It's time to wake up from wasting your time making heart eyes at men who are way out of your league. I won't tolerate any more nonsense from you, and trust I won’t be this nice or forgiving the next time this happens”

You choose to nod your head.

“That’s another thing, use your own words. Don’t think other people are gonna be there all the time to speak for you” She spits out, her professional front slowly eroding the more she spoke.

“Yes, ma’am” You say, hoarse voice.

“Louder, next time”, she stalks out as majority of the people in the room also begin to leave for the filming downstairs.

You’re left standing awkwardly in front of the racks of clothes, trying to digest what just happened to you. Looking around the room, you try to figure out what your supposed to do.

Clothes on the couches, eyeshadow brushes on the floor. There’s a torn sponge resting underneath one of the chairs, a couple styrofoam boxes left on the tables from lunch.

There’s so much for you to do, you arent sure how you thought you had time to sit down and chat. But you’re not sure where to begin either. The room is a mess of smells and colours even without the buzzing noise of people getting ready. Tears begin to form as you try to navigate what you’re supposed to do, realising you can’t possibly find a starting point for any of this mess. Before you have time to think of anything else, a hand is holding onto your wrist, small and soft.

It’s Yoona, another one of the makeup artists.

“Y/n, I think it’s best if you go home, it’s been tiring.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her. Just trust me. Go home you’ll feel alot better”

She notices you hesitate for a second, and goes in to give you a hug.

It felt nice, to be hugged by a friend. For some reason, it didn’t feel like she was pitying you, her expression and aura reassuring you that you didn’t have to stand here alone.

“Whatever happened today shouldn't have happened, but you don’t need to think about that right now. Go home and do nice things for yourself, we’ll figure it out later. You have my number, give me a text once you get home. We can go out later if you want, when I get off work, to get your mind off things”

You’re not sure how you’re holding back the waterpark that has become of your tearducts as you hear those words from an unsuspecting friend, you nod with a smile. You feel a little more calm.

You can’t tell if you care enough to consider the consequences of your senior finding out how you’re doubling or nothing on your already posed humiliation. But the only thing you can think of right now is your bed and the ceiling you’d stare burn holes into.

So you, for the first time in a while, chose to choose yourself by picking up your satchel and leaving the chaos behind you as you walk to your car.

***

Just because you were brave where it mattered most doesn’t mean you weren’t allowed to cry.

You had come home, shot Yoona a brief text, and promptly began to sob the absolute Nile into your sheets.

You had never cried like this before, loud wracked sobs coming from a place in your chest you had locked away during a time you couldn’t even remember. You’re breathing after every choked cry is a sputtered intake of life, only to spit it back out as you let out another sob of what sounds like agony. There’s nothing in your head, nothing but the words that were spoken to you as echoes of your own mind. Hypocritical of you to hate them when the same words circled in your head like a mantra every cursed, unfortunate day. She had done you a favour, by spitting out the truth you’d stewed, chewed and kept in your mouth ever since you got here. This was a you problem, to believe that you were capable of things beyond your bracket. You were told by the universe, screamed at by the world, that this was never meant for you, and you chose to ignore it. You chose to be stubborn. You brought this misery upon yourself.

Once you’ve disposed your body weight of tears and snot and burden, you’re left to stare at your innocent sheets now stained with mascara and your sorrows. You crawl into your covers and rest your muscles for a few seconds, head empty. You aren’t sure when you drift off, but you're glad that you do.

You don’t dream for once.

***

You wake up feeling like you drank a gallon of water and went to sleep. Your eyes, nose and throat feel like they’ve been over watered yet dry at the same time. You don’t realise what’s really arising pangs of irritancy in your brain once you figure out the consistent sound is a door bell. You’re doorbell, of the house that you live in.

You’re slow to push yourself up, realising your slept in your day clothes. It’s dark out but you're not sure what time it is, and quite frankly, you can’t say you care enough to check. You need to silence your doorbell first, which can only be done by silencing whatever hell sent individual was playing drums on the button outside.

It’s a record screech in your brain as you peer through your peephole and realise who the aforementioned hell sent individual was.

Mingyu was outside your door.

You don’t realise you look like you crawled out of a sewer till it’s too late and you’ve already opened the door through muscle memory. Mingyu was always welcome in your space.

He was in casual clothes, his hair pushed back from the guessed hands that ran through it, but he was still in stage his stage makeup.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asks, eyes a little wide, expression cautious.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go then, you weren’t answering your phone for anyone and you told Yoona you were home but you weren’t opening the door, i was worried. Sorry I ringed it so much I probably should’ve assumed-”

He stops to look at you, and it’s like realizes something before he finally says; “Just wanted to make sure you were okay, I’ll see you around. I’ll leave you alone”

“Wait,” you croak out, licking your lips, conscious of your morning voice, “Can you stay? Please? If you can.”

He stops to look at you, expression changing from sheepish to defensive.

“No! I mean, yes. Yes. I’ll stay. I’ll stay for as long as you want”

You let him in as he slips off his shoes and you lead him to the living room. His presence in the familiar place seems like it last happened eras ago, when he was only here maybe a week prior.

“You know where everything is, I’ll be back gimme like 5 minutes”

You’re scared to look at yourself in your bathroom mirror, so you don’t, and choose to scrub your face looking down at your sink. You change into a sweatshirt and trouser loungewear set, deciding to save your dignity a little bit further as you brush your hair and clip it back with a claw clip.

You take a breath before entering the living room again.

He’s sitting on the floor in your usual place, two steaming mugs on the coffee table, the tabs hanging out of the cup. He made you tea.

You sit down next to him, not really prepared for what you should be saying.

“How long has she been speaking to you like that?” He asks you quietly.

“She was always kinda itchy and uptight and stuff but, it was never like this” You say.

“Regardless, whatever that was, it was, wrong, uncalled for, all of those things” He says, sputtering a little bit.

He stops and sighs. It’s silect for a minute before he turns in his seat to face you, grabbing your folded legs and pulling you to face him too.

“Yoona heard everything she said to you after you went in, she heard it all. And she knows about some other stuff too. If you think, even for a second, that I’m not your friend, I might actually think there’s something wrong with you.

“If everything we’ve been through this past, almost a year, doesn’t amount to us at least being friends then I don’t know what it means to have one at all. You’re the first person in a while I’ve been able to be this open with. You know me better than most people, you’ve seen me at my worst and at my best. I’ve let you read me all you want, because I know I can be an open book if it’s you. I trust you more than I can trust myself sometimes, and I really wish you would trust me too.”

You’re watching him as he says all of this, you look up to make eye contact a couple times, and he’s looking at you everytime you lift your head.

“I do trust you. Probably more than anyone else. It’s myself I don’t trust. It’s hard for me to open up, I’m scared I’m gonna say something that’ll scare you away. And, I just thought maybe she was right today, that I need to realise that it can’t be that way between us, I have a job to do”

“What can’t be between us?”

“I like you, Mingyu. Like, I’m basically in love with you and have been since I fucking met you. I couldn’t believe that you could possibly be friends with someone like me, a confused, all over the place airhead who can’t tell right from left sometimes, forget you ever liking me. All that happened is that we became friends and I thought that this was as far as fate was gonna push us. All today told me was that … that was an overextension too. It was a wake up call that I can’t have everything in life. Things were going too well for us and I was letting myself think it could stay that way forever. I’m sorry for being this way, I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable and out of place. This is the last thing you’d want to hear from a friend and I’m sorry I’m putting you in this situation right now and that you had to go through that today-”

You don’t finish what your saying because you're interrupted. Interrupted by arms pulling you forward and into Mingyu in front of you.

Your both sitting in your living room at 3 AM, on the floor in front of your sofa like you both have so many times. Except now, Mingyu is holding you in his arms, and kissing you so delicately it hurts.

It’s warm, like getting into bed after a long day, the scent of home and security engulfing you as you begin to forget about the qualms of life.

He’s moving his lips slowly, with care and a feeling so overflowing you can’t describe.

He lets go slowly and rests his forehead against yours, his arms are around you tight, legs wrapped around your entire body so you can't escape - physically or mentally.

“You dumbass” You hear him say.

“I love you,Y/n. More than anything. And I need you to know that you don’t have to hide. If you think your thoughts are a burden then I want to carry it for you. I want you to realise you’re not alone. I want you to stop pushing me away. Everytime I want to do something nice for you, you try to push the effort to something else, everytime I try to take care of you, you have this look that makes me think you feel guilty for taking up my time or something. Everytime I think you’re about to ask me to stay the night, you remind me I have priorities and I should go, even though I know you want me to stay with you. I want you to stop caring so much for how other people feel and realise you can demand the same from the universe too. You deserve love and to be treated with care. You need to let people do that for you, love.”

Your looking at him now, your turn to have stars in your eyes.

He loves you.

And you feel it. You feel it in his words, in his eyes, in the kisses he’s leaving on your face, in his arms that are wrapped around you, ready to shield you from the world.

You don’t say anything as you fall into his chest, head on shoulder, relaxed body in the cage he’s made for you. You close your eyes as the tears are burning down your face. Except, this time they’re because your relieved.

You both got up from the uncomfortable floor and moved to your bed, still tangled within each other as you clarified everything else.

You found out that majority of the people who heard it were very upset at the situation, but didn’t know how to approach or confront her.

Seungkwan almost bust a blood vessel after he had digested what had happened, disbelief and threats on his tongue as he refused to get touched up by her during filming, apparently making a point to walk to somebody else. Seungcheol was thinking of trying to bring up the problem to management, considering how Mingyu too was distracted all the way home.

“The rest of them have gotten quite protective of you too, I think. It’s not like I shut up about you”

Apparently the only reason you were asked to start taking charge on makeup was because some of the other senior artists pressured your mentor to stop restricting you. It made you feel a little more secure that it wasn’t just you that felt pushed down.

She didn’t like that you were doing so well, considering it meant she was wrong about you and your abilities. It hurt her ego a little bit that people stopped preferring her to do their makeup or their touchups, how they wouldn’t interact with her the same way.

“Alot coming from a middle aged, married woman, attention seeking like a child” Mingyu added, scoffing with a sour face as he nuzzled into the crown of your head.

“The boys really like you by the way, they’ve been rooting for us since forever” He says, and your heart swells unimaginably so; you felt loved, so so loved.

You scooch up to plant a kiss on the underside of his chin and then one on his lips.

“That makes me happy”

“I’m happy that you’re happy. You deserve to be happy, everyday” He smooches you on the face again. “Oh, and don’t worry about that stinky face I’ll take care of her”

You laugh at the determination in his voice, but you wanted to clarify something.

“Please, let me handle her myself. I’ll ask for help if she’s stubborn but I wanna try by myself first”

“That was hot”

You push his chest away as you bark out a laugh at the random comment, hiding you face, by turning the other way.

He battles that by pull you back into his chest and continuing his atics

“What I can’t call my girlfriend hot. You’re hot. Your the sexiest motherfucker I’ve ever seen” smooch “You’re beautiful” and again “amazing” and again “gorgeous spectacular-”

You don’t fall asleep until the sun has well made its way up the sky, taking the executive decision to sleep in till way past lunch and maybe even take a nap afterwards.

You don’t care how it goes, because your happy just being with him.

***

You met with Yoona a couple days later at a cafe.

“Seungcheol asked us if we were facing the same kind of behaviour from her too. And everyone told him she was stuck up and rude and stuff. He said he wanted to bring it up to management but it didn’t really concern him directly so they wouldn’t listen. He told us to do so ourselves and we thought about it, but we’re gonna need to tell them about that too”

You nod your head as you listen to her speak, it was making sense.

“I dont mind going up to management at all and talking about it. I get that the rest of the stuff is a little too tame to be considered, which sucks because she shouldn’t be talking to us like that at all”

“Mhm, and I was thinking we could vouch for you on how she was restraining you for almost a year. Basically not letting you do your job. That’d be a another thing for them to think about”

“Yeah. Let’s do it asap, how’s this Monday?”

“Perfect, I’ll add everyone to a group chat and let them know”

And go up to management you did, who were surprisingly understanding. Apparently having received multiple reports and even videos of the most recent incident to act as proof. It was working out for all of you, and it proved to stay that way as they responded with a promise to shift her to a different department.

You had gone home that day feeling fulfilled and relieved. Mingyu, a man with spectacular timing had also proceeded to send you a text as a distraction,

[Mingyu]: Kwan wants to come over

[Mingyu]: something about croissants

[Mingyu]: Should he text you ab it?

[You]: yeah ofc

[You]: I’ll order the butter

[You]: you tell him to text me lol

Two nights ago felt like it happened last year with all the unimaginable advances deciding to happen within the past 48 hours. Right now you were more excited for the company you were about to recieve, more concerned with making sure you made the best batch of croissants Seungkwan ever did see.

***

You were in the car with Mingyu outside the company building, waiting until the clock struck 9 to go inside.

Today was the last day you’d think about this, being called up for a face to face meeting with the staff member, so she could formally apologise. The team had planned a dinner tonight, to celebrate the end of her ‘wicked reign’ as Yoona described it.

You were finding friends everywhere, ones that were always there, pulling through for each other as you yourself navigated a new direction of thinking for yourself. You were learning to walk past your anxiety ridden desire to draw lines with everyone, as you took the first step with the dinner tonight. It would be fun for you, and a bond you’d begin to build.

You learned that you weren’t delusional anymore, and that Mingyu did love you the same. It had only been a week or so, but one of the happiest weeks of your life, despite everything. He was teaching you more lessons than he thought he was.

Mingyu squeezes your hand from the driver’s side as it was past 9, “Let’s go?”

“Lets go”

***

Mingyu’s way too enthusiastic as soon as he wakes up, indulging you in a morning (afternoon) makeout session, claiming he doesn’t care for you morning breath.

“Well I do!” you exclaim, pushing him off with a giggle “About your morning breath, stinky”

He clutches his chest in dramatic offense, “How could you? I thought you loved me”

You respond my projecting a cushion to his face.

“Do you want pancakes or eggs for breakfast?” You ask, legs hanging over the bed.

Mingyu looks up, a wicked glint in his eye, and you immediately know he’s going to say something of no help.

“I want you for breakfast” He says, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you back in bed.

“MINGYU!”

Needless to say, all was well.

#seventeen #carat #svt #svt fluff #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen fluff #mingyu #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #mingyu fic #mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu #svt x reader #em.writes

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