#the way their hand on wraps around three of his fingers

[xinganhao]

🫂 older brother!mingyu vs. boyfriend!wonwoo.

anon → "could you please maybe do a text au of older brother! Mingyu and brother's best friend - and boyfriend - Wonwoo?"

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: cussing, sibling dynamics, wonwoo and mingyu are best friends! best read in order + headcanons under the cut.

🫂 the three times mingyu almost caught you (and the one time he did) .ᐟ

(1)

wonwoo likes to think he's a pretty rational guy. he follows rules. he does everything by the book. he treats people well, and he's a good friend. mingyu could attest. they've been best friends for years, after all. except— well, there might be one rule that wonwoo has bended just a teensy, tiny bit.

he's breaking it now as the two of you hold hands underneath the café table. you're doing your own thing with your free hand, but the other remains firmly grasped by wonwoo's. he never thought he'd be the clingy type, honestly. it just felt so out of character for somebody like him. and yet here he is, pouting ever so slightly whenever you try to pull away.

"i need to turn the page, baby," you say exasperatedly, gesturing to the book balanced precariously in front of you.

"i'll turn it for you," he says immediately, reaching out to do exactly that. "just let me know when you need me to."

"you're insane."

he pouts harder. you sigh.

minutes later, though, you're wrenching your hand away like wonwoo's touch has burned you. his whine of babyyy is on the tip of his tongue, but he chokes on the word when he sees the reason for your sudden distance: mingyu, bounding in to the café.

"there you are!" he cries to wonwoo. "watchu doin' with this bighead?"

you flip your older brother off. "tutoring," you say without missing a beat. "because unlike you, wonwoo has more than one functioning brain cell."

as the two of you bicker a bit more, wonwoo tries to rearrange his expression into something more neutral. it's all he can do to hide the way he's already missing the feeling of your fingers slotted in the spaces of his.

(2)

if somebody told a younger wonwoo that he would one day be using emoticons and emojis for someone, that younger wonwoo would've laughed his ass off. today's wonwoo can only hang his head in slight shame.

it came easily, but it also came in part because you used to ask 'are you mad at me? 🥺' when he would use his usual textspeak on you. wonwoo was more than happy to start adapting to your typing habits in a bid to ease your mind.

he's on safari, looking up the appropriate emoticon to send as a reaction to your latest selfie— he's torn between (ღ˘⌣˘ღ) and ヽ(♡‿♡)ノ, which may look the same, but he swears there are nuances— when he hears mingyu's amused voice mumble, "what the hell?"

"jesus christ!"

wonwoo's exclamation is paired with the most over-the-top reaction in the world: tossing his phone halfway across the room. mingyu doubles over in laughter as wonwoo glares up at his best friend, who'd been looking over his shoulder.

"yah, don't sneak up on me like that," wonwoo hisses, the tips of his ears going red.

"alright, mr. japanese kaomojis dot com," mingyu teases. he begins laughing harder at his own joke.

wonwoo smacks mingyu upside on the head before going to retrieve his phone. the screen protector has the ghost of a crack on it, but it's a small price to pay.

at least mingyu hadn't peeked the selfie of you making a kissy face for wonwoo.

(3)

"you should probably go soon," you say delicately, nudging wonwoo's head with the heel of your palm.

he lets out a low whine of protest. despite being significantly bigger than you, he's the one draped over you; his face buried in your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist.

the two of you are lounging on your living room couch. your parents— and your pesky older brother— all had plans elsewhere, giving you and wonwoo some freedom.

"you hate me," your boyfriend groans against the front of your shirt.

"they'll be here any minute."

"so i'll stay for thirty seconds more, then."

it's never just seconds more with wonwoo, but you've never been one to deny him. the thirty seconds spin in to three minutes, then seven, then—

the unmistakable sound of a car pulling into the driveway has wonwoo's head snapping up.

"shit," you both say at the same time.

wonwoo scrambles to disentangle from you. "is it—"

"mingyu," you confirm, having grown accustomed to the different sounds that would indicate who was coming home. your eyes are frantic as you wave wonwoo off. "go, go, go!"

he stumbles forward, then backward, like he's not sure where to go.

"my bedroom window!" you hiss, and wonwoo practically bolts up the stairs two steps at a time. just as he gets to the landing of the second floor, mingyu saunters in through the front door.

"were you talking to someone?" your brother asks.

"yeah," you say, schooling your reaction into one of nonchalance. "myself."

"get some help, weirdo."

"how about you—"

your biting retort is cut short by the distant sound of a distant crash. both you and mingyu look towards the general direction of the interruption.

"the hell?" mingyu grouses. you feel like your heart is in your throat as your brother heads for the front door to check.

a frazzled looking wonwoo is out on the porch.

"hey," wonwoo breathes to mingyu. "i, uh, came to see you. knocked over one of your pots while i was walking up, though."

mingyu's eyebrows raise. "why? forgot your glasses or something?"

your eyes catch on wonwoo's spectacles, resting at the foot of the couch. while mingyu's back is still turned, you grab them and shove them into your pocket.

"yeah, forgot 'em at home," wonwoo lies. he's not even looking at you as mingyu lets him in.

"you're in luck," a none the wiser mingyu says. "i literally just got home. otherwise, you would've needed to kill time with the world's biggest loser."

right, you think. like that isn't exactly what wonwoo had just been doing.

(4)

mingyu hadn't meant to find out. really. he was just going to be an annoying older brother— barge into your room, stand there for absolutely no reason, then leave the door open behind him. except when he goes to check, you're already asleep.

he notices that you've crashed atop your covers. that draws a derisive snort of laughter from him. "dumbass," he mumbles to himself. he's known you for all your life, and you're the type to complain about some phantom fever if you didn't have a blanket in your sleep.

he goes to pull your comforter over you, only to freeze midway.

your phone is angled at you, propped up against the wall. it seems like you'd fallen asleep on video call.

and, on the other end of the line is none other than wonwoo.

wonwoo is fast asleep, too. mingyu recognizes the other man's bedroom, sees the way that wonwoo is already dressed for bed. everything just seems to click, then. because everything else is excusable, negligible. but this? the intimacy of this, the sheer familiarity it entails?

mingyu feels like he's intruding. he probably is.

briefly, he considers screaming in your ear until both you and wonwoo are awake. he wants to see what kind of explanation the two of you can come up with on the spot. it'd be pretty funny, he thinks.

instead, he tucks your blanket over your shoulders, taking extra care to not wake you. he'll let you pretend for one more day, he decides with a slight shake of his head.

on his way out of your bedroom, mingyu closes the door for once.

[lnfours]

🍰 happy birthday!! i love your writing so much ♡ can i request for #2 + #12 from prompt list three? it's missing lando hours for me and him being clingy just gets me in the feels :")

thank u nonnie!! 🥹🥹 i hope you enjoy!! <33

prompt #2- when they're a big clingy baby who's cold on the outside but all pouty with you prompt #12- "i like the way you uplift me"

jordan's birthday sleepover!

the music in the house was loud, everyone talking loudly to be able to hear their conversations. you had found niran and ethan when you went to make another drink, stopping to talk with them in the kitchen.

little did you know, your boyfriend was currently scoping the house looking for you. he was tired and ready to go, the only thing on his mind was the idea of cuddling up next to you in bed and falling asleep.

but of course, he needed to find you in order to do that.

you were mid conversation when a pair of arms wrapped around your middle, "hey, baby."

you smiled, leaning into his touch as you tilted your head back to meet his eyes, not noticing the glances the other two boys shared. they had never seen this side of lando, the real side that not one everyone got to see. the side that showed off how he really was, a softie who was obsessed with you, not just their slightly intimidating boss.

"hey," you smiled, "sorry, i meant to come find you, but i ran into niran and ethan."

lando smiled softly at his friends, "i see that," his curls were tickling your cheek and you ignored the way he squeezed your middle a little bit tighter. the other two boys had found themselves in their own conversation, prompting lando to lean in closer to your ear to whisper softly, "can we go?"

you nodded, turning around in his arms. you noticed the one unruly curl that had fallen out of place, fingers moving to brush it back, "yeah, we can go,"

he smiled, taking the cup from your hands before replacing it with his own hand. he turned to his friends, "we're heading out, see you later!"

"see you, mate!"

"have fun you two!"

he was practically dragging you out of the house, you trailing behind him as you waved goodbye to some familiar faces. he unlocked the car once you were both outside, opening the passenger side door for you. you stood on your tiptoes, kissing him as a silent 'thank you' before climbing in.

the drive back home was silent other than the music softly playing through the speakers.

his voice was soft as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, "i guess i didn't realize it until now, but i like the way you uplift me. like how you make me feel, how you're always there."

you smiled, bringing the back of his hand up to your lips, "i love you, lan,"

"i love you more, baby."

[beefcakekinard]

[special thanks to james @louisferrignojr for the idea]

There's buzzing in his ear.

Tommy slaps his hand onto his bedside table and drags it across the top in search of his phone. He finds it – his eyes are too blurry from sleep to see the time or the caller ID, but the dark outside tells him it's ass o'clock, and the only reason to be getting a call is an emergency. He hopes he swipes the right way to accept and brings the phone up to his ear.

"H'llo?" he asks, or tries to, with how his mouth feels glued shut. There's panting on the other end, something- some wet sound.

"Hey, Tommy."

Evan's voice wakes him up faster than any call from the station would.

"E- Buck? Are you okay?"

There's choked laughter on the other end, a sigh. "Mmm, I'm real good, just- just right, in fact." His voice is low, dragging on the syllables. He cuts himself off with a moan.

Oh.

Tommy tries to rub the sleep from his eyes. "I'm gonna go."

"What," Evan goads, "don't you miss- miss the way I, I sound when you fuck me?" Evan’s breath hitches in Tommy's ear. "This is, isn't the piece of you I w-wanted to keep but – ah-" Evan cuts himself off. The next few seconds have Tommy digging his fingers into his own thigh to the sound of Evan's breathing.

"Do, do you think I sh-should have-" Evan's voice breaks, Tommy's fingers ache, "should have put your cock in the box I s-sent Eddie over with earlier?"

Then it clicks.

That stupid clone-a-willy, sitting as a gag gift in the back of Evan's closet until three months ago. When Evan started getting curious about taking more than one cock at a time. When Evan, grinning wickedly, said hold that thought and dove off his bed. It made Tommy laugh at the time. He's not laughing now.

"Buck-"

"You don't call me that."

The vehemence is unexpected, but followed by more heavy breathing. There's a squelch in the background that Tommy can place, now, and he's going to leave bruises on his own leg if he grips any tighter. He focuses on it, the pain, purposefully dragging his attention away from how his cock aches in a decidedly different way.

Evan moans – satisfied, the way he does, did, when Tommy really focused in on his prostate. "You- god, Tommy, you feel so good."

Tommy can feel his resolve weakening like it's a physical thing. "Are you- have you been smoking, or-"

Evan laughs and Tommy feels it slip down his spine. "God. I had- had a couple drinks, dad. Or- sorry, daddy."

Tommy's resolve is all but a memory. He shoves his hand into his boxers and wraps his hand around his cock. It's a little unpleasantly dry, the friction dragging just a little too uncomfortably, but now that he has himself in hand, he doesn't have anywhere near the willpower to pull away, even for just a moment.

"Oh," Evan groans, and the sound is like the lick of a flame in Tommy's gut. "You- you touching yourself, daddy? Remembering what it, fuck, feels like to fuck me?"

Tommy squeezes his hand, tight, tighter, like the memory of the clutch of Evan's body around him. He takes long, hard pulls of his cock, squeezing himself at the tip to help slick the way little by little. It makes him think of how much Evan always leaks – the firehose, he always joked – like there's so much of him to give he's just welling up with it.

"What are you doing? You bouncing on it?" he asks, a man possessed. "Or are you greedy? Holding me to your prostate, using me to make yourself feel good?"

"Fuck," Evan cries out. His breathing gets sharper, shallower, faster. "Daddy, please-"

Tommy's hand races itself up and down his dick and his blood thrums in time with the sounds spilling from Evan's mouth into his ear. "Yeah, yeah, come on, you can get there, come on Evan-"

Evan whines and it vanishes into a groan as he comes, Tommy knows he's coming, and knowing that he brought Evan there has him grunting into his phone's microphone, has him spilling against his fist, into his boxers. Pleasure has never felt so sharp-edged.

Tommy breathes into the phone and relishes the sound of Evan doing the same. The moment stretches, bends the way it always does this time of night. He opens his mouth to speak.

The line clicks dead.

Tommy's left in the dark, his hand in his boxers, spunk drying on his skin.

He throws his phone to the floor.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

hii love! i just read your clingy so u distance yourself fic for the bazillion time and i cried again no surprise🥹 I just wanted to say i love your works so much and would live to request for an angst oneshot with brother bsf chan? basically reader has been pining for chan for a few years but she never got the courage to tell chan cause she thinks she isn’t good enough for chan. Then afterwards basically chan got a girlfriend who hated her and basically influenced chan to stop hanging out with her which he listened to and told the reader which the reader told him that his girlfriend wasn’t loyal but he thought she was sabotaging his relationship and so they ended off on bad terms but turns out a few weeks later he caught his girlfriend cheating and went back to the reader? sorry if it is kinda long but i rlly need a oneshot like this to read when i just need some angst i really live and admire your works so id be elated if you did my request. thank you and lots of love❤️

my first piece since I went on a mini little baby hiatus. and i had a lot of joy writing this. so i hope you enjoy <3!!!

Brothers Bsf Chan x Fem!Reader (angst/fluff)

6.8k words

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You didn’t know when it started. Was it a simple touch? A brush of a hand or an accidental graze of fingers? Or was it one of those lazy Friday nights where Chan would crack jokes to you and his best friend- your older brother Jisung- while you three were watching movies in the house you grew up in. Or did it stem back all the way to those days where you would chase after Chan and Jisung on the playground, down your neighborhood streets- crying out for them to wait for you. Those cries stopped when Chan would reach his hand out to bring you along.

Maybe it was a combination of all of those things, those things you had tried so hard to forget because it could only lead to heartbreak. Falling in love with your brother’s best friend was no easy feat for anyone. Let alone when you were falling for someone like Chan, who was so hard to fall out of love with. Maybe even more so for you since he would always be in your life. Him and Jisung were nearly joined at the hip, which made it even harder to hide your pining for him. You wouldn’t dare love out loud, but it was starting to whisper through the cracks of your resolve.

You were unconditionally in love with everything about Chan. 

That's how it was for years, and how you intended it to be for as long as allowed. You spent countless nights staring at your ceiling, wondering if he could ever see you the way that you saw him. You were sure things were only platonic between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but linger on the memories of certain looks, certain gestures that you couldn’t delude yourself into believing happened between friends. 

Things started to change when Chan began dating someone new. 

Duri. Her name was Duri, and the first time you met her, you knew she was the type to turn heads. She had a smile that could light up a room and a confidence you could only dream of. Standing next to her, you felt small, like a background character in Chan’s life story. A girl who captured Chan’s attention so easily. A girl who wrapped him up in her life so easily that you knew you were to be forgotten. He was smitten and her words flowed like the river of the smoothest molasses. She could easily convince Chan, he didn’t need you. Because she didn’t like you.

You weren’t sure why, but it was obvious. And because she didn’t like you, her feelings towards Jisung weren’t all that different, it seemed. And slowly you felt like Chan was making his way out of your life.

“Ji, why isn’t Chris here?” You loved the way his name sounded when you said it. Not many people around you called him Chris, so it felt special to call him that. He seemed to enjoy it as well, not ever asking you to conform to societal norms.

“He’s probably just busy, Y/N-ie…I’m sure he’ll come back around.” Jisung said one day as you guys sat on the couch, scrolling through movies. It was the first Friday movie Chan had missed. And even if it was the first time he had missed it, you knew it would be a regular occurrence.

In all honesty, at first, you tried to like Duri. She was with Chan, after all, and you thought that maybe you could be friends. That maybe if you could convince yourself to like her then the pain of not being the one that Chan loved would ease.. But the more you saw her, the more you felt her sharp, indirect glances, the way she dismissed you with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She made you feel invisible, as if you were only tolerated because you were Jisung’s sister. Even if she just barely tolerated the latter.

Over time, you saw the changes in Chan too. He became distant, no longer the easygoing guy who’d spend hours with you and your brother. He was still polite, still kind, but he was pulling away, bit by bit. You told yourself it was just a phase, that he’d come around once things settled down with Duri.

But then, one night, things came to a head.

You, Jisung, and Chan had made plans to meet at your favorite café—just a casual hangout, like old times. But when Chan showed up with his girlfriend by his side, something was off. His smile was forced, his laughs hollow. He barely met your eyes, and when you spoke, and even then  it was like he wasn’t really listening. To the point that Jisung even pointed it out. Every time you spoke, Duri happened to speak at the same time. Every time a question was directed at you, Duri somehow changed the conversation. You felt small and insignificant and made your way home early. You couldn’t stand to sit there and see the man you were so down bad for with his significant other. Duri had sat close to him, her hand always somewhere on his arm or shoulder, marking her territory in the subtlest way, in a way that caused an anger that wasn’t so subtle. 

But even then after leaving you couldn’t shake the ache in your chest. You sat down on a bench outside of a convenience store by your home, trying to sort out your feelings. 

You okay? I’ll be heading home soon. We went out to drink. 

You quickly type out a reply to Jisung, your fingers shaking as you realized just how cold it was. Just as you were about to get up to leave a pale hand reached out to you with a warm drink. 

You looked up to see a guy with dark and prominent eyebrows, and a little birthmark on his nose. 

“You seemed cold. Its…” He looked at the can. “Mocha flavored.” He handed it back out to you and smiled softly. 

“Thank you.” You said with a small bow of your head, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtful gesture. 

“You live in the neighborhood right? Your brother…looks like a squirrel?” The man’s voice was soft and shy, like he thought he was talking too much.

“Oh! You’re our new neighbor? I’m Han Y/N.” You said with a flourished bow.

“Park Sunghoon. Nice to meet you…” He shuffled awkwardly. “Would you like me to wait before I walk home…I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No! It’s fine, I'm not uncomfortable. You can walk home with me.” You say quietly. “Maybe it’ll be nice to not feel lonely.”

As you made your way back home with Sunghoon you had a weird feeling in your chest. You thought maybe you were just trying to sort your feelings, but it was more of an intuitive sense. 

Then you got a text from your brother.

I’m coming home. Duri tried to make a move on me and I’m not trying to get into it with Chan while she is here.

You blinked at the text, nodding when your voice registered Sunghoon asking if you were okay.

That was that odd feeling…

You didn’t know if it was selfish to feel happy that Duri was a tool, but you did. You didn’t want Chan to get hurt so you decided to go talk to him. Giving a message on behalf of Jisung, who thought maybe Chan would listen better if it was coming from a girl

“Hey, can I talk to you?” you asked, your voice soft but determined, as you walked up to him outside of his job a few days later.

“Yeah, of course,” he replied, looking a bit surprised. He followed you to a quieter part of the park, away from prying eyes. “Is everything okay? Jisung hasn’t texted me in a couple of days…"

You took a breath, feeling the words tangle on the tip of your tongue. “Chris…I just…I feel like you’re not around as much anymore. I get that you’re with Duri, but…it’s like you’re pulling away from me and Jisung. My brother is too scared to say anything, but he feels just as bad, if not worse than I do.”

He frowned, looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry if it feels that way,” he said finally, but not much emotion in his voice. “But…I need to be there for Duri. She’s… she doesn’t feel comfortable with me hanging out so much with, you know…” He trailed off, not meeting your eyes.

Your heart sank, a cold dread washing over you. “With me, you mean?”

He hesitated, but the silence was all the confirmation you needed. “She…doesn’t get why I’m so close with you. And I don’t want her to feel insecure, so I…I think it’s best if we… keep some distance. Just for now.”

You stared at him, feeling a surge of hurt and anger. “Chris, she’s manipulating you!” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “She’s making you feel guilty for caring about people who were here long before she was. Because she knows those people will pinpoint, that she’s a manipulative cheater!”

He looked at you, a flash of anger in his eyes at the words. “You don’t know her like I do,” he snapped.

You flinched at the venom in his voice. He had never snapped at you and you could feel tears spring to your eyes.

“She tried to make a move on Ji…” You said quietly. “And don’t try and say my brother is a liar, Chris,  because you know he’s not.”

Chan gave a sarcastic chuckle. “She already told me that Y/N. She was drunk. It was nothing more than that.”

“Drunk actions are sober thought Chris!” You shot back.

“Oh, so the first time you ever got drunk and confessed your feelings for me was a sober thought?”

You felt your body freeze and you blinked at Chan with wide eyes. You blacked out the first time you had ever drank and didn’t touch anything since. You never knew you had admitted to liking Chan.

“So it’s true then? You actually love me?” Chan let out a large sigh. “Frankly, it’s not fair for you to accuse her of things that aren’t true just because you put me on a pedestal. Your feelings for me aren’t my responsibility Y/N. This…this just feels like you’re trying to come between us because of some childish jealousy. She’s my girlfriend, and I trust her more than I trust someone who hasn’t been honest to me for years.”

You felt like you’d been slapped. The words cut deeper than anything you’d expected, leaving you struggling for air. “That’s not…that’s not what I’m doing, Chan. I just…I don’t want to see you get hurt.” You tried to say back. “My feelings have nothing to do with this I’m coming to you as a friend-”

“Friends don’t feel that way about each other Y/N! Once you cross that line friendship can’t be used as a label. Do you ever think that Duri might be acting this way because you absolutely suck at hiding your feelings?!” His voice was sharper than ever and you could feel a sad squeeze in your heart. “So deal with the fact that I’m going to put my girlfriend first- regardless of what I feel for you.” There was the slightest hesitation and falter in his face at his last words, but you were too upset to decipher what exactly that meant. “ I’m done with this conversation. I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He said in a soft yet defeated voice, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and speechless.

The next few weeks were met with silence.  Jisung asked what had happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him. You kept your pain buried, letting it fester in the corners of your mind. Chan had felt terrible for yelling at you, and had come over to apologize with extra snacks for your guys Friday night movie, but to his surprise, it was only Jisung who was there. 

“Where is Y/N?” Chan asked, setting down your favorite candy and chips on the reclining chair you always claimed. He looked around the corner to see if you were in your room. Your door was open and he walked in, looking at the little polaroids littered across your room on various walls and flat surfaces. He looked at your books and plushies with a soft smile. 

“She’s working overtime tonight. Do you want to watch a Marvel or DC movie?” Jisung called from the living room. Chan’s brow furrowed. He knew the company you worked for closed early on Fridays, all employees getting off early. Something he had realized after observing you for so long. 

“Marvel…” Chan called out, closing the door behind himself.

As suspected you weren’t working overtime. 

Rather as time passed, you found comfort in unexpected places. One of those places was the attractive man that one night, your neighbor Sunghoon. Who, much to your surprise, shared your interests and understood your silence without question. He became your confidant, your quiet escape from the heartache Chan had left behind.

“He’s probably over at my house right now with Jisung.” You had mumbled as you cuddled up on his side. Also, much to your surprise, Sunghoon was a great cuddle buddy. What was even better is that he wanted nothing in return, nor were there any ill intentions letting you grow close to him in an emotional and physical way. He had confided in you that a deeper intimacy was something he couldn’t ever see himself liking, which was why he was set on settling down alone, and that he wasn’t much of a physical person to begin with, but with you he found himself not minding the soft physicality much at all. 

“Like we’re twin flames right.” You had joked, that day, holding out your pinky. He had nodded, locking pinkies with yours. 

“You’re right, but I am more than sure he won’t think to come over her-”

The doorbell rang and you sprung up from your position on the couch as Sunghoon made his way to the door. 

“Well speak of the devil…” He mumbled. 

Chan stood at the doorway of Jisung’s new neighbor, delivery food in his hand. He looked at the bag and considered the weight of the bag.

Maybe a couple having date night?

“Hello?” A tall and undeniably attractive man stood at the door. 

Damn…wow uh-

“Oh, hey! I think your delivery was sent to my friend’s house. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was here...” The man looked at Chan with a blank look. 

Are kids these days given supplements or something…why is he so majestic looking…

“Oh, thank you.” He said , bowing and grabbing the food.

Before the door was shut, Chan could’ve sworn he noticed a pair of familiar shoes, but disregarded it, making his way back to Jisung’s.

As more time passed, you found yourself missing Chan rather than getting over him. 

“Is it strange, Sungie?” you asked while you were building a puzzle with him one evening- another Friday. “That I’m absolutely pissed, and heartbroken, but I want nothing more than to see him? And I can’t think of anything other than I miss him?”

Sunghoon thought for a moment and then spoke softly. “No, it’s not strange at all. Rather, it’d be strange if you didn’t. Sometimes, love clings to us hardest when we’re hurting the most. It's like every part of you is aching for the one person who can make it better—even if they’re the one who hurt you. Missing him doesn’t make you weak; it just means he’s still a part of your heart. Sometimes, loving someone means feeling everything all at once—the anger, the heartbreak, and that unstoppable longing. It’s okay to feel it all."

You were at your house, and Sunghoon was over since he had become a regular visitor, after Jisung befriended him and then finally pieced together where you were going every Friday and other odd days of the week when you first heard the news. At first he had assumed you and Sunghoon were a thing until you both quickly shot down that notion by informing Jisung that relationships and love were not Sunghoon’s cup of tea.

But since he now knew that wasn’t the case, and had long since known the truth since your first and last drunk outing he thought you might want to know.

“They broke up. Strange enough, Chan didn’t seem all that upset—I mean, he did seem upset, but you think you’d be more upset when you break up, you know?” Jisung rambled, barely pausing for breath. “Instead, he was, like, really calm, which made no sense to me. I feel like I’d be freaking out, or, like, super sad, or anxious, or angry. How can you just be indifferent to a breakup with someone you thought was going to be the love of your life? It’s like those characters in anime—”

You tuned out Jisung’s voice, the news sinking in like stones in your stomach as you laid your head against Sunghoon’s side as he read the ingredients on an air freshener bottle while he waited for Jisung to finish warming up food. 

Chan and Duri had broken up. Your heart was a tangled mess of relief and pain, of memories you hadn’t let yourself fully process. After all those months, he was free—but what did it mean now? What did any of it mean when he’d already chosen her once?

As Jisung continued his rapid-fire monologue, you watched to the two people who had been a distraction these past few weeks: him and Sunghoon. Sunghoon, in a more practical way since he knew the depths of your doubts and worries, and easily fit into the spot of your platonic soulmate and best friend. It seemed he was more versed on the Chan-sized hole in your heart than even you were, and you were glad you now had him to walk these roads with you.

Eventually Jisung came back to the living room with dinner, and you were soon enough immersed into the activities of the evening. 

You were unaware what was about to go down when the knock at the door came, Jisung springing up to answer it, his laughter echoing down the hall as he let someone in. The air around you shifted, growing thicker, familiar, and before you even turned around, you knew who was standing there. 

You had known him long enough to sense when the man you loved was in the room. His presence filled it quickly enough, his gaze sweeping over the space, lingering a little too long on you and Sunghoon, who seemed to be molded together perfectly, Sunghoon’s arm lazily resting on your leg.

Jisung shot you an awkward glance before mumbling something about getting snacks from the store. He and Sunghoon exchanged a glance, and, with a silent nod Sunghoon got up, and they left, closing the door behind them. You were left alone with Chan in the thick silence that followed, the quiet pressing down around you.

Chan’s expression was tense, guarded, and yet, behind his eyes, you saw a trace of vulnerability. He took a hesitant step toward you, his voice soft. “Y/N…”

You met his gaze, pain simmering just beneath the surface. “What are you doing here?”

He took a deep breath, guilt etched into the lines of his face. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice cracking slightly. “I should have listened to you. I didn’t… I couldn’t see it. I was so focused on Duri that I didn’t see what was right in front of me. She wasn’t loyal. I caught her cheating, and I realized just how wrong I was and how right you and Jisung were.”

His words landed between you, each one a mix of relief and ache that clawed at your heart. But you couldn’t ignore the questions tumbling through your mind—the doubts that held you back from even entertaining the hope you’d once felt. You folded your arms, steadying yourself as you looked away.

“Chan, I don’t even know what to say to you. It’s not just about her or your breakup,” you said, voice low.

The older boy flinched at your words. 

“Chan…” He mumbled. You had rarely ever spoken his name aloud like that before. So rarely he couldn’t even remember the last time you did, and he didn’t even recognize your voice when you said it. “I messed up horribly…didn’t I?”

 “You didn’t just choose her.” You started. “You looked me in the eyes and didn’t believe me. You accused me of saying things because of personal feelings. Then went on to accuse me of lying to you because I never confessed my feelings- even though apparently I did and you just omitted the truth of what I said when I blacked out as if that's not also a form of dishonesty. You thought I was trying to ruin your happiness, like I’d sabotage your relationship out of jealousy. Are you serious, Chan?”

He winced again, his hand reaching toward you as if he wanted to touch you but was too afraid. “I know, Y/N, and I hate that I did that to you. I was wrong. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I just… I needed you to know that I truly am am sorry. I didn’t think I had hurt you that badly and it was foolish.”

The hurt that had sat quietly in your heart surged to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, you murmured, “So what? You’re here now because you need a rebound? You want someone to feel close to because she’s gone?”

Chan’s face fell, confusion and hurt flickering across his features. “What? No, Y/N, it’s not like that at all. You’re not some replacement or… or backup. You’ve never been that to me, ever.”

“Then what am I, Chan?” You shook your head, frustration and sorrow mingling together. “Because if I was the first one you come to- not even your best friend-” You said referring to your brother. “Than there has to be reason behind that. Let me guess, you feel something for me?” 

Chan swallowed and you knew his answer when you saw the look in his brown eyes. You let out and exasperated sigh and tried to hold back your tears, but couldn’t so you looked at the ground instead.

“If you really felt this way—if you really cared about me or dare I even say loved me…then why did you pick her? Why now, after you’ve been with her all this time? Am I supposed to believe that just because she’s out of the picture, you’ve suddenly realized what you want?” Your voice was sad and defeated and you let your tears fall. “If so that's really really mean.” You whined sadly.

His eyes widened, and he shook his head emphatically. “No, it’s not because of that. Y/N, I was so stupid. I’ve spent these past few weeks… I didn’t even realize how much I missed you until I lost you. I can’t just go back to how things were, but I know I want you in my life. I don’t want to lose you.”

He paused until you looked up at him, his heart shattering even more at the glossiness behind your sad eyes. “It’s not that Y/N-ie not at all. Sometimes you really just don’t know what you’ve had until you lost it.

But something about his gaze shifted as he glanced back toward the door where Jisung and Sunghoon had left. His mouth pressed into a thin line, his brows drawn together in a dark, unreadable expression. “Guess I’ve already been replaced though, huh?” He said quietly.

You felt your stomach twist at his words, your tears drying almost immediately with the thought of where this was heading. “Replaced? What are you even talking about?”

“Your neighbor,” he said bitterly, albeit soft; the label sharp on his tongue. “You and him. I came here to tell you how much I’ve messed things up, only to see you with him. I guess it didn’t take long for you to move on.”

The accusation in his voice stung, leaving you feeling exposed. You bit back the urge to yell, to let out the anger that had simmered for so long. You knew it brought some validity to his earlier statement, him being jealous of Sunghoon, but God did you sometimes want to smack sense into him.

 “You don’t get to come in here and make assumptions about me, Chan. Sunghoon is my friend. He’s been here because you weren’t. Because you pushed me away. I didn’t have a choice.”

“But you looked happy cuddled with him,” he said, a hint of defensiveness in his tone. “It didn’t seem like you missed me at all.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the tightness in your chest intensify. “Of course, I missed you. But you don’t get to accuse me of moving on. I waited. I wanted… I thought maybe one day you’d see me. But you chose her. You chose someone who didn’t even care about you, and I was the one left behind. So of course I needed comfort.”

He took a shaky breath, eyes softening as he stepped closer. “I chose wrong. I see that now, Y/N. I know I hurt you, and I don’t expect you to just forget that. But I can’t pretend now that I don’t feel something for you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any hint of sincerity, but doubt gnawed at you. “We just went over this. How am I supposed to know it’s real? How am I supposed to believe that you actually want me, and not just because it’s convenient? If you loved me before than why not say something.”

“Why didn’t you say something!”

“Because unlike you I don’t go around dating people while I have a crush on someone Chan! If it was ‘oh so obvious’ than you should have said something. Or I don’t know, maybe when I blacked out and confessed you could have done something then-”

“I was petrified!” Chan shouted, causing you to take a step back. “How…how am I supposed to respond when my best friend’s little sister tells me she’s been in love with me since we were kids. And that’s its only growing?” He swallowed. “Am I supposed to take that risk and tell her its mutual, but that I don’t want to do anything in case things get messy? Because I don’t want to ruin things? Relationships are complicated Y/N! People fight and argue but romantic ones are so much heartier. Those arguments and fights hold more weight than friendships. I wasn’t…happy…only being your friend but I was content. Even if it meant I wouldn’t get to hold you or kiss you, or see your face in my children’s faces I was okay with that as long as it meant there was no risk in ruining things between us. And that saved me from the risk of getting on uneasy territory with Jisung. So I left it alone. I didn’t tell you. I asked Jisung to forget about it even if that meant he was upset at me for quote ‘rejecting my wonderful and perfect  little sister’ unquote.”

You stood there, lips trembling, not knowing what to say as he lay his heart in front of you.

He reached out, brushing a thumb over your cheek in a tender, hesitant motion. “But now that I know what it’s like to live without you, Y/N,  I can’t go back to that. I can’t. I don’t want anyone else. I just want a chance to make this right.”

The vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much, the raw honesty in his touch searing against your skin. But your heart still trembled with uncertainty, with a fear that ran deep.

“I’m petrified now.”

A tear slipped down his cheek as he nodded, a small chuckle leaving his lips, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had fallen from your own eyes. “I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I love you, Y/N, so you won’t have a reason to be scared. I don’t want to lose you, not again. I was blind, but I see it now. And if you’ll let me, I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your trust back. To get you to a point where you won’t be able to deny the fact I only want you.”

You held his gaze, your heart wavering between the hope you’d never fully let go of and the fear that he’d break it all over again. And in that quiet moment, with the ache of the past between you, a fragile, cautious feeling began to bloom once more.

You took a steadying breath, bracing yourself as you met Chan’s eyes. “Chan, I don’t know what assumptions you’ve made about Sunghoon, but he’s just my friend. He’s been there because…” You hesitated, the words delicate on your tongue. “Because I needed someone. Not someone to date, or to replace you, but just��someone who understands. He’s helped me pick up the pieces after everything fell apart. And he’s not even interested in relationships like that. We’re just close in a different way.”

Chan blinked, his gaze softening as he listened, brows knitting in a mixture of relief and confusion. “So… you and Sunghoon… you’re really just friends?”

“Yes,” you replied, hoping he could hear the sincerity in your voice. “And he’s not going to change his mind about that. He doesn’t want anything more with anyone. It’s not in him. But he’s been a good friend—my best friend…my soulmate really.” Your voice trailed off quietly. “He’s someone I could talk to when I felt like I’d lost you.”

Chan let out a slow breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he looked away, processing. “I…I feel so stupid. I was so ready to believe you’d moved on, that you’d replaced me. It was like this nightmare I’d imagined every night, that you’d found someone else who actually deserved you. And when I walked in and saw you both…”

His words faltered, and he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration and regret etched deep. “But I know I can’t blame you for being close to him. You had every right to find support after what I put you through. I just…”

“You just didn’t believe me,” you finished for him, the words raw but necessary. “And then you left, and I didn’t know how to fill that space you’d left behind but Sunghoon found a way. But that doesn’t mean he warrants any jealousy from you, Chris. I’m hoping you can learn to love him like you love Jisung. For me?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with regret.A part of you softened at the earnestness in his expression, the vulnerability that showed he understood, at least on some level, of what all of this meant. You sighed, feeling the weight of everything settling over you, but also immensely light.

But Chan seemed like he was struggling for a moment.

“Whats wrong?”

He bit his lip, his gaze darting away for a second before he finally asked, “Was there ever a point when…when you thought you could move on? That maybe you’d fall for someone else?”

The question struck deeper than you’d expected, and for a moment, you just looked at him, letting yourself process the vulnerability etched into his features. Did he truly think he could simply be replaced? That you’d spent years loving him, only to let him go?

“I thought about it,” you admitted, your voice soft but steady. “I thought maybe it would be easier if I could just let go. Even before all of this I thought about it. But no matter how much I tried, it was always you. It’s always been you.”

You felt the familiar sting of tears, and you blinked them away, not wanting him to see just how deeply his words affected you. “For the record, I don’t want to lose you either. But if we’re going to do this, we have to be honest. No more letting other people’s opinions get in the way. No more letting doubts fester between us.”

He nodded, a fierce determination filling his gaze. “No more doubts. I want us to be real, Y/N. Nothing standing in the way, just you and me.”

The weight of his words, the sincerity in his gaze, was almost overwhelming. You felt the warmth of his hand as he reached for yours, his fingers tentative, as if he wasn’t sure you’d accept him.

You took his hand, squeezing it gently, grounding yourself in the quiet assurance of his touch. It wasn’t the grand gesture you’d once dreamed of, but it was real. And somehow, that made it mean even more.

He looked down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing softly over your knuckles. “Thank you for giving me this chance, Y/N. I’ll spend every day showing you that I mean it.”

You offered him a small, tentative smile, one that held a flicker of hope. “And I’ll do my best to believe it. But you have to understand—this is going to take time.”

He nodded, his own smile softening his face. “I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

For a moment, you both stood there, hands entwined, caught in the delicate balance between past hurt and the fragile possibility of something new. The wounds might still be raw, but you could feel them beginning to heal, slowly, with each beat of your hearts in sync.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a cautious, budding belief that maybe, just maybe, this time, things would be different.

A few weeks later, things had settled into a comfortable, tentative new rhythm. The past wasn’t forgotten, but it had softened around the edges, allowing something new to bloom between you and Chan—no, Chris. You’d started calling him that again recently, just between the two of you, and every time he heard it, his eyes lit up, as though it was his own quiet assurance that he had your forgiveness, that he wasn’t just “Chan,” your brother’s best friend, but Chris, the man you were falling for all over again.

You weren’t rushing anything, taking each moment as it came. There were stolen glances, shared laughter, and late-night conversations that stretched until dawn, weaving a new kind of trust between you. He was patient and gentle, letting you set the pace, and every step you took forward felt right. It was healing, a slow rekindling that felt like rediscovering a part of yourself that had been missing.

One Saturday afternoon, you and Chris were sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background as he leaned closer, his arm resting around your shoulders. Sunghoon and Jisung had left to get snacks- Chris listening to your request and giving Sunghoon a chance, finding out that he genuinely enjoyed the company of your best friend. 

“Its like eternal best friend double dates.” Jisung had joked.

But since your brother and best friend had left, Chan had been looking at you with that soft, adoring expression you’d only dreamed of before, and it made you feel like you were the only person in his world.

“You’re staring,” you whispered, smiling as you felt a blush creep up your cheeks.

“Can you blame me?” he murmured back, his voice warm and low. “I’ve missed so much time, I don’t want to miss a single moment now.”

You felt your heart stutter, a nervous excitement bubbling up as you glanced down at his hand, your fingers lightly tracing patterns on the back of it. The space between you felt electric, and when he gently cupped your face, tilting it towards him, your breath caught. Slowly, as if asking permission, he leaned in.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and then his lips brushed softly against yours, a delicate kiss that felt like everything you’d waited for. His hand cradled your cheek, his thumb brushing gently as if he were afraid you might disappear. You kissed him back, your hand moving to rest against his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips, strong and steady.

“Chris,” you whispered softly as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, his name slipping out naturally, comfortably. The warmth in his eyes told you he’d heard everything you couldn’t put into words—how he was forgiven, how he was here, truly here, and that was all you’d ever wanted.

The tender moment, though, was cut short by a loud gasp and a stumbling sound near the doorway. You whipped around to see Jisung and Sunghoon standing there, both looking wide-eyed and more than a little surprised.

“Oh… I did not mean to see that,” Jisung said, covering his eyes dramatically, though you could see the smirk threatening to break through. “My best friend and my little sister? Wow, I was not prepared!”

Sunghoon, by contrast, grinned openly, the kind of grin that said he’d known this would happen all along. “Took you both long enough,” he teased, making his way over towards you to whack your head affectionately. “I was starting to think I’d have to do something drastic to get you two together.”

You laughed, face warm with embarrassment, but Chris only chuckled, unfazed even by Sunghoon’s physical touch with you, as he slid his arm around your shoulders again. “You two need to learn how to knock,” he said lightly, squeezing you a little closer.

Sunghoon just shrugged, shooting you a mischievous look. “I’m sure Jisung didn’t feel a need to consider having to knock on the door of his own home.”

Jisung laughed, giving Sunghoon a playful nudge. But then turning to Chan with a serious look. “I might still need to have ‘the talk’ with you, Hyung. I know we’ve known each other forever, but this is new territory.”

You rolled your eyes, pretending to scowl at your brother. “Oh, please, Ji. You never said anything before.”

“It’s because you weren’t actually together at the time! But now you are.”

Chris leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, a look of peace and contentment in his eyes. “Yeah, and I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, looking up at Jisung and Sunghoon, his tone serious yet gentle. “Not ever.”

Jisung nodded, his expression softening as he took in the scene. “Good. Just make sure you’re good to her, alright? Or else I’ll have to do the brotherly duty of fighting you or whatever older brothers are supposed to do…” He mumbled, turning towards Sunghoon for backup.

“Yeah…and I’ll do whatever a best friend does…” He said confused, shrugging as you laughed.

Chris’s grip tightened just slightly around your shoulders. “You don’t have to worry about that,” he said, his voice low and steady. “She’s the most important person in my life.”

Jisung scrunched up his nose, pretending to gag. “Ugh, okay, I was prepared for the brother talk, but I did not sign up for the mushy romance stuff. Can you two not be gross for five seconds?”

Chris laughed, glancing down at you with a sparkle in his eyes. “Fine, I’ll spare you… for now,” he said, giving you a playful nudge and a kiss to your nose

Sunghoon, ever the instigator, leaned back with a grin. “Hey, give them a break, Jisung. They’ve got years of this to catch up on. And honestly, I’m enjoying the show.”

Jisung threw a pillow in Sunghoon’s direction. “Well then maybe you should go find yourself someone if you think it’s cute seeing how my best friend and sister act.” He teased, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe they’ll have a sister and then you can join our family.”

Sunghoon shuddered and shook his head. “No thank you. But Y/N’s kids will have an Uncle who spoils them.” He said, grabbing the bottle of Soju from the coffee table.

“Hey! I get the title of favorite Uncle automatically.” Jisung whined. “No fair.”

Sunghoon shrugged. “The favorite Uncle has to be from the maternal side.”

“The hypothetical-” He shot a look at you. “Mom in question is my sister!”

“Logic, doesn’t always logic my dear friend.”

As Sunghoon and Jisung went back and forth you laughed, settling into Chris’s embrace, feeling the warmth of home around you. You felt his smile without even looking and it made your heart leap. This, right here, was everything you’d hoped for and more. And as the teasing and laughter filled the room, you knew that no matter what, you were exactly where you were meant to be. With who you were meant to be with.

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[hoshiros]

—✯ R U MINE?

AM Masterlist

cw. 18+ mdni. gen "just the tip" narumi, afab!reader. no condoms, lap sitting, dry humping, biting/marking, creampie, teasing, p→v sex, lots of swearing, attempts at humour lol...

NARUMI GEN has been ignoring you for six hours and thirty-four minutes.

In the time since you've arrived to his room, you've taken a nap, had some yakisoba, brushed your teeth, went on a nice doom scroll, and gotten back into bed.

And Gen... has barely looked in your direction, let alone spoken to you.

Had you known that buying him the DLC for his all-time favourite title would lead to you being abandoned, you would have gotten him something more practical—a new comforter, or multivitamins, or condoms, for goodness sake.

But here you are, dangling off the edge of his futon with blood rushing to your head. In your haziness, you can just make out his body filtering the light of his console. The soft sounds of the game fill the room, driving you to the brink of insanity.

"Gen," you whine quietly from the bed, watching him shuffle in his spot on the floor to crack his stiff back. "Come to bed."

"A couple more minutes," he huffs, turning around on his knees so you can see his chest. "Almost done."

Even with his promise, his attention never leaves the screen, the blue light cast onto his face making the circles under his eyes all the more evident. You pout, leering at his console, then him.

The noise that leaves you is indignant, irritation rising into your throat until it wills you to slip off the futon. Gen's eyes briefly flicker up to scrutinize you when you thud unceremoniously onto the floor, but then he pays you no mind while you shuffle over to him on your hands and knees.

"You're a jerk," you murmur, ducking under his arms to snake your way against his body. He grunts but lets you wiggle your way into his arms anyway, holding the console up high so you can't obstruct it.

"And you're clingy," he jabs back, though his words are devoid of malice.

He adjusts you carefully so that he can wrap his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder to see his screen. Your arms wrap around his neck until you're snug against him, finally warm and comfortable in his lap.

Your satisfaction lasts about three minutes. Again, he's ignoring you even though you're cradled against him.

You resort to desperate measures.

It starts with an adjustment that makes his eyes narrow. At first, it's subtle—the slightest roll of your hips and the faintest of friction as you settle deeper into his lap.

Gen can't tell if it's on purpose, the way you're so perfectly grinding against his dick that's getting hard at an alarming rate for what could be no reason.

Then, it's clear as day what your intention is when you release your hug around his neck to favour raking your nails down his chest with a sultry look.

His hand flies from his joycon to your waist, lip wobbling to give away his weak conviction as he scolds you. "Quit that," he hisses quietly.

The pads of his fingers roughly squeeze at your flesh, trying to force your body into submissive immobility. Still, you double down, gently sinking into the divot of his lap and keening into him.

"I'm lonely," you say, words so breathless that he can hardly hear them over his game. He shivers, and the expression he gives you sends a lick of heat down your spine.

You can't decipher whether he wants to be stern or if he wants to beg for just one more delicious swirl of your hips—perhaps both, though the words seem stuck in his throat either way. You smile sweetly knowing how easy he is to have.

Despite everything, Gen loves the simplicity of being yours.

He doesn't need to think twice. In fact, he'd rather be mauled to pieces by a Kaiju than do anything but be yours. That's why he gives in so easily—setting down the console so fast that he doesn't even save his progress.

Gen barely gets halfway through his complaint, muttering about how you'll be the death of him, when your lips find the front of his throat. "Shit," he curses, both hands roaming up your sides. He stops at your ribs, giving you a look of disapproval.

"Play fair," he warns.

"I am playing fair," you argue, then proceed to nudge his jaw with your nose. He sucks in a sharp breath as you pepper kisses up his jaw to the space just below his ear, not missing even a centimetre of his skin.

Gritting his teeth, he does everything he can to not give in to you right away. It would be totally lame for him to fall for your little ploy.

"Gen... Gen," you chant his name softly between pants, kisses littered down his neck until you reach his Adam's apple. It bobs violently as you linger there, silently considering how you should torment him next.

His warm hands dip down to where your thighs meld into your hips, unfurling the bottom of your shirt so he can feel the expanse of skin beneath the pads of his fingers.

Gen wastes no time tracing over your sides up to your chest. He's shameless in his grabbing and pinching, making sure to remember every inch of your body as if that would give him control of the situation back.

You draw in a slow breath, curling into his touch until he can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. He reaches for the console, the screen dim now that he's been inactive.

"Need to save," he grumbles.

He feels the smooth plastic of his joycon for only a millisecond before his hand flies back to your hip. The reason? He's about to do something as humiliating as cum in his pants because of a little dry humping.

"Did you get it?" You ask breathlessly, feeling the hardness in his sweats pressed firmly against you. 

"Yup," he lies, rutting into you like a teenager who can't control himself. "Totally."

Gen is going to lose it, actually. He can feel every bit of self-control slipping. (Though, he's never been good at it in the first place.)

“I want you.”

Each word is interrupted by another press of your lips against his warm skin up to his tight jaw.

"Ran out of condoms, you know that. You try’na kill me?" Gen asks with a dry swallow, patience wearing thin as you kiss the corner of his lips.

“I want you,” you say once more into his mouth as if it were a spell being cast. “Need you. Please? Just a bit? You can pull out, baby.” You wiggle your hips side to side, gently coaxing him into giving you just an inch.

Fuck. How could he say no to that?

It's embarrassing how fast he frees his dick from the constraints of his pants and boxers, as if he were just waiting for you to ask politely. If you didn't look as riled up as he did, you probably would have called him out on it.

Thank god you're too busy panting into his mouth as he clumsily helps you out of your shorts to leave your bottom bare in his lap.

The tip of his dick kisses your hole and he groans, eyes glued to the way you wet him with so much slick. He runs his length up and down your folds, thumb pressed against the vein so nicely that the friction is electrifying.

Even so, he feels bad not making you cum at least once first. You watch in surprise as he spits into his palm and fists himself a few times, coating his member in the hopes that you'll take him easier.

The noise you make when he first pushes the head past your entrance is addicting.

You curse in sync, soft whimpers matching as he sinks shallowly into you. Gen tries to speak but words fail him, so he opts to nip at your throat instead—a silent apology for not helping you cum first.

It takes a minute for you to adjust to the stretch. He leaves a trail of gentle kisses up and down the side of your neck, relishing in the tiny gasps and moans that escape you in the process.

You give his hips one firm squeeze with your thighs to tell him you're ready to move, and—

"Oh, shit," he moans, your walls squeezing him when you sink down and ride back up like you have dozens of times before. It never gets old.

He wants to move his hips, too. He wants to fuck you until you're a puddle in his lap. Then he gets the urge to cum humiliatingly early again and bites the inside of his cheek to push the thought away.

If he didn't know any better, he would think that unsatisfied look twisting in your face was nothing. However, he knows you have even less self-control than he does.

And what do you know? Gen chokes on his spit when you sink down noticeably further.

“Hah…” He laughs humourlessly, breath ghosting in your ear. “You fuckin’ asshole.”

“I slipped,” you argue weakly, dragging your hips upward until his aching tip is just about to spill out of you. Then you glide back down, and the way your pussy swallows up the extra length once again nearly makes him cry out.

“You said just the tip,” Gen warns, but the way he buries himself yet another inch deeper says it all.

“I’m not the only one who needs that reminder,” you tease, jaw falling slack as he shallowly humps into you. 

The way he fucks you is sloppy, hips rolling into yours with no real rhythm. Heat boils in his stomach, and by the time the fog clears from his heady mind, he realizes far too late that he's filled you with another inch.

Gen chokes again, groaning into your skin while he sinks his fangs into your shoulder. It's so good—too good, he can't fucking help himself.

"You're so annoying, y'know that?" He mutters. You whine high and needy in response, hands wandering up his shoulders to wrap around his neck and tangle in his hair.

Screw words. He'll just tell you the only other way he knows how. Screw you and the temptation he can never resist. Screw just fucking you a little bit.

Gen loves doing things halfway, but never this. Never you.

He nudges his way up to your ear, nipping gently at the lobe. "You're in for it now."

And suddenly his hand is trailing down your stomach and between your thighs. You sputter when the pad of his thumb squeezes against your clit.

"Gen?" You squeak in surprise. He kisses his way to your cheek, lips lingering there for a moment before his thumb starts circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Shut up," he murmurs, relishing in the way his deliberate movements draw breathy pants from your throat. Your walls squeeze him deliciously, nearly milking his poor, leaky cock.

Gen was always so mean to you—it's because he could never get tired of the soft sounds spilling from your swollen lips. There was no boss fight, no new console unboxing; nothing could ever feel as good as the way your walls hug him.

He finally rolls up into your warmth, pushing and filling you up until his hips are flush against yours. The wet smack is deafening. He's so fucked. There's no way he'll be coherent enough to pull out in time.

"Look what you did," he laughs, but it comes short. Groaning instead, he buries his face against you to kiss down the valley of your chest and back up to your shoulder where he stops to bite. "How 'm I supposed to pull out now?"

Painting a picture of flooding you with his cum until you're full and leaking makes his cock throb inside of you, earning him a pleased noise. You bounce with pathetic effort, hip stopped in place with one hand while the other works you undone between your thighs.

"Don't know what I'm gonna do with you."

"Just be quiet and cum inside of me, Gen," you huff, conviction finally thrown out the window in favour of having your cunt stuffed with his spend.

"Nuh-uh. You said to pull out. You'd kick my ass later."

"I won't—" you gasp, his dick abusing a soft, spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. "I will not!"

"Nah. You asked for this."

You open your mouth to protest again, only for it to snap shut when he thrusts into you so roughly that your voice leaves you.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You glare at your boyfriend, though you look to be on the verge of tears. The sight makes him all the needier, chasing the high he knows is coming.

"Just kiddin', babe," he snickers. "I'll give you what you want."

And he does. He always does.

Gen finally releases your hip, allowing you to ride him properly. He matches your rhythm, the depth he reaches causing your knees to shake against the floor.

He fixates on the glistening ring of white at the base of his cock where your pussy swallows him up. It's too much. He loves this so much. He loves you so much.

There's only about ten things in the entire world that could make Gen put down a good game. Half of them are Kaiju related. The other half all have your name attached to them.

He gives you a look, knowing and sly as he rolls your clit gently between his fingers. That's all it takes for you to topple into his chest, shivering and squirming while you cum on his dick.

Gen only lasts another few rolls of his hips until he's spilling inside of you, shoving his face into the space between your shoulder and neck to hide his pathetic strain.

Your pulse races against his cheek. There's a sharpness in your breath as you catch it, body still trembling in his lap with every minute shift of his hips. 

His switch makes a noise to tell him his battery is low. Gen pulls away from the crook of your neck just enough to look at the blinking notification. He's just about to reach over to save when—

"More," you rasp into his ear.

His hand falters in the air, and the twitch of his cock is telling enough.

"I gotcha," he grunts, fist clenched tight as he draws it back to wrap around your back and pull you flush into his chest.

If his console dies, he has no qualms making up that six hours and thirty-four minutes of gameplay again. An easy price to pay as long as he gets to be yours.

[ghostly--photography]

Oh Captain, My Captain | Q. Hughes

Warnings - smut, kissing, p in v, wrap it before you tap it

Word Count - 1k

Summary - Your own way of congratulating Quinn on the new captaincy…

The grand ballroom of the Fairmont Hotel Vancouver swirled with glitz and glamour as the annual charity gala for the Canucks kicked into high gear. Quinn Hughes, the freshly minted captain, looked resplendent in his tailored tuxedo, his piercing blue eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. You were already tipsy from one too many glasses of champagne and had been watching him from across the room with a smoldering gaze, your heart racing with desire. you had been fantasizing about this moment for weeks, dreaming of the night when you could finally claim him as your own, in the most intimate of ways. Their three-year relationship had been a whirlwind of love, passion, and stolen moments, but tonight, with the eyes of Vancouver's elite upon them, you wanted more than just a kiss behind the curtain. you sailed through the sea of well-wishers and teammates, your crimson dress hugging your curves and leaving little to the imagination. As you approached Quinn, you could feel the heat of his gaze on you, a silent promise of the fire that awaited them. "Take me to the bathroom," you murmured into his ear, your breath hot and urgent. "Now." Quinn's eyes widened in surprise, but the hunger in your voice was unmistakable. He knew that tone all too well. With a quick nod, he disentangled himself from the group and led you through the throng, his hand firm around your waist, guiding you to the secluded sanctuary you so desperately craved.

Once in the bathroom, Quinn locked the door behind them, the sound echoing through the marble chamber. Your eyes were dark with lust, your chest heaving with anticipation as you reached up to tug at his bowtie. "I've wanted you all night," you breathed, your fingers trembling with the need to feel him. Quinn's gaze roamed your flushed features, his desire mirroring yours. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he backed you into the plush vanity. The cool marble countertop pressed against your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, your body begging for more. His hands roamed your waist, sliding down to cup your ass, lifting yours slightly so you could feel his arousal pressing against yours. you moaned into the kiss, grinding against him, your need for him growing with every passing second. Quinn broke away, panting, and whispered, "Are you sure about this?" You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life." With that, he scooped you up and placed you on the counter, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. The heat between them was palpable, their three years of passion culminating in this moment of raw desire, hidden away from the prying eyes of the gala.

Quinn's strong hands gripped the fabric of your dress, hiking it up to reveal your lacy red lingerie, matching the color of your dress and the passion in your eyes. He kissed along your collarbone, feeling your pulse race under his lips as he reached behind to unclasp your bra, letting your breasts spill free. He took a moment to admire the soft mounds, teasing the peaked nipples with his thumbs before leaning in to capture one in his mouth, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, urging him to take more. He obliged, suckling and biting gently, eliciting a symphony of moans that filled the small space. His other hand trailed down your body, slipping under your panties to find you wet and ready, his fingers teasing your clit in slow, torturous circles. you squirmed and bucked your hips, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he expertly worked your body. Quinn could feel the tension coiling within you, the same tension that had been building in him all night. He knew you were close, your breaths hitching and your legs tightening around his waist. With a final, firm press of his thumb, you came undone, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, crying out his name. He kissed you deeply, swallowing your cries as he felt his own need for you reaching a fever pitch.

Quinn's own desire was now a raging inferno, his cock straining against his pants. He pulled away from your kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he unzipped his fly and freed his erection. Your eyes widened with lust as you watched him stroke himself, the sight making you wetter. "Take me," you begged your voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down his spine. He stepped closer, aligning himself with yours, and with one swift motion, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. you gasped, your body adjusting to his size, your walls clenching around him as you felt the head of his cock hit the spot that made you see stars. You moved together, a dance of passion that had been perfected over the years, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. The reader's nails dug into his shoulders, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. The sound of their flesh slapping together filled the room, punctuated by their ragged breaths and gasps of pleasure. Quinn's grip on your hips tightened as he pounded into you, each stroke deeper and more demanding than the last. They were lost in the moment, the outside world forgotten as they claimed each other with an intensity that left them both breathless. Your orgasm built again, a crescendo of sensation that had you biting your bottom lip to stifle your cries. Quinn felt you tighten around him, and with one final, powerful thrust, he followed you over the edge, filling you with his release. They held onto each other panting and trembling, their hearts racing as they rode the waves of pleasure that crashed over them. For a brief moment, the bathroom was their private paradise, a sanctuary of passion amidst the swirl of the charity gala.

Their breaths mingled in the steamy air as they stared into each other's eyes, the reality of their heated tryst in the bathroom of the charity gala sinking in. Quinn's forehead was dotted with sweat, his eyes smoldering as he gently kissed the reader's neck, his cock still inside you, pulsing with the aftershocks of climax. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, your body clinging to his as if you never wanted to let go. With a soft moan, you whispered, "Quinn, that was..." But the words trailed off as you couldn't find the right ones to describe the intensity of their lovemaking. He chuckled, his breath warm against your skin, and kissed you tenderly. "Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, gently setting your back on your feet. He helped you fix your dress and lingerie, his touch gentle but urgent as if he couldn't bear to part from your body even for a second. They managed to compose themselves, sharing a secret smile in the mirror that spoke volumes about the unbridled desire that had just been unleashed between them. With one last lingering kiss, Quinn opened the door, and they stepped back into the gala, the scent of their passion lingering on their skin, a delicious secret that only they shared amidst the swirling ballroom. The rest of the night was a haze of stolen glances and knowing smiles, the electricity between them palpable to everyone who saw them. Little did they know that the new captain of the Canucks had just scored the ultimate goal in the most unexpected of places.

[kashixxx47]

Welcome Home

from pin↑

The village was quiet under the soft glow of streetlights as Kakashi finally made his way home. The mission had been grueling, pushing him to his limits, and every step he took felt heavier than the last. His clothes were dusted with dirt, his arms and legs aching from exhaustion, and he barely had the energy to take off his shoes as he stepped inside.

But there, at the door, stood Y/N. She’d been waiting for him, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him. Without a word, she walked over and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight. Kakashi sighed, letting the weight of his day melt away in her embrace, and buried his face in her shoulder, grateful to be home at last.

“You’re back,” she murmured, her voice soft and full of warmth. “I missed you.”

Kakashi managed a tired smile, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “I missed you, too.”

Just then, the faint pitter-patter of small footsteps echoed down the hall, and three small faces peeked around the corner. The kids’ eyes went wide with excitement, and before Kakashi knew it, they were rushing over, giggling as they threw their arms around him.

“Dad!” Kitto squealed, clutching his father’s leg. “You’re home!”

Ruka hugged his other side, her eyes drooping but filled with joy. Kashu, always the quieter one, simply leaned against him, his small hand gripping Kakashi’s with a reassuring squeeze. “We missed you, Dad,” he whispered.

Kakashi knelt down, giving each of them a gentle hug. “I missed you all, too,” he said, his voice soft with exhaustion yet filled with love.

Y/N, sensing how tired he was, gently coaxed the kids back toward their room. “Alright, everyone, time for bed. Dad needs to rest now, but he’ll be here in the morning, okay?”

The kids each gave Kakashi one last goodnight hug, their sleepy smiles warming his heart before they finally shuffled back to their room. Y/N tucked them in, whispering soft reassurances before quietly closing their door.

When she returned, she found Kakashi leaning heavily against the wall, his eyes half-closed in fatigue. She reached for his hand, guiding him gently. “Come on. Let’s get you out of those clothes and into something more comfortable.”

He nodded, following her to the bathroom where she’d already prepared a hot bath. Candles cast a warm, gentle glow around the room, and soft towels were folded nearby, the room feeling as inviting as a safe haven. Y/N helped him with his gear, his hands too weary to manage on his own, and he let her, feeling utterly cared for.

As he sank into the hot water, Kakashi let out a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth seep into his muscles, soothing the aches and bruises. Y/N knelt beside the tub, reaching over to brush her fingers through his hair, and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

“Rough mission?” she asked softly, her voice full of concern.

He nodded, eyes still closed. “It was… but I kept thinking about coming home to you. To all of you. It made it easier to keep going.”

Y/N’s heart swelled, and she leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “We’re so glad to have you back, Kakashi. There’s no place we’d rather have you than here, safe and sound.”

He gave a small, grateful smile, reaching for her hand and squeezing it gently. “Thank you. For everything.” Her hand was warm in his, steadying him even as his body finally relaxed fully into the water.

When the water began to cool, Y/N helped him up, wrapping him in a towel and guiding him to their room. The bed was turned down, pillows fluffed, and as he lay down, Y/N slipped in beside him, her arms open in silent invitation. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping himself around her, his head resting on her chest as he let out a deep, contented sigh.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair, her touch soft and soothing. “I missed this,” he murmured, his voice muffled against her shoulder. “Just being close to you.”

She held him tighter, her fingers tracing small circles on his back. “I missed you, too. It’s not the same without you here.”

For a while, they lay together in comfortable silence, his breathing slowing as he sank deeper into her embrace. He felt her press a gentle kiss to his forehead, then another to his temple, her quiet affection wrapping him in warmth. The world felt far away, all the tension and exhaustion melting under her touch.

As his eyes grew heavy, Kakashi’s voice softened to a whisper. “You’re… my home. The thought of coming back to you… it kept me going out there.”

Y/N’s hand paused for a moment, her heart swelling at his words. She kissed the top of his head, her voice just as quiet. “You’ll always have a place to come back to, Kakashi. We’ll always be here, waiting for you.”

With that, he let his last bit of tension melt away, his breathing slowing as he drifted into a deep, restful sleep. And for the first time in a long while, he felt completely at peace, knowing he was exactly where he belonged—in the warmth and safety of her arms, in the quiet heart of their home.

[ I really needed that cuddles]

Hope y'al like it ヾ(＾-＾)ノ

[star2fishmeg]

Luke neck kisses 😍😍😍like him just being so needy and so obsessed with you all the time

Neck kisses are my weakness and that + Luke I'm melting

This isn't really smutty but it has smutty themes

He was never good at keeping his hands to himself, but you're not good at telling him to let go either. One minute you're reaching up into the cabinet, trying to reach the plates Luke had purposely placed there, the thought of just climbing the counter creeping to mind and the next minute thick arms wrap around your waist, hot breath fanning your neck and damp curls brushing your skin. His lips press gentle butterfly kisses from your cheek trailing down your neck, ones that send fuzzy tingles to your stomach.

"Lu, that tickles! What's gotten into you?" You retract your arms from your attempt at reaching the plates, wrapping one arm behind you and running your fingers through his curls instead.

He lazily emerges, resting his chin on the top of your head and pulling your back into his chest, "Just missed my pretty girlfriend, am I not allowed to kiss you?"

A loud fake gagging burst out from the other end of the kitchen, both you and Luke snapping your heads around to see Jack, screwing up his face, cookbook propped up in front of him halfway through making dinner for the three of you. While Luke rolls his eyes, you giggle softly and shuffle to the left, checking the pots on the stove and stirring. Luke's lips pull into his dopey grin, and he dips down again, burying his face into your neck and smothering hot, open-mouthed kisses over the column, teeth nipping into your skin and soft, quiet moans vibrating into your ears only. You've been dating him for a while, long enough to know what he wants but when his lips are so soft against that one sweet spot he knows best at the base of your neck, you melt into him.

"Not that. I love when you kiss me," you push your ass back into his hips, feeling how hard he is beneath his shorts, "that. What the hell happened when you were taking a shower?"

"Nothin'." He mumbles into your skin, breathing heavily (very well knowing what he got up to in the shower) while you continue stirring, hoping it'll distract you from his seduction tactics. One arm unwraps from your waist, sliding his hand to lay flat over your lower stomach instead, "Walked in here to see you struggling to reach those plates and couldn't help myself, just so cute on your tiptoes like that, makes me think about being insi-"

"Luke, your brother is in the room too," your smile's playful, moving back to the counter to slice up the vegetables, Luke following like a shadow, latching back onto your neck but moving to the other side, running his tongue over the flesh before his lips press sloppy kisses, heat rushing to his neck as his hips push into your ass, doing his best to subtly rut into you to find himself friction. He bites down at the base of your neck, drawing a gasp from you and relishing in your body responding in a jolt back, hitting his crotch in a way that earns a faint groan from him as he sucks a pink blossom into your skin.

"Lukey, when they say cooked with love, they did not mean this, get out or help." Jack's voice calls out, teasing with a smirk on his lips. Luke groans out, frustrated, pulling away from you and your laughter and wipes the rogue saliva away from his lips with the back of his hand, reaching up into the cabinet to finish the task he originally walked in to do - help you grab the plates.

[capquinn]

the world needs more dad!quinn

please please please whatever your thoughts are

how about quinny being a nervous wreck about telling his daughter that there’s another baby on the way?

You were pregnant, and it was beautiful and thrilling, but you both felt a hint of apprehension too — an undercurrent of worry neither of you wanted to admit out loud. The idea of sharing the news with your daughter, your first little love, brought out a nervousness you hadn’t expected. You and Quinn had been carrying the news gently, holding it like something fragile, not ready to break the quiet, precious bubble that was the life you’d built with her.

You’d spent nights together whispering about it, wondering if she’d understand. She was only little, after all, and hadn’t ever asked about a sibling or shown any real curiosity about what it meant to share her world. In her own quiet way, she seemed perfectly content being the center of yours, completely secure in her little life where it was just the three of you. The last thing you wanted was for her to feel overlooked or, even worse, like she was being edged out of her place in the family.

Quinn felt it too. In the quiet hours of the night, he’d lie awake beside you, tracing absent-minded circles on your hand, his brow furrowed, eyes distant with worry. The thought of your daughter, his whole world, feeling even a hint of neglect made him feel almost dizzy. She’d been the center of his life from the moment she was born, the one who turned him from simply Quinn into dad, and now, he couldn’t bear the idea of her ever feeling anything less than cherished.

One night, his voice barely a murmur in the dark, he confessed, “What if she thinks we’re going to love her less?”

You reached out, brushing a hand through his hair, reassuring him softly, though you shared the same unease. He tried to shake it, telling himself she’d feel just as adored, that nothing would change, but the worry still lingered. She was his little Bug, the one he’d stayed up with through endless nights of colic, the one whose first steps he’d recorded with misty eyes. To him, the thought of her feeling anything less than completely cherished was unthinkable.

So every time you had started to tell her, a little voice would hold you back, and you’d both decide, without really saying it, to let it wait.

But then, on a soft Saturday morning, with the three of you cuddled on the couch, her hand found its way to your belly. It was unintentional, or at least, it seemed that way, her small fingers spread gently across your stomach as if she could feel the life growing there, instinctively protective. Quinn noticed it first, his eyes widening slightly as he gave you a nudge, nodding down. You glanced down, heart skipping a beat at the sight, her touch resting over your belly with a gentle certainty, like maybe she knew all along.

It was a sign, one you both took as the moment you’d been waiting for. And as you looked at her, so small and so perfectly at ease, you knew it was time.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you say, voice soft, “can we tell you a little secret?”

She glances up at you, her big eyes wide and calm, curiosity glimmering beneath the sleepy contentment on her face. You can feel Quinn shift closer beside you, his hand squeezing yours in a quiet show of support.

But when you open your mouth, the words won’t come, and there’s a moment of quiet where she’s looking at you, waiting, her gaze expectant and patient. You glance at Quinn, feeling that hesitation rise up again, but he gives you a gentle nod. And then, in his own way, he steps in.

“C’mere, Bug,” he murmurs, reaching over to beckon her closer, patting his lap.

She crawls over to him, and with his help, she settles against his chest, her small head resting over his heart. He wraps his arms around her, one hand rubbing her back, as he leans in close, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur, like he’s letting her in on a secret meant only for the three of you.

“You know how it’s always been you, mommy, and me?” he starts, his tone soft, almost hesitant, and she nods, still wide-eyed and listening. He smiles, glancing at you for reassurance before he continues. “Well… pretty soon, you’re going to have a baby brother or sister to play with.”

She blinks, taking it in, her gaze flicking to your belly for a second as if she’s trying to make sense of it. Then, she looks back at Quinn.

“A baby?” she whispers, voice thick with sleep, and you both nod, watching her with your hearts on edge, waiting.

For a moment, she’s silent, her face thoughtful and serious, and you feel Quinn’s hand tighten around yours, his own anxiety palpable.

But then she just gives a small nod, and in a soft voice, says, “okay.”

It’s the quietest reaction, but it’s enough to make the tension release between you and Quinn. He presses a kiss to her forehead, a small sigh of relief escaping him, but you can see he’s still holding back, waiting for more.

At breakfast, though, her thoughts start to spill out in bursts between bites of toast and fruit.

“Where is the baby going to sleep?” she asks, her little brows furrowing as she looks between you and Quinn, her tone unexpectedly serious.

There’s something in her voice — concern, perhaps — that makes it sound like she’s the responsible parent, the one overseeing this whole arrangement, questioning two teenagers caught in a situation they hadn’t fully thought through. Her question hangs in the air, blunt and practical, with just a hint of wariness that catches you both a little off-guard.

Quinn bites back a laugh, glancing at you, and then clears his throat to compose himself. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

“Well,” he says gently, trying to match her level of seriousness, “for a while, the baby will sleep in our room. You know, just like you did when you were little.”

She seems to mull that over, a little frown still creasing her forehead, but she nods.

As breakfast continues, her questions come out one by one, and each answer seems to ease her, little by little, until you see that small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

By the end of breakfast, she’s trailing behind Quinn as he tidies up, her little fingers catching on his sleeve, tugging gently. When he glances down, she’s looking up at him with those wide, steady eyes, and there’s a question there that makes his heart catch.

“Can I help with the baby?” she asks, her voice small but sure, and the hesitation you’d both been so afraid of is nowhere to be found. It’s replaced with something that melts every worry in an instant — a gentle curiosity, tinged with a spark of excitement that mirrors your own, like she’s beginning to imagine this new chapter with a mix of wonder and eagerness.

Quinn’s eyes soften, and a wave of quiet relief sweeps over him as he meets your gaze across the kitchen. The tension in his shoulders melts, replaced with a pride that pounds in his chest. Without a second thought, he scoops her up into his arms, holding her close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Of course you can, Bug,” he murmurs, voice thick with warmth. “You’re going to be the best big sister.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

requests are open - let’s daydream!

[coffeeghoulie]

"youre gonna get lipstick all over me" with lus & dew mayyybeee??

I had a lot of thoughts about this one and it could have gone a million different ways, but I'm very happy with how it turned out.

prompt from this list.

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Dew's tucked into the corner of one of the loveseats in the den commons, eyes half lidded as he watches some movie he's seen a hundred times but couldn't care to name. Better than silence, and it feels like every one of his packmates have disappeared.

He's okay with silence, but the loneliness he can't stand. Dew knows in the very core of his heart that he's just being dramatic, half of his packmates are doing their assigned duties around the Abbey on the off season from touring. The other half are still asleep even though it's well past noon, and Dew's not going to barge into anyone's room and demand they pay attention to him like a particularly stubborn orange cat.

So he snuggles into the corner of the couch, a throw pillow held in his arms as he half-watches the tv. The autumn chill is starting to creep into the halls of the Abbey, but it's still too early for the central heating to be turned on. Dew sighs, reaching into his infernal magick to crank up his body temperature a few degrees, shifting until he's a little more comfortable.

The moment he's settled, a floorboard creaks in the hallway, and Dew perks up, turning to face the doorway. "Morning, lamb."

Cumulus chirps happily as she sees him, cheeks dimpling when she smiles wide. "Hi, junebug!" she trills, eyeing the empty seat next to him. "You doing anything important?"

He shrugs, patting the couch cushion with the tip of his tail. Cumulus is quick to settle next to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a soft coo. He wraps an arm around her side, pulling her a little closer, and she happily nuzzles into his warmth. "Didn't know you liked this movie," she hums.

"Wouldn't say liked," Dew shrugs, careful not to disturb her. "More like I don't mind it," he admits, turning to nose at her hair, breathing in her coconut-sweet shampoo. "I wouldn't mind doing something else. Just killing time."

"You wanna gimme a kiss?" Cumulus asks teasingly. She cranes her neck to peer up at him, cocking her head. Dew turns to meet her icy blue gaze, lips quirking up with a soft smile. His brow furrows as his eyes drop to her lips.

It isn't strange to see Cumulus wearing makeup, but the brick red lipstick she's put on isn't one she typically wears. She wears reds, but more often than not she prefers mauvy colors, things a little on the cooler side than the lipstick she's got on. It's not like the new color looks bad on her though, quite the opposite.

Dew raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I see," Dew laughs with a huff of breath. "You don't want a kiss, you want a smudge tester."

Cumulus arches an elegant brow. "Two things can be true at once, junebug," she says, a particularly wicked grin spreading across her face as she bats her lashes. "Am I not allowed to want to kiss my favorite fire ghoul?"

"Mmm, you're gonna get lipstick all over me," Dew shakes his head playfully, hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Fine, lamb. Gimme a kiss."

Her eyes flash, and she surges up to kiss him. Dew feels the almost waxy slide of the lipstick against his own lips, even as he melts into the kiss. It's not an unpleasant sensation despite the way the taste of the makeup covers her own taste.

Dew melts into it, fingers sliding into her curls just to hold as their lips move together. Cumulus hums, licking at the seam of his mouth, and he eagerly gives her access. There it is, the taste of her mouth, and Dew groans into her kiss.

Her arms loop around his neck, shifting on the loveseat until they're facing each other, Cumulus straddling his thigh. Getting more comfortable as one kiss turns to two, three, too many to count. They pull apart to breathe, or more really, for Dew to breathe, their foreheads pressed together as they share air. The movie still plays on the tv, all but forgotten.

"Hi, junie," Cumulus giggles, cheeks dimpled, as she presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Hi, Cue," Dew says, shivering as she trails kisses from his mouth to his jaw, nipping little things that worry at his pale gray skin. His eyes flutter shut, head tipping back to give her more access.

She eagerly takes advantage of it, trailing soft, sucking kisses from his jaw to the sensitive spot just under his ear. Dew's tail curls around one of her thighs, groaning low in his throat as she sucks and nips at the spot. Spindly fingers tighten in her hair, not pulling or pushing, just desperate for something to hold. His other hand finds her waist, curls into the soft fabric of her shirt.

"Shit, yeah, there," he whispers, eyes shut. He sinks a fang into his bottom lip, the faintest taste of iron mixing with the lipstick she's left on him.

Eventually, Cumulus pulls back, her tail flicking behind her and grinning like the cat that got the cream. Dew stares at her, because how couldn't he? Deep red lipstick smeared and smudged over plump lips, cheeks rosy and flushed, eyes bright.

Dew trills, unable to help himself from darting forward and pressing a kiss to the apple of her cheek. It leaves a distinct mark of his lips in that same dark shade as he pulls back.

He can only imagine what he looks like. Dew presses his lips together, feels the slide of the lipstick on them, the smears of it across his face and down his throat.

Cumulus licks her lips as she appraises him, eyes glancing over his face and throat. "Hmm. This one's definitely more your color."

[icaruspendragon]

Would love to see your take on heartstopper ( maybe tao and nick bonding? Bonus points if mama nelson is on board)

and when i tell you i’ve got 17k words worth of nick-centric charlie pov that i’ve been writing for like ten months living in my docs LMAO

pls enjoy this snippet in hopes that validation will be enough to get me going on it again hshs

“Charlie is shivering in his seat, January air clinging to him long after he finished the walk to his children’s literature lecture. His hands are wrapped around a paper cup, clutching it in a desperate attempt to leech some of the tea's warmth into his nearly numb fingers, gaze focused on the laptop in front of him. Charlie generally keeps his head down at the start of term, preferring to be seen and not heard for the first couple of weeks to get a feel for things. That way he knows how to conduct himself. Still, almost instinctively, he looks up upon hearing a new set of footsteps cross the threshold, wondering idly if it’s anyone he knows from last term.

Charlie most definitely does not know the stranger hesitating just past the doorway. He’s rosy-cheeked and strawberry-blonde and boyish. And he’s just standing there as he scans the room in search of a seat like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like he isn’t making Charlie feel like the human equivalent of an error 404 message.

He may not know the other boy, but Christ does he want to. He’s pulled from the beginnings of a daydream featuring a rosy-boy when the gaze of the boy in question lands on Charlie. His lips quirk upwards and lopsided and soft when their eyes meet. And it’s a moment that feels significant for some reason, like it’s stretching out before them like honey falling from a spoon. Slow and sweet and promising warmth. It stretches further when the unnamed boy walks toward the empty seat beside him and his cheeks get impossibly rosier with each step.

Charlie’s brain offers two incredibly unhelpful thoughts as his seatmate gets settled: He’s so pretty and oh no.

Gay panic makes itself right at home while he tries (and rather spectacularly fails) not to stare too hard at the boy next to him. He turns slightly and now they’re face to face. Charlie learns his eyes are brown. They’re brown like honey, warm and sweet. And he has freckles. So many freckles. So many constellation clusters dusted across rosy, rosy cheeks.

Charlie realizes that silently staring at the boy next to him is weird, “Hi.”

The rosy-boy smiles, looking at Charlie with his honey-warm eyes for several seconds before offering a quiet greeting of his own.

“Hi.”

He knows something else is supposed to happen now, something he needs to do. He just can’t remember what it is.

“I’m Nick.”

Even his voice is pretty. Another distracted moment passes with Nick looking at him all honey-eyed and rosy-cheeked. Then another before oh shit, I’m supposed to also introduce myself.

“Charlie.”

A handful of distracted moments pass where they look at each other for what’s probably a beat, then two, then three too long. Nick exhales through his nose, it’s a gentle approximation of a laugh, but then their professor is standing up from the desk and walking to the lectern and Nick turns his head to the front of the room. Charlie does the same, managing all of ten seconds before giving into temptation and casting a sidelong glance at Nick.

His smile is still soft.

His cheeks are still rosy.

And he’s looking at Charlie, too.”

[thescarletnargacuga]

Regular digital circus showtime fic thats just

Caine (in a doctors outfit): Worry not pomni! As soon as i figure out what horrible illness is plaguing you i will not rest until you are cured!

Pomni: Caine for the 17th time it is litterally a minor cold.

Caine: I WILL CURE THIS ILLNESS FOR MY AMAZING WIFE OR DIE TRYING!

SNIFFLES

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none

~~~

Pomni wasn't feeling one hundred percent. Still well enough to stand with the others and listen to Caine prattle on about the day's adventure, but she wanted to go back to bed. Her eyelids felt heavy and, despite not having a nose, felt the need to sniff mucus back every few minutes. She took a long sniff, loudly announcing to the room that she wasn't feeling her best.

Caine stopped talking almost immediately. "Pomni? What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Keep talking. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Oh my goodness gracious gravy. You're sick!" He zips to her and sweeps her off her feet. "Not to worry, my dear, I'll have you feeling better in a jiffy!"

"Wha- Caine!" She holds onto him for balance as he zooms off.

The other circus members watch Caine fly away. "So...we adventuring today or not?" Jax asks, looking at Bubble.

"How should I know? I'm a bubble." Bubble spun around in the air without a care in the world.

~

Pomni plopped down on an examination table. Bright florescent lights illuminated a doctor's office space. With a flourish, Caine's tux turned into a white doctor's coat and his cane turned into a clipboard.

"Caine, I'm fine. It's just a cold."

"It is most definitely not fine!" Caine rests his fist against his hip. "You are my wife. As your husband, it is my solemn duty to help you in any way I can."

"I appreciate that, but-"

"I will find a cure for this illness OR DIE TRYING!" Caine clicked his feet together at attention.

"Caine, please-"

"Now, now, just relax." Caine pushed her back to have her lay down on the examination table. "Leave everything to me. First, I should check your blood pressure. Since you have no blood in the digital realm, I'll have to improvise."

He strapped a bottle of ketchup to her arm and then wrapped the cuff of the sphygmomanometer around both. He squeezed the bulb to inflate the cuff until the bottle of ketchup burst. "Hmm, seems a little low." He tapped the ketchup covered gauge.

Pomni wiped ketchup off her face. "It's just a cold, Caine." She deadpanned.

"Now, to check your ears- wait, I forgot you don't have any. Uh, I suppose I could check your reflexes." A giant cartoon mallet appeared in his hand.

"Ah!" Pomni rolled off the table before the mallet came down. "It's just a cold!"

"Pomni, I need your full cooperation if you want to get better." He tossed the mallet away, a cartoon crash along with a cat's yowl sounded. "Oh! How could I forget, I need to check your throat! Say ah!"

"What? Mmph!!" Pomni nearly gagged when Caine shoved one of his eyes into her mouth.

Caine held his hand over her mouth for a few seconds before letting her spit out his eye. It bounced off the floor, to the wall and back in place through the back of his mouth. "I didn't see any fuzzy purple spots. This is most troubling. You're supposed to have at least three per corner."

"Caine, STOP! It's JUST a COLD!!"

Caine flinched at her shouting. He shrank down to the ground, tapping his fingers together nervously. "I'm...doing too much again, aren't I?"

Pomni sighed. "No, you're not doing too much. You're working yourself into a tizzy and not listening to me. Your anxiety deafens you to the point that I have to shout. I don't like doing that." She rubs her arm, looking away.

"I just-....I worry."

"I know you do, but even when you worry about someone, please listen to what they have to say."

Caine hung his head. "I'm sorry..."

Pomni put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not mad. I'm glad you care so much in your own unique way. If it helps, I'll let you play doctor a little longer, but I assure you, it's just a cold. I'll be fine in a few days."

"Okay." Caine held up his stethoscope. "Can I listen to your heartbeat?"

Pomni hopped up on the table. "Of course." She sat still for him as he gently pressed the chestpiece against her.

Caine heard only a quiet buzz of static. Normal for a digital avatar. He went to pull away when Pomni held his hand to her chest.

"Ba-bum...ba-bum..." Pomni repeated rhythmically.

"What are you doing?" Caine arched his top teeth quizzically.

"It's what a human heart sounds like. I'm just playing along." Pomni smiled.

Caine smiled back, holding the chestpiece in place a little longer to hear Pomni mimic the steady beat of a real human heart. "Sounds healthy."

"It is. It gets a lot of exercise when I see the most handsome AI in the whole world."

Caine blushed and giggled. "Stahp, I bet you say that to every AI."

"Nah, just the one I married." Pomni leaned towards him with come-hither eyes.

Caine smirked, leaning in with her. "Lucky fella."

"I'm the lucky one." Pomni softly kissed his bottom teeth.

[chimivx]

home;run -> fem!reader x mlb!mingyu, mlb!vernon, mlb!dk

College didn't work out, so you're stuck with the next best thing. Living with your superstar brother, traveling with his championship winning team, haunted by your past and heavily influenced by your present.

wc; {part six} 7k warnings; 18+, sexual content, alcohol consumption/abuse, bad influences around her, manipulation, her name gets taken advantage of in public media, if i missed anything please let me know!! notes; peese n lurv. <3

“It’s a little hypocritical, V.”

The door to the hotel weighed a thousand pounds. Slippery hands and intoxicated muscles could barely budge it an inch. Laughing to himself, Vernon took the handle from you over your shoulder and moved you backwards to pull it open, the two of you stepping into the vestibule.

“I don’t think it is, Isla,” he said, keeping his voice between the two of you, unlike you, still wobbling and unable to consciously realize how loud you were actually talking. Holding his arms out behind you as you took a slight stumble backward, he gave you a gentle push toward the second door, this one just as heavy. “Let me-”

“No,” you spat, then giggled. Wrapping your hands around the cool metal of the glass door you tugged backward once, twice, then three times before you were able to finally work it open. “Aha!” you cheered, throwing a look back at him.

What you didn’t see, what your tipsiness failed to pick up on was the way he shoved his foot in the bottom of the door to help you pull it open.

“Good job,” he mumbled with a tiny smile. “I’m not a hypocrite.” 

Wandering into the lobby lit with dim lightning now that the clocks had ticked past midnight, you bickered like you would back at Nasara, a lighthearted thing, something that essentially meant nothing. 

Spinning in a half circle to point at him, eyebrows raised, you whispered, “Hypocrite.”

“I didn’t have time to answer you,” he groaned in a way that told you he was simply playing along. Rolling his head backward, taking his eyes with it in the process, he tilted his chin to the side when he looked at you, a smile playing on his lips. “They do things differently here, I’m not able to be on my phone right before a game.”

Crossing your arms over your chest you popped out a hip. “You could’ve said something after.”

Drawing his eyes all over you, he shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed. “You’re right,” he shrugged, “I’m sorry, Isla.”

The chocolate of his eyes beckoned you closer, but you stayed put. Letting the rubber of your sneakers melt into the floor, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t budge, no matter how his gaze was making you feel. Heat rose to your cheeks before it rushed through every inch of your body. Clutching your arms tight, he took note, then averted his eyes to the floor trying to resist the smile that longed to break out onto his face.

“Did it help?” Your whisper had his eyes latching back onto yours. “The message?”

Lips tipping up, he hesitated a moment, then bobbed his head. “Yeah,” he said with a breath. “It did. Thank you.”

Swallowing hard, you nodded with him and took a breath to steady your beating heart. “Course,” you said. Your gaze lingered too long on his neck, on the shirt that draped over his shoulders, one button undone where the silver chain peeked through the fabric. Skin so smooth, insatiable, you could taste it, like you did in September. You had littered his skin with the delicate purple bites, yours soft, barely tainting his complexion, unlike what Mingyu had done to you, so harsh, as if to claim you.

Face buried in your hair, nose pressed to your temple, parted lips brushing your ear, his soft sounds mixing with yours injected straight into your heart. Arms wrapped around you, one under your head, the other holding your waist, his fingers pressing into your skin, tangling with your hair. Knees pulled back, legs wrapped around him, you held him close to you, kept him against you, moving with him, that cool silver chain like ice against your skin that burned with a fire you haven’t felt since.

How you longed to have his curls wrapped around your fingers like they were that night. How you yearned to have him whisper the things he did to you, both filthy and sweet, talking you through every second when words were unbeknownst to you.

You wanted to go back, wanted to be there, just you and Vernon in the locker room, at Nasara. You should’ve stayed, you shouldn’t have let those girls do what they did, shouldn’t have come home, shouldn’t have cursed out your therapist and stormed out of her office, shouldn’t have agreed to go out with Mingyu that night in December.

“You’re doing it again,” he whispered, pulling you from your thoughts. Flickering your eyes up to his, not realizing how low they had drifted, he smiled, lips pressed together tight. “Don’t look at me like that,” he said quietly in a silly voice to make you giggle. It worked. “Come on, upstairs, you’re going to your room.” 

Starting toward the elevators around a corner, your words whirled him right around. “Damn, punished for looking at you? Putting me in time-out?”

“Stop,” he snickered, waving you in front of him. You reached a hand out, but he pulled his into his chest. “Nope,” he popped the P, “You lead, I follow. No touching allowed.”

“Damn,” you said, slapping the arrow pointing up on the wall when you reached the hall of silver doors. “I am being punished.” Shooting him a side eye, you both broke into fits of laughter. Stepping into the space four tiny walls big, he placed you against one side and took up the other, pressing the number for your floor. Your eyes narrowed, studying him where he stood only feet apart from you. “How do you know where I am?”

His smile never faltered. “Because I am on the same floor.”

Your jaw dropped. “This whole time?” He slowly nodded his head. “What the fuck, no one told me?” A laugh escaped him in a breath as he looked up at the red numbers flashing on the wall. “Right,” you whispered, catching on. “Guess I didn’t need to know. That would’ve been weird.”

He turned his gaze toward you. “Why would it be weird?”

You blinked at him, unsure how to go about this answer. “I mean, we weren’t talking, and no one knew about us, we could’ve kept on going like we didn’t even know each other and no one would think twice about any of it.” His eyes softened. “Plus, you’ve said it, I have a… boyfriend, so why would I need to know where you’re staying? As much as I want to-”

He held up a hand, “Isla,” cutting you off before you spewed out things you shouldn’t be saying at the moment. The only person who knew to cut you off before you said something you didn’t want to say out loud. The elevator dinged, the doors pulling open. “It’s okay,” he said, following you out onto the carpeted hallway, sticking to your side as you walked the stretch a mile long. “Don’t do that with me.”

“Do what?”

“Your nervous rambling thing,” he whispered, looking down at you.

Right.

He knew your thoughts before you thought them.

“We’ll get through this,” he said. “This whole… start of whatever. It’ll work itself out.”

You paused your walk, ceasing his in the process. With a quiet sigh he turned to watch you. “So, you’re still upset?” The raise of his eyebrows was all you needed. “Okay,” you breathed, shaking your head, walking past him. He had to jog twice to catch up to your side.

“Iya,” he half laughed.

“No,” you said, shrugging. “Just needed confirmation. I fucked up, I know that. You’re upset, I know that. How do I fix it, I don’t know that.”

“It’s not that- I just-” Stuttering an ungodly amount of times, he groaned. “This is a good start.”

“What? Me drunkenly crying to you in your car for a half hour?”

He put a hand on your shoulder and your heart leapt into your throat. You looked up at his small smile. “Talking to you.”

You wanted to reach up and take his hand. Wanted to hold it, pull him closer, maybe even wrap an arm around him and hug him, but you knew he wouldn’t let you. It’s like Ryujin said, he’s too good of a guy. Turning the corner down an adjacent hallway, two voices arguing back and forth grew louder, echoing off the walls of the hotel hall. The two of you froze in place, both of your faces expressing your shock.

“I wasn’t lying to you,” your brother said to Mingyu who stood two inches from his face. Your stomach did cartwheels when your boyfriend who towered over DK whipped his head to the left and took in the scene before him. Vernon never moved faster, both hands flew into his pockets.

Taking a step back from your brother, Mingyu dropped his chin and sent the most chilling glare to the boy beside you. “What the fuck?” His deep voice bounced off the walls. Sucking in a deep breath, it left your lungs all too fast. You gave Vernon the quickest glance, then hurried down the carpet with him trailing many, many feet behind. “Are you drunk?” Mingyu asked as you approached his side, his death glare hitting Vernon once more. “What’d he do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” you said. “He brought me here. That’s it.”

He blew air through his lips, a snarky smile appearing right after. “Sure,” he said. “Like I believe that. The pictures online were cute.”

“What pictures?” you whispered, squinting up at him.

DK placed a hand on your arm, his eyebrows all flipped over. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to shake him off, but not with this Mingyu in front of you. “I’m fine, why?”

“You didn’t come back,” he said, tilting his head. “I said come back.”

“What’s the truth, Isla?” Mingyu put a hand to your shoulder, both of them holding onto opposite sides of you. Looking up at him, six feet, two inches tall, you gulped. His eyes were pointed, angry. “People are saying you were flirting with anything that walked, then he came and put you in his car. Took you a while to get back here, didn’t it? I know what you’re like when you’re drinking, what happened?”

Lips parting, face screwing up, you shook your head and scoffed. “And what am I like when I’m drinking?”

He grit his teeth and leaned over you, “A bitch in heat.”

“Okay,” DK raised his voice, pulling you away from Mingyu, stepping between the two of you. Without touching his teammate he held a hand toward his chest. “You’re drunk,” he said, then gestured to you, “You’re drunk,” he glanced at Vernon who had his own anger growing beneath the surface, “You can go, thank you, for everything, for calling me, thank you.”

He didn’t move. Mingyu started running his mouth again, nothing but bullshit about you and Vernon spilling out of it, him using your feelings against you, things you told him in complete sober confidence.

“You know, maybe you should’ve never told me you loved him, ‘cause how the fuck am I supposed to believe anything you say to me now?” His ears were burning red. His hands flew around a mile a minute. Pressing your hands to your middle, all you could do was stare at him. You didn’t tell Vernon you told him that. “You skip out on a night to celebrate with me, to be with him? Did you think I wouldn’t see it? It’s everywhere, Daya was the one to show me. I left the bar so fast, I came right here, I ran into you,” he tapped DK’s chest with a finger and you swore you could hear the way your brother gasped, “And you tell me that she was in trouble? That he helped her?”

“He did,” DK said steadily, not allowing his emotions to get the best of him while he stood between you and your raging boyfriend.

Mingyu tipped his head back and laughed. “Did he?” He shot his glare toward you. “Or did you fuck him in the car like I know you would want to?”

“Mingyu,” DK warned. Tears brimmed your eyes.

“Some guys at the bar were bothering me,” you whispered, fighting back a sob. DK reached a hand backward and grabbed onto one of yours. You stepped closer to him, fitting behind his frame. “He got me out of it, he helped me like DK said he did.”

“Bothering you?” he asked, and you nodded, slipping your bottom lip between your teeth. “Guys were?” You nodded again and he smirked. “That’s what you get for going without me.”

“She can do whatever the fuck she wants, you’re not her keeper, Mingyu,” Vernon spoke up, his voice matching your boyfriends in strength. “It wasn’t her fault. Those guys were creeps. I was just keeping her safe. I didn’t do anything else but get her out of a situation that could’ve been really bad.”

“What, you want me to thank you?” Mingyu curled his lip. “You’re not getting shit from me, I don’t care what you did. We’ve been perfect all this time, and now you two wanna screw it up.” A huff left your brother, but he couldn’t find the words to say. You could only imagine the look on Vernons face. “Isla, let’s go,” he said to you, trying to move around DK, but you moved with your brother as he took a step backward. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Mingyu,” DK said with utmost patience.

“Nah,” he sneered, trying to move around him again. “Let’s go, Isla.”

DK actually put his hand to his chest this time, and you swore Mingyu was going to blow his top. “Mingyu,” he said, louder. “She’s going to stay with me tonight. You can see her tomorrow.”

Jaw clenched, Mingyu looked from your brother, to you, to Vernon, then back to you. “Is that really what you want?” he asked. “To stay here, with your brother, when you could come with me?”

DK squeezed your hand, hoping you would answer the way he suggested, the way he advised. Blinking through tears, everything blurry now, you nodded ever so slightly and Mingyu groaned, obnoxiously loud, making you jump.

“Fuck both of you,” he spat at DK and Vernon, pushing past you, knocking into your brothers shoulder on purpose. Turning to watch him walk down the hall, DK kept you behind him, allowing you to watch over his shoulder. He towered over Vernon, leaned over him as he passed him, but your best friend didn’t so much as flinch. “You try anything and I’ll have your ass back down in triple A before the season starts.” 

The three of you were silent until he disappeared around the corner.

“He can’t do that,” DK said to Vernon, the two sharing a slight smile. “Even if he could, I wouldn’t let it happen. A lot of us wouldn’t.” Tears spilled over onto your cheeks, a gasp ripping through your chest. DK put you in his arms and walked you towards the door to his room, motioning toward Vernon to come with him. “Only if you want to,” he said, unlocking the door with the key from his pocket. “I just want clarity.”

Within twenty or so minutes the story had been told. You sat on the edge of DK’s bed while the two boys sat on the couch, a foot of space between them. Vernon let you do most of the talking, he only popped in when some details needed polishing, when he appeared at the scene of you at the bar, and then the journey to the car.

“We just talked for a while,” you said with a raise of your shoulders.

DK loosed a breath and sat back into the couch cushions. “Thank god,” he whispered. You and Vernon shared a look, then shot it toward him. “I thought you two were never gonna speak.” 

“What?” You and Vernon asked at once.

DK laughed. “The staring, it was driving us all crazy.”

“Us?!” You both said at once, again, laughing soon after. 

“Me, Shua, Kwan,” he said, thinking to himself. The three names were enough to have you laughing harder, but then he kept going, making you flop backward onto his bed. “Jihoon, Melody, most of the guys who came with us last night…”

“Okay,” you raised an arm in defeat, “We get it.” Sitting back up you were greeted by a solemn face, eyes full of sorrow. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Your brows furrowed. “For what?”

“For not going with you,” he said. “I shouldn’t have let you go alone.”

Sliding your hands down your thighs to your knees, you squeezed them and shook your head. “I’m a big girl, Deeks, it’s okay.” His eyes narrowed, telling you it was not okay. The group of guys aside, he still sent you up to a bar by yourself. He wouldn’t even let you drink beneath his roof at home in Iloa, and he let you wander up to a bar by yourself in a room full of strangers. “Don’t do that to yourself,” you whispered. “I know better, I could’ve listened to you.”

He glanced to the floor. Giving Vernon a sideways glance before he looked back to you, he pulled his lips together. “Jagiya,” he spoke with all the care in the world, “I say this because I love you, because of what we’ve been through, and because I care about you more than I can say.” Vernon looked away, toying with his fingers. “You may know better, but,” he paused, shaking his head, “I don’t think your mind knows better. Your brain.”

He had something else ready to say, you could feel it behind his teeth, hear it in his hesitance while he waited for you to react. 

Quiet, letting his words get in your head like they never have before, you think about Diana, that sweet girl you met that day in the stadium. You think about what happened to you tonight at the bar. Looking at Vernon, you think about what’s happened between the two of you, how you could’ve had it all if your brain knew what was best for you.

You could’ve finished school, you could’ve had a degree. You’d still have your friends, you’d still have Vernon, you’d be living for yourself. You’d be showing all the young girls who followed you, like Diana, that it was possible to achieve things for yourself, that you didn’t need someone else's name to validate your own, family or not.

If your brain knew what was best for you you wouldn’t need to sip the alcohol, you wouldn’t need to get tipsy to feel happy, to not feel anxious. It wouldn’t have ruined relationships, ruined a future you were once kind of excited for.

He would say all of this, you knew that. He’d bring up every single one of these points, but he didn’t have to. They were already in your head. Him speaking up about it would only make the guilt worse.

“We’re here for you, Isla,” DK said with a nod. He looked at Vernon who returned his glance. “Right?”

Sitting backward, smoothing his hands over his legs, Vernon released a breath and looked your way. “We’ve spent a lot of time talking about this,” his voice was soft, warming your cheeks, “You and me. Mostly on the good days.”

A sigh escaped you, turning into a gasp as tears filled your eyes once more. “Good days? I’m at the point where my days are separated by good and bad?” DK leapt from the couch to sit by your side, grabbing onto your hands. Vernon sat forward, edging the couch. 

“I know you remember talking about it,” he smiled, continuing on like you weren’t crying into you and your brother's hands. “We would fuck around at the library, trying to not get in trouble sneaking around the rooms and floors we weren’t supposed to be in. You would tell me you were feeling good, that you felt proud of yourself, that you always wanted to feel that way.” He watched you with eyes full of love. “You were excited about a tomorrow.” 

“I was,” you whispered, leaning against your brother's shoulder.

Vernon, smiling, shut his eyes for a second. “You were,” he lowered his brows, “That was my girl. I wanted her happy, I wanted her to feel good, but it didn’t matter what I wanted. You needed to want it for yourself, and on the days that you did, I thought… Finally.”

You rolled your eyes. “And then I disappointed you, every time, I know how it goes.”

“You didn’t disappoint me,” he whispered. “Far from it. You fought, and you still do, and I’m proud of you for that.”

DK wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I’m proud of you, too.”

“Guys,” you whispered. “I suck.”

DK and Vernon shared a look.

“Does she suck?” DK asked.

Vernon raised a brow and glanced about the room. “Hm,” he hummed. “No, I don’t think she does.

“That’s funny,” your brother said. “I don’t think she does either.”

“I think she needs to drink some water, maybe go to sleep,” Vernon said, teetering his hands side to side, weighing the options sarcastically. DK nodded along, humming with approval.

“Maybe talk about this tomorrow?” your brother suggested. “After a coffee and some good breakfast?”

Vernon slapped a hand to his stomach, groaning in delight. “Ugh, breakfast, you’re so right.”

They kept going until you were laughing, your tears coming to a close for the night.

“I love you a lot,” DK said to you, shaking you gently.

Vernon glanced to his hands, rubbing them together. “Yeah, so do I,” he whispered.

SIlence surrounded the three of you, all of you taking the time to let the words spoken sink in, marinate around you, within you. 

They were right, you knew they were.

Even if your brain couldn’t grasp it, the part that still wanted to cling to Mingyu for whatever reason even after what had happened in the hallway, they were right.

Standing up, your brother following, you held open your arms and he fell right in, slinging his around your back. “I love you,” you mumbled into his shoulder. “Thank you, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered, rubbing a hand in circles between your shoulder blades. “I’m sorry for not being there tonight. For only paying attention when I thought you’d been gone for too long.” Grabbing his shirt in fistfulls to insinuate your ‘It’s okay’, you pulled away from him and gave him half a smile.

Turning around to Vernon who had stood up, you pressed your hands into your thighs and took a deep breath. He did the same. But, then he opened his arms, and he dipped his chin down, offering the space to you. 

It was embarrassing really, how fast you flew into his hold, how quick you were to throw your arms around his waist and how hard you squeezed him. Burying his face in your neck, one hand to your hair, the other around you, he took a deep breath you could feel, you could hear, and the tears found their way back to your eyes. Having sobered up a bit since the bar, you could comprehend it this time, how it felt to hold him, touch him, have him touch you, hold you. 

You wanted to live here. 

He knew you. He loved you. He never judged you.

He was able to say it all with the way his lips brushed against your cheek. Not a kiss, but the softest touch, one barely noticeable.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back, and he smiled.

“I know.”

Within the next ten minutes Vernon and DK were shaking hands at his door and you were changing in your room, waddling back to your brother's room, tucking yourself into one side of his bed. He joined you in minutes, tossing you a bottle of water before turning off the lights and taking his side of the bed. Shuffling beneath the sheets, the both of you getting comfortable, feeling like you were children all over again, you were finally able to rest.

It was quiet for a while, minutes ticking by in silence until you whispered, “I have to break up with Mingyu,” and your brother giggled a little too loud.

Your phone was dead when you woke up.

Surprisingly, you were not.

Able to wiggle your fingers and toes, move your arms and bend your knees, you could sit up without wanting to vomit all over yourself. And, you were wearing clothes!

That didn’t mean you felt fantastic.

The atrocious post-sex fatigue wasn’t there, but the need for a mimosa was.

Through the kitchen and down a little hallway lived the bathroom. The shower was running and the quietest voice, singing something you couldn’t make out could be heard.

DK.

You were in his room, swallowed by his pillows. Thank god. He and Vernon got you here, they helped you, and the conversation they had with you rang in your ears, echoed within your head. It was time to do better. It was time to be better. Before something awful happened.

You’d consider what happened between you and Vernon to be awful enough, you weren’t quite sure it could get worse until it did. You were tired of them having to clean up your messes. It’d been growing incredulously exhausting letting people down, giving them hope only to rip it away within hours. 

Everything you wanted was in front of you, waiting for you, hoping for you.

This time, you weren’t going to screw it up.

The shower shut off, but the humming continued. DK strolled out in a t-shirt and shorts moments later, his wet hair pushed backward to dry. Wandering about the room for a bit, situating his luggage, hanging up his bath towels, going in and out of the bathroom to brush his teeth, you watched him the whole time. It wasn’t until he finally looked your way that he jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus, Jagi,” he hissed, hands flying to his chest. “How long have you been awake?”

Laughing, you sat up and reached for your feet to stretch. “Since the first round of Celine Dion in the shower.” 

Releasing a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “The acoustics are great here, what can I say?”

The sound of his voice echoing in the bathroom played through your head, and you laughed again. Sucking in a deep breath, you belted, “ANNND I-” You were molly whopped by a pillow he threw at your face. “Hey!” Sitting back up like you were, the pillow having totally knocked you backward, thank you best pitcher in baseball, you heaved it his way but it didn’t reach him.

“That was Whitney Houston you uncultured motherfucker,” he joked, both of his brows skyrocketing on his forehead. After another laugh out of you, he cracked one too. “Get it right.”

“So sorry,” you said. “What are you doing today?” you asked, watching him kick around his shoes, looking for a matching pair. 

“Hanging out with you, I thought,” he said, giving a look.

“It’s your day off and you want to spend it with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, sitting down on the end of the bed to tie his sneakers. 

Pushing the covers off of yourself you slipped out of bed and stretched your arms over your head, occasionally remembering some of the exercises you learned in class once upon a time. “I just thought you’d want to do something else,” you breathed, reaching down to touch your toes.

“Hm, I don’t,” he said and you huffed a laugh. “Breakfast, remember? We’re going out, some place fun, during the day.”

Standing up straight, you smiled. “Got it.”

He went back to fidgeting with his shoes. “Anything else you want to do while we’re here? Have you shopped at all?” You rounded the bed, ending up at his side. “I remember those stores you like down by the beach, maybe we go down there?” Looking up at you, his eyes traveled from your smiling face to your outstretched hand. “Yes?”

“Can I use your phone for a second?”

He glanced backward at the bed. “Where’s yours?”

“Dead,” you said, wiggling your fingers. “Hand it over.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just have to send a text,” you shrugged, “And, I’m not really sure I wanna charge mine. Could be interesting to keep it off all day, not go on it, to not be stuck in a forever scroll.”

Blinking up at you, he thought about it, then nodded. “Fair,” he muttered, wiggling the phone from his back pocket, slapping it onto your palm.

“You have Mingyu’s number right?” you asked, swiping open to his messages, the first thread in his inbox from Vernon last night. Groaning, he stood and adjusted his shirt.

“Are you kidding me,” he nearly whined, “Charge yours if you’re gonna talk to him. I will not let you two converse through my phone.”

Creating a new thread with him, you typed out a simple message and hit send, placing the phone back into your brother's hand. “There,” you said with a smile. “Let me get ready, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He watched you scramble your way out of his room, the door shutting with the loudest slam. Out of pure curiosity he glanced at his phone screen and the message that had been read the second it was sent.

[dk]: This is Isla. Phones dead. We need to talk at some point today, please. I’m going out with DK today, don’t let it piss you off.

Every eye in the room pointed towards you. Doors to the restaurant closing behind you, the place quaint, bright, airy, every head seemed to turn, and not because you were standing with four members of the Lions starting line up. They didn’t look at your brother, Vernon, Joshua, or Seungkwan. They stared at you.

Parents of families, groups of girls your age, couples tucked into booths, everyone wide eyed like they were fighting to look at anything else, anyone else, but they couldn’t.

“Just five of us,” DK smiled at the hostess who nodded toward him after glancing at you over his shoulder. Wearing his smile as he turned to face you and your friends, without mentioning the elephant in the room, he muttered, “I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Seungkwan yawned, pressing the back of his hand to his lips. His blonde hair dusted his lashes, the cut short in the back yet longer over his forehead. With your arms folded over your chest your eyes scanned the room, then ended on him doing the same thing. Shooting you a side eye for a second, he threw an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into him.

He didn’t have to say anything else.

Following the hostess to a table on the far left side of the restaurant, far away enough from the people staring yet close enough to not feel alienated, the boys situated themselves into seats, Seungkwan pulling one out for you beside Vernon and himself. You were to be sandwiched between them.

Wandering out of your room this morning in a leather mini skirt and a vintage Haos sweater your mother wore in her early twenties, the three boys greeted you with wide smiles and squishy hugs. A complete surprise, you squeezed them all, even Vernon. He saved himself for last, letting the other three lead the way out of the hall so he could hug you tight.

You assumed this breakfast was for you and your brother, but he had said it himself, they were your friends too, and it was evident in the way they cared for you just as DK would. Sitting here at the table they helped you fix a cup of coffee, helping each other too, they spoke quietly and asked you a thousand questions to distract you from the people whispering in the booth behind you.

Vernon fit right in. After two weeks you assumed he would, you said it since the start, this was his element. He and Seungkwan had the most chemistry, the two had inside jokes already they weren’t afraid to crack across your lap as they leaned over the table with grins miles wide to laugh at one another. DK and Joshua, older than the three of you, got stuck deep in their own discussion that Seungkwan had to kick them under the table when the waitress appeared to take your orders.

“Oh!” The woman turned right around after Seungkwan handed over the menus stacked together. “I forgot to tell you, we have drink specials, bottomless mimosas, brunch cocktails, if you check out that little menu right here,” she pointed to a short leather triangle in the center of the table, “It has everything on it.”

DK reached for it and handed it to her with a dazzling smile. “Thank you, but we’re good,” he said with a curve of his brow. “More coffee would be great, though.”

“Please,” Seungkwan groaned, dragging his hands over his cheeks. Joshua cracked a laugh.

“No problem,” the woman smiled, then she was off.

“Puh-lease,” Joshua mocked Seungkwan, propping his elbows on the table, smacking his palms to his cheeks. Gaze dancing between them, a smile on your lips, they bickered and laughed like siblings, your brother included. You were so enthralled by the entertainment in front of you, surrounding you, you barely noticed the finger poking your knee.

Vernon sat back in his chair, his legs extended in front of him. He didn’t look at you when you looked at him, but he pulled his hand back into his lap and the tiniest smile graced his lips. 

“Yes?” You kept your voice quiet, just between the two of you.

He slid his eyes over to you. “I missed you.”

It was impossible to fight the heat that rose to your cheeks. “You just saw me last night.”

He nodded, glancing down to his lap. “Not just since last night,” he whispered. Taking a breath, he looked at you and said, “I’ve been missing you.”

A breath shot through you, forcing you to look around at your brother and your friends who were paying no mind to the two of you, the three of them in their own world, Joshua and Seungkwan arguing over something while DK lost his shit.

“I missed you too,” you whispered, sitting your chin in your hands, propping your elbows on the table. Opening your shoulders to him, he met your eyes and held them, life moving on around the two of you, voices echoing past you like they were nothing. “Thanks for last night,” you said. “I owe you.”

He twisted his brows and gave you a look. “Owe me? Shut up, you don’t owe me anything.”

“How many times are you gonna save my ass without me returning the favor?”

Eyes softening, he breathed through a laugh and shook his head. “Something’ll come up eventually, I-”

“Mingyu?”

The near shout of his name made the entire table freeze. Vernon, mid sentence, leaned forward to catch a glimpse of the booth behind you, DK doing the same. Seungkwan slid a hand over the wood and wrapped his fingers around your arm. Joshua sat tall in his chair, barely moving as he surveyed the situation. 

“He’s not here,” Vernon muttered, and you released a breath you’d sucked in. DK relaxed as well, shaking his head. “They’re just talking.”

“Do not like how that just set us all off,” Joshua mumbled, elbowing your brother in the shoulder. Furrowing your brows, giving them each a look, you end with your brother.

“What do we all know?” you questioned, reaching for the glass of water in front of you. DK poked his tongue between his lips, his eyebrows popping as he sat forward and glanced to his friends for help. “We have plenty of time,” the way you smiled made them all shudder, “Explain yourselves.”

About an hour later, half empty plates scattered over the table, empty coffee mugs lined in front of Seungkwan, each boy had given you their spiel about the boy you still could call your boyfriend. DK had expressed his grief to his friends at the start of your relationship, which in turn had you learning today that none of them really enjoyed the idea of you and Mingyu together, or the idea of Mingyu in general. Him, that side of the team, Hoshi and Minghao, they didn’t judge them for who they were or what they did, but ultimately decided amongst themselves that it was the principle of it all. 

Values aligning, morals clashing, something like that.

Vernon didn’t have much to add, he simply listened, observed, but nodded along, having his own personal grief over Mingyu, only actually having known the boy for two weeks.

“So, we all don’t like him,” you said, tossing your napkin onto your empty plate. It was the first meal you’ve been able to finish in two weeks. DK, shoveling food into his mouth, rolled his eyes.

“Depends on who you’re asking for, and under which circumstances,” Joshua said, nodding at the same time as Seungkwan.

“Agreed,” the blonde pointed to his teammate. Wiping his hands with a napkin he sipped the rest of his umpteenth coffee and shook his head. “As a part of our team? As an outfielder? A baseball player? Good god, he’s unbelievable, we wouldn’t be what we are without him.” Both DK and Joshua exchanged a look of agreement. “But, when it comes down to him and what he does with his,” Seungkwan glanced at you momentarily, “Private relationships, or what should be private… I can’t get behind it.”

“Easy for you to say,” you said, sipping your water. “If you were with someone you’d have people doing the same thing to you. You’re single.”

Seungkwan smiled. “No, I’m not.” Joshua laughed aloud, slapping a hand to his mouth.

Jaw dropping, you flashed him a glare before shoving Seungkwan's shoulder. “What?!”

“Don’t you say a word,” Seungkwan whispered, leaning toward you.

“How do you not get blown up everywhere? This is like Woozi and Melody all over again, he hid her for like two years!” Your hands flew a mile a minute. “Is it just ‘cause it’s me? My parents? My brother?” Throwing a hand toward him, he frowned. “Sorry,” you said, rushed as anything. “I just don’t get it.”

Wearing a solemn face, Seungkwan rested a hand on your shoulder. “Because it’s what he wants.”

“Values, morals,” Joshua waved a hand around, “Blah, blah, blah.”

Exactly as Ryujin had said.

And Vernon.

Setting your glass down, you folded your hands on your lap and nodded. “Good to know. I’ve been blind.” A hand touched your shoulder, Vernon’s. He squeezed you, trying to reassure you, but somehow it didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. Flashing him a pout, he leaned closer to you and shook his head.

“Don’t do that to yourself,” he whispered.

“And that’s why your boyfriend cheated on you!”

It was those girls from the booth behind you, the ones who had been talking about you and your friends this entire time. They were standing up to leave, no older than you, dressed for the beach. Champagne glasses covered their table.

Whipping yourself around, Vernon retracting himself entirely, you finally opened your mouth. “Can you leave us the fuck alone?”

Her friends were trying to pull her out, they clearly wanted out of the place, when the boys turned around it was written all over their faces. They wanted nothing to do with what was about to happen. “You’re here like you don’t care,” she laughed, loud, acquiring eyes from around the place. “With him,” she sneered in Vernon’s direction, “We know what you did, Moon Isla.”

“I didn’t do shit,” you said with a smile. 

The girl, staggering backward as one of her friends finally got her to move, cackled one last time before she shouted, “Your boyfriend did!”

Heart sinking into your gut, you whirled towards the table and searched your pockets for your phone before remembering it was dead, and in DK’s hotel room. The boys whispered amongst themselves, their own eyes questioning shit while yours bugged out of your head. Looking from Vernon to Seungkwan, unsure of what to do with yourself, you finally decided to hold out your hand toward your brother. He knew in an instant what you wanted, the thing that lived on Do Not Disturb in his pocket.

The second he dropped it into his hand you were swiping for the internet, but not before checking his messages to see if Mingyu had ever answered your message.

[Kim Mingyu]: As soon as possible please.

You didn’t bother to answer it. You didn’t need his excuses, his empty words. Social media told you everything you needed to know, pictures flooded the feed with every refresh, people posting more and more as time passed. Your body went numb, fingers cold, stomach sick. Heart thudding between your lungs, breath quickening with each exhale, you threw the phone down onto the table and pressed your hands to your eyes, begging your conscious self not to sob.

Seungkwan took the phone, open on a photo, and gasped. Within seconds his arms were around you, he was whispering things to you, calming you while the phone got passed around and the boys riled themselves up. Angry, sad, betrayed, overwhelmed, you felt it all, but what you didn’t feel was blindsided. You’d seen this coming. Your strategic brain, what put you onto Yeji’s plan back at Nasara, had it figured out since Day One.

And, come to think of it, as much as this upset you, embarrassed you, Mingyu finally did one thing right. Shoving his tongue down Daya’s throat was about to do you so many favors.

home;run masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[bellamyblake]

Why we're here

After Roan stabs Bellamy, he doesn't leave him behind but instead decides to bring him to Polis with Clarke thinking it will help his case with the commander. Bellamy can barely walk though and Clarke tries to support him and help out any way she can even if she has to put her own life on the line. Angst and feelings ensue.

Canon divergence,Hurt/Comfort, Angst;

"Come on, just keep going, he'll let us stop soon." Clarke whispered in his ear as she kept supporting him, feeling his body get heavier in hers, his breath fanning her ear, his fingers digging into her back.

They were walking through the forest, Roan ahead of them, tugging a rope that was wrapped around Bellamy's right hand and Clarke's left, leaving them to support each other with the other two as they struggled to follow him.

"Clarke, I-" he said desperately in a way she had heard him only once before, three months ago when they were standing outside Arkadia and he was begging her to come inside.

She didn't want to look in his eyes but knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself either-when she did, she felt like she was going to drown and pulled them to a stop, digging her feet into the dirt and feeling Roan's rope cut through her wrists as the same happened with Bellamy's left hand that was a lot more lifeless than hers.

This definitely wasn't how she expected their first meeting to go after such a long time-she felt like she caught a glimpse of Kane, Indra and Monty while Roan was dragging her away from the Ice nation army but she had no idea Bellamy would come into the old metro station and try to save her.

That stupid idiot.

Roan had caught up on his heavy steps, he was an amazing shooter and a good hunter, she had been out with him many times while they struggled to feed the kids back on the early days but today he had been loud, reckless, he wasn't checking his surroundings, he was just running to her.

That idiot. That goddamn stupid idiot.

When she saw how easily Roan pushed him down and stabbed him in the leg with such intensity, twisting the knife into his thigh hitting him several times in the face, she felt like she just wanted to throw herself over him, protect him like he had tried to do for her, but she had been tied up and nothing would help.

Then Roan hit her too and for a moment she lost consciousness until she woke up, surely not that long after, maybe half an hour, from him shaking her shoulders and pushing her up. Bellamy was only halfway there but he was sitting as well-he seemed pale, his face was sweaty, his leg was bleeding.

"What's going on?" she had asked him while he tied the ropes around her and his hand.

"We're going to Polis and I'm bringing both of you to the commander. At first I didn't recognize who he was but when I saw how hard you were fighting for him, I knew this must be Belomi from Skaikru, the man who helped you destroy the mountain." Clarke's heart sank in her chest and she wanted to punch herself for being so stupid.

"Lexa will be thrilled when I show her who I got out there-Wanheda and her precious soldier." Bellamy groaned next to her and looked at him from under his angrily furrowed eyebrows.

"Fuck you!" he spat in his feet and that just provoked Roan even more. He smiled and kneeled down, pressing his hand against his wound and digging his finger in it, making him squirm and lean back. Bellamy groaned loudly but held his ground.

"Stop it!" Clarke begged in the same desperate manner as before but Roan ignored her.

"Next time you say something this stupid or disrespect me, this will be my knife." he threatened before taking his hand off and wiping it in his clothes.

Then he pulled them up and made them stand.

"Come on, you'll help him walk." he told Clarke and gestured between their free hands in the middle-so that was why he had tied them up this way, Clarke realized, he was planning on her being his supporter all this time. He could've let them walk separately but she realized now, that they were standing up why he didn't-Bellamy was barely putting any weight on his leg, his pants were soaked, she could see it even through the dark material and he was already breathing heavily and probably running a fever.

"Are you kidding me? He can't walk, not like this. I need to check the wound." Roan smiled as he pulled their ropes again and forced them to make a step. Bellamy limped hard, then swayed and almost fell-if it wasn't for her fast reflexes, he would've fallen and dragged her down with him. But she managed to wrap her arm around his waist and sneak her body under his arm, propping him up.

"No." Roan said simply "If he falls, I'll kill him and keep going with you so make sure that doesn't happen." and off they went.

Now they were struggling to follow him and not just that, Roan tugged them every time they slowed down. Bellamy tried to put up a brave face for her but he really hurt, she could tell, he was limping very hard and leaning more and more on her.

The problem wasn't just pain-she could see he was handling it as well as he could, he had a high treshold, she realized, something she didn't know but which made sense considering it was Bellamy-he took on everything no matter what it was. The problem was the bleeding which was significant. From what she could tell, Roan hadn't nicked an artery wheather on purpose or not but but he had hit close to it and Bellamy was going to get worse soon.

She had to do something. That's why she forced them to a stop. Roan turned around and looked at her uninterested with her shenanigans.

"Come on!" he pulled the rope but Clarke held her ground and jut her chin.

"We need to stop. He's too weak. I have to bandage the wound." she insisted.

"No." Roan said as simply as before and pulled them again. Bellamy stumbled and because she got distracted, she wavered some of her support and he fell on his knees, groaning loudly. She crouched beside him and covered the wound, feeling the stickness of his blood against her palm immideately.

"He'll die if I don't do something." she insisted and Roan walked back to them.

"Then he dies. I told you I don't care. You are the prize, he's just an addition to it."

"But it's better if he's there too, isn't it? I'm sure it'll help you negotiate whatever it is you want from Lexa if you bring her two throphies instead of one." Roan shrugged but there was hesitation, he could tell that.

"She'll probably kill him anyway."

"She won't. She knows he's the reason we made it in that mountain, he's valuable." Roan laughed a little and looked at her with interest.

"To you maybe. Not to the commander." he was close now, really close and she was eyeing the knife strapped to his leg, the same one he used on Bellamy.

She looked up at him in defiance and knew exactly what she had to do, she swayed left, pretending to try and hit him but instead her heads went to the knife, grabbed it and instead of pointing it at his body, she pressed it to her neck and jut her chin.

"You kill him, you kill me!" she said quietly as her eyes bore holes into his.

Link in reblog

[enbydindjarin]

Look how big his hands are compared to Bella’s😭

[webism]

prt one, prt three

pornstar!satoru who pays for a month of your onlyfans—for research purposes. he needs to find out who this boyfriend of yours is, and figure out a way to get rid of him.

pornstar!satoru who knew it was a long shot, that you might not even show him on your page at all. and of course he got distracted a few times whilst scrolling through your posts, dick rock solid and at attention with each new angle of you of his screen.

pornstar!satoru who, when he finds the more homemade stuff, he’s pathetically jealous of the man that frequents your bed so often. how big his hands look as they lay lovingly over your skin, how in love you look as you suck his cock, how well his tip hits your g-spot over and over and—of course he fucking knows him. a video of you on your back piques his attention, your man in between your legs and lapping at your needy pussy like he’s starved. satoru knows that long hair, that cheeky sexdrunk smile that pulls at his lips while he eats you out, he knows those purple fucking eyes that turn to glance at the camera.

of course it’s pornstar!suguru.

pornstar!satoru who suddenly has his cock out, languid strokes of his fist over his length is nothing to the memories of pornstar!suguru's lips wrapped around his length. who is so enthralled by the knowledge that both him and his former co-star have gotten to feel the flutter of your pussy around their cocks.

pornstar!satoru whos fingers are frantic as he searches for more of you together, and ends up spending way too much money on subscriptions just to watch you get fucked stupid on the same cock that he once did for a film a few years back. who wonders if you feel the same stretch with suguru as you did with him. if you were forced to choose, relationships be damned, who you'd say made you cum harder.

pornstar!satoru whos dick gets impossibly harder at the thought of you not choosing at all. who lets himself picture it, you spread out for both him and pornstar!suguru, your eyes wide at the prospect of taking both of them at once. how he'd take your mouth first, how with each thrust of suguru into your pussy would push you forward onto his cock. how he'd kiss your boyfriend breathless while they're both balls-deep inside of you.

pornstar!satoru who strokes himself along to a video of you riding pornstar!suguru. who times his orgasm just right with your shared one, who goes fucking blind for a moment with the way his climax washes over him. your noises, suguru's noises, the imagined smell of sweat in the air. he moans, a dirty mixture of your name and his, something embarrassing and still he remains steadfast in his lust.

pornstar!satoru who, because he respects himself at least a little, gives himself fifteen minutes for post nut clarity to set in. and when it doesn't, he's texting his agent in the dead of night and very firmly requesting to be booked again

with both of you.

pornstar!suguru who, upon having you home from a particularly tiring shoot, is doting on you with heart-shaped pupils. He's got you laying down with him on the couch, big hands working magic on your sore muscles.

pornstar!suguru who doesn't always ask for details about your shoots. he knows it's just work, hell, he's a pornstar himself, he doesn't need the raunchy details of your jobs to keep himself from spiralling. but something about today feels different. today, you seem uncharacteristically fucked out.

pornstar!suguru who is more than surprised when you're still rearing to get fucked silly that night. you groan about your shoot with a new pornstar, and how his touch is still lingering on your mind. and suguru laughs, because jealousy doesn't come easy to him-- if anything, knowing you're still in his bed at the end of the day just gets him even more worked up.

its when pornstar!suguru bottoms out inside of you, that shared gasp of ecstasy leaving both your lips that you mention how he asked you out for drinks after the shoot. you add on, of course, that you turned him down, but the comment still has your boyfriends interest piqued.

pornstar!suguru who, with a kiss to the corner of your lips and a gentle thrust into you, asks who this admirer of yours is. and just as the names about to leave your lips, his phone chimes on the bed with an email.

an offer. a threesome shoot: him, you, and a second male. it's the best paying shoot he's gotten in a long time. he hasnt quite scrolled down to see who the other talent was, so when you snatch his phone, legs still wrapped around his waist, he catches that smile on your lips. he catches the way you clench around him.

"that's him," you speak, such pretty words from your lips as you turn the screen to show him the name and headshot of pornstar!satoru.

and pornstar!suguru's dick gets impossibly harder.

tags: @meowforluv @p1xlesk1nn @ch3rryistheg @miizuzu @okayiamkassandra

PART THREE HERE!