#turn the bottle and let the drink burn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jarofstyles · 4 days

Text

Appetency

Okay so we've got a bit of a long one. Kinda enemies to lovers if you blink, fuckboyrry turned softrry, dedication galore, hesitant Y/N and confident H, you're gonna love it. This is the first half- the other half is already up on Patreon and will be here later on 💕

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second half and 200+ exclusive writings

Warnings- slight angst, mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cocky h turned into a loverboy... nothing too crazy in this part.

WC- 8.5k

“Why are you every-fucking-where.” Y/N stopped short, glaring at the man across from her. The entire party, she had been trying to avoid him- but he wasn’t letting that be at all possible.

Harry grinned widely at that, the most obnoxious and infuriatingly pretty smile with those stupid dimples. Leaning against the wall as he studied her for a good moment, there was no hiding the not so casual enjoyment he got out of flustering her.

Finally, he broke the silence, standing up from his casually cool stance on the wall. She knew he was going to say something that annoyed her and it was proven as he opened his mouth. "C’mon, don’t be like that. Perhaps you just can't keep me off your mind, baby girl. Can’t stop thinking about me, seeing me everywhere…"

“Ew. Do not call me that.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust for the nickname, walking past him. He followed, of course, because he always did. “Just because we have a few similar friends doesn’t mean you need to be at every social event. I’d love a break from your smug face.”

"You can't possibly be getting tired of this handsome face already…" He protested as he followed behind, his words purposely trying to rile her up. Getting a rise out of her seemed to make his whole day, and usually she would laugh it off but this time… things were different. Finding a spot in the kitchen, he watched as she puttered around trying not to look at him.

His eyes danced with amusement as he added in some more. "Or are you just mad that I always seem to steal the show, love? Not my fault that I'm effortlessly charming and captivating, darling."

“Humble, too.” She snorted, grabbing a drink from the cooler. Buzzballs were not the thing she’d want to choose when she was thinking about the next morning, but they were exactly what she needed when it came to trying to mentally escape right now. “You’re insufferable. Really.” His eyes were on her as she used her nail to pop open the cap.

“So are you going to leave me alone, or follow me around all night?”

Harry chuckled in amusement at her sarcasm, enjoying the way she rolled your eyes at him. "Leave you alone when you look this lovely? Not a chance in hell, darling." He hummed, tapping his own bottle against the counter. He paid no mind to the new people who entered the space, eyes glued on the girl he was talking to. "But as much as I'd love to keep annoying you, I have a much better way we could spend time. Don't you remember, love?" He purred. “I certainly do. It’s hard to forget the way it feels when you moan-” The interruption was instant, her hand gripping onto him.

“Harry…” she hissed, tugging his arm further down the dark hallway and into a bedroom. Who’s? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she had seen where this was going, and she didn’t want him to say it too loudly. Everyone was so god damn nosy and respectfully, she didn’t want to deal with any of that. Not after all she had said.

“Listen.” Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up at him as he stood a little too close. “We hooked up, it was a mistake. You know it.” Though it didn’t seem like he thought so considering how he trailed her ever since. “We… we were a little drunk and I was lonely and you were there.”

Y/N knew she was slightly lying, but she was trying to fool herself. If she said it enough times, maybe she’d believe it. They’d always had chemistry. It was intensity that burned between them, her disdain and his addiction to getting a rise out of her. It was only a matter of time that they’d give into some sort of blow out- but she hadn’t expected it to be as good as it was. It couldn’t happen again.

Harry had that knowing smirk on his face as she tried to deny it all, knowing exactly where this was headed. The thrill of chasing her, of getting under her skin was intoxicating, addicting. He loved making her growl and huff and glare at him, because it meant getting her undivided attention.

"Was it really a mistake?" He asked as he leaned against the door, finally giving her some breathing room. "Or have you just been avoiding me because you couldn't stop thinking about it?"

The truth was that he had been thinking about that night ever since. Multiple times. Before he went to sleep, when he was in the shower.. It was hard not to.

Her jaw clenched, placing her bottle down and crossing her arms. “Look. You’re hot, Harry. You don’t need me to tell you that. You’ve got plenty big of an ego. But I’ve been avoiding you because it can not happen again.”

Y/N knew that Nina was into Harry and she really didn’t want to start any drama. Not that he even seemed remotely into her, but because she acted like he was someone she had dibs on. As gross as it was, she tended to start shit with anyone Harry pursued and she just wasn’t in the season for drama. There were other things to worry about other than start a feud over a man.

He had known about Nina's crush on him, but he didn't care about her. He never had, and he never would. As fucked up as it was, what they had, in his mind, was just a harmless flirtation, nothing more. Y/N knew that, but Nina didn’t. He couldn't have been more clear he had no interest in her, but some people took delusion to heart.

It didn’t matter how good Harry gave it to her last time, how hard her legs shook, how sore she was in the best way. Didn’t matter if his tongue was hot and through and how he’d cleaned her up with it. It couldn’t be repeated.

Harry's smirk only widened as she openly admitted he was attractive, his ego inflating even more. But when she mentioned avoiding him, his smile faltered slightly.

"Why can't it happen again?" He asked, moving closer to her, his eyes darkened. Too close, making her take a deep breath. If there was one thing he would give him, his presence was commanding. Felt. Her body was very familiar with his now, wanting to lean into him, but she fought it.

“Because.” She sighed tiredly. “I really can’t deal with any drama. I’m exhausted, and the last thing I need is that she-devil going after me because she thinks I’m ‘stealing her man.’ “

The man let out a laugh, amused by the comment. Yeah, he knew exactly who she was referring to and found it funny. He knew she could be a drama queen, and he definitely didn't care for her possessive tendencies, but he had told her that they had nothing going on between them and never would.

He stepped closer to her, his greedy hands reaching out to touch her hips, his touch firm. "You're not stealing me, love. She never had me, and she's delusional if she thinks she does." His eyes gleamed with desire as he looked at her, his touch becoming a bit more possessive in his own way. "And I want you, not her."

“Harry, you don’t actually want me.” She groaned in frustration, trying to ignore how her tummy dropped as he pulled her into him, his other hand curling around her jaw. Stupid body, stupid hormones, stupid muscle memory. “You think you do because you like a chase. You don’t actually like me or anything, you like how I fuck.” She said bluntly, glancing up at him.

Harry's smug expression faltered as she protested. He could feel the annoyance, but he also noticed the way her body responded to his touch. There was no denying that. "Is that what you really think?" He asked, his grip on her jaw tightening slightly as he looked down at her. "That I'm just chasing you only for the thrill of the chase, for the sex?"

His eyes darkened, his other hand moving lower on her hip, pulling her flush against him. He could feel her body against his, the softness, the warmth, and he wanted it all back. There had been no way she could tell him that she hadn’t enjoyed it, considering he’d made her cum 3 times, made her gush all over his cock. She’d clung to him, held onto him, whimpered his name. But he’d taken care of her, he had gotten her some pomegranate juice and a snack, helped her tie her hair up, driven her home. When the contact had been nonexistent, he was hoping she was just making him work for it- but that wasn’t all this was to him.

“Yeah.” She furrowed her brows. “Is it not?” Harry wasn’t the relationship type, not usually. Everyone knew that. Y/N had constantly reminded herself that when they’d first met and she had a bit of a crush on him, only to see that he liked to fuck em’ and leave ‘em. It lost the appeal and she had resented him a bit for it.

Was it fair? No. She knew that. But their dynamic had been built on that resentment.

Harry's jaw clenched at her response, frustration and something else flickering in his face. He loosened his grip on her slightly, his gaze searching her eyes, trying to convey something she obviously wasn’t picking up on.

"And what if I told you that you were wrong?" He asked, his voice low. "What if I told you that there's more to me than just chase and sex?" He tilted his face closer to hers, his hand on her hip keeping her snug. He hadn't realized it himself just how touch deprived for her he actually was. Did she really think it was all just… a game? Had he not proven himself to her that night? Granted, he had maybe fucked up in how he communicated after but… the ball had been put in her court.

He could tell that she was skeptical, but he was determined to make her believe him.

"I want you." He said firmly, his hand on her jaw moving to wrap around the back of her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair. "I want everything. Your body, your mind, your heart." His hand on her hip moved lower, his touch a little needy. "And the fact that I can't have you is driving me insane. Want you to believe me."

“But why?” She sputtered. “All we do is argue. All I do is blow you off and all you do is follow me around to piss me off.”

She had no idea he had his own fascination with her. How he’d silently watched her, observed, saw how she was with other people and wanted that chance to feel that. To have one of those smiles for himself.

Harry shook his head with a light laugh, his grip on her flexing slightly as he stared down at the girl he had been playing cat and mouse with. "Because I'll take the arguing, the blowoffs, all of it, just to be near you. I don't know when it truly started, but you've gotten under my skin, love." He pushed her back against the door, his body pressed against hers, trapping the girl. Looking down at her, his eyes were dark with desire, with honesty. It was a little unsettling.

“Harry.” She swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers stroked over her jaw and down over her throat, tenderness tinging the touches. “It’s not funny if this is a joke. It’s not.”

Harry's let out a tired breath, his touch gentle as he stroked her delicate skin, taking advantage of every touch. He could see that vulnerability in her eyes, and it only made him more determined to prove himself. "M’not joking. " He said firmly. "This is serious, I want you, and m’not giving up until I have you."

“Then you’re gonna have to work for it.” She exhaled sharply, pushing out of his hold and escaping back towards the party.

Y/N was almost fooled into giving in again- but she could give in without a real, true idea of what he was dedicated to. Maybe it was cruel of her to try and write him off as a bit of a slut trying his luck, but she’d never been awarded the chance to get to know him outside of their usual dynamic.

That was why, the next day, seeing him on her front porch had her gasping in surprise. “Shit!” She yelped, keys falling to the wood below her.

He looked good. The night of sleep seemed to refresh him, he’d showered, and he was bright eyed this morning. Determined. Why? She didn’t know. But this was not at all what she had expected when opening her front door. “ You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

"Good morning, love." He greeted her. “Nice to see you this mornin’. You look gorgeous.” That cheeky fucking grin, as usual, tilted on his mouth.

She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow in question. "You didn't answer my question. What are you doing here?"

Harry flashed her a grin, completely unfazed by her skepticism. "I'm here to see you, of course." He said, as if it was obvious. “Silly thing.”

“Why?” She didn’t want to get too huffy with him but he was nearly speaking in riddles and she didn’t have the patience for that. “Are you alright?”

Of course he was amused at how frustrated she looked, finding her impatience obviously endearing. Maybe it was just her, though. Y/N was a bit of a weakness of his, he found. Pushing himself up the final step, he grabbed her keys and handed them back to her, making no effort to pull his hands away from her own.

"I'm fine, love." He hummed casually. "I just wanted to see you." Holding her hands in his, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin. Casual intimacy that slightly caught her off guard.

The girl merely looked at him in confusion. The plan for today had been to go to the grocery shop and do stuff around the house, not entertain the man who had admitted to wanting her last night- but she knew if he was here, it meant he was determined to get his way.

Aka, spending time with her.

“Okay.. So now you saw me.” She said lowly. “Do you want to go home now?”

The sight of her looking so flustered and on edge fueling his determination, he shook his head. "Not yet." He said, his voice low and firm. "M’not leaving until I get some of your time."

Y/N closed her eyes, taking a deep inhale through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. Meditative breathing did wonders, it seemed. Usually. She knew Harry well enough to know that he wasn’t going to let this go. He was going to keep prodding until he understood that he probably had no actual intention of being around her long term. He was looking at her with metaphorical sex goggles on. Yeah, she was good in bed, but that was only a tiny portion of her.

He’d learn eventually.

“Well, I have to go to the store. So…”

Harry watched you closely as she opened her eyes from the attempting to calm herself. It was a little unnerving to know she needed to calm down from such a simple interaction but then again, he had been coming on a little strong. It was his nature, but he tried to relax his stance a bit. No way was he going to let an opportunity to spend time with her be wasted. He was dedicated now, wanting to win her over. "You're going to the store?" He leaned in closer. “Looks like I'll just have to come with you, then."

Y/N sputtered as he took her handbag and totes from her, tucking them under his arm as the other held her hand.

“C’mon.” He said smugly, pulling her towards his car. She followed, confused at how he had just agreed to go grocery shopping with her. Willingly. It wasn’t something he liked doing and she knew that- she somehow had found out one night that he had his delivered- but he seemed eager to do this with her.

The last thing she expected was for him to open the passenger door and help her inside, but he did. Like it was second nature, opening it up and taking her hand to aid her into sitting sound, placing her bags on her lap.

Harry's smirk widened as he scooped up her handbag and totes, his grip on your hand firm as he guided her towards his car. He snickered under her breath at her sputtered protest, enjoying her disbelief that he was actually willing to go grocery shopping with her. Like it was some sort of hardship.

Once he had settled her in, he leaned in closer, the smell of cinnamon gum filling her senses. Keeping his stance, his eyes locked on her, his gaze intense. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and it only fueled his determination to make it second nature to her, to expect this sort of thing from him. .

"You look cute this morning." He said, his voice low and smooth. "Did you get much sleep last night?" He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her cheeks felt hot as he tenderly touched her, the softness of it all surprising her. “Um… I did.” The compliment had flustered her too. It wasn’t something she was used to from him. Their usual dynamic was tense on her end and being a pain in the ass with a stupid smirk on his. This sort of treatment was new to her.

“Thanks. You look….” It felt unnatural to compliment him, but she meant it. Strangely enough. All of this was so new to her. “Nice.”

Harry chuckled at the slight hesitation in her words, enjoying the way she was thrown off by his tenderness. One day she was going to accept it. He smiled at her attempt at a compliment, narrowing his gaze at her. "Just nice?" He teased, raising an eyebrow. He placed a light hand on her knee, his thumb stroking her skin in small circles, his touch gentle and comforting.

“Well, handsome? I dunno.” She grumbled. “Just so you know, you’re carrying all the grocery bags. If you insist on coming along you need to be useful.”

"Oh, I can be very useful, love. You jus’ need to find out what else I can off s’all." He said, his hand continuing its caressing on her knee, his touch sending a little jolt through her body "And don’t worry, I’ll carry all the bags. You just worry about picking out what you need."

Harry could see the doubt in her eyes as he reassured her about carrying the bags, and he knew he had to prove it. Not just that, but the whole thing. He hadn’t won her over quite yet, but he would.

Removing his hand from her knee, he ignored how much he missed the touch and stood up straight, standing tall and strong next to the car.

"You don’t believe me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "Just watch, sweetheart. Gonna shock the shit out of you."

——-

Y/N was suspicious.

Harry was… behaving. More than, actually. He was being sweet and polite, borderline charming. Standing beside her as she pushed the cart, grabbing the items at the top shelves, not rushing her at all. He was flirty, sure, but nothing insane that truly made her roll her eyes at him. His voice was soft spoken and held only a tiny bit of the arrogance it usually did… and she liked it.

Who the fuck was this? And what had they done with the normal Harry?

“You’re freaking me out a little.” She mumbled, checking off another thing on her list. “Like, you’re being pleasant. That’s not normal for you.”

"What, I can't be pleasant sometimes?" He teased, giving her a look.

He couldn't help but grin as he watched her check off another item on the grocery list, his eyes roaming freely over her focused expression. He was enjoying this, he realized, enjoying the chance to be close to her more than he would have ever expected. "Maybe I’m just in a good mood today." He said, leaning against the cart.

“It’s just suspicious.” She glanced at him from the side of her eye. “You’re always following me around and trying to get me to snap at you. So excuse me for being a little confused when you’re acting so normal and nice.”

Harry liked working her up and getting reactions out of her, but he liked her. Y/N gave him the tummy butterflies, the excitement, the hot cheeks, all of it. She just didn’t know that- or was heavily in denial. It was his fault, he knew, from never expressing how serious the desires were and expecting her to read between the lines. But fuck, could she blame him? Y/N was a spitfire.

“Can you- fuck.” She groaned. “This can not get any worse.”

Across the aisle, she saw her. Nina. Glaring at the scene of Harry standing a little too close to Y/N, doing a domestic activity like shopping together… It looked like they were way more than friends. This wasn’t something he liked doing and of course, the other girl would know that… So the situation didn’t look too good.

Harry could feel the shift in her mood as she spotted Nina across the aisle, and he tensed up slightly, ready for the inevitable confrontation. Fuck, and they’d been doing so good. Of course, someone had to throw him a curveball.

Good thing he was willing to work for this.

"Relax." He said quietly, his hand squeezing her shoulder reassuringly, thumbing over the fabric. "I'll handle it."

Harry could feel the tension in her body as he held onto her, knowing that she was on edge. He knew Nina could be a handful, and he didn't want her to add to the stress of the situation. Especially after Y/N was seemingly warming up to him.

He took a deep breath and turned to her, his expression neutral but firm.

"Nina." He said, his voice calm and steady- almost bored. "Why are you glaring at us like that?”

Nina’s eyes flicked between the pair, her expression hardening as she spoke. “What are you two doing?” She asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

Harry kept his expression neutral, his hand on Y/N unmoving as he spoke to her. “We’re shopping. Is that a crime?” He replied, his tone cool.

Nina’s lip curled up in a sneer, her eyes narrowing. "Shopping? Is that all?" She asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Awfully domestic, isn’t it?”

Harry chuckled, unruffled by her attitude. "Yes, Nina. We’re just picking up some groceries. Is that so hard to believe?" he challenged, letting her try and intimidate him. It wasn’t going to work.

The girl’s jaw clenched as Harry responded to her, clearly annoyed at the lack of reaction she was getting from him.

She took a step closer, sizing Y/N up with an unpleasant expression. She really needed to not make that face- it was unflattering. “Is this a date or something?” She snapped, her eyes flickering over to Harry.

Harry chuckled at Nina’s question, finding her assumption humorous.

He looked over at the girl he wished would say yes, his eyes filled with amusement. "What do you think, love?” He taunted. Maybe it wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but he didn’t particularly care.

Y/N rolled her eyes. This wasn’t what she wanted out of this interaction. Hell- she never wanted his interaction at all. “We’re shopping.” She said lowly. “And we have to go.”

Nina pursed her lips as her response, clearly unsatisfied with the answer she was given. She never could leave well enough alone. Harry could see her gearing up for another snarky comment, so he quickly interjected.

"She’s right." He said, his tone firm. “We do have to go. Bye." There was no hint of remorse on his face as he motioned for her to get out of the way.

With that, he guided Y/N forward, steering both her and the cart towards the checkout area.

“Christ.” Y/N rubbed her temples. “She’s gonna try and burn my house down. I know it.” She sulked.

Harry chuckled at the outburst. He continued steering the cart towards the checkout area as she went back over the list, a small smile on his lips.

"Don't be so overdramatic." He teased. "She's not gonna burn down your house. She's just jealous."

“Harry, she’s scared like, 4 women away from hanging out anywhere near you completely.” Y/N sighed. “I know you don’t see it as much, but she’s tenacious. I don’t know what’s going to get her to stop, but you need to actually have a conversation with her to tell her you’re not interested. Or whoever ends up being your girlfriend is going to have to deal with her crawling around.”

Harry’s smile faded slightly as she mentioned Nina’s past behavior. He knew she could be intense and possessive, but he didn’t realize the extent of her actions. Considering he hadn’t even slept with her, it seemed like a massive overreaction. Of course there had been natural curiosity over some of the women in their friend circle had gone, but now that question had been answered.

He bit his lip, mulling over the words as he helped her load the groceries onto the checkout belt. "You’re right." He said finally, his voice serious as it broke up the beeping of the items being scanned. "I guess I didn’t realize it was that serious. M’sorry. I don't particularly want to have that conversation, but it needs to be had. I’ll talk to her."

Harry continued helping you with the groceries, lost in thought for a moment before speaking again. "I’ll talk to her soon, make sure she knows for sure me and her are never going to be a thing and if she wants to try and scare off anyone I talk to, she won’t be invited to anything else." He said firmly, his eyes serious.

"But first," he added, breaking the tense air as his tone turned playful again, "We have to get these groceries home. I’m starving."

—

It was safe to say that she was even more confused than she had started off being.

Harry helped her bring the groceries into her place. He helped her unpack. He even fed her cat while she washed the fruit so she could put it away. Helping himself to her house like he had a right to be there, a comfortability that had her a little spooked.

It was hard to accept the thought of Harry actually liking her. First, she hadn’t ever seen him with a serious girlfriend. All she had been exposed to was seeing him fucking around with different people. Secondly, he was always so playful and unserious that internally, the most insecure part of her felt like maybe it was a trick, and it made her more apprehensive of him.

It wasn’t fair of her to be so judgmental when she was not a virgin mary herself; she knew that she wasn’t giving him a proper shot, but it was scary. He was scary, in a way. Maybe it was the idea of how far feelings could go if she gave in, but it felt hard to stop those original emotions she had towards him from coming back.

“Thank you.” She said awkwardly as Harry sat at her breakfast bar. “Um, for helping put away the stuff and bringing it inside. That was really nice of you.”

Harry, who was lounging in a chair at the breakfast bar, chuckled at the awkward gratitude. "S’no big deal." He said, his tone casual. "I’m happy to help."

He leaned back in the chair, his eyes roaming over her face, his favorite thing to do. Watching her was the best part of being around her. He could see the tension in her shoulders and the uncertainty in her expression, and it made him wonder what was going on in that head of hers. Why she was so apprehensive. Yeah, he knew he had a weird dynamic with her before, but no one thought of him as a bad guy.

The longer he looked, the longer Harry could tell that there was something bothering her, and he wanted to find out what. Call it morbid curiosity, but it was needed. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes locked on her pretty face.

"You seem a little tense." He said, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we got back."

She hadn’t expected him to call her out on it, but she should have. Harry was as blunt as they came, and she could have laughed at it if she didn’t feel a little anxious.

“I’m okay.” She wrapped her arms around herself, looking at her feet for a moment the soft green ladybug socks he had given her a laugh over. “I’m a little anxious, I guess. This new dynamic kind of… put me off kilter.” The confession hung in the air before she continued. “I’m used to you being annoying and… I dunno. It’s unfair of me, but I keep getting nervous that this is some joke to you and you’re gonna go back to being obnoxious once I let my guard down.” She winced. “And I’m sorry. That isn’t fair to you when I know I haven’t been the nicest to you either. But I guess you intimidate me a little.”

Harry listened intently as she spoke, his expression softening as she revealed the source of the troubled look on her face. He knew that he had been a bit of an arse in the past too, and he could understand why his sudden change in behavior had thrown her off.

He leaned forward on his hands, his gaze still fixed on the girl’s tense stance, lips rolled into her mouth. "I get it." He said quietly. "And I’m sorry if I intimidated you or made you uncomfortable. That’s the last thing I wanted to do." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly. "And as for this being a joke... it’s not. Not in the slightest. Trust me."

“I guess I’m a little confused too.” She admitted. “Where all of this is coming from. I know we hooked up a few weeks ago, but you didn’t call me or anything after. I wasn’t expecting you to, don’t get me wrong, but then I felt awkward seeing you at all the events and stuff and you were acting normal. I never let you get alone with me on purpose because I didn’t want to hear you tease me for giving into you.”

Harry’s expression soured a bit as she brought up the hook-up. He knew he hadn’t done anything to dispel her doubts about his intentions, and he felt a pang of regret. He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts. How could he explain it without sounding as stupid as he felt? “I know I didn’t call you after, and I should have. I was an idiot… I just… I thought maybe you wanted me to chase a bit, that the ball had been left in your court after I dropped you off at home and… and I didn’t think, honestly.” He ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated sigh escaping his lips.

“You have to understand why I’m a little uneasy.” With arms wrapped around herself, she let herself look back up at him. There was no trace of joking on his features and it did make her feel a tad bit better. “It’s not that I didn’t like… what we did.” It was the best she’d ever had. “But I think I’m not cut out for just hooking up. I don’t regret it, even if I acted like I did.” She decided to give him a tiny bit of her vulnerability to see what he did with it. “I just know that hooking up, for me, never ends well. And I don’t know you really well, Harry.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, nerves shot. The last thing she wanted to do was seem desperate about locking him down or something, but she couldn’t lie to him or herself.

“I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of pressure to want to date me or anything. I’m just trying to lay down a boundary that for me, I think I’m one of those people that really needs an intimate connection and trust with someone. For some reason I trusted you that night, and I know you wouldn’t harm me in that way, but sobered up and standing in front of you, I feel a little apprehensive. Like, I don’t want you to feel any sort of pressure from me, but in order to have me in the way you said you want… it has to have some level of commitment is basically what I’m trying to say.”

Harry listened intently as she laid down the boundaries, his expression thoughtful. He could see the vulnerability in her eyes and in the way she fidgeted with her shirt, and it tugged at his heart in a way he hasn't felt before. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel any sort of regret and he was glad she hadn’t so far, but he had to appreciate her laying out the law here. It gave him direction on where to go. When she finished speaking, he took a moment to process the words before responding. He can feel the seriousness of the conversation, and it's clear that she wasn’t making demands lightly.

He took a deep breath, his own vulnerability on display in his honest gaze. It was imperative to him that she understood how much he got it. How dedicated he would be to it if given the chance. "I understand." He said quietly, licking over his bottom lip. "I understand that you need a committed relationship, darling. I also understand that you need trust and intimacy in order to get there." he added, his voice soft.

He took a moment to organize his thoughts, then continued speaking. It should be laid out in front of her. “You know, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… about us, I mean.”

“What do you mean?” She asked quietly, taking the moment to look him in the eye. It was the most serious she had ever seen him. Usually he had that smirk on his face, so smug or teasing, he’d be poking and prodding at her to get a reaction- but nothing about this interaction was insincere. It was almost off putting to see him this way.

Harry's gaze met hers, his eyes intense. "I mean that I've been thinking about us in a more serious way." he admitted. He took a deep breath, his expression tentative. "I know I've been kind of hot and cold with you… and I know that I've played games in the past. But after we hooked up… I really couldn’t stop thinking about you. How different we were like that… How good it felt. So I want you to know that... I don’t want to play games with you. I want t’be serious about this."

Y/N hadn’t expected that answer. In all honesty she thought he’d reject her, say he wasn’t into it and keep it moving. That was what she was prepared for- not this. That sort of confession had her realizing that maybe she really didn’t know him at all. She knew some parts, sure, but seeing him like this was brand new. This man in front of her was a familiar stranger, at least this new side.

“I’d have to get to know you better.” She brushed her hair behind her ear, giving him a tentative look. “And it would be a little slow. I think I could give you a chance, though. I’ve been unfair to you, I think. I feel like we… kind of got off on the wrong foot.”

Harry lets out a small sigh of relief, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’m okay with slow.” he says, his voice sincere. “I’m willing to work for it.”

He leaned back a bit, giving her a little more space as a hint of his usual playfulness returned to his features.. “And I think you’re right… we got off on the wrong foot. But I’m glad we’re taking the time to get to know each other now.”

——-

——

Harry was coming over again.

It was strange. Since they’d agreed to explore something romantic, seriously, he had changed. Not completely, not to the point where she wondered who he was before, but enough to make her soften up. Hints of him being a pain in the ass we’re still there. But he was… sweet. Genuine. A little silly in a cute way that she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy before.

One of the biggest shocks of all, was the fact that he was so gentle with her. He handled her with care, even if he was a little overly touchy. She was getting used to it because she found herself liking it, but he was the first guy to really be a bit of a clinger.

That was the last thing she had ever expected from him.

His touches were soft and sweet and he looked at her with this little twinkle in his eye that she knew he couldn’t genuinely fake it. He liked her- liked her , liked her.

She was still a bit shy with him, but it was slowly melting away each time they saw each other. Now the nerves were barely there, being overtaken by anticipation and excitement. It wasn’t something she’d ever thought would happen- being excited and antsy to see Harry, wanting him back in her house.

He was coming over tonight and she had been prepping for a bit, primping and priming herself even though she wanted to look casual. There was never once so far that he hadn’t told her she looked gorgeous, and it had started becoming part of her daily routine. She wanted to impress him, make him say it again and mean it.

Her tummy twisted as she heard his car door slam shut, smiling to herself as she adjusted her cropped top and went towards the door.

He was beautiful. Really, gorgeous as she opened the door to reveal him in the early evening light. He looked a little tired from work,slight bags under his eyes, but his smile melted her a little as he walked right into the house, dropping his bag in the foyer with little care for its well-being and picked her up in a big hug. Her feet dangled as she squealed, strong arms wrapped around her waist as he lifted her effortlessly.

“Hi.” She beamed shyly, feeling him set her down on the floor.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as he placed her down, his strong arms wrapping around her waist lazily.. He loved how delicate she felt in his arms, and he loved the way she squealed with surprise as he lifted her up a bit. Really, he loved most things that had to do with her. Taking a moment to admire her cozy appearance, his gaze lingered on her cropped top. “Hi.” He replied, his voice soft and warm. “You look beautiful.”

Like clockwork.

Before she could respond, Harry was pulling her back into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder as he held her, rocking slightly. A prime example of how touchy he was, unable to stop himself. He nuzzled her neck, letting his cool nose brush against the hot skin. “I missed you.” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her, leaving a little shiver in it’s wake..

When he said things like that it made her want to giggle madly, but also melt into a puddle. He truly meant it, was the thing, and she had a hard time understanding how this had happened. How he had gone from her little enemy to the person she looked toward to seeing the most.

“I missed you too.” She admitted, fingers tracing down his back. It was an attempt to get more open about her feelings. Harry was being candid about his own, so she felt like she could extend him the same grace. Even if it was slightly terrifying, she had no reason to hold back anymore.

Harry pulled back slightly to look at her, a soft smile on his lips at her shy admission. "I like it when you say that." he teased, his voice low. He brought his hands up to rest on her hips, his thumbs tracing small circles on the bare skin. He loved the way the cropped top revealed just enough to make him want more, and he found himself struggling to focus on anything but the feel of her body under his hands.

Harry wanted her, and there was obvious desire for her there. In all honesty, there was a lot of desire for her in general that he had done his best to keep under wraps He’d been so good, trying so hard to prove himself- but that didn’t mean he was a saint. He was beyond attracted to her in every sense of the word, and it was hard to ignore that..

“Excuse me.” She let her smile grow, her tone playful. “My eyes are up here.”

Y/N knew Harry wanted her in all of the ways, and he’d been exceedingly patient. He knew she was trying to build their connection before getting intimate with him again, and she appreciated it- but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy knowing he desired her.

Or that she didn’t have those same urges.

Harry's gaze flicked back up to meet hers, a cheeky grin on his face. "I know where your eyes are. I look at them plenty, do I not?" He replied smoothly, his hands still resting on her waist, giving a gentle squeeze. He couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she shot him a look, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "But you can't expect me to ignore the rest of you when you're wearing something as distracting as that." Testing the waters, he was seeing how far his flirtation could go.

“It’s loungewear, you freak.” She scoffed, a hint of a smile turning up her lips. Leggings and a cropped top were a bit of a reward for him, though. She figured if he had been so patient with her then he could at least get to look at her. “But I’m glad you like it.”

Taking his hand in her smaller one, she led him towards the kitchen to show him the pizza boxes and salad she had made to pair with it, feeling weirdly shy about it. That was the theme of today, considering she had come to a conclusion in her head- but he didn’t need to know about it quite yet. “I knew you’d be hungry when you got off work, so I ordered ahead.”

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw the food, warmth spreading through him. No one had been thoughtful like that to him before, but of course she would be. This sort of thing was why he had liked her. He’d seen it time and time again with their other friends and secretly wished for some of it for himself, that sort of care… and now that he got it, he felt that yearning for her get a little bit stronger. He let out a low whistle. "You knew exactly what I needed." he murmured, a grateful smile on his lips.

Pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her waist from behind. He nuzzled her neck again, his breath warm on her skin. "You're too good to me." he murmured, his voice showing just how grateful he was.

Y/N shivered slightly as he spoke against her skin, large arms wrapping around her and making her feel that same brand of delicacy that only Harry had been able to accomplish. His arms were just… beautiful. Built and muscular, covered in those tattoos, she loved every single thing about them. Looking at them, feeling them, how he used them… she couldn’t admit it out loud yet, but being in his arms was one of her new favorite places.

“You texted and said you didn’t sleep well and you had a rougher day at work and… I dunno. I thought maybe you’d like something ready when you came over. I would have cooked myself but I had a workshop.” She rambled on a little bit, feeling the need to overexplain herself.

Harry squeezed her tighter, his chin resting on her shoulder. He inhaled her scent, his nose buried in hair as she spoke.

"Mmm. " He hummed, his voice low and gravelly. He ran his nose over her throat, lips brushing against the sensitive skin. "You didn't have to do all this, you know." He moved his hands down over her hips, his thumbs tracing soft circles on the exposed skin there. "But I'm really grateful you did." He was quiet for a moment before speaking again, his grip on her tightening slightly. "Can I ask you somethin’?"

“Hm?” She replied. It was hard to focus. Sure, it would be awkward if anyone else say them just standing in her kitchen with the large man wrapped around her body, but no one else was there to judge her for indulging both herself and him in this sort of cuddle.

Harry's body was pressed against her, a small smile on his lips. He really did enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy just as much as he enjoyed the more energetic moments where they’d go out or he’d help her take care of her garden.

"Can I stay over tonight?"

It should have been a scarier question to her, all things considered, but the answer came out of her mouth naturally.

“Sure.” She nodded. There was no second guessing it either. “Is that what that bag was?” She realized he had brought in a bigger duffle than his usual work one, but she had thought it was maybe just to change from his work clothes.

Harry's smile grew as she agreed so easily. "Mhmm." he hummed, his voice low. His hands moved up her sides, tracing the curve of her waist. "I wanted to be prepared just in case you said yes." Presumptuous? He’d prefer the terms hopeful, even confident. They’d been doing so well, he had to at least ask.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a hint of a smirk on his face. "So... where can I sleep?"

He turned her in his grip, letting her look up at his face now with narrowed eyes. Her heartbeat quickened though she tried to calm it down. He was teasing her a little bit, but he did genuinely want to know.

“If you promise no extreme funny business… you can sleep in my bed.” She placed her hand on his bicep, squeezing a little. It was her own reward. “But remember, Harry. No sex. Okay?” Gliding her other hand up to cuff over the back of his neck, she decided it was finally time to tease him back a bit. “However… If you’re really, really nice to me… I may let you kiss me again.”

Harry's smile widened, his eyes sparkling with a hint of challenge. He leaned down, bringing his face closer to the girl’s. "You're being bold, darling." he teased, his voice low and playful. "Are you trying to tempt me?"

“A little.” She hummed. “I like when you’re sweet to me. So if you keep it up, I’ll let you kiss me as long as you’d like tonight. I know I’ve been holding all of that intimacy hostage…”

It had been driving him wild. Near kisses and her letting him brush his hand over the curve of her ass a few times before putting them back up to her hips, he’d tested the waters but got rejected. Now, she was loosening up a bit.

“So.” She blinked up at him. “Are you gonna be nice to me tonight so you can kiss me?”

Harry's eyes glinted with a mixture of desire and playful mischief. He loved it when she teased him just as much as he loved it when she got all shy and flustered. Which one he likes more, he couldn’t tell. "Oh, I'll be so nice to you tonight you won't be able to stand it." he purred, his voice low and husky.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. "But I have one condition, little miss."

“What is that?” She questioned, unsure what it could be. With him, it could be anything.

"You have to promise me that if I'm being too... forward, you'll tell me to back off. I don't want to overstep. Even though I want to kiss you until you can't think straight. So promise me you'll speak up if I get too much."

Her smile widened, nodding in agreement. He’d just earned himself quite a few points. Never had she expected him to be as respectful as he was, but she utterly adored it. “I will. I promise, I’ll tell you.” She agreed, leaning up to kiss the curve of his jaw. “But it’s time for you to eat. I can feel your tummy grumbling.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his eyes flickering over her pretty face. He loved the way her smile widened, and the feeling of her plump lips against his jaw send a shiver down his spine. More. He wanted more, and more, until their mouths were tingling and numb. Until she looked drunk on the kisses, clinging to him like he could only hope.

"Mmm. Okay, fine." he grumbled. "I'll eat. But only if you feed me, since you were so kind as to order ahead for me." He gave her a puppy-dog look, his lower lip jutted out in a mock-pout. It was good, she’s give him that- but not good enough.

“Absolutely not.” She snorted. “Nice try.”

1K notes · View notes

imagine-you · 2 months

Text

won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]

Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.

closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read on AO3

Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.

You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.

Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.

"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.

You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.

"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"

You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.

You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."

"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."

"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.

"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."

Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”

"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.

"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.

Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"

"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.

You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.

"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"

You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.

"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.

No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.

You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.

It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.

If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.

"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.

You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.

Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.

You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.

"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."

You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."

"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."

You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.

"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.

You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.

"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.

"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."

You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.

"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.

"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.

"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.

Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.

You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.

You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.

"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.

"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"

"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."

"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.

"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.

You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.

"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.

"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."

You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.

Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.

Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.

He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.

"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.

"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.

Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.

Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.

Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.

"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.

Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.

"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.

"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.

"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.

"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."

"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.

When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.

Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.

Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.

You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.

You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.

Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.

You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.

"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.

"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.

"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"

You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.

"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.

It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.

"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.

"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.

"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.

"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.

You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.

"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.

You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.

Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.

"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.

Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.

Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.

Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."

"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.

Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.

"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.

"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"

"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.

Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.

You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.

"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.

"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.

"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.

"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.

"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"

"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.

"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"

"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."

"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."

"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.

You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.

When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.

The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.

"I'm in," you found yourself saying.

"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"

"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."

“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”

"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.

"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.

You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.

Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.

He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.

You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.

"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."

You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."

Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.

"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."

"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.

"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."

"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."

You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.

His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."

Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.

You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.

You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.

"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.

You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.

It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.

You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.

"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.

The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.

You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.

Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.

By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.

You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.

"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.

"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.

"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."

Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.

You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."

"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.

This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.

You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.

The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.

You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.

You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.

He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.

You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.

“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.

“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.

The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.

You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.

“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.

Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.

"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.

"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.

"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.

"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."

He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.

But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.

"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.

"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.

You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.

"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.

"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”

"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.

A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.

"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."

“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”

“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”

It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.

You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.

You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.

Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.

Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.

You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.

You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.

You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.

From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.

"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.

You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.

Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!

This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan x reader #deadpool #wolverine #reader insert #marvel #marvel imagine #logan #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett #wolverine imagine #x men #my fic #x reader #imagine #marvel x reader #spoilers #when i'm with you i'm home 'verse

2K notes · View notes

holybibly · 3 months

Text

𝔐𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔞𝔯 𝔐𝔞𝔫 | Hongjoong x reader

Pairing: Rich adult Hongjoong x reader Summary: You've always had expensive taste. So when you meet a gorgeous older man in a bar with the most ravenous feline eyes and diabolical smile, you can't resist the urge to taste him. You let him take you back to his place and give you the most unforgettable night of your life. Genre / Au / Trope : Smut, S2L, One Night Stand!AU, Luxurious! AU Rating: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI Word count: 9.2k Warnings: Older Hongjoong (36)/younger reader (20) unprotected sex, degrading, pet names, size kink, dirty talk, explicit sexual content, explicit language, oral, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, face fucking, explicit sexual content, explicit language, squirting, and more.

net: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet A|N: It seems we need someone older, little bunnies, don't you think? God, I just love this. I'm so happy to be immersed in the luxurious and unbelievably dirty atmosphere of wealth and sex again. And Hongjoong has been on my mind a lot lately. So, bunnies, here I am, feeding you delicious and vulgar things, just the way we like it. ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl

It was not like you at all to agree to go home with some random guy from the bar that you'd just met.

But Kim Hongjoong wasn't just any guy; no, he was an adult, absolutely gorgeous, rich man with a hundred diamond-carat Rolex glittering on his wrist and a devilish grin on his scarlet sensual lips. The kind of lips you want to feel against your skin.

Hongjoong was no ordinary guy whose face you could barely remember the morning after a wild night out. He was the man you'd always dreamed of, the man you'd always wanted, and frankly, the man every girl wanted. An absolute wet dream, dressed in a black Armani suit.

All night long, you felt the weight of the dark, predatory gaze of his feline eyes, the intensity of which burned through your skin, even through the dress you wore tonight. The fleeting interest you had in each other had grown into something much more. And now he was toying with you like a hunter with his prey. But in your case, you wanted to be caught by this man, perhaps too much for your own good.

He was expensive in every way—his clothes, his looks, his behaviour—and you were desperate for a taste of this expensive luxury. You wanted to have a taste of him on your tongue. You wanted to pour his luxurious nature into crystal bottles and drink it down as he fucked you into oblivion. And as you looked at him in the semi-darkness of the bar, it was clear to you that this man was going to be quite unsweet, and that fact only turned you on even more.

But it wasn't just that. It was everything about him that fueled your lust and made you feel the wet heat between your legs.

There was everything about him that spoke of experience and authority, a power that no pretty boy in your philosophy class could ever hope to possess. He was mature, dominant, and rough around the edges. And you wanted nothing more than for him to be the one who fucked you tonight. You wanted to be with someone older, someone who knew how to treat you the right way.

As you walked back to the bar after a quick smoke with a friend, you hadn't expected to find yourself face-to-face with him. The scattered yellowish light from the street lamps played in his platinum blonde hair, and it was at that moment that you knew you'd do anything to get what you wanted so badly.

Not your league, not your age, not your style—he was your golden ticket to heaven. So when he offered to take you back to his place, you didn't think twice about immediately agreeing.

He smelled like money, sex, whisky, and luxury, and this intoxicating mixture of flavours invaded all of your senses, causing your head to spin a little and warm moisture to build up between your thighs. Your little game of seduction was over; you were the ones who initiated the hunt, but he was the winner, and now you were completely in his power, ready to be on your knees in total submission.

As soon as his dark, feline eyes met your big, shining ones and demanded your full attention, you fell into his trap. He leaned in close to your face, invading your personal space completely, and lifted your chin up with his long forefinger so that all you had to do was look at him. You couldn't help but notice how long and thick his lashes were, framing the onyx gleam of his irises, and how sensual his plump, slightly parted lips were, now curved into a seductive grin.

There was a sexy, beautiful maturity in the sharp features of his face. None of the puppy tenderness you were so used to seeing in boys your age. It was so new and so damn attractive that, for a moment, you were left breathless by the wave of excitement that was washing over you. And the devilish spark that danced in the depths of his eyes didn't help you at all; if he were to keep looking at you like that, you would have turned into a puddle of lust right where you were standing.

"Is there something that you want from me, kitten?" His voice is hoarse and sultry, like pure gold drenched in poison. It has a dangerous, demonic tone, is full of the most sinful promises imaginable, and it only attracts you more. Like moths to a flame. The air between you crackles with tension and desire, and you can barely utter a word.

"I wanted..." You mutter—another thing that's completely unlike you. But you can't gather your thoughts as you stare at the breathtakingly handsome man in front of you. Never before in your life have you felt such a strong desire for any guy as you do for this man at this very moment.

Oh God.

The aura around him is so dominant, and you swallow in anticipation. All of your self-confidence evaporates completely as soon as the pointed tip of his tongue slides across his plump lower lip, leaving it wet and glistening with saliva. You can feel yourself starting to sweat; you're so hot and so needy right now.

A storm is about to break, and you want to be right in its midst.

"What's the matter, kitten? Did the cat eat your tongue?" His words were accompanied by a wicked twist of a grin on his face. He was amused, to be sure, but there was something else dancing in the depths of his slanted eyes beyond that. It was an emotion that you could not decipher, but something told you that it could hardly be described as holy.

This man was clearly aware of the overwhelming effect he was having on you. And judging by the expression on his face, it gave him an indescribable amount of pleasure.

"Hmm... perhaps you would like something to drink? With me...". God, you have made such a fool of yourself. The man's grin at your words was just that much bigger. He leaned in even closer to you, his wet lips touching the soft, sensitive skin on your ear with every word he said.

"How tempting that sounds, my kitten. But I think I can offer you something much better. How about I take you back to my house, and you let me drink the champagne right off your pretty, sexy body? Then I'm going to fuck you till dawn until you're stupid and obedient to me. Would you want that, kitty?" He purred in your ear as he ran his finger down the length of your neck until it dipped into the deep neckline of your cleavage.

You let out a low, pitiful moan as everything he does sends signals straight down the nerves that control your cunt. A palpable shiver runs down your spine, and you can feel your pussy clenching at nothing as his words take shape in your mind. The image of that tongue and those sinful lips gliding over your body as he licks off the sparkling golden champagne that you were sure would be obscenely expensive and taste exquisite is practically making you come without even touching yourself.

Without hesitating for a second, you nod in agreement with everything he has told you, and soon you find yourself sitting in the leather seat of his car, with the possessive touch of his hand on your bare thigh. As his fingers, adorned with massive silver rings, dig into your soft flesh, you swallow hard as you see the veins under his skin swell and pulsate.

You want to spread your legs wider and let him see how wet and ready you are for him, but you bite your lip, holding back the urge to retain some semblance of your dignity. Boys your age have never made your body react like this before, and it almost frightens you, but at the same time, it makes you want this man all the more.

It doesn't take long to get to his house, but for you, it feels like forever. During the drive, you find out that the gorgeous man's name is Kim Hongjoong and that he's a music producer, which makes you wonder how talented his fingers are at handling pussy. Aren't all musicians pretty damn good at fingering? Hongjoong is going to be no exception; you can be sure of that.

That's the only thought that stays in your head the whole time you drive out, as the feel of his hot touch on your bare skin literally melts your brain and makes you so soft and pliable for him.

The air in the car is becoming unbearably heavy with the excess sexual energy, and you are on the verge of choking to death. Just as you're thinking about starting to beg him to fuck you right there in the back seat of his car, he lets you know that you've arrived.

Hongjoong's house—luxurious, expensive, and modern, with lots of glass and metal—was a complete reflection of his personality and style. A marble-tiled swimming pool with soft lighting and a green maze garden lay behind the house. As expected, Hongjoong had exceptionally refined and expensive tastes in everything.

You were standing in front of the huge picture window in the master bedroom of the house, and your eyes were fixed on the glowing water of the swimming pool. It helped to ease your nerves now that you were alone with Hongjoong, far away from the prying eyes and the noise of the city. He slowly approaches you like a big cat of prey and hands you a tall glass of sparkling champagne. As you stare at the dancing particles of air and liquid, Hongjoong's earlier words come back to you, and you bite your lower lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud.

His hot breath hits the sensitive skin of your neck as his strong arms wrap around you from behind. Fingers adorned with massive silver rings dig into the soft curves of your body with great force. Behind you, Hongjoong is moaning in satisfaction as he squeezes you even tighter into his arms.

"Well, hello, my little kitty." He purrs sensually into your ear before one of his hands moves the hair from your shoulder, just to leave a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss on your skin.

Hongjoong's hands slide down your body in a possessive way until they find their place on your ample, luscious thighs. He presses you harder and harder against his body, and even through the tight fabric of his designer suit, you can feel the embossed muscles of his chest and the tightness of his abs. His fingers start to knead your thighs roughly; his grip is so tight that you're sure you'll be bruised in the morning, and in fact, you wanted him to leave as many of his marks on you as possible.

"You should try the champagne, my princess; you were so eager to have a drink with me. Weren't you?" His voice is pure darkness wrapped in velvet as he purrs against your skin. The seductive huskiness of his words sends shivers down your spine, and you tilt your head to the side to give him a little more access to kiss you. Hongjoong mooed contentedly and pulled you closer to him so that his hips were now pressed up against your plump bum. Oh, fuck. This position gives you the chance to feel his cock very clearly; it's hard, big, and thick in its girth, and you know that it's going to stretch you out in the most glorious way.

"Yes, that's what I wanted, sir." It's an experiment; you're just testing the dynamic between the two of you. You whimper as his teeth sink into the sensitive flesh of your neck, and it's a sign to you that you've hit the mark.

You definitely do not want to disappoint Hongjoong, so you obediently follow his order and bring the champagne glass to your lips, taking a little sip. Your head spins slightly as the exquisite taste of the expensive alcohol tingles your tongue.

"Such an obedient kitten, just the way I like it." His praise makes you feel even more sticky and wet in your panties. You've never been praised sexually before, and you've only guessed at your penchant for being praised and acknowledged during sex. You've always had a desire to learn more about this kinky part of your nature, but you've never had the opportunity to do so.

But it seems tonight will be the night.

Hongjoong's hot, soft lips continue to plant passionate kisses on your neck and shoulders. Your eyes roll with pleasure as he pulls the skin between his lips, leaving a purple hickey. He slips a finger under the strap of your tight dress and begins to slowly slide it down, exposing your plump tits.

"Mmm, you're so tender, kitty." The man says as he touches your breasts with his fingertips, and from this lightest touch, hot desire runs through your veins, and you unconsciously rub your arse on his cock, making Hongjoong let out the sexiest moan deep in his throat.

As your dress fell to your thighs and you stood half-naked in front of the huge window in Hongjoong's bedroom, your nipples tensed against the cool air in the room. You were displayed like a sparkling diamond, belonging to him alone now, and knowing that made your heart beat faster.

So far from the city and behind the high fence of his mansion, you had your doubts that anyone would be able to see you in such an inappropriate way, but you had the wish that it was possible. You wanted all the boys who'd been in love with you to be able to see this adult, breathtakingly handsome man fuck you so stupidly and so hard that none of them would ever be able to do it.

Hongjoong's hands cupped your boob in a possessive way, holding their heavy weight in the palms of his hands before he began to massage the soft flesh roughly. The silver of his jewelled rings scratched lightly across your skin, leaving reddened marks. Your breasts had always been quite sensitive, and you knew that you could easily come just by stimulating your nipples, but all your previous boyfriends had never paid much attention to that. But Hongjoong, hell, this man knew exactly how to treat you—how to make you whimper and beg.

"Please... Sir..." You moan loudly and eagerly as his fingers run expertly over your sensitive, swollen nipples, and the wetness between your legs becomes more and more intense. Your juices are seeping through the thin lace of your panties and are literally dripping out of your pussy, and you are desperate for Hongjoong to fill the aching void inside of you with his thick cock as quickly as possible. Your hand that holds the champagne glass is trembling and threatens to spill the golden sparkling liquid all over the marble floor, and Hongjoong notices it with a dark chuckle.

"Look at you, Princess; you're trembling all over. My sweet little kitty is so sensitive." His tongue sticks out to lick the long stripe on your neck, and you gasp in surprise as the soft touch is replaced by his sharp teeth, branding your skin.

But it's only a distraction, because the next second you're backed against the cold window glass, and Hongjoong's sensual lips finally meet yours in a scalding kiss. Oh shit. He growls in a low voice against your lips, one of his hands wrapped roughly around your neck, squeezing it with palpable pain, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. Those soft lips are pressed tightly against yours in a kiss that is hungry and cruel. His mouth is insistent and demanding; every movement is a sign of experience and power - he doesn't cajole you - Hongjoong takes what is rightfully his.

His thumb burrows into the skin of your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, and his tongue winds between your lips, compelling you to open your mouth for him.

Once you let it in, you shudder at the sensual, hot sensation as Hongjoong's tongue runs over your palate and your teeth, licking the inside of your cheeks and wrapping it around your tongue like a snake. God, you've never been kissed like this before. Usually it's a slobbering mess with lipstick smeared all over your face, but Hongjoong clearly knows how to make your knees buckle with just one kiss, and you're afraid to imagine what else that sinful mouth is capable of.

Now you're absolutely sure he's going to fuck your brains out.

You moan with wanton need as he presses his fingers harder and harder against your throat, and the glass of champagne slips from your hand and shatters into hundreds of tiny pieces of crystal, glittering with rainbow-coloured tears in the dimly lit bedroom.

"Hongjoong..." The moaning of his name was so desperate, so needy, and so full of lust and desire.

"Damn it, kitten. I love it when you moan my name, but I love it even more when you address me properly. Will you be able to do that for me, Princess?"

"Yes, Sir, I will."

Hongjoong kisses you with renewed fury, biting your lips almost to the point of blood. He's so passionate, so unique, tasting like dark chocolate with red pepper, and you want more and more; right now this gorgeous man is licking your mouth with his tongue and literally pushing it down your throat.

He kisses you like he's dying of thirst, and you're the only way to satiate that vital need. The saliva is running down your chin; it's wet and dirty, but you can't stop. You don't want to stop. Hongjoong's tongue practically fucks you in the mouth. Your hands reach for the collar of his designer shirt and start to unbutton it hastily. He laughs against your lips as you whimper, frustrated at not being able to make it right. Your fingers are trembling too much with excitement and impatience.

"Shhh, kitten, let me help you." He pulls his hands away from your body just so he can take off his jacket and shirt, tossing the expensive designer stuff aside with a dismissive air as if it were completely worthless, but the embroidered name labels you notice tell you otherwise.

Your touches on each other grow more desperate by the second; his skin is smooth and soft under your fingers, but underneath you can feel the strain of muscles that have been trained for years. This man is pure porn, as sexy as Hell itself, and you want to burn up in his flames without leaving a trace behind.

"Please... Sir." You catch your breath as Hongjoong's hand wraps around your neck once more. You are completely unaware of what you're asking him to do. The excitement and the lust are making your brain look like mush and are setting your skin on fire.

The only thing that matters to you right now is that Hongjoong keeps touching you. You want to feel him all over you. You feel like he's got every cell in your body burning, and only his touch can make you feel better.

At your pitiful plea, Hongjoong's feline eyes seemed to grow even darker and more predatory than they could have been, and that should have frightened you, but instead, lust coursed through your veins and a palpable shiver ran through your body. He was looking at you as if he wanted to eat you alive, and you were more than happy to let him do it.

"Oh, my beautiful little kitten. Are you going to be an obedient little girl for me?" Your pussy clenched, and you nodded your head affirmatively in response to his sultry purr.

"Yes, I will be an obedient girl for you, Sir." His scarlet, sensual lips curve insidiously into a wide, devilish grin as he kneels before you. Hongjoong slides the soft fabric of your dress down your legs until you are standing in front of him in nothing more than a lace thong. He wraps his arm around your ankle and then tosses it over his shoulder as well.

For some reason, this pose feels so obscene and dirty to you, and you blush to a deep red, especially when your gaze falls on his face. There is something unjustly handsome about his features, and it almost makes you want to cry. God, this man was beyond your comprehension.

Your hands get tangled in his platinum, perfectly styled hair, and you pull lightly on the soft strands as Hongjoong bites down on the soft skin on the inside of your thigh before his sharp nose nestles up against your pussy and he takes a slow, deep breath.

"God, your scent is so sweet, kitten." He breathed out. The sound of his voice caressed your skin like liquid silk. "But I bet your cunt tastes even sweeter." His dark, hungry eyes look up at you through long, fluffy lashes.

For the second time that night, you find yourself caught in his feline gaze, watching in fascination as Hongjoong leans his gorgeous face forward and licks a long, tantalising strip down the length of your cunt through the thin lace of your thong. The indirect touch of his tongue on your throbbing, swollen clit makes you let out a loud whimper, your knees almost buckling at the slight caress.

"I... sir..." You feel, rather than see, the curve of his beautiful, soft lips in a sly grin before he repeats his action, once again running his tongue along your clothed slit, this time deliberately flicking the sharp tip of his tongue over your clit. You tremble under the skilled touch of his mouth on your warm pussy as Hongjoong continues rubbing his tongue against the lacework of your thong, leaving thick and viscous trails of saliva on them.

"Look at you, kitten; your cunt is soaking wet. You're so juicy and so ready for me. Tell me, princess, what do you want from me?" Hongjoong whispers and pushes your panties aside. His fingers spread your labia, allowing the cool air of the room to cool your hot and sticky flesh slightly. Hongjoong's feline eyes are predatorily narrowing at the sight of your small, throbbing clit and the way your tight hole is trembling with the need to be filled with something. "Come on, kitty, tell me what you want so badly. Don't be shy." Hongjoong's sensual lips are parted by his heavy breathing, and he swallows hard as he sees your hole clenching at nothing and spurting a thick, viscous drop of your sweet essence. Damn it, it's literally dripping off of you.

He rolls his eyes and moans lewdly; his Adam's apple swayed, and the veins in his neck swelled with tension. The sound that he's making is almost pornographic. His hard-on twitches painfully as it presses hard against the fabric of his trousers, but Hongjoong ignores it for the moment.

"Hongjoong..." You whimper. Your whimper turns into a loud squeal as his fingers dig roughly into the tender flesh of your thigh, leaving stinging red marks from his nails on your skin, and he lets out a deep growl that you can feel in the folds of your cunt. It makes you realise what you've done, and you immediately try to correct it. "Sir, I'm so sorry. I'll be better."

"That's right, kitty, you should behave better, and I'm still waiting for your answer." Hongjoong's hot breath flows around your sensitive pussy with every word he says.

"Your mouth...I want your mouth and your tongue, sir...please..." Your thighs are trembling a little from all the attention that this luxurious man is giving you at the moment. "Please, sir, use your mouth. I want you to eat my cunt."

"Oh, my beautiful, precious girl, I promise you. I will take good care of you. So good that you won't even remember your name." Hongjoon purrs in a velvety voice as his dark and hungry eyes devour your pretty pink cunt. You look like an exquisite delicacy to him, and he is eager to taste your juicy sweetness.

You sob pitifully in response to his words, your body obviously enjoying the way he is addressing you as more and more viscous slime oozes out of your sensitive pussy. God, what this man is doing to you now is nothing compared to any of the men you've ever fucked in your life.

You can't hold back a loud, prolonged moan as he pulls you closer to his handsome face, pressing your soaking wet cunt to his greedy, scarlet lips. The tip of his tongue slides expertly between your folds before he runs it along the delicate edges of your small, tight hole, tasting the flesh of your cunt and the nectar-sweetness of your juices.

"Fuck, kitten," Hongjoon growled. "The taste of your pussy is divine to me." The man doesn't hesitate to plunge his gorgeous face even deeper, literally burying himself between your thighs, his sharp nose poking at your clit as he hungrily lavishes on your aching, oozing hole.

"Sir!" You squeal as the searing heat of his gorgeous mouth envelops your plump little pussy in its entirety.

Hongjoong pulled the small, reddened bud into his mouth and began to suck it roughly, milking your overly sensitive bunch of nerves with his gorgeous lips. When you sob and squirm in his grip, he lets go of your clit with a loud pop and instead licks another long strip along your throbbing cunt.

He moans wantonly and somehow desperately into your vagina, leaving dirty French kisses on your folds and making them even wetter and stickier, smearing your mucus and saliva all over your little mound. You pitifully moan as you begin to wiggle your hips in time with the relentless movements of his jaw, tugging at the thick strands of his platinum hair.

He sucks, licks, and caresses your pussy and brings you to a state of absolute bliss. Hongjoong is getting drunk on you and is completely intoxicated by your beautiful, creamy cunt.

You gasp loudly as Hongjoong spits a thick lump of saliva onto your pussy and you can feel some of the liquid running down your folds. He spoiled your cunt completely.

"I could eat that little cunt of yours all day long, kitten. You have such a delicious taste." Hongjoong moaned as his tongue licked greedily along the long strip from your crotch all the way to your clit. The taste of your sweet, creamy cunt on his tongue was practically driving him mad, and he let out a low, sultry purr that vibrated all the way to your centre.

It wasn't the first time someone had buried their face between your thighs, but damn, Hongjoong was something else.

Your sweet, pitiful moans and wheezes were music to his ears and only served to encourage him even more to continue his caresses. You sang so beautifully to him, trembling and wriggling in the firm, rough grip of his hands while his soft and experienced tongue flicked and fluttered over your sensitive clit.

Fuck, it felt so good—so damn good—that your vision became blurred with pleasure and sudden tears on the edges of your eyes, and your breathing became intermittent and heavy. You could already feel the knot of hot pleasure tightening inside of you; damn it, you were so close to cum.

Hongjoong wrapped his hot, wet mouth around your clitor once more and began to suck on the swollen, throbbing bud of yours, alternating between rough and gentle sucking.

God, this man definitely had the most amazing 'tongue technique' that you could ever have imagined. Hongjoong lifted his head for a moment, and the sight of his stunningly handsome, mature face almost brought you to a state of ecstasy: his lips swollen from the incessant caresses, all shiny and glassy with your excitement, feline eyes unfocused as if he were drunk, long eyelashes fluttering, saliva running down his cheeks and chin, mixing with your sticky sweetness.

It was overwhelming, and the pleasure shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

"Oh my God!" You let out a loud groan, throwing your head back and banging it lightly against the glass, but you don't even pay any attention to it; you are too engrossed in Hongjoong.

"Oh my kitten, that's right, you can call me God." Hongjoong laughed fiercely, and then you felt the tip of his tongue sliding into your small, narrow hole, and he started caressing your silky walls.

And then everything goes white for you. The stars explode behind your eyes, your hips shake uncontrollably as they clench around Hongjoong's head, your hands pull harder on the soft platinum strands of his hair, and the loud moaning of his name flies from your parted lips like a prayer song.

"Please, Hongjoong, don't stop. I'm begging you; don't stop." And he doesn't stop, prolonging your orgasm with quick and skillful movements of his tongue. He's lapping up your cum like it was the world's most exquisite dessert, smacking his lips and greedily swallowing all the viscous, sweet liquid that flows into his insatiable, devilish mouth.

You look so ethereal as you spray your sweet juices all over his face, and something deep down inside of him wants to feel it all over again.

"Please! Hongjoong..." You are begging him, but you don't know exactly what it is you are asking him to do. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, almost painful.

The tears have begun to flow freely down your face, leaving inky trails of mascara and shimmering glitter. Hongjoong thinks you resemble him a freshly bloomed flower, and when you come again, he can't help but want to see you underneath him—wriggling, heated, exhausted from hours of endless, animalistic, rough sex, cum on his cock again and again. Fuck, he'd milk every last drop out of you.

When you feel like you're about to pass out from the overstimulation, Hongjoong pulls away from your cunt. He lifts his dark, slanting eyes to you and licks his swollen, scarlet lips hungrily, using his tongue to pick up what remains of your slime. But it doesn't help much. The clear, sticky liquid runs down his chin and drips onto his chest. How does this man still look so luxurious and expensive, even after licking your cunt like his life depended on it?

Hongjoong plants a last hot kiss on the inside of your thigh before taking your leg off his shoulder and standing up. His hands are around you at once, dragging you against his powerful body. His skin is so smooth and so hot, and you have no hesitation in telling him that you'd like to lick him from head to toe.

"I want to taste you. Are you going to let me do that, sir?"

The corners of his lips lift, turning his smile into a true predatory grin, and everything inside of you clenches and quivers with a sharp anticipation that tingles your skin like shards of broken crystal.

"Sweet little kitty, aren't you the most precious thing in the world?" He says. Hongjoong takes your hand in his and presses it against his hot, thick erection. Fuck, even through the tight designer fabric of his trousers, you can feel how amazing and delicious his cock is going to be. Oh, he's going to totally destroy your cunt. "Would you like to taste my cock, Princess?" His eyebrow lifts in a teasing manner, and your fingers tighten on his erection.

"Yes, sir, I do. I want to taste your cock so badly. I'm such a slut for you. Give me the feel of your cock on my tongue. Please, sir." You look up at him through your lashes, running your tongue over your plump lower lip and his cock twitching under your palm.

"If you ask me so sweetly, kitten, who am I to refuse you? Just say the word, and I'll have the whole fucking world crawling at your feet."

He pulls you over to the luxurious bed, which is clearly too big to spend your nights alone, and makes himself comfortable on the edge of the soft mattress, pulling you down gently until you're kneeling between his legs. You spread your legs a little bit so that even in this position, Hongjoong can enjoy the sight of your glistening, dripping cunt. Traces of his saliva and your juices cover your silky folds and make him want to sink his face between your thighs once more.

Hongjoong throws his head back and lets out a deep, velvety moan, and your eyes sparkle as you see his gloriously sculpted abs tense and his Adam's apple tremble, and you want to leave hundreds of marks on that gorgeous, seductive throat. Belatedly, you notice the "NO1LIKEME" tattoo on his arm and think it suits him damn well.

"Come on, princess, show me what you can do with that beautiful, slutty mouth of yours." He says this as he unbuckles his belt.

You move impatiently closer to him as he finally pulls his cock out of his trousers, your eyes widening to see this thick, velvety length right in front of you. The head of his cock was reddened and swollen, and you swallowed hard from this vew. God, his cock is gorgeous, with thick, juicy veins covering the hard length, which is glistening wet from the pre-cum that is leaking out of it.

Your mouth fills with saliva, and you run your fingertips lightly over the entire length of his cock before you dip your head down to lick the wet head. The taste of him reminds you of the champagne you drank earlier and tingles your tongue. Outrageously expensive and ultra vulgar. You hunger for more. Your parted lips press against his cock, wrapping it in your hot breath as you run it down the length to the base.

Your tongue gives him a kitten's lick at the sensitive spot where his cock meets up with his heavy, cum-filled balls. The moan he makes as he does so goes straight to your pussy and your silky walls clench around nothing. The soft skin tingles under your tongue and makes his cock bounce up against your pretty face, and the sight of you licking his balls almost brings him over the edge.

Fuck, Hongjoong swears to himself that he's going to fucking destroy you.

"I see my kitten knows how to handle a cock, eh? But can you please me, Princess?" He hisses through his teeth as you wrap the palm of your hand around his cock and slap it against your protruding tongue a couple of times. Each time his cock pulls away from the soft surface of your slippery appendage, long strands of saliva stretch from your mouth to his glans.

"I'll try, sir..." The look in your wide, open eyes is completely innocent as you begin to slowly suck him into your hot and deliciously moist mouth. Hongjoong's dark cat-like eyes are fixed on your glistening ruby-red lips as they stretch around his thick dick in the most beautiful way.

The way you tilt your head and relax your jaw, allowing Hongjoong's massive cock to slide deeper into your throat, makes him crumple the silk sheet in his hand with such force that the knuckles on his fingers turn white. His other hand comes to rest on the back of your head and presses firmly, causing you to take his cock even deeper into your mouth. Your eyebrows furrow as the swollen head rests against the back of your throat, eliciting a guttural moan from him.

Unconsciously, you swallow, allowing Hongjoong's cock to slide easily down your throat, the veiny length of it stretching along the quivering walls of your larynx. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple jiggling to get your attention, and you repeat the motion, swallowing again, letting his cock slide deeper and deeper until your face is almost resting against his pubic.

"Fuck, that, my good girl." Hongjoong gasps, watching the blissful expression on your face as his entire cock basks sweetly between the tight, sticky walls of your throat. On your neck, he can easily see the outline of his length bulging beneath your thin skin. His fingers get tangled in your hair as he begins to pull your head up and down, fucking your mouth and causing saliva to drip from your lips onto your chin and down his thighs.

You moan around his cock; the heavy, hot weight on your tongue makes you feel so good. You've always loved having a cock in your mouth, but there was something about the fact that Hongjoong's cock was the one that was destroying your throat at that very moment that just made your head spin.

"Fuck, I haven't had a good cocksucker like you in a long time. Most girls start to whimper and choke, but you're just made for sucking cocks. Aren't you, pussycat?" Hongjoong said mockingly, his thrusts getting harder and harder as the most disgusting and lewd words poured out of his mouth like sweet, seductive poison.

You moaned affirmatively, agreeing with what he said, your wet, silky throat clinging to his cock with each powerful thrust. An almost evil laugh erupted from Hongjoong's chest as you made a strangled, gurgling sound around his cock after a particularly strong thrust of his hips. His balls slapped against your chin with a sticky, vulgar sound.

He ran his other hand through his platinum hair, brushing the silky strands away from his eyes as he tilted his head back.

"I can't wait to spoil your cunt. I want you to smear your cream all over my cock, or are you a squirter, pussycat?" He purred, and you fell into even more bliss from the vibrations of his golden voice on your skin.

The thought of him stretching out your cunt on his cock made your exhausted brain boil with euphoria. You let his cock out of your mouth with a loud slutty pop, saliva and pre-sperm running in long strands from your tongue to the tip of his cock.

"For you, I'll do both, sir."

"Could you be any more precious, Princess?" Hongjoong's fingers cupped your face and pressed your cheeks together. His eyes were filled with something animal, primal, and utterly savage. "Are you ready for me to fuck you, beautiful? Because I'll screw you so hard and long that you'll feel my cock in your pretty little pussy for days after. Those threatening words sounded like heaven to you, and I nodded your head impatiently.

His hand moved away from your face but soon came back in the form of a sharp slap that burned your soft, plump cheek and made you gasp for breath. Oh shit, Hongjoong's actions caused a thick stream of slime to pour out of your trembling hole and onto the marble floor. God, you loved the way he handled you, without this puppy sweetness that guys your age had or clumsy attempts to please you.

He was a man who knew exactly how to make your pussy flow for him.

"I... want you to fuck me stupid Make me your personal little slut, please, sir."

Satisfied with your words, Hongjoong grabbed your hair again. He lifts you up from the floor, the roots of your hair being pulled painfully tight and causing your delicate scalp to burn slightly. He throws you down on the bed with force; your arse is facing him, and your legs are dangling over the edge. You immediately assume a seductive pose, looking back at Hongjoong over your shoulder with the most innocent and angelic expression on your face, spreading your legs for him, and shaking your plump arse to tease him slightly.

The evil, almost demonic grin is back on Hongjoong's face when he sees what you have done. Your pussy is all swollen and pink, and for a second, he leans in to lick the delicate folds of your pussy once more. His tongue dives into your hole before he slaps you hard on your buttocks with both hands, mixing pain and pleasure and making you moan loudly as you rest your face against the silk sheets.

"Impatient little cunt, aren't you? But, I suppose, kitten, it must be so hard for you to satisfy that greedy hole when you're being fucked by inept, drooling puppies, isn't it? Is this the first time you've ever been fucked by someone older, kitty?"

"Yes, sir, I've never been fucked by an older man." You moan as you feel Hongjoong rub the head of his cock against the folds of your quivering pussy. You whimper in frustration; damn it, all you wanted was to feel him inside you. Your pussy throbs with every touch, and you desperately want to be filled. You sob loudly as the tip of his cock pokes at your clit, your labia wrapped beautifully and tightly around the soft, wet flesh.

"Please fuck me already. I want your cock so badly." You whimper, and he grins back. The sound of it is utterly vicious and diabolical.

"Now I can see it, kitten. You've never been played with like this before, have you? Those boys just stuck their cocks in your hole and used you as a toy for their own pleasure, didn't they?" He slapped his cock against your wetness before he wrapped his hands around your thighs and pressed them together. This new position made the throbbing of your pussy even more intense.

"No one has ever played me right, sir; please show me how it's done. Destroy me..." You whimpered, pulling your arse back to try and get his cock inside. Oh, he just couldn't resist your words. You were exactly what he had always wanted for himself.

"Well, then you should get ready, kitty, because this is going to be one hell of a ride." Hongjoong spits on your pussy to get more lube on it, as if you weren't already an absolute wet mess for him, and he positions himself in front of your narrow entrance. With a deep growl, he begins to push his cock into you, your wet walls sliding apart easily for him as he does so.

The delicate edges of your little hole burned from stretching as the head of his cock fully penetrated you, but you welcomed the sensation with a loud moan of pleasure. Centimetre by centimetre, your warm, sweet pussy engulfed his cock, bringing the two of you to a state of euphoric bliss. The silky, slippery walls of it clung to his thick girth, almost preventing him from moving at all.

Your cunt was so tight and narrow around him that it made Hongjoong hiss and gasp for air. You moaned loudly underneath him. The bossy position that he was holding you in prevented you from moving your hips, leaving you with no choice but to take what he was giving you. Never in your life have you been so intensely aroused. Your lust for this stunningly mature man was simply inhuman.

"Oh fuck..." Hongjoong exhaled as he entered you all the way, his hips pressed tightly against your plump buttocks, as the head of the dick was buried in your cervix. You felt so full, so satiated, and already close to orgasming just from the way he spread you apart. The walls of your cunt contracted and quivered, and your swollen clit throbbed like never before. He hasn't done anything to you, and you're already so fucked up.

Hongjoong grabbed hold of your soft hips and dug his fingers into the juicy flesh, pulling you along the entire length of his cock before he pushed you back against him, slowly adapting you to him. You were so tight and tiny, or rather, he was so big, that even with so little movement and a great deal of mucus and saliva, the friction was palpably sharp.

As soon as you got used to him, Hongjoong didn't wait a second before he started to move. From the very beginning, his pace was sharp and fast. His hips slammed into your arse with great force, and each time his thick, wiry cock entered you all the way to the base of your cervix, the swollen head slamming into your cervix. In time with his thrusts, your plump, heavy tits bounced.

The loud sound of his balls slapping against your plump arse and the noisy squelching of your wet cunt that echoed throughout the room made you sob loudly and pitifully.

"Your pussy is sucking me so deliciously, my little kitten. You are so hungry for my cock, my sugar princess, and I will give you exactly what you want so badly. I am going to feed you properly with my cum. I'm going to give my pretty little kitty so much milk that it will be pouring out of you for days and days." Hongjoong's moan was deep and velvety. His breathing became heavy, and his voice became hoarse and sultry, like a wild predatory cat purring, as he quickened his pace to fuck you harder and deeper. "I'm going to breed you, kitten. I'll make you so beautiful and swollen with my children."

Hongjoong's dirty words turned you on even more, and you knew if you touched your clit even a little, you'd have your cream all over his dick in a matter of seconds. As if reading what you thought, Hongjoong's fingers slid down and began to circle your swollen bud. He drew intricate patterns all over your clit, sending jolts of hot pleasure through your body as he did so.

Your eyes rolled back in your head, your tongue flicked out of your mouth, and a look of pure bliss crossed your face as Hongjoong continued to fuck you mercilessly.

"Fuck, I'm going to cum, please, sir." Your viscous fluid began to flow harder down your inner thighs and Hongjoong's hand as you approached your orgasm.

"Already? You were really desperate for my cock, you pretty little slut. Cum on my cock, kitty." Hongjoong laughed. He leaned forward, his muscular, sweaty chest pressed against your back, his magnificent hips moving smoothly and powerfully as he continued to mercilessly fill your pussy. In this new position, the head of his cock is now rubbing against your G-spot in a delicious way.

Your orgasm is raging inside of you like an all-consuming flame, destroying every conscious part of you and leaving you with no bones. You writhe beneath him, your legs shaking violently as you let out a loud scream. Just as you promised him, your pussy covered all over his cock with your cream, Hongjoong's name comes off your lips like a mantra, and you swear you saw God for a second. You don't think you'll ever reach that level of bliss again. It was truly intoxicating. Your limbs turned to jelly as your orgasm began to melt; you were almost drooling all over the silk sheets from the intense high.

You don't even notice it when it happens. Hongjoong suddenly leaves your used, squeezing cunt, and the next moment you are lying on your back with your legs around his slutty waist and his cock deep inside you.

"I want to have a look at your face when you come again. This time I'll make you squirt, kitten." Hongjoong's pace slows down; it becomes deep and hard; it's sharp, short thrusts that make his cock practically penetrate your cervix. You feel like he's completely remodelling your insides at the moment.

Hongjoong continues to fuck you, and the stimulation becomes almost unbearable for you, bringing you to the edge of pleasure once again. Hongjoong starts to move erratically and becomes careless as he chases his own orgasm. He leans down to your ear, breathing wetly and huskily, his hard chest pressed against your tits, your sensitive nipples rubbing against his heated and sweat-slick skin, bringing you even more pleasure. Your pink buds are practically tingling with the stimulation.

"I will fill you with my sperm, and your pussy will swallow it all." He purred, the sound of his moaning filling your ears. As he fucks you into oblivion, Hongjoong catches your gaze, his cat-like eyes fixed on you.

Hongjoong's gorgeous face contorts with pleasure; his hips twitch, and his face is pressed against your neck to muffle his animal growl. His cock is pulsating hotly inside your silky walls, and as he makes another deep thrust inside you and the head of his cock slips into your cervix for a second, your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

"Hongjoong, oh my God... It's so much. I can't... I can't take it anymore." You start to come, huge jets of liquid splashing around his thick cock as he continues to fuck you like there's no tomorrow.

"Kitten, god damn it!" The man growls, and you feel the hot, thick sperm staining in the white of your tender walls. There's so much of his cum that the viscous, milky liquid seeps out past the point where his cock has plugged your tiny hole and stains the inside of your thighs. His teeth sink into your shoulder, almost tearing through your skin and almost to bleed, until he relaxes and pulls himself away from you. Hongjoong comes out of your tortured, swollen pussy and you go completely limp, too weak to move.

"Damn, look at that hungry little cunt of yours swallowing up all my cum. That's my pussycat." Hongjoong purrs contentedly, showering you with praise as he watches your pussy twitch and the walls clench around the sudden void that his cock has left behind.

"Let's get you cleaned up, kitty." The man says this to you as he gets out of bed and walks to the dressing room that is connected to his bedroom. When he comes back, he is dressed in a floor-length black silk dressing gown, and in his hands he is holding one of his luxurious, classic shirts. You can barely manage to get out of bed; your legs are trembling, and cum is dripping out of your pussy. Hongjoong laughs as he picks you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom, where he sets up the shower for you. It was probably one of the best showers you've ever had. Maybe it was the incredibly expensive skin care products, or the water being the perfect temperature, or just the fact that Hongjoong fucked you to heaven and back.

But you're safe to say that you're going to feel this night on your body for the next few days.

Hongjoong's hot hands glide over your body, smearing the soft, fluffy foam of the incredibly sweet shower gel, and you melt under his touch.

"Will you stay with me, love?" He whispers in your ear.

"I'll stay with you as long as you want me to, Hongjoong."

═══════════════════════════════════════════

You slowly climb out of Hongjoong's luxurious bed and try not to wake up the man who is sleeping peacefully with your actions. Hell, even when he's sleeping, he looks like a fucking work of art, and you almost want to go back to bed and wake him up with a quality blowjob, but you decide to revisit the idea later, after you've made breakfast for both of you. You flinch slightly as you move. The sweet pain in your pussy reminds you of what happened last night. Damn it, Hongjoong really did fuck you incredibly well.

It's surprisingly easy to navigate his huge house, and you quickly find a spacious kitchen bathed in golden sunlight, only to freeze in the hallway, not daring to move.

If yesterday you thought that Hongjoong was the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life, then when you look at the man who is now sitting at the dining table, relaxed and drinking coffee, you think that you have met God himself. Oh, damn. Unconsciously, you gasp for breath, which gets his attention, and when your eyes meet, you swear that your heart stops beating.

"Oh, you are awake already. Did you have a good night's sleep, my love?" His voice caresses your skin like a thousand kisses, and you are terribly ashamed to admit it, but sweet moisture begins to gather between your legs. God, what's happening now?

"Yes, I... Yes, that was good." You stammer under the weight of this gorgeous man's dark, almost hypnotic gaze, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

Your insecurities and embarrassment seem to amuse him, as the man lets out a dark, amused chuckle before his sensual, plump lips curl up into one of the sexiest smiles you've ever seen.

"I'm glad; sometimes Hongjoong is not the nicest host. He's a bit of a grumpy cat. You know?"

His casual words confuse you even more. And the fact that his eyes are literally devouring your almost naked body doesn't make it any easier. You're still wearing only Hongjoong's shirt, and it's decent enough to cover your plump buttocks, but not decent enough to be in the company of a strange man when you're not wearing underwear.

"I think I have to go..." You almost whisper as you watch the man's eyes go dark as his gaze lingers on the bruises and hickeys that Hongjoong has left on your neck.

"Oh no, darling, I don't think so. I think you should definitely stay for breakfast." He gets up from his seat and slowly starts to walk towards you, and you feel as if the air in the room has suddenly become heavier and thicker. You almost suffocate. God, you feel like you are being hunted.

"This is not the best idea; excuse me..." And then you realise that you never bothered to ask the name of this luxurious, grown-up man. A man who looks as if he had been the star of a fashion show just a few minutes ago.

He seems to realise this too. Because the next second he utters words that turn your whole world upside down.

"I'm sorry, I think I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Seonghwa, and last night you fucked my husband, Kitten".

2K notes · View notes

sirenhub · 3 months

Text

LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE

SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!

CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!

SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.

slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.

a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.

aerial shoot, his favorite.

but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.

slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.

he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.

he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.

hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.

looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.

a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.

he was lonely.

despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.

the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.

he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.

the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.

the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.

he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.

he wasn’t happy.

leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.

his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.

so, that left him with one more option.

opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.

pornhub.com

this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.

his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.

he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.

he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.

opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.

it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.

college girl masturbates solo :)

it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.

there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.

the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.

he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.

he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.

leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.

after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.

it was slick, glistening.

his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.

leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.

he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.

it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.

he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.

his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.

his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.

the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.

oh, how he missed it.

as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.

his cock twitched, fuck.

you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.

pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..

you’re pathetic leon.

even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.

he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.

his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.

a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.

his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.

holy fuck.

his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.

leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.

he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.

he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.

looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.

your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?

he sucked in a breath and gulped.

him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.

it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.

but it wasn’t, and he knew that.

sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.

the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.

choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.

he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.

your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.

his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.

it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.

his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.

he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.

he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—

his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.

you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.

not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.

it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.

leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.

running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.

reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.

no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.

he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.

instagram.

leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.

you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.

you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.

after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.

leon wasn’t sick.

he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.

he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.

sick. you are sick.

leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.

the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.

he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.

at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.

this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.

occasionally, you participated in live streams.

it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.

that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.

in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.

he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.

tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.

‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.

you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.

leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.

get a fucking grip.

your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.

his mouth went dry when you addressed him.

he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.

SKENNEDY001

okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?

slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.

but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?

“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.

leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.

he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.

‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.

his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.

he was obsessed with you.

the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?

the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.

“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.

leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.

you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.

he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.

the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.

luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.

he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.

the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.

not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.

what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.

‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’

leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.

running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.

‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’

he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.

‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’

your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.

‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’

he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.

‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’

oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?

‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.

the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.

leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.

he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.

nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.

≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.

he couldn’t expose himself.

but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.

you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.

he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.

once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.

entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?

he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.

he couldn’t go into this sober.

letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.

‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’

why would he say that?

leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.

after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.

‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’

he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.

leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.

he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.

‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.

he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.

leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.

‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’

‘take your time.’

during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.

he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.

moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.

reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.

he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.

feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.

‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.

he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.

‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.

looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.

‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.

okay, good.

eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.

“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.

taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.

leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.

he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.

why was it so easy to get hard for you?

“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.

leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.

you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.

leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.

“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.

a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.

leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.

humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.

you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.

“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.

you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.

so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.

“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.

leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.

leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.

“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.

turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.

you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.

turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.

leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.

you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.

“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.

you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.

“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.

you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?

a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.

reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.

his camera turned on and he had no idea.

you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.

he was hot.

like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.

this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.

you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.

he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.

“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.

leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.

he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.

leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.

your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.

this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.

only him.

“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.

your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.

leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?

this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.

leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.

a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?

you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.

leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.

but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.

“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.

leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.

he was so cute.

“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.

each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.

you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.

he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.

“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.

leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.

“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.

you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.

this was so hot.

leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.

the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.

while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.

leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.

panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.

“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.

your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.

rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.

biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.

he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.

if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.

by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.

leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.

it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.

your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.

god.

leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.

this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.

watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.

metaphorically, of course.

you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.

he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.

he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.

slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.

your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.

squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.

eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.

“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.

looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.

“so, tell me more about you, leon.”

≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.

the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.

he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.

he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.

he missed you.

reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.

hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.

it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.

the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.

it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.

had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.

taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.

‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’

╰ TAGS: @gor3-hound @rigorwhoring @nilpill @ottermarbles @argreion @angelstargel @lysa1201-saucy @dilfsmaid @sweets3rial @doja-rat16 @bababsthings @frillyyyy @nyxxoxo @admirxation @gcldtom @ashrillvenheim @seraphicsuicides @altissia-09 @ghostier0t @biohazard-4ever @leonsgirl-111 @th3lma @squazmine @dakotali @neverg0nnagivey0uup @brblnc @emodanoriddler @v1ccc @dear-satan @skydisneylover @calansic @acidaciruela @vkurtmien @shiawaseorii @fxnfandxmmp4 @valentin78pon @antagonize-me-motherfucker

#( 𝑣𝑚𝑝. ) 𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐 ､､#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil #leon vendetta #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #x reader #resident evil smut

2K notes · View notes

benevolentbones · 3 months

Text

beach day | spencer reid x fem!reader part 2

part 1

warnings: heated kissing!!! slightly suggestive.

word count: 1.2k

a/n: here is part 2!! hope you all enjoy, thank you for the support and 200+ followers!! reblogs & comments appreciated !!

the sun was at its highest point, casting burning rays down onto the white sand. you and garcia were splashing around, emily and jj had run off to look for seashells and derek was building a mega sandcastle with jack while hotch and spencer were sat by everyone’s bags.

“i’m getting a little cold now y/n, im getting out to warm up.” garcia announced as she began to wade back out of the water, you decided that it would probably be a good idea to take a break maybe get a drink to rehydrate, so you followed the blonde back to the towels.

“honestly hotch the water is perfect are you sure you don’t want to come for a swim?” you grinned as you walked back.

“i think i’m good here.” he mumbled, smoothing down the hawaiian print shirt that adorned his tall figure.

“well in that case- lets get ice cream.” penelope chirped, as he dried herself off putting on a violently floral beach coverup over her swimsuit.

“ice cream!” jack came running back, practically leaping onto his dad, covering them both in sand.

“well that’s one way to summon a five year old.” you laughed.

hotch sent you a joking glare before picking jack up. “yeah lets get some ice cream.” he agreed passively.

“morgan, ice cream lets go hotch is buying!” penelope yelled to derek who was now two feet deep in a hole he was digging.

“wh- i never said…fine.” hotch shook his head in disapproval as he walked away, jack still in his arms, with penelope and derek in tow.

“get me my favourite!” you yelled out as they left, earning a dismissive wave from hotch.

you turned to face spencer, who had now picked up your towel and was using it to block his legs from the sun. his face was buried in his book, with only a few pages remaining.

“can i use my towel, spence.” you smiled sweetly once his doe eyes met yours.

your two piece clung to your body, saturated in sea water. little droplets of water trickled down your bare skin, spencer’s intense stare watching as they connected to each other and fell from your figure.

he cleared his throat before speaking, “i-uh yeah here.” he quickly pass your towel to you, your finger briefly skimming over his causing heat to rise in your cheeks.

you towel dried your hair, wringing your salty locks out.

spencer closed his book, setting it down on the blue cooler to his right. he eyed you, as you began to pat your torso dry, wrapping the towel around yourself, over your two piece, like you had just stepped out of the shower.

“when did you last put suncream on?” you questioned, flicking your hair off of your shoulders.

“i don’t know- maybe four hours ago.” spencer pondered.

you gasped loudly in a playful manner, immediately diving into your beach bag and pulling out your trusted factor 30 suncream.

“i- y/n i think i’m fine.”

“you’re supposed to reapply every two hours- you should know this.” you muttered, shuffling towards spencer’s seated figure.

spencer let out a small groan, although secretly he thought it was cute how concerned you were.

“stand up please.”

“i’m not moving.” a smug smile resting on his face, he wanted to test how serious you were about the application of suncream, surely you’d give up.

you let out a prolonged exhale, dispensing suncream onto your hand.

“you gave me no choice!” you exclaimed, climbing onto the beach chair. spencer’s eyes widened as you practically straddled the man, one leg resting over either side of his lap.

you pushed back his hair with one hand, gently applying the cream to his face with the other. his face burning at your close proximity, he was staring directly and your towel clad form.

once you finished applying it to his face, you reached for the bottle again, you moved down to his neck, then to his arms. at this stage spencer was compliant, doing whatever you needed of him.

“give me your arm.” you muttered, taking his forearm and rubbing in the cream on any visible skin. spencer stirred as you shifted your weight to one side, getting comfortable on his lap.

spencer knew you were a confident person, it reflected in your work on the field, but he never expected you to go this far.

“i know you’re enjoying this.” you joked, your small laugh ringing in his ears.

“s-shut up. i say you couldn’t wait to get your hands on me.” he rebutted your remark, and now it was your turn for your face to flush.

“so what if i did…” you mumbled, taking his other arm in your hand. spencer’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read your expression, he wasn’t certain if you meant it. so he decided to find out.

“is that why you wanted my hands all over you?” he questioned. it was a bold move, even for spencer, he couldn’t quite believe those words came from him.

this caught you off guard, you dropped spencer’s arm and stared at him, his hazel eyes stared back with intensity.

“and what if i said yes, dr.reid?” you replied, chewing your bottom lip waiting for his reply.

spencer lifted his dominant hand, slipping it under your towel to rest on your waist. you breath hitched in your throat as his warm hand came in contact with your chilled skin.

“maybe you need a top up.” he mumbled, his grasp on you not faltering.

you studied him, the fresh layer of suncream on his facing causing his skin to glow from the few rays of sun that managed to shine through the gaps of the umbrella.

your hold on the bottle of suncream loosened causing it to fall into the sand below. you brought your right hand up to his face, resting it against jaw as you smoothed your thumb over cheek.

he gave you a small smile, embracing your hold. you reluctantly leaned closer, shifting your position on him. spencer could tell what you were doing, quickly closing the gap between you and pressing his lips to yours.

it was gentle at first, a soft brush that sent shivers down spencer’s spine. you immediately brought your other hand up, running in through his hair. spencer’s grip on your waist tightened, as he brought his other to rest on your thigh.

you shuddered at his touch, your beach towel slipping away from your torso and pooling by your hips. spencer deepened the kiss, as you leaned forward, pressing your body against his. you kissed back hungrily, trailing your hands to cup his face.

spencer pulled away, taking in your features. your eyelids were heavy, your lips slightly swollen. a grin spread across his face as you leaned back in pressing a kiss to your jaw, then to below your ear.

“spence?-“ you breathed out, resting your arms around his shoulders as he continued peppering kisses along your neck before returning to your lips. spencer had wanted to kiss you for months, and now it was finally happening, he wanted to savour every moment.

his lips were soft, his kiss much more tentative this time, spencer’s hands tracing over your figure.

you both pulled back to gaze at one another, heavy breaths slipping from your lips. you could practically feel the heat radiating off of spencer. you both sat for a moment, in silence, taking in what had just happened.

“will you go for a swim with me now?” you questioned.

“i think i’ll need to after that..”

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you

1K notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 9 months

Text

Aphrodisiac Liquor

— Synopsis: Where you're out for a night with your friends, and you decide to try an aphrodisiac liquor, feeling the warmth gradually spreading through your body, your best friend Mingyu starts to appear a little too sexy. — Word Count: 5.1k — WARNINGS: smut, oral (f. and m. receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, chocking, overstimulation, alcohol consumption, horny asf reader, fucked out Mingyu, objetification (Mingyu mentions himself as reader's fuck toy), and dick riding.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the dimly lit club, enveloping the dance floor in a rhythmic energy that matched the collective excitement of the reunited friends. You stood in the center of the vibrant chaos, surrounded by familiar faces and the lively atmosphere of the night.

Mingyu, your best friend, flashed a wide grin as he clinked his drink against yours. "Cheers to finally getting the gang back together!" he shouted over the music, laughter twinkling in his eyes. The last few gatherings had always felt incomplete, someone missing here or there, but tonight was different. Everyone was present, and the joy was palpable.

Woozi, the voice of reason in your group, raised an eyebrow as he observed the already empty bottles scattered across the table. "I hope you two are keeping your promise about not drinking too much," he teased, sipping his own drink with a smirk.

You and Mingyu exchanged guilty glances, aware that your resolve was already wavering. However, compared to the chaos that was unfolding around you, with Dokyeom dancing his way through the crowd like a human pinball, Seungkwan engaging in animated conversations that almost turned into arguments, and Soonyoung returning from the bar with two more bottles of liquor in hand, you and Mingyu felt relatively composed.

"Alright, I admit, maybe we'll take it easy," you chuckled, watching as Dokyeom narrowly avoided another collision on the dance floor.

Mingyu nodded in agreement, but his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Just a little more won't hurt, right?" he said, pouring a modest amount into his glass.

As the night progressed, the club transformed into a haven of laughter, dancing, and unrestrained merriment. The DJ played a mix of old favorites and current hits, prompting everyone to let loose on the dance floor. Woozi found himself reluctantly pulled into a lively dance circle, while Dokyeom continued his mission to navigate the crowd with unpredictable dance moves.

As Soonyoung proudly presented the array of liquor bottles on the table, your eyes were drawn to one particular bottle covered in an intriguing green and purple cloth. Curiosity piqued, you reached for a shot cup and poured yourself a small measure of the mysterious concoction. The liquid gleamed in the dim light of the club, promising an adventure for your taste buds.

Bringing the cup to your lips, you took a shot, savoring the sweet burn that spread across your tongue. The flavor was unique, a blend of sweetness and warmth that left a tingling sensation in its wake. Intrigued, you picked up the bottle to read more about the drink. Just under the bold name "Har" was a smaller inscription that caught your attention – "aphrodisiac drink."

You chuckled, dismissing it as a mere marketing gimmick. Placing the bottle back on the table, you rejoined the conversation with Chan, discussing music, life, and everything in between. However, as the minutes passed, you couldn't shake the subtle change in the atmosphere around you.

As Chan's voice faded into the background, your focus shifted to an inexplicable sensation coursing through your veins. A warmth, almost like a surge of electricity, tingled beneath your skin, spreading from the center of your being. Mingyu's concerned gaze met yours as you struggled to steady yourself.

"I-I'm okay," you managed to stammer out, trying to mask the sudden rush of sensations that seemed to intensify with every passing second.

But as Mingyu reached out a hand, concerned etched on his face, the effects of the mysterious drink became undeniable. Your heart raced, a flush painting your cheeks as your breaths quickened. The realization hit you like a lightning bolt – that bottle, hidden under the cloth, wasn't just any liquor. It was something more potent, something that had triggered a profound reaction within you.

"Maybe it wasn't just a slogan," you muttered, feeling both flustered and perplexed by the unexpected turn of events.

Mingyu's eyes widened in understanding as he glimpsed the bottle's label. His eyebrows shot up, mirroring your own astonishment. "An aphrodisiac drink? Seriously?" He sulks at you.

The room seemed to spin slightly as your senses heightened, and you struggled to regain composure. Mingyu steadied you, concerned. "We need to get you some fresh air," he suggested, guiding you away from the table and the increasingly curious gazes of your friends.

The air outside the club was cool against your heated skin, a welcome relief from the whirlwind of sensations that had taken hold. Mingyu hovered nearby, offering a steadying presence as you tried to regain your equilibrium.

"Is it getting any better?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

You nodded, feeling the effects slowly subside. "Yeah, I think so..."

The two of you shared a glance, a mixture of amusement and disbelief coloring the moment. Mingyu chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "Note to self: avoid mysterious cloth-covered bottles from now on."

Mingyu's suggestion to head home triggered a mix of frustration and amusement within you. "I'm fine, really," you protested, your voice carrying a hint of irritation. The effects of the drink had subsided, leaving you feeling more embarrassed than anything else, but Mingyu's protectiveness had a way of both comforting and irking you at the same time.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on. You were practically ready to start a revolution back there," he teased, nudging you gently. "Let's not have you causing chaos in the club."

With a begrudging nod, you relented, acknowledging the logic in his words despite your reluctance. The taxi ride was a blur of streetlights and passing cars, the cool glass of the window offering a soothing sensation against your forehead as you leaned against it.

Mingyu sat beside you, occasionally stealing glances to ensure you were alright. "I know it's a bit annoying, but I'd rather get you home safe," he said, his tone softened by genuine concern.

A sigh escaped your lips, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude mingling within you. "I appreciate it, even if I'm not a fan of being babied," you admitted, offering a small smile in acknowledgment of his efforts.

The rest of the ride was spent in comfortable silence, the cityscape passing by as the taxi made its way toward your destination. Despite the unusual turn of events and Mingyu's overprotective nature, there was a sense of reassurance in having a friend who cared so deeply.

As the taxi rolled along the city streets, the heat returned, and your discomfort grew. The air conditioning in the taxi seemed to be struggling against the warmth, leaving you feeling a bit flustered. Mingyu, ever resourceful, rummaged through the pocket behind the driver's seat and emerged triumphantly with a flyer.

He grinned mischievously, turning the flyer into an impromptu fan. With a flourish, he began fanning you, creating a makeshift breeze that elicited a burst of laughter from both of you. The absurdity of the situation and Mingyu's quick thinking turned the taxi into a scene of amusement rather than discomfort.

Arriving home, the cool air of your apartment was a welcome relief from the residual warmth of the night. Mingyu, seemingly accustomed to the layout of your place, strolled in as if it were his own. The comfort of having him around, especially on a random Tuesday or after an eventful night, was a testament to the strength of your friendship.

As you disappeared into the bathroom for a much-needed cold bath, the sound of the TV coming to life echoed through the apartment. Mingyu had settled onto the couch, making himself at home with ease. The flickering light from the TV cast a soft glow on the living room, creating a cozy ambiance.

The cold water worked wonders against the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink, leaving you feeling refreshed – but not feeling like yourself, since the discomfort between your legs was still noticeable.

As you settled onto the couch beside Mingyu, he handed you a cold bottle of water, his concern for your well-being evident. The movie played on the screen, and you tried to focus on the plot, letting the scenes unfold before you. However, your attention kept drifting to the person seated next to you.

Mingyu's features seemed to catch the light in just the right way – the well-combed black hair, the slightly open buttons of his shirt, and the casual roll of his sleeves revealing the tan skin of his forearms. Your gaze couldn't help but linger on the details that seemed to intensify in the dim glow of the TV. His thick thighs encased in denim drew your eyes, and the flickering light played on his lips, making them seem unusually inviting.

Caught in the moment, your eyes met his, and a sudden awareness passed between you. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, attempting to redirect your thoughts back to the movie. You scolded yourself for entertaining such thoughts, trying to dismiss the images that lingered in your mind.

Mingyu, however, noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a curious look. "Everything okay?" he asked, his eyes lingering on yours.

You nodded quickly, taking a sip of the cold water to distract yourself. "Yeah, just got lost in thought for a moment."

You fought to maintain your focus on the movie, but an undeniable sweetness lingered on your palate, a reminder of the lingering effects of the aphrodisiac drink. The cold bath, despite its earlier refreshing touch, seemed futile in quelling the simmering heat beneath your skin. – To be honest, now the bath didn't work shit – It pulsed through you, intensifying with each passing moment.

Your breath, once steady, now betrayed your internal turmoil. It hitched as your cheeks burned, a telltale sign of the heightened sensations coursing through your body. The discomfort between your legs became an increasingly insistent presence, pussy throbbing demanding attention.

Mingyu, sitting casually beside you, seemed to emit an allure that was impossible to ignore. His features, accentuated by the soft glow of the TV, drew your attention like a moth to a flame.

Your body seemed to betray your attempts to remain composed. Mingyu, your trusted friend, had always been someone you found attractive, but in this moment, every detail about him seemed to amplify that allure.

The internal struggle reached its peak, and you couldn't ignore the discomfort any longer. Closing your legs tightly, you attempted to find some relief, the unbidden desire making focus impossible. In a moment of desperation, you closed your eyes, hoping to regain some semblance of control.

Mingyu, sensing something amiss, took a deep breath and voiced his concern. "Are you really okay?" he asked, genuine worry etched on his face.

Opening your eyes, you knew that you looked far from composed, also known as, absolutely fucked. The internal chaos was surely mirrored in your expression. Mingyu, in his caring nature, reached a hand towards your forehead, then gently slid it down to your neck, checking for signs of fever or any indication of what might be troubling you.

As his hand moved across your skin, he could feel the heat emanating from your body, but the cause remained uncertain. The brief journey from your forehead to your neck sent shivers down your spine, and he noticed your body's involuntary response.

Meeting your gaze with a look of defeat, Mingyu asked, "What am I going to do with you?" The vulnerability of the moment was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected turn the night had taken. Mingyu, torn between concern for your well-being and the confusing dynamics of the situation, faced a dilemma that neither of you had anticipated. The unspoken tension lingered, leaving both of you suspended in a moment that seemed to redefine the boundaries of your friendship.

You found a temporary reprieve by supporting your elbow on your knees, your face cradled in your hands, desperately trying to manage the sensations coursing through your body. Mingyu, sensing your distress, gently asked, "Do you need any help?" His hand rested on your knee, the touch seemingly innocent, lacking any intentional undertones.

Lifting your torso, you looked at him with an expression that conveyed both suffering and confusion. "How?" you managed to utter, the desperation evident in your voice.

He pondered for a moment, sincerity coloring his words. "I honestly don't know," Mingyu admitted, his eyes searching for a solution to the unforeseen dilemma.

Closing your eyes tightly, you breathed loudly, attempting to steady yourself. In a moment of impulsivity, you grabbed his wrist, your eyes still shut, and began guiding his hand higher and higher.

Mingyu's eyes widened, his attempts to maintain composure faltering. "You're not in the right mind right now," he warned, trying to inject a note of reason into the situation.

You, however, remained persistent, continuing to guide his hand higher with a suffered expression. Mingyu felt a mixture of confusion and a growing awareness that the dynamics of the moment were shifting. He struggled to compose himself, realizing that the unexpected turn of events was challenging not only for you but for him as well.

The charged atmosphere enveloped both of you as you laid your head on Mingyu's shoulder, intertwining your hands together. His touch on your thigh was hesitant, his caress slow and deliberate. Your breath, warm against his neck, sent shivers down his spine.

Mingyu bit his lip, deep in thought as he analyzed the situation. He could feel the tension in the air, the unspoken desires that hung between you two. The grip on your thigh tightened involuntarily as he contemplated the ways to help you, the weight of his own internal struggle evident in the furrow of his brow.

A soft moan escaped your lips, a sound that resonated through both of you. Mingyu, caught off guard by the effect his touch had on you, felt his body respond involuntarily. His grip tightened on your thigh, and a subtle warmth spread through him.

In the midst of the charged atmosphere, you sulked sultrily, your voice a low murmur that made Mingyu's body react. "What are you waiting for?" you whispered, your sultry tone sending a wave of heat through him.

Caught between the tension of the moment and the realization that there was only one effective way to help you, – fuck you until you're fully satisfied – Mingyu hesitated.

"Fuck, Y/N, I don't know," Mingyu uttered, his frustration and arousal intermingling in his voice. The charged tension in the air seemed to escalate as you lifted your face, bringing it dangerously close to his lips. Your noses brushed together, a subtle and tantalizing gesture that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Please Mingyu, please…" Your sultry tone continued to play with his senses, teasing and arousing. Mingyu, caught in the moment, found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull between you two. He managed to steal a glance at your tank top, the falling straps exposing your shoulder and the hardened nipple teasingly visible through the fabric.

In an unexpected twist, the charged atmosphere culminated in a daring move. Mingyu suddenly felt the touch of your lips on his, and his initial surprise transformed into a profound connection. Before fully giving in to the kiss, he took a momentary glance at you, a silent agreement passing between your locked eyes.

As your lips melded together, Mingyu's hand instinctively found its way to your hair, holding it gently. The kiss deepened, his mouth opening to caress your tongue with his in a dance of shared desire. The world around you seemed to fade away as you both melted into each other's arms, the unspoken tension finding its release in the passionate connection that had unexpectedly blossomed between you.

The intensity of the moment heightened as Mingyu's hand ventured inside your tank top, exploring the warmth of your skin, almost burning the skin of his hand. His fingers danced across your belly, tracing the contours of your waist, before finding their way to cup your breast. The touch sent shivers down your spine, and the heat radiating from your skin seemed to intensify under his caress.

Mingyu, his voice a low whisper, remarked on the undeniable heat emanating from your body. "Fuck baby, you're so hot…"

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips as Mingyu's touch on your breast elicited a visceral response. You acknowledged his observation with a sultry tone, admitting, "I know," the words laden with desire. The unspoken tension between you two reached a boiling point as you confessed, "I need you so bad Gyu!"

Mingyu, propelled by a sense of urgency, swiftly guided you to the large couch. Without hesitation, he laid you down, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. The fervor of the moment heightened as his hands moved with purpose, skillfully pulling down the elastic of your shorts and panties, freeing your lower half in one fluid motion.

Mingyu wasted no time, his fingers skillfully exploring inside your wet sensitive folds, making squelching sounds reaching your ears, while his thumb worked circles on your clit, making your eyes close – finally a relief for your body – and Mingyu notices that too, making him smile at the way your body was slowly stopping from being tense.

"Is it helping?" he asked, seeking confirmation.

You nodded, acknowledging the relief his actions had brought, but the sensations left you craving more. "It's good, but I need more," you admitted, the desire for something deeper and more intense evident in your voice.

He teased, recalling your earlier affirmation that it was enough. "Well, you said it was enough," Mingyu remarked, playfully challenging your request for more.

Your plea for increased intensity grew more urgent, and he paused, halting his movements abruptly. The sudden stop made you cry out, the rush of sensations abruptly cut off. "I need more Mingyu-ah!" you begged, your voice filled with longing and a desperate plea for the heightened pleasure you desired.

The atmosphere crackled with a palpable intensity as Mingyu, driven by the escalating desire, hastily removed his shirt, buttons scattering in the living room like a visual manifestation of the urgency in the air. His pants followed suit, tugged down with an eagerness that echoed the building tension between you two.

Just when you anticipated he would hover over you, Mingyu surprised you by getting down instead. From this new vantage point, he looked up at you, your legs spread, his gaze locked onto your aroused form, red cheeks, your pussy glistening, hair gluing on your skin and parted lips.

Mingyu's words, spoken in a low, husky tone, carried a mix of surprise and desire. "I should've seen this coming, but... You look so wet," he remarked, his gaze shifting from your face to your core.

Mingyu, his eyes still locked on the intimate revelation before him, couldn't help but voice the question lingering in his mind. "Is it because of the drink?" he asked, a hint of concern and curiosity in his voice.

You met his gaze, a mix of honesty and desire reflected in your eyes. "Yes," you replied, acknowledging the role the mysterious drink had played in heightening the sensations coursing through your body. But then, with a subtle but deliberate emphasis, you added, "But also because of you."

The weight of your admission hung in the air, and Mingyu, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and arousal, sought confirmation. "For real?" he asked, seeking assurance.

In response, you simply nodded. Mingyu, fueled by the shared desire and the realness of the moment, wasted no time. His mouth found your core, and the sudden sensation made you jolt, "Ah! Mingyu s-shit!" a gasp escaping your lips as you called out his name.

He rolls his tongue around your throbbing and puffy clit, before sucking it between his red swollen lips. Mingyu's hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you closer and causing you to slide along the couch. The sudden movement left you in a state of disbelief, and your hands instinctively flew to cover your face. The realization that your best friend was now intimately between your legs, eating you out, overwhelmed you, and a mixture of shock and pleasure lingered in the air. "Fuck- gonna cum…" Your voice cracked.

The rush of sensations made your thighs involuntarily squeeze around Mingyu's head, a surge of pleasure intermingled with the overwhelming intensity of the moment. He shot you a glance, a mix of amusement and appreciation for the sudden pressure, as he continued to lavish attention on your most sensitive places. Your feet brushed against the skin of his back, the physical contact adding another layer of intimacy.

The warmth of your release against his mouth sent a shiver through Mingyu, the sensation exhilarating. The way you arched your back, screaming, calling out his name, in a tone he'd never heard you call before, made his cock twitch inside of his boxers. Mingyu found himself reveling in the sensation, realizing that this uncharted territory had opened up a new, unexplored dimension in your friendship.

Mingyu, still basking in the aftermath of the shared moment, took a moment to peel off his boxers. His arousal was evident, and the sight of his cock slapping against his abdomen left you watching in awe.

Feeling a surge of desire, you looked at him with a newfound boldness and asked, "Can I ride you?"

Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. He laughed, the sound filled with a mix of amusement and desire, before responding, "Sure, baby."

The air was thick with anticipation as you straddled Mingyu's thighs, his desire evident in the teasing glare he directed at you. Taking control, you began to pump his dick with deliberate movements, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Guiding him to your entrance, you felt the stretch as he entered you, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. The ease with which he slid into you only intensified the raw pleasure of the moment. Mingyu's moan of approval, a low and satisfied "Hmmm" echoed through the room.

With your hips rolling in a rhythmic dance, you couldn't resist the urge to pull your top up, exposing more of your tits. However, Mingyu, seemingly wanting control, pushed your hands away. His fingers began to flicker over your exposed nipples, a teasing and tantalizing touch that made you mewl in response.

Mingyu's words, a command laden with desire, hung in the air. "Use me as your little toy," he urged.

The suggestion lingered, and you, caught in the intensity of the moment, questioned if he was truly willing. "Will you let me?" you asked, smiling mischievous while your hips worked harder.

His response came in a low, throaty moan, filled with both need and consent. "Yes, I'm yours. Use me as much as you want," Mingyu declared.

"Bet."

As you lowered your body, sinking your hips harder with each motion, Mingyu's grip on your waist tightened. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving the promise of bruises. Mingyu, fueled by the idea of being your little fuck toy, couldn't contain the rush of sensations overwhelming his mind.

The rhythm of your hips took on a frantic, fast pace, causing Mingyu to question whether his legs could even leave the couch. The intensity of the experience pushed him to the brink, as his cries grew louder, bordering on uncontrollable, he begged you to slow down, fearing he wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. "Shit b-babe slow down!" His plea held a desperate undertone, a warning of what was to come if the pace continued.

In response, you choked him gently with one hand, a firm yet commanding gesture. "Be quiet," you whispered, a note of authority in your tone. The threat of a noise complaint lingered in the air.

The sensation of your hand wrapped around Mingyu's throat, barely cutting off his air, made him gasp for breath. The delicate balance between pleasure and restriction sent waves of a delicious intensity through him. As you rolled your eyes, feeling your orgasm approaching, the grip on him tightened, and he arched his back, attempting to hold onto his own release.

The climax approached with an overwhelming force as your pussy crushed Mingyu's cock, inducing spasms of pleasure that rippled through his body. Your moans intertwined with the thick tears rolling down your cheeks, a culmination of the release from the tension that had built up throughout the night. The intensity hit like a tidal wave, leaving you feeling momentarily unstable.

Sensing your need for support, Mingyu struggled in pleasure to get up. He reached out to you, holding you close as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, crying out his name.

"Yeah, baby, I know it feels too good, right? I got you," Mingyu murmured, his words a reassuring melody in the aftermath of the intense orgasm.

Driven by a lingering desire that had occupied your mind since the beginning of the night, – suck Mingyu's cock until you're unconscious – you decided to act on your newfound craving. Eagerly, you untangled yourself from Mingyu's embrace, his stability still offering support as you made your way towards your intended destination.

Your eagerness didn't leave room for hesitation. With a toss of your hair to the side, you seized the opportunity, pushing Mingyu's cock deep into your throat. The sudden, intense action caught him off guard, and his mouth opened wide in surprise, not expecting the eager and daring move you had just made.

The room was filled with a mix of sounds—the wet, rhythmic movements, his gasps of pleasure, and the unspoken understanding that the night had taken yet another unexpected turn.

A prolonged "Fuuuuck" escaped from Mingyu's lips as you continued to bob your head incessantly, the wet, rhythmic sounds of your slurping echoing through the room. The intensity of your actions caused his cheeks to flush, and the pleasure you were delivering was almost overwhelming. Mingyu, lost in the sensations you were creating, felt himself melting into the couch, completely absorbed in the pleasure of the moment.

Mingyu's tip pushed against the back of your throat, your lips grazing his pelvis. He held onto the material of the couch, feeling the tension radiate through his entire body. The moment climaxed with the forceful release of his cum, the spurts going down your throat.

"Oh my god Y/N!" As you continued to suck, Mingyu's body flinched in the aftermath of his release. His voice, now thin and breathless, pleaded with you to stop.

"Please, stop," he managed to utter, the intensity of the sensations still coursing through him.

You allowed Mingyu's soft cock to fall gently onto his stomach with a faint pop of your lips. Surveying his body, now laid defeated on the couch, you asked, "You okay?"

He nodded, his hands finally releasing their tight grip on the couch fabric. "Yeah," he affirmed, his breaths still slightly uneven.

Mingyu, his voice tinted with a mix of surprise and realization, whimpered, "You were horny as fuck, weren't you?"

A smile played on your lips as you replied, "Sorry if it was too much."

Exhausted, Mingyu closed his eyes and confessed, grinning "I loved it."

Mingyu, with a tired but content sigh, raised his arm, reaching out to pull you into a comfortable embrace. You settled against his chest, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. The living room was scattered with discarded clothes, a testament to the intensity of the night that had unfolded.

As sleep began to claim both of you, Mingyu's rhythmic breathing served as a calming lullaby. His fingers gently traced patterns through your hair as you drifted into a peaceful slumber on his chest.

The morning light filtering through the curtains woke you from your slumber, accompanied by the gentle sensation of Mingyu's fingers tracing patterns on your back. As you lifted your head and rubbed your eyes, you realized you probably didn't look your best. Thankful that Mingyu had seen you wake up before, you hid your face in the crook of his neck, seeking a moment's refuge.

With a husky voice, Mingyu spoke up, breaking the quiet morning atmosphere. "I'm definitely buying another bottle of that liquor for us," he declared, the memory of the eventful night prompting a teasing smile.

The shared sentiment about the unforgettable night echoed in his words, encapsulating the adventurous journey you and Mingyu had embarked on. The unspoken understanding and the newfound closeness between you two lingered in the air, marking the beginning of a bond that had evolved beyond the boundaries of mere friendship.

3K notes · View notes

ktownshizzle · 28 days

Text

Wild & Free | Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Warnings: Mild angst, cursing lol, mentions of sex, pining and lots of it, reader is insecure, couple of idiots truly, covid didn’t happen, one mention of recreational gambling (we're in Vegas!), canon moments I botched for my own use, ginger Yoongi is a warning in and of itself, angry Yoongi, cliches ‘cos meh, possible inaccuracies about Las Vegas - been there once, but details used in the story are just from research. Also, I get that Las Vegas weddings might seem tacky to some. Coming from a background of traditional, elaborate ceremonies, the characters in this story are genuinely surprised by this simpler approach. After all, a wedding is really just about you and your partner, and that’s the essence we’re exploring here. ♡ If you can get on board with that, then let's head to the Tunnel of Love! Viva Las Vegas! 🙂

Word Count: 7.2k (approx. 30 mins.)

Posting date: August 31, 2024

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you.

On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Kim Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Min Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

It's great to finally get some down time with the crew. After such a fast-paced, high production tour, everybody needed to blow off some steam. This Korean BBQ restaurant off the Strip was the perfect venue to get the team together for samgyupsal and drinks. The vibes are, as the kids say, immaculate.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you almost accusingly.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you’re wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

Record scratch.

Did he really just-

Thankfully, you recover.

“Stop playing,” you say, trying to sound casual. But your face probably betrays the internal turmoil happening in your brain. You fear the day will come that he will have caught on to the unshakeable something you have been harboring for the better part of the last decade.

See, there’s always been an unspoken tension between you and Yoongi, something neither of you ever addressed or acted upon. Perhaps, in your younger days, there were moments when you felt your friendship was on the verge of becoming something more. But then he debuted as an idol, and things took off, and you were robbed of time. With his group’s growing popularity and you managing his personal career, the possibility of exploring anything beyond friendship and your work rapport became even more distant.

You feel like a bug under a microscope the way he observes you with a lopsided grin and while you try to hold his gaze, this clown interrupts.

"If y'all done eye-fucking each other, some of us are heading back." A drunk Park Jimin says with a mischievous grin, eyes crinkling like crescents. You could almost throw up.

Your eyes shift back to Yoongi and he just blinks in that blank way he does and bends to collect his bag from under his chair, completely ignoring his bandmate.

‘Fuck you,’ you mouth to Jimin hastily. Just enough time before Yoongi emerges with his backpack and your tote, which he already slung on his own shoulder.

You try to take it from him, but he waves you off.

"We're in bus 2," Jimin sings-songs and walks off, looking every bit the trouble-maker.

Thing is, you made the mistake of confiding in Jimin once, last year. You got drunk after getting dumped by some guy you met on Bumble three dates down, though it really was the sting of learning that Yoongi took one of Psy’s backup dancers out for coffee, even if it was just casual, that pushed you off the edge and into a bar in Hannam Intersection. Coincidentally, Jimin was there with that cute idol from Shinee and some other guys, but he joined you when he saw you looking like shit.

After learning about your long-standing crush (thank God you did not drop the L-bomb), Jimin would occasionally tease you, much to your chagrin. He’s careful not to push things too far, but it’s clear he sees himself as a bit of a cupid. You keep telling him that nothing will come of it, but he just won’t let up.

You are scared for things to change between you and Yoongi, not when everything is just how it’s supposed to be.

Not when you believe in your heart that if anything would have happened, it already should have.

And you would snuff the last embers of the torch that you keep holding out for him if only you knew how.

"Drive-thru weddings?" Yoongi enunciates in English, with the slightest lisp that you have always found so endearing. As your tour bus passes by chapel after wedding chapel, he continues to wonder out loud. "People get married there?"

Namjoon turns his head to look at Yoongi from his seat in front. "Yeah, hyung. They don't even need to get out of their car. It's just like a McDonald's. But they get a marriage license instead of a burger."

“Really? And people do this? Like, randomly?”

“Yeah, some celebrities decided to do it that way, but I assume many people do, too. I mean, look how many we’ve passed already.” Namjoon says with a tiny grin, cheek dimpling.

"Mm." Yoongi hums and you're curious about that faraway look on his face as he stares outside.

“Are you interested?” You joke lamely, instantly regretting opening your mouth. Why do you keep propositioning him? You blame that ‘one for the road’ shot of soju you downed on the way out of the restaurant.

He studies your face, before he replies lowly, so only you can hear, “Are you asking?”

Fuck, he’s bold. He’s also a bit drunk, but everyone knows he can drink anyone under the table. You know this is not the first time he got weirdly flirty with you after one too many drinks, so you take it in stride.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Hoseok's voice booms from the back and with a chorus of laughs ringing inside the vehicle, you take that as a sign that this is definitely just the effect of being in Sin City.

A few beats after and you steal a glance at Yoongi, finding his gaze transfixed at a sign that read: "The Little White Wedding Chapel".

Last day of the Las Vegas tour and while you are glad it is almost done, your heart aches as you remember that this is also your last one, ever. Your 60-day notice is already running, having tendered your resignation a month after LA wrapped up.

As great of a job as it is, your heart seems to always be at odds because of the lingering feelings you have for Yoongi. Everyday, you find yourself trapped in the limbo of unspoken feelings and missed chances. The endless “what ifs” weigh you down, and you can’t summon the courage to confront them. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own, and you hoped that stepping away from this life might jumpstart your next chapter, as BTS is also about to embark on theirs.

With the group taking a break for solo projects and gearing up for their military service, it seemed like the perfect moment for you to explore something different, too. Maybe finally open that cafe you’ve always wanted. Maybe you can also meet somebody, especially since your eomma has been on your back even more lately about giving her a grandchild.

You weren't planning to sever ties with Yoongi entirely, or at all. There’s too much history between you two to just walk away from the friendship. But you were desperate to let go of the emotional baggage.

The thing is, you have not told anyone. Not even Yoongi. Especially not Yoongi. It is highly likely that he will try to stop you and press for reasons, and you can't tell him that you’re in love with him, can you? Just… no. What a fuckin’ cliche.

You don’t know when you will be ready to tell him the truth, but it needs to be soon.

You find him on the side of the stage, eyes locked in on his phone that he held with one hand and you already can tell he is watching a documentary with the way his face is screwed up in concentration. His ‘watching a cat video’ face was infinitely more smiley, that's for sure.

He lifts his sleepy eyes up as you approach, handing you a latte that he apparently picked up for you from that place across the street, because the coffee from the catering ‘tastes like shit.’

Before you can say thanks, Yoongi exclaims, “Omo! Michael Jordan got married there?”

Your confusion must be written all over your face, because he quickly explains, “You know in one of those drive-thru wedding chapels we saw the other night. Wow. I can't believe Jordan did that.”

He pauses the video and turns the screen toward you, revealing a white building decked out with all sorts of decorations reminiscent of Valentine's day. The way he looks at you, expectantly, makes you feel like you should share his excitement, but you're a bit stumped. “Yoongi-ah, why are you watching this?”

He fidgets with a sheepish grin. “Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Korean weddings can be so complicated, you know? Hyung was really frustrated with all the traditions at his wedding.” He shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed but trying to stay casual. “Here, it seems like you just need the right person. And maybe some courage. Okay, a lot of courage. I just— I don’t know, I find it fascinating.”

He nods to himself, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Totally endeared, you hop to sit beside him on the stage, bump your shoulder with his, and say, “Go on, press play.”

The tiniest of frowns that has settled between his brows smoothes out and he angles the screen more towards you before resuming the video.

Turns out it really is fascinating (Omo! Joe Jonas also got married there! But wait, isn't he divorced now?), so you watch a few more clips, before soundcheck starts.

You’ve always known Yoongi to have massive hyperfixations. In fact, you’re not at all surprised when that night during the concert, he even cheekily says to the crowd during his ment, “Welcome to Las Vegas, with the drive-thru wedding.” And of course, the audience eats it up, those wearing Shooky headbands, veils or holding “Yoongi, marry me” signs end up being the loudest.

But while you’ve supported all his previous mini-obsessions (League of Legends, Dalgona coffee, woodworking) until he over-indulged to the point of almost flushing it out of his system, you are not quite sure how else to help him with this one.

Unless of course, you… hah, you wish.

The tour wraps up successfully. The boys have different group and individual schedules before they return to Seoul. For Yoongi, a shoot for his photofolio, and some b-roll content for his upcoming documentary was on deck for him, you, and his crew.

The drive up to the desert was pretty uneventful as mostly everyone was asleep. You arrive sometime in the afternoon and immediately get to work in order to catch the golden hour. Yoongi has disappeared into the makeup trailer and you busy yourself with checking the preps.

The theme was glamping. Though Yoongi would never admit that that was the concept he approved. He would most likely say something more deep and poetic, that the setting is a poignant portrayal of his growth as a person and a metaphorical exploration of his artistry… Or something like that.

Things were running a little later than you like, which always happens when you are doing shoots overseas, so you volunteer to help with the set design. Placing some of the props near the camper van, you take a second to decide whether to use the metal cup or the ceramic mug, when a sleepy voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Set looks great. Good job."

You turn your head to look at Yoongi and wow his hair is orange.

The color of his favorite citrus and of course he looks sexy as fuck. He smells phenomenal, too–like mandarins with a hint of spice. You are in so much trouble. Seems your mouth is filled with cotton the way you are unable to make a sound.

“Yah! I spent hours on this new hair, you're not going to say anything?” he whines with a small pout.

You snicker at his cute expression, reaching out to touch the ends of his hair very lightly else the glam team unnies might scold you. “You look like a cat.”

“Ugh,” he groans, walking away with what you now realize is a stick of marshmallows in his right hand.

“No, Yoongi, it's cute,” You follow him as he stops in front of the bonfire, roasting the marshmallows over it briefly before taking a bite, still not placated by your words.

You decide to put him out of his misery. “You look good. Like really good. ARMY would probably even say sexy.” You inwardly cringe at the last bit–using ARMY to voice out your inner thirst, really?

Nonetheless, Yoongi's reaction is priceless. His lips stretch into a thin line, chin dimpling as he pretends to not enjoy the compliment that he very well fished for.

“Ok quit acting like an emoji and let me take your photos for IG.” You take your phone out and snap a few pics of him posing with the marshmallow, some without it. A couple of him grinning, gummy smiles on display, and you know you need to keep some of these for yourself when the inevitable comes and you won't see his face everyday.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to his side, arm going around your shoulder. A whiff of his musk has you swooning which you hope he does not notice.

Your phone is taken. He snaps a few selfies of you both and tsks when he sees your lock screen.

“Tablo-hyung, still? You know he's literally married and has a kid, right?”

You make a face and snatch your phone from his grasp. “Yah! As if you're not an idol and your face is not the wallpaper of thousands of people.”

“I think you mean millions.”

“Ass.” You try to shove him, but his hand closes in on your phone again.

Swipes and taps later, he seems satisfied and your phone is handed back to you, before he walks off without so much as a goodbye.

What did he do?

Wait.

Tablo is gone.

And the tableau in his place is one of the photos you just took with him. Eyes twinkling, smiles identical. The picture of a seemingly perfect couple.

Oh, damn. You really are a goner.

You send the pic to Jimin a little later. His response was unwelcome.

Jimin: You two have literal heart eyes for each other. So cute.

You: Not helping.

Jimin: Just tell him how you feel.

You: Again, not helping.

Jimin: What's your plan?

You: Do you really wanna know?

You ring him. Might as well tell somebody.

In between layouts, Yoongi films interviews for some magazines. You have complete faith in him and his media relations skills at this point. Smart, thought-provoking Yoongi can wow any interviewer, sometimes to the point where numbers have been slipped inside his coat pocket. Thank God this one is on Zoom, ‘cause you can’t deal with something like that happening right now.

You caught wind of something that he said during the interview and you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Sometimes, it feels like my life is just a sequence of obligations and schedules,” he tells the online reporter. “I can’t even remember the last time I made plans for myself. Being here in Las Vegas is refreshing. It’s like everyone is just living by their own rules. I don’t think I’m like that at all.”

"Do you want to be like that?" The reporter asks.

"Maybe..." he shrugs, sinking a bit lower on the chair he was on.

It was late and the crew was just winding down before packing up the set.

“How was your day?” he asks you with a soft smile. You can see the tiredness in his eyes.

“Not bad,” you say, taking a spot beside him on the picnic blanket that was still on set. He seems pensive.

“Did you ever think we would get this far?” he asks. “Couple of Daegu kids, now running around in America.”

“Who would've thought…” you say, observing him. His eyes were stoic, but you know he's got something else on his mind, something bothering him.

“You said something in your interview earlier.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?”

“Not bad per se, I just never heard you say it in an interview before. About not feeling like you can make your own plans. Like life has become a series of schedules.”

He hums and takes a sip of something from the mug he is holding. Your nose tells you it is definitely not hot cocoa.

“I’ve come to terms with it for the most part, you know,” he sighs looking out into the vastness. “But plans are good. Makes me feel like there is a point to all this.”

You follow his line of vision and sigh. You knew he was feeling a lot of stress lately. His life was not easy. You hate that you have to pile on top of it.

“We need to start planning D-day soon. It's going to be so busy with the album and the tour and all the content we have to make. Oh God, we might have to do fan calls, but I'm so embarrassed when I do it.”

You mimic his hum, getting disoriented with his use of ‘we’. He still doesn't know that word would be null and void soon.

“By the way, we gotta come up with a different name for the Youtube show. I can't pronounce it. Sich? Sush? Shit-”

“Suchwita,” you say, guilt settling in your tummy.

“...and we have that collab with Halsey for what’s that game again? Doom? No, Diablo! We used to play that before, remember? I think we might be doing a music video for that one.”

Just tell him. This would be the best time.

“Look, Yoongi I-”

“Thank you,” he suddenly says, in a tone so soft, and the way he punctuates it with your name makes your heart soar.

Your eyes snap to him, the slight pinks dusting his cheeks make him look like the teenage boy you met in music school.

“I’m not good at this - fuck, this is so awkward - umm but I've really been meaning to tell you that I appreciate you.” He continues, “You're really important to me.”

You try to fight back a smile at how elated you are, but can’t. And maybe he needs to see how happy this is making you. How happy he is making you.

In the years that you've known him there were two distinct moments that made you believe that just as you have been in love with him, maybe he was in love with you, too. And as you watch him rub his crinkled nose, trying to act chill but can't, you somehow convince your fickle heart that this might be the third.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, with all this talk about our ‘chapter 2’...”

“Yeah?”

“I know things are going to change, but I’m glad you’re still here. I honestly don't know what I'm doing half the time, but you, you give me direction,” he smiles, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you seriously thanking me for my constant nagging?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “I’m thanking you for being my friend.”

Oh. Ouch.

His lips keep moving and moving, and he is saying things with a fond smile, but your ears can’t register a single word. Except that single word: friend. Because, that’s all he sees you as, and that’s all you’ll ever be, and lest you need a reminder, that’s why you did what you did.

Disappointment cracks through your core and your lungs are suddenly devoid of air and you feel the urgent need to step away.

“Sorry Yoongi, I- I have to go.”

“Huh?” The light in his face fades, replaced by a frown and confused eyes that are watching your every move.

“Wait, did I say something? Tell me what's wrong.”

Don’t cry. Shit. Don’t cry.

“I've nothing to tell you.”

You grimace at how stiff you sounded but before you can rectify anything, your feet take you to the nearest trailer. You close the door and drop to your knees as uncontrollable sobs rack your body.

You rein yourself in after a few minutes, wiping your tears on the back of your sleeve. You fish your phone out from your pocket, the photo on your lock screen twisting the knife lodged in your heart.

You ring the first person on your recent contacts.

“I can’t do it, Jiminah.”

“What happened? Talk to me.”

You tell him how you were just talking and it was getting deep then he got sentimental and said thank you…

“For being his friend.”

A beat, then Jimin finally speaks. “He is such an idiot.”

“I can’t do this,” you say, with finality. “I’m going to finish this tour, but I’m really leaving. I can’t be around Yoongi anymore.”

You finally get a couple of days off and decide to dodge Yoongi after coming back from the desert. It’s oddly easy—he’s not seeking you out like he usually does. You left him hanging the last time you talked, and now you’re stumped about how to fix things. You and Yoongi never really fight, at least not seriously. You handle work stuff through Kakao, like sending over today’s recording schedule for the award show. He left you on read.

Jimin immediately calls out for you as you step inside the set. It was just one of the penthouse suites in the hotel you were staying in. You feel awkward as some eyes shift over to you as you barely had time to fix yourself, you just aren't in the mood.

“Hi,” you respond simply. “How's everything?”

Jimin glances over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze to find Yoongi staring blankly at the coffee table, a face of thunder.

“He knows. He heard you on the phone with me.”

Your heart immediately drops to your ass. “Shit.”

Jimin shrugs, a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face. “Yeah, he’s pretty confused… and a little pissed.”

“Did you–”

“I would never,” Jimin interrupts quickly, holding up his hands. “It’s not my story to tell.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You’re not sure if Jimin’s optimism is comforting or just making you more anxious. You’ve spent years imagining every possible outcome, every scenario where he finds out you felt something deeper. And most of those scenarios end in heartbreak.

Either way, you know you’ve got to face the storm brewing in Yoongi’s eyes.

The shoot goes on without a hitch. You and Yoongi avoid each other like the plague, so much so that one of the makeup unnies takes notice. You downplay it, not wanting to be the subject of workplace gossip.

The schedule wraps up and as you get ready to leave, there is a light tap on your shoulder.

“Hey noona,” Jake says, looking a bit nervous but flashing a tentative smile. “Umm, a bunch of us are heading out tonight. If you don’t have plans, you should join us.”

Jake’s one of the newer camera guys, and while he’s been nice—always greeting you and opening doors—he’s barely scratched the surface of what could be considered a friend. He’s not just polite; he’s actually pretty cute. You’ve never really hung out with him before, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no. It was one of the last nights you have in Las Vegas, and maybe, you should live a little.

“Ok. What time are we leaving?”

“Can we meet at the lobby by 10?”

Just as you’re about to respond, there’s a loud crash from the other side of the room. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Jin amidst a flurry of crew members rushing over. Whatever happened, it looks like it’s already being dealt with.

“10?” you repeat, still distracted by the commotion.

He nods.

“Got it,” you reply, trying to shake off your unease.

Jake adjusts his backpack and gives you another nod, his smile still lingering as he heads out. “Cool. See you tonight.”

“Ok…” you nod, a little dazed as you watch Jake fistbump one of the producers on the way out.

“Hot date?” Jimin appears out of nowhere, casually sipping his Americano. His grin is a little too knowing—clearly, he was eavesdropping.

“Not really. He just mentioned that a few people were planning to go clubbing and asked if I wanted to join.”

Jimin’s eyes light up. “So, he wouldn’t mind if we tagged along, right?”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

Yoongi lifts his wine glass at you, smiling and unbothered.

Is this him extending an olive branch?

“Hey, Danbi, Eunchae…” he says, his gaze drifting past you to the two girls from Design. They look momentarily stunned, then offer hesitant waves, clearly not accustomed to this rare gesture from the usually wordless Yoongi.

Seriously?

This asshole.

A knot of frustration tightens in your stomach. Not only is he acting like nothing happened, but he’s also playing it cool, like he’s completely unaware of how much this is getting under your skin.

You’re sad, but now you’re kinda pissed, too. And the worst part of it all, he knows he looks fine.

Ginger hair slicked back to reveal the fresh undercut, He’s wearing some black shirt and black pants, with Jordans you would guess, and you know if it was any other man wearing that, he would have been stopped at the door.

You shift the strap of your dress slightly, conscious under his taunting eyes. The little number was something hot you recently picked up, the kind that might end up on somebody's floor.

“Are you going over to them,” Jake asks casually, leaning closer to your ear.

“No,” you say, breaking eye contact with Yoongi and moving to the next table where the others were, with Jake following closely behind.

A chorus of hellos started as you reached the table. There were a couple of girls from Hair and Makeup and some of the videographers, too. As if on cue, a tray of colorful shots are suddenly placed on the center console. The night is about to begin.

Jake has been incredibly attentive so far, but the truth is, it’s someone else’s attention that you want. You are hyper aware of Yoongi’s presence and it’s like having an itch you couldn’t scratch.

You spot Yoongi by the bar, alone and absorbed in his own world. As usual, he's oblivious to the pair of women casting lingering glances in his direction.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and make your way towards him. You notice his shoulders tense and stiffen as you approach, a clear sign of his unease, which almost made you want to retreat. But you know you can't go on another day of this unresolved tension with him.

“Yoongi, can we talk?”

He looks up, smirking as he swirls his drink. “Nah.”

Alright. You were not expecting that.

“Look, I just wanna explain–”

“It’s cool. You don’t have to,” he cuts you off, his voice casual but his eyes fixed stubbornly on the lowball glass he’s holding.

“But I–”

“You don't wanna be around me anymore, simple. Dunno why you're here.”

“Wait, Yoongi, you don't understand.”

“Don't understand? You never told me shit.” You notice how his fists are clenched, knuckles turning white. “I would have apologized if I did something wrong. Thought you knew that. Thought we were friends.”

It’s that word again. You chuckle bitterly. “Friends, I know. You keep saying that.”

At this he looks up at you, brows furrowed, but it was your turn to avert your gaze.

“‘Kay. You're leaving anyway, right? You can start now.”

“Fine.”

“Bye.”

You take a few steps, but something tugs at you, pulling you back. You glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch him watching you leave, wishing he’d somehow intervene, stop you from walking away.

But he isn’t there. His chair is already empty, the space where he sat now as vacant as if he’d never been there at all.

No one knows you better than Yoongi, and apparently no one else can hurt you quite like him, too.

The night is young. The club is electric. It is the hottest spot in town and you are hell-bent to experience it to the max.

Spirits and sugary shots tempered the hurt that settled in your gut after your encounter with Yoongi, now replaced with an urge to forget, to almost rebel.

The dance floor becomes your sanctuary. Shots of sweet, potent liquor flow, loosening you up and syncing your movements with the music. The crowd sways around you, a sea of bodies, but Jake remains a constant anchor.

His hands rest confidently on your stomach, your back pressed against his chest as you grind slowly against him. With one arm raised, you hook your hand around his neck, letting your bodies move in perfect rhythm. It's been a while since you let yourself go like this, but it's Vegas, after all.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so sexy, noona.”

“Wanna get out of here?” The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop you.

Jake's eyes widen slightly, but he nods, quite enthusiastically actually, and you think: fuck it, he's cute and you are leaving the company anyway.

Disappointingly, the heat between you and Jake cools with every passing second as you make your way back to the hotel. Yet, you cling to the idea of seeing it through, driven by the need to prove a point: that a) your life doesn't revolve around Min Yoongi; and b) you are attractive and can pull anyone, even if Min Yoongi does not want you.

In another world, this would be a whirlwind of clothes flying off, bodies pressed against walls, hands exploring with urgency. But instead, you both enter the hotel room in silence, the air heavy with a tension that contrasts sharply with the passionate encounter you’d hoped for. The quietness between you feels like a stark reminder of how far you are from the fantasy you envisioned.

Jake notices the maze of thoughts you were lost in.

“Noona,” he says, placing his jacket over the arm of the couch. “Are you sure you want this?”

Want. It was hard to stitch words as a response to that. Not when your heart has only wanted one person for years.

To be fair you do want Jake in your bed tonight. Objectively, he is super attractive - his soft, wavy hair, those wide, doe eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass.

No time to waste. You turn to him, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it slip to the floor. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes, yes, it does,” he walks in long strides over to you, yanking up his shirt in one fell swoop, revealing his toned stomach.

His hands cup your face and soon you feel his lips against your… neck? Ok, you can get into this. It’s not like you hate it.

He spends a few moments kissing you there. You close your eyes, willing your brain to shut off and just be in the moment.

“Can I touch you here?” One of his hands ghosts the side of your rib, inching towards the underside of your breast.

But before you can answer, loud knocks pound at your door.

“What the hell?” You hastily pull up your dress, zipping it up quickly. The furious raps continue and you can hear a voice behind it.

Jake follows you as you head to the door, picking up his tee from the floor and pulling it over his torso.

Bothered at the urgent banging, you don’t think to view the peep hole as you swing the door open, revealing

“Yoongi?” you squeak.

“Get out.” Eyes bloodshot, he strides past you and goes for Jake, who quickly tries to side-step him, moving a few steps back to create distance between them.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jake's eyes, wide as saucers, go to his elder then to you, before a realization dawns on him. “They said you weren't– Fuck, I swear I really thought–.”

"Get. Out." His voice is cold, laced with a fury you’ve never heard from him before. He grabs Jake by the arm, practically shoving him toward the door.

Jake casts a pitiful glance back, mumbling, "Sorry, noona," even though he’s done nothing wrong. But you don’t see it. Your hands are covering your face, trying to shield yourself from the shock and shame crashing over you as the scene unfolds.

“Fuck off, kid.”

And then the door slams shut.

Yoongi paces the room like a caged animal, his hand raking through his sweaty hair in frustration. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged, as if he’s on the verge of losing control.

You finally find your voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just barge in my room like that!”

“I just did,” he fires back. “Why are you with him?”

“It's none of your business. But since you really wanna know. I was about ready to fuck him.”

He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. “Did he touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

His hand shakes as he drags it through his hair again, his frustration barely contained. “Did you want him to?”

You can't understand why he’s asking these questions, why he’s reacting like this.

“Yoongi,” you exhale heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi likes being in Las Vegas. The city buzzes with an electric energy, a stark contrast to his own chill demeanor. It’s a place where neon lights flash all night, and the unpredictable atmosphere makes him feel like a fish out of water—a thrilling kind of discomfort. He doesn't get why a city so loud and chaotic captivates him, but it does.

He was never one for outlandish, over-the-top spectacles, but the Cirque du Soleil show he watched with you and Hobi the other night instantly became one of his favorites.

He never liked recreational gambling, but the way you lit up with joy and hugged him tight after winning just 20 bucks at a random slot machine—it’s now one of his most cherished memories.

He never fared well in big, buffet restaurants, but if it means hearing you shout “Yoongi, carry meeee” (so stupid) as you beg him for a piggy back ride after downing five heaping plates, then maybe he can start looking up some buffets back home, too.

Las Vegas is free. Las Vegas is wild. Min Yoongi is not.

At least, not until that night when he tore past wild and plunged into nothing short of primal.

Straight out of a segment from The Animal Planet, he was a tiger, lounging contentedly with his pack. You were his queen, his chosen mate—though you don’t know it yet. But when a looming threat emerges, the alpha in him awakens, tapping into ancient survival instincts to protect what’s his.

First, he observed the threat.

Some guy from production. Jake. He’s HYBE's new ace videographer from Australia. Isn’t he younger than her?

Oh shit, this was the dude Yoongi actually handpicked to be the director of photography for his documentary. He might have to rethink this, depending on how things play out.

Fucker has his hand on your back and you shift subtly so his hand falls away. This is good, you don’t seem to be too into his advances, Yoongi tells himself, relaxing slightly on his chair.

Second, he assessed the situation.

Unfortunately for him, the situation escalated quickly.

Never in his life has he ever wanted to gouge his eyes out so badly. If he could actually shove his fingers in his eye sockets and scoop his eyeballs from his skull he would have done it right then. Yet somehow he couldn't look away. There was a sick, sadistic pleasure in watching you lose yourself on the dance floor. Like a voyeur, he stared, mouth slightly parted, breathless as your body grinds in time with the bass. He didn’t want to acknowledge the other man in the picture, the one that wasn’t him.

“You’re drooling, hyung,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin erupts in a fit of giggles, almost falling out of the bar stool.

Yoongi wants to deny it. But between the ache in his heart and the boner in his pants, he did not have it in him to lie. “Pass me a napkin, dipshit.”

Third, he sensed danger.

Unfortunately again, he had to use the toilet at some point. And as he returns to his spot on the balcony, he panics.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Jimin looked at him, warily. “They left.”

No, he thought. No, no, no they’re not leaving this club. They are not leaving his sight.

Fourth, he took decisive action.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body spurring him to run out the door, his phone on his ear as he tries to reach his driver.

“Hyung, stop.” Jimin runs to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“You know where.”

“Why?”

His head is pounding. He cannot think straight. And Jimin asking so many questions is so fucking annoying.

“You know why.”

Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you idiots just talk about this like normal people?”

He doesn’t answer his friend, but he knows Jimin will be coming with him, whether he likes it or not. Because Jimin, nosy as he may be, is also one of the last real ones in his life.

Fifth, he confronts the threat head-on.

Which has brought him here, in your room, acting like the unhinged motherfucker he never aspired to be.

Your stern voice shakes him from his thoughts. “If you’re just going to stand there, just get outta here, Yoongi.”

“No.”

“No?” you let out a huff, a bitter sound cutting him. “You got some fuckin’ nerve. You ask me all sorts of questions, but you can't answer mine, huh?”

He has never seen this look in your eyes, and he starts to regret the hasty decision to come to your room.

Now, he was confronted with the first and very real possibility of you walking out of his life.

“Again, why are you here?” you ask, your voice a notch softer than it should be. It’s clear you’re exhausted, your tear-filled eyes an indication, wanting nothing more than for everything to make sense.

He cautiously pads towards you and gently reaches out for your hand. To his relief, you let him take it and he envelops it in both of his.

He takes one good look at you, committing your face to memory, because in his mind, this could be the point where your friendship ends.

He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes for a moment, before a confession finally spills from his lips. “Because I can't lose you.”

You blink and a lone tear spills free.

“I heard you on the phone with Jimin and what you said broke me. I keep thinking what I did wrong, but I can't figure it out. Then I saw you with that guy and I lost my shit. You know I'm terrible at expressing myself, but I need you, ok? More than I can say. Don't go. I can’t let you go.” He tugs you gently towards him, encasing you in his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest, and he is certain you can finally hear his heart that beats only for you. How he wishes he can summon the courage to say so. But the moment feels so delicate and he wants to tread lightly.

“Yoongi…” you sigh out his name and his heart races at how tenderly you seem to have surrendered to him.

“I’m so sorry that I was such a dick to you. Didn’t mean to ice you out. Honestly, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

“What is it that you want, then?”

“This.” He tightened his arms a tad against your frame to make a point, before pulling his head back, just enough to be able to see your eyes when he says, “You.”

Your breath hitches and he is unable to read the expression in your face. Was it just shock? Was it dismay? A slight panic bubbles in his throat. Did he misread the signs? Did he just blow it? But you felt so pliant under his touch, you still do. So he had to ask, even if your response might just end him.

“Y-you don’t want this?”

“No, I do, I do,” you say, almost too quickly, nibbling on your bottom lip afterwards. His thumb goes to caress your cheek, and you lean slightly into his touch.

‘Fuckin’ do something,’ his brain screams at him, the way it has for years now.

So many words are still unspoken between you two, but as he looks at the affection and the want in your eyes, he decides–fuck it, you can talk later.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he finally admits, his voice low but steady. "Is that okay?"

You nod, but hesitate. "I’m just—” you place a hand on his shoulder, as if to anchor yourself on him. “I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

He lets out a breath, a smile playing on his lips as he sees yours curve into a shy grin.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he murmurs as he closes the gap, his lips almost grazing yours.

“I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Yoongi.” Your nose nudges his, inviting him to make the next move.

“You were never just a friend,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

“And after this,” you say, moving your hands to the back of his neck, “I might want you all to myself.”

His lips brush against yours, featherlight. It’s barely a kiss, just a fleeting touch, but it leaves you both craving more.

“Baby,” he breathes, “I’m already yours.”

A/N: What do we think??? Feedback is appreciated! Do we hear wedding bells, or nah? See you in Part Two! 🙂

Tag: @tea4sykes @mggv97 @jajabro @yooglefics @codeinebelle @tinytan-gerine @comingupwithacoolnameishard @dontcribuyabag @mizz-kraziii @angelfuzzy2 @marnz1990 @speedyhandsbonkpalace @amarawayne @coffeedepressionsoup @little-cherry01 @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @lolpanda94 @parapiop7 @wobblewobble822 @dazzlingjade @storyofafangirl @yoongrace @mzbtsreads

Thank you so much for reading, you beautiful human! xo

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic

654 notes · View notes

ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months

Text

Nothing More Than An Animal

Title: Nothing More Than An Animal

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Henry!Wolverine (Cavillrine) x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: After entering a dangerous biker bar alone, you’re almost assaulted. You are saved by a mutant with metal claws who might be more animal than man.

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, unwanted attention, bar fight, Wolvie being Wolvie, unprotected p-in-v sex, creampie, mention of bodily fluids, claw kink

Beta: @peyton-warren

A/N: The title is taken from this quote from Savage Wolverine #13: “Most people think I'm nothing more than an animal!” Thank you to my amazing beta, Peyton, for giving me this idea in the first place.

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You couldn’t help yourself. You stand across the street from the biker bar, a flickering streetlamp above you casting an off-white haze. The only thing keeping you from entering the establishment is your sense of self-preservation. This place, Torque Tavern, screams danger. But that only draws you in further.

You’re dressed in your usual style: your favorite Joan Jett shirt with the sleeves cut off, a denim jacket, a pair of figure-hugging black jeans, and a pair of Doc Martens boots. While normally you walk around with a sense of power, tonight was different.

A chill in the air makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You step off the curb into a dirty puddle, crossing the street after looking both ways. With your hand on the bar door, you pull it open and step inside.

The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke hits your nostrils as the door closes behind you. A dozen heads turn to you, and your heart pounds. You look across the dimly lit room and notice one person who hasn’t paid you any attention, sitting on a stool at the L-shaped bar. You walk up and sit on a stool, a couple of seats away from the large man.

While you wait for the bartender to attend to you, you peek at the behemoth that sits near you. Wild, dark hair that comes to a point on each side, bushy sideburns, and a non-connecting beard outline his face. A white tank top stretches across his wide, thick frame. Bulbous, sweaty biceps glisten in the glow of the lights behind the bar. Hairy, veiny forearms lead down to strong hands: one grips around a lowball of amber liquid so tight that his knuckles are white, and the other balances a fat cigar between two fingers.

“Take a picture, bub, it’ll last longer,” the stranger says, letting out a plume of smoke from his chapped lips before turning his tidepool blue eyes on you.

After a few seconds that feel like minutes, you’re finally able to turn around and look away, mumbling an apology. You can still feel his eyes on you for a bit before he turns back to his drink and his solitude.

Your eyes shoot up once the bartender knocks on the bartop in front of you. “What’ll you have?”

“Uh, yeah. Moosehead and a shot of J.P. Wiser’s,” you reply, unsurprised when the bartender raises a brow at you. He then shrugs, cracks open a bottle of lager, and sets it in front of you. Grabbing a shot glass, he pours you a bit of the blended whiskey.

As soon as the light golden liquor is pushed toward you, you lift it and inhale the vanilla aroma. Tossing it back, the taste of licorice and cinnamon cascades over your tongue and down your throat. You exhale the burn and turn your attention to your lager.

You notice the murmurs behind you. A chair is pushed away from a table, and heavy boots are walking up behind you. A strong hand lands on your shoulder, and you freeze. “Hey, doll. Can I buy you a drink?”

You hold up your beer and decline, “I’m fine, honey.”

“Aw, come on. Just one drink. Promise I don’t bite, ‘less you want me to,” the source of the voice laughs, coming around to lean on the bar between you and the cigar-smoking stranger, his bald head glistening in the low light as he strokes his long, scraggly beard. His beer belly is barely contained in a Limp Bizkit shirt. This man is a walking red flag, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“Look, pal. Let me enjoy the drink I have, ok? This is my one fucking night off this week, and I’m not in the mood to let you ruin it with any of your shitty pick-up lines or the promise of hanging out with you and the rest of the rejects from Sons of Anarchy, got it?” You surprised yourself by bellowing these words to a stranger, one who could probably benchpress you with ease.

You flinch as his expression turns dark and he raises a hand. “You stuck-up little bitch, I ought to—”

The cigar-smoking stranger interrupts, seizing him by the throat and lifting him effortlessly off the ground as if he were a mere feather. While holding him aloft with one hand, the other hand balls into a fist while sharp blades appear from his knuckles.

He’s a mutant! You’d never seen anyone use their abilities up close, but now a man with incredible strength and metal claws is gallantly defending your honor.

“I think the lady has everything she needs, so why don’t you and your little friends scurry along before I get really angry and carve you up in front of everyone, eh?”

The sound of a pump-action shotgun being cocked has every head whipping to the bartender. “Get out of my bar, freak!”

The mutant simply turns and deposits the asshole on the ground in a crumpled mess. Blowing another puff of smoke into the ceiling, he throws back the rest of his drink before grabbing a bottle of whiskey from behind the bar and walking out. Halfway to the door, he turns to you and asks, “You coming or what, bub?”

You couldn’t scramble off your stool quick enough after he challenged you to follow him. Stepping over the man left on the floor, you scurry after your mutant savior. Once back in the night air, you look over as he stuffs the bottle into the storage of his Harley-Davidson. As he swings his leg over the bike and settles into the seat, you can't help but notice the bike sagging under his weight, as if he weighs a ton.

He turns back to his storage, taking out a helmet and holding it out to you. You’ve seen enough movies to know that riding with a stranger is a dumb idea. However, if that mysterious stranger happens to be attractive and cruising on a Harley, who could resist the allure of a thrilling adventure?

Taking the helmet, you pull it down over your head and lift a leg to get onto the bike behind him. As he turns the key, you clench your thighs at the vibration and wrap your arms around his waist.

“You don’t have to hold me so tight,” he informs.

“Oh, this isn’t tight," you remark, suddenly realizing that you don't know what to call this man. You offer your name, and he repeats it before giving his own.

“The name’s Logan.” He drops his cigar butt on the asphalt and stubs it out with his boot before putting up the kickstand and backing out of the parking spot. He revs the engine, and you are off on your way to wherever Logan wants to take you.

The drive is smooth, the city whizzing past you as Logan speeds down the highway. You end up at a garage that houses a few more Harleys in various states of repair. Logan puts the kickstand down and lets you get off the bike first. He watches as you take off the helmet and look around at where he’s taken you.

Exiting the bike, he takes the helmet when you hold it out to him. You don’t miss the way his fingers lingered on yours for a beat. He takes the bottle out of his bike pack and takes a hefty swig, then hands it to you.

You read the label, ‘Forty Creek Confederation Oak’, and put the bottle to your lips. Tipping it, you are delighted to taste the honey flavor. Handing him the bottle, you hold the liquor in your mouth until it starts to burn, and then you swallow and exhale the nutty finish.

He appears to be quite taken aback that you managed to drink without gagging, and his intrigue deepens as you begin to move closer into his personal space. The warmth in your chest from the alcohol has you feeling full and content. The heat coming off of his body as you stand close enough to breathe in his air has you feeling something completely overwhelming: pheromone-induced arousal.

Your libido is making itself known as you watch him watch you. Unable to stop your hands, they find themselves smoothing up his tank-covered torso until you tug at the collar. He gets the hint and sets the bottle down before removing his shirt.

You encounter a soft, furry chest that invites you to sink your fingers into its warmth. Tightening your digits in the hair on his pretty pecs, you revel in the growl he makes. He then levels the playing field, grabbing you by the nape of the neck with one large paw and bringing your face to his.

As you part your lips, a soft whimper slips out, unable to be contained, while he teasingly brushes his tongue against your lower lip. Growling again, he dips further to slot your mouth with his. He devours the moans that come out of you as he grabs a handful of your ass, chuckling into the kiss as you let him take the lead. His tongue licks into your mouth, and you feel drunk on his whiskey-laden kiss.

Breaking the kiss, he pushes down on your shoulders until you are kneeling at his feet. You start to unfasten his tight-fitting jeans, but he swats your hands away.

“Not yet, bub,” he warns. “I wanna try something.”

With that, he has you pass him the bottle. He takes a drink and then holds your cheek against his denim-covered cock. You can sense that he’s packing quite a surprise down there, and you’re eagerly anticipating the moment it’s unleashed.

“Eyes on me,” he commands.

You watch as he takes the bottle and pours about a shot’s worth of liquor over his chest. Watching as the liquid washes over him, you are more than eager to taste it directly from his skin. After you��ve cleaned his chest of all traces, he takes another drink. This time, he holds your face by the jaw and leans down, spitting the whiskey directly into your mouth.

You gulp it down eagerly, on the verge of pleading for another sip, when he scoops you up from the ground and twirls you around, positioning you over the bike you arrived on. He yanks down your jeans, your panties going with them. He lands a slap on each cheek before you hear him unzip his pants and feel his heavy dick teasing your clit.

He kicks your legs open further, pulls your denim jacket off, and lines himself up with your soaked entrance. Sliding in, he hisses at the heat of your tightness. You whine at his girth, stretching you more than any other cock you’ve ever taken. Once he bottoms out, the tip kisses your cervix, and his hairy ball sac rests against your puffy pussy. He pauses to let you get used to his size, but as he continues to take his time, it seems he is just tormenting you.

“Logan, please. Need you to move,” you plead, wiggling your hips to get any kind of friction.

You don’t see the toothy grin that covers his face, but you know by the way he tightens his grip on your hips that he is about to fuck you ten ways from Sunday.

Gradually withdrawing his hips, he eases out until only the tip of his shaft stays nestled within you, and then he thrusts back in with force. Doing it again, and then again, he pauses after each thrust to tease you. But on the third plunge, he doesn’t stop; he just keeps driving into you.

The rhythmic sounds of your sweat-soaked skin colliding form a captivating tune, harmonizing with the slick, squelching rhythm of his thrusts deep inside you. Coupled with Logan's deep, primal growls and your breathy moans, it creates an intoxicating symphony of desire.

You sense one of his hands sliding away from your hip, pushing your top up your back, and then a sharp SNIKT! pierces the air. You almost turn to inquire where the sound came from, but you soon feel something razor-sharp and hot to the touch sliding down your back. Once you realize that he’s touching you with his claws, you’re overcome with arousal, and your walls flutter around him. He fucks you through your orgasm and retracts his claws.

He slows his hips, pulling out and moving you both over to a nearby armchair. Sitting down first, he crooks a finger at you, and you remove your jeans and boots before straddling his hips. As you lower yourself onto him, you feel him fill you once more, the sensation overwhelming as you settle in.

You close your eyes and begin to ride him slower than before. Before you know it, you feel hot steel, or what you assume to be steel, at your neck and open your eyes to see his fist a few inches from your face. The claws, held within a millimeter of your jugular, glide across your skin.

“Hey, bub? You gonna keep pussyfooting around, or are you gonna ride this cock like the good little slut I know you are?” He asks, his pupils dilated until there is barely any blue left.

Your mouth opens and closes, but there is no sound coming out besides whimpers of fear that he might push those claws through your neck. Honestly, it added an extra little something to the experience, feeling that he might cut you at any moment.

The claws disappear back into the skin between his knuckles, and instead, he wraps a hand around your neck, guiding you to ride his length exactly as he wants. Your hands hold his thick wrist as you impale yourself over and over again.

“That’s it. Ride my cock just like that,” he praises, sticking two fingers in your mouth that you gluttonously suck. He locks his gaze on yours while you reach another peak of pleasure, your inner walls tightening around him as you release a wave of warmth that cascades down his length and between his legs.

When you threaten to slow down, he fucks into you, chasing his release. At this point, you are drooling over his fingers and looking like the fucked-out little doll that you are. You can tell that he is close as his hips stutter and his brows furrow as he removes his fingers from your mouth.

“Come inside me, Logan. Want it, need it so bad,” you beg, moving your hips as he drives into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. He lets out a throaty growl and buries himself to the hilt inside of you. Feeling him twitch inside you, rope after rope of his cum painting your cervix, you reach back and play with his balls.

It’s minutes before his cock softens enough to slip out of you, and you rest your head on his chest as his jizz drips from your thoroughly used hole. To your astonishment, his hand rises to gently stroke your back while you find yourself gripping his chest hair.

Little did you know, this was only round one with the big lug. He’ll let you get some shut-eye for now, but later? He’d like to fuck you on every available surface in his garage. And what he wants, he always gets.

A/N: I intentionally used a line from the X-Men (2000), but then failed at “Chekov’s Gun” sort of. But this story only has two acts. So, fuck Chekov. I hope you all enjoyed my little fuckfest here, and please do let me know what you thought!! Writers are fed by comments!

**Tag List**

@littlefreya @mrs-solo-walker @viking-raider

Let me know if you want to be added (or removed). 😁

#henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry!wolverine #henry!wolvie #cavillrine #cavillrine fanfiction #cavillrine smut #cavillrine fanfic #cavillrine x reader #cavillrine x female reader #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #deadpool movie #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #henry cavill smut #nothing more than an animal

654 notes · View notes

mr-cha-n · 1 month

Text

Crossing the Finish Line

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem!reader

Genres: fluff, angst, athletes AU

Warnings: Profanities, drinking, reader is a bit of an asshole, exercise

Word Count: 17.4k

Summary: Winning is the only thing that matters, except if you're raising money for a charity event with an infuriatingly good-looking swimmer.

The burn of your muscles and the sweat on your brow are a satisfying reminder of how far you've come.

Reaching for the water bottle at the base of the wall, you take a well-deserved gulp before turning to your coach, who’s approaching with a towel in hand, clapping proudly.

"If you can recreate that in Tokyo, you won’t have to worry about coming home empty-handed!" Sungjin grins, his pride almost matching your own as you bask in the achievement of a personal best—almost.

"I guess I'll just have to keep at it to make sure of that," You smile gingerly, leaning forward to grab the towel and dab the moisture from your face.

"Well, motivation’s never been your problem," he says, raising an eyebrow as if to protest, but instead, he simply gestures back to the climbing wall, hinting for you to continue.

You know Sungjin thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard, but as you square up to the lead course in front of you, feeling that familiar sense of belonging and purpose the wall brings, you’re certain even he has to admit the hard work is paying off.

With a steadying breath, your hands dip into the chalk bag at your waist. Just a little faster, a little stronger, and you’ll be up there competing with the greats of your sport. The clarity of your purpose washes over you; you know your place in the world, and you’re determined to reach it.

"Done already?"

Iseul's voice pulls you out of your thoughts as you realize you've been staring at the chipped paint on your admittedly worse-for-wear front door.

The shiny black hands on the cockerel-shaped clock at the entrance to your apartment read 9:20 pm. Glancing between the clock, the half-filled pot of chilli simmering on the stove, and your roommate’s teasing look, you realize you’ve missed dinner.

"Honey, I'm home!" you sing-song, spreading your arms wide to envelop Iseul in an apologetic hug. She screeches and runs away, but her laughter lets you know that all is forgiven for your late arrival.

"Sorry for missing dinner, Sullie. I got caught up in that headspace again and completely forgot you were cooking tonight."

"Don’t be sorry, just be grateful I left you some—it should still be warm!" she hums, offering you a reassuring glance.

You feel her eyes on you as you hang your jacket up and begin ladling out the leftover chilli into your favourite bowl.

"What is it?" you ask, tentatively meeting her gaze.

"I just—" she pauses, her expression softening as she searches for the right words. "I’m worried about you. You spend all day at the training gym or the actual gym. I know you’ve got important milestones coming up, and I’ll be there cheering you on from the sidelines, but your whole life can’t revolve around competitions. You’re not going out, seeing friends, meeting new people—"

"I don’t need you setting me up on another blind date if that’s what you’re suggesting," you interject, raising an eyebrow as you take a bite of chilli. "And I have enough friends."

"When was the last time you saw anyone other than me or your coaching team?"

When was the last time you'd seen any of your other friends?

The corner of your mouth twitches in defensive annoyance, trying to come up with a reply that you both know won't be truthful.

"Okay, fine. You might have a point. How about I promise to see people after Tokyo? I’ll even make an appearance at one of your wretched salsa classes."

You’ve attended exactly one of Iseul’s salsa classes and vowed never to repeat the experience. Sixty minutes of humiliation in a class way above the beginner level you were promised, stumbling through the steps only to collide with your rather handsome dance partner and send both of you crashing to the floor. Needless to say, you’ve managed to avoid that class—and that man—ever since.

"You can’t just avoid people for a month, squid!" Iseul protests. "Maybe you could—"

"No," you warn, dread filling you as you anticipate her next suggestion.

"Come on, I think it would be fun! You could-"

"I don't want to!"

"And what if you didn't have a choice?"

That stops you in your tracks. Blinking slowly, you set down your fork and look blankly at your best friend.

"What ... does that mean?" You ask cautiously.

Iseul grimaces, swallowing hard before replying.

"Okay, don’t be mad." That’s never a good sign. "I might have sent the campaign info to Sungjin."

Your brain feels like it’s been doused in ice water as you process what she’s done.

"You mean to say, I decided three months ago that I definitely didn’t want to do the campaign, and you, despite this, still sent the info to my head coach, who will undoubtedly force me to do it for 'good publicity' and 'sponsorship opportunities'?" you scowl, shooting her your best attempt at a withering look.

"That may, perhaps, be correct." She confesses, giving you a look you’d only reserve for your mother after sneaking out without permission.

A long, loud sigh drags its way out of your body.

"Iseul ... really?"

"...yeah, really."

"God, I don't even remember what the campaign was about!" You complain, pushing the half-eaten bowl of chilli aside, your appetite gone with this new revelation.

"Oh! Here, I have the email up!" Iseul beams, clearly feeling far more helpful than you currently think she deserves to feel.

"Of course you do." You glare, moving to look at the computer screen beside her.

Dear Miss (Y/l/n),

As the excitement builds for the upcoming Olympic competition in Tokyo, we are organizing a special event that combines the spirit of athleticism with the power of giving back to the community.

We are thrilled to invite you to participate in our Road to the Rings relay event, scheduled to take place in the week commencing 5 July. This unique relay will bring together athletes like yourself to not only celebrate the Olympic spirit but also to raise awareness and funds for the KSPO.

As a respected athlete, your involvement would greatly enhance the impact of this event. Not only will this be an opportunity to showcase your support for a meaningful cause, but it will also allow you to connect with fellow athletes and fans in a memorable and inspiring way.

Your participation would include:

Joining a team of athletes in a two-day relay through Tokyo city

Promoting the event on your social media platforms

Engaging with fans during the event to share the importance of the cause we are supporting.

With your help, we can make this an unforgettable experience and a powerful force for good. We would be honoured to have you as part of this initiative.

Please let us know if you are available to join us by replying to this email or contacting Soma Kimiko at [email protected] by 31 May.

Thank you for considering this opportunity to make a difference through sport.

Warm regards,

Hu Chunho

International Olympic Committee

"Thank god, the deadline for this passed ages ago." You sigh, relief washing over you.

The guilty look that remains stamped on Iseul's face does not inspire confidence in you.

"Well, about that—don’t quote me on this, but I think Sungjin might have contacted them, and they may have agreed to let you join anyway?"

"Shit." You swear, wracking your brain for a way out and coming up empty. "Let me call Sungjin; maybe I can convince him to change his mind."

Surrounded by athletes you’ve never met but who all clearly know each other, you scan the crowd for the one face that could save you from your awkward solitude. Soon enough, you manage to catch a glimpse of your teammate, Jeon Wonwoo, across the sea of people. As you begin to wade through the crowd toward him, you realize he’s not alone like you’d hoped but is at the centre of a large group of athletes, all laughing and taking photos outside the Olympic Village entrance.

You've all been allowed early access for the event, a privilege everyone else seems stoaked about, but has left you out of your depth and far from where you want to be.

Deciding that you can morph your embarrassment into a cool, solo mystique rather than face meeting all of Wonwoo’s friends, you pull out your headphones and start wandering around the entrance, feigning busyness.

Keeping one eye on the other athletes, and the other half-heartedly on the information board in front of you, you quickly realise that no one else cares about what you're doing and feel yourself relaxing into the music.

All this waiting has made you hungry, and you wonder if there will be food available in the village or if you’ll have to brave your rudimentary Japanese to find your own sustenance. Surely they'll give you access to the village resources - you'll need to use the gym and the climbing equipment at least -

A sharp tap on your shoulder interrupts your thoughts.

Swivelling around, you’re met face-to-face with a tall, muscular man whose lips are moving, but you can’t hear a word. Gaping at him in confusion, you’re about to tell him he’s not saying anything when he gestures to his ear, miming pulling something out of it—oh, right, your earphones.

You scramble to pull your left earbud from your ear.

"Sorry, I was just saying that they're letting us into the village now."

"Oh, uh thank you! And I thought the language barrier would be my biggest comprehension issue!" You exclaim with a smile too wide and a laugh too loud. The cringe instantly seems into your body as the man cocks one eyebrow at you, and it takes all of your will not to shrivel up under his gaze.

You force yourself to keep smiling, even as the heat of embarrassment creeps up your neck. Clearing your throat, you quickly try to recover. "I guess I'm just a little nervous," you admit with a small, sheepish grin, hoping to smooth over the awkwardness. "I've been waiting to be here for a long time, and now that I'm actually here, I'm not sure what to expect."

The man’s eyebrow slowly lowers, and you catch a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. He nods slightly, the tension easing just a bit. "It's natural to feel that way," he says, his tone softening. "The games can be... overwhelming at first."

Relieved that the moment has passed, you take a deep breath and offer a more genuine smile. "Thanks for letting me know, we should probably head off before they leave us behind."

"I'm not too worried about that," He lets out a little laugh. As you both start to walk, you finally take in the small crowd that has gathered outside the gates. Though you can’t make out what they’re shouting, the team flags and posters bearing the man’s face clue you in on the nature of the turnout.

Pressing your lips together, you nod your head in mock understanding. "I see, can't keep the fanclub waiting?"

His head snaps away from the crowd to meet your eyes, and for a split second, you worry you’ve said the wrong thing. But then you catch the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"They're more persistent than I expected," he says, his tone light but tinged with weariness. "But I suppose it comes with the territory."

Relieved that he didn't take offence, you relax slightly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Must be exhausting, though," you offer, your voice softer now. "All that attention."

He gives a small shrug, glancing back at the crowd with a resigned expression. "You get used to it," he says, but there's a hint of something in his voice. "But we should really get moving. Don't want to keep anyone waiting—fans or otherwise."

You nod, falling into step beside him as you both head towards the entryway. The buzz of the crowd fades into the background as you walk, the earlier awkwardness slowly dissolving into a comfortable silence.

Once inside the village, the man turns to you again, a curious look on his face. "So, first Olympics?"

You nod, a bit of excitement creeping back into your voice. "Yeah, it’s been a dream for as long as I can remember."

"Well, you’ve got a lot to look forward to," he says, offering a small smile. "It’s an experience like no other."

You smile back, feeling a bit of your nervousness melt away. "I’m sure it will be."

Weary from the day but still buzzing with anticipation, you finally make it to your assigned room. The sight of the cardboard bed brings a huff of amusement. You flop down onto it, savouring the comfort even if it’s temporary. You have the room to yourself for now, but it’s clear that another athlete will be joining you once the games officially begin. For the moment, though, you relish the peace and quiet.

You managed to grab some sashimi from a nearby restaurant earlier on, and with your hunger sated, you start to settle in, considering whether to crack open a book or simply drift off into an early night’s sleep.

A pounding knock on your door quickly dashes those plans.

"Hey! (Y/n)?" A familiarly deep voice calls out, and you drag yourself up to let your teammate into your room.

"Wonwoo, what a nice surprise." you greet him with a forced grin, his chuckle telling you he’s not fooled.

"Don’t tell me you were planning to spend your first night in Tokyo cooped up in here?" he teases, and you respond by chucking a pillow at him.

"Do you not get exhausted from travelling like a normal person?"

"The plane journey was like three hours, tops." He retorts, falling onto your absentee roommate's bed.

"You have a point." You concede. "And yet, a nice warm bath and a book call to me."

"God, you're so dull!"

"What are you on about? You read more than anyone I know!"

"Yes, but I'm not reading now, am I? That should tell you something..."

You hate that his logic is making sense to you. Giving him a long, squinty-eyed stare, you eventually give in.

"So, what’s the plan? Not that I’m going, I’m just curious."

Perking up, Wonwoo lifts himself off the bed with a speed you usually only see on the climbing wall. The sly grin that spreads across his face makes you instantly wary.

"A few friends are gathering in one of the common rooms for some drinks and mingling. People might split off later to go clubbing or karaoke or something, but you could just come to the party part if you’re interested. It’s just down the corridor—you wouldn’t be able to sleep with the noise anyway."

You mull it over, remembering the promise you made to Iseul before you left.

"Fine, maybe I’ll make an appearance." The satisfied grin on Wonwoo’s face forces you to hold back an eye roll. Your expression softens, hesitating to confide your apprehensions. "Just… don’t ditch me, okay? I don’t really know anyone else here."

Wonwoo’s playful demeanour shifts to one of gentle understanding as he nods in agreement.

"It’ll be a good chance to meet some new people—they’re really nice." He notices your screwed-up look of unease. "And I’ll introduce you. Don’t worry, the room is like 300 square feet; you’re not gonna lose track of me."

"Alright, fine. Now get out—I have to get changed!" You playfully whack his arm with your remaining pillow, and his laughter echoes in your room as he leaves, making the decision feel a little less daunting.

Rummaging through the unemptied suitcase on your bedroom floor, you thank Iseul for the scrunched-up red dress at the bottom of the case. Throwing it on with your probably unnecessary black leather jacket and some knee-high black boots, you feel like you at least look like you belong at a party.

Lining your lips with a rouge that matches the dress, and blasting some hyper pop to get you pumped up, you take a deep breath, realizing that, despite your nerves, this could be a chance to really settle in, to find your place not just in the competition, but among the people who, like you, have worked so hard to be here.

The bass of the music drums into the back of your skull as you fix yourself a drink in the small common room kitchen. You'd beelined straight to the drinks, grateful to give yourself something to do and to get some liquid courage before you face up to the other athletes.

Taking a sip from your cup, you scan the room for the face of your friend. As promised, you make eye contact with Wonwoo on the other side of the room, who flags you over to come talk to his friends. Revving yourself up for socialising, you make sure to keep an easy smile plastered to your face as you head over to join him.

"Hey, guys, this is my fellow climber, (Y/n). This is (Y/n)'s first Olympics, so ease her in gently!"

A flurry of names and greetings follow, and you take in none of them.

"Between the nerves and the secretive partying, I feel like it's the first day of high school again." You joke, trying to break the ice.

"Ha, if only I was cool enough to be invited to parties my first year of high school!" A lanky man with frosted tips replies, chuckling into his drink.

"I feel like that explains a lot about you, Chunghee." A pretty woman with a knowing smile laughs. Looking towards you, she leans forward, half-whispering, half-speaking. "He's been making up for it ever since," She teases, earning a playful shove from Chungee, who rolls his eyes but grins nonetheless.

You laugh along with them, feeling the tension in your shoulders start to ease as the group’s friendly energy begins to draw you in. The music still pounds in the background, but it seems less overwhelming now.

Wonwoo nudges you lightly, a reassuring smile on his face. "You settling in okay?"

"Yeah, I think so," you nod, glancing around at the group. "It's just a bit surreal, you know? One minute, I'm in my usual training routine, and now I’m here, surrounded by all these amazing athletes. It’s a lot to take in."

"Tell me about it," the woman who teased Chunghee chimes in. "I still remember my first Olympics—it felt like stepping into another world. But don’t worry, by the time the opening ceremony rolls around, you’ll feel right at home."

"Thanks," you say, genuinely touched by the support. "I’m excited—nervous, but excited."

"Excited is good," Wonwoo says, clinking his drink against yours. "And hey, you've always got tonight to get embarrassingly wasted and earn your spot in the Olympic Village Hall of Fame!"

"Speaking of, I got in late for my first Olympics, so my first night ended up being the night of the opening ceremony. I got nervous sick in my room beforehand and used the twenty minutes I had to get absolutely hammered. Next thing I know, I'm tripping over my own feet holding the Olympic torch and trying not to set everything on fire. To this day, the other athletes still call me 'Torch Tango' after I somehow managed to spin around and do a full pirouette, nearly taking out the torchbearer behind me," A jovial woman standing to the right of Wonwoo chimes to a chorus of laughter.

You find yourself laughing along with them, the image of her drunkenly dancing with the Olympic torch so absurd that you can't help but be amused. "That sounds both terrifying and hilarious," you say, shaking your head. "I can’t imagine how you pulled that off."

"Trust me, it wasn’t on purpose!" she replies, still giggling. "But it broke the ice for me. I figured if I could survive that level of embarrassment in front of the entire world, I could handle anything the games threw at me."

"You know, that’s actually kind of inspiring," Wonwoo chimes in, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe (Y/n) here should start off with a bang like that, get all the nerves out of the way early."

You shoot him a mock glare, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "Let’s not tempt fate, okay? I’d rather not be remembered as 'the one who set the Olympic Village on fire.'"

The group chuckles, and Chunghee raises his glass in a mock toast. "To avoiding accidental arson and to surviving our first Olympics without becoming memes!"

"Cheers to that," you agree, clinking your drink against his. The mood in the room is light and warm, and the camaraderie in the group is palpable. You feel yourself relaxing even more as the conversation flows naturally from one topic to the next. Stories of past competitions, travel mishaps, and favourite training rituals are shared, and before long, you find yourself laughing along, no longer worried about making a good impression.

You catch Wonwoo’s eye across the group, and he gives you a small nod, as if to say, "See? I told you it’d be fine." And as you take another sip of your drink, you can’t help but smile to yourself.

Moving back to grab a second round of drinks, you overhear the conversation loudly playing out on the other side of the room.

"-definitely Haneul, she's an Olympic medalist in shooting. I'm not gonna get mauled by a tiger if she's protecting me!" A passionate voice calls out to a chorus of laughter.

You peer around to see a group of about eight to ten people occupying the common room sofas and floor in one big circle. Amongst the group, you spot the man from earlier, leaning back in his position on the couch with an easy laugh and a cup in one hand.

"No offence, Haneul, but if I'm trying to survive a deserted island, I think I'd have bigger priorities than shooting wild animals with a non-existent gun." Another man replies. "I know who I'd want."

"Oh yeah, who?" The original voice calls back, belonging to a confident-looking woman dressed in all black.

"Kim Mingyu, obviously. A world-renowned swimmer, self-made handyman, and absolute gym lad. Not only could he cook me meals, but he'd cuddle me around the fire to keep me warm. And if that didn't work, then his hoards of lovers would track him down and rescue us!"

Kim Mingyu... you recognise that name. The group are now all laughing and nodding at the man on the floor, and you quickly put together the pieces. The fan club, the name, and the admittedly handsome face - the man you'd spoken to earlier was the infamous breaststroke swimmer. You'd seen countless articles in the newspaper about his latest fling, being caught at a rowdy party, and, of course, the record-breaking swims. You hadn't made the connection at first - he'd been so down-to-earth during your brief conversation that it was hard to reconcile that with the image of the notorious athlete plastered across the tabloids.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing there, hovering on the edge of the group with your fresh drink in hand, when suddenly Mingyu catches your eye. His laughter subsides as he notices you, and without missing a beat, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"What about you, Mingyu? Who would you bring? You can't pick yourself!"

"You guys have got it all wrong - I'm not the best pick." He starts, putting his cup down in mock seriousness. "I'd bring someone who could gather food, get resources, and save me if I fell off a cliff. The obvious choice is (Y/n)," You feel your heartbeat skyrocket as your name leaves his mouth and the group of debaters swivel round to look at you. "She's literally a world champion in climbing. She could climb a tree for food, wood, or leaves to craft things, and she's the only person here I'd trust to be able to pull me up if I was swinging from her grip off of the edge of a cliff."

You didn't know that he knew who you were. Your heart patters at the realisation, and you feel a blush begin to creep up the side of your neck.

"Oh, I'd be a bad choice," You respond shakily. Mingyu gives you an inquisitive look to carry on.

"I'm deathly allergic to nuts, if the island had any I'd have to choose between insta-death or starvation - not a very good ally if I'm dead."

His gaze lingers, a playful curiosity flickering in his eyes, and it takes all your willpower not to squirm under the attention. You force a laugh, trying to shake off the growing tension. "So, I guess we’ll have to make sure there’s a nut-free island for me to survive on," you quip, attempting to keep the mood light.

Mingyu grins, leaning back against the couch with a nonchalant shrug. "Don’t worry, I’d make sure of it. Can't have my survival expert checking out early."

The group laughs, and the conversation shifts back to the hypothetical island debate.

"I'm sure you've had your ear chatted off about the games, but have you got any interesting plans for afterwards?" The woman in the black outfit, who happens to be sitting closest to you, calls out.

Double-checking that she is speaking to you first, you perch down next to her.

"Nothing too serious - an unavoidable salsa class and more training probably. There was one sponsorship deal my team got sent with Samsung, but I don't think I'm gonna do it,"

"You're seriously considering turning it down?" Mingyu asks, and you hadn't even realised that he'd been listening to your conversation. "That's a huge opportunity."

"Sure, but I didn't come here for sponsorships. I just want to compete, to push myself. The whole media circus that comes with it ... I don't want it."

You can feel the weight of his disbelief on you.

Mingu leans forward, his expression more serious than you've seen before.

"You do realise that sponsorships are part of the game, right? They're what keep you here, you can't just ignore that."

You feel a flicker of frustration at his words. "I get that, but it's not why I'm here. Not everyone's looking for the celebrity lifestyle; sometimes it's okay to not have your whole life plastered over the daily newspaper."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The icy look in his eyes is entirely different to the friendly aura you'd experienced earlier.

You hadn't meant for it to come out that way, but the words had slipped out before you could stop them. The tension in the room thickens instantly, and you feel a knot of regret tighten in your chest.

"It means - it doesn't mean anything. That's just not my priority," You reply, trying to appear calm despite the hard edge to your voice.

"Not everything in life is about winning a race, you know that right?" He retorts, and you feel yourself scoff.

How could he think that?

That's why you were all here, what brought you together - a mutual dedication to being the best. To deny it was naive.

"-hey, man, we're heading out now, you coming?" The deserted island man leans over Mingyu's shoulder, pulling his arm towards the crowd gathering at the exit of the common room. Mingyu gives you one last look, before nodding at his friend.

"Yeah, coming."

"Thank you everyone for being here! My name is Hu Chunho, and I am the coordinator of this event!"

You wince as the sound of the loudspeaker makes your head pang. You'd managed to get in a quick training session early this morning, and had not been surprised to see a host of other athletes in the gym already.

"As you all know, we're here to help raise money and awareness before the Olympic Games start. We've set up a fun two days for you guys - and hopefully a fun experience for all those following along at home. Throughout the city, we've set up checkpoints. Taking it in turns, you will be asked to travel to each consecutive checkpoint and complete a task with your teammate when you get there. The winning team will be crowned based on a mixture of factors, including points for each task, the most money raised, and the best viral moment! Remember, getting people engaged and donating is the aim of the game! Now, a list of the teams has been posted on the door over there - please get ready, fill up your bottles, and connect with your teammate and we will begin in 30."

You are faced with the true task of your trip, and the reason why you wanted to avoid it in the first place. Your brain skips in circles as you try to work out how to balance your dislike for social media with your need to win. The challenge ahead feels like it’s pulling you in two different directions—on one hand, the competitive spirit that has driven you this far pushes you to give your all, to win this event just like any other. On the other hand, the idea of chasing “viral moments” and being under the scrutiny of social media makes your stomach turn. You’re here to climb, to compete, not to entertain the masses with antics designed to go viral.

But there’s no backing out now. You’ve committed to this, and like it or not, it’s part of the game.

With a sigh, you weave through the crowd to where the team list is posted, each step a reminder of the tightrope you’re about to walk. As you scan the list for your name, your heart skips a beat when you find it—right next to Kim Mingyu’s.

Of course. You should’ve seen that coming. It’s like the universe has a sense of humour. Mingyu, the guy who’s practically a social media darling, always in the spotlight, the one who you'd argued with about embracing this side of sport last night. You can already imagine the smug grin on his face when he finds out.

You glance around, searching for him in the growing crowd of athletes, and spot him near the front, chatting animatedly with a group of other competitors. As if sensing your gaze, he turns, his eyes locking onto yours across the room. He flashes that familiar, easygoing smile and you wonder if that's meant for you or for the series of onlookers around.

Your pulse quickens as Mingyu’s gaze lingers on you. For a moment, you consider slipping away, avoiding the inevitable confrontation. But that would be cowardly, and if there’s one thing you’ve prided yourself on throughout your career, it’s facing challenges head-on. So, you straighten your shoulders and start making your way toward him.

As you approach, the group he’s with gradually shifts their focus to you, and the hum of their conversation quiets. Mingyu’s smile broadens, clearly amused by your reluctant approach.

“Looks like we’re teammates,” he says casually, as if the tension from last night’s conversation had never happened.

You manage a nod, trying to suppress the irritation bubbling up inside you. “Yeah, seems like it.”

One of the other athletes, a sprinter you vaguely recognize, perks up. “You guys make a good team—power and endurance. Should be interesting to see how you handle the challenges.”

“Thanks,” you reply, keeping your tone polite. You turn back to Mingyu, who’s watching you with that same inscrutable expression. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Mingyu echoes, tilting his head slightly. “I thought we were just winging it.”

His nonchalance grates on you. Of course, he’d suggest going with the flow. That’s probably how he handles everything—charming his way through life with a smile and a shrug. But you’re not wired that way. You need a strategy, a clear path to victory.

“I don’t know about you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “but I’d like to win this thing. So, maybe we should come up with a plan.”

Mingyu studies you for a moment, his smile fading into something more thoughtful. “Alright,” he says finally. “What do you have in mind?”

You hadn’t expected him to concede so easily, and it takes you a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, we know that completing the tasks is important, but so is raising money and creating those ‘viral moments.’ I think we should focus on playing to our strengths—use your popularity to get the attention and donations, and I’ll focus on the physical challenges.”

Mingyu nods slowly. “Makes sense. But we should also make sure we’re having fun with it. If we’re too focused on winning, people will notice, and it might turn them off from supporting us.”

You bite back the urge to argue, realizing that he has a point. This event isn’t just about competition; it’s about engaging with the audience, making them want to be part of your journey. And as much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu’s easygoing nature might actually help with that.

“Fine,” you agree, “but we still need to stay on top of the challenges. No slacking off.”

Mingyu grins again, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “Deal. Let’s show them what we’ve got.”

The tension between you eases slightly as you both start discussing potential strategies, and by the time Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeaker again, you feel a bit more prepared for what’s ahead.

“Alright, athletes, it’s time to head to your first checkpoint! Good luck, and remember—have fun!”

You'd agreed that Mingu would take on the first challenge so that he could introduce your tasks to the audience, and god you are glad that he did. As you'd hopped into the car to get a lift over to Meiji Jingu, the shrine that was to be the first checkpoint, you saw Mingyu being handed a traditional bow and quiver full of arrows. You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as the realization dawned on you: the first challenge was archery, something you had no experience with and Mingyu, as far as you knew, wasn’t exactly an expert in either. But, you had to admit, he looked the part—focused and serious, with the bow in his hands, and that ever-present confidence on his face.

As you lean back in the car, you are relieved that Mingyu is the one in the spotlight. You know how to navigate the climbing wall, how to plan your routes and push your body to its limits, but this? This is something entirely different.

On your journey, you watch the live stream coming from Mingyu's phone as he runs through the park to get to the shrine. He's happily chatting away to the audience with a level of casualness you've never experienced in the rare times you've been forced into the public spotlight. Watching him jogging along, bow and quiver in hand, hair tousled in the morning breeze, you wonder if he might go viral just for this image alone.

When you arrive at Meiji Jingu, the historic shrine surrounded by ancient trees, the atmosphere is electric. The shrine grounds are bustling with people—locals and tourists alike, all eager to see the Olympic athletes tackle this unique challenge. Cameras are everywhere, capturing every moment for the live stream, and you can acutely feel the eyes of thousands, maybe millions, watching from around the world.

After a short wait for the running athletes to arrive, you spot Mingyu and the other contestants entering the competition zone. At this moment, you can't help but admire the serene beauty of the shrine. The towering Torii gate, the carefully manicured gardens, and the ancient architecture give the place a sense of calm—at odds with the tension brewing in your stomach.

You spot Mingyu a little way off, adjusting his grip on the bow, chatting casually with one of the event organizers. Even from a distance, you can see the ease in his posture, the way he seems to be soaking in the energy of the crowd rather than shying away from it. As much as you hate to admit it, Mingyu seems in his element here.

"Hey, ready to show off those archery skills?" you call out, approaching him to take over the live stream duties for the team whilst he shoots.

He turns to you, flashing that trademark smile into the camera. "Ready as I'll ever be. How hard can it be, right?"

You laugh, shaking your head. "I’m glad it’s you and not me up there. I don’t think I’d even hit the target."

"Well, let's hope I do, or we’re both going to be in trouble," Mingyu jokes, but there is a seriousness in his eyes that tells you he is more focused than he lets on.

An organizer approaches, signalling that it is time to begin. The challenge is simple: hit the target as close to the centre as possible. The closer the shot, the more money raised for charity, and the more points your team would earn.

Mingyu takes his position, and you can feel the collective anticipation of the crowd as they quiet down, all eyes on him. The camera drones hover above, ready to capture every moment.

The camera in your own hand is shaking slightly. You steady your hand and your nerves as you narrate what you are seeing to the phone.

He draws the bowstring back, his movements surprisingly smooth for someone who, as far as you knew, has never held a bow before. You hold your breath, the tension in the air palpable as Mingyu focuses on the target.

Then, with a steady exhale, he releases the arrow. It soars through the air, and you watch, heart pounding, as it flies towards the target.

It isn’t a bullseye, but it is close—closer than you’d expected. The crowd erupt in cheers and applause, and you can’t help but join in, a grin spreading across your face. Mingyu turns to you, raising his arms in a mock victory pose, and you laugh, shaking your head at his theatrics and making sure to get the moment on camera.

“Not bad, Kim. Not bad at all,” you call out, genuinely impressed.

He jogs over to you, still holding the bow, a satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you we’d figure this out. Now it’s your turn to show me what you’ve got.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Let’s just hope the next challenge is something that doesn’t involve me embarrassing myself in front of the entire world.”

As the car pulls away from Meiji Jingu, you glance at Mingyu, who is scrolling through the latest updates on his phone, probably checking the social media response to his archery skills.

The city of Tokyo rushes by outside the window, vibrant and alive, and you feel a renewed sense of determination. This isn’t just a challenge—it is an opportunity. To prove yourself, not just as an athlete, but as someone who could rise to the occasion, no matter what it demanded.

“Looks like people are pretty impressed with your archery skills,” you remark, breaking the silence between you.

Mingyu glances up, his smile widening. “Yeah, not bad for a first try, huh? They’re calling it beginner’s luck, but I’ll take it.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Hey, whatever works. Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late,” he teases, flashing a playful grin. “So, any guesses on what the next challenge might be?”

You shrug, glancing out the window as the car slows down, weaving through a narrower street lined with small shops and eateries. “No idea. But I’m hoping it’s something more in my wheelhouse.”

The car eventually comes to a stop in front of a small, unassuming building. The sign above the entrance reads 'Nihonbashi Hamacho' in elegant calligraphy, and as you step out of the car, you notice the rich aroma of fresh food wafting through the air. A group of event organizers are already waiting, along with a few locals who have gathered, curious about what is happening.

Mingyu looks around, taking in the scene. “Smells good. Maybe the next challenge involves food?”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the possibility. “Wouldn’t mind that at all. But how would that tie into a charity event?”

As if on cue, one of the organizers approaches, holding up a small card with instructions. “Welcome to the second checkpoint, Nihonbashi Hamacho,” she begins with a smile. “Your task here is to make traditional Japanese soba noodles. You will then serve them to local residents, who will donate based on how well they think you did. The team with the highest donations at this checkpoint will earn the most points.”

You exchange a glance with Mingyu, a mixture of surprise and amusement on both your faces. Cooking wasn’t exactly what you’d expected, but it is certainly a unique challenge.

“Well, this should be interesting,” Mingyu says, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “Think you can pull it off?”

“I don’t know,” you reply. “But I’m sure it’ll be entertaining to watch me try.”

The organizers lead you into the building, which turns out to be a small, cozy kitchen set up specifically for the challenge. Everything is neatly arranged—flour, water, rolling pins, and a large wooden cutting board. A local chef stands by, ready to give instructions and oversee your efforts.

Mingyu immediately steps up to the station, eyeing the ingredients with a curious expression. “Alright, let’s see if you can make some magic happen.”

You join him, rolling up your sleeves as the chef begins to explain the process. It sounds simple enough—mix the dough, roll it out, cut it into thin, even strips—but as you get started, it becomes clear that it is much harder than it looks. The dough is tricky to work with, and your first few attempts at rolling it out are uneven and lumpy.

To your side, Mingyu is playing up your cooking for the audience of local spectators and online viewers, and you find yourself slowly joining in with his antics.

His positive attitude is annoyingly infectious, and soon you find yourself relaxing into the task, focusing more on enjoying the experience rather than worrying about perfection. The chef occasionally offers tips, guiding you with a patient smile, and gradually, your noodles start to look more like actual soba.

After what feels like an eternity of rolling, cutting, and re-rolling, you finally have a decent batch of noodles ready. The chef gives a nod of approval, and the organizers quickly set up a small serving station outside, where the locals are already gathering, eager to try the soba made by Olympic athletes.

Mingyu and you take turns serving the noodles, chatting with the locals and trying to convince them that your cooking is worth a generous donation. The atmosphere is light and playful, with plenty of jokes and laughter, and to your surprise, people seem genuinely impressed with your efforts.

“Hey, not bad,” one of the locals says after taking a bite. “I’d donate just for the entertainment, but the noodles are actually pretty good!”

Mingyu grins, giving you a playful nudge. “See? We might have a future as soba chefs if this whole sports thing doesn’t work out.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help but smile. The challenge has been a lot more enjoyable than you’d expected, and for the first time, you feel like you are really getting into the spirit of the event—engaging with people, raising money for a good cause, and, most importantly, having fun.

As the last bowl is served and the donations tallied, you and Mingyu stand back, watching the locals disperse with a sense of accomplishment. The organizers hand over the final donation amount, and you can’t help but feel a surge of pride at the total.

The other teams slowly gather their own tallies, but this time you are less concerned with your place in the rankings, and more with chatting to the remnant locals left in the area.

The car hums quietly as it moves through the busy streets of Tokyo. After the high of the soba noodle challenge, you find yourself falling into a contemplative silence. Mingyu, sitting beside you, is flipping through the comments and reactions on his phone, his earlier enthusiasm noticeably dimmed.

You glance over at him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Everything okay?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual.

Mingyu doesn’t look up, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Yeah, just…reading over the comments. Some of them are pretty harsh."

"Honestly, if it were up to me I'd just turn off the phone and focus on the tasks at hand." You grumble off-handedly, looking out at the Toyko skyline from the car.

"It's not really that simple if the whole point of being here is about raising awareness." He replies.

"Yeah but there's no point trying to pander to every person's perceptions of us. You're overthinking it."

As the car slows down at a red light, you spot a small street market tucked away in a side alley, illuminated by the warm glow of lanterns. The stalls are bustling with activity, vendors calling out to passersby, and the vibrant colours of fresh produce and handmade goods catch your eye.

"Hey, put the phone down and look at that!" You exclaim, nudging Mingyu and pointing out the window.

Mingyu looks up from his phone, following your gaze to the lively scene outside. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he takes in the sight. "That looks pretty cool," He admits, his tone lighter than it was just minutes ago.

"Let's take a pit stop and check it out - we can just say we got caught in traffic on the way," You suggest, excited by the atmosphere of the market. "It'll be a nice break."

Mingyu hesitates for a moment, but then nods, tucking his phone away into his pocket.

"Yeah, why not? Let's go."

You signal for the driver to pull over, promising to buy him a tasty snack to make up for the detour.

You step out into the cool evening air. The sound of the city is all around you, but the market feels like a little oasis of calm away from the noise of the competition and the city.

As you walk through the market, the sights, sounds, and smells envelop you. You can hear the sizzling of street food being cooked, the chatter of people bargaining with vendors, and the distant strumming of a guitar from a musician performing near the entrance. The aroma of grilled skewers and freshly baked bread makes your mouth water, and you realize how hungry you still are despite the soba noodles earlier.

Mingyu seems to relax as you both wander from stall to stall, occasionally stopping to admire the crafts or taste a sample offered by a vendor. You notice the tension ease from his shoulders, and the earlier clouds of doubt that hung over him seem to disappear.

At one stall, you find a small display of handcrafted jewellery. Delicate silver chains and intricately designed rings catch the light, and Mingyu picks up a simple bracelet, turning it over in his hands.

“This is nice,” he says, more to himself than to you. “My sister would love something like this.”

“You should get it for her,” you encourage, smiling softly up at him.

He nods, slipping the bracelet back into its place before handing over some cash to the vendor.

The sentimental thought behind the purchase, and Mingyu's affectionate and friendly atmosphere this whole trip seem entirely at odds with the image of the rakish, irresponsible party boy crafted of him in the headlines.

At the far end of the market, you come across a small food stall selling taiyaki. You order one each, Mingyu opting for custard while you go for red bean, and an extra one for your driver.

As you bite into the warm pastry, the sweetness spreads through your mouth, and you let out a contented sigh. Mingyu chuckles at your reaction, his earlier mood now completely gone.

“This was a good idea,” he admits, taking a bite of his own taiyaki. “I needed this.”

“Sometimes, it’s good to just disconnect and enjoy the moment,” you reply, leaning against a nearby railing as you savour the treat.

He looks at you with an expression you can't really distinguish but makes your stomach flip.

"I get why you and Wonwoo are friends - you're pretty similar." He finally says, and you find yourself looking up at him, intrigued to know what makes him say that.

"I mean, you might somehow be even more averse to human contact than him, but you both have a grounded connection to reality that I lack sometimes. I admire it."

Such a simple statement - a judgement of you that anyone could have made - has you feeling a little light-headed. It's just a moment of tender insight, perhaps blown out of proportion due to your lack of going out over the last few months, but you can't help but feel bashfully shy at his admiration.

And yet, in the back of your mind, a small doubt nags at you, wondering if this was his move - to shower someone with attention and make them feel seen just to leave after it gets boring again.

"Ha, ah, thanks." You say, unable to keep the awkwardness from your voice. "That's ironic - because grounded, you know, climbing and all ..."

He lets out a puff of laughter, but it feels strained and you're choking on the dead air between you.

"Right, let's get back - they'll probably start worrying soon!" You declare, jaggedly cutting into the silence. Spinning on your heel, you don't wait to see if he's following you or not.

As the car approaches the next checkpoint, Odaiba Marine Park, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. The sun is starting to dip low in the sky, casting long shadows across the city, and the air has cooled considerably.

The organisers greet you at the entrance to the park, explaining the next challenge: a swimming relay. The task involved swimming out to a buoy, retrieving a flag, and racing back to shore. It sounds straightforward enough - although swimming isn't exactly your strong suit.

"Finally, something I can show off in!" Mingyu grins, thanking the organiser who helped you at the entrance. You bite back a remark about how the whole day has really been about who can show off the most.

"Guess I'll be relying on you to carry us through this one." You chuckle, trying to hide the nerves building in you at the thought of failing.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got us covered. But you’re swimming too, right? It’s a relay, so we both have to take a turn.” He shrugs casually, and you wish you had the confidence he has.

“Right,” you say, forcing a smile. “Guess I’ll just have to do my best.”

The idea of letting your team down, of being the weak link, gnaws at you.

You walk onto the beach, the water glittering in the light of the low, late afternoon sun. The crowd of spectators and media are even larger here. The atmosphere is electric, with the excitement of the event palpable in the air.

As you and Mingyu make your way to the starting point, you try to block out the noise, the cameras, the expectations. All you have to do is get through this challenge.

The event coordinator greets you both, handing Mingyu a sleek wetsuit and giving you a similar one. “You’ve got about ten minutes to suit up and get ready. We’ll start the relay as soon as everyone’s in position.”

Mingyu takes the wetsuit with a confident nod, but you hesitate. The tight suit is designed for efficiency, but you can’t help but feel self-conscious as you pull it on, the material clinging to your skin. When you are finally suited up, you catch a glimpse of yourself in one of the reflective surfaces nearby and have to resist the urge to cringe.

Together, you walk down to the water's edge, where the other teams are already gathering.

"Okay, game plan-" Mingyu gives you a small smile, and you know that he's only really talking strategy to calm you down. "You should take the first lap, and then I can make up for any time you lose - if I even need to!"

You nod, steeling your nerves. Competition is what you are good at, even if swimming is not. You're not going to let yourself down now.

As the starting signal blares, you take a deep breath and plunge into the water. The coolness of the ocean envelops you, and for a brief moment, it's all you can focus on - the sensation of the water against your skin, the rhythmic pull of your arms as you begin to swim.

You feel yourself slipping into that familiar headspace. Brutal efficiency and speed at the cost of the pain in your limbs only further motivates you as you manage to tune out the excited shouts of the spectators and other teams.

Reaching the buoy, you see two of the other teams had already grabbed their flags and turned around. Although the disappointment of not being first flares up in you, you know that all you need to do is keep up with the rest of the group and Mingyu will do the rest of the work for you.

Pushing your aching limbs to their limits, you splash your way back to the shoreline. Your bones sigh with relief as your fingertips graze the sand banks and you hear a splash behind you as Mingyu leaps into the water.

Pulling yourself up onto the beach, spluttering out some wayward water, you watch Mingyu's confident strides through the water. Although you've seen his races before on TV, watching it in real life is like nothing else. The powerful strokes, effortlessly pushing him forward, makes it clear that he was born to be in the water.

By the second quarter of his lap, he's already managed to take the lead. You feel yourself cheering out despite the burning sensation in your lungs. Reaching out for the second flag, he easily lifts it up, beginning to spin to turn back for the second lap.

Your excitement turns to confusion as you watch him just ... stop.

"What are you doing!? Keep going! We're going to win!" You yell, confusion bubbling over into frustration.

But he doesn't hear you, or isn't listening.

Mingyu has turned back around, having spotted another team struggling to untangle their flag from the buoy. Swimming over to them, he steadies the base of the buoy so that the swimmer is able to pull the flag free from its constraints.

Your stomach drops as the team previously in second place breaks out in excited screams, their second-leg swimmer touching the sand bank.

Looking back out at the water incredulously, disappointment searing through you, you watch Mingyu glide back towards the shore, pulling ahead of another team for a third-place position.

"What was that!?" You lash out, as Mingyu pulls himself up onto the bank, panting heavily with droplets of water dripping from his hair and eyelashes. He's looking up at you with a confused, puppy-dog expression, and it's only annoying you more.

"We could have won! Why did you stop?"

Mingyu takes a moment to catch his breath, water dripping from his face as he processes your words. His confusion slowly morphs into something more serious, his brows knitting together as he stands up to face you.

“They needed help,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your frustration only deepens, and you can feel the heat rising in your chest. “But we were winning, Mingyu! This is a competition—we’re here to win, not to play lifeguard!”

Mingyu’s expression hardens, the usual lightness in his eyes replaced by a quiet resolve. “I know it’s a competition, but it’s not just about winning. It’s about more than that—it’s about sportsmanship, about helping each other out. They were stuck, and I wasn’t going to just leave them there.”

You open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. Deep down, you know he’s right. You’ve always valued integrity in sports, the idea that the game is bigger than the outcome. But in the heat of the moment, all you could see was the finish line, and the thought of losing—especially when victory had been within reach—had blinded you to everything else.

You let out a long breath, trying to rein in your emotions. “But we were so close… You were in the lead, Mingyu. We could’ve taken first.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. "You're unbelievable."

He shakes his head, walks up the beach, and leaves you to stew in your quiet shame.

"You got mad at him because he ... helped someone?"

Iseul's obvious confusion is only making you feel worse.

"Yes, that's exactly what I did." You sigh into the phone. You'd called Iseul the moment you'd gotten back to your room, not even waiting to shower off the crusty salt water in your hair.

"Squid, that's a little bit insane." You can hear her grimacing on the other side of the line.

"I know," You admit, chewing on your bottom lip. "This whole day I've been so anal about winning, but the most enjoyable parts were all the times that I wasn't thinking about it! I liked making things for other people, getting to meet the fans, and exploring the Tokyo market. I don't know why I just blew up like that at the end, especially considering, as you said, he was just helping someone."

A long hum buzzes through the phone.

"I don't know squid," Iseul begins, carefully pacing her words. "I think you're so used to thinking about competitions and winning, and now you've been faced with a situation where that's not as important, and a person who has very different priorities to yourself, and you're struggling to deal with it."

"I know, you're right." You say, letting out a long breath. "It's just ... Mingyu's approach to all of this is so different from mine, and I guess a part of me is jealous that he's able to balance having fun and still doing well in competitions in a way that I've never been able to do."

Iseul's voice softens. "It's not a bad thing to want to win, but you have to remember that it's not the only thing that's important in life."

You nod, even though she can't see you. "I can't believe I let my frustration get the better of me. I didn't even give him credit for what he did. He was just being kind, and I ... I snapped at him."

"I don't think it's too late to make things right," Iseul says gently. "Talk to him. Apologise. It's okay to admit when you're wrong."

You fall silent for a moment, considering her words. The knot in your stomach tightens at the thought of facing Mingyu again, but you know that she's right. You can't just let this fester.

"Yeah," You finally say, your voice firmer. "I'll talk to him. I just hope he doesn't think I'm a complete asshole."

Iseul laughs softly. "Based on what you've said about him, Mingyu doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge. He's experienced all of these pressures too, I'm sure he'll understand."

"Thanks, Sullie," You say, grateful for the calming presence of your friend.

"Anytime squid. Now go shower - you can't face up to the sexy man you heavily insulted smelling like sea rot!"

You chuckle, wishing her the best as you hang up the phone. For a moment, you linger at the edge of your bed, letting Iseul's words sink in. Dragging yourself in the shower, the warm water washes away the salt and the stress bubbling up in your mind. As the steam fills the bathroom, you replay the events in your mind, trying to figure out what you’ll say to Mingyu. Apologizing has never been easy for you, especially when it comes to admitting that your single-minded focus on winning might not always be the best approach.

Changing into something more comfortable - sort, worn jeans and a loose sweater - you make your way out to the rooftop garden in the Olympic Village. You aren't sure where you will find Mingyu, but you figure that if you were trying to decompress after a hard day this is where you'd go.

The garden was quiet, bathed in the soft glow of string lights that crisscrossed above the paths. The sky was a deep shade of indigo, dotted with the first stars of the night, and the distant hum of the city below felt like a comforting lullaby. You walked slowly along the path, taking in the scent of blooming flowers and the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

As you rounded a corner, you spotted a familiar figure sitting on a bench, his face illuminated by the warm light. Mingyu was there, dressed in casual clothes, his hair still damp from his own shower. He was leaning back against the bench, staring up at the sky.

"Hey, mind if I sit?" You say, your voice tentative.

He looks up, emotions flashing across his eyes as he takes you in. The silence in the moment before he responds feels like it drags on for an eternity.

"Yeah, sure." He finally replies, a coldness to his tone that chills you more than the late evening air.

Carefully perching at the end of the bench, leaving enough room between you, you release a long breath, hoping for the courage to rectify the situation.

"I wanted to apologise for earlier. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You were just trying to help, and I... I was so caught up in the idea of winning that I didn’t see what was really important."

Mingyu's gaze swings around to meet your own, and you can see that he's trying to beat down the anger he's feeling.

"Well, I appreciate that." He relies steelily. "But, you know, this whole obsession with winning isn't cool. You've had this problem with me all day about how I do things - that I'm more laid back, that I like to have fun, or be in the public spotlight. But, really, out of the two of us, it wasn't my actions that ruined the mood."

His words cut through the quiet of the rooftop garden, leaving you momentarily speechless. You knew this conversation wouldn't be easy, but hearing the hurt and frustration in Mingyu's voice brings the reality of the situation crashing down on you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I know," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "You're right. I let my obsession with winning cloud my judgment, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair, and I’m sorry."

Mingyu’s eyes narrow slightly as he studies you, his expression guarded. "It’s not just about what happened today," he says, his voice measured. "It’s like... you’ve been judging me from the start. Like I don’t take this seriously because I’m not as intense as you are. But that’s not who I am. I love competing, but I also believe in enjoying the experience, in being kind to the people around me. That doesn’t make me any less dedicated."

The knot in your chest tightens as you realize just how deeply you’ve misjudged him. You’ve been so wrapped up in your own perspective that you failed to see things from his side.

"I don't know how to express how sorry I am. I got caught up in the winning, but I also got caught up in all the headlines and tabloid articles. I acted like I knew you before I actually did - even though all of your actions today have shown me the complete opposite of how they portray you."

You take in a deep, steadying breath.

"The truth is, you've made me confront a part of myself I've been running from for a while now. Your effortless friendliness, your kindness to everyone, and the way you live your life outside of the competition - it was like watching the truth that I'd been avoiding. The truth that my way of doing things, the complete focus to the detriment of every other part of my life, wasn't actually necessary after all. And that revelation wasn't something I wanted to confront. You just happened to be the unlucky recipient of my turmoil - just by existing - and that was entirely unfair of me. I understand if you think I'm a major asshole or a loser, but if you can find it in you to forgive me I promise all of that baggage will no longer be put on you."

The air weighs heavy in the aftermath of your confession.

Mingyu looks at you for a long moment, before slowly nodding his head.

"I don't think your an asshole or a loser," He says sincerely, with a small chuckle in his voice that immediately reverberates through your body and eases out the tension. "I do think that you should stop reading tabloid newspapers though."

You let out a small huff of laughter, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding.

"Look, I know what I said was harsh," He begins, and you quickly shake your head in disagreement. "No, it was. The drive you have is something that reminds me a lot of myself. You might not believe it now, but I used to do the exact same thing as you - head completely filled with both my own and other people's expectations. I honestly don't think there's anyone here that's gonna be any different. And your drive, it makes you great at what you do - and you are really great at it - but there's so much more to you than being good at climbing."

"That's the lesson I learned for myself, and that I'm still having to learn. Being good at swimming is not my only personality trait, nor is it the only thing I like to do. I still struggle with what other people expect of me, and, like you showed me today, sometimes I do need to get out of that social media bubble. I really did appreciate that, by the way." He continues.

You feel a wave of relief wash over you at both his forgiveness and his gratitude. Part of you feels even worse for judging this man who's been nothing but kind and introspective, but a larger part feels serene basking in the atmosphere of your late-night confessions.

"Can I ask you something?" You say softly, still apprehensive about disrupting the gentle calm that existed between you.

Mingyu nods, humming a 'yes' for you to continue. His posture is far more relaxed than when you first found him, and under the background lights of the cityscape you can't help but notice how beautiful he looks.

"All of the stuff about the partying and the girls - is any of it true? To be clear, it doesn't matter either way, I'd just like to get to know you better." You ask, feeling too shy to meet his eyes.

Mingyu chuckles, the sound warm and reassuring. "I mean, some of it's true I guess. I don't really think I've done enough to live up to the 'party boy' title though," he says, his tone light but honest. "Yeah, I've had my fun, gone to some parties, met some people, but it's not like I'm out every night getting into fights or causing trouble. The only reason it gets picked up on more than any other athlete is because I have a big following on social media so the stories sell more."

You nod, still too shy to meet his eyes, but you can sense the sincerity in his voice. It’s clear that he’s not trying to brush off the question or hide anything from you.

"I guess when you’re in the public eye, people tend to exaggerate things," he continues, his voice softening. "And, yeah, I’ve been with a few people, but it’s not like I’m out there chasing every girl I meet. Most of it is just rumours and assumptions. You know how it is—people like to talk."

You finally muster the courage to glance up at him, and the gentle look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. "I appreciate you being honest with me," you say quietly. "I didn’t mean to pry, I just… wanted to know the real you."

You watch his face contort from a peaceful smile to an excited expression, raised eyebrows and a large grin that makes you jittery.

"I have an idea - why don't we go out and do something fun? There's not gonna be many chances when the games actually begin, and you're gonna be too tired to want to. But Tokyo nightlife is unlike anything else, and that way we can get to know each other better outside of the pressures of the competition. What do you think?"

He's standing up, his hand outstretched for you to take and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest at the gesture.

This time, you don't need any time to decide. A broad smile taking over your face, you reach out to grab his hand and pull yourself up off of the bench with a small nod.

“Okay, let’s do it,” you say, feeling a rush of excitement that mirrors his own. There’s something thrilling about the spontaneity of the moment, the idea of exploring the city with him, away from the pressures of the competition and the watchful eyes of the media.

Mingyu’s grin widens as he gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “Awesome! I know just the place,” he says, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. “It’s this little rooftop bar with an amazing view of the city. I think you’ll love it.”

As you walk together through the vibrant streets of Tokyo, the city’s energy pulses around you. Neon signs flicker in a kaleidoscope of colours, and the sounds of laughter and music fill the air.

When you arrive at the rooftop bar, the view takes your breath away. The city sprawls out below you, a sea of lights stretching as far as the eye can see. It’s magical, and for a moment, you both stand there in silence, taking it all in.

Mingyu leads you to a cozy corner, where you settle into comfortable chairs with a perfect view of the skyline. The atmosphere is relaxed, the kind of place where you can talk for hours without feeling rushed. And that’s exactly what you do.

As the night wears on, the conversation flows easily. You talk about everything and nothing—your favourite places to travel, the challenges of balancing personal life with the demands of being an athlete, your dreams for the future. There’s a vulnerability in the way Mingyu opens up to you, sharing stories and thoughts he doesn’t often reveal. And you find yourself doing the same, feeling a sense of trust and connection that surprises you.

"You know, my flatmate, Iseul, she calls me squid?" You laugh, embarrassed by the childhood nickname.

"Woah, okay - was not expecting that! There must be a story there?" Mingyu replies, a light breeziness to his laughter.

"Nope, no explanation." You quip, shaking your head in mock indignation.

"Oh, come on!"

"Okay, yeah that was a lie." You chuckle. "In elementary school, on the first day of class, Iseul and I sat next to each other in science class. I'd just moved to the area - I think we were about eight or nine? - and I was so nervous to be in a new school and meet new people. Anyways, I hype myself up to talk to the cool looking girl with one of those summer holiday braids. As I go to open my mouth and speak, my pen explodes in my hand, covering my hands, my shirt, my face - everywhere. Iseul has called me squid ever since. I guess I'm just grateful she still decided to take a chance on me after that."

You peak your head downwards, your ears burning up as you let out an embarrassed laugh.

"Oh, wow - that's a pretty good nickname originator." Mingyu hums. "I never really had any proper nicknames in school, the best I've got is my sister calling me squishy when we were really young."

You release a relieved giggle, glad for the levity Mingyu is able to bring to each moment.

You push your hair back for your face in embarrassment, only to feel Mingyu leaning forward and pushing your hair behind your ear for you. With his face so close to your own and the feeling of his hands next to your face, you feel your smile drop and lips part in shock.

The moment only lasts a second, before his face has moved back again, his hands away from your hair.

Mingyu leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face as he watches the city lights flicker. “You know,” he says softly, “I’ve been to so many places, done so many things, but this… tonight… it feels different.”

You look at him, your heart swelling at his words. “I feel the same way,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad we did this.”

He turns to you, his eyes warm and full of something you can’t quite name. “Me too.”

As the night stretches and the bar begins to empty, neither of you are in a hurry to leave.

"I heard you guys didn't make it to karaoke yesterday, would you wanna go now?" You question, feeling a levity you haven't felt in a long time.

Mingyu's eyes light up at your suggestion. The look is honestly adorable, and you can't help but feel even more endeared towards this overly enthusiastic man.

"Karaoke? Now? Absolutely!" He exclaims, the smile across his face contagious.

"You really like karaoke, huh?" You tease, enjoying how animated he's become.

"Who doesn't?" He replies, standing up and offering you his hand once again. "Come on, we have to go before the night is over."

Together, you leave the now-empty bar behind, stepping out into the cool night air. The city is still alive, even at this late hour, and you can hear the faint sounds of heels clicking against the pavement as club-goers making their way home, takeaway boxes in hand.

As you walk towards the nearest karaoke spot, Mingyu is practically bouncing with anticipation. “Okay, but just to warn you,” he says with a playful grin, “I take karaoke very seriously. I’ve got a playlist and everything.”

You raise an eyebrow, amused. “A playlist? You’re really prepared.”

“Always,” he says with a wink. “But don’t worry, I’m up for anything. What’s your go-to karaoke song?”

You think for a moment, considering the question. “Probably something upbeat and fun. Maybe a classic pop song that everyone knows - some Shinee or BIG BANG?"

Mingyu nods approvingly. “Good choices. I’m all about the crowd-pleasers too. Nothing better than getting everyone singing along.”

By the time you reach the karaoke bar, you’re both buzzing with anticipation. The place is lively, with groups of people gathered around tables, cheering on their friends as they sing their hearts out. The atmosphere is warm and inviting, and you feel any lingering nerves melt away.

Mingyu arranges for a private room, and as you step inside, you’re greeted by colourful lights and a large screen displaying an endless list of songs. You can’t help but feel a little thrill of excitement for spending this time with Mingyu.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Mingyu says, handing you the remote to choose the first song.

You scroll through the options, finally settling on a catchy, upbeat tune that you know will get the energy flowing. As the music starts, you grab the microphone and throw yourself into the performance, letting go of any self-consciousness. Mingyu watches with a grin, clapping along and cheering you on.

When your song ends, Mingyu takes his turn, picking a song with a dramatic flair. His voice is surprisingly good, and he belts out the lyrics with a passion that’s both impressive and hilarious. You can’t stop laughing, but you’re also genuinely impressed—he’s not kidding when he says he takes karaoke seriously.

The night continues like this, with the two of you trading songs, singing duets, and laughing until your sides hurt. There’s a carefree joy in the air, a sense of freedom that you haven’t felt in a long time. It’s as if, for these few hours, you’re both able to forget about the pressures of the competition and just enjoy the moment.

As the final song of the night plays, a slow, sentimental tune, you find yourselves standing side by side, sharing the microphone. The playful banter fades, replaced by a quiet connection as you sing together. It’s a sweet, unexpected moment of closeness, and when the song ends, you both linger in the silence that follows.

Mingyu turns to you, his expression softening. "Thanks for this, it was a great suggestion." He says quietly.

You smile up at him, feeling the warmth of his words. "It was perfect."

The tension between you floods the room in a manner that feels entirely different to the argument earlier. The way he's looking at you and the fluttering of your heart - you feel yourself being sucked into his aura and he's not doing anything to stop it from happening.

But then it's all too much and all too fast, and your brain processes the situation, and you're here, with the most handsome man you've ever seen, and you're just you. With the little experience of romance you've had, dampened by the very little time you've ever spent trying to pursue it, you feel yourself floundering, unsure of what to do or if you've entirely misread the situation.

What if this was just a friendly night out between teammates? Something to clear the air after a disagreement? What if you're feeling something that he's not?

Breaking the eye contact and pulling your head back around to the karaoke machine, you let out a little, awkward cough.

"We should probably be heading back now - don't want to oversleep and miss the second day of tasks, right?" You say, attempting to keep your voice light but utterly failing.

"Right, yeah, definitely." Mingyu replies, and you can't bear turning back to look at him to further gauge his reaction.

You wake up early on the second day of the campaign. You had tossed and turned all night, your mind racing with endless thoughts about last night. Deciding it is better to get up and do something productive to clear your head, you end up getting up and heading down to the training pool for a few laps of calming cardio.

Reaching the pool, you strip down to your swimsuit, wrapping a tool around your body and holding on to your bag which you intend to just dump next to the pool.

The sight you are greeted with when you reach the pool stops you in your tracks. Mingyu is already there, cutting through the water with powerful, graceful strokes. He's completely in his element, his focus entirely on the rhythm of his movements, oblivious to your presence. For a moment, you stand there, towel clutched around you, watching him. There's something almost mesmerising about the way he moves, each stroke smooth and deliberate, a perfect blend of strength and precision.

As you continue to watch, a swirl of emotions churns within you. The memories of the previous night, the almost-kiss, and the way you pulled away flood your mind. Part of you wants to rush forward, to apologise, to explain your hesitation, but another part holds you back, uncertain of how to approach him.

Caught frozen between your two instincts, it's Mingyu who first notices you standing there. He stops at the edge of the pool, his eyes locking onto yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. The tension lingers in the air, something unsettled and unspoken.

“Morning,” Mingyu says, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of something more—concern, maybe?

“Morning,” you reply, managing a small smile as you step closer, placing your bag down beside the pool. “Didn’t expect to see you here so early.”

"Gotta keep a consistent routine going, even if I'm going to spend the day doing more exhausting physical activities." He nods, pulling himself out of the pool and reaching for a towel.

You can't help but marvel at his swimmer's physique. Broad shoulders, a muscular back, and water trickling down his toned stomach. You catch yourself staring, and feel embarrassingly predatory with the way you just ogled him.

"Of course!" Your voice comes out squeaky. "Same here; I just wanted to get in some cardio before the campaign starts again."

"The pool's all yours, I just finished." He makes eye contact with you, offering a small smile as he reaches down and grabs his own bag from the floor.

"Thanks!" It's all you can muster up, and you have to push the bubble of disappointment down as he leaps back up the steps towards the exit.

Perching at the side of the pool, you drop your bag and towel down and submerge yourself into the clarifyingly cold water, brushing aside everything but the feeling of your body moving through the water.

The energy around the Olympic Village is electric, buzzing with the anticipation of the day ahead. You can feel it in the air, in the quick, purposeful strides of athletes and the hurried conversations between event organizers.

As you finish your quick meal in the communal dining area, Hu Chunho’s voice crackles over the loudspeakers, calling all the participants to gather at the main event area. You can feel your heart rate pick up, your body already thrumming with the adrenaline that had become so familiar over the past day.

Rather than travelling by car, all the pairs are given a map of the city and offered clues to find specific landmarks or hidden spots around Tokyo.

Peering over at the map of the team next to you, you note that their clues are different to your own.

"I think we might all have different tasks," You say, looking from the map to Mingyu. He hums a note of understanding.

You look back down at your first clue.

'Where the world converges under neon lights, countless footsteps create a symphony of chaos and order. Stand where five paths meet and become part of Tokyo's heartbeat.'

"Oh, I know what this is!" Mingyu exclaims, a grin gracing his features. "It's Shibuya Crossing - the converging paths and neon lights. It has to be!"

You feel yourself smiling back at him, a spike of pride at his quick wit.

"You're right, I'm sure of it. Let's get going now!" You reply with excited glee.

With the destination clear in your minds, you and Mingyu waste no time. You quickly gather your things and set off toward the nearest subway station. The map in your hands outlines the general route, but Mingyu’s familiarity with the city helps you navigate through the bustling streets more efficiently.

The journey is a blur of fast-paced steps and fleeting glimpses of Tokyo’s vibrant city life. As you near Shibuya, the energy in the air intensifies. The streets grow more crowded, the buildings taller, and the lights brighter. When you finally arrive at Shibuya Crossing, the sight before you is both exhilarating and overwhelming.

The crossing is as chaotic and mesmerising as you imagined. Hundreds of people are waiting at the edges, ready to surge forward the moment the lights change. Neon signs tower above, flashing advertisements in a dazzling array of colours. It’s the epitome of organized chaos—a perfect reflection of Tokyo’s heartbeat.

“Here we are,” Mingyu says, his voice filled with awe as he takes in the scene. “It’s even more intense than I remember.”

You nod, feeling the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Yeah, this is incredible. But what’s our next step? We’re here, but I’m sure we need to do something to complete the task.”

Mingyu pulls out the next clue, which had been tucked under the first. “‘Capture the moment where the world pauses and moves in perfect harmony. Your time in the spotlight will guide you to the next step.’”

You exchange a glance, both of you quickly understanding the challenge. “We need to take a photo or video of the crossing,” you suggest. “But it’s more than just capturing the chaos—we need to find that moment of perfect harmony.”

The two of you wait, watching the flow of people, searching for that precise moment when the crossing becomes a symphony of movement. After a few cycles of the lights changing, you finally see it—a brief pause when all the pedestrians are perfectly aligned in their crossings, creating a visual harmony that’s almost surreal.

“Now!” Mingyu says, raising his phone to capture the scene. You run into the centre of the crossing, spreading your arms up in the air and grinning as wide as you can before running back towards a chuckling Mingyu.

"Getting more into the spirit of things, huh?" He teases, and you feel your cheeks turning red.

"More points for a viral moment." You remind him playfully, feeling that familiar elevated pace as he smiles back at you.

You take a moment to appreciate the photo before Mingyu checks the time on his phone. “We should send this in to confirm we’ve completed the task. I think they’ll give us our next clue once we do.”

With a nod, you send off the photo, your heart still racing with the thrill of the moment.

Mingyu’s phone buzzes with a new notification. He checks it and grins, showing you the screen. “Looks like we’re moving on to the next location. Ready to keep going?”

You smile, the excitement in your chest bubbling over. “Absolutely. Let’s see where this adventure takes us next.”

'Where giants clash in a ring of honour, find the arena where tradition and strength reign supreme. Seek the sacred ground where wrestlers bow to ancient rituals and the thundering footsteps echo the spirit of Japan’s warriors.'

"Wait," you say, your eyes lighting up as you reread the clue. "Do we get to go to the sumo wrestling arena?"

Mingyu looks up from the clue, his own excitement building as he connects the dots. “Ryogoku Sumo Hall! That has to be it. The 'ring of honour' and 'giants clashing'—it’s definitely talking about sumo wrestling!”

With your destination clear, you both set off, navigating through the bustling streets of Tokyo. The journey takes you deeper into the heart of the city, where the modern skyscrapers slowly give way to more traditional structures. The closer you get to Ryogoku, the more the city's energy seems to shift.

The atmosphere around the hall is vibrant, with banners fluttering in the breeze and the faint sounds of drums echoing from within. It's as if the very air is charged with the spirit of the ancient sport.

As you and Mingyu step into the grand interior of Ryogoku Sumo Hall, you’re immediately struck by the rich history that permeates the space. The arena, with its towering roof and sacred dohyō at the centre, exudes a sense of reverence. You can almost hear the echoes of past matches and the cheers of crowds that have filled these seats over the years.

A guide approaches you with a warm smile, holding a scroll that seems fitting for the traditional setting. “Welcome to Ryogoku Sumo Hall,” she says. “Your task today is to immerse yourselves in the ancient traditions of sumo. You’ll be participating in a special challenge that combines both physical skill and cultural understanding.”

Mingyu and you exchange intrigued glances as the guide continues, “First, you’ll each don a mawashi, the traditional sumo belt. Then, you’ll enter the dohyō for a ceremonial shiko—this is the ritual leg-stomping exercise that all sumo wrestlers perform to purify the ring and demonstrate their strength.”

The guide gestures towards a small area where the costumes have been laid out for you. You both eagerly move to change, slipping into the mawashi with some assistance. It feels a bit awkward at first, but the sense of tradition and the significance of the garment quickly overtake any discomfort.

Once you’re ready, the guide leads you to the edge of the dohyō where a set of cameras and one of the event coordinators is waiting on the sidelines.

“The shiko involves raising your leg as high as you can and then stomping down forcefully,” the guide explains to you and the audience. “It symbolizes grounding yourself and dispelling any evil spirits. It’s as much about mental focus as it is physical strength.”

Mingyu steps into the ring first, his expression one of determined focus. He takes a deep breath, then lifts his leg high, bringing it down with a powerful stomp. The sound reverberates through the hall, and even from the sidelines, you can feel the intensity of the movement.

Encouraged by Mingyu’s performance, you follow suit. You step into the ring, feeling the cool clay beneath your feet. Taking a moment to centre yourself, you lift your leg, feeling the stretch in your muscles, and then bring it down with as much force as you can muster. The stomp resonates through the space, and for a moment, you feel totally connected to the earth of the theatre.

After completing the shiko, the guide smiles approvingly. “Well done,” she says. “For the final part of your task, you’ll need to demonstrate your understanding of the sumo rituals by performing a brief reenactment of the pre-match ceremonies. This includes the ritual clapping, salt-throwing, and bowing. It’s important to show respect and precision in each movement.”

You and Mingyu work together to recall the steps you’ve observed from past sumo matches. As you move through the rituals—clapping your hands sharply to summon the attention of the gods, throwing salt to purify the ring, and bowing to show respect to your opponent—you feel ever more connected to Mingyu.

As you finish the task, the guide hands you a small, ceremonial fan, a symbol of your successful completion of the challenge. “You’ve shown great respect and enthusiasm for our traditions,” she says. “Your next clue will lead you to your following adventure in Tokyo. But for now, take a moment to appreciate the history you’ve become a part of.”

You and Mingyu exchange a look of mutual pride, before offering one last wave to the audience and going to take off the costume.

Exiting the sumo hall through the front entrance, you hear a ding on your phone and pull it out to reveal the third clue.

'Where the flame of unity is rekindled, and the world’s eyes gather once more. Seek the grounds where champions are crowned, and the spirit of competition ignites the heart of Japan.'

"Back to the Olympic stadium?" Mingyu queries, looking over the clue.

"Sounds like it," You say, still uncertain. The clue's language is undeniably pointing back to the arena, but you're unsure of what could be waiting for you back at the beginning.

With the Tokyo National Stadium as your destination, the two of you pick up the pace, heading back through the city. The streets are familiar now, and the route to the stadium is etched into your memory from the many times you’ve travelled to and from the venue.

Stepping into the stadium, you spot two of the over teams already waiting in one corner of the track field, and make your way over to them.

"Guess we're all here for the final task?" Chunghee beams.

Taking a moment, you look around the stadium, completely soaking in the atmosphere. In a few weeks, you'll be back walking here with your whole team, representing your country. The sense of awe and pride has you feeling small under the arena lights.

Soon enough, the rest of the teams begin to filter into the stadium.

Feeling a presence behind you, you spin around expecting to see Mingyu. A smile breaks over your face as you see your other teammate walking up to you.

"Didn't catch you last night. Did you finally get that night in?" Wonwoo chuckles. His clothes are dirty, as if he's been rolling around in the mud somewhere.

"Not quite," You respond, a ghost of a smile flickering at your lips.

"Cryptic."

"Gotta keep you on your toes, haven't I?"

"Please, you're about as predictable as the sunrise." He teases, and you bat his arm in mock offence.

"You wouldn't be able to guess what I was doing if you tried." You retort.

"Oh, really? It wouldn't have something to do with the hunky swimmer that hasn't let you out of his sight since you got here?"

You feel your cheeks warm at Wonwoo's teasing, but quickly regain your composure, rolling your eyes in response. "Oh, please," you say, crossing your arms playfully. "You're just jealous of me and Mingyu's great teamwork."

Wonwoo smirks, clearly not buying your casual deflection. "Uh-huh, sure. But just so you know, you're not as subtle as you think." He winks, making you groan in mock frustration.

"Come on, Wonwoo, can we just focus on the tasks and not whatever wild theories you're cooking up in that head of yours?" You protest with a lightness to your tone.

He chuckles, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I'll back off. But if I were a betting man, I'd put money on you two spending last night together. He's practically glowing today."

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. "Maybe it's you who's got the crush."

"I have it on good authority that I'm not the one with the crush."

"What's that supposed to mean-"

"Hey, man, ready for the final challenge?" Before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo turns around to greet Mingyu who's walked over to the pair of you, but not without shooting you a knowing look first.

Mingyu nods, glancing at you with a smile. "Absolutely. What have you two been talking about?"

"Just catching up," You reply quickly, giving Wonoo a look that says to keep his mouth shut.

Wonwoo laughs, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Yeah, nothing important. Let’s just say I’m curious to see how this day pans out."

The event coordinators hand you over the final task - although the course at the middle of the arena has already given the game away.

The last challenge of the day was revealed to be an intense relay race. Each team member would have to compete a different leg of the course, each designed to play to different strengths. The course was a mix of speed, agility, and sheer endurance - sprints though tight obstacle courses, balance tests on narrow means, and a gruelling final leg that involve scaling a steep incline with a weighted sack of rice together.

"Hey, so, how do you wanna play this?" Mingyu calls out, huddling next to you as to conceal your planning from the other teams. The warmth from his body next to you makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"Uh, um, I'm amenable. Is there a particular part you'd rather do?" You cough, looking over the course with an analytical eye.

"Your balance is undoubtedly better than mine, so maybe you should do the beam and I'll do the sprints?" He replies and you nod in agreement.

"That makes sense to me!" You smile before taking your phone from your pocket to take a photo of the two of you. "Gotta keep up the socials, right?"

Mingyu shakes his head in surprise, a small laugh escaping him.

"You must have had a good teacher."

You wink at him in response, and instantly feel the blush creeping back up your neck.

Looking around, you see the other teams still huddled together, getting ready and planning their strategies.

"So, uh, you and Wonwoo are close right?" Mingyu asks, the confident air to his tone noticeably lacking.

"Oh, yeah! We were in the same climbing club when we were younger - made it right to the top together." You smile, thinking back over the memories. "You know, one time, we both got stuck on this insanely tough route. Everyone else had given up, but not Wonwoo. He was determined to figure it out, and I obviously couldn't let him be the only one to finish, so we stayed there for hours. Eventually, we worked together to figure out the route, and we managed to do it. I swear, he more than anyone else taught me the value of perseverence, even if it was out of spite."

Mingyu listens intently, his expression softening as he watches the nostalgia play across your face. “Sounds like you’ve been through a lot together."

“Yeah, we have,” you reply, meeting his gaze. “He’s like a brother to me. We’ve always had each other’s backs, no matter what.”

Mingyu nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That’s really cool. It’s good to have someone to bring you back to earth."

"-to the starting positions! The team that performs best across all challenges will be crowned the champions. But remember, this is also about raising awanress and funds, to keep the energy high and the spirits up!"

“Ready?” Mingyu’s voice breaks through the announcement, and you look up to see him watching you, a question in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

The whistle blows, and the first leg of the relay begins. Mingyu takes off like a shot, his powerful strides eating up the ground as he navigates the winding course with ease. You watch him, your heart in your throat, feeling that familiar pressure being assauged by pride.

When it gets to your turn, you sprint up to the balance beam, forcing yourself to block out the noise of the crowd and focus solely on the task ahead. The beam is narrow, barely wider than your foot, and it wobbles slightly with every step you took. Every muscle in your body is tense, coiled like a spring, ready to react to the slightest imbalance, but you are in your element.

As you near the end of the beam, the crowd’s cheers grow louder, and you feel a surge of triumph as you leap off, landing smoothly on the other side. No time to celebrate, though—there is still the final climb ahead.

Running over to where Mingyu is waiting at the base of the incline, you begin to hoist the rice sacks over your shoulders, exchanging a determined nod before starting the final ascent. The incline is steep, and with the added weight of the sacks, every step becomes a test of endurance and strength. You focus on your breathing, matching your pace with Mingyu’s, both of you pushing each other to keep going despite the burning in your legs.

As you near the top, you catch sight of another team struggling halfway up the incline. One of their members has slipped, and their sack has tumbled down, spilling some of its contents. The other teammate is desperately trying to help, but it’s clear they’re exhausted and frustrated, their progress slow.

Mingyu notices too, glancing at you with a question in his eyes. “It's your call.” he says, his voice tight with effort.

You hesitate, the competitive part of you screaming to keep going, to push through and secure your victory. But another part of you, a bigger part, tugs at your conscience. You know what you have to do.

“Let’s help them,” you say, making the decision in a heartbeat.

Without waiting for a response, you turn and start making your way back down the incline. Mingyu follows without hesitation, both of you quickly reaching the struggling team. You offer a hand to the fallen teammate, helping them back to their feet, while Mingyu retrieves the spilled sack.

You can hear the live stream commentator yelling frenzily into the mic.

“Here, we’ve got this,” you say, as you and Mingyu steady their loads and start guiding them up the incline. The other team looks at you with a mix of surprise and gratitude, clearly touched by the gesture.

The climb is slower now, and you can feel the weight of the rice sacks digging into your shoulders, but there’s a different kind of satisfaction growing in your chest. When you finally reach the top, you help the other team place their sacks down before doing the same with yours. The other team thanks you breathlessly, clearly overwhelmed by your assistance.

As you all cross the finish line together, you know you’ve lost the race, but the sense of accomplishment in doing the right thing far outweighs the sting of defeat. The crowd’s cheers are louder than ever, and you can see that many of the spectators have noticed what you did.

Trying to regain your composure, you look over at Mingyu who is looking back at you with an affectionate smile.

"We didn't win." He pants, causing you to let out a sharp, breathless laugh.

Stepping closer, you place a steading hand on his arm. He looks up at you from his crouched over position, before moving to straighten up. Whether it is the adrenaline of the climb, or the confidence from your conversation with Wonwoo, you don't move away this time.

"I know," You smile, eyes sparkling. "I still feel like I've won something though."

"Oh, really?" He replies, moving closer still as that infamous grin breaks out across his face.

"Yeah." You nod, closing the gap between the two of you.

"You wanna make a real viral moment?" Mingyu asks, his tone light and jovial but his eyes conveying a sense of seriousness.

"You know what, I would actually quite like to." You respond, pushing onto your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. Although you can hear the screams of the fans and other athletes alike behind you, the sound quickly fades into the background as the immense feeling of passion and joy overtakes you.

HIs hand cups your face, pulling you closer to him as his lips move against yours.

Finally breaking apart, he rests his head against yours, shallow breaths being exchanged between the two of you.

"You know that this is gonna make tabloid headlines tomorrow, right?"

#svt x reader #svt scenarios #svt imagines #seventeen scenarios #mingyu #kim mingyu #seventeen mingyu #mingyu x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu fic

448 notes · View notes

maruflix · 22 days

Text

— ★ OUT OF CONTROL !!

☆ — “YOU’RE STALLING... AND MY PATIENCE IS RUNNING THIN.”

featuring: Yandere!Narumi Gen x f!reader

synopsis: Your captain’s hopeless crush on you is a running gag in the First Division. It’s been fun, but Narumi Gen decides that enough was enough.

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the first division, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, reader is kinda iffy too here, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like kaiju number one

word count: 1,8k

“Why do you hate me?”

You pause mid drinking, lowering the water bottle just enough to catch a glimpse of your captain. “What?”

Narumi Gen stands tensely in the dim light of the training room, his hands crossed in front of his chest. His question is ironic with the way he’s glaring at you so heatedly— like he hates the very idea of you.

“I help you train even if you don’t ask me to,” He frowns, uncrossing his arms, “I ignore your mistakes and transgressions, no matter how bad they are,” his eyes are fixed on you as he takes several steps closer, “I keep you safe during missions, even if it costs me my life,” he’s right in front of you now, leaning down to your height, “I even kept my distance from you so you wouldn’t get uncomfortable, so why?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you move away, cheeks burning. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain Narumi.”

“You don’t?” He repeats mockingly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Very well, let me refresh your memory.”

Air is knocked out of your lungs as he suddenly slams you to the wall, his hands placed on either sides of your head, effectively caging you in the process.

“C-Captain Narumi!” —but Narumi coldly gazes down at you, making your protests die in your throat.

“Tell me, who was it who helped you perfect that kaiju-slaying technique of yours?” His hot breath fans your ears as you gulp, perfectly aware of all the late night practices he’s referring to. Knowing the lazy bum persona he cultivates, training with Captain Narumi is something the other officers can only dream of, yet he tirelessly helps you to grow your abilities until you became one of the strongest officers in the division.

“I’m very grateful, but I don’t see—”

Narumi cuts you off. “Yes, it was me,” He clicks his tongue, making you go silent in shock, “Come to think of it, it’s all thanks to me that you didn’t get in trouble for half the shit you pulled off. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you and your rule-breaking friends? I’m not blind to the things that goes on in my division, officer.”

Alarmed, your eyes snap to meet his as your heart thunders in your ribcage. Which rule-breaking is he referring to? Was it when you and your platoon sneak out for late-night snacks during the three day training camp? Or the secret shortcut you always use when everyone goes for a jog in the mountains? Or was it that one time you saw his bayonet lying around and you tried swinging it around for a few times?

His chuckle breaks your train of thoughts. “Yes, I know everything you did. My office is equipped with a CCTV, you know.” Fuck, so he definitely knows about the weapon thing.

You inhale sharply, ready to beg him for forgiveness, but Narumi isn’t done. “Oh, and remind me who was it that swooped in to save you before you get devoured by a honju?” His face is now so close to yours, you can see yourself reflected in his crimson eyes.

You turn your head away, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t hate you.” Why is he doing this? He has always been so gentle with you, a lovestruck cutie who stutters in the mere presence of you, not this overbearing presence that strips you of your ability to breathe.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

The slight crack in his voice makes your heart jump as your gaze scrambles back to him— but although he has a pained expression on his face, there’s no mistaking the victorious glint in his eyes.

“You know it, don’t you?” Narumi speaks again, lips stretching to form a boyish grin, “You know about my feelings for you... and instead of giving me a proper answer, you capitalized off of it.”

This is the first time he’s called you out on your actions.

You reach up cautiously, fingers tracing his jaw, “You know you’re the closest person to me, Captain Narumi. I owe everything to you, you know that.”

He exhales, leaning into your touch like a cat. Your raging heartbeat relaxes. There we go. Just calm down and stop talking.

Just when you thought you’ve succeeded in taming the lion, Narumi grabs your hand as his eyes dart upwards, his smile morphing into a cruel smirk. “You’re stalling... and my patience is running thin.”

He flips you, causing you to let out a yelp. Back pressed against his hard chest, you struggle to break free as he holds you by your arms. His hand is already slipping up your thigh and he leans down to plant kisses on your neck.

“W-wait, ah-” You glance, meeting the grey-haired man’s crazed gaze. Narumi’s eyes glow dangerously in the dark room, a piercing crimson that sends shivers down your spine. You know you’ve been playing with fire all along, but you never thought that the consequences would come so quickly.

“You know, I’ve really tried to be patient with you,” Narumi sighs, like he’s chiding a child, “but before I knew it, my affection for you has become a running gag in my own division. I don’t take such humiliation lightly, my love.” His whisper sends a delicious tingle down your neck to your spine, “Give me an answer, now.”

For a while, silence fills the room.

“Before I give you a response, shouldn’t you tell me what you did first?”

Narumi tenses up. There’s something different in the way you look at him now. His grip loosens slightly but it’s enough for you to yank yourself away.

You take a few steps away as he watches you like a hawk. “What happened... to him?”

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.”

Oh, but he does. You know he does because he refuses to meet your eye.

“It feels just like yesterday that I gained a new sparring partner, and suddenly he’s transferred to the second division without prior notice? I wonder what happened.”

Narumi squirms.

“Kobayashi. Yamada. Inoue— and recently, Yoshida. What happened to them? What’s with all the sudden transfers? Did the other divisions really need more personnel? Or,” Ignoring Narumi’s burning gaze, you uncurl the fingers that are previously tapping on your chin to point at him, “did you have something to do with that, Captain Narumi?”

He looks at you and you realize that you’ve hit him right on the mark. The last disguise he holds on to for dear life has been ripped to shreds with your accusation.

So you knew — of course you knew — or has he intended for you to find out all along?

“Congratulations, you caught me.” Clapping his hand mirthlessly, he stalks towards you, a pleased smirk on his face. “It’s so tiring to pretend to be a good guy. What do they say— ah, nice guys finish last. I guess there’s some truth to that, because I’ve been nothing but kind to you and all I get in return is being toyed with.”

The moon is high on the sky now, casting a dark shadow over Narumi’s face. You barely have the chance to react before he pulls you into a crushing embrace.

“I no longer have the patience for this. Tell me you love me,” his voice comes out barely a whisper, “hurry up, don’t make me lose my cool.” The desperation in his urging makes you feel like your breath has been seized from you.

Of course you liked him. Who were you kidding? Strong, handsome, and rich, Narumi Gen has it all— and being the your captain’s object of affection is fucking flattering. Everyone else goes to desperate lengths to get Narumi to even spare them a glance, but he stares at you all day like you hung all the stars in his sky.

You like him so much, that’s why you’re afraid. Afraid that you’re just a shiny new plaything that has just caught his eye. Afraid that he will lose interest in you once you reciprocate his feelings. Afraid that you will go back to superior and subordinate once the spark is gone.

You shouldn’t have been so anxious.

“What else should I do?” Narumi holds onto you, desperately clinging to the last shred of his sanity. “What more do you ask of me? I will give it to you, just tell me. Tell me what I should do so you’ll look at me.”

“I love you.”

Narumi’s heart lurches— it’s like the sky has been ripped asunder. His hands tremble as he moves back to hold your shoulders, searching for any signs of falsehood in your eyes.

Your smile pierces through his heart and he wonders why you’re looking at him with those clear, loving eyes.

“What..?”

“I love you, Narumi. I’m sorry it took me so long to say it. I wanted to be sure of your feelings before I—”

His lips crashes into yours, making you stumble backwards. He’s there to steady you by the waist, his hand snaking up your shirt and making its way up your back, leaving sparks of electricity from where he touched you.

Then he pulls away, his hand cupping your face gently as if you’ll break under the slightest pressure. For a moment he’s back to the gentle, shy Narumi Gen who treats you like a goddess, but you can see the obsession in his eyes that has become impossible to mask.

Hasegawa’s warning rings in your ear: Narumi Gen is an obsessive and possessive man who hides his resolve under a flippant persona. You recall the worried look in his face as he asks you to tell him if Narumi ever oversteps his boundaries with you.

Well, Narumi certainly did— but that’s just the way you like it.

You tug on his hair, jerking him closer to you and inviting him to kiss you again. He groans involuntarily, ashamed that you’re able to play with him so easily. Moving closer, he stops just before your lips meet, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. “Do you know what this means?”

Narumi wants to cry at the innocent look you throw his way. Now that he’s gotten a taste of you, he knows he can’t let go. He’s fallen too far into the abyss with no hope of clawing himself back out.

“Oh, what have you gotten yourself into?” He muses, lifting your chin up before trailing a finger down your neck— but all you do is lean into his touch, shivering in anticipation.

Your shy, impish smile does little to hide the excitement in your eyes as your eyelashes flutter up at him, tempting him to continue. “What? Do tell me, captain.”

The purr in your voice sends salacious shivers down his spine. In an instant, Narumi comes to a realization— all this time, the one holding the chains has always been you.

art by suou2280 on twitter

taglist: @bgyuus, @plsmarrymehioriyo, @o-sachi, @iamjellyfish, @vashyuu

end notes: have you ever had an idea so chronic and brain-rotting, it haunts you even in your dreams? well, this is one of mine😭

#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #kn8 narumi #narumi gen #gen narumi #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen x reader #narumi x reader #gen x reader #⟢ : maru’s writing !! ࿔*:･

503 notes · View notes

missqhughes · 1 month

Text

GET COMFORTABLE | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: underage drinking, making out, sexual themes, use of y/n, lowercase intended, hints to smut

-> IN WHICH: drunk words are sober thoughts; when y/n gets just a bit too drunk at a date party, she finds herself getting more comfortable with her best friend than she thought she ever would.

-> thank you for all the love for my previous post GUYSSSS UGH 🤗 so this idea popped into my head like right after posting that so i was toooo ready to get into it. as always, hope you love it as much as i do!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

shot number, what, 9 maybe?

whatever it was, y/n definitely lost count. all the alcohol she was consuming was beginning to taste like water, and the buzz was pulsating through her veins.

talking amongst her friends girls, y/n spots luke chatting in his own group. she slips past her friends, and taps him on the back of the shoulder.

“luke! where have you been? i’ve been looking for you!” she giggles, unable to get the sentence out fully coherent,

luke turns around, and immediately his lips curl into a smile at the sight of his giddy, drunk best friend.

“i’ve been here the whole time silly, you’re the one who keeps running off for another shot,”

his words are husky, his voice being raspy from having to shout through the night at the crowded voice filled house.

“another shot? me too! c’mon,” y/n practically ignored his whole sentence, only really hearing the words “another” and “shot”. she took his hand in hers, guiding him through the sea of other drunk college kids, eventually landing at a nearly empty bottle of smirnoff occupying a table.

y/n’s concentration is purely filling up the cups for the two of them, but luke’s is elsewhere. he can’t help but notice how suddenly short her dress looks, hugging her curves, and her messy hair and make up is giving him gateway to thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be thinking about her.

he snaps out of his trance when y/n’s voice sounds through his ears,

“ready?” she looks over, handing the bright red solo cup to him with a smile on her face.

“yeah, let’s do it,” he says, taking the cup from her hands and tapping it with her own before downing the burning liquid into his throat.

y/n makes a face for a split second, before shaking it out and turning to luke, “can i be so honest,” she starts, leaning her head on his body, his suit jacket nowhere to be found and the buttons on his shirt slightly undone.

“what’s up?”

“i’m really, really drunk,” she laughs into his chest, “i definitely need some fresh air, can we go outside?” y/n turns her head to gaze up at luke, eyes slightly low and sultry with intoxication.

he tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear, “of course we can, lead the way”

y/n spins to grab is hand yet again pushing past the sea around them, until they meet the door of the house, pushing it open and being met with the cool night air.

“oh my god,” she practically moans out, closing her eyes with luke’s hand still intertwined with hers,

“this feels so good,” she leans back into him again, comfortable in the fresh air but also lukes warmth and scent radiating off his body.

“i know right, and it’s not loud as shit out here too,” he says, wrapping his arms around the girl in front of him.

this wasn’t out of the ordinary, the pair of them had always been affectionate with one another, they are best friends after all.

y/n’s phone buzzed in her hand, looking over to see who it was. her roommate was asking when she was going to be ready to be picked up, expressing her eagerness to go to bed.

“shit, it’s one of my roommates,” she said, opening her phone to type a definitely indecipherable text to her roommate.

“tell her you’ll be home soon, and that she doesn’t have to wait up,” luke said, watching y/n’s words jumble in her drafted text.

“i can’t, she’s picking me up,”

“i can take you home,” he suggests, she looks up at him with a new brightness in her eyes.

“ugh can you? i feel bad asking her to come to get me… wait aren’t you drunk?” her mind flips, she didn’t recall luke having any other drinks besides the one shot they took together, so she really had no clue.

“a little, but we can sit in my car while i sober up. you got a key to the apartment?”

y/n nodded her head, “there’s a key under the mat,”

“perfect, cmon, my car is just up the street” luke reached her hand out for her once more, knowing that y/n would most definitely be stumbling on the pavement trying to walk on her own.

getting to his sleek black bmw, luke opens the door for y/n before making his way to the drivers side.

she had been staring at him the whole time, admiring his appearance in his slightly drunk state. he did a double take only to find that both times she was in fact staring at him, with a small grin creeped on her face.

“luke, have i ever told you how much i appreciate you?” y/n said, leaning her arm on the center console, the other reached up to swirl one of his messy curls in her finger.

he shook his head, matching her happy expression, “you only tell me all the time y/n,” he joked, feeling his heart beat picking up.

“i know, i know. you know what’s crazy though?” she began,

“what?”

“i like, weirdly really want to kiss you right now.”

luke froze at her words, in disbelief of the sentence that just came out,

“y/n… you’re drunk,” he said wearily, almost signaling her to be careful about the things she’s letting slip her tongue.

“sober enough to know that i do really want to,” y/n said, eyes flickering over luke’s face before stopping at his lips.

he let out a shaky exhale, bringing his hand up to cup her face. he was weak to her advances, knowing he always had an attraction to his best friend, y/n feeling the same way it, neither speaking a word about it. but in her drunken state, the filter she had for her feelings was long gone.

“kiss me luke.”

there was no way he couldn’t. he had to give in to how pretty needy she was in this moment.

he put his hand on the back of her head, guiding y/n’s lips to meet his, and securing them in a sweet kiss. she sighed into it with bliss, letting her own hand fall from his curls to his chest.

y/n was cautious, considering luke’s initial reservations about kissing her. he however, was cautious to not let himself get too far, not wanting to push her, but god did he just want her to grind on his lap and kiss him like no tomorrow.

it took not even a minute for them to get into a rhythm, the gentle kissing escalating to a hungry makeout session, a silent share of their feelings towards each other.

y/n practically read his mind, reaching over to the side of the seat to push it back, crawling over to luke’s lap without once letting her lips leave his.

his hands instinctively latched on to her hips, y/n with an almost innocent softness, grinded on him.

luke’s grip on her sides became stronger, slightly bucking his hips up for friction, anything to cure the aching attention the inside of his pants needed.

at the same time, y/n’s mouth was fully exploring his, letting out barely audible moans when his crotch hit just the right spot on her clothed, aching pussy.

close to losing himself in the bliss of the moment, luke just barely pulled his lips from hers, panting as his eyes flutter shut.

“i need to take you home, if i don’t now… god… i’m gonna want to fuck you in my back seat,” luke lets his lips part open as his words linger in the now fogged up car.

y/n, who had absolutely no interest in going back to her own place, frowned at him, her hands dancing up to toy with his hair.

“but i don’t want to stop lu,”

the nickname made his stomach flutter,

“i don’t want to either, y/n. but you gotta go home eventually,”

she thought for a moment, he was right. she did need to go back home; sleep, shower, and mentally prepare for the raging hangover she was doomed to have the next morning.

she sighed in defeat, finding her way back to the passenger side, lingering to be as close to him as she was moments before,

“you’re right lu, but just so you like, know, i would have let you fuck me in your back seat.”

luke’s mind immediately went to the gutter, y/n’s previous grinding turned to a naked image of her bouncing on his dick, moaning his name in delight.

“why don’t you stay over?”

y/n’s head whipped to look at his, a slight surpised look on her face,

“really?”

“i mean yeah, not the first time you’ve stayed the night over there right,” he shrugged, sure she’s slept over and vice versa, but both of them knew the very different circumstance they were in now.

“i’d like that, i’ll text my roommate and tell her i’m at yours for the night.” fastening her seatbelt while she grabbed her phone from the dash, typing out the fastest text luke had seen anyone do.

he let out a dry laugh, turning the car on to make their way to his apartment.

luckily the drive was quick, luke’s hand resting dangerously high on y/n’s thigh, squeezing and rubbing his thumb on her exposed skin.

when he parked his car outside the apartment complex, the two hurriedly gathered their things, not wanting a drop of the night to get wasted. walking up to the door, he clicked the lock open and held it open for y/n to go in first.

luckily, luke’s other roommates were asleep, so there was no need for any kind of small talk. she slipped her shoes off, taking in the comfortable scent of luke’s apartment.

luke slipped off his shoes, not even bothering to put them away properly. he made his way towards y/n backing her into the wall behind.

“you want water pretty?” he whispered, careful to not be loud, “or something to eat? i can heat something up for-”

“cut the bullshit luke, let’s go to your room yeah?” she said, taking her bottom lip between her teeth, and grabbing the belt he was wearing, fiddling with the buckle.

his mouth moved into a devilish smile, “mhm, but remember you gotta be quiet,”

“no promises.”

luke reached to grab the back of her thighs, pulling her up to hang her legs around his waist, littering neck kisses all over in their hot pursuit for his bedroom.

pt. 2

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

#luke hughes #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes fanfic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes smut #lh43 #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl

449 notes · View notes

hoe-for-hopper · 7 months

Text

A Crush On Eddie

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part 2 is HERE

WARNINGS: kind of a slow burn, unprotected piv, masturbation (f & m), drinking (reader is drunk, not during sex), vomiting (reader vomits)

Word Count: 4,983 (idk how that happened)

Summary: You've got a crush on Eddie Munson, so you drag your two best friends, Steve and Robin to Corroded Coffin's show. When Steve is too drunk to drive you home, Eddie offers.

A/N: I swear this was supposed to just be a one and done Eddie fic, but oops I got carried away and there's gonna be a part 2 (steddie) sometime in the next few days. Partially unedited, ends on a cliffhanger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~SMUT BELOW THE CUT~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You, Steve, and Robin pull up to the shitty little dive bar that Corroded Coffin is playing tonight. You’re nervous, but you’re not sure why. It’s not like Eddie is even going to notice you. You’re just here to enjoy the show and have a fun night out with your best friends. Besides, you haven’t seen Eddie since you were all in high school and you hardly spoke with him then. He probably doesn’t even remember who you are.

Steve has no clue about your little crush on Eddie Munson. He has no idea that he’s the only reason you dragged them to the Corroded Coffin show. Robin, on the other hand, has been forced to listen to your lust filled rants about Eddie on more than one occasion.

“Alright, I’ll grab the drinks, you guys go find us a good clean spot to watch them.” Steve shook his head as he made his way to the bar at the back of the room.

You and Robin found a small table against the wall to the side of the stage. As you two placed your purses and jackets down you looked up and saw Eddie walking towards the bar and your heart skips a beat. He was cute, more than cute, really.

“Oh God. Why don’t you just go talk to him? It’s not like you two don’t already know each other.” Robin is rolling her eyes as she follows your line of sight to Eddie.

“Because. What would I even say? ‘Hi Eddie, remember how we hardly talked during high school and weren’t even friends? Well, I’ve actually got such a huge crush on you that I dragged my two best friends to your show tonight.’ I mean, come on, Robin.” You let out a heavy sigh and sit down on the stool.

Robin finishes draping her jacket over her chair and sits down, “Well, maybe don’t say that. I was more so thinking of something along the lines of ‘hi.’ You know, something normal.”

“What are we talking about?” Steve says as he sets down the drinks.

You catch Robin’s eye and give your head a subtle shake. “Oh, we were just saying how I think that girl over there at the bar is so cute. Y/N was saying I should go talk to her, but I’m just way too nervous.” Robin winks at you as Steve cranes his neck trying to see what girl she’s talking about.

“I didn’t see a cute girl at the bar.” Steve says.

“Oh she must have left already. Anyway thanks for the drinks, I think they’re about to start soon.” Robin spins around to face the stage while Steve is still scoping out the venue for girls.

As all three of you sip your beers and continue talking, the lights dim and Eddie walks onto the stage. You’ve got butterflies already. Robin turns back to look at you, she’s got a knowing smirk on her face. You roll your eyes and take another swig of your drink.

After the first few songs, you start to loosen up a little bit. Steve has gotten you your second beer and you’re almost ready for your third. You really weren’t planning to drink a lot tonight, but you have been wanting to talk to Eddie and you figured the alcohol would make it a little easier.

The next time Steve goes to the bar, Robin pulls you towards the front of the stage. “Robin, what are you doing?”

“Trying to help you get a closer look at your future boyfriend.” Robin is giggling so hard that a few drops of her beer splash over the rim of the bottle.

“Please.” You’re rolling your eyes again, but you’re definitely enjoying the close up view of Eddie. You rake your eyes over him and you can’t help but linger on the spot right below his belt buckle.

“I see you guys are getting in on the action!” Steve comes up behind you and hands you and Robin another beer. “I’m gonna go hang at our table. I’m trying to get this girl’s number, told her to meet me over there.” He walks off towards your table.

You turn back around to face the stage, and notice Eddie is looking right at you. Eddie Munson is looking at you. Your breath catches in your throat as he looks away towards the other side of the crowd.

Robin nudges you and says “Oh my god! He totally just looked right at you!”

You punch her arm and laugh, but a tingly feeling flows throughout your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After Corroded Coffin’s set, you and Robin head back to your table to find Steve deep in conversation with a girl that Robin apparently knows.

“Well, I’ve got to run to the bathroom, I’ll be right back you guys.” You head to the bathroom in the back corner of the venue.

You fix your hair in the mirror before walking back outside. As you make your way back to the table, an arm reaches out in front of you to stop you.

“Hey, didn’t we go to high school together?” It’s Eddie. He drops his arm and steps in front of you.

“Wow, you scared me. Uh yeah, we did.” Your voice is a little shaky. You can’t believe Eddie is talking to you. You knew it was probably no big deal. It’s not like he was actually famous or anything. His band played at a few dive bars around town and that was really it.

“I’m glad you came out to the show. Did you have fun? I gotta say, I didn’t think this would be your scene. From what I remember, in high school you were in a different crowd.” He’s smiling down at you.

You look past him to see Robin staring at you with her eyebrows raised. Steve is also staring at you, the girl he was previously talking to had left. You raise your eyebrows back before turning to look up at Eddie. “Yeah, I remembered you had the band in high school and saw you guys were playing tonight. I thought we’d come check you out.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder and you see Robin and Steve quickly glance away. “I see you’re still friends with Steve Harrington.” He says his name with an annoyance in his voice. Eddie and Steve didn’t exactly get along in school and it seems like Eddie hasn’t forgotten that.

You chuckle nervously, “Yep. We’re still friends. So, the show was good. You were really great up there.”

“Thanks. That means a lot. I’m glad you had fun. I’ll let you get back to your friends. Maybe I’ll see you around some other time? We’re playing here again next weekend.”

“Maybe we’ll come watch you guys again.” As you walk back towards Steve and Robin, you try not to overthink too much about your conversation with Eddie.

“Didn’t know you were friends with The Freak.” Steve is saying as you all start gathering your things.

“Oh shut up, Steve. We’re not in high school anymore. Can you at least try to act like an adult?” Robin elbows Steve in his side earning a little “ow” from him.

As you all walk to Steve’s car, you’re telling them about Eddie’s band playing here again next weekend. It takes some convincing from you and Robin, but Steve offers to drive again next weekend.

“Do you like him or something?” Steve is asking you as he drops you and Robin off at your apartment.

You roll your eyes at Steve and say, “No, I just think it would be fun. And maybe next time you’ll have a little more luck getting some numbers.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Steve says before he drives off leaving you and Robin giggling at the door.

You and Robin spend the night overanalyzing the conversation you had with Eddie. Or rather, Robin spends the night listening to you ramble on and theorize your outfit for next weekend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time the next weekend rolls around, you’ve spent countless hours going over how you’re going to talk to Eddie again. You’re still too nervous to approach him first, but you know you can’t leave the show without speaking to him.

You hear Steve honk his horn outside and you make your way out front with Robin trailing behind you. Robin had been helping you get ready and listening to you freak out over what you should say to Eddie tonight.

“You girls ready to go? I hope this time is better than the last time.” Steve puts the car in drive and heads toward the bar.

Robin snorts and says, “Steve, you can’t base the fun you have on how many girls’ numbers you get. There’s more to life than girls.”

“Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

When you arrive at the bar, Steve grabs your drinks again and you and Robin head to the same table as last time. Robin nudges you, “Look who’s over there.” She’s smiling and you follow her gaze to the side of the stage where Eddie stands holding a guitar case and surveying the bar.

When he spots where you and Robin are sitting he walks up to you. “Hi guys. Excited for the show?”

You’re too nervous to speak, luckily Robin chimes in with, “Oh yeah. You guys were great last time.”

Eddie turns to look at you. You notice how handsome he is when his smile stretches all the way to his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun.”

Just then, Steve returns and sets the beers down on the table. “Hey man, how’s it going?”

Eddie just gives him a little nod and says, “I gotta get up there, but I’ll catch you guys after the show.” When he says it, he’s just looking at you. You feel a tingling go through your body. You feel electric and you can almost feel the blush creeping up your face.

Steve stares after Eddie before turning back around to say, “Jeeze. What’s his problem?”

Throughout the show, you catch Eddie’s eyes a few times. Of course, Robin immediately notices and nudges you each time. When it’s Steve’s turn to grab the drinks, Robin is asking you if you’re actually going to make a move on Eddie tonight.

“I have no idea. I mean, I want to, definitely. It’s just, I don’t know, we’re total opposites.” You gulp down the last of your beer. Robin assures you that Eddie would be interested just as Steve reappears with the drinks. You notice he’s swaying a little bit as he sets them down and you’re worried he won’t be able to drive home.

Corroded Coffin finishes their set and starts packing up, but Eddie breaks away and heads straight to your table. You stand up to greet him and that’s when you realize just how drunk you actually are. How many beers had you had? At least four, maybe even five? “Hi Eddie.”

“Hey. Like the show?” He’s still only looking at you and you’re not sure if it’s because he has something against Steve and doesn’t know Robin all that well or because he wants to look only at you.

“Yeah it was really great!” You’re excited and slurring your words.

All four of you talk for a few minutes longer before Eddie excuses himself to help the band finish packing up their equipment.

Eddie is only gone for a few minutes when he returns just as you’re all gathering your things and getting ready to leave. Steve stumbles as he stands and he grabs the table for support. Eddie sees this and says “Hey man, you all right? If you’re not good to drive I can drop you all off.” Eddie offers.

Steves starts to protest saying that you’re all going to different places, but Eddie cuts in with, “Really, it’s no problem. I’ve got the van, you guys can just pile in the back.”

Robin and Steve turn to face you and your eyes are wide. Eddie Munson driving you home after his show? Of course, he’s also driving Robin and Steve home. And it’s because you’re all too drunk to safely get home. It’s nothing exciting. “Yeah, yeah. That would be really great, thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie leads the three of you out to his van. He offers you the front seat which you happily accept and the other two climb in the back.

You can hear Steve and Robin giggling in the backseat. You’re hoping Robin isn’t drunk enough to spill your secret longing for Eddie. You know this is just a little crush and you’ll get over it.

You give Eddie directions to Steve’s then to Robin’s house. Eddie pulls up in front of Robin’s and you get out to walk her to her door. “This is your chance, Y/N. You better go for it.” You whisper at her to shut up as she slips inside.

Not much is said on the way to your apartment, but you’re filled with an electric buzz throughout your body. You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or the fact that you’re sitting next to Eddie.

“Thanks so much for the ride. I really appreciate it.” You say as you start gathering your things. Eddie responds that he’s glad to give you a ride. You’re not looking at him, but it sounds like he’s smirking and you blush at where your mind goes.

You try to get out of the van, but you can’t seem to grasp hold of the door handle without dropping all your things. You laugh as you realize the alcohol is catching up to you.

“Okay, hang on, sweetheart.” Eddie notices you struggling, gets out of the van, and walks around to the passenger side. He opens the door for you to help you out. “Let me walk you in, I’ll carry your things.”

You hand over your things in silence as you process that Eddie just called you sweetheart. You watch as Eddie fiddles with your keys before finding the one to unlock the door. “Ladies first.” He has one hand on your elbow and the other is pushing the door closed behind you.

As he sets your stuff down on the entry table you catch yourself saying, “Do you want to stay? I mean, just have a cup of coffee or something? Unless you’re tired. I know it’s late.”

Eddie says that he would love to, so you head to the kitchen and start preparing a pot of coffee. When you turn back around, you’re hit with an overwhelming sensation in your stomach. You’re going to vomit now. There’s no way you can make it to the bathroom so you lean over the sink and heave.

The next thing you know, Eddie is there behind you. He’s taking out the hair tie that had been holding his long hair in a loose bun and pulls your hair away from your face to tie it back. You’ve never been more embarrassed in your life. You’re vomiting in your kitchen sink in front of Eddie Munson who is currently rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. Through your noises you can hear him saying, “It’s alright. I’ve got you.” Despite your current situation, a rush of heat shoots down to your core.

Eddie helps you to your bed, leaving to grab a glass of water. When he returns, you’ve slipped under the blankets and are almost asleep. “There’s a glass of water on your nightstand. Call me in the morning and I’ll take you to get the car.” He says before turning to leave.

“Wait. You can stay here, it’s late.” You call out to him from your half asleep state.

Eddie stands in the doorway, debating on what to do. Part of him wants to leave to not make things awkward for the both of you in the morning. He’s not sure if you mean he can sleep on your couch or your bed.

As if reading his mind, you tap on the bed and roll over sleepily. He doesn’t need any more insistence and takes his jacket off before tossing it on the ground and crawling into bed next to you. He leans up to look at you and realizing you’ve already fallen asleep, he lays back down. As he does, he catches a glimpse of lacy black underneath your skirt that’s crept up your thighs.

Eddie is completely still on his back next to you. He’s never told you this, but he had a huge crush on you in high school. He was more than surprised when he’d noticed you while he was on stage last weekend. During the entire set, he had been thinking of ways to talk to you before you left. He was a little disappointed when he realized you were friends with Steve and he’d been hoping Steve wasn’t going to talk you out of coming to the next show.

When he’d seen you again tonight, he couldn’t wait to talk to you. He’d been hanging out at the side of the stage, waiting for you to walk in. He spent the entire show trying not to stare at you the whole time. He felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He loved the way your short skirt flowed around your thighs.

Eddie felt you shift, as he looked over he saw that you had kicked off your half of the blanket. With your skirt almost completely up your thighs, he had a perfect view of the lacy black underwear you were wearing. He felt the bulge in his pants grow.

He knew it wasn’t right to stare, but he couldn’t help it. As quietly as he could, he undid his belt buckle and unzipped his jeans. Slowly, he pulled his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock.

As Eddie began stroking himself, he imagined what your hand would feel like wrapped around him. He thought about you staring into his eyes as your hand went up and down. He wondered what you would taste like.

Eddie continued to pump his hand up and down while alternating between staring at your ass and imaging all the things he could do to you. He lifted his shirt just as he spilled onto his stomach. Carefully, he got out of bed and made his way to your bathroom to clean up.

When he returned, he draped the blanket back over you and laid down next to you. He wasn’t sure how he was going to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’d just finished himself off a few inches away from you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, you’re awoken to the sound of a voice coming from your kitchen. It takes you a second to remember that Eddie Munson spent the night.

“Oh, you know what, here she comes now.” Eddie hands you the phone as you walk sleepily into the kitchen. You see he’s already made a pot of coffee and is now cooking breakfast.

You know it’s Robin before you put the phone to your ear, you can already hear her voice. “Y/N, was that who I think it is that answered your phone? Was he there all night? What happened!”

“Yes and yes. I’ll call you later okay?” You hung up before Robin could say anything else. “Hey, thanks for the coffee. You really didn’t have to make breakfast though.”

“After what you did last night, I figured you’d need some energy this morning. Don’t worry about it.”

You’re shaking and it’s not from the alcohol last night. You’re still trying to piece together what happened. After what I did? What did I do? And then it all comes rushing back to you. You vomited in your kitchen sink right in front of Eddie Munson. And then you invited him to bed. And he accepted the offer.

Eddie sets a plate down in front of you and leans against the wall sipping his coffee. “I figure we can pick Steve up, take him to get his car. And then…” He pauses, unsure if he should say what he’s thinking. You raise your eyebrows and he continues, “And then I was thinking later tonight, you might want to grab dinner? With me, of course.”

You almost choke. Is Eddie asking you out on a date or are you reading way too much into things? “Yeah, yeah sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Eddie drops you back off at your apartment after taking Steve to pick up his car. As soon as you’re through the door, you’re calling Robin. “Robin, oh my god.” You gave her a recap of exactly what happened the previous night - vomiting included.

“You threw up in your kitchen sink and he still slept in the same bed as you. Wow.” Robin is laughing hysterically. “Steve, did you hear that? She threw up!”

“STEVE is there? Oh god, Robin I don’t want more people knowing about this. It’s embarrassing enough that I have to know.” You groan and slide down the kitchen wall to the tile.

Steve has grabbed the phone from Robin. “Are you dating Eddie now? Because if that freak can get a date easier than I can, I swear…”

“Shut up. No, we’re not dating. Nothing even happened. Sure, we slept in the same bed, but that’s it. Okay?” Even as you’re saying it, you still can’t believe it happened. You tell Steve and Robin bye before you hang up and start getting ready for your date with Eddie.

As you’re in the shower, you think of all the things that could have happened had you not passed out. Your hand slips down to your folds as you slide your fingers around in small circles. You’re imagining it’s Eddie’s hands touching you. As you climax, you’re imagining Eddie’s fingers pumping in and out of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’re just finishing getting dressed as you hear a knock on your door. “Come in! I’ll just be a minute!” After trying on almost everything you own and calling Robin countless times for advice, you’d settled on a short flowy black dress.

When you emerge from your room, Eddie is sitting on the couch. As he looks up at you his eyes go wide and all of a sudden you feel self conscious. You look down at yourself and smooth your hands down your dress. “You look…incredible.” Eddie finally manages to choke out.

You smile at him and he almost melts. He rakes his eyes over you and without meaning to actually do it, he licks his lips. “You ready to go?” He stands up and grabs your hand, leading out to his van.

You feel an electric buzz that flows throughout your body, centered on where your hands meet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You can hardly remember dinner as Eddie opens the passenger door to his van, helping you inside. You spent the entire time trying to think of ways to invite Eddie back to your apartment after dinner. You also spent quite a bit of time staring at his hands and imagining what they could do to you. So by the time you’re settled inside the van, your core is already pulsing with need.

When Eddie arrives at your apartment, you’re surprised when he gets out of the van to follow you inside. “I thought we could hang for a little longer? I’ve been really enjoying talking to you.” He says shyly as you set your things down.

The two of you sit on the couch and continue the conversation you’d been having about Steve. “He’s really not so bad once you get to know him, I promise.” You’d been trying to convince Eddie that Steve was actually a great friend.

“Well, I’ll believe that when I see it.” Eddie shrugs his shoulders.

Neither of you have mentioned the previous night. You know it’s probably not a big deal, nothing happened and Eddie was just taking care of you after you’d drank too much.

“Want a beer?” Eddie nods his head ‘yes’ so you head to the kitchen to grab two beers from the fridge.

When you return to the living room and hand Eddie the beer, your hands brush and neither of you pull away. When you sit down next to him, Eddie leans forward to set his beer on the coffee table. He turns to look at you, “You know, you really do look incredible. Thanks for going out with me tonight.”

You can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as you set your beer down next to his. “T-thank you. You look pretty handsome too.” And he does. He’s wearing dark jeans, black shirt, and a dark leather jacket. You can’t help but think what he looks like under his clothes. As you look him up and down, your eyes stop on his lap. You can see a bulge, a very big bulge, under his jeans.

Eddie sees you notice and lets out a little chuckle. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach towards him and run your hand from his temple to his cheek.

Eddie stills, shocked. After a second, he grabs your waist and pulls you on top of him. Foreheads touching, you stare into each other’s eyes for just a split second before your lips meet.

Eddie’s hands are roaming up your back now, your hands tangled in his hair. “Fuck. I’ve been wanting to do this since I saw you at the bar.” He says into your mouth.

“Mm. Me too.” You breathe just as he rolls his hips hitting your sensitive bud and you let out a moan.

This is better than he imagined in your bed last night while he pumped himself. “I touched myself last night thinking about this. I was thinking about all the things I want to do to you.” He licks a stripe up the side of your face.

His words and the friction make you moan into his ear. You tell him how you fingered yourself in the shower, imagining his fingers inside you.

Eddie swears he could cum just from hearing you talk. He scoots you back so he can pull his jeans down before grabbing your hips and rolling them across his cock. Eddie lifts up your dress and pulls your panties to the side. “Is this what you want?” He asks as his finger brushes your clit.

“Mhm. Yes, please, Eddie.” Your hands are pulling his hair and you place kisses down his face before sucking a mark on his neck.

Eddie lifts you up so he can swipe himself through your folds before lining himself up with your entrance and sliding you down. You gasp as you take the full length of him before tugging his hair even harder.

He gives you a few seconds to adjust to his size before bucking up into you. You can’t hold in the moans that escape from your mouth and your entire body is trembling. You’ve never felt so full. You weren’t a virgin, but it felt like Eddie was stretching your walls as far as they could go.

“Yeah? Is this what you thought about in the shower?” You can’t speak so you just nod your head ‘yes’. “Use your words, baby. I want to hear you.”

“Y-yes, this is b-better than what I imagined.” Eddie moved his hands from your hips to pull you to his chest. He cradled your head with one hand with his other resting on your lower back.

Kissing your head he murmured praises into your ear. “You’re doing so good.”

“Eddie.”

Still inside you, he lifts you up and carries you to your bedroom. Placing you down on the edge of the bed and kneeling between your legs, he continues to pump in and out of you. Pulling your dress up he groped at you while using one hand to pull your legs to his neck. “Oh, you’re so wet for me, baby. Gonna cum soon?”

You can’t form words, you moan in response. But remembering what Eddie said earlier you manage, “Gonna cum.”

“Cum on me, baby.” he moves the hand from your tits to circle your clit. In seconds, you’re gushing around him. “That’s it, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”

Incoherent words and moans fall from your mouth as Eddie fucks you through your high. His thrusts become erratic and he’s moved to holding both your legs up against his chest. He’s gripping your calves so tightly, you know you’ll have bruises.

“Where do you want me, sweetheart?”

Shakily, you whisper, “Inside me. Please.”

“All mine.” Eddie pulls you towards him as he thrusts and releases himself deeply inside of you. “Fuck.” He whispers as he lets your legs down and helps you into the bed. His jeans still around his ankles, he takes them off before climbing in beside you.

You turn to face Eddie, your eyes glazed over, “I guess our date went well.” He laughs and pulls you in tighter.

Eddie is tracing shapes along your back, “We’re playing at the bar in a few days. What do you say if you come as my girlfriend this time?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” You nuzzle your head into his chest.

Just as the two of you are drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, there’s a knock at the door. You both sit up and listen to the person knock again, louder. “Hello? You guys in there?”

You look at Eddie with wide eyes, “It’s Steve.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 is HERE

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you

926 notes · View notes

earlysunshines · 2 months

Text

L word

kim minji x fem!reader

synopsis: minji gets drunk while she’s away and you’re sent a video of her rambling on about how much she misses u

warnings: sappy sweet lovely ; minji a loser FORREAL i will never let this go. ; alcohol! yummmmmyyy ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hello WHATS UP im HOME i have a new cat keychain and milk blush HOORAY anyways girlfriend of the year goes to

it’s the last day of minji’s stupid volleyball camp – the camp four hours away from you, her beloved girlfriend – and she’s surrounded by her teammates, a few bottles of soju and wine they somehow managed to sneak in, and the growing haze of too much alcohol.

leaning her head against the back of the couch, she tries desperately to keep herself from losing her mind.

what’s pushing her to the edge isn’t just the alcohol—it’s the fact that she made the rookie mistake of glancing at her phone’s wallpaper. there you are, hair up, face bare, looking effortlessly beautiful as you make breakfast in the morning. you’re caught in the middle of a candid moment, gazing at the camera with a confused expression, your hand blurred as you try to grab the phone from her.

(“hey!” you groan, rushing towards her with a spatula in your hand. minji laughs, backing away and pushing your head away with her hand, making you groan again. “delete that!”

“nuh uh.�� minji grins at you, then puts her phone in her pocket. you still look annoyed, but minji finds it the best thing to wake up to. “what’s all this?” she asks, moving her head to to the side to eye the stove.

you blush, turning away and walking back to where the stove is. you check up on the four eggs you’re cooking, then mumble, “i figured since it’s your first time staying over at my place… i’d make you breakfast.”

it doesn’t show, other than the slight tint of pink on minji’s cheeks, but she might lose her mind, maybe even get down on one knee.

“aw, thanks.”)

the image is sweet, simple, and yet, to minji, you look absolutely adorable. it’s enough to make her heart ache with longing, the kind that no amount of soju can drown out.

minji tilts her head back and downs another shot, wincing as the burn slides down her throat. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through her chest. alcohol has never been her strong suit—not like you, who can handle a few drinks without batting an eye. minji’s a lightweight, and by the third shot, she’s already feeling the effects, regretting every dose more than she wants to admit.

around her, her teammates are lost in their own conversations, faces flushed from the alcohol. haewon, the team’s setter, has somehow managed to smuggle in a bottle of wine and is well past her limit, babbling on about some guy she’s been talking to and clinging onto bae defeatedly.

minji tries to focus, to engage in the chatter, but her mind keeps wandering back to you. your image, your smile, the way you look at her—it all tugs at her heart, pulling her deeper into her thoughts, further away from the room full of laughter and slurred words. she checks her phone again after feeling it vibrate against the floor, immediately checking it and catching another glimpse of another photo of you in her lockscreen rotation; this time, she sees you studying in the background, the time covering apart of your head, and a few texts from you.

[y/n]

hey babe i hope you’re having fun! i’m going to sleep, goodnight! miss you xx see you tomorrow lovely

minji stares at her screen, her frown deepening as if the notifications had just announced the end of the world. she knows it’s the alcohol making her overly emotional, but that doesn’t stop her from feeling the weight in her chest. with a frustrated sigh, she lets her phone slip from her fingers, landing with a soft thud on the ground. the sudden movement draws the attention of her teammates, their chatter quieting as they turn to her.

“what’s wrong miss team captain?” ryujin teases, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

minji, usually the composed and level-headed one, surprises everyone when she lets out a dramatic whine and leans her head against danielle, who’s sitting next to her. the room falls silent as minji wraps her arms tighter around her knees, her voice small and filled with longing.

“i miss my girlfriend,” she confesses with a heavy sigh. she picks up her phone again, staring at the lock screen—another candid moment that you look adorable in. “i miss y/n so much.”

her teammates exchange glances, surprised by the rare display of vulnerability from their usually stoic captain, but they can’t help but smile at how deeply minji cares for you. hanni, the libero, is very entertained by this rare sight of minji. she pulls out her phone and snickers, pressing record and holding it up secretly.

danielle lets minji sulk into her, she’s the only sober one in the room and is in the right mind to say anything meaningful in this situation. “do you need water?”

“i need y/n.” minji murmurs, rubbing her face in her hands and making her face even more red. “i miss her…”

“it’s been four days minji…”

“i want to be with her all the time… always.” minji confesses, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that takes everyone by surprise. her hand reaches for another shot glass, but danielle quickly intervenes, her concern clear. yet, minji manages to avoid her and downs the drink anyway, the alcohol burning its way down as she wipes her lips with the back of her hand.

“i–i…” minji stammers, squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. her fingers fumble for her phone, and when she finally grasps it, a soft smile spreads across her face. she turns the screen to show her teammates a candid picture of you nestled against her, your peaceful expression illuminated by the dim light from your lamp. you had completely passed out against her that day after studying for one of your more important tests, that was also the moment minji realized she loved you. “my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” she murmurs, flipping the screen back to herself as if savoring the sight. “...y/n.”

danielle can’t help but giggle softly, gently helping minji to her feet. “she’s very sweet, but i think it’s time we get this sweet girl’s girlfriend back to her hotel room. you’ve had enough, minji.”

minji shakes her head, her pout deepening as her eyes glisten with unshed tears. the rest of the team watches in stunned silence, taken aback by the raw, unguarded side of minji they’ve never seen before. they knew she adored you—her eyes always sparkled when she mentioned you, and her demeanor softened in your presence—but this...this was something deeper, something that laid her heart bare for all to see.

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” minji slurs, her words heavy with emotion as she sways slightly on her feet.

“well!” danielle tilts her head, laughing softly at minji's endearing confession. hanni, meanwhile, can’t resist giggling as she records the entire scene, already planning to send it to you later. danielle carefully helps minji to her feet, steadying her as she turns to the team. “i’m going to get her to bed—someone’s turned into a sappy lovebird.”

“no, please keep her here,” ryujin pleads, clearly relishing in her captain’s rare moment of vulnerability. “this is gold.”

but danielle, the only one with a working moral compass, shakes her head, her gaze shifting to minji, whose blinks are becoming slower, her hair a tousled mess, and her cheeks flushed a deep red. minji clings to danielle, her voice barely above a whisper as she mumbles, “i miss her… i wanna see my y/n… i love my y/n, i love her…”

danielle sighs, gently guiding minji toward the door. “come on, let’s get you to bed. you’ll see her soon enough.” minji nods, though she continues to mumble your name like a mantra, earning giggles from her teammates even after she’s dragged out by danielle.

–

minji feels like she’s been hit by a bus when she wakes up. her head is pounding, her hair is tangled and a chunk is in her mouth, and her body is twisted in an awkward position that leaves her neck sore.

she groans, blinking a few times as she rubs her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. blindly, she reaches for her phone on the bedside table, and when her fingers finally graze the cold device, she squints at the screen—nine in the morning. the bus back leaves at ten.

it strikes her with the sharpness of an unexpected breeze. she gasps at the sight of the numbers, shooting up from the bed in a panic. in her rush, she nearly trips over her shoes, cursing under her breath as she fumbles to get herself ready.

her phone ends up on the sink counter as she splashes water over her face, trying to clear the fog in her mind. as the cold water shocks her system awake, another revelation dawns on her—she hasn’t responded to you yet. panic seizes her chest as she reaches for her phone, guilt and worry mixing with the lingering headache.

your texts are still unanswered, and there’s also a text from danielle asking if minji is alright, but you’re her first priority.

minji clicks on your contact, then presses ‘facetime’. water drips down her face and onto her shirt a bit before you pick up.

“hey babe–”

“sorry i didn’t get to respond.” minji apologizes. you can only see the top half of her face looking down on you before she sets up the phone clumsily. you giggle and catch minji smiling at the sound of it. “the team and i we were…” minji can’t exactly remember much from the night before, she can only recall around seven bottles of soju on the ground, plus those two bottles of wine haewon brought. “... up late.”

“right.” you mumble, trying to contain a smile. “i missed you.”

minji almost misses her toothbrush while putting toothpaste on it. she clenches her jaw and looks at you in the camera, trying to conceal just how flustered you make her.

“me too.”

“how much?”

“a lot.” minji says, then starts brushing. it’s almost inaudible, but you manage to make out the small, “more than you missed me.” she mumbles as she brushes her back teeth.

“you’re so cute.” you murmur, then take a picture her in the moment.

minji groans when she sees the notification that you captured her while she’s a mess, minji is not a morning person. she puts her hand up to cover the camera as she continues brushing, but moves it away when she hears you giggling, wanting to see your face scrunch up cutely and your teeth show slightly when you laugh like that.

your girlfriend rolls her eyes, but smiles nonetheless.

–

minji has always been the reserved, playful type. you've seen glimpses of her more intimate side, but she's still shy about fully expressing her emotions. just like you, she's new to romance, and sometimes it shows in the way she kisses you just because, holds your hand with a gentle smile, or whispers compliments that warm your heart.

but underneath that playful exterior, there's a lot she keeps hidden. minji’s good at concealing her deeper feelings, partly because she's shy, and partly because she’s still in disbelief that she managed to win your heart.

truthfully, minji is a mess. she’s head over heels when you kiss her cheek before you two part ways on campus. she’s even worse when you light up immediately at the sight of her outside your lecture room, and really anything you do makes her go batshit insane. but minji’s not going to show that, she doesn’t show any of it, so you’ve only seen her ‘cool, calm, and collected’ side–you think it’s cute, but what’s even cuter is the new side of her you’ve just been exposed to.

another truth is that you woke up to a good morning text from hanni before minji had even stirred. the message instantly made you feel all warm and giggly inside. there was a cheerful "good morning sunshine!" followed by a video and a teasing ":P you’ll love this girly." you clicked on the notification, squinting at the screen as you opened the video hanni sent.

the thumbnail showed minji, her cheeks flushed as she leaned against the couch. when you pressed play, hanni’s laughter echoed from behind the camera as she shakily recorded your girlfriend.

you watched as minji, looking like an adorable, sad puppy, leaned against danielle and started confessing how much she missed you. the sight made your heart swell, a huge smile spreading across your face. minji, with her flushed cheeks and vulnerable expression, showed off her lockscreen to the team, getting even sappier as she proudly displayed your photo.

“my beautiful y/n, my lovely…” you hear her murmur, she turns the screen back to look at it lovingly. “...y/n.”

you couldn’t help but blush and kick your feet in bed, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world. seeing how tipsy she was—four empty shot glasses scattered around her—explained why she was rambling about you, talking about how much she missed you. the whole thing made you giggle, your heart fluttering with affection for your sweet, slightly drunk minji.

what catches you off guard and nearly has you falling off your bed is when you catch minji saying:

“i love y/n so much… she’s the only… girl… ever,” she slurs it out drunkenly, but it’s heartwarming. she says i like a lead in a romance film, and it sounds genuine. then she says it over and over, and even if she’s drunk, drunk words are sober thoughts – that’s what you believe.

minji just said the L word and you weren’t there to witness it in real time. it’s been three months and minji said it first. if you could magically teleport to her in that moment you’d do it in a heartbeat.

–

your girlfriend arrives at your apartment in the afternoon. she knocks at your door and you open it with an eager smile, immediately pulling her in by the wrist and closing the door behind her.

minji giggles before you pull her in for a kiss, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling away to smile.

“missed you silly.”

“missed you more.”

“i bet.” you mumble before pecking her again, then smiling cheekily against her lips. “hey, i wanted to ask about something – also show you something too.”

your arms are still around her neck, and her hands rest above your waist as she looks at you through her adorable black frames. “okay?” she says, tilting her head.

you grab her by the wrist and lead her over to your couch, both of you flop down on it and you lean against her shoulder. she puts her arm around you as you grab your phone, then kisses your head softly while you pull something up.

“hanni sent me something interesting.” you shrug, fighting the smile that’s trying to form on your face. “i wanted to show you.”

“hm, okay.”

you pull up your messages and minji feels herself stiffening looking at the thumbnail of the video hanni had sent. you press play and she realizes it’s a video from the night before, so she stops you, grabbing your phone and turning it off.

“hey!” you groan, reaching over to grab your phone back. “don’t just–”

“whatever she sent, that’s not–”

“just watch the video!” you poke her side and she loosens her grip, which gives you a moment to snatch your phone back. “just–”

minji’s cheeks are crimson, she’s flustered beyond measure. she sighs, crossing her arms now and turning away from you. “that’s not– look, i was drunk out of my mind…”

“okay well i don’t care, i want you to watch it so i can ask you something.”

“y/n, please baby.”

“don’t baby me.” you say with fake annoyance, pressing play again. “watch,” you order, then mumble a small, “you’re really cute.”

minji shifts uncomfortably as she watches the video, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. she cringes at the sight of herself with flushed cheeks, collapsing onto danielle, and the video captures her in a state of drunken vulnerability–it’s mortifying to minji, but you’re enjoying every second of it.

as the footage plays, minji’s cringing even more. she sees herself leaning into danielle, eyes glassy, as she gushes about how much she misses you. her gaze flits to her lockscreen being proudly displayed, her face a deep shade of red. she bites her lip, feeling every bit of her embarrassment as the video continues.

"i– i just... missed you—" she tries to explain before you cut her off.

“shh, shh. we’re not at the best part yet.”

hanni pham i’ll kill you. minji thinks to herself, forcing herself to watch the rest of the video.

minji's face flushes even more at the sound of her own voice confessing her feelings. hanni’s giggles in the background only make the situation worse. minji hears herself repeatedly saying "i love y/n" with a tone of longing, the video ending with hanni's laughter echoing.

“so,” you pull away from her, looking at your thrown off girlfriend in front of you with raised brows. “what did you think.”

“i–” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then looks at you looking at her with an expectant expression and a teasing smile. “--look.”

“you said the L word.”

she furrows her brows. “what?”

“you said it, the L word.”

“oh my god y/n.” minji can’t help but laugh in the moment, purely from disbelief. she sighs, giving you a crooked smile. “is this about me saying… that?”

“saying what?” you push her buttons successfully, watching her bite the inside of her cheek.

“you know what.”

“say it.”

“what?”

“say it to my face.” you purse your lips, then bite the inside of your bottom lip.

minji glances away, her face a mixture of vivid red and palpable anxiety. the embarrassment still colors her cheeks, but now there’s an additional hue of nervousness. it’s not that she’s new to romantic things like this with you—far from it. it’s just that her feelings for you are so profound, so overwhelming, that they’ve left her floundering, struggling to match the intensity of her emotions with her actions. sometimes it feels like her heart and brain work independently, or maybe it’s just her heart doing most of the work, it’s a mess, a beating wreck always.

you’ve managed to make her feel like a mess, an idiot, and utterly smitten, all by existing.

she takes a deep breath, forcing herself to look you squarely in the eye. her cheeks remain flushed, and she fidgets with her fingers, betraying her inner turmoil.

“i love you.”

“who?”

“you, y/n.” minji groans, leaning towards you and sliding her hand above your waist again. she presses your skin lightly with her fingertips, before repeating herself, “i love you y/n.” her voice is low and she looks at you through her eyelashes, now you’re all nervous.

you can’t speak or breathe in the moment, so you opt for leaning in and kissing her, but she pushes you away after one peck, looking at you with raised brows.

“you’re not going to say it back?” minji smirks, her gaze unwavering as she watches you avert your eyes. her expression turns playful yet determined as she gently hooks her finger under your chin, forcing you to meet her gaze once more. her thumb rests lightly on your lower jaw, her fingers pressing gently against your cheeks. “what was all that interrogation for if you’re—”

“i love you.” you confess, breath hitching when she looks at you like that. “i love you minji.”

minji smiles, clearly satisfied. “wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“i hate you.”

“but you love me.”

“yeah, but i hate you.”

“uh huh.” minji chuckles, fingers still holding your face and using that to pull you closer and kiss you.

despite the embarrassment she’s feeling, minji somehow remains more composed than you. she pushes her glasses up to sit on the crown of her head before her lips brush against yours with a tender softness, and she hums as she kisses you again. when she pulls away just enough to speak, her breath mingles with yours as she murmurs against your lips,

“i L word you a lot y/n.” she pecks you again, then says one more time before taking your breath away, “i love you so much you loser.”

#kpop x reader #newjeans fluff #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #kim minji #kim minji x reader #minji x reader #newjeans minji #newjeans imagines

833 notes · View notes

violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 months

Text

Two Can Play That Game.

You’re cheating on Patrick. You’re not proud of it, but it just… happened. Patrick’s cheating on you, too. He never meant for it to happen, but it just… did. Imagine the surprise from both of you when you find out that Art Donaldson is caught up right in the middle.

pairing - art donaldson x patrick zweig x female reader (college era)

warnings - smut. cursing. cheating.

word count - 3.5k

authors note - every dynamic in this film is so fucked up and I love it. i’ve thought about this movie every single day since it came out, so it was about time I put pen to paper… i’m about to write so many fics with these two (and tashi). get ready. yeah.

masterlist. inbox.

It was an accident, the first time it happened. You swear.

Art had turned up at your dorm room one evening, with your tennis racket in one hand and a bottle of rum in the other.

He’d claimed he’d accidentally picked up yours when you were practising your serves together earlier in the afternoon - he’d only realised when he’d got back to shower and change. You’d opened up your bag, and sure enough, there was Art’s racket. Laughing as you handed it back, you invited him in.

“What’s with the booze, Artie?”

“Wanted to drink. Didn’t want to do it alone.”

“Fair enough.”

You couldn’t find any cups, so you took turns swigging from the bottle. Laying across your bed, the two of you talked about everything, from college classes to childhood summers.

It wasn’t unusual for you to hang out. You’ve been good friends since the very first day at Stanford, meeting each other at orientation and deciding to stick together. You found out that you both played tennis, and decided it was an instant connection. Easy.

“Patrick’s coming this weekend. Did he call you?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, handing the bottle back to him. “He wants to watch you beat Carson.”

“He has a lot of faith in me,” he’d laughed, taking a swig.

He gets this glint in his eye, when he’s a little tipsy. It usually signals mischief and carelessness, two things he doesn’t have while sober. It’s charming.

“We both do.”

Shaking his head, he held the bottle out to you.

“You’re good, still? You and Patrick?”

You nod, ignoring the way the rum burned your throat as you swallowed.

“Yeah, we’re good. Miss him, though. He’s not good at calling.”

“I know. He’s always got that phone in his hand, but he’s shit at using it.”

You’d chuckled, taking in the way the lamplight made Art’s hair glow like some sort of halo.

“Hey, Art?”

“Hmm?”

“It isn’t weird for you, is it? Me dating Patrick?”

“I mean, it’s a bit late for this conversation, isn’t it? You’ve been dating for like, nine months or something.”

“Dude, answer the question.”

“Nah, it’s not weird. Was a bit unexpected at first, sure. But you’re good together. Makes sense.”

You nodded, putting the bottle down on your bedside table. You leaned your head sideways, resting it on Art’s shoulder where he lay.

“If it ever gets weird for you… you know, college friend and childhood friend, your two worlds colliding… just let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah, of course.”

You stayed in the comfortable silence, both slightly buzzed and a little warm. Eventually, Art sat up, looking at you seriously.

“If he ever… if, I - I don’t know how to say this without sounding like a dick.”

You sat up to face him, urging him to continue.

“Just say it, Art.”

He took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip.

“If he ever doesn’t treat you right, or tries to fuck you over… just tell me, okay? He’s not exactly known for being a model boyfriend.”

“He’s been good so far, but… thank you. I’m not stupid, Art. I know that boy has a reputation for being a slut.”

Art had laughed, then, all bouncy and unexpected. The sound of it lit you up.

“Understatement of the fucking century.”

You shook your head, but couldn’t quite wipe the grin off your face. You moved your legs to sit cross cross apple sauce as Art did the same, facing each other.

You’re not sure what possessed you, but you reached out gently to move a stray curl from his eyes. He caught your wrist, pressing a careful kiss into the bone. Your breath hitched, at the action and at the feeling of his rough fingertips against your soft skin.

To this day, you still don’t know who moved first. All of a sudden, he was kissing you, or you were kissing him, lips melding together like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle sliding into place. Art tasted like rum and spearmint gum, lips soft from the chapstick you bought him the week before.

His hands cradled your face as yours tangled in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. You’d climbed into his lap, tiny shorts doing nothing to separate the two of you.

You knew it was wrong. Both of you did. But maybe the thrill of it is what turned you on. Shirts thrown onto the floor, bra caught on the lamp, panties shoved into the pocket of Arts athletic shorts. It was a perfect picture of infidelity - and in that moment, you couldn’t have cared less. Neither of you could.

Art had fucked you slow and deep, spurred on by spiced rum and the sugary sweet noises spilling from your mouth. Sweat slicked skin slid together, groans and whines reverberating through the air.

You came three times before Art eventually did, babbling and muttering nonsense into the crook of your neck. All you could make out was the word Patrick.

He’d pulled the duvet over the two of you, falling asleep instantly with limbs intertwined.

Almost as if you hadn’t betrayed someone you both loved.

Almost as if it hadn’t felt inexplicably good to do it.

Almost as if you both knew you’d most likely do it again.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

They didn’t mean for it to happen, that first time. They both swear.

Patrick was crashing in Arts dorm room, both of them planning on hitting up some Stanford frat party. They’d been on the courts all afternoon, smacking balls at each other as hard as they could, keeping the other person on their toes.

Art never laughed with anyone else like he did with Patrick. All day, they’d been giggling like kids, undoubtedly pissing off everyone around them. But this is how they are. They’re the most themselves, when they’re together.

You were supposed to go to the party with them, but you’d knocked on the door last minute and told them that there was a situation with your friend that needed to be dealt with. She’d been broken up with, suddenly and without reason, as most college breakups happen. According to you, she was devastated, a real mess of emotions. You’d vowed to stay in her room that night so she wasn’t alone. Both Art and Patricks hearts had constricted at your kindness. They’d never met anyone like you.

“I’ll come by tomorrow morning and we can still go out, spend the day together. Okay, babe?”

You’d leant up to press a sweet kiss to Patrick’s lips, laughing when he pulled you in to deepen it.

“Okay,” he’d agreed eagerly. “Text us if you need anything, yeah?”

“Will do. Have fun, boys!”

And then you’d left as quickly as you’d arrived, in a cloud of Victoria’s Secret perfume mist and vanilla scented body butter.

“Looks like it’s just you and me tonight, Art.”

The blonde would be lying if he said he minded. He didn’t. He liked you a lot. But he liked Patrick more.

✵

Hours later, they stumbled back into Art’s dorm, drunk and babbling about the events of the night.

“She’s hot, Art. And she likes you. Clearly. How often does that happen?”

Patrick yelped when his best friend shoved him over, hitting the floor with a thump.

“Asshole. I’m not interested in her, like I told you eight thousand times tonight.”

“I just think Mackenzie-”

“Mallory.”

“-Mallory could be could for you. You’re not getting laid in college, Art. Do you know how lame that is?”

“How do you know?”

“Because you’d tell me.”

They looked at each other carefully, neither one daring to break the tense silence. Eventually, Patrick rose from the floor, kicking off his shoes and pulling off his jeans.

“I’m not sleeping on the ground tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’ll kill my back. And I have a match coming up.”

Art rolled his eyes, climbing into bed in his little boxer shorts.

“Where else are you gonna sleep then, huh?”

Patrick grinned, all white toothed and gleaming, before jumping right into bed next to the blonde, pulling the duvet up and over them.

“Right here.”

“You’re the fucking worst, Patrick. You know that right?”

“You love me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Art has never been able to argue with that stupid smirk. He rolled over, trying to put distance between them on the tiny university issued bed, acutely aware of how Patrick’s legs were tangled with his. It was all too intimate. The worst part was that he didn’t mind one bit.

“Missed you,” Patrick mumbled into the dark. “Don’t like that you’re not at home with me all the time now.”

Art half thought he was dreaming. All the sudden vulnerability had his head spinning, dizzy with affection.

“Miss you too,” he’d croaked out, quiet and afraid. “Wish you were here. We could have shared a dorm, played tennis together every day.”

“That sounds fun.”

Patrick was still speaking in hushed tones, as if he was scared he’d spook Art, send him running for the hills. They weren’t usually like this - so tender with each other. It had both of them reeling.

Both of them turned to face the other at the same time, trying to make out shapes of features in the dim light.

“I like the two of you together.”

Patrick knew Art was talking about you without him having to say it explicitly. It had always been like this with them. Easy, unspoken communication. Conversations without words.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Genuinely. I like her.”

A deep breath. Some quiet.

“I know you do.”

More quiet.

And then Patrick was propping himself up on his elbow, leaning over his best friend in the darkness. Art didn’t dare move an inch, unsure of what he wanted to happen next.

They say they don’t know who made the first move. All of a sudden, their lips were pressed together, gentle but insistent. Art could taste the liquor on Patrick’s lips. The history too.

It was more tender than either of them thought it’d be, when they’d dreamt it, imagined it, got themselves off thinking about it. They touched each other with almost careful hands, worried they’d spook the other person and send them sprinting down the hallway. Underwear was thrown across the room, duvet kicked to the end of the bed, pillows strewn across the floor.

They were gasping into each others mouths, sweat dripping down toned backs as their hips moved in tandem. Art silently thanked his lucky stars that his roommate was at his girlfriend’s for the weekend when Patrick groaned lowly into his ear, the sound reverberating through both of them.

One of them gasped I love you when they both came at the same time. Neither of them knows who it was.

It doesn’t matter either way.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

“You’re sure?”

“Very sure, sweetie. He left last night. Been talking all week about how excited he was to see you and Art.”

“Okay. Thanks, Mrs Zweig. Appreciate it.”

“Of course, honey. I want to see you soon, okay? Carve out some time for us in your next break from school. We’d love to have you again.”

“I will. Thanks again. I’ll see you soon, maybe.”

You press the red button on your phone, confused. Going back through your texts, you find the one you’re looking for.

From: Patrick

can’t wait 2 c u on fri. thinking bout u. <3

It’s Thursday. You’re not technically expecting to see your boyfriend until tomorrow. Except, you could have sworn you saw the back of him in the cafeteria earlier, and now he’s not answering his phone. In a panic, you’d called his home landline, where his Mom had picked up and told you he’d left for Stanford last night.

So where the hell is he, and what the hell is he doing?

You decide to go to the one person who should know - Art Donaldson.

Marching down the hallway in your flip flops, you hold Art’s spare dorm key in your hand. You figure that if no one answers, you can just open the door and peek your head in to see if Patrick’s stuff has been dropped off.

Which is exactly what happens when you get there. Your knocking goes unheard, and so you turn the lock and swing the door open, expecting to see two empty beds and the usual mess on the floor.

Instead, you see Art.

And Patrick.

In bed.

Together.

They’re tangled, completely intertwined, momentarily unaware of your presence. When you kick the door shut, they both jump - Art hitting his head on the wall as Patrick almost falls off the mattress.

“Well, well, well.”

They’re both blushing furiously, avoiding your eyes on purpose.

“How long has this little rendezvous been going on, huh?”

You should feel nothing but rage. You should be boiling up inside. You should be outraged. Should, should, should.

Instead, you feel… even. Validated, almost. No one is saying anything, so you continue.

“Art. Fucking. Donaldson,” you laugh. “I did not think you had it in you. Damn.”

Patrick looks completely lost, so you sit yourself down on the edge of the bed where they still lay, toeing off your shoes and making yourself comfortable.

“Patrick, my lovely boyfriend. Let me tell you a story,” you grab his hand in yours, sickly sweet expression painted across your face. “Actually, I can’t be bothered. The bottom line is - Art has been fucking me into the mattress like, once a week. For a while.”

The brunette has the nerve to look shocked, glancing back and forth between you and the blonde next to him as if he’s watching a tennis match.

“You fucking snake,” Patrick jabs, but there’s no malice in it. He sounds… amused. “And you, Miss Goody Two Shoes. You’ve been fucking my best friend while I’m away, and then fucking me when I’m here?”

“Best of both worlds, baby.”

He grins at you, at the absurdity of it all. Art’s too busy blushing so hard he might pass out to process what’s happening.

“And you, you little fruit,” you poke Patrick’s chest, giggling. “You always told me you and blondie were just friends. Bet this has been going on for years, huh?”

“Not years.”

The sound of Arts voice surprises you both, two heads snapping around to face him.

“Months, maybe. Not years.”

“Who was first, Artie? Me or Patrick?”

“Idon’tknowit’salittleblurry.”

“Hmm? What was that?”

“I think he said-”

“Shut the fuck up, Patrick. Let the whore speak.”

They’re both stunned into silence, but they can’t take their eyes off you. They don’t dare.

“I don’t know,” Art chokes out, voice hoarse. “It’s a little blurry.”

You laugh, all maniacal and entertained, and the boys don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“Holy shit. Damn. Was this your master plan all along, Art? Get us both into bed? Live out your bisexual fantasies and hope no one finds out?”

“No.”

“No? It’s what it looks like to me.”

“No, it’s - I just…”

“Cat got your tongue, blondie?”

You surge forward and capture Arts lips in a bruising kiss, licking into his mouth all filthy and debauched. Patrick watches on with his jaw unhinged, blush on his cheeks and tent in his boxers. After a minute, you pull back, cool as ever.

“Well, your tongue still works, Art. So, spit it out. Who. Came. First? Me, or Patrick?”

“Why does it matter?”

His voice has gone all small and tinny and afraid, and you’re not proud to admit how much it turns you on. He’s pathetic, in this moment, and you’re living for it.

“Call it curiosity.”

“You know what that did to the cat, right?”

Patrick’s voice surprises you, considering he’s been a spectator for the duration of the last conversation.

“What’s your game here? You wanna figure out if I cheated first, or if you did?”

“Maybe. Doesn’t matter either way. We both did it.”

“Yeah. We did.”

The three of you sit suspended in time, both of them slightly scared to move out of line or speak out of turn.

“So what now?” Patrick asks eventually. “We gonna sit here all night?”

You think for a moment, looking at both of them carefully. You’re all sat within touching distance on the bed, so close but so far.

“Show me.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you two to show me how you touch each other when I’m not here.”

Art’s eyes go wide as Patrick’s lips curl into a lazy smirk.

“Yeah, babe?” your boyfriend asks, clearly unphased by the request.

“Show me what you do when you think you’re being slick behind my back. I want to see.”

When the blonde doesn’t move, his best friend pinches his thigh.

“You heard the lady, Art. She wants a show, so we’ll give her a show.”

You scoot backwards so you’re perched right at the end of the bed, giving them their space. Patrick sinks to his knees on the floor, pulling Art’s hips to the edge of the mattress as he goes. You realise, suddenly, that both boys are completely naked while you’re still fully clothed. That thought gets you hot under the collar, the power dynamic going to your head.

You watch as Patrick kisses up Art’s thighs with practised precision, nipping and biting at the spots that make him squirm. You chuckle, realising that both you and Patrick have learnt the same things about Art’s body and the way he reacts. He seems to have the same realisation, looking up through dark lashes to smirk at you.

Art is none the wiser, lost in the way Patrick’s tongue feels swiping across his toned muscle. He’s rock hard and leaking, begging to be touched in any way he can get. You squirm in your place, determined to stand your ground and make your point but desperate to relieve the ache between your legs.

Patrick takes Art in his hand, squeezing gently as he rubs his thumb over his tip. He writhes into him, whining like a puppy eager for attention. He’s panting, chest heaving as if he’s just finished a tennis match.

“Tease him but don’t kill him, Rick.”

“Fine, fine.”

Your boyfriend takes his best friend in his mouth suddenly, taking both of you by surprise. You watch as he sucks him within an inch of his life, all messy and wet and utterly debauched. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been this turned on.

There’s no handbook as to what you’re supposed to feel, watching your boyfriend suck the dick of his best friend. There’s a thought in the back of your mind that maybe you should feel shame, or embarrassment, or rage. Instead, all you feel is excitement. It’s fun, getting to peek into their dynamic behind closed doors, a show that usually has no audience. You feel… special, almost.

Art is wriggling on the edge of the bed, hips jerking upwards involuntarily, making Patrick gag. The sound of it is so erotic, you worry for a moment that you’ll pass out. You’re lightheaded, dizzy with it all.

“You look so pretty, Art. So pathetic, but so pretty.”

They both groan in unison, Art’s head dropping back in bliss. His stomach contracts as Patrick hollows his cheeks, and you can tell he’s getting closer and closer with every swipe of his best friend’s tongue.

You lean forward, running the back of your knuckle over Patrick’s cheek where it’s stuffed full. He makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a whine, and you laugh cruelly. Art’s hand tightens in the sheets, so you tangle your fingers into your boyfriend’s hair and yank as hard as you can.

“What the fuck, babe?”

“No, please. So close.”

You chuckle, running your thumb over Art’s bottom lip.

“Whores don’t get to come, Art.”

He goes to protest, but you cut him off sharply.

“Keep whinging and you won’t come for a week.”

They both shut up, silence swirling through the air. You take Arts place, moving him over so you can sit on the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs, you look down at your boyfriend where he’s still kneeling all pretty.

“Now’s time for your redemption, Patrick. Get to work.”

He slips your shorts and panties down to your ankles, pulling them off and throwing them onto the floor.

“Don’t worry,” you whisper into Art’s jaw, sucking a bruise there. “You’ll get your shot at redemption, too.”

They’re looking at you like guard dogs, ready to comply to any demand.

“You underestimated me, boys. I mean, what did you think was going to happen?”

Nothing can be heard except for the two of them taking desperate, heaving breaths.

“Two can play that game. Or, three, in our case.”

@nymphetkoo @diorrfairy @bobo-bush @amorisxx @imawhoreforu @luiise @raekensluver @ever1ongg @melancholicmelanin @munson-blurbs as promised <3

624 notes · View notes