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sailorsoons · 2 days ago

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Blood & Popcorn (l.c)

Pairing: Lee Chan x f. Reader

Summary: Fridays are reserved for watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and stuffing your face with popcorn and pizza. It’s been like that for you and Chan since your freshman year of college. But when he skips your Blood and Popcorn night for a date, things take an unexpected turn.

Word Count: 11,315

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Angst, Fluff

Type: Smut

Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

Warnings: Literally so much misunderstanding and repressed feelings, pining, light themes of jealousy, recreational drinking, recreational weed use, bad communication skills, some mild insecurities, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (do not do this lmaooo), nipple stim, light teasing, oral (f. receiving), clumsy/playful sex, jokes/banter while fucking. They’re both down horrendous. Joshua as an almost love interest. Jeonghan is both terrible and great at advice.Alternating POVs and some time skips.

A/N: This was originally posted on my old blog, and is being reposted to celebrate Valentine's Day! Enjoy Chan and Bambi the way god intended.

A/N 2: Thank you to @daechwitatamic who beta read this and who this was dedicated to!

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“So why not Blood and Pizza if pizza is always involved but popcorn isn’t?” Mingyu eyes the french fries on your plate. You give him a warning glance, pointing the sharp tines of your fork at him. He retreats, leaning against the cracked vinyl of the booth, pouting. “Also, the title sounds gross.”

“Good thing it has nothing to do with you then.”

“Wow, you’re not even going to invite me?”

“No,” you chirp, popping a shoestring fry into your mouth. You savor the saltiness, humming delightedly. “It’s for me and Chan. Not me, Chan and you. Plus, you know nothing about Buffy.”

“Isn’t that a magic dragon? And are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

The look you send Mingyu makes him hold up his hands in surrender. It isn’t the first time someone has asked if you and Chan are dating, and you know it won’t be the last. You don’t want to start down that avenue tonight, trying to navigate the questions of why and well you seem to be a good match.

If romantic relationships were started over simply having things in common and matching a vibe, you and Chan would have started dating a long time ago. But you’re not, and you’ve already gotten over the fact that you’re not dating and that you will not start dating.

Mostly.

The bell rings above the diner door, drawing your attention. Like he’s been manifested by Mingyu’s dangerous question, Chan spots you and lifts a hand, a smile splitting his face as he heads over. You scoot over in the booth, dragging your plate along with you to make room for him.

Chan is dressed in jeans and a green sweater, your favorite color on him. He sits down next to you, cushioned seat dipping a little as he leans over to kiss the top of your head and steal fries off of your plate. You let him, feeling heat flush up the side of your neck as you look anywhere but Mingyu’s accusatory stare.

“These are so good,” Chan says around a mouthful of fries. “Thanks, Bambi.”

You grin at the nickname, trying not to flush too hard.

“I wouldn’t know,” Mingyu says pointedly. You ignore him, shoving your burger in your mouth. “Apparently I’m not allowed fries or to attend your movie night.”

“Order your own fries,” Chan says.

“Ugh. I already ate mine.”

“So order more, idiot. And of course you’re not invited to Blood and Popcorn. That’s our thing.”

Our thing.

The corner of your mouth twitches as you glance at Chan. He doesn’t notice, catching the eyes of the server and waving happily, giving her a broad smile. She gives him a thumbs up in return, confirming she’ll put in his usual now that he’s there.

There are a lot of things that belong to you and Chan. Studying at the very diner you were sitting in during freshman year had been one of them, though now in your final year there’s not as much of a need to study and you’ve incorporated other friends in your late night trips for grease and calories.

You also shared trivia nights on Tuesdays with Vernon and Seungkwan, football Sundays with Seungcheol, Mingyu and Jeonghan, once a month family dinners with everyone, and most importantly, Blood and Popcorn.

Chan steals another fry off of your plate and you let him, leaning back in the booth. Mingyu glares daggers at you, dark eyes flicking from your plate, to you, to Chan. You grin around a mouthful of cheeseburger and he scoffs before looking away.

Behind you, Chan’s arm stretches across the back of the booth, just barely brushing against the top of your shoulders. Your stomach flips a little, momentarily elated at the contact before you swallow it down with Sprite, pretending it wasn’t there in the first place.

The two boys immediately fall into a conversation about their shared engineering class. You tune it out easily, a learned habit over the last four years of having to listen to Chan tell you the functions of a bridge and the best way to design one. Instead, you focus on the rise and fall of Chan’s soft voice and the way it lulls you into a state of calm.

When the server brings over his order, he pulls his arm from over the back of the seat. Immediately you snatch one of the onion rings from his basket, popping one into your mouth and hissing as the crispy snack burns you. He shakes his head, laughing as he gives you a napkin while you sputter.

“Careful, Bambi,” he murmurs. “They’re literally steaming.”

Mingyu reaches for an onion ring, only to be threatened with the blunt end of Chan’s steak knife. “Don’t even think about it.”

“But she-”

“Bambi has special privileges,” Chan quips. “Order yourself some more fries for the love of God. I’ll pay for them.”

Mingyu immediately stops whining, mood improving markedly as he orders fries, wiggling in his seat happily. Chan cuts his burger in half, asking, “Why were you talking about Blood and Popcorn anyway?”

“Shua asked Bambi out on a date,” Mingyu answers around a mouthful of fries. “She told him she couldn’t go because of Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan stops eating and looks at you, brows creasing. You feel your heart rate speed up as you kick Mingyu under the table. He yelps, knee jerking upward to slam against the underside of the table. The salt and pepper shakers rattle in place as Mingyu bends over to rub his shin.

“He didn’t ask me out on a date.”

“He asked you to dinner!”

“As friends!”

“Oh yeah,” Mingyu snorts, rolling his eyes. “Friends take friends to fucking prime steakhouses. He asked you out on a date.”

For a moment, silence envelops the table. You stare at your fries, watching Chan out of your periphery. He looks away from you, wiping the grease from his fingers onto the napkin. The air feels pregnant with tension suddenly, your anxiety bubbling as you open your mouth to assert once more it wasn’t a date.

Chan beats you to breaking the silence, “We can skip this Friday so you can go!”

You open and close your mouth a few times, heart dropping to your ass. “What?”

“It’s totally fine if we have to skip. I don’t mind.”

Chan picks his burger back up, not looking at you. Heart pounding in your chest, you can’t help but watch him in total silence, trying to string together a response. Sure, maybe Chan doesn’t mind if you miss your weekly solo hangout. But you care.

The ache of the implication cuts you suddenly, a delayed reaction. You feel your throat tighten painfully, reaching for your Sprite to try and swallow past the sudden tension. It does nothing to quell the way the casual dismissal of your tradition keeps cutting you long after he’s said the words, sawing down to the bone.

“I wasn’t aware that we could just skip Blood and Popcorn, I guess.”

“I mean if you’ve got a date.”

That’s not the point, you want to scream at him.

Chan is a lot of things. Perceptive isn’t one of them. If he had been, you know he would have sniffed out your feelings for him a long time ago. Luckily for you, he’s remained completely oblivious over the last four years of your friendship, and you like to keep it that way. Keep it safe.

Nothing ruins a friendship more than unrequited romance. You know that from more than just the media you consume - you’ve seen more than once first hand when one friend catches feelings for the others but the desire isn’t mutual.

It isn’t mutual here. It’s always been very clear where Chan’s interests lie, and you’re totally fine with that. You accept the relationship that you have happily and quietly, and thought moments like are a brutal reminder of where you stand, it’s alright because you also love your friendship. More than you love him - at least, you think so.

So when Chan so easily suggests to go on a date, to cancel your thing with him to accommodate, you know it isn’t because he doesn’t care. He just thinks that you should go on a date because it doesn’t occur to him that the real reason you don’t want to is because your interests are somewhere else. That you don’t want to cancel Blood and Popcorn because it’s for the two of you and no one else.

“Yeah,” you rasp, unsure what else to say. “Um, maybe.”

“Shua is a good guy.”

“Yeah. Yeah he is.”

Mingyu and Chan go back to their conversation about class. You finish your meal in silence, leaning back against the seat as your thoughts wander listlessly. You gaze around the diner, drinking in detail as their conversation becomes background noise and you can no longer understand what they’re saying.

Rounders Diner had been a staple in the college community long before you were born, and continues to be the center for academic life. Students fill the booths sipping on milkshakes as they cram for exams or homework, night shift workers sit at the countertop and order coffee before heading to work, and the jukebox in the corner glows neon, only offering a selection of music from the 50s.

Behind the countertop is an open scratch kitchen, the sound of sizzling grease and yelled orders bracketing an Elvis song you know the words to but don’t know the name of. Black and white tile flooring with years worth of scuffs reflect the canned lighting in the ceiling. Over near the entrance is a wall covered in pictures of students of note throughout the years.

You remember the first time Chan had hauled you to Rounders. It was the first day you’d met, two freshmen absolutely terrified of the world after experiencing two back to back intro courses together. The dining hall was on the opposite side of campus from your classes, but Chan had insisted there was a diner just off the corner that everyone said was a necessary experience.

He was the first real friend you made. Your roommates had become your best friends too, Lorna and Mai splashed across almost every memory you have of college. But that first day is only colored with Chan, who had slid into the seat across from you and looked around the diner with a bright grin like he was suddenly at home.

Wanna start coming here after class?

You did. And you had.

A hand waves in front of your face, making you blink several times before Chan’s face swims into focus. Your thoughts are a little delayed as you drink him in: dark hair framing dark, angular eyes that turn molten brown when the sun hits them just right, a jawline that has turned sharper as he’s aged, though his cheeks still have a youthful softness that you adore, and a grin that makes the world dim.

“What?” you ask him, totally at a loss for words.

He laughs and you feel the corners of your lips turn upward, an automatic response to his mirth. “I asked if you were ready to go.”

You look up to see Mingyu at the register, passing over the bill and a card. “I think I spaced out. I thought you were buying him fries?”

He snorts. “Never fear, it’s my card. Everything okay?”

You hesitate. Not for the first time, the urge to spill your guts to him grips you so forcefully that you almost do right in the middle of Rounders. Almost tell him everything from start to finish, the feelings, the reason you don’t want to date Joshua, how beautiful you think Chan is-

Mingyu starts heading back and you force a grin on your face, bumping his shoulder with yours. “Of course. A little tired, though. Thanks for dinner.”

“You know I’ve got you.” He gets up from the booth and holds his hand out to you. “Always.”

Chan is the stupidest fucking person he knows. He lets out a loud scream into the warmth of his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut as he lays face down in his bed. His arms are shoved under the pillow, fisting in his sheets as the long-winded scream finally begins to die out.

“Yes, that is healthy,” Seungkwan calls from Chan’s desk against the window. “Let the pillow know everything that you’re feeling.”

Scowling, Chan lifts his head up and looks over his shoulder at where Seungkwan is sitting. His roommate is hunched over Chan’s laptop, a document open on the screen as he clicks around rapidly, cursing under his breath.

“Why are you in here again?”

“My literature professor is a dinosaur,” Seungkwan answers. “And only accepts printed essay submissions.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“No, I mean you don’t have your own printer?”

“No, and I will not be paying thirty cents a paper for an essay that is almost thirty pages long.”

“That’s like, nine dollars dude. Also, why is your essay thirty pages long?”

“Ask the dude who wrote Beowulf.”

“Isn’t that like… a movie?”

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath. The printer chimes, followed by a mechanic whirring as the paper feeds into the machine and starts printing. Spinning in the chair, Seungkwan looks at where Chan is still laying stomach down, face squished against his pillow as he cradles it.

“Speaking of movies - are you having Blood and Popcorn here or at Bambi’s?”

Chan can’t help but smirk at the nickname. It had stuck ever since your freshman year when you’d called Rin Hartford a bambi-eyed bitch for saying nasty things to Mingyu. He thinks that night might be the night he realized he was absolutely head over heels for you, even if he had only known you for two weeks then.

Despite your quiet disposition, you’ve always been the epitome of bravery. He can’t recall a time that you haven’t said what you meant or meant what you said, and defending your friends and speaking up has always been paramount to you.

For someone like Chan who was often the youngest and the softest spoken in any group he was in, you were a breath of fresh air. And you’ve taught him to speak up for himself, letting him grow comfortable pushing back with people - especially his friends - and how to give back what he gets.

Corrupted, Seungcheol joked once. She corrupted him and taught him how to bully us back.

“I’m not really sure,” Chan says slowly, thinking about your conversation at the diner, the exact source of his pillow-scream. “We might not be doing it.”

“Uh-oh. Trouble in paradise?”

“There is no paradise. We’re just friends.”

“That’s the trouble I’m talking about, brother.” Seungkwan turns around to start collecting the pages out of the printer. “Is the Blood and Popcorn cancellation the reason for your pillow screaming?”

“I don’t know that it’s canceled.”

“That really clarifies the issue.”

Chan scowls. “Did you know Shua was into her?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“He asked her on a date.”

“Joshua must have got tired of waiting for you to make a move on Bambi. I guess he decided you weren’t going to.”

Chan frowns and sits up. He didn’t realize Joshua remotely had a thing for you, and while Chan adores the older member of their larger friend group, the thought of him taking you to dinner - a date - makes his stomach tighten.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Seungkwan clarifies. “That you have had the last four years to nut up or shut up. Everyone has waited for you to make your move on Bambi and you haven’t. If you’re not going to do it, someone else might as well.”

“I mean, anyone could ask her out. It’s not like I have-”

“Don’t you dare say you didn’t have dibs. Dibs can be unspoken, Chan. You’ve been in love with that girl since freshman year, if you think people - especially our friends - cannot tell and don’t respect you enough to give you time to ask her out, you need to wake up.”

“It’s that obvious?”

“Not to her, clearly.” Seungkwan stands and grins at Chan placidly, his essay collected in his hands. “Fortunately for you, the only person who is as dumb as you are is Bambi. Match made in heaven, really.”

Chan chews his bottom lip. That offers a little bit of relief. He doesn’t like knowing that his feelings are so obvious to everyone else, but at least you don’t know. He cannot imagine how uncomfortable it would make your friendship dynamic knowing he was mooning over you while you just saw him as a friend.

“Well, she doesn’t feel that way about me. I’m not going to confess my unrequited feelings and put her in that position to deal with them. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Seungkwan gives Chan a slow blink, smile turning plastic. “Like I said. Match made in heaven.”

Heaving a sigh, Chan throws himself on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Chan was certainly an idiot for a lot of reasons, but the biggest reason has to be the way he has let his feelings for you fester since freshman year. Instead of implementing preventative maintenance, he’s let the problem grow to the point that his friends are no longer waiting for him to do something about it.

The window of opportunity is gone.

Not that there was a window of opportunity to begin with. Chan has seen what it looks like when you’re interested in guys - dazed eyes, a little flustered, a tiny grin on your face. You’ve never looked at him that way. At least, not really like that. You smile at him all the time, but it’s different.

If he had the slightest indication you looked at him like you were interested, he’d have spilled his feelings a long time ago. Hiding this from you feels almost like a violation of friendship, but in order to preserve the friendship and keep you comfortable, he does what he must.

The memory of him telling you to go on a date with Joshua makes him groan in embarrassment. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes, seeing stars explode behind his lids. It had been a knee jerk response, something to distract you from the immediate jealousy and panic he’d felt that moment that Mingyu had dropped that bit of information at the table.

Mingyu. That motherfucker did it on purpose - not to rile Chan, but to try and give him a kick in the ass toward the right direction. But like everyone else, Mingyu doesn’t get it. If Chan told you how he felt just to get it off of his chest, it would be putting his burden on you. You’d be the one who had to feel guilty for it being unrequited, you’d be the one who would inevitably feel uncomfortable or out of place.

No. It would be the highest form of selfishness he can think of, offloading the heavy weight of his feelings just to give them to you as a reprieve from carrying them around so long.

Chan blinks away the swimming colors, staring up at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom again. He can hear Seungkwan singing somewhere in the apartment, liquid voice calming even in Chan’s mild state of distress.

Joshua is a good guy. Honestly, there are only a few guys that Chan knows who would make a suitable partner for you, and he begrudgingly acknowledges that Joshua is at the top of that list. And yet he still feels a twist of self-loathing that he had pushed you so quickly towards it, the regret like bile in his stomach.

The last thing Chan wants to do is skip Blood and Popcorn this week. It is the one guaranteed day of uninterrupted time with you, and he waved it away like it meant nothing to him, which could not be farther from the truth. The nights of watching Buffy and eating pizza and sometimes popcorn mean everything to him.

He just wishes he had been brave enough to stand his ground.

Maybe Joshua Hong is the worst person ever. Chan dismisses the irrational thought as soon as he has it. Joshua isn’t awful at all. It’s just that he’s leaning in toward you and saying something into your ear over the loud din of the party, and Chan watches the way you nod.

Crack. The plastic cup in his hand splits and immediately spills rum and coke all over the kitchen floor. Jeonghan starts yelling at him, ripping paper towels off of the roll and throwing them in Chan’s direction. He mutters an apology, gaze drifting over the kitchen counter to the living room where you’re laughing, head tilted back, warm light splaying across your throat-

“Ya! Don’t just let it pool at your feet!”

Jeonghan’s screech brings Chan back to life. He snatches the copious amounts of paper towels Jeonghan has thrown at him and starts to soak up the drink. The tile floor is already sticky and Chan cringes. No way have either Jeonghang or Seungcheol cleaned this floor any time recently. If anything, Chan has done it a favor.

The party is in full swing around him. He stands up with the soaked paper in his hand, tossing it into the trash and grabbing more while Jeonghan digs underneath the counter. Chan finishes soaking up the spilled drink and comes eye to eye with a new set of paper towels and spray cleaner.

Chan gives Jeonghan the soaked papers. “Jeonghan, your floor is already disgusting.”

“Then you should have no problem cleaning it!”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Don’t call me that!”

He rolls his eyes but does what Jeonghan says, spraying the area quickly and pressing down the paper towels. They come away sticky and black, making him cringe in disgust before tossing them out and washing his hands. As he turns off the faucet, Jeonghan has the decency to hand him a new drink.

Chan takes it without comment, the image of Joshua leaning into you a little too much for him to deal with right now. He drains the cup, sputtering a little. Jeonghan is a heavy pour and the spiced rum goes down rough, his eyes tearing just a little as he finishes the drink.

“Well, that’s one way to stop from spilling.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a look before reaching for the mixer and handle of rum again. “You do normally drink like a fish, but anything in particular driving tonight’s thirst?”

“Nope.”

“Right, so it’s not tall, dark and handsome hanging out with Bambi?”

Chan feels his eye twitch as he heavily pours the liquor into his cup. “Nope. And Joshua isn’t even that tall.”

“Taller than you.” Chan shoots Jeonghan a venomous look. His face is beatific, grin a little bit dangerous as he holds his hands up in a white flag. “You look pretty bothered. If only there were a way to fix that.” Chan looks at Jeonghan with wide eyes, hope surging for a moment. “Just tell her you like her.”

“Why is that the only advice any of you have?”

“Because it’s the only advice I have. Either tell her or get over your feelings. Those are your options.”

“And I’ve already told you, it would just make her uncomfortable. It’s not her burden to bear.”

Jeongan taps his fingers on the countertop, studying Chan. Chan pouts into his cup, taking long draughts, trying not to cringe at the strong taste. He can already sense the oncoming buzz and he welcomes it, needing a little something to distract him from the obvious elephant in the living room.

“Alright,” Jeognhan relents. “Then deal with the consequences and get over your feelings.”

And he will. Chan has always been good at dealing with the repercussions of hiding his feelings, and he does them well. So he tips back the cup and rejoins the party, nerves steeled and ready to deal with the consequences like his friends keep telling him to.

“What?” you asked, lifting your voice to be heard over the rowdy game of cards at the coffee table. Joshua had asked you something but the words had been lost on you as your gaze drifted to Chan where he was leaning against the wall, talking to a girl you didn’t know. He was leaning awfully close. “I didn’t catch that.”

Joshua smiles. He really is handsome, and everything someone could want in a partner. He’s kind and gentle, has a little bit of an insane streak, and he is incredibly intelligent and loyal. So why do you feel nothing when he grins at you or laughs?

Your eyes drift over to Chan again and you feel your stomach flip. The alcohol turns to lead. The girl Chan is speaking to is so close to him, both of them turned toward one another as he ducks his head down to say something to her. She laughs and he smiles, looking her up and down.

Jealousy swallows you whole. It roars so loudly in your ears that you almost miss Joshua’s question again. “Did you give any thoughts about dinner on Friday?”

Dinner? Friday? Oh right. He had asked you to dinner on Friday, but you’d declined due to your planned Blood and Popcorn night. With Chan. Who is flirting with the girl next to him, who is flirting back.

The jealousy feels like a raw, rotten thing. It turns the alcohol in your stomach sour, makes the sweat on the back of your neck feel too much, like the room is too loud and too full. Even as the envy rears its head, an ugly beast ready to unleash, you turn to Joshua and say, “I really can’t. Friday nights are really important to me.”

Joshua looks disappointed, but he’s polite enough to nod and smile. “I understand. Maybe a different night?”

“Um, maybe. Would you excuse me? I really need some air.”

You stand abruptly, starling the people next to you. The cup in your hand shakes a little and your throat constricts and oh god. You cannot cry in the middle of a party just because you’re a little buzzed and the boy you like is across the room with another girl.

“Do you want me to-”

“No!” You quip, shaking your head. “Totally fine, I’m so fine, I just need some air. Please! Sit! Stay!”

Joshua raises his eyebrows at your frantic commands and you give a laugh that is a little on the hysterical side as you step over the legs of people sitting on the floor and on the couch. Joshua calls after you as you make the escape but you don’t turn around, eager to get out of the room.

You trip over someone’s foot and nearly launch into a passerby as you go. Strong hands steady you before you totally topple over, though your drink sloshes over the edge of your cup, spilling it on the carpet.

“What is it with you and your other half?” You look up to realize that it’s Jeonghan who stabilized you. “Spilling drinks all over my damn floor!”

“It probably helps. Your floors are disgusting.”

“Ya! That’s beside the point - why do you look like you’re about to die?”

“I feel like I might. I need fresh air.” For a moment, Jeonghan looks confused. You watch his dark brows pull together and he looks over your head, dark gaze scanning for something. For Chan, you realize. It’s usually Chan who leaves with you if you need air or need to stick your head in a bucket to vomit. The realization hits you like a brick. “Not him,” you whisper. “I’m fine.”

Your words land at the same time Jeonghan focuses in the direction you’d last seen Chan. He holds you there, suspended in time for a moment as his eyes dart between you and back to where you know Chan is still leaning against the wall.

There is a flicker of something that you cannot place in Jeonghan’s gaze before it softens and he nods. He pulls you toward him and helps guide you around the groups of people. “Fresh air it is.”

“You don’t have to come.”

“I don’t know, crying alone is kind of lame, Bambi.”

Cool air hits you the second you step onto the porch. Soonyoung is sitting on the railing with Jihoon and Vernon leaning next to him. He waves enthusiastically when he sees you, breaking out into a grin and lifting the joint between his fingers, an offer. You shake your head and he shrugs, passing it to Vernon who lifts a hand in salute.

The smell of weed chases you down the grass slope of Jeonghan’s backyard. It’s not so much a backyard as it is open to the apartment community’s lake. The spray of the fountain grows louder as the sounds of the party fade.

Jeonghan sits down in the grass, leaning back on his hands. You join him, cringing at the dampness from the dewey grass. Taking in a deep breath you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting the wind cool the sweat on your overheated skin. The breeze mists the fountain, tiny specks of water tingling on your face as you sit in silence.

Behind your lids, you can see the image of Chan leaning in toward that girl. The intimacy of the space. You hate how you can recall it in such detail - you’d always been able to remember details where Chan was involved. Like the way he was wearing a black, long-sleeved tee that pulled against his chest and arms perfectly, or the way the necklace you bought him two years ago glinted in the light of the living room, or the way-

“I did it to myself, huh?” you ask, feeling the first tear collect on your lash line. You tilt your head upward, trying to blink it rapidly away. “I could have just told him a while ago.”

“Well, I don’t think you’re entirely responsible,” Jeonghan mutters. “Look, putting your heart on your sleeve is really scary, especially when it’s to someone you really value. But you have to decide what to do. You can either tell Chan you love him or you can decide to get over it. You can’t cling to unspoken feelings, though.”

“I just… I don't feel like he returns the feelings and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“Then get over him.” You snap your gaze at Jeonghan, who is looking at you with the cool and calm you wish you felt. “If you’re unwilling to be honest with him, then your option is to get over it.”

“Do you think he would… react poorly?”

“Of course not, but I will not speak to all of Chan’s feelings. Those are his to share, not mine, and I believe in the sanctity of acting on one’s own.”

“You sound so… saintly.”

“Dealing with all your problems has turned me into a saint. Do you know what it’s like being therapy to all of these damn people? You all take ‘door open’ a little too seriously.”

You laugh, feeling a little lighter. Pulling at the grass, you sigh. “You’re right, though. I either need to just tell him or let it go. I can’t just… suffer.”

“If only you’d come to that conclusion a while ago.”

“Bleh.”

Fresh air and the weight of Jeonghan’s words weigh down on you. You know that he’s right. Though you’re confident that Chan doesn’t return your feelings, you don’t explicitly know because you’ve never asked. And if you never ask, you’ll never know.

Calm settles over you as you decide your course of action. Blood and Popcorn is in two days - you can bring it up then.

Nodding to yourself, you pluck more grass out of the ground. “Alright,” you tell Jeonghan, heaving a sigh. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Ugh, you two! Don’t call me that!”

Hands shaking, you stare at your phone. You’ve had two days to mentally prepare for this evening and yet when you look at your phone, you think two days was not remotely enough to prepare for this evening. You haven’t spoken to Chan at all about what time you want to have your weekly hangout, but that’s not unusual.

The only thing unusual is your hesitation to hit the call button and ask what time he wants to come over. It’s such a simple thing - you don’t need to confess your feelings to him right now. But the anticipation of what inviting him over means and the possible disaster it can bring makes your fingers shaky.

Instead of hitting dial, you take one deep breath and let it out slowly. In slowly again, and-

Your phone starts ringing before you can finish the exhale. Your heart pounds in your throat when you see Chan’s name flash across your screen. For a few seconds there is pure panic, but you manage to collect yourself and slide your thumb across the screen. It takes a few tries, your hands clammy with anxiety as you answer.

“Hi!”

“Don’t kill me,” Chan immediately says on the other side of the line. You pause, cocking your head.

“Why would I do that?”

“I have to raincheck on Blood and Popcorn tonight.”

“Oh no, are you sick? Do you need me to bring anything over? Is Seungkwan-”

Chan laughs on the other side of the phone and your stomach flutters helplessly. You hear the creak of bed springs and you know he’s sitting on his bed. He has the world’s creakiest bed. “I’m not sick.”

“Oh.”

You frown, sitting down on your couch and folding your legs. There’s nothing else you can think of that Chan would cancel Blood and Popcorn for, so illness had seemed like the first rational thing. You feel a little embarrassed at immediately trying to take care of him, but push it away to ask, “What’s up?”

“I have a date. Tonight is the only night she was available for like two weeks. She’s in her first year of law school so her availability sucks.”

It feels like the air vanishes from the room. You lean back against the backrest on the couch, deflated. You hold the phone to your ear, but don’t feel the weight of it in your hand. The TV across the living room becomes a blur, the muted program in the background unrecognizable.

A date. Chan has a date. That he’s willing to cancel your night for.

You think back to that night at the diner when he told you to just go out with Joshua instead of doing Blood and Popcorn. How easily he pushed it aside. Like it was unimportant. Easily missed.

“Bambi?” Chan’s voice sounds distant through the roar of your emotions. “You there? The cell service in your apartment is so shitty.”

“I’m here.”

“Oh good. Sorry to miss, please don’t kill me. We can add two days of Blood and Popcorn next week to make up for it?”

“Yeah. Uh. Yeah.”

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Definitely.” Lie. “Sorry, I just woke up from a nap and I’m a little spacy.” Lie. “No problems here. I’m not mad. Enjoy your date.” Lie.

“Thanks, I’ll let you know how it goes after!”

“For sure.”

When Chan hangs up the phone, you think that Jeonghan was right. Crying alone is lame.

Chan can’t do this.

Sol isn’t the problem - at least not directly. She is beautiful and funny, sharp as a whip and has an edge to her that he loves in women. She is successful, has goals, and she’s sensible. And she’s into him, which is perhaps the biggest plus of all.

But she isn’t you. Sol’s biggest problem is that she’s not you, and it’s not really her problem at all. It is Chan’s and Chan’s alone, and he cannot sit through this date anymore. He’s tried for the last hour already, asking all of the right questions and laughing at all the right places, but he cannot stop the way he wonders if you’re watching buffy. He cannot help but wonder if you’re in those expensive pajamas you like, drinking inexpensive wine from the corner story, his favorite contrast.

Chan cannot stop thinking that his button up is a little too tight on his chest and the uncomfortable way his new shoes rub his ankle. He’d rather be in a tee and shorts, freshly showered and stretched out. He cannot stop blinking his eyes, hating the way one of his contacts is irritating him, wishing instead to be in glasses and the lowlight of your apartment.

From the moment he ended that call with you to cancel Blood and Popcorn, all he’s felt is dread. Dread for the upcoming date with someone he should be excited about, dread for telling you how it goes, dread for having to be in public with people and to get to know someone, dread at what happens at the end of the date, does he have to kiss her? Does he have to go get ice cream? What does he do-

“Are you okay?” Sol’s raspy voice draws him from his thoughts - not for the first time that night. She’s leaning back in her seat, dark eyes pinning him to the spot. She is as sharp as she is beautiful, and normally someone like Sol would make him trip over his feet. “You zoned out.”

“I apologize, that was rude of me.”

“It was,” she agrees. She swirls the wine in her glass, looking him up and down before giving him a sympathetic smile. “I won’t be offended if you want to call this off early.”

“What?”

“You’re not interested,” she asserts. Confident. Self-assured. “It’s totally okay if it’s not working for you.”

Heat crawls up the side of Chan’s neck. He runs his sweaty palms over his slacks. “I am so sorry,” he says earnestly. “This sounds so stupid to say, but it is me, it isn’t you.”

“No offense, but I know. You’ve been distracted since we got here. You obviously have something or someone else on your mind.”

“That easy to read, huh?”

“Open book. I have some pride, though. Let’s pay the bill?”

“I’m sorry.”

Her grin is polite. Understanding. “Don’t be. You’re cute and nice, but I cannot suffer knowing your mind isn’t on me.”

“Understandable.”

Chan knows he’s lucky. Anyone else a little less level-headed or less confident might have made him suffer. As it is, Sol does let him suffer a little, sliding the bill over to him with a knowing grin. He likes Sol - not like he likes you, but she’s good people.

“Promise me one thing?” Sol asks before ducking into her Uber. “It’ll help my pride.”

“Sure.”

“Go spend the rest of the evening with whoever it is and make sure you tell them how you feel. It’ll be worth it, that way.”

Chan grins. “Alright. I promise.”

And he does intend to hold to that promise. Something about tonight is different. He can feel it as he walks quickly to his car, undoing the top button of his shirt as he goes. The air is crisp and there are still a few streaks of orange in the night sky, the sun long gone.

Chan calls you as he turns his car onto the road, heading toward your apartment on the northside of down. He drums his fingers along the steering wheel, buzzing with nervous and excited energy as the line rings. When you don’t pick up, he ends the call.

Jeonghan was right - he usually is. Chan could either tell you how he feels or live with the consequences, and he’s decided he cannot live with the consequences. He cannot sit across the table from someone who isn’t you and pretend that he isn’t wondering what you’re doing. He cannot look at the curve of someone else’s mouth and wonder what it would be like if it were yours.

The date had been spurred by the intense wave of jealousy and inadequacy he felt at Jeonghan’s party when he saw you sitting on the couch with Joshua. He has no idea how else he would have had the confidence to start chatting up someone as commanding as Sol, but he was powered by rum and a wounded heart.

Stupid. It was stupid, he realizes now. He has been stupid so many times regarding you and for long enough that even Joshua, the most polite of his friends, felt like they could respectfully intercept you, now.

Well, perhaps you will choose Joshua instead. Chan is fine with that. What you want has always been paramount to him. But if you choose Joshua, it will be with the knowledge that Chan loves you and he always has.

Steeling himself, he gets out of the car at your apartment complex and looks up at the building. He can see the lights on in your living room, confirming you’re still home and probably watching Buffy. The thought sends a thrill through him and he smiles, shaking his head and taking a deep breath.

“You’ve got this, Lee Chan,” he tells himself. “You’ve got this.”

A loud knock on your door startles you. You finish blowing your nose in the issue, trying to suck up the rest of your tears. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater - Chan’s sweater - over your hands, you wipe your face with sweater paws, trying to erase some evidence of your tears before having to face the delivery person.

Grabbing the bills on the counter, you wonder how many people delivering food have seen people answer the door while crying or immediately after crying. Honestly, they’ve probably seen all types of strange situations, which makes you feel a little bit about answering the door after very clearly sobbing.

Unlatching the top and flipping the deadbolt, you yank the door open, prepared to not make eye contact to make it a little less awkward for you and the person just trying to hand you pizza and soda, except-

“Chan?”

It is Chan standing outside of your door. You blink in surprise, giving him a quick once over. He looks really nice, dressed in slacks and a black button up shirt that is a little too tight across the chest - not that you’re complaining - and the top of the buttons undone to reveal the necklace you gifted him. His dark hair has styling product in it, pushing it out of his face, save for a small rebel strand that hangs over his eyebrow.

Chan looks… beautiful. You’re suddenly very aware that you’re in his sweatshirt and sweatpants, face swollen from crying, nose a little snotty and looking worse for wear.

“What are you doing here?”

“Why are you crying?”

Chan pushes his way into your apartment and you let him, dropping your arm as he passes by. He shuts the door for you, flipping the latch and lock out of habit as he turns to you. He reaches out to grab you by the shoulders but you back up a little, suddenly terrified of his touch.

He notices. “Why are you crying?” he asks again, dark brows knitted and mouth twisted in a frown. “Talk to me.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a date?”

“Left early, wasn’t working. What’s going on?”

You swallow thickly, realizing you’re at a crossroads. Silence stretches between you as he waits for your answer, looking at you with so much concern that you begin to crack. The tension in your throat returns, the telltale sign of tears and you ball your fists, nails digging into your palms.

A torrent of feelings bombard you. Anger. Hurt. Desire. Relief. Hurt again.

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn.”

Chan opens and closes his mouth, head cocking to the side a little bit. He looks mystified, trying to put together the pieces to the puzzle. “I don’t understand.”

“You canceled Blood and Popcorn for something else. For someone else.”

“I-”

A series of emotions flit over his face. You feel your heart pounding wildly in your chest as you watch each one, trying to catch them as they go. Confusion. Thoughtfulness. Confusion. Realization. You watch as he drinks you in, the tears, the wet stains from crying on the shirt, your words. Slowly, Chan puts the pieces together for the entire picture, and his face becomes so soft that you nearly cringe.

“Oh, Bambi.”

“You can date whoever you want, you’re not mine,” you punch out, wiping a tear as it escapes your eye. Feeling small, you back away from him a little, breaking eye contact. “But it hurts when you shove me aside like that. Look, I know we’re friends, but-”

“Bambi,” he says gently. You’re not looking at him, but you know that tone. The pleading. He’s begging you to stop, you think, but if you don’t get this out now you never will.

“Blood and Popcorn is important to me. You’re important to me. I know you’ve never seen me as more than a friend, but Chan-”

Chan interrupts you again. This time though, it’s by crashing against you. You nearly topple over onto the coffee table with the force of it, but you cling to him, digging your hands into the meat of his biceps to hold yourself to him. His hands press into the small of your back, sending a bolt of electricity to you that you can’t pay any attention to, because Chan presses his mouth against yours softly, stealing all of your thoughts.

For a second, your brain goes static. You’re so stunned you don’t do anything but cling to him, vacantly aware that the softness of his lips are on yours. Tentative. Questioning.

Chan pulls away and your eyes flutter open. He is only an inch away from your face, his minty breath fanning your lips as he begins to apologize, panic on his face. You interrupt him this time, surging forward to crash your lips to his, far less gentle than he had been the first time.

The box you’ve shoved every feeling for Chan cracks open. You feel everything pour out of it, a steady stream of want as you press into him. He smells like teakwood and mint, hypnotizing you. His mouth is soft and eager, sucking gently against your bottom lip.

Everything feels lighter, like gravity has lost all meaning. Chan pulls away from your mouth a little, close enough to brush your lips against his in a feather-light kiss, but enough to gaze down at you through half lidded eyes.

“The date didn’t work out because I kept thinking of you,” he whispers, voice shaking. You feel your breath stop as he speaks, each word sinking in. “It was stupid to ask her out. I was feeling insecure about Joshua asking you out, and it was stupid and petty-”

You kiss him again. He smiles into the kiss, letting you lead him, slow and lazy. You feel his tongue brush against the seam of your lips and you eagerly let him in, toes curling as he licks into your mouth.

“I just want you,” Chan admits, breaking away for a quick breath of air. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek. He peppers your face in them as his hands skate up your back, hot even through the material of his sweatshirt. “I have for so long and I’ve been so afraid to tell you.”

“I was afraid too.”

“I have wasted so much time.” His hands cradle your face, turning you to look at him.

Chan is so earnest. Raw honestly glitters in his eyes. Deeper, hiding beneath the surface is something a little darker and more intense. Want. Desire. Something that lingers, waiting for you to call it forward. You love him so much that in that moment you almost cry more, feeling overwhelmed with everything you’ve buried down for years.

“I want to make up for it,” you whisper, stealing a kiss that is more teeth than anything. He makes a noise in the back of his throat. Your hands sink to his waist, gripping at the fabric of his shirt. “I was actually going to tell you tonight, before you canceled.”

“What a stupid man I am.”

You smirk a little. “Yes.”

“Let me apologize,” he murmurs, voice low. You feel yourself shiver as he pushes you toward your room, connecting your mouths again. The kiss is messy and needy, so different than the one moments before. You tangle together, stumbling toward your room. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh?”

The crash landing onto your mattress is not graceful. Chan’s full weight falls on top of you and your foreheads smack a little. You yelp in paint and Chan groans, burying his face in your neck. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles to the surface, exploding out of you as your hands press flat on his back, soothing as you hold him to you.

“First step of apologizing,” you wheeze under him. “Give her a concussion.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, burying his face further in embarrassment. “I’m a little eager.”

His breath tickles your neck, making you squirm under him. He seems to notice, opting to press open-mouthed kisses against your throat. You hum, eyelids fluttering at the stimulation. “It’s okay,” you breathe, fingers turning to claws against his back. “It’s cute.”

Chan leans off of you, properly supporting himself with arms on either side of your head, caging you in. His knee slots between your legs, making your stomach leap in excitement as he scoots it up a little, almost pressing against you.

“You’re cute,” he notes, kisses getting messy as they go up your neck toward your ear. He nips your ear and you let out a sound. His laughter is warm against you and you shiver. “You’re in my clothes.”

“I wear them all the time.”

He groans. “I know. Fuck I know.”

“Is that what does it for you?” You move your hands from his back to his waist, pulling the tucked shirt from the waistband of his slacks. His hips twitch forward, excited. He busies his mouth with pressing wet kisses to your jaw. “Me in your clothes?”

“Everything does it for me. I am down horrendous for you.”

“I really didn’t know.”

He moves a hand to pull at the collar of his sweatshirt, exposing more of your collarbones to him as he kisses. “Everyone else did,” he assures you. You hiss when he bites down and licks over the sting, looking up through dark lashes to gauge your reaction. You nod a little and he grins, doing it again. “Biting. Got it.”

With trembling fingers, you work the buttons on his shirt. You steal touches as you go, greedy for him. Too long have you hidden what you want in the shadows, too long have you resisted this. Now, you take.

You brush your fingers against the flexing muscle of his stomach as you pull at the shirt, making him moan deep in his throat. His skin is like fire as you brush your fingers across its warmth, shoving his shirt off. He leans up, letting it fall from his shoulders, rippling to the ground.

The light from your hall glows behind Chan, halloween him in golden light. Your breath catches in your chest as your fingers press to his skin, brush over his shoulders and chest, down his stomach. You feel him twitch beneath your hands but he lets you explore, breathing hard under your reverence.

Golden boy, so full of fire. It’s all you can think of as you stare up at him, equal parts light and dark in your bedroom. Your hands drop to his belt and you tug him to you, desperate for him.

“Kiss me,” you beg.

He does. His mouth is greedy, stealing your breath. A thrill shoots through you when he slides his knee up higher, pressing it between your legs. You breath the kiss to gasp at the barest amount of pressure and Chan grins, watching your reaction through a heavy gaze.

“Take this off for me,” he asks, voice raspy. He pulls at the hem of his sweatshirt on your frame. “Please.”

You lean up, pressing your mouth to his collarbone in a sweet kiss as you pull the shirt over your head. He helps you, tossing it somewhere else. His hands go to your sides, fingers tracing up your curves as he pushes you back down, claiming your mouth again.

It feels like you might go crazy. Your bare chest presses against his, the friction turning your blood to liquid fire. His knee is firm between your legs, and when his hand slips to your waist, squeezing you and urging you to roll your hips you can’t help but let out a moan in the shape of his name, helpless.

“Fuck,” he swears, dropping his forehead to your shoulder as he helps you move against his thigh. “If you say my name like that again I might bust in my fucking pants.”

“Chan.”

“Don’t,” he laughs, biting your shoulder. “I want this so bad.”

“I want you.”

“I might pass out due to sheer joy.”

“I have some ideas on how to revive you.”

He lets out a swear and you laugh. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“Maybe.”

Truth is, you think he might be the death of you. You’d die happily in his arms, completely swept up in the feeling of Chan’s tongue as it skates across your skin and up the swell of your breast. When he pauses, you look down at him. He smirks, happy to have your attention before he flicks his tongue lightly over the peak of your nipple.

You squeeze your legs around his thigh, back bowing off the bed. He lets out a chuckle, repeating the flicking motion as he watches you with dark, satisfied eyes. It drives you insane, the way he watches you with equal parts reverence and determination to find out what makes you squirm.

Chan is a fast learner. His teeth scrape against your nipple and you whine, thrashing under him as he teases you, pulling gently. The sting feels so good, making you melt into the mattress underneath him. He makes a sound of appreciation, sucking gently and sending you to the moon before trailing his mouth toward your other breast.

The hand on your hip squeezes you, reminding you why it had been there in the first place. “Keep going.” His breath fans against your skin and you tremble. “I like seeing you worked up.”

“God,” you whisper, trying to roll your hips against his leg again. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and as he sucks greedily at your chest you feel like you might rip at the seams. “Who knew you were so… this.”

You feel his wet grin against you, tongue flicking against your pert nipple. Your head falls to the side as you pant, trying to catch your fucking breath.

Of course he can reduce you to nothing so easily. No one knows you better than Chan, the two of you like twin flames. Every touch of his tongue, every press of his fingers into your skin, every breath of your name on his lips were made to unravel you because it’s Chan. Your Chan.

Your Chan who gently pulls the sweatpants from your hips, groaning low and slow when he sees the way your panties stick to your folds. Your Chan who kisses and bites the softness of your thighs, breath ghosting across sensitive flesh, fingers prying your legs apart when they start to twitch shut.

You’d always been made for him. To think otherwise was folly. You know that now, hand gripping his bones tight as he pulls your hands to the side, the cold air hitting your aching cunt. He lets you squeeze his hand, not caring that your gripping is bone-breaking.

“Hmm.” He looks up at you and you look down at him. His eyes are blown and he grins, shaking his head a little. “This for me?” You nod, your thoughts banging around the near empty space in your head as you do. “Fuck.”

And then his tongue presses against you, flat and warm and fuck fuck fuck. You can barely function as Chan drags his tongue slowly up your pussy, avoiding your clit entirely before dragging it back down. He makes a sound in his throat that sounds like a whine and you nearly lose it there, driven insane by him.

Chan takes the hand he has linked with yours and rests it on your hip, pressing into you to keep you still. You buck under his mouth and he laughs, unbothered as he looks up at you. The vision of him between your legs makes you dizzy, his hair mused, tongue pressed between your folds, eyes starving.

Your other hand grips his wrist where his opposite hand holds you open. You cling to him, thighs twitching as he licks you at his leisure. His mouth is a weapon, bringing you to the edge of insane easily. When he closes his lips around your clit and sucks gently, you fear you might break.

He can sense it too, setting himself to the task of pushing you over the edge. Chan learns you so quickly - maybe just knows you intuitively - alternating between circling his tongue around your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking on it gently.

“I am going to die,” you gasp between ragged breaths. “Your fucking mouth.”

“Yeah? Feels good?” The buzz of his words drive right into your lower stomach where your orgasmed has so much compacted pressure you know you’re going to snap any moment. “Taste so good. I could eat this pussy all fucking night.”

“Fuck, Chan. I’m gonna come.”

He gives a harsh suck to your cunt, the wet sound obscene. “Good.”

“Like that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, panting. He does it again, following your instruction. Your mouth falls open as you nod, unable to string together more than. “Mmm.”

Chan doubles his effort, the wet sounds of his mouth making it all the harder to keep it together. He keeps you in place as best as he can, but his little hums of pleasure and the combination of his mouth and tongue send your orgasm slamming into you.

You think you say his name. You have no idea if anything comes out at all. You come hard, thrashing against the bed as he licks you through it, uncaring. Every nerve in your body is on fire, limbs tingling as you float in the momentary high of your peak before you start to come back down, breathing raggedly.

A cramp throbs in your fingers that are still twisted in Chan’s grip. You loosen your grip a little bit, feeling a little bad about almost snapping his fingers. He doesn’t seem to mind, head still between your legs, tongue gentle and pressed against your twitching entrance. He avoids your clit, letting you catch your breath.

“Chan,” you mumble. He lifts his head, your arousal spread across his mouth. He is a mess, spiking your need for him. You pull at him, wild. “Kiss me.”

He doesn’t hesitate. He scrambles up to you, letting go of your hand in favor of cradling your face. The kiss is hungry and wet, your heady taste on his mouth as you drink him in. You don’t care, desperate to have him close, pulling him into you.

One of your hands snakes between your bodies, pressing against the firm outline of his cock through his pants. He lets out a whine, shaking his head as he breaks the kiss, breathing heavy.

“Don’t,” he begs. “I will cum right now.”

“Oh?”

“I’m so serious, I almost came untouched.”

“Wow, I really do it for you, huh?”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His sincerity makes you flush and you peck him on the lips. “I cannot promise I will not come apart after a single stroke.”

“Don’t care.” You undo his belt, pulling. “Want it. Want you. Please don’t make me wait.”

He curses. “I can deny you nothing.” He sees your wicked grin and shakes his head, laughing as he pulls away to kick out of his pants. “You like having me wrapped around your finger, huh?”

“You’re not the only one whipped.” He looks at you, doubtful. “You think I share my fries with anyone? Be so real, Chan. That’s something only you can do.”

“Got it. French fry privileges, what else can I weaponize?”

You don’t answer his question, distracted by him as he peels his briefs off and fists his heavy cock. You lick your lips, drinking in the length and thickness of him, the sticky, swollen tip, the way he pumps himself when he kneels on the bed again.

“Hmm?” he asks, noticing you're distracted. “Everything okay?”

“You have a nice dick,” you blurt. He pauses, raising his brows, thighs pressed to the back of yours. You fold your lips flat, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “Thank you is the proper response to a compliment.”

He bursts into laughter and you can’t help but join him, covering your face as it heats up. “Don’t hide from me, wanna see you,” he teases, grabbing your hands and pulling them from your face. He pins them above your head. “And thank you.”

Chan runs the head of his cock along your sticky folds, both of you moaning in unison. His hand still pins yours above your head, making you feel open and vulnerable. Your knees squeeze his hips as he ruts against you a little, eyes focused while he uses his other end to guide himself to your entrance.

“Mmm,” the sound escapes you as he presses in, the ache in your core doubling for a second as he sinks further. “Fuuuck.”

“Okay?”

“Very. Just- slow.”

“You got it, baby.”

The term of endearment hits you low in the stomach. Between him whispering baby and sinking into the hilt, you don’t know what drives you crazier. The easy answer is just Chan. It’s simply Chan who does this to you, who turns you inside out, who reduces you to a whimpering mess.

Chan lets go of your hands and brings it to your face. He leans down, supported by the other hand as he kisses you gently, letting you adjust to his girth, pussy spasming around him as you try to keep it together. The kiss is slow and sweet, in contrast to the feral kiss you shared earlier.

“Fuck,” he breaths against you mouth, laughing. He presses his forehead against yours. “You’re fucking squeezing me. I might die.”

You do it on purpose this time and he hisses, all of his muscles clenching. “Like that?”

“Doonnn’t. If I come right now I’ll be so embarrassed.”

“Why? It’s just me.”

“I don’t want to one-stroke my dream girl, are you serious?”

“Dream girl, huh?” He pulls out a little before shallow thrusting back in. “Mmm yeah. That feels good.”

Instead of answering your jest, he kisses you slowly. His strokes are slow but deep, making you sigh. He feels so good, having him like this. Chan presses his body against you, melding the two of you. You wrap your legs around his waist, squeezing to keep him as close as possible.

Your name falls from his lips as you move in sync. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feel him shake in your hands. He buries his face in your neck, mouth pressed against your skin as he breathes heavily. You cling to him, as though you could press your love into him, as though you can transfer it through touch.

Chan slides a hand between the two of you, reaching down to circle your clit gently. You whimper in surprise, squeezing around him and drawing out a low sound. “I’m gonna come soon,” he murmurs. “Do you have another one, baby? Can you try for me?”

You nod. He presses his lips to your temple, driving his hips faster, fingers firm. You feel yourself wind up again, desperate to catch up to Chan, to give him what he wants, to come undone together. You’d do anything for him - anything he asked. You always have.

A glint of metal catches your eye. You see the necklace you gifted him hanging around his neck, tapping his collarbone in time with his movements. The sight of it makes you possessive, your desire for him surging. Gripping the back of his neck, you bring his mouth to yours. You don’t kiss him, but your mouths are pressed together as you mutter, “I love you, you know?”

He groans, hips stuttering, fingers firm. You’re so close, you feel yourself right on that edge again. “I do know,” he admits, his cock pressing that perfect spot inside of you that has the room spinning. “I love you too, you know?”

You feel him smile against you. The kiss he gives you is so gentle that it sends you over the edge. You hold him tight, coming undone around him as he groans into your mouth, unraveling with you. When he stills, you keep holding him to you, his embrace warm.

Chan nudges your nose with his. You open your eyes to find his dark ones peering at you. You smile, lifting a hand to trace your fingers along his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, the roundness of his cheeks. You note the faint freckles under his eyes, his long lashes, the way one side of his lips lifts before the other when he smiles.

“Hmm?” he asks.

“You’re so pretty.” You trace your finger to his nose and then flick it. He frowns and pulls away, making you laugh. “There is cum leaking down my leg to my ass.” He thrusts once sharply and you whine. “Chaaaan.”

“Hmmm?”

“Can we shower?”

“We?”

You grin. “You speak French?”

“I speak pussy.”

“Ew, get off of me!” you laugh, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs too, rolling off and pulling out. “Take me to the shower, you loser.”

“Oui.”

“Then I want to watch Buffy - oh no.”

“What?” He stands and reaches a hand out to you, helping you up. “Are you alright?”

“I ordered pizza and they probably tried to deliver.”

“That’s okay.” He pulls you toward the shower and smacks your ass lightly, making you yelp. “Start the shower, I’ll call and get it re-delivered.”

You pause, looking at him, unable to bite back the smile. “I love you.”

“Mhmm. Love you too, Bambi.”

“I know I’m good looking,” Chan murmurs, eyes on the screen. “But you’re staring very hard at me.”

You’re laying against his chest, head tilted up to look at him. You can’t help it, watching the blue light from the TV dance across his face, reflected in the glasses he put on after the shower. His hair is still damp and fluffy, skin glistening from the skincare post-shower.

“You are good looking.”

“Damn. Only like me for the looks?”

“Well your jokes aren’t very good.”

He levels you with a glare and you laugh, kissing him quickly before settling down in his arms again. His embrace is warm and he smells like your shampoo. You press yourself into him further and he grunts, letting you.

“Can we do Blood and Popcorn forever?” you ask, watching him fondly. He smiles and kisses your forehead, flooding you with warmth. “Please?”

“Anything you ask, baby. Blood and Popcorn forever.”

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losernb · 2 days ago

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Valentine's Day Surprise

Sevika’s never experienced this before. Valentine's Day is a Piltover holiday, there’s no time for stuff like this in Zaun. She never would’ve known about it if she didn’t decide to take you and the girls out for a fun day last week.

Valentine’s Day:

“Look over there!” Jinx points, drawing Isha’s attention to the giant sign. It’s bright pink, covered in a bunch of hearts, and it reads:

Valentine’s Day Sale- All the chocolate, flowers, and plushies a girl could ever want!

Isha’s face lights up with excitement as she reads it. Candy, flowers, and a new teddy bear?! I want them! She signs eagerly towards Jinx..

“You gotta ask Sevika, she’s the one with the money.” Jinx says with a laugh.

Without hesitation, Isha dashes over to where you and Sevika are talking, tugging insistently at Sevika’s sleeve. Sevika looks down at her, brow raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong kid?” Sevika asks, voice hinting with confusion. Isha points to the sign, causing both you and Sevika to turn and look at it. You laugh a little, knowing why she was drawing your attention to it.

“Looks like we know what we’re buying today.” You laugh and pick Isha up, settling her down on your hip and kissing her cheek. She giggles and throws both arms up, letting out a victorious squeal. Sevika rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Alright, c’mon girls let’s go see what this is about.”

The four of you walk into the store, taking in the assortment of flowers and the piles of plushies. Isha and Jinx are mesmerized. Before you can blink, Isha wriggles out of your arms, grabbing Jinx’s hand and dragging her toward the stuffed animals.

“The hell is ‘Valentine’s Day’ anyway?” Sevika asks you, never having heard of it before. You grew up in Zaun as well so you had no clue.

“Maybe we can go ask?” You suggest, walking up to the first worker you see. It’s an older lady who smiles when she sees the two of you. “Hello, what can I do for you lovely ladies?” She asks, smiling warmly.

“Hi, I just wanted to ask what Valentine’s Day is, I saw it on the sign outside.” You reply, offering back a small smile.

The woman lets out a small laugh, “Oh dear, you’ve never heard of Valentine’s Day? Are you new to Piltover?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually. We don’t really have fancy holidays in Zaun—just birthdays and anniversaries, mostly.”

Sevika shifts beside you, resting a hand on your back—a habit of hers whenever she senses something’s off. You glance at her, noticing the subtle furrow in her brow.

Then, the woman’s smile fades. Her expression stiffens, her warmth turning to something colder.

“Oh,” she says, voice suddenly clipped. “Well, it’s a day to celebrate loved ones.” The words feel forced, like an afterthought. “Excuse me, I need to go.” She turns abruptly, walking away without another word.

You turn back to Sevika and understand the look now, she caught the lady’s shift in attitude before you did. You kiss her cheek, as a reminder that everything’s okay. “Cmon Sevi, lets just get our girl and go.” Sevika nods, jaw tight, but says nothing.

You make your way over to Jinx and Isha, who are still enthralled by the plushies.

“Pick out anything you like yet?” You bend down to ask Isha. She’s holding a little brown bear and Jinx is holding a bunny. This one! She signs, putting down the bear to free up her hands.

“Excuse me.”

You turn to see a small man, his posture stiff, a name tag reading Manager pinned to his vest.

“Could you please leave?” His tone is polite, but his expression is anything but.

You don’t need to ask why. The woman from earlier must’ve told him where you’re from. Zaunites aren’t banned from Piltover stores, but some people—especially in places like this—act like they should be.

You sigh, standing up and gently gathering Isha into your arms.

What’s happening? Isha signs, confusion flickering across her face.

“We gotta go, kiddo,” Jinx says with a sigh, patting her back.

Isha deflates against your shoulder, small hands gripping your jacket. Her excitement, her joy—gone in an instant.

Sevika sees it, too. The hurt in Isha’s expression. The way Jinx looks away, lips pressed into a thin line. And something inside her snaps.

She steps forward, towering over the manager. “Yeah? And what exactly is the reason we need to leave?” Her voice is steady, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

The manager swallows, visibly intimidated. “I—I just think it would be best if—”

“Best for who?” Sevika cuts him off. “We were minding our own damn business.”

His gaze flickers between her and you, then to Isha in your arms, her little brown bear still clutched to her chest. He hesitates, but the damage is done.

Sevika clicks her tongue. “Tch. C’mon, let’s go,” she mutters, turning on her heel.

Jinx nudges Isha. “Keep the bear, kid. They owe you.”

Isha nods hesitantly, tightening her hold on it as the four of you leave.

Surprise Set up:

A week had passed since that incident, and Sevika had mostly put it out of her mind, believing it to be a thing of the past. Little did she know, while she was busy in Piltover handling her Councilor duties, you and the girls had been hard at work planning a little surprise.

While you baked the cake and prepared the dinner, Jinx was in charge of the decorations and Isha sat at the table, her tongue poking out in concentration as she scribbled on a card.

“Isha! The cake is done cooling, do you wanna help me decorate it?” You called out to her.

There was no verbal response—just the rapid pat-pat-pat of Isha’s little feet racing toward the kitchen. She crashed into your legs at full speed, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Whoa—!” You let out a startled yelp, catching yourself on the counter.

“Slow down, you little tornado. Almost made me drop the cake.” She just nods in understanding before grabbing the stool, the one that was exclusively hers since she was the shortest, and drags it over.

You leave Isha to do her own little thing, knowing it’ll be messy but heartfelt. With her focused on the cake, you wandered into the living room to check on Jinx’s progress.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

Jinx had outdone herself—balloons, streamers, and paper hearts covered the room. Candles flickered on various surfaces, their soft glow giving the space a warm, golden hue.

“You seem to really enjoy this, huh?” You nudge Jinx’s shoulder. She chuckles, admitting, “Yeah, its fun to be asked to spice up a room instead of just vandalizing it.” You grinned and pulled her into a quick hug. “It looks amazing. She’s gonna love it.”

Jinx smirked but looked away, pretending not to care too much. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Once everything was set, you plated dinner and let the girls eat even though Sevika wasn’t home yet. You knew better than to wait—whenever she had meetings, she always came home late.

After dinner, you put on a movie, intending to wait up for her. But before it even reached the halfway mark, the three of you had melted into a sleepy pile on the couch—tangled together in a mess of limbs, warmth, and slow breathing.

Sevika’s Arrival:

The front door creaked open softly. Sevika stepped inside, moving quietly in case you and the girls were already asleep. Sometimes, she found you curled up on the couch, waiting for her with a book in hand.

That was what she’d been hoping for.

Instead, what she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Balloons. Candles. Paper hearts covering the walls.

She blinked, wondering if exhaustion was playing tricks on her. But no—it was real.

Slowly, she walked toward the dining table. A full meal sat waiting for her, along with a very wonky-looking cake and a single handmade card.

She already knew whose handiwork the cake was.

With a quiet chuckle, she picked up the card and opened it.

Inside was a drawing—your little makeshift family. Jinx and Isha in the middle, Sevika on the left, you on the right. It was messy, colorful, imperfect, and completely perfect.

At the top, in bold, sloppy handwriting, it read:

Happy Valintinez Day!

Sevika swallowed hard, her chest tightening. Her vision blurred slightly. She hadn’t expected this. Not after the way that stupid Piltover store had turned you all away like you were less. Not after she’d spent years thinking she wasn’t someone people would celebrate, let alone love.

A quiet sniffle escaped her. She tried to muffle it, rubbing at her eyes, but the sound must have woken you.

Blinking groggily, you lifted your head from the couch, scanning the room until your eyes landed on her.

Sevika stood frozen by the table, her back to you, shoulders trembling just slightly.

You nudged the girls off you gently before getting up and walking toward her.

“Hey,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her from behind. “What’s wrong, love? Shitty meeting again?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned around, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed you—soft, slow, and deep.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against yours. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You smiled, brushing away the stray tears that clung to her lashes. “Oh, you big softie,” you teased, tugging her toward the couch. “C’mere.”

You shifted Jinx and Isha just enough to make space, then pulled Sevika down with you. Isha stirred slightly, snuggling into Sevika’s side while Jinx grumbled in her sleep before draping an arm over both of you.

Sevika sighed, her arms instinctively wrapping around the girls, keeping them close.

“I love you guys so much,” she whispered, like it was something sacred. Something she’d never dared say before.

You pressed a kiss to her cheek before resting your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

“We love you too,” you murmured.

Sevika glanced down at the small, sleeping faces tucked against her, at the mess of decorations still scattered around the room. Her heart was full in a way she didn’t think possible.

She pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take her, safe and warm in the only place she’d ever truly belonged.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this T^T. I would've posted this earlier but I had to go to work lol

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY POOKS <3

#arcane #sevika #sevika fanfic #fanfic #sevika x reader #jinx #jinx and isha #sevika and isha #isha is alive #valentines day #happy valentines #arcane fanfic

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heesngirl · 1 day ago

Text

Backstory : You give Heeseung a blowjob for the first time. However, the two of you had been having some entertainment previously.

Note: for a better understanding, it is recommended to read in order (Fever, Be Continued, Lollipop).

- Heeseung ! x MC! reader : established relationship, couple intimacy, light smut, soft scenes, masturbation with panties (allusion). blowjob, cum eating, worship, groping, fantasies, MDNI.

Count : 7K

At this point you no longer had an exact perception of what felt warmer; whether it was the water falling from the shower, or the simple touch of his large hands, moving reverently, tracing the contours and curves of your small, wet body, always so agile at finding those exact points to press on to make you gasp, or hold your breath. The heat was palpable, the steam-fogged glass of the sliding doors were evidence of it.

However, the tiled wall felt icy against your back, the contrast with your body temperature being evident, as he held you firmly pressed, trapping your body with his, while his lips devotedly gave themselves over to wearing down yours with his passionate kisses, and light love bites on your lower lip every time he felt the passion of the moment increasing. He needed a way to remind himself that they really couldn't go any further, not yet.

— Heeseung ~ — you gasped, almost breathless, your body shuddering at the exact moment his lips finally released yours, moving down your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses until they reached your neck. His tongue came into the picture, licking your pulse point before closing his lips around that area, sucking and marking your skin, drawing a soft moan from you in the process.

— If you keep making those pretty sounds… I will definitely forget how my self-control works — he warns, his voice panting and heavy from the contained excitement, and his growing need for you. — I'm torturing myself, having you here like this, while in my mind the dynamic is different. — he adds, smiling slyly and with deep satisfaction at seeing your cheeks blush and the way you bite your lip.

He presses himself against you more, letting you feel the stiffness of his member against your belly, while his hands now grab your ass cheeks, squeezing and kneading them between his fingers, making you shudder in his grip; he wanted to bring you even closer, if that was even possible.

— Baby, we should go out and rest now. — you murmur, clinging with all your strength to the last shred of composure that your being still harbors.

And to emphasize the firmness of your words, you push him away from your body, and get out of the shower first. But it's only a matter of seconds before he follows your steps, helping you wrap your body in a fluffy bathrobe, and then proceeding to cover his body with one as well.

At that moment, he wraps his arms around you, as if your body was the only thing he needed to hold on to in order to maintain balance in the world. With almost unreal ease, he lifts you off the floor, causing a soft gasp to escape your lips as your legs automatically wrap around his waist. The warm touch of his firm hands on the curve of your thighs fills you with a feeling of security that is as familiar as it is addictive.

He leans his face towards you, his lips brushing the damp skin of your neck with the softness of a caress. Each kiss he leaves in his wake is deliberate, as if every inch he travels with his lips is an act of devotion. He ascends slowly, leaving a trail of heat that mixes with the steam of the bathroom until he reaches the curve of your jaw. His breath mingle with yours as he slides a kiss over your cheek, one on the tip of your nose, and finally, on your lips. It is a slow kiss, charged with emotion.

He moves around the bathroom with measured steps, holding you with the same care with which an artist handles his most precious work. When he finally sets you down on the sink, the coldness of the material contrasts with the warmth emanating from your skin, but it's not enough to divert your attention from him. His hands remain on your waist for a moment longer, his thumbs tracing soft circles as if he couldn't let go of that contact.

— Stay here for a moment. — he murmurs, his voice low, still imbued with that sweetness that seems to be exclusive to you.

You watch him move around the bathroom while he grabs a towel, and you can't help but let a soft laugh escape your lips, a laugh that resonates warmly in the small space. When he returns, he looks at you with a mix of curiosity and tenderness.

— Why are you laughing? — he asks, slightly arching an eyebrow as he approaches to stand in front of you.

— It's weird... — you admit between stifled laughs, your eyes radiating with amusement and excitement. — Despite the time that's passed, I'm still not used to you pampering me like this.

He smiles, a small smile but enough to quicken your pulse. He leans his face down to place a fleeting kiss on your shoulder before answering,

— Baby girl, you should be by now, it’s something I like to do when you let me. — he replies, his tone as light as the way his fingers wrap the towel around your hair. With patient movements, he begins to dry it, as if this were a simple matter.

You close your eyes for a moment, allowing the warmth of the situation to envelop you, and when you open them again, you meet his gaze. Seeing in his eyes a perfect reflection of everything you share: intimacy, complicity, and something deeper that you are just beginning to understand.

When he finishes, he hands you the towel with a lopsided smile.

— Your turn, gorgeous. — he says, leaning slightly to be at your height, as if he were challenging you to return the gesture.

Without hesitation, you take the towel while giving him a look that is a combination of tenderness and mischief. He approaches you and you begin to dry his hair, your movements careful but firm, enjoying every moment. Heeseung closes his eyes, and a low, satisfied hum escapes his throat, a sound so unexpected that you can’t help but laugh.

— I could get used to this. — he murmurs, his voice muffled by the towel now resting between your fingers.

— Is that how spoiled you want to be? — you tease, leaning in a little to observe his face from closer, noticing how his lips curve slightly into a smile of pure satisfaction.

— More than you imagine, I like the idea of being a spoiled boyfriend, it feels good to be cared for and loved by you. — he declares softly, his eyes opening to meet yours. There's something in his gaze that makes you feel exposed, as if he can see beyond what you're able to express in words.

Your hands pause momentarily as his eyes catch yours, creating a silence full of meaning. You don't need to speak to know what you both feel, but still, you break the silence with a whisper.

— I like how we're moving forward together. This... what we're building, it feels so good, so right.

Heeseung smiles, a warm, genuine smile that lights up his face in a way that takes your breath away. His fingers find yours, lacing them together delicately.

— It’s because it is. Baby, you make this all so special. — he replies firmly, his voice a whisper that resonates deep in your chest.

You lean in to give him a soft kiss. The moment is perfect, full of warmth and complicity, an exact manifestation of who you are together.

After that intimate and meaningful moment, you both leave the bathroom. The transition to the bedroom is silent, almost contemplative. As you enter the room, the lingering heat and thick air hit you full on, mixing with the unmistakable scent of your combined fluids and the sweat accumulated from the previous acts. The chaos was evident: both of their clothes scattered on the floor, the bed in a mess with the sheets wrinkled and thrown away, and Heeseung's birthday presents relegated to the edge of the bed, almost forgotten.

They both looked around the scene before meeting eyes, and although the blush on your cheeks tried to give you away, his slight smile confirmed it: neither of them could deny what had happened there or hide the chaos they had left behind. But, as always, Heeseung was quick to act as if everything was normal. Without even hesitating, he lay down on the unmade bed, with the bathrobe barely covering him and revealing his naked body.

— Well, you can't sleep here anymore. — he said with total aplomb, letting one arm fall behind his head as he adjusted himself to see you better. — It smells too much like sex.

— Oh, really? Don't tell me, I hadn't noticed — you said ironically, rolling your eyes as you picked up your pajama shorts and panties from the floor. The garments were still warm to the touch, which elicited a small sigh of exasperation from you. As you shook them a little and began to put them on, you turned to him. — So, genius, what do you propose?

— Easy, — he replied with that confidence that was so characteristic of him, while raising an eyebrow and giving you a look that almost seemed like a challenge. — Let's go to your room. It's clean, tidy, and definitely doesn't smell like... well, us giving each other body love.

You pursed your lips into a straight line, but you had to admit that he wasn't wrong. Just as you were about to nod, a detail came to your mind. You turned around, holding your pajama top between your fingers, the semen stain evident on the light fabric.

— Wait a minute! — you exclaimed, showing him the garment with a mix of reproach and mockery. — You ruined this, do you know how much I liked it?

The pink color to Heeseung's face as quickly as his expression went from calm to embarrassed. He sat up a little, scratching the back of his neck as he let out a nervous laugh that was impossible to contain.

— Well… it wasn't exactly intentional — he said, although his apologetic smile didn't help much. — But, if it helps, you can take something from my suitcase. Whatever you want, a t-shirt, a hoodie, whatever you need. Consider it my way of making it up to you.

You watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment before letting out a sigh, shaking your head in resignation. At least it was a reasonable solution. When you finished adjusting your panties and shorts, you headed over to his luggage and started rummaging through his things.

Your fingers stopped as they brushed against a small bag hidden among his belongings. The plastic texture was different from the rest, and immediately a strong, familiar smell reached your nostrils. That scent was impossible to ignore; it was the same one that had permeated the room moments ago. Without thinking too much, you opened the bag. What you found inside froze you for an instant: a pair of your panties, Cinnamoroll's, with their feminine and delicate print. But now they were dirty, clearly impregnated with Heeseung's fluids.

It took you a few seconds to process it, the shock mixing with a wave of disbelief and, to your surprise, some curiosity. You slammed the bag shut and turned to him, holding it in your hand. Heeseung, noticing your expression, took a couple of seconds to connect the dots. But when he did, his eyes widened, and heat flooded his cheeks again.

— Babe, I… I can explain. — he said hurriedly, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender that only accentuated his nervousness.

— You better be. — you replied, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms as you watched him. The situation was so absurd that you didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or hit him.

You gaze remained fixed on him, noticing how his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed hard, obviously nervous. Heeseung tried to take a step towards you, one hand raised in a pleading gesture, but you backed away, keeping the bag out of his reach.

— Don't even try it, Lee Heeseung. — your words came out firmly, but loaded with a mix of disbelief and suppressed curiosity. You couldn't deny that the situation had you completely baffled.

He sighed, momentarily giving up knowing that there was no way to avoid the conversation. He ran a hand through his damp hair, ruffling it even more, and the shine of his freshly bathed skin caught your attention for a second. He looked so damn attractive, with the loose robe revealing his marked collarbones and a hint of the natural tone of his chest. But it wasn't the time to distract you, not when you were trying to maintain a stern face.

— Okay, okay... I'll explain it to you — he said at last, raising both hands as if he were being arrested. However, his face was still tinged with an obvious blush that made him look as vulnerable as he was guilty. — But I need you to know that... it wasn't on purpose. Well, yes it was, but not in a bad way, you know...

Your eyebrows rose, and your lips curved into a thin line as you waited for him to continue. But Heeseung seemed to be gathering the courage to do so. He took a few steps back and plopped down on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor.

— After what happened between us, or, well, what almost happened, you… you left, — his eyes seemed to search yours, looking for some sign of understanding, but he only found the same expectation that kept him on edge. — You left me there, in the bathroom, and when I came out, you were gone.

— And what did you expect? — you defended yourself, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to keep control of the situation. — I had things to do.

— Things to do? — he repeated, letting out a sarcastic laugh as he shook his head. — Like practically sleeping with Jungwon and Jake's girlfriend, letting me… — his voice cut off, but the meaning was clear in the way he clenched his jaw. — You left me hard, sore, and completely fucked. Gorgeous... do you have any idea what that means?

His frankness took you by surprise, and although your first reaction was to cross your arms even more, trying to hide how his words had made your cheeks heat up, you couldn't help a spark of curiosity running through your body.

— It's not my fault you can't control yourself. — you finally answered, although your tone sounded more defensive than you intended.

— Control myself? — he replied, getting up and taking a step closer to you, this time with a much more serious look. — Baby, after having you sitting on my face, moaning and shaking in the most perfect way possible, how the hell did you expect me to control myself?

His confession hit you like a torrent, and although you tried to remain stoic, you felt an intense heat spreading throughout your body, concentrating especially between your legs.

— That doesn’t explain what you did next. — you insisted, trying to divert the conversation, but he didn’t seem willing to give you a break.

Heeseung sighed deeply, putting his hands on his hips before speaking.

— I was really hard, okay? Painfully hard. And there was no way I could just ignore it, especially after what we were doing. When I was in the bathroom, trying to calm down, I saw something… — he finally admitted, lowering his voice slightly as if he were about to reveal a secret. — Your panties.

Your eyes opened just a little, and your lips parted in an expression that oscillated between disbelief and expectation.

— They were there, among the clothes you left lying around, and… I couldn’t help it, — he confessed, his tone now deeper, loaded with a sincerity that slowly disarmed you. — I took them, put them in my pocket, and…

— And what, Heeseung? — you demanded, your voice barely a murmur, but making clear your insistence on wanting to hear the words come out of his lips.

He took a step closer, close enough for you to feel the warmth of his body. His dark eyes kept you anchored in place as he continued:

— I jerked off with them.

The air seemed to become heavier between you after that abrupt confession, and your fingers tightened a little more around the bag you were holding. Your heart was pounding, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how that affected you.

— So you decided that taking my panties and… using them was the perfect solution. — you reply, keeping the sarcasm in your tone, although something inside you vibrated with a mix of emotions that you didn't know how to handle.

He took a step closer, getting close enough for you to feel his imposing presence.

— I'm not going to apologize for wanting you, babe — he replied firmly, leaning a little towards you as his voice lowered its tone, becoming deeper. — You have no idea how you drive me crazy every time I have you around or even when I don't, you are the very downfall of me. And if this bothers you, I'll do it, but I won't pretend a regret that I don't really feel.

His words hit something deep inside you, and although you wanted to stand firm, the heat that was building in your body betrayed your resolve. Heeseung was chaos in itself, a combination of shamelessness and adoration that left you defenseless.

You couldn't respond immediately, and that silence only served to keep him in his position, his gaze fixed on yours, as if waiting for any signal to continue.

Your silence kept him in suspense, and the tension in the air grew palpable, like a thread about to break. You tried to organize your thoughts, fight against the heat that was beginning to flood your body, and stand firm in the reprimand you felt you had to give him. It was wrong, you knew, and your morals urged you not to overlook his shamelessness, but that voice in your head, small and treacherous, whispered another truth to you; There was a twisted logic to his actions, one you couldn't ignore.

After all, you had neglected him. You had walked away the night before, leaving him in a state you yourself recognized as unsustainable, and though you had carried your own frustration, he had had to deal with his alone the night before. And yet, this very night, he had taken care of you with a devotion that made you shudder at the memory. His fingers, his words, his breath on your skin. It had been pure fire and unbridled. Now, you understood that, despite his pleasure at seeing you surrender to him, he hadn't had the same relief until this moment.

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and his face changed, expectant, searching for any clue in your gestures. You took the bag somewhat clumsily and handed it to him. His eyes narrowed, confused, as he took it slowly, as if he expected you to take it from him again.

— What…? — he started, but you cut him off before he could finish his sentence.

— When you get back to Korea, I expect my panties to be clean… Free of cum — your tone was dry, deliberate, but your words, laden with shameless sensuality, made his eyes widen. Before he could process it, you continued: — And the next time you have such a… desperate need, let me know. I will give you one of my prettiest panties myself so you can do with them whatever you want.

The impact of your words was immediate. Heeseung blinked, his cheeks flushing again, but not like before, not from embarrassment, but from a raw desire that seemed to consume him from within. His confusion gave way to a wide smile, full of satisfaction and something darker.

— Baby girl… — he murmured, his voice hoarse, before taking a step towards you, closing the distance with a determination that made you tremble. One of his hands rose to encircle your neck, his fingers caressing the base of your neck with a firm but deliberately slow touch, as if he wanted to etch every sensation into your skin. — You have no idea what you just did to me. — he whispered, before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but shy. It was possessive, urgent, laden with everything his words couldn’t express. His body pressed against yours, and the heat between the two of you seemed to set fire to every place you touched.

Your hands instinctively sought out his hair, tangling in his dark, messy locks as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing a path that made you lose track of everything else. A low moan escaped his throat as you pushed him back slightly, your nails grazing his neck, but his hold on you didn’t relent. On the contrary, he pulled you even closer, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of parting from you for even a second.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and bright with a mix of desire and fascination. His lips were swollen from the kiss, and his breathing was irregular.

— You’re everything to me, you know that? — he murmured against your mouth, his voice vibrant and full of desire. — No matter what I do, it’s never going to be enough to satisfy what I feel for you.

You didn’t know what to say to him. All you could do was stare at him, unable to control the shudder that ran through your anatomy under his gaze. It wasn’t fair how he managed to disarm you with so little, but you didn’t want him to stop either.

There was a change in atmosphere, something in the way your bodies remained close, but your gazes connected with a different intensity, as if each unspoken word came to life between you. A playful smile appeared on your lips, and with a flirtatious tone, laced with a certain boldness, you dared to break the silence:

— Now that we are being so honest… I also have confessions to make.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, and the sparkle in his eyes intensified. His lips curved into a soft, but intention-laden smile, as he lightly licked his lips, wetting them almost unconsciously. His response was not long in coming; he took your hand with a calm firmness and guided you to the bed, where he sat on the edge and then pulled you up onto it.

— Oh, yeah? — he said, resting his hands on your waist to accommodate you on his lap, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. — Then I want to hear every word.

Your heart began to beat hard, accelerated not only by what you were about to confess, but by the closeness you shared at that moment. Sitting on top of him, his penetrating gaze and the warmth of his hands on your waist had you in a kind of trance. You took a breath, steeling yourself as you noticed how his eyes scanned every detail of your face, expectant.

— Last night… — you began, trying to keep your tone light, although you felt a slight tremor in your voice. He tilted his head, clearly interested, as his hands moved up just barely, as if trying to encourage you to continue. — While I was sitting on your face and you… were eating me out so deliciously.

Heeseung let out a ragged exhale, his eyes widening a little more at your words, but he didn’t interrupt you. His tongue slowly ran across his lips, and his grip on your waist grew firmer, as if he needed that contact to stay focused.

— I couldn’t stop thinking… about what it would be like if I used my mouth to please you.

His pupils dilated slightly, and a tension-laden silence filled the air between you. You could feel his breathing quicken beneath you, his hands now gripping you tightly, as if he was trying to process what you had said. But you weren’t done.

— Even while we were like that… — you continued, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but not stopping. — I was tempted to position myself so we could… do it in sixty-nine, so I could give you a blowjob too.

A slow, lopsided smile began to form on Heeseung's lips, but his eyes never lost that intensity full of wonder and desire.

— And why didn't you? — he finally asked, his voice hoarse, each word vibrating in the space between you.

— I was inhibited… — you admitted, looking away for a moment, although his grip on your waist forced you to stay close to him. — I thought I would seem too perverted for it.

A different gleam crossed his eyes, something between disbelief and pure desire. His tongue slowly slid across his lips, moistening them once more, while his fingers, firm but warm, traced slow lines along your waist, rising just to brush the curve of your back. His low laugh was like a deep murmur that made you shudder, resonating from his chest to your bones.

— Too pervert? — he repeated with a softness that contrasted with the fire evident in his tone, his face approaching yours. His nose brushed your cheek, and you felt the heat of his breath before his lips slid down the line of your jaw, leaving a slow, burning trail. His voice grew huskier as he added. — Baby, if you had done that… I would have lost my fucking mind.

You stayed still on his lap, caught up in the intensity of his touch and his words. His hands traveled with delicious determination, sliding his fingers down your sides, brushing the curve of your hips before stopping just above your thighs. The heat of his skin seemed to burn through the fabric separating them, and your legs seemed to tremble slightly under his grip.

— Do you want to know what I would have done if that were the case? — he asked in a low whisper, leaning into you as his lips trailed down the line of your neck, depositing small bites that he alternated with soft sucks. Each caress was a reminder of how he managed to undo your defenses so easily.

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. The frenzy in his touch was absorbing all of your attention, and your hands instinctively tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as he placed a wet kiss right where your collarbone began. His low moan vibrated against your skin, and the sound was enough to send a shiver through you that seemed to melt any remaining doubt or nervousness in you.

— If you had taken control… — he continued, his voice vibrant and charged with sensuality as he brought one of his hands up to hold the back of your neck, pulling you even closer to him. — I would have let you do everything you wanted to me. You would have had me begging, pleading, asking for more.

His confession was such a raw and passionate statement that you couldn’t help but bite your lip, your eyes desperately searching his to confirm what his words had already made clear. There was an unbridled adoration in his gaze, a flame that seemed to consume him completely as his lips sought yours again.

The kiss that followed was anything but restrained. It was as if Heeseung was determined to prove exactly what he felt for you with every brush of his tongue against yours, with every soft bite he left on your bottom lip before he went back to devouring you with kisses. His hands continued to explore you, one caressing the curve of your buttocks inside your pajama shorts, while the other traced slow, circular patterns on your back.

You felt caught in that whirlwind of sensations, as if the world had stopped spinning and only his lips, his hands, and the scorching heat you shared remained. When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your ragged breaths mixing in the space that barely existed between your mouths.

— Never doubt what you can do with me, precious. I am yours, completely yours. — he murmured, his words filled with a surrender that seemed to well up from deep within him. His eyes remained fixed on you, dark and hot as his fingers moved up to tangle in the base of your hair, forcing you to tilt your head slightly so he could kiss your neck once more.

Each kiss, each bite he left on your skin drew a sigh from you, a low moan that seemed to fuel his own frenzy. His lips stopped just below your ear, and his deep, seductive voice sent shivers through you.

— You don’t have to hold back. Ever. Do you know how much I’m honored that you wanted to please me like that? — he whispered, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You bit your lip, struggling not to lose your train of thought as the warmth of his lips continued to turn you on completely.

— Actually… I still want to. Baby… I want to give you a blowjob. — you whispered, your voice shaky but full of determination, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as your fingers brushed the line of his neck.

The movement of his chest stopped for an instant, as if the air had been trapped in his lungs. The blush that colored his cheeks contrasted with the intensity of his eyes, and although you were already so aroused, it seemed like your words had ignited a whole new spark in him.

— You say those things and... How do you expect me to react? — he murmured, burying his face in the hollow between your neck and shoulder, his voice tinged with a desire he tried with difficulty to conceal. His lips settled there, leaving a slow kiss that barely concealed the shudder in his movements.

You could feel the way his cock throbbed and stirred beneath the bathrobe, an insistent touch that did not go unnoticed, especially when you were straddling him, your thighs firmly wedged against his. His heat radiated in waves, and the caresses of his hands on your back only fueled the ardor in you.

— It's really not necessary... — he murmured against your skin, his words accompanied by a soft brush of his fingers that followed the contour of your spine. His voice was deep, thick with excitement, though a hint of shyness still loomed in his tone. — You don’t have to do something like that. Tonight you’ve already given me more than I could ask for.

You knew he was trying to convince you, but the stiffness in his body and the slight panting between his words gave him away. So, without moving from his lap, you leaned your face towards his, taking his chin between your fingers and forcing him to look at you.

— What if I really want to do it? — you asked softly, your tone oscillating between flirtatiousness and a veiled urgency that you didn’t try to hide. — Besides, your birthday isn’t over yet. Don’t you think you deserve an extra gift?

His eyes sparkled with something between bewilderment and surrender as his lips parted, searching for an answer that didn’t come. His hands moved down your back, stopping just at the curve of your hips as he held you firmly against him.

— You’re… you’re dangerous, you know that, right? — he whispered, his voice hoarse and cracked as a crooked smile began to form on his lips.

You took advantage of his moment of weakness, sliding your fingers to the back of his neck and tangling them there, shortening the distance between your bodies even further.

— What can I say? I love my boy so much. — you replied, with a smile that barely hid your intentions.

A flash of debate crossed his eyes, but even in the midst of his apparent resistance, you knew he wasn't going to stop you. His jaw tensed as he closed his eyes for a second, as if trying to regain the control you had already completely taken from him.

— You have no idea how you make me feel… — he confessed as he opened them again, his gaze trapping you and leaving you breathless.

— Then let me show you what I feel — you insisted, your words laden with a mix of determination and pleading. — Let me make you see stars, just like you do with me.

He watched you for a moment longer, as if trying to burn every detail of that moment into his mind. Finally, he let out a sigh, surrendered, and loosened his grip on your hips to slide a hand to your cheek, caressing it with a tenderness that contrasted with the tension in his body.

— Do with me what you want, gorgeous. — he murmured, leaning down to press a slow, deep kiss against your lips, sealing his surrender.

The heat of his words and his touch caused a current of anticipation to run through your body, every fiber of your being igniting with an intensity that only he could provoke. Without a second thought, you gave him one last quick kiss on the lips before sliding off his lap, kneeling between his legs with a determination that further ignited the spark in his eyes.

Heeseung, aware of your intentions, settled himself on the bed, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs to give you the necessary space. His hands moved deliberately to the knot of his robe, slowly undoing it, revealing how his cock already stood erect against his abdomen, the tip glistening with the precum that was beginning to ooze out.

The sight made your cheeks flush red, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away. There was something hypnotic about the way his body reacted to you, how every fiber of his being seemed to vibrate with anticipation under your gaze. He let out a low, slightly embarrassed laugh as he began to slide his hand down his own length, pumping slowly.

— Don’t look at me like that… — he murmured, his voice husky, a tinge of amusement mixed with desire. — You’ll make me cum before you even start.

A mischievous smile curved your lips, and in one fluid movement, you pushed his hand away, replacing it with your own. His eyes darkened as he felt the direct contact of your fingers, your warm palm closing around him. The sensation of his size filling your hand made you gulp, noticing how he seemed to bulge in your grip.

You began to move slowly, pumping up and down as your lips gently rested on his member, leaving open-mouthed kisses, so much so that he gasped. Your tongue, timid at first, slid out to trace small circles on his warm skin.

— Fuck… — he muttered through clenched teeth, his hands finding their way into your hair, tangling at the base as he watched you with parted lips and uncontrolled breathing. — You’re perfect… it looks so good in your hands, you know?

The intensity of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t stop. If anything, his words prompted you to be bolder. You opened your mouth wider, letting your tongue run down the length of his member before focusing on the glans, tracing every contour, every curve, with a precision that seemed to take his breath away.

A deep moan left his throat as you caught the tip with your lips, sucking gently as your hand continued to work at the base.

— God… yes, just like that… — he said between gasps, his voice heavy with adoration. — You're so amazing… so damn good at this.

The satisfaction of hearing him praise you was a reward in itself, and you hummed against his skin, feeling his body shudder at the vibration. The saltiness of the precum caressed your palate, and you couldn't help but lick it up and taste it with obvious satisfaction.

Heeseung leaned his head back, his eyes closing as his hands gently tightened in your hair, holding it so it couldn't get in the way and hinder the moment. Your movements became firmer, your tongue carefully circling the tip before sliding back along his erection, leaving a wet trail that matched the deep moans escaping his lips.

— You drive me crazy… You're really killing me. — his voice cracked, and the pleading tone that accompanied his words only intensified your determination.

Your gaze briefly rose, meeting his pleasure-clouded eyes. The visual connection, the intensity of his gaze, made you quicken the pace of your hands and suck hard. The feeling of control, the knowledge that you could make him feel this way, ignited something primal in you.

Without hesitation, you slid your lips even lower, letting the warmth and wetness of your mouth envelop him completely. The sensation was overwhelming, each movement of your tongue drawing slow, deliberate circles around the tip before descending down the entire length, making Heeseung’s muscles involuntarily clench beneath you.

He let out a low, husky moan that echoed like a gravelly melody in the room, and his hands tightened their hold on your hair, threading through the strands with a mix of need and adoration. His fingers tugged gently, guiding you as his gaze, dark and heavy with desire, didn’t waver from you.

— Baby… you’re… wonderful. — he whispered haltingly, his words shaking with the effort to maintain control. Each time you moved lower, his breathing became more erratic, his hips barely resisting the urge to move forward.

You felt his body react to your every movement: the small spasms of his legs, the way his abdomen tensed beneath the open robe, and most of all, the constant, throbbing beat of his veins against your tongue. As you increased the pace, letting your tongue and lips work in perfect sync, Heeseung let his head fall back, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that turned into a long moan.

— Damn, gorgeous… — he growled, looking back at you with half-open eyes filled with pure frenzy. — You have me completely fucked.

Your movements didn’t slow down; on the contrary, you seemed to delight in his reaction, increasing the pressure and experimenting with the way you enveloped him, how you teased him, how you made him lose himself. You let your hands complement the work of your mouth, caressing him firmly at the base while your lips focused on the most sensitive part, humming just barely enough for the vibration to run through his entire length.

He practically cursed under his breath, his hands tightening in your hair with a perfect balance between gentleness and urgent desire.

— You're perfect... so perfect for me... Such a good girl. — he murmured, his voice almost breaking with pleasure.

The connection between you was tangible, an electric current that ran through every touch, every look, every sound that escaped his lips. You couldn't help but feel powerful seeing him like this, completely surrendered to you, every fiber of his being trembling under your control.

When you dared to take him even deeper, relaxing your throat as you did so, Heeseung couldn't help but arch slightly, his chest rising and falling in a desperate attempt to catch his breath.

— God... keep going, please... don't stop — he begged, his raspy voice full of vulnerability and pure ecstasy. — I'm so close...

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, a cluster of sensations that only escalated, enveloping you both in a bubble of pleasure that seemed to have no end.

Heeseung’s deep moans filled the room like an echo of pure desperation and ecstasy. You couldn’t help but feel how those sounds set you on fire from within, making every movement of yours become more determined, more devoted. You slowly increased the pace, moving your head with precision, alternating between taking him deep and pulling back just enough to caress him with your tongue. Every inch of his skin against your lips was a trigger, a spark that pushed you to continue, even as you felt the tension in your jaw.

You could sense how his body reacted to every movement: the tremors in his legs, the involuntary arch of his back, the fingers tangled in your hair pulling with a mix of need and lost control. When you risked taking him even deeper, relaxing your throat, his reaction was immediate.

— Ah~… fuck! — he gasped, his voice rough as if the words were stuck in his chest.

You looked down for a second, reveling in the sight before you. His abdomen clenched with every breath, his fingers trembled as they clung to you, and his head was tilted back, exposing his tense neck. That absolute control you had over him filled you with a heady euphoria, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to take him further.

You licked your lips and moved down again, letting your tongue trace a slow, wet path from base to tip. The way he shuddered and murmured your name under his breath made you smile, satisfied, before you caught him between your lips once more. Soon, the sounds of your mouth working over him grew more obscene, wetter, filling the air with something raw, intense, and desperate.

— Baby… I’m gonna cum. — he warned, his voice cracking with pleasure. His hand tried to guide you, tugging on your hair gently to stop you, but you ignored it, focusing even more on pleasing him.

You could feel the veins on his cock pulsing against your tongue, a sensation that only intensified your resolve. You lowered yourself further, sliding down with a mix of patience and fervor, as your saliva pooled at the edges of your lips, slowly dripping down your chin. The wetness of your actions and the desperation in his moans created a crescendo of tension that seemed ready to explode.

When he finally reached the edge, his body tensed completely. His back arched in a sharp movement, his hips instinctively thrust forward, and a deep moan escaped his throat, resonating like an echo loaded with pure release. You felt his hot cum fill your mouth, wave after wave, while his hands gripped tightly into your hair as if that contact was the only thing keeping him anchored to reality.

You didn't pull away immediately. You took your time, letting each throb of his body die down as you held him carefully. Finally, you slowly pulled out, allowing his member to slip from your lips with one last gentle movement. His eyes, dark and laden with exhaustion, met yours, and that visual connection was enough to leave you completely satisfied.

You stood up with deliberate elegance, making sure he didn't miss a second of what you were doing. In one calm motion, you swallowed all of his release, keeping your gaze locked with his, before licking your lips with a triumphant smile.

Heeseung couldn’t do anything but stare at you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to catch his breath. His face was flushed, beads of sweat sliding down his temples, and his lips trembled, as if words weren’t enough to describe what he had just experienced.

You climbed onto the bed with him, sliding over his body until you were face to face. Your lips caught his in a slow, deep kiss, letting the warmth of his mouth mingle with yours. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as his fingers ran over the exposed skin of your back. The kiss grew hungrier, with soft bites and sucks leaving your lips swollen, and his barely contained moans vibrating against your mouth.

When you finally broke apart, you were both panting, foreheads resting against each other. Heeseung raised a shaking hand, caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the moment.

— I don’t know how to thank you for this… — he whispered, his voice still cracking from the effort.

— You don’t have to thank me for anything, — you replied softly, your fingers playing with his damp hair. — I love you, and I loved every second of this. Hearing you, feeling you, seeing you like this… It was perfect.”

He closed his eyes, letting out a satisfied sigh as he held you tightly, his arms around you as if he wanted to protect you from everything. You settled against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his body and the tranquility of the moment.

That peace was short-lived, though. A loud knock on the door broke the stillness, followed by an unmistakable voice that echoed from the other side.

— Hyung! — Jake shouted, his tone laden with mockery and amusement. — Leave your girlfriend and come have fun with us!

Both of your eyes snapped open, and although a frustrated sigh escaped your lips, Heeseung barely moved a muscle, keeping you firmly wrapped in his arms.

— I already said that he had taken a while to show up and ruin the moment for us. — you murmured in annoyance, looking towards the door while shaking your head.

But Heeseung only smiled with that overflowing calmness that characterized him when he was with you. His fingers gently caressed your bare back, calming you with a gesture as simple as it was intimate.

— Just ignore him, — he whispered in a hoarse voice, his warm breath brushing your ear. — Nothing and no one is going to ruin this night with you for me.

He looked at you then, his eyes shining with that mixture of devotion and satisfaction that made the world seem to fade away around him. Carefully, he pulled you against his chest, snuggling you under the covers, completely ignoring Jake’s insistent knocking on the other side of the door.

— Even if everything reeks of sex, I’m not moving from here. — he said, letting out a low, satisfied laugh, the sound vibrating against your skin. — I'm right where I love to be.

You joined in with his laughter, letting the warmth of his body and the safety of his arms envelop you completely. The knocking on the door faded along with the bustle outside, and all that remained was the soft cadence of his breathing mixed with yours. Though the moment had been cut short in the end, neither of you let it affect you. You had shared something unique, something so intimate and special that not even interruptions could erase it.

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4ragon · 3 days ago

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Fic request: new relationship narumitsu, miles and phoenix have just begun living together and miles is reveling in it. Preferably miles pov!

IIIIIIII already got a bit off topic on this prompt but I hope you still like it.

It’s a strange day when Phoenix Wright wakes up first. At least, that’s Miles’s first thought upon opening his eyes to discover the bed empty.

He blinked slowly, rubbing an eye with a thumb as he squinted around the room. Even without his glasses it was clear he was alone, with nary a spike in sight. And, yes, even feeling Phoenix’s side of the bed (Phoenix’s side! What a thought.) the sheets had gone cold.

With a disgruntled grumble, Miles began feeling for his glasses on the bedside table.

It had been a month, so far. A month of their new home. A month of good night kisses, of waking in a tangle of limbs. Which, well, not that Miles exactly enjoyed new things. He was a creature of habit. He liked having his day planned out in advance, of knowing what each day would bring, no surprises.

…which of course begged the question of how he let Phoenix Wright into his life, but, well, now was not the time to think about that. Now was the time to become annoyed.

After all, he’d already worked Phoenix Wright into his schedule, his morning routine. He’d worked hard to fit Phoenix into his daily habits. One: Wake up and pry the man off of him. (This of course adds five minutes to his usual schedule). Two: Feed Pess and let her out into the backyard to relieve herself. Three: Get the bathroom to himself (he had to time this perfectly. They’d had to work incredibly hard to find a bathroom schedule that got him, Phoenix and Trucy enough time to prepare.) Four: Dress, and then ply Phoenix with kisses until he agrees to move. (Another five minutes to his schedule. Phoenix was lucky Miles made time for him.)

It was precise. It was perfect. And now it was ruined.

Miles stepped out into the hallway and was immediately accosted with the smell of frying cholesterol. He blinked, brows drawing together as he glanced around. No one in sight. Even Pess’s dog bed was notably empty.

But when he stepped into the kitchen, everything was made abundantly clear.

“Alright, just one more,” Phoenix grumbled, tearing a piece of bacon off for a trembling Pess. “But we do not tell anyone about this, got it?”

“Wright!”

“ACK!” Phoenix jumped, the rest of the bacon slipping from his grasp and promptly disappearing in a flash of white fur and teeth.

“What on earth are you doing?” Miles asked, arms crossed as Phoenix looked over sheepishly.

“Morning, Miles,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re up early.”

“I’m up early?! I am up at my usual time, thank you very much.”

“...Ah,” said Phoenix, looking toward the clock. “So you are.”

A huff. “Really, Wright, what are you doing attempting to clog my dog’s arteries at six thirty in the—”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Hmm?” And there was a plate being shoved into his hands.

“Here,” Phoenix said. “It’s not much, I, uh, okay I kind of forgot this was coming up, but I had enough to sort of scrounge up something edible. Though don’t judge me on the pancakes, I was trying to make hearts.”

He stared down at the plate. Some misshapen pancakes and bacon stared back. “...Wright…”

“Can you please call me Phoenix?” Phoenix groaned back. “We’re dating, remember? Or did you forget?”

“Forg—That—I—Excuse me?!”

Phoenix laughed. “Don’t look so offended,” he snorted, leaning over and pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Anyway, can you pull out the spray butter and some forks? I forgot.”

Miles glanced down at the plate again. There was something warm in his chest, something fond and exasperated all at once. Only Phoenix Wright could make a break in routine sound so…nice. A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Fine. But we are using real butter, not that monstrosity you keep buying from the store.”

“Miles,” Phoenix groaned.

“Phoenix,” Miles replied, grabbing a stick of butter from the fridge and slipping off toward the kitchen table.

#ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #narumitsu #wrightworth #fanfic

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pleasantspark · 2 days ago

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GAH! WHY THE FUCK CAN'T I COMMENT OR REBLOOOG ON THE NEO-NAZI POST!?!!?!

Well you guys did it, you have restricted my replies to EVERYTHING. Shitting up and sperging and defending blatant neo-nazi rhetoric and shitting up my comments with your complaints ruined any sort of productive conversation.

Instead it resulted in defending or blantly disregarding the seriousness of Shota and Loli and all and all being a spectacle and disrespecting my main wish of not forcing me to repeat myself.

I will clarify.

She has not responded to the allegations and she did TWICE and defended that behavior

If you think its fine because its a character in the movie, and try to pull the "South Park DID IT DEFENSE." you're a idiot, because Viv isn't South Park nor the levels of Sasague Party, she's supposedly a staunch supporter of POC and LGBTQ+ Rights but drew shit that goes against it, thus making her a hypocrite

If you wanted to debate bro me, do it to where you're not adhomeiem me nigga seriously, I am a BLACK POC and I find it annoying most of y'all act brand new because of a accusation she can debunk.

Kiss my ass

VivziePop is never gonna answe, because she already implied her fans were neo-nazis and if she were to address it now, it's too little too late.

She defended the subhuman tweet as them being "exhausted of criticism." Ah yes, because I am exhausted of people saying Cell x Orion is shit so I like a tweet calling an entire group of people from different walks of life (including Jewish heritage) a term that Nazi's used. That's completely fine!!!1!!!

I am only accepting asks for Dragon Ball now, because two people have ruined my day and misconstrued every single point, if you really think she's not a neo-nazi ask her to respond, do it and come back to my profile.

You can still reblog from me but reblogging to start shit or inboxing me to start shit will result in a full scale call out once again starting an infight I am fucking done bringing assessments to a table and having the knee jerk response times of a people who consider these statements and drawings as fine or not enough, y'all niggas need to settle the fuck down and understand that these are allegations and not fucking claims.

Comments are restricted to mutuals and I hope KiwiFarms sees this SHIT. Because I am READY for the Critical Community to get a fucking thread.

Y'all have become an oboros of constant sperging and harassment to the point y'all wanna harass others who try and claim their sides or downright harass others for their involvement with another creator you don't like, you need to all grow the fuck up and block one another.

I am welcoming to this thread because everyone wanna claim I am a POS for one singluar fucking post, this is why I hate this community and I rather die then justifying my claims, she's a fucking neo-nazi and I'd kill myself on this hill for that, she's never gonna change and you need to accept that, instead of living in lala world.

Sorry if I am mad, it's just that those shitting up comment threads been going on for three days with no end.

I am done giving the benefit of the doubt, so if you wanna talk to me about DBZ go ahead, but for now only mutuals can mention and comment, do not drag me into infighting circles or talk shit about me to other critics because you got mad I called a racist and general transphobic woman a neo-nazi. Grow some pairs and learn to grow the fuck up.

I'm leaving this for you guys.

#fuck vivziepop #anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #vivziepop criticism #anti hazbin hotel #anti helluva boss #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical

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benz12313 · 2 days ago

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Love's Surprise Pt. 2 - Ridoc x Reader 🌶️

{Images are not my own}

Summary: You and Ridoc have been dating for months now, and it's your first Valentine's Day together? What does he think about the gifts you have prepared for him? Will you two enjoy yourselves?

Warnings: ‼️(MDNI) 18+ explicit content‼️, smut, oral female receiving, oral male recieving, p in v, smut with feelings, swearing, fem!reader, drug use/smoking churum, aphrodisiac chocolate consumption, established relationship, mating press (but no breeding kink usage), slight dom behavior, use of 'good girl', unprotected sex,

Part 1/2

Authors Note: This took me waaaay too long to write but goddamn was it worth it in the end. I just couldn't stop writing. I could've kept going but nearly 4,000 words is a lot man! I hope you all enjoyed this fic and had a great Valentine's Day! :)

Word Count: 3,917

I hastily locked the door to my room behind us, and Ridoc’s hands squeezed my waist from where he stood between me and my bed, where the remainder of his gifts still laid. At least the ones I wasn’t wearing. I turned in his arms and his mouth was suddenly on mine, as he gently backed me up into my door. His hand moved between my back and the door, making sure it was barely a caress, and effectively caring for my sore back.

My sore back that I’d forgotten was even there, but he hadn’t. No, he never forgot shit like that. Always acutely aware of how I was doing, what injuries I’d sustained. Even minor ones like bruises. My gods, I love this man. I love him. I love him. I love him.

Ever since we’d said it, the thought had consumed me, like I was finally allowed to talk about this grand secret I’d been keeping firmly locked away, even from myself.

He tugged my face closer as he wound a hand through my hair, and slipped his tongue into my mouth. I moaned as he deepened the kiss, and pulled him in, my arms wrapping around his neck as I arched closer. Always closer. I could never seem to be close enough to Ridoc.

“Love,” He panted, voice deeper than before, making my body warm. He detached himself from my mouth, though reluctantly. “Before I totally lose sight of the point of coming up here…” He grinned cockily. “And before I really get my hands on you…what exactly did you want to show me?”

“Well, two go together, and then I have a fourth…more permanent item for you.” I said, suddenly a bit bashful. The first two, I knew he would like, but the fourth? The fourth was definitely more…sentimental. And the fourth was the one I’d have to give him first.

“I’m a little confused but I think I like where this is going.” He chuckled, face softening. “Whatever you’ve got, I’m sure that I’ll like. No need to be nervous Y/N.”

Sometimes I hate that he knows me so well. I sighed before taking his hand and leading him to the bed. Gesturing for him to sit before sliding onto the bed myself and gripping the package box. I took a deep breath and opened it, quickly scanning the items left. The dozen little chocolates, the two churam joints, and then the item I was truly afraid of in this box. The little compass necklace I’d had Violet commission for me.

I delicately took it out, and handed it to him, face quickly turning crimson. He locked eyes with me, a smile creeping onto his face before he opened it, and his jaw went slack. On the inside was us, a remarkable drawing of us anyway, him holding me in his arms. I’d done the picture myself, and it had nearly brought me to tears as I’d seen it in its entirety for the first time. The words ‘To always be able to find your way back home’ were carved in the metal in scrawling cursive.

He let his fingertips gently skim the etching in the metal, and tears formed in the corners of his eyes for a moment, though never spilling out as he just stared. And stared. And stared. My heart began to thump wildly in my chest by the time his eyes met mine again; warmth and love and just happiness oozing from them. “I love you.” His voice cracked, and he fisted the compass, chain dangling, before he surged forward and wrapped me in his arms.

“It’s perfect. I don’t care about whatever else you’ve got in that magic box of yours. This?” He pulled back, gesturing to the compass. “This is perfect. I love how cheesy-“

“Hey!” I protested and he put his finger on my lips, shushing me.

“It is, but it’s so fucking perfect Y/N. But that’s us. I wouldn’t want anything different.” He whispered, before taking it and pulling it over his head, letting it fall onto his chest, a smile pulling at my lips. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“Your welcome Love,” I teased a small bit, using his new nickname. While his cheeks tinted (leaving me smirking), his eyes darkened, narrowing in on me.

“Say that again, and you won’t get to finish giving me your gifts, love.” I bit my lip, trying to fight back the smirk growing on my face. Something he easily clocked, eyes jumping from the box to me. “What else is in there Y/N? Anything good?”

“A few little things.” I said, playing coy, fluttering my eyelashes at him innocently. Something I knew would drive him nuts. “Nothing too special.”

He licked his lips, eyes trained on my mouth, before snapping back up to my own. “Oh?” He asked.

“Just a few aphrodisiac chocolates and some churam, you know, to help us ease into my last gift. After all,” I paused, sending him a quick wink, “I’m feeling very appreciative for your gift, Ridoc.”

“And this last gift you keep mentioning?” He asked, leaning in. I leaned back, out of his reach though, moving off the bed completely as I gathered my courage. The locket was the hard part. This? Giving in to my carnal desires for Ridoc? This was easy compared to baring my soul to him.

I positioned myself in front of him and his hands reached for me, but I swatted them away. “Patience.” He looked ready to argue, but I continued, making him pause. “Give me a minute to undress first, jeez. Gotta let me show you your present after all.”

I didn’t wait for him to respond before I unzipped my flight jacket. Revealing the baby blue lacy bra underneath, with the see-through white top over it, gently sitting on my skin in that delicate way that I knew would drive him mad. He licked his lips hungrily, eyes following my hands as I unzipped my pants before slowly pulling them down my legs, bending over in front of him. Suddenly his eyes were on my breasts, and I tilted my head at him questioningly, teasingly. My lacy panties were the same baby blue color, and nearly as see through as my top was. Once I’d forgone all unnecessary clothes, I stepped forward again, reveling in the quickness in which his hands found my ass and pulled me forward into him.

“Gods, love,” This time was a choked groan as he roughly palmed my ass. I could get used to this nickname, I really could. Every time he said it my core just ached in the most delicious way. “This color, this fabric-“ He kissed across my stomach, the fabric catching between his mouth and my skin, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that I hadn’t expected. “Fuck…it looks so good on you Princess.”

“You like it?” I asked and he smiled widely at me, taking my hand and putting it on his crotch, where his cock jolted with my touch, already more than halfway hard.

“I love it.” He said, “All of it. All of you. Good luck leaving this room for the weekend, because you aren’t going anywhere now.”

I whined. Fucking whined, at his words. Then, without thinking, dropped to my knees between his legs. His mouth fell slack for a split second before his mouth curved into a cocky grin.

“Oh, is that what you want? Me to fuck you senseless this entire weekend? Smoke and play with that pretty pussy you’ve wrapped up so fucking nicely for me? Feed each other chocolates until you’re begging for me to let you cum, over and over and over again?” He gently pushed back my hair out of my face, his thumbs lingering and stroking over my cheeks. “And you wanna kick it all off by shoving my fat cock down your pretty little throat?”

“Yes please.” I whined, rubbing my thighs together for friction, failingly trying to release the tension built there.

“Hands on my thighs please love.” My hands moved quickly, grounding myself in him as he leaned back, grabbing the box, and pulling out the joints and the bag of chocolate before tossing the box on the floor again. His eyes met mine, the dominating side of him shimmering just below the surface of his irises. The side of him I only got to see when it was just the two of us, alone and locked in our room together.

“Colors, you know them right?” He asked and I nodded, but his eyes narrowed. “Words sweet girl. I know you can use them.”

“Green, Orange, Red.” He nodded, but raised his eyebrow, urging me to continue. “Green for good, orange for checking in, and red for stop.”

“Good girl. Now, stick out your tongue. Don’t close your mouth until I tell you to.” He said and I obliged as he pulled a chocolate out of the bag, biting off half and eating it before setting it on my tongue. The chocolate let out a burst of flavor on my tongue, even more so than the s’mores had earlier.

He watched as the chocolate melted, dripping down the sides of my tongue slowly before dripping onto the tops of my breasts. He licked his lips then met my eyes again. “Eat it.” He commanded before leaning down and pulling me close, licking off the chocolate on my boobs as I ate what was left, moans tumbling out of my throat. His arms wrapped around my back, caging me in before letting me go again just as quickly, grateful for my hands still on his thighs steadying me.

He tossed the candy onto the bed and put one of the joints on the side table before pulling a lighter out of his pocket, and sparking it up. Three puffs in and he motioned me forwards, before tapping his finger on my mouth. Shotgunning. We didn’t smoke often, normally just special occasions, but when I showed him this on Christmas Eve he’d gone insane for it.

I pressed my mouth to his, gladly accepting the earthy smoke, letting it fill my lungs as he kissed me. I pulled back when I couldn’t hold it any longer, letting out the now stale remnants of the hit he’d taken. My body went fuzzy, a haze lightly slipping over me as that first wave of calm hit. He pressed the joint to my lips and I sucked in; this hit was more substantial, more raw, and suddenly my mouth was back on Ridoc’s as he gladly accepted my smokey offering. But when he pulled back I wanted more, the aching in my thighs coming back to the forefront of my mind as my attention was brought back to his cock, which looked like it was straining against the fabric of his pants.

“One more hit pretty girl, and a full chocolate, then you can have it, promise.” He teased, and my eyes snapped back up to his to see the playful look he was giving me, though his eyes were lidded now, and his smirk was lazy. Churam always hit him faster than me. He took his hit before passing the joint back to me, and leaning back to retrieve the chocolates again.

I took my hit, savoring it as he got two chocolates and plopped one in his mouth before trading me the other one for the joint. I ate mine as I watched him use his signet to turn the red hot end of the joint go black in an instant, and then swallowed, humming when done. He grinned as I lolled my tongue out, letting him see I’d eaten it. Then his hands moved in a flash, and the next second his pants were at his ankles, his hard shaft resting on his stomach, unable to stand on its own with the weight of him.

“Hands on my thighs Y/N, mouth only this time. Don’t worry, I’ll help you.” He assured, his hands making my hair into a makeshift ponytail, before consolidating it all to his left hand. He leaned back, resting on his right hand before nodding at me. “Go on now, ya’ wanted to suck it so fucking bad? Suck it then Princess.”

I dipped my head, kitten licking the tip, licking a few stripes up the side of him, letting all the drool I’d been swallowing back lube him up. And then I let lose, taking all of him to the back of my throat and gagging around him, and I moaned at the guttural groan he’d released. Then I was bobbing my head up and down, eating up every moan, groan and gasp he gave me, my fingertips eating into his thighs as I lost myself on his cock.

He tasted so good; salty, musky and that little bit that was just Ridoc, in the most delicious way. The way praise just dripped off his tongue with every bob of my head. The way his dick would jump every time I’d take him as deep as I could, itching to just get a little bit deeper. Gods, I would crawl to just lick this mans dick, which is more than I can say for any other before him. Much more. I’m lost in the way he tastes, sounds, and feels beneath me, practically writhing in pleasure as he struggles to stay still. I know he’s holding back, desperately trying to let me lead even though he wants to thrust up into me.

When I looked up I realized he had taken his shirt off, abs glistening in the low light and frost built up on the ends of the curls threatening to block his gorgeous eyes. Good, I’m not the only one losing myself here. His breath was coming out in pants, clouding in front of him before it’d dissipate just as fast. Then, his eyes met mine, and his control slipped as the grip on my hair tightened and he slammed me down, making me take his dick into my mouth in full tears springing to the corners of my eyes as I gagged.

Then he was thrusting up into me, the babble dripping off his tongue letting me know he was close.

“Fuck babe, how is that mouth of yours so fucking good?” Thrust. “Just as good as your pussy, I fucking swear.” Thrust. “Want me to cum down that pretty throat huh?” Thrust. “Fuck, love, you suck me so good.” Thrust. “So good’f’me, letting me fuck you how I please.” Thrust. “Fuck…babe…m’close.” Thrust. “Gods, don’t look at me like that, givin’ me doe eyes like I don’t have my cock down your throat, and giving me those pretty little tears.” Thrust. “Shit- I’m- FUCK!“

He hissed, thrust twice more and stilled as he painted the back of my throat, holding me to the base of him by my hair until he finished cumming and felt me finish swallowing around him, and then pulling me back off his dick hastily. He looked absolutely debauched, chest heaving, hair sticking to his skin and his fingertips were freezing where they’d started lazily stroking my cheeks again. It felt good on my too-hot skin, the aphrodisiac having hit me in full force now, leaving me aching and needing his touch. He licked his lips as he looked down at me, pleasure awash over his features as he scanned me with too-black eyes. He was already completely hard again.

“Fuck, Y/N, get on this bed now,” It was a growled order, not a request, “I need my mouth on you.” He wasn’t waiting though, already pulling me to my feet before him, and I hastily crawled over him and onto the bed, barely laying on my back before his mouth attached to mine. He easily gained dominance, tongue slipping into my mouth as his hands wandered my body, cooling everywhere they touched and sending my pleasure skyrocketing. Perks of being an ice user I guess, you’ve got built in ice fingers when you lose a large amount of control. I definitely wasn’t complaining as his fingers began rubbing over my clothed clit, pulling a gasp from me as his mouth pulled from mine and he looked down to his hand.

“Fuck babe, you’re fucking soaked.” He was right of course, but I was still about to complain, until he kissed down my neck and groaned when he reached my collarbone. “Gods, how are you this wet already?”

“Ridoc please…” I whined through the pleasure he was giving me, which felt so good yet not enough.

“Use your words Princess,” He chided, mouth nipping at my neck.

“Please, I need your-“ I let out a moan when he added pressure, “F-fingers, mouth, anything, just please, it hurts.” I whined again and he leaned back onto his knees, stopping all movement, making me pout.

“You asked so nicely, so good’f’me, always huh?” He mused before settling his head between my thighs and pulling my panties to the side. “My pretty girl asks for what she wants, so well, always such a good girl.” He mused before licking up what slick had collected from his words. He moaned and licked again, the vibrations making the pleasure heighten and leaving me gasping, hands threading into his soft locks as he kitten licked my cunt. “Fingers or tongue beautiful?”

“Both," I gasped and he chuckled darkly, making me clench around nothing.

“That’s my girl. Always so greedy f’me.” He sucked on my clit suddenly and harshly, making me cry out. “Ask and you shall receive Y/N.”

And receive I did. It was all I could do as he descended upon me. Mouth alternating between harshly sucking on my clit and then barely licking, while two of his ice cold fingers pumped into me, starting a punishing pace as he curled and prodded with his fingers, a harsh contrast to the overwhelming warmth of my dripping pussy. It felt so euphoric though, the only thing keeping me here and not on cloud nine were his eyes, dutifully holding my own in their gaze, and watching me absolutely unravel before him.

Between the aphrodisiac setting every nerve alright within me, the churam heightening my pleasure, and then just everything that was Ridoc, absolutely devouring me; the knot of pleasure in my core wound tighter with every second. Everything building, building, building, until I was right on that precipice, waiting for the fall, but never quite tumbling over.

Ridoc knew it too. In fact, the bastard was orchestrating it. Bringing me right there and then cleverly shifting focus, right when he knew I was nearly there, prolonging my pleasure and denying me it in the same breath. He was too skilled, and much too acquainted with my body at this point, not to know exactly what he was doing.

“Ridoc.” I warned, or moaned, not really sure. He hummed, acknowledging my plight but continuing to do as he pleased, bringing me right to the edge before denying me again. “Ridoc, please! Please let me cum, I can’t take anymore!”

“Almost love, you can take a few more.” He said, voice soothing but words near torture. There was no way, I was shaking now, and ready to continue begging for release some more. His eyes softened as they quickly scanned mine. “If you really need it, use your colors.” He reminded me. “Until then though, just a few more.” I nodded but whined anyway when he denied my next three orgasms.

He wrapped an arm around the back of my thigh and pressed down on my stomach, then curled his fingers and sucked harshly on my clit, and then I was cumming. Without warning, so sudden, and making the heat in my body skyrocket until all I could feel was white-hot pleasure as I cried out Ridoc’s name. The only word I could form was his, all I knew was him.

I’d barely come down when he sat up, looking over my body as he sucked his fingers clean. Then he grabbed my hips, and used one of his hands to scoop up my release and pump it over his length, before pulling my underwear to the side again and aligning it with my entrance. He looked as feral as I felt; despite both of us having found release once already, all I could think was more, more, more.

His cheeks were pink, and eyes lidded as he watched himself push inside me before they snapped up to mine when I let out a breathy sigh as the first few inches of him sunk inside me. Loving that first delicious stretch as he slowly, lazily, thrust in and out, sinking in a bit deeper each time, until he’d stilled and completely bottomed out within me.

Full. Complete. Whole. Thats all I could feel beyond pleasure.

Ridoc must’ve too because he rested one hand on my cheek as the other hand wrapped around my back, cradling me. “Fuck Princess, this never gets old.” He whispered against my lips as he began lazily thrusting again, pace slow and savoring. “You’re so tight, and soft, and warm. Fuck, I love you.” He groaned before picking up the pace, slow and lazy thrusts turning hard and punishing. Causing me to cry out and wrap my arms and legs around his back, bringing us closer. Bringing him deeper.

I wanted to say it back, I really did, but I couldn’t with his relentless pace, never giving me a second to breath. With the way he pushed deeper, reaching places only he had ever delved. Taking parts of me only he had ever possessed. Pleasure built until I was gasping, and maybe begging?

I didn’t know what was leaving my mouth exactly, but Ridoc was sweetly smoothing my hair and cooing out something soothing as he continued to fuck me into my mattress without reprieve. Words no longer registered in my brain, just him and this bottomless hunger for pleasure that never seemed to be satisfied.

Not until he’d had enough nonsense and he folded me into the meanest mating press nearly folded in on myself, still thrusting harshly, barely missing a beat, even though I could tell by his shaking hips that he was close. Five thrusts and then I was sent flying over that edge again screaming something I couldn’t understand, absolutely ripped apart by pleasure, tears streaming down my face the moment I came. A few more thrusts and he stilled inside me, warmth filling me as the pleasure dulled into oversensitivity. He released me, but stayed inside as he leaned down and kissed me, before wiping my tears away.

“How are you feeling beautiful?” His voice was soft, like it always was when I began crying from the overwhelm that came with that intense level of pleasure.

“Green.” I gasped out. “But….need….a….break.”

“Me too. Smoke, have some refreshments, then go again?” He asked, before quickly pecking my lips before I could answer.

I nodded. “Yeah. I love you.”

He grinned like the Cheshire Cat, ear to ear and entirely too smug. “I know, you screamed it when you came around my cock. Good thing I love you too, cause that would’ve been embarrassing otherwise.” He gave me another kiss to pacify me. “Now lets refuel, because I’m not nearly done with you yet."

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