Tumgik
#at this rate i might actually write something for this au!
apple--white · 2 years
Text
Empires Magical Girl Au: The side characters or as I like to call them; Cleo, Stress & The Boys
I should say that this story is focused on the girls so I'm going to be keeping the boys pretty minimal in this story. Or at least I they aren't becoming magical girls. I know sad but I want to focus on the lady's they deserve to have a super hero story focused on them.
Cleo: I'm thinking she knows of the girls secret, or at least some of them, and hates it. She is quite protective of her friends. So when one of her best friends are roped into the quiet dangerous occupation of heroism, let's just say she isn't the happiest. Especially when more started joining.
Stress: She might be around the girls just as much as Cleo, but in her case she is completely clueless to there after school activities. Though she is very supportive and even though she doesn't know what's happening she trusts her friends.
The Boys -
Scott: Our resident "friend" of everyone. He's kind to everyone but only the people he truly cares about he considers a true friend. I also took slight inspiration from reality and made him a big fan of the girls, to emulate his love of DND. In fact I would consider him their #1 fan.
Oli: Our resident bard is quite eccentric and our show runner of our b plot! The director of the school play, a job no one knows how he got, drags his assistant director around as much as he can. Who might his assistant director be, well Shelby of course... Yeah Shelby doesn't know why either. Though Oli says he couldn't think of anyone else to be his assistant director.
Jimmy: Lizzy's little half brother! Im thinking he is quite a worry wart over his sister. Especially when he's the one covering for the girls during school hours as the schools hall monitor. Due to their relationship though he doesn't feel it's his place to ask her about it, but that doesn't mean he's not going to try to not find out what's going on.
Fwhip: Gems twin brother, and Sausage's best friend. He too is another worry wart. He's the resident fixer, doesn't matter what it is if its broken he could fix it. So it's a little worrying that he's had to fix up one or two of the girls a few times. It's expressly worrying when it seems they like to go to him first before an adult or the hospital.
Sausage: Pearl's cousin and Fwhip's best friend. Sausage is another resident worry wart though he is more outwardly spoken about his concern. Though he is quick to put a smile on and pretend everythings okay whenever they ask him to stop pressing the matter. So he throws his stressed energy into one other responsibilities. Wether it's taking care of bubbles or one of his many art projects.
Joel: The trusting worried wart. He's Lizzy's best friend, though we know that will change in the future. Joel just wants what's best for her and if she wants to keep secrets he's not going to press her about it. So he focuses on his art projects as well and waits to be a shoulder of support when she needs.
Joey: Look I love Joey and all but I can't see him ever falling for a chick, so I'm deciding right here right now that Katherine was his girlfriend before he knew he was gay. So now their just best friends and happy to help each other out when the other one asks. He is not a worry wart like most of the other boys because he knows Katherine and knows she can take care of herself. So he keeps going as if nothing's wrong.
Pix: The resident lore man! Pix is an aspirin journalist so when a group of super heroes just appeared one day he's not going to let this opportunity go to waist. He starts a blog about them and it quickly becomes most peoples main source of information on the girls and the villains. He is also the one who named each of the girls... That sounds weird, he's the one who gave them their super heroe names.
And that's Zombie, Stress and The Boys! I have a few more things about them but they would be more for a deep dive like post. Anyway next is the villains! Or possibly where the girls get their powers from... Hmm well see.
15 notes · View notes
spicedfink · 8 months
Text
Master List of Clone High fanfics I wrote before Season 3:
Boys Night ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/48332581 ) - Topher/Abe/JFK/Confucius/Gandhi (I don't know why I thought writing a bunch of characters in one scene was a good idea when I hadn't written anything in a while but that's what happened and I'm too scared to read it back and can't bring myself to delete it either) [T]
Proximity ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/48549265/chapters/122461747 ) - Topher/Abe [E]
not much sleeping happens at sleep overs ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/48971239 ) - Topher/Abe (fluff) [T]
Waiting for it ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691948/chapters/122826577 ) - Confucius/Harriet JFK/Joan Topher/Abe Cleo/Frida (2003/2023 swap au) [M]
Hopeless Romantics ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/49142935 ) - Abe/Harriet (I'm the only idiot out here shipping this) [T]
Creepy Nerd Got No Game ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/49037452/chapters/123715741 ) - Topher/JFK/Abe [M]
College Trip ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/49489810 ) - Topher/Abe Joan/Harriet (background Cleo/Frida and Confucius/JFK/Gandhi) [M]
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do about you now ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/49618516 ) - Topher/Abe (Wonderwall) [T]
All Natural ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/50043178/chapters/126360046 ) - Topher/Abe [T]
Van Go Away ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/50293393 ) - Topher/Abe [T]
why would she ever ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/50400943/chapters/127341199 ) - Topher/trans mtf Abe(Abby) [M]
Sleepy Cloney ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/52332880/chapters/132388804 ) - Joan/Harriet Cleo/Frida Confucius/JFK Topher/Abe (Sleeping Beauty/Snow White inspired au) [T]
Not Who He Thought He Was ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/52393084/chapters/132539074 ) - Topher/Abe (Time Travel) [M]
If you know what I mean ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/53285812 ) - Topher/JFK [M]
The Bad Thing ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/53460526 ) - Topher/Abe JFK/Joan [E]
Gal Pals ( https://archiveofourown.org/works/53467591/chapters/135331642 ) - Topher(Tina)/Abe(Abby) (gender swap au) [T]
3 notes · View notes
astersatdawn · 1 year
Text
Nightmares Forged From Fractured Peridots
Relationship: Midoriya Izuku & Sensei | All for One
Rating: Not Rated
Sensei | All for One is Midoriya Hisashi, Bad ending, Izuku has been vaulted, non-consensual (platonic) touch, non-consensual haircut, non-consensual Quirk use, referenced non-consensual drug use
Oneshot (Series) | 8.8k words
What a failure he was. Not able to stop All for One, not able to prevent his own arrest, not able to find his mother or the exit that would let them escape this labyrinth All for One used to trap them. Continuously running in useless circles of conversations with this demon in some desperate attempt to regain control. 
All for One sought a fantasy and deemed all of Izuku’s dreams as illusions in parallel. Izuku hated the tiny part of himself that was scared that those hopes were as futile as All for One insisted they were. 
-
[Or, another day, another failed escape attempt from All for One’s prison, and the consequences that come with Izuku’s failure.]
ao3 link: here
This is a sequel to Brimstone and Emerald Dreams (tumblr/ao3) but it is (probably) not necessary to read that fic before reading this one.
And just like that, it was over again.
He tripped, and then there was a hand wrapped around Izuku’s bicep—it was not a friendly gesture to keep him from falling, but a chain to drag him back to his cell.
“Izuku, what did I say about running in the halls?” All for One chided, maneuvering Izuku to face him as easily as manipulating putty in one’s hands. His other hand clamped onto his other bicep, keeping Izuku firmly in place, even though it was a paralyzing Quirk and not his grip that kept Izuku from running now. “You could get hurt.”
There were plenty of responses he could’ve said to that. He could’ve simply said that it’s too late for that. Izuku could point out the bruises from where his fists pounded against the walls, could point to the dried blood beneath his fingernails and the missing skin from his overly bitten lips. He could point to his own heart, rotting beneath his decaying ribs, or how his flesh sank inward despite how he fought for something more than a bone-brittle existence.
He could even scream about the thunderstorm in his chest, the one that rumbled whenever he was dragged to and fro on a whim, the one that raged when his father spoke of his mother’s treatment, the one that bristled with every patronizing word out of All for One’s mouth, spewing sugar-coated nonsense about the nuclear family he had shattered with his own two hands—how Izuku was always to be his parent’s child, an object to be smothered like he’s nine rather than sixteen.
Assuming he was still sixteen. 
He might be older, he didn’t know. Time is knowledge, and All for One, knowing Izuku is one to protectively cradle every detail close to his chest, would withhold far more than he ever gave, but still led him on with something like the possibility of answers, knowing Izuku would hang off his every word if it meant Izuku could gather one of those sparse fragments.
And All for One had given some answers at first. Not many. Some already known, others new, everything chosen with a meticulousness perfected by time. He’d kept Izuku in stasis as he carried his freshly woken body outside and walked around the barren streets of a city Izuku could not name—the only signs it had been a city once were the abandoned vehicles, the dilapidated storefronts with their half-burnt signs, and the charred scraps of bones and picked at skeletons. 
“I want you to understand where home is now, Izuku. There’s nothing out there for you—nor is there anyone who would accept you as you are, not like me. So stay here. You need to do nothing more than that.”
Maybe everything out there was truly all ashes. Maybe there was nothing, or no one, left for them to find. It was hard to be worried about a what-if when anywhere was better than here—it’s why he had to believe there was something else left out there. A friend, a stranger. Anyone. News to uncover. A sanctuary for two tucked away out of All for One’s sight. A desperation for a better life that kept Izuku running no matter how many times All for One insisted there was nothing better left. The world could not be lost, and their world could not be contained to just this place.  
He wouldn’t let the carefully selected scenery erase his dreams of hope, wouldn’t fall into the trap that was the logic of a megalomaniac man. Giving up on his wishes meant more than giving up on himself. He had to keep trying for the sake of his mother and whoever else still lived and fought another day in All for One’s Japan. 
So the statement “you could get hurt” was the most redundant thing Izuku had heard since he was brought here. It was far too late. Izuku was bruised and bleeding and holding on by the skin of his teeth. 
Telling All for One that truth was out of the question. 
But with the way Izuku was held, unable to move anything but his facial muscles, he knew a response was necessary.
“I know.”
“If you know, then you shouldn’t do it.” All for One sighed. “You’d get hurt less if you just listened to me, Izuku.”
Izuku held back a scoff. It’s obvious All for One wasn’t just referring to running in the halls, or any other prior admonishment for something treated like a childish antic. Ever since Izuku woke up here All for One played up the loving, concerned father as if that’s all it ever was. While he was not wrapped in layers of chains like he had been before, the thinness of his wrists, irregular doses of drugs that kept him even weaker, and the thick walls of the vault did nothing but remind Izuku that, as welcome as he was to be here, this was a prison and not a home, and this place had hurt his family more than enough. 
All for One had implied that obedience—that giving up—would change Izuku’s situation. Claimed that Izuku giving in to every one of All for One’s demands to act as the adoring son would make his quality of life improve, that he would get everything he wanted and that he’d never be in pain again. But Izuku knew better. If he agreed to that he may as well consider himself more corpse than man, for the heart that beat within his chest would no longer be his own. 
If getting more hurt would get him out of here, he would continue to accept that over succumbing to a bleak existence. 
Listening to All for One was not an option—it didn’t matter how frayed the rope Izuku clung to was, all that mattered was getting his mother out, and making sure enough of himself was left to go with her. Letting go—giving up—meant the end.  
He couldn’t give a half-hearted shrug in response, shoulders frozen as they were. Instead, all he did was mumble a quiet “I know.”
“No, you don’t. If you did know that we wouldn’t be here.” All for One’s hands squeezed his arms. “You’re making things far more difficult than they need to be.”
“I know.”
“Do you know how to say anything else?”
“Nothing that I want to tell you, and nothing that you’d listen to.” 
All for One sighed. “You’re proving my point. I’m not your enemy, Izuku. I’m your father—you can trust me.”
“Sure I can,” Izuku muttered, bitterness laced more heavily into his tone than it had been before. 
“What am I going to do with you?” He shook his head. All for One was silent for a long moment. Then he lifted a hand and his fingers were running through Izuku’s hair, curls falling past his chin. “I suppose that can come later. You’re overdue for a haircut.”
“It’s fine—” 
“It’s getting tangled.” All for One tugged on a small tangle to prove his point. “If you’re not going to take care of your hair, you shouldn’t let it get this long.”
Izuku bristled. It’s not like Izuku purposely let it get this unkempt—outside of Izuku’s rebellions, all decisions that should be his were instead ripped away from him. His schedule, from when he ate to when he bathed, were not his to decide. His clothes and appearance were not his to decide. Any tool, be it a comb or a toothbrush, were quickly classified as something Izuku would try and use to help his escape, and thus kept from him. With that structure, Izuku’s only means of managing his hair was with his fingers. 
“I can take care of it.” 
“Clearly not, you’re doing a poor job of it.” All for One ruffled his hair, making it messier than it already was, further empathizing just how much control he exhibited over Izuku’s every choice, or lack thereof. “Come on, let’s get that taken care of.”
Without warning, All for One adjusted his arms and lifted Izuku up. 
“I can walk,” Izuku spat out, unable to kick his way out of the hold. 
“You can, but you don’t need to. I can take care of you.” All for One squeezed Izuku like it was supposed to be a comforting touch. “And considering your display just now, I know you’re not interested in taking a walk.”
“I’ll walk,” Izuku insisted between gritted teeth. 
“And I’ll carry you. I want to take care of you, my little prince.” All for One ran his fingers through Izuku’s hair, passing by the knots that had formed since Izuku’s last struggle to pull them apart, and tilted Izuku’s head towards his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I have too much lost time to make up for.”
Time Izuku would rather spend away from him, but he knew saying that would make All for One more unbearable than he already was. Every touch kept his hairs standing on end, the stone in his stomach sinking deeper than it already was. Already, Izuku was sick of it, and it had only been a few minutes. Every disagreement seemed to increase All for One’s clinginess, and considering Izuku had an unwanted haircut coming up, Izuku knew he was nearing his limit of coddling before he said something that would get him a worse punishment than usual. He couldn’t risk losing too many windows of opportunity, not when they were already so limited.  
Tartarus had been a kinder place to him if only because it kept him out of All for One’s clutches for a while, even if that proved to not be enough—how long had it been since Izuku first found himself in captivity, struggling and failing to get free and do what needed to be done? 
What a failure he was. Not able to stop All for One, not able to prevent his own arrest, not able to find his mother or the exit that would let them escape this labyrinth All for One used to trap them. Continuously running in useless circles of conversations with this demon in some desperate attempt to regain control. 
All for One sought a fantasy and deemed all of Izuku’s dreams as illusions in parallel. Izuku hated the tiny part of himself that was scared that those hopes were as futile as All for One insisted they were. 
It continued like that for the next few minutes: Izuku, stuck stiff in All for One’s arms, fingers in his hair, silent and stewing in his resentments while All for One acted all merry. They didn’t go to Izuku’s cell, but a hallway not far from it, that Izuku had already inspected through a mixture of his escape attempts and All for One dragging him around. 
Their destination was a small multi-purpose room, shelves stocked with miscellaneous items ranging from hair care products to silverware. On the opposite wall of the door there was a sink, and above it, a mirror that captured the both of them: Izuku, glaring off into the distance, eyebags and pale skin illuminated by sickly lights, matted hair curling just beneath his chin, held tight like a trophy to All for One’s chest, who smiled not with that of deranged madman’s, but with something almost peaceful. 
Izuku would not be surprised if, before, this room had been a torture chamber, considering the centerpiece was a chair with multiple leather straps hanging off of it, which was right next to a miniature surgical table that already had a pair of scissors and a brush on top; even if it hadn’t been, he certainly felt tortured every time he was brought in here like this.
All for One gently set him down in the chair, and began to restrain Izuku. It was done with a practiced hand, one hand deftly tightening straps and buckles around Izuku’s arms, legs, and chest, while the other was still somewhere on Izuku—his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his head—to keep the paralysis Quirk in use. 
When he was done he ruffled Izuku’s hair and let him go. The second Izuku felt his limbs were his own again he tugged at his restraints, pulling up and forward and squirming no more than an inch. 
“It’s cute that you still think you can escape,” All for One cooed. Izuku felt the brush run through his hair, tugging and pulling with rapid strokes.“You’re not leaving unless I let you, Izuku.” 
“I literally just got out without you letting me.”
“No, you didn’t. You left your room, but you didn’t leave.” A yank. A few strokes more, each growing more gentle than the last, before it stopped altogether. He heard All for One set the brush back down on the table before he  walked over to the shelves, and picked up two bottles to compare. “And even if you found your way to the exit, I know you wouldn’t go, not without Inko.”
Izuku’s nails dug into his palm. He wished it wasn’t so obvious, if only if it meant Izuku knew something All for One didn’t. She had to be in this building, All for One had implied as much, and even if it was a lie, Izuku couldn’t take the risk of leaving her behind in this sort of place. Her presence was another cord for All for One to pull, but also a reward to give if Izuku submitted enough for All for One to attempt recreating the sham of a family he so desperately wanted. 
And he had seen her, more than once, since that condition became clear. 
Part of him hated that fact. He had fallen so far that he’d been seen as compliant, and yet, seeing his mother reignited him more than memory ever would. It was hard for those dinners not to, seeing the wariness in her darting eyes, her gentle voice gone mouse-quiet and fragile, resignation a heavy mantle on her shoulders, as playing her part meant she could see Izuku again. The truth of the matter was, as much as she was tether and treat for him, so too was he treat and tether for her. 
Every minute, every word, and every touch, was just another opportunity for both of them to break, and compliance meant falling apart faster—Izuku could only hope that his choice to keep fighting would give her the strength to not give up all the hope she had left. 
“...Where is she?”  
All for One settled on one of the bottles and grabbed a towel before heading back towards Izuku’s side.  
“Do you really think I’m going to tell you that?” The towel flapped out of sight before All for One tucked it around Izuku’s shoulders. “We just established her location is your goal with your escapades, Izuku.” 
From somewhere behind him, he could hear the squeak of a faucet, and then the rush of water splashing against the bottom of the sink. It wasn’t a consistent stream, as he could hear the water shifting as All for One’s hands moved under the water. 
“When will I see her?”
An amused huff. “You should know by now disobedient children don’t get what they want.”
“She’s my mother. If you’re going to discipline me then she should be involved.” 
“And you don’t need to see her for her to be involved, Izuku. You should know parents discuss things without their children.” Abruptly the back of the chair was pulled down, and Izuku’s eyes shut as warm water fell onto his forehead. All for One’s hands were back in Izuku’s hair. Instinctively Izuku tried to pull his head away, only for All for One to drag his head down more firmly into the basin, before using the Quirk to keep Izuku still. “You seem quite desperate to make some sort of progress today. Any particular reason for that?”  
The answer was a contradictory matter: there was a reason, in the same way there wasn’t one at all. A realization had struck him as he lay awake, waiting for the illusive mercy of sleep, that Izuku had no milestones to measure the length of his imprisonment. Izuku did not know when the last time he saw the sun or the stars was. He had no way to count the days, no concept of time—All for One made certain of that; the limited light in his cell never changed, and when his pacing and plotting became tiring Izuku tried to sleep with little way to distinguish between a minute and an hour. He had no clue how much time had passed between his imprisonment in Tartarus and the first day he woke up here—all he had was the memory of passing out in heavy chains in his tiny cell and waking up to the echoing chill of metal walls and the warm hand of a familiar-stranger Izuku never wanted to speak to again.  
All he had were those questions that he gathered and guesswork swirling inside him and melding into a desperate voice that slithered through him. Pick up the pace, his heart had hammered. Every minute here is a minute too long, every minute spent is another you fail to save somebody else, his toes restlessly curled tighter. You’re not supposed to be this useless again, get out, get out, get out, and his guts would spill out between his fidgeting hands, as he uselessly stared at walls for hours and hours as if waiting for sleep or death or salvation despite knowing he was the only one able to fight for it.   
Inaction built up every word, until the rambunctiousness of that inner voice had driven him to do something, anything, to get them one step closer to freedom, to find quiet in the adrenaline that guided him down labyrinthe halls, eager to find something more than fragmented hope. 
And instead he failed again. 
Now that voice was knocking, and despite the many ways All for One had to make Izuku’s body another prison, he could never capture his mind and silence a voice not even Izuku could quell. 
“No,” Izuku replied, and it couldn’t even be considered a lie.
“Nothing at all?” All for One hummed.  “There’s no shame in saying you simply miss your parents.”
“I only have a mother worth missing,” Izuku snapped before he could think. 
The hands in Izuku’s hair froze. Nails dug into his scalp, and a thick glob of horror swelled in his throat. 
He knew this would happen, had known coming into this room was a minefield ready to burst, and yet he walked right onto it anyway. There would be no simple, straight-forward punishment for this, Izuku knew that, too. 
“Oh? Then what about your father, Izuku? What am I worth to you?” 
Panicked eyes stared up at All for One, who stared down at him with a predatory smile and chilling gaze. It made Izuku aware of just how close they were—that if Izuku were anyone else, the hands on his head may have already pierced through his skull, uncaring for the mess that’d be left behind. 
Just as Izuku was desperate for escape from him, so too was All for One desperate for the affection of those he called his. The cost to them did not matter, not if it meant getting what he wanted, and denying him even the illusion of it invited the threat to return and rip away something more to get what he desired.
There had been one time before when Izuku had said something that caused All for One to snap like this. What exactly he had said was an answer left behind somewhere between heavy doses of drugs and darkness, but he knew it was something about All for One not being his father—something that opposed the illusion, and Izuku learned the best tactic was simply avoiding such topics altogether. 
And yet, here he was, implying this man had more value by not being around at all. A perfect contradiction to All for One’s disturbed fantasy.
What did he do here? Did he try to backtrack and appeal to All for One? 
No. He couldn’t—not even if he wanted to. Lies had never been his strong suit, but his honesty was still a fine line to balance. He was already due for an extension of the usual punishment, but now that he was in this more dangerous territory, he knew he could inadvertently drag his mother down with him if he didn’t take even a second to think. 
He didn’t mind digging the hole for himself just a little deeper if it meant making sure his mother stayed out of it.  
“I—mom might disagree, but I wish you never came back.”
Other words boiled in his stomach, words better left in the past Izuku could not completely bury, damning ones he vowed to never say, ones he hated himself for even thinking as he had searched his mind for excuses: I regret having missed you—loving you, thinking you were someone I wanted around. 
“How harsh, Izuku. To think you’d say such a thing after all I’ve done for you.”
“What you’ve done for me?” Izuku snarled. Snapshots of memories flashed across his vision: eager Quirk dissections on the couch after a long day and a mocking voice gleefully recounting a massacre, a warm meal for three with bites taken between chatter and laughter and desecrated cities beyond what they eye could see, birthday wishes that reminded him he wasn’t alone and isolated time lost in cold metal prisons, bedtime stories detailing dragons and sorcerers and suffocating visions of the death featuring people he loved. None of that had ever been for Izuku, no matter how often All for One said it was, no matter what Izuku once believed it to have been. All those resurfaced hurts and sickening thoughts festered within him. “You’ve done nothing, I wish you were a deadbeat—it’d be better if you were dead—”
Izuku’s jaw clamped shut without his permission. The dangerous expression on All for One’s face didn’t twitch, even though Izuku’s forced silence was a response enough that Izuku had not only crossed a line, but barreled far past the cliff’s edge. Without a word he shut the water off and lifted the back of Izuku’s chair back into a sitting position, and Izuku didn’t even have a second to orient himself before he was spun around so that he was face to face with All for One. He took Izuku’s face in his hands, cradled his cheeks and drew his gaze up to meet his. 
“What an unheroic sentiment from you, Izuku.” A chill ran through Izuku, hair standing on end, in response to such a cold voice. A drop of water trickled down his nose and crawled to his chin. “I’d almost be proud, but we don’t wish for death for our family, even in anger. Do you understand me?”
He felt a weight lift off his tongue, though it didn’t feel like less of one, considering it simply sank past his pounding heart and into his stomach instead. “Yes.”
“What was that? I can’t hear you, Izuku.” 
“Yes,” he said louder. Yet All for One’s expression did not shift, and Izuku knew at that moment he was expecting something more: appeasement. Izuku had seen All for One like this once before, only days after Izuku woke up here; once was enough to know it wasn’t worth ignoring again—he’d almost lost his chance for any opening to escape at all. He knew he wouldn’t be so lucky a second time. He was too close to teetering back into the very same darkness he was trying to avoid. One more wrong word, and he knew he’d never see light again.
A shaky inhale, a trembling heart—how useless of it to waver only now. How pathetic it was that he had to grovel at all, to cave into demands he had been clawing against not even a minute before. A hurried exhale—again, again—not fast enough as thumbs rubbed into bone. A desperate gulp—it was all simply another heavy stone to swallow. 
“Yes, dad. I’m sorry.”
How quiet those words were, syllables ashes on his tongue. The inflection probably didn’t matter—in the end, it was just another victory for All for One. Words had power, and for all the defiance Izuku could spout, if he was forced to kneel long enough to keep himself afloat, All for One would consider it another step closer to the obedient puppet All for One wanted him to be.
The strings dictating Izuku’s life were not all his to control anymore—one by one All for One plucked at the cords that created Izuku’s core, and as much as they vibrated with resistance, one day, Izuku suspected, All for One would be fed up because, as much as he tried, Izuku would never be what All for One so wished him to be. 
Izuku could not be here when that patience snapped. He’d already poked at the edges of it, and he was scared to find out what would happen to Izuku and his mother when he couldn’t bounce back. Yet, there was no telling how long All for One’s patience would last—while All for One was ancient, even he could not be forever patient, not when Izuku’s lifespan was far more limited than his. 
“Very good, Izuku.” The worst of the menacing aura faded, but Izuku knew it still lingered. He’d be walking on a thin tightrope until he was alone in his cell. “Thank you for your apology. You’re forgiven.”
For now went unspoken.
As if a final act of reconciliation, rather than the prize All for One saw it as, All for One held him like he was a pet owner comforting a sodden dog, petting his hair and holding him close. Izuku felt tears rise to his eyes, but these were not tears of relief. 
They were tears for all the things Izuku could never say, for all the pieces of himself he had to neglect to make sure they had a chance at getting out of here, for all of his failures and the mistakes he couldn’t name.
All for One would claim them as his, though. Tears for the regret of harsh words, for an imagined, repeating, grief if he were to leave Izuku again—even if both of them knew that was not the truth. 
They would both dream. All for One dreaming for it to one day be true, Izuku dreaming for the day he and his mother got the freedom they longed for. And in those dreams they lived, clashing and coexisting, determined to achieve their reality, utilizing every tool to reach their goals, and snuffing the other’s out until there was nothing of it left. 
Fingers threaded through his hair, and after minutes too long, All for One let him go. A wistful sigh. “Well, we do need to resume your haircut. I’d rather it doesn’t dry first—unless you have any objections?”
Another test. Izuku’s eyes flickered down to his lap. “...no.”
A doubtful hum.
“I need a haircut,” Izuku murmured. 
“That’s right, my little prince, you do.” In the corner of his eyes Izuku watched All for One pick up the scissors. Something twisted in his stomach—the scissors were less dangerous than All for One’s hands on him, and yet, the sight of something that could so easily be turned into a weapon left him even more unsettled. He wondered if it was because, once, he had been comforted by All for One’s physical affections, or if it was because he’d grown so used to them again; he hated the part of himself that wondered those things—it was the same part of him that didn’t offer another possibility that was kinder to his heart. “I’ll take care of you.”
A sharper twist. Izuku swallowed his tongue, and even though he was restrained but not paralyzed, he didn’t move an inch.
All for One’s movements were slow and thoughtful, but that didn’t keep him from chatting between each snip. 
A question about Izuku’s thoughts on a Quirk theory. Snip. Asking how Izuku enjoyed the book All for One had been reading to him. Snip, snip.  A harsh, off-handed reference to a hero Izuku admired—nails digging into palm and a clenched jaw. Snip. A quiz on the applications of a gravity Quirk that didn’t feel as theoretical as All for One tried to make it sound; tears bubbling within lowered eyes—a shaky breath as Izuku gave a careful answer. Snip.
Izuku felt a bundle of strands fall onto the back of his palm. Snip. They shook in time with every snip. Snip, snip, snip. His hair was pulled back and his skull jostled with it—the lost hair fell off of his hand and drifted onto the floor, featherlight and free. Snip. A hand on his cheek, the turn of his head. Snip. Up, down, pulled around gently like a little doll. Snip. Snip. 
Hot whirling air in his ear, something running through his hair. A chill as it dissipated. The room seemed to grow colder and colder as All for One kept swiping at his hair. Snip. The circling of a vulture around Izuku as if he were a corpse ripe for the picking. A passing thought spoken aloud Izuku had no response for. Something metallic set down.  
Hands on his cheeks and the edge of breath—they were so warm, but Izuku longed for the cold again. 
“Oh, you look so cute Izuku.” A kiss to his forehead and the ruffling of his hair. All for One moved to stand behind Izuku, one hand curled over his shoulder and the other under his chin nudged his gaze back up. “And so much like your father.” 
Izuku barely recognized himself in that mirror.
His hair was short, just a bit shorter than Izuku had ever let it get. It had always been a deliberate choice to never let it get cut to this length. Even as a child, this short curly hair had reminded him of his father. It may not have been as nightmarish when he was small, but now that Izuku knew more, having the similarities between them so starkly presented made him sick.
He could see the hint of his sharpening jaw, the shape of his eyebrows, the curve of his ear—similarities Izuku could hide when his hair was just a little longer. Before his imprisonment, he’d been considering letting it grow out even more, as if his thick hair could bury his secrets. Now even that choice was ripped away from him, and Izuku was forced to confront the things he never wanted to face.
Ignorance was not an option, not when All for One wanted to engrave this truth into Izuku’s very soul.
“Your father did a great job, didn’t he, Izuku?” 
A prompt, and Izuku knew he couldn’t risk ignoring it. Not after earlier. Bile soured his throat. “Yeah. Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, Izuku.” All for One pat his cheek. Through the reflection Izuku could feel All for One’s unrelenting stare. What All for One saw at that moment, Izuku didn’t know—he didn’t want to know. Whatever delusion All for One saw fulfilled in this moment was one Izuku never wanted to understand. “You’ve had quite the eventful excursion today—it’s time we get you back to your room.”
All for One spun the chair around to face him and then reached for the first of the latches. Izuku remained still as they came undone, one by one. Twitched as the last one came undone, and froze again as he saw All for One’s expression: taunting, expectant—ready to make Izuku’s existence more miserable, even if that’s the last thing All for One would call it. 
Izuku remained seated. 
A hand ruffled his hair, and Izuku flinched at the touch. A light twitch of the lip, but All for One made no comment about it. 
Careful inhale—shaky, quiet, exhale. Izuku’s hands curled into tight fists. How pathetic it felt to be compliant, how much his heart raged and his mind screeched louder the echoes of every error that got him here, but even more clear was the one voice reminding him that if he didn’t leave himself the possibility of opportunity, there would be no chance he would save his mother, let alone himself. He had to get her out of here, no matter what. 
Izuku moved, slowly, eyes on All for One, whose face betrayed nothing, to get out of the chair. Every movement felt like a test, even as Izuku simply stood up before All for One. Not running. Now wasn’t the time to go, even if he wished it was. Even if Izuku wasn’t monitoring his every twitch with such intensity, he would know now would be a poor time to run, even if earlier he would have tried to catch All for One off guard anyway.
Once it was clear Izuku wasn’t running, All for One’s smile grew and he ruffled his hair. Some demented reward—a pat on the back for All for One, a signifier of victory that Izuku had been forced to hand over. Then did nothing else; expectant, again, and this time, Izuku had no guesses as to what.
Izuku shifted on his feet, warily eyeing the space between All for One and the door. There’s no way All for One would let him walk back unsupervised, especially not after the conversation earlier. A step out of line, and Izuku could imagine the dark encroaching on him, the heavy restraints—cold stillness and warm adjustments—the sharp pain in his elbow keeping him half-lucid, and his mother’s crying voice—whatever this was now was the true tipping point.
Don’t mess up. Run. You’ve taken too many risks today—no, not enough. Ignore your instincts. They’re the only thing keeping you both alive and safe. They’ve ruined this attempt. Move, freeze, figure it out, figure it out. 
“Um…” Izuku hated speaking first. Not only was initiating the conversation the last thing Izuku ever wanted to do, but it was inherently a risk. All for One waited for the day Izuku spoke to him of his own free will of mundane things, but when that day was nowhere in Izuku’s foreseen future, it meant more conversational minefields to maneuver than normal. “Was there, uh… something else…?”
The only response was All for One’s poker face—still smiling, not telling if Izuku tipped towards total damnation or his ability to fight another day. 
Izuku hated it, but he hoped he had the right card to play to get the clue he was missing.
“Um… Dad..?” His voice cracked.
“Sorry Izuku, I was simply lost in thought,” he said with absolutely no sincerity, but his tone didn’t sound as menacing as before—Izuku didn’t breathe easy, but he didn’t feel like he was about to be thrown off a cliff. “You’re quite eager to get going, aren’t you?”
“Um…” Sounding eager translated to wanting to get away from All for One, which while undeniably true, was always the wrong thing to say. His brain scrambled for some reasonable excuse. “I… I’m just… tired. Sorry.”
Something flashed behind All for One’s eyes, but before Izuku could decipher its meaning, it was gone.
“Oh why didn’t you say so?” Like it was an invitation, All for One swept Izuku off his feet again. His arm was already out to strike out when he froze, the answer hitting him far later than it should’ve. 
Because of course this was what All for One was after—no matter what Izuku tried, he never let Izuku walk between rooms without restraints that kept him from running, and especially not after any escape attempt. Today, the restraint was All for One himself. He probably only let Izuku get away without directly asking All for One because Izuku called him dad without prompting.
Izuku did not want to decide if asking All for One to carry him or calling him dad was the worse choice of the two. 
With robotic stiffness Izuku lowered his arm, and All for One chuckled. “You seem surprised.”
“It—it was just sudden…” Izuku stared at his twined hands. 
“Hmm. You certainly seem more tired—you’re quieter than usual.” Was that an admonishment or not? Izuku couldn’t tell. He raised his shoulders in a short-lived shrug. All for One adjusted his grip to make Izuku lean closer to him. “We should get you to bed.”
An underlying implication—no meal first. 
It was a minor punishment; it had been an internal debate in the earliest days, to eat the food provided to him or not. It was better than the prison gruel he’d been living off before—sometimes it was even recognizable as his mother’s own cooking, which was something that he couldn’t bring himself to reject regardless of the circumstances—but accepting any of it still felt like some sort of concession, especially when each meal was a roulette wheel of if he’d be taking another dose of drugs Izuku could not name. 
In the end, Izuku knew if he wanted to get the two of them out of here, he needed to build up the strength he lost while in Tartarus, even if the efforts felt futile, and he was, at best, kept at a too-weak baseline. 
It also meant this would likely get back to his mother, and he knew she hated seeing him hurt himself in that way. It hurt her emotionally, and made Izuku feel guilty when he hadn’t before—a small, but effective punishment. He could feel that guilt settling in his stomach now, his mother’s face on the forefront of his mind.
“Okay,” he murmured, even quieter, trying to sound more tired than he felt. 
Maybe this was the best outcome of the day’s events. While he made far too many mistakes today, it seemed  All for One might be leaving him alone sooner than he would’ve had Izuku not made such a massive blunder. 
All for One still filled the silence as they made their way back. Izuku was careful with his responses, slower—easily explained with the cover he’d given himself earlier. It didn't take long before the door to his cell opened again, and he was once again back at where he started.  
All for One set him on the bed in the corner of the room, and took his time to tuck Izuku in like he was a toddler again. He fidgeted with each movement, but didn’t outright stop it, even as All for One ruffled his hair and Izuku felt the back of his head sink further into his pillow. 
“Um… night..?” 
“Sleep well,” All for One said, giving no hint to what the actual time was.
Izuku closed his eyes, and listened for the sound of All for One leaving.
And waited.
And waited.
He wasn’t leaving, was he?
Izuku tried to keep his breathing even. He knew All for One had seen him asleep, but he’s not going to open his eyes to check if All for One is watching him fall asleep—or just watching him in general. That unsettling feeling creeping over Izuku’s skin was enough of an answer, even if in another scenario someone may have brushed it off as paranoia. 
This wasn’t exactly unusual. He would never get used to the staring; it was uncomfortable as it was normal. 
Worse, he knew All for One knew his status because of Search. Even when he tried to fake it, he’d know if Izuku was really asleep or awake—not like being in either state would change the situation. It truly didn’t matter to All for One, and that may have been the worst part of it all; it never mattered what Izuku did, his existence alone was enough for All for One’s attention to be on Izuku. 
This may have been another punishment in of itself. Izuku would have gotten back up a few minutes after All for One left and started pacing—there were too many pent up feelings inside him to sleep. When he was moving it was easier to focus on what he needed to do next; trying to sleep made it too easy to spiral into the past. 
It was no surprise he didn’t sleep often.
Only when Izuku’s thoughts became so incoherent that they stumbled over themselves did Izuku find himself passing out for unknowable lengths of time. If none of the words inside of him could be understood, there would be no regrets to linger on while he rested. 
All for One staring at him, combined with the restlessness simmering inside of him, meant there was no way Izuku would stop thinking, let alone sleep.
Could he think himself into unconsciousness? Plan and review ideas for future escape attempts with All for One sitting so close to him? Could those ideas get so loud they’d drown out all else—would they consume him if he let them ring loud enough? 
Something ran through his hair and Izuku nearly jumped out of his skin. “Trouble sleeping? Would it help if I sang a lullaby?”
Izuku kept his eyes closed if only so he didn’t glare at All for One. “...if you want.”
The fingers in his hair toyed with his curls as All for One began to sing something low and familiar—something from a collection of vague memories, so distant it was easy to forget. Nightmares hadn’t been strangers, even as a child. From his youth they had clung onto him, never letting go, growing from tigers to monsters with every year that had passed. 
And in those moments, when his weakness was made transparent in the dark, it was not always his mother he ran to.
He remembered a hand in his hair like this, shaking as his fingers sunk into fabric desperate for an anchor. As tightly as he held on, so too was he held, shielded from all other eyes, as Izuku would find comfort in a heartbeat and that low voice that always sang this same rhythm. He’d been so small back then, so small and unknowing, so easy to carry back to his room—”you need to let go of me now, sweetie,” his mother squeezed him as she set him back on the floor. 
He looked up at her, clutching the bottom of her skirt. “But I don’t wanna.”
She laughed, and with such a gentle smile, she spoke, “I think you’ll like what’s out there.”
Izuku glanced toward the door in the distance, soft sunlight peeking beneath the gap in the bottom. The light looked nice, but he couldn’t help but glance back up at his mother. “But what about you?”
“What about me?” 
“I don’t wanna leave mama alone.”
“You won’t be.” She crouched down to meet his eyes. “Because I know you’ll come back after you have some fun, and then the two of us will be together again.” 
Something tugged at his soul, and he looked back towards the door. His tiny fingers began to unfurl, but didn’t let her go. “You won’t be lonely?”
“No.” She smiled. Slowly, he let her go. “Have a good day, Izuku.”
He grabbed the handle, cold beneath his scarred hand. Yet he couldn’t help but look back, find a reason to stay a moment longer, extend this conversation before he was forced to leave her again. “Do I look okay mom?”
His mother shuffled closer, muttering something under her breath as she fixed his tie. “You look great, my little hero. Now get going, or you’ll be late.” 
“Okay, I’m going, I’m going. I’ll come back.” It felt like such a heavy promise, even though he wasn’t going far. 
“I know.” 
He opened the door and stepped into his classroom. Immediately, a group of heads gathered in the far back corner lifted up and met his eyes.
“Deku!” Uraraka waves.
“Midoriya-kun! Please be mindful of the time! You were almost late!” 
“There’s seven minutes before class starts.” 
“That’s two minutes before the five minute bell! Students should arrive at least 30 minutes early—”
“Isn’t that a little overkill prez?” 
Iida launched into a lecture about the merits of arriving early, and while Izuku let the lecture fade into the background, thinking about how much Iida cared about all of them soothed him. He went around the classroom greeting his classmates: smiles and laughter and previous days discussed—Kacchan’s words gruff and dismissive even as he leaned towards the closest conversation to listen, Todoroki’s quiet recollection of his most recent visit to his mother, Uraraka cheerfully recounting a few great sales she and Tsuyu stumbled upon as they wandered the mall the day before, Jirou recommending music to Kaminari and Yaoyorozu leading into a discussion on synesthesia, the updated score for Kirishima and Ojiro’s recent set of arm wrestling matches, another match demanded with Ashido and Hagakure cheering them both on, Satou passing out treats, each uniquely decorated and getting thoughtful compliments and gushing excitement and gratitude from the rest of his classmates.
“I missed this,” the words slipped out of Izuku’s mouth.
“Missed what?” 
“I… I don’t know.” Izuku shook his head. He set a hand above his chest—for such a lovely moment, his heart seemed so still. His fingertips felt so cold, yet his chest, unbeating as it was, felt so warm. Tears slipped out from his eyes, and he brushed it aside, watching it dry on his flesh as if it could give him an answer for why peacefulness felt so foreign. “But… but, I’m here now, so—” 
A startled gasp, a tight tug on his scalp—Izuku scrambled to sit up but his limbs locked in place, his body manipulated by hands that weren’t his. 
His pillow was gone. Instead, his head rested on All for One’s lap, and now he stared up at him, utterly frozen beneath that cold anger that had no origin Izuku could name. 
Yet, as quickly as that anger had appeared, it was gone, and All for One stroked the top of his head as if to heal the lingering aches. “It’s good to see you awake, Izuku.”
He slept? No, of course he had—pieces of the dreams still lingered, even if the gentleness that had tried to hold him was quickly fading into a longing ache paired with a quiet apprehension. But if he had been asleep, what had bothered All for One so much to wake Izuku up so violently?
“While you were asleep, I spent some time contemplating your punishment.” Of course everything before now hadn’t been enough—his teeth clenched, trying to figure out what could be coming, even if the alarm in the back of his mind already told him, if it was coming so suddenly like this, it wasn’t meant to be guessed. “Your sudden bout of tiredness gave me an epiphany, and so I decided that this time, I’d choose your punishment based on a gamble.” 
“A gamble?” Izuku echoed. What sort of gamble would All for One make while he was asleep?
All for One’s hand cradled his cheek, his thumb tracing the dark eyebags beneath Izuku’s lids. “Truthfully, I never liked watching you sleep, Izuku. My time with you was already limited, and even more was taken from me whenever you needed to rest. I had a choice to make when you were younger: did I let you keep a regular sleep cycle, and risk you running away from me as you grew older, or did I trap you within your delusions but knowing you’d physically always be close by? I made my choice, and we’re here now as a consequence of that.” 
Izuku shuddered—had he really been that close to being imprisoned in his own mind as a child? 
Then, a worse thought: there was a reason this was coming up now, and an unsettled dread crept through his veins. 
“But now I realize—neither of those had been the right answer at all. And so, that brings us to my gamble. I wondered how much your dreams changed, my little prince, and so, I decided to find out. Lullaby, Deepened Sleep, Dream Toggler, Gentle Dream, Dream Reader—all of those Quirks to test your subconscious. If they showed something I liked, then I’d keep things as they were before, and pick a different punishment.”
A gamble Izuku was always destined to lose, then. All for One would be the delusional one between the two of them if he had truly expected any other outcome—but maybe, the more likely truth was that All for One knew the outcome of his self-made bet from the start. If he hated his previous decision in hindsight, and found a better solution during the perfect time to implement it, there was no way All for One would pick any other alternative.
Even more violating was the fact that the kindest dream he’s had since he’d arrived was no longer only his to remember. 
Maybe Izuku should be more surprised that his dreams were intruded upon. Yet, with All for One’s obsessive need for control, it was surprising it had taken this long—already, his body was not always his own to move, and sometimes words he never wanted to say were ripped from his throat. So how long would Izuku’s mind be his sole solace from that control? How long did he have before even his every thought was overheard? 
“You’re familiar with the gift I gave your uncle, and I’ve decided I’m going to give you a similar one.”
“A Quirk?” Izuku couldn’t hide the horror in his voice—it was both an inexplicable worst case scenario and one that didn’t make any sense. “You—you can’t get that back, not without—”
Not without taking One for All. 
“I won’t need it until you’re ready, Izuku. Until then, I’d rather you hold onto it—it’s called Sleepless. Its purpose is rather simple: you don’t have to sleep anymore, Izuku—you won’t be able to even when you want to.’
That… that didn’t sound like the worst thing. He may not be able to escape his own thoughts, but more time awake meant more time planning to escape and getting out of here. He had to be missing something—there’s no way it could be that simple. 
“The best part of that Quirk is that, despite the purpose of that Quirk, it doesn’t grant any immunity to sleeping Quirks. You’ll still be able to sleep when I need you to, Izuku.” All for One tapped the skin next to Izuku’s eyeballs. “Maybe with this those eyebags of yours will finally clear up.”
Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed. “When…  when you need me to?”
“That’s right. Unlike before, I can spend all your waking hours with you, and when I have to go away, you can finally sleep. You won’t be able to use that convenient excuse to get out of spending time with your father. We can be together for as long as we want—isn’t that great, Izuku?”
Izuku stared up at him, wide-eyed with horror and rage. Every muscle in his body yelled with desperate need to fight, to resist; his skeleton desperate to rip away from his flesh and bring Izuku’s mutilated body somewhere out of All for One’s reach. But he couldn’t even shake his head, couldn’t even snarl every word trapped within his clogged throat. That demented, gleeful smile peered down at him, fully aware of the turmoil in Izuku’s gut, but eager to achieve an unexpected checkmate. 
Every waking moment spent with All for One, trapped in stasis when he wasn’t. Every expectation of Izuku’s imprisonment had just been turned on its head. Up until now every plot, every attempt, had been made when All for One’s eyes were drawn away from him. Maneuvering around All for One’s moods on a semi-regular basis was difficult, but if he had to spend all his time doing that?
When would he have the time to figure something out? How could he sneak away when All for One would watch his every move more closely than before? 
Izuku hadn’t thought there was a worse punishment than being half-aware in the dark—didn't think this situation could get any worse at all.
All for One’s hand fell over his face, could see the streaks of red light as something shoved its way through Izuku’s flesh, only had one thought as the sickly taste of Sleepless crammed itself into his skull, and its influence spread its roots beneath his eyes.  
He was wrong. 
15 notes · View notes
minisugakoobies · 4 months
Text
Cross My Heart | KMG
Tumblr media
Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy
Word Count: 5.2k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.
Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face
A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅
Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 
Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 
Fucking jet lag got you anyway.
Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.
Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 
So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.
It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 
He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.
It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.
Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 
You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 
Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 
It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-
A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.
Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 
Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 
A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.
Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 
Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 
After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 
You: Can’t sleep
Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up
Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?
You: What?
Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos
Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 
You: Shut up
Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered
You: Oh fuck off
Mingyu: No really, I am
Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad
Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.
You: Idk what you’re talking about
You:  It was an accident
Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 
You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?
Mingyu: I mean yeah
You snort. 
You: You’re ridiculous
Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it
You: I’ll give you that
A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.
When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 
Mingyu: What else will you give me?
And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 
Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”
You: I don’t know
You: What do you want?
Mingyu: What if I say you?
Suddenly you don’t understand words.
You: Why would you say that?
Mingyu: Because it’s my answer
Mingyu: I’m being honest again
You: That’s the jet lag talking
Mingyu: Oh come on
Mingyu: You really don’t know?
You: Know what??
Mingyu: How I feel about you
Is he being serious right now??
You: If this is a joke I don’t get it
Mingyu: Not a joke
Mingyu: Hold on
The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 
Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you
Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.
You: You’re so annoying, oh my god
Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?
Mingyu: Or flirting with me?
You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?
Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know
Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time
You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time
Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you
Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 
You: You’re so dumb
Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?
You: Who said I’m pretending?
Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this
Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad
You: Shut uppppp
Mingyu: Go on, yell at me
Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad
You: No really
You: I can’t stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 
You: What?
Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.
You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.
You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 
Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious
Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 
Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.
You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 
Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?
You: Don’t tease me
Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one
You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  
You: You’re really serious?
Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die
Mingyu: Between your legs
Again you laugh.
You: You’re such an idiot
Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?
You: Like right now??
Mingyu: Why not? 
Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring
Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself
You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 
You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon
In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 
You: I could come over
Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you
Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over
You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.
Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you
What else is there to say to that but -  
You: I’m coming over
Tumblr media
It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 
“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 
“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 
“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 
It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.
He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 
It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 
Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off
He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 
“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 
“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 
“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”
“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 
Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.
But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  
He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “
‘Gyu, please!”
“Please what?” 
He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 
Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 
“I want what you promised me.” 
“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 
“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.
“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 
He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  
“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 
With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 
“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 
Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  
“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 
“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 
You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.
Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 
“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 
He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 
“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 
When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 
“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 
With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.
“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  
Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 
You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 
As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.
“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 
“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 
The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 
If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 
You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 
“‘Gyu, please.” 
At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 
When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 
“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 
Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.
Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 
His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 
“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 
Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 
“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 
And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 
“It’ll be something like this.” 
He withdraws his hand.
“Gyuuuuuu.”
If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 
“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”
You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 
“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 
Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 
Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 
“Kiss me.” 
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.
The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 
“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 
“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”
“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 
Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 
“Pretty… don’t say that….”
“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 
No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.
When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 
“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 
His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”
“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  
His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 
Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.
Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 
“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 
“I might have some ideas.” 
He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.
“Tell me what you want, pre-”
A sharp rap on the door startles you both.
“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 
Tumblr media
If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
4K notes · View notes
jeonstudios · 3 months
Text
dextrocardia | 13
Tumblr media
Dextrocardia. Originally a medical term, but also a way to describe someone who's got their heart in the right place.
"She's been moved to another operation to help out. This pairing is necessary because you'll be undercover as spouses. I know you two can be professional about this."
"What?!" It's Jeongguk's upset voice that sounds, and for once, you share his displeased opinion.
Spouses.
pairing: cop!jk x f detective!reader
genre: undercover cops, fake marriage, e2l au, angst, fluff, (smut?)
word count: 6k
warnings: descriptions of and talk about sa!!
rating: NC-17 – Adults Only
masterlist
part 13/? 
<previous | next>
© dextrocardia is copyright jeonstudios. this fic can not be modified, re-posted, or translated without my permission.
Tumblr media
It keeps raining, and two hours later when it’s hitting the roof in a calm rhythm, you enter the garage through the open door. Rock music sounds from a speaker but it’s overshadowed by the powerful hits of Jeongguk’s gloved hands against the sandbag hanging from the mount. He’s foregone a shirt, his sweat-covered muscles glistening.
“You call that ‘taking it easy?’” you call out, notifying him of your presence.
He stops his punches, turning to face you with his hand steadying the bag.
“Huh?” he questions, chest heaving.
“I said: ‘you call that taking it easy?’”
He smiles, very out of breath. “I didn’t say ‘easy,’ just easier than what I’m used to.”
You shake your head, venturing further into the garage and reaching the bike.
“How do you even get on this thing? It’s so tall?” you wonder skeptically out loud as you trace the black leather seat with your fingers. It’s definitely a lot taller and wider than just an ordinary bicycle.
Jeongguk steps away from the sandbag, loosening the gloves with his teeth as he heads your way, heavy breaths echoing. You follow him with your eyes as he approaches, but instead of demonstrating like you thought he would, he stops behind you.
“Here,” he places his hands under your armpits.
“Oh, no, no, no,” you try to protest, but it’s too late, and you’re already being lifted onto the seat like a three-year-old.
You definitely also feel like a three-year-old because you don’t even try to reach for the handlebars, instead holding onto the little hill in front of the seat. It probably goes without saying that your feet don’t wholly touch the ground.
“We could go for a ride someday if you want?”
You turn your head to look at his grinning face.
“Uh... no.”
“What, you don’t trust me?”
You see the realization of what he just asked flash across his face, but you know it wasn’t how he meant it.
“You don’t seem to value your life very much, no,” you argue, hinting at how he almost died for you.
His face turns relieved, a small smile decorating his lips. “I do. But sometimes, there might be risks I’m willing to take.”
It’s your turn to not know exactly what to say, so you're quick to ask something else instead. You lean forward, actually managing to grab the handlebars somewhat correctly. “Do I look cool?”
Jeongguk’s smile widens, “Absolutely. Even more so if you had the appropriate gear.”
“So… highway patrol? Car or one of these things?”
“One of these things,” he chuckles. “It was exciting, especially car chases really got your blood pumping. Although I think my mom was in a constant state of a heart attack. And the chases didn’t happen that often; most of the time, it was just writing tickets, and I wanted to make more of a difference.”
“Understandable. Your mom, I mean.”
“Yeah. Also, who told you?” he narrows his eyes playfully.
“Jimin. He told me absolutely everything there is to know about you. All your secrets.”
“Nice try; I don’t have any secrets.”
You wonder to yourself how true that really is.
Tumblr media
You’ve managed to keep your mind busy and occupied during the day, but when night time rolls around and the rain has only increased, you’re feeling a little anxious.
Standing outside the door to your room and staring at the handle, you don’t notice Jeongguk.
“You know, I don’t mind you sleeping with me.”
You lift your head, meeting his eyes. He’s shirtless again, looking as if he just came from the kitchen. Should you? Last night was very cozy, and if you're being honest with yourself, you liked it a lot. Probably more than you should. You felt… safer.
You hesitate.
“It’s up to you, but I’ll leave the door open.”
He prepares to leave, but you’re quick to make up your mind.
“No, I, um… I’ll just go and change, first?”
Giving you a soft nod, he leaves for his bedroom.
It takes you five minutes to change into a large t-shirt and some shorts and to wash up, and when you enter through the open door, closing it behind you, Jeongguk is folding a pair of pants to hang over a chair. You won’t pretend that you don’t let your eyes quickly skim over his shirtless body as he moves, your heart skipping a beat or maybe two.
“Is that the ring you wore during the mission?” you ask, watching him turn, first to face you and then to look at the object in question on his nightstand.
“Yeah.”
“Why did you keep it?”
He shrugs as he approaches the other side of the bed, the same side he slept on yesterday. “I don’t know. I wore it, then the hospital put it in one of those bags with my other belongings while they took me into surgery. Took the whole bag home, put the ring there. Didn’t wear it because… well, we’re not married, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”
“Hm, okay,” you accept what sounds like a reasonable explanation.
Jeongguk lifts the duvet, getting into the bed while watching you. “You didn’t keep yours?”
“Don’t know what happened to it, but it was fake and pretty much worthless, so…”
“Ouch,” Jeongguk says, clutching his chest.
“Okay, first of all, you just said we weren’t married. And there was no material worth to it. Second, your heart is on the other side.”
Smoothly–and definitely making you giggle while you follow his lead and get into bed–he switches hands to hold the right side of his chest instead. You guess it’s a learning curve.
“Ouch,” he repeats, “Just tell me if you want a divorce.”
It’s with a big smile that you get comfortable, pulling the white duvet up to your chin as you lay on your side, facing the nightstand.
You feel Jeongguk move around a bit too.
“I think the rain’s gonna let up tomorrow,” he mumbles. “It’s been a while since it was this… persistent.”
“Yeah… Thank you for letting me sleep here. It feels… better to not be alone.”
“It’s no problem; I don’t mind.”
Silence falls after that. You listen to the rhythmic beat of raindrops hitting the roof, trying to slow your breaths and heartbeat enough to fall asleep. Although you don’t feel as anxious anymore, it still doesn’t happen. 
Minute by minute ticks by, and you don’t know if Jeongguk is asleep or not.
“It was raining,” you say, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “That night when we followed a suspect into a hotel bar.”
You take a breath, listening to the silence of the room, half expecting Jeongguk to stop you. But he doesn’t; maybe because he’s asleep? So you continue quietly, revisiting a memory.
“He stayed there for quite a few hours, so we did as well. We were hoping he’d lead us to his brother so we could arrest both of them for arms trafficking. Hoseong ordered us beer, more so for appearances, but still, and we talked while we kept an eye on the man and waited for him to leave. I remember that we talked about another case we’d just solved, and Hoseong was going on and on about how smart he thought I was and how glad he was to have me as his partner. I was smiling ear to ear, thinking that I was so incredibly lucky, getting to work with and learn from someone who truly saw me. When the suspect instead got a room there for the night, we did as well, figuring it would be more comfortable than sitting in the car all night.”
It’s still quiet, but it feels cathartic to get it out, regardless if Jeongguk is awake to hear it or not. While you've unfortunately noticed more similarities between him and Hoseong than you'd like--like their dark, expressive eyes--Jeongguk feels... different.
“We were meant to do shifts, always have the door open just a sliver so we’d notice if he left. We took our jackets off and Hoseong placed his stuff on the bedside table. Since it was summer, I was wearing a t-shirt and a skirt with my gun strapped to my thigh under it, and so I put the gun in the pocket of my jacket. When I turned around… he kissed me. I was caught by surprise, but I… I kissed him back at first because… Well, I loved him. But then I tried to step back to tell him that we really shouldn’t, that we needed to be alert and ready to follow if the suspect left. But he didn’t listen.”
You pause, feeling the pain and the fear from that day all over again, your skin turning cold. There’s movement behind you, and an arm is slowly and gently draped across your middle, grasping your freezing hand. It makes you feel something, peering down at his hand and the tattoos covering his skin. He’s very warm, and he feels like he’s… stable. Like he has roots growing into the ground that makes him unshakeable. Meanwhile, you’re a leaf; at the mercy of everyone and everything. Easy to blow away, to rip to shreds, to stomp flat to the sound of your bones crunching.
“He held my jaw so tight, I couldn’t speak, and he told me that I’d been teasing him all day in the skirt and that I should be happy because he knew that I loved him. Said I should just suck it up and put out. He… ” you go quiet, unsure of how many details you’re willing to relive. 
Does Jeongguk need to know every step you were pushed toward the bed, how he threw you onto it and got on top of you while you fought? How he unzipped his pants and how he violated you? He probably doesn’t.
“He used his handcuffs and cuffed my hands around the metal bed frame. I tried to…. He said he’d kill me if I screamed.” You remember his hushed yet furious voice in your ear, remember knowing how it was going to end, how he’d kill you right then and there.
“I don’t know if he did it at first because he enjoyed it or if he realized right away that he would need to get rid of me, but he put both his hands around my neck and squeezed as hard as he could. I pulled my hands so violently that I dislocated a thumb, but… I got one out. So I tried to stop him, but he was too strong, using all his body weight. My nails on his skin didn’t faze him, and I was losing consciousness. At the very last second–while my vision was turning spotty–I managed to grab the gun from his holster. I aimed it for his thigh and pulled the trigger. He let go. Somehow, I managed to get him off me, and… out of me… but I could barely see or breathe, and there was blood everywhere.
“He swore at me, and I think he tried to get up but couldn’t, so he reached for his phone, and I ran for the door as best I could. But what was I supposed to do? Call the cops? What do you think he was doing? I heard him ask our coworkers for help, and I knew. They were coming to help him. So I stood there, in the hall of a shitty hotel, with no car keys, no phone, and nowhere to go, while his back-up was mere minutes away.
“Then, someone down the hall opened their door. It was a young woman, and she peeked out, looked at me where I stood, a shaky, bloody, wheezy mess, and she came and pulled me inside right before the police exited the elevator. I managed to say that we were all law enforcement, but I didn’t need to tell her that they’d kill me off if they found me because we heard Ryung’s voice through the door, telling the rest to find me and make me… pay.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been as scared as I was when they knocked on her door. She gestured for me to get inside the bathroom, and I did, watching as she pulled a bathrobe around her body, turning most of the lights off and opening the door to pretend like she’d just woken up. I heard them ask for me, and I heard her politely tell them that no, she hadn’t seen a woman or noticed any commotion. But I saw how her hand trembled behind the door, and I thought the whole time that they knew and were just waiting to push their way inside to get me. But they didn’t. Instead, they left. Shaken, she sat with me on the bathroom floor as I cried, and she helped me clean up a bit and loaned me some of her clothes before she helped me to the hospital across the city border. I stayed the night to have my injuries tended to and documented and a kit done, and the next day, I went to that city’s station to file a report. A female officer helped me, and she’s the only one I’ve told most of this stuff to. Well, except for you now, but I take it you read the report? And the station… you weren’t working that day, but it was your station, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” comes a strained mumble, and you feel him hug you just a bit tighter.
You stare at the wall, feeling both anxious and numb. “It changes you, having someone do that to you. All my life, I’ve known, theoretically speaking, that there’s a risk. A man, anywho, anywhere, anytime, can decide that I don’t get to live anymore. But to experience it, to see the intentions in his eyes, and how he’s… deciding… and not being able to do anything about it. It changes you. It’s always there, the feeling of helplessness.” “I…” Sounding like he wants to say something but can’t find the words, Jeongguk lets silence fall again. 
“You don’t know what to say, do you?” you smile a sad smile to yourself. “No.” “It’s alright, you don’t need to say anything, I just thought I’d tell you.”
You feel him move closer while also gently pulling you back toward him. You roll back, finding yourself inches away from him where he lies, head supported by his hand and looking down at you. “I’m just… furious, and frustrated, and I wish so badly that I’d been there to help you. If I had just transferred earlier… maybe I could’ve prevented it, or stopped it, or even just caught him and helped you get your justice. Instead, I came along and made it worse.”
You find yourself so lost in him. In the warmth of his body that’s thawing the entirety of yours, and in his kind brown eyes. You can’t believe he’s the same person who took every chance he could to hurt you as recently as a few months ago. He just… looks so sweet.
Tumblr media
“You know, you look like a little kid when you’re sleeping” you smile, watching Jeongguk slowly open his eyes, looking a little confused. “You’re also always up before me, so I’ve rarely seen you asleep. I’m not really a morning person.”
The moment he comes to properly, he smiles lazily and rolls his eyes half-heartedly. “I’m not a morning person either, actually,” he explains, his voice lower and raspier than usual.
“Then why are you always awake so early?”
He looks at you as if he’s not sure what to say. “Cause… I have… stuff to do?”
“Okay…”
Jeongguk doesn’t address the suspicion in your voice, instead, he stretches his arms over his head. The duvet moves, exposing his chest and the scar to your eyes.
Letting your fingertip hover just above it, you look back at his still very sleepy face. “Did you really never know about your organs being mirrored?”
“No,” he yawns. 
“But… how? Didn’t you ever have your heart and lungs listened to?”
“I did, but apparently, it’s not too much of a different sound. Sure, my heart beat would have sounded a bit fainter from my left side but it’s such a rare condition that there was no real use investigating further. I had a heart that beat in the right rhythm and no other symptoms so that was enough, I guess,” he shrugs.
“Can I listen?” you bite your lip hopefully.
He raises his eyebrows, “To my heart?”
You nod enthusiastically
“Buy me dinner first, why don’t you?”
Rolling your eyes, you feel warm. You meet his gaze and slowly lower your head to his chest while moving your hair out of your face.
His skin feels nice against the side of your face, his chest moving up and down under you slowly, and you hear it. It’s strong, rhythmic, but…
“Are you sure you’re fine, though?” you ask, turning a little more serious, “It’s beating kinda… fast?”
Surely a fit guy like Jeongguk has a slower resting heart rate? 
“You’re also, you know, listening to my heart,” he says, like it’s supposed to mean something?
Wait. Is he… Is he implying that you listening to his heart is making it race? That can’t be true, can it?
You lift your face off of his chest, and for a moment, you’re just looking at each other softly, curiously. His black hair is a little messy, but he looks so warm, and you–.
His phone rings.
Jeongguk sighs but reaches for it where it lies on his nightstand, his eyes widening when he reads the screen. “Shit, I gotta take this.”
He throws the duvet off of him and gets up as he answers the call, and you see him in just his shorts as he disappears out of the room with the phone to his ear.
Following his lead, you rise from the bed, but instead of going wherever Jeongguk disappeared to, you head into your room to throw on a hoodie and some sweatpants. While alone, you take a moment to think about last night. You weren’t actually planning on talking about it. You never have, not in that much detail, although you definitely left some things out. And while it feels… hard, it also feels… better? Or, like you’re at least not too scared of him looking at you weirdly or saying it was your fault. Or even worse, like you opened his eyes how easy it was to render you entirely helpless…
Quietly, you enter the kitchen, spotting Jeongguk standing at the counter with the tray of cupcakes you made together in front of him. He’s wearing a dark green t-shirt now.
He places the phone between his raised shoulder and ear as he peels a wrapper off, “can you ask them to mail copies of the documents to the station? And how did it go, did you manage to reach the mechanic?”
You watch him as he listens to whoever’s on the other side, putting half a cupcake in his mouth. “Mhm, no, no, just book whatever time she’s available. We can meet at the station if she wants to come in or I can go to her. Same for the hotel staff.” 
Is he… looking into your case again? Like, thoroughly following up on all leads and with all possible witnesses? You definitely know it’s not because of what you told him last night; he must’ve decided to do it priorly.
His eyes find you as he listens intently to what the voice has to say. You take a few steps, coming to stand next to him, smiling softly at how cute he looks when he’s multitasking. With one hand, he lifts the other end of the cupcake to you. You take it, watching him as he looks off into the distance absentmindedly. “Alright, thank you.”
You pop the piece into your mouth, chewing it while making a note to definitely bake more.
He ends the call and puts the phone down on the counter. “These are actually really good,” he says, putting his frosting-covered fingertip to his mouth.
You smile, admiring him and all he’s done and is doing for you. A little overcome with emotions, you place your hand on his shirt, pulling it down slowly at the collar and him toward you. He looks curious, but you focus on his lips. Biting your own, you try not to let the fear of rejection win, and you stand on your toes, and you kiss him carefully.
It’s brief, and it’s sweet, and you can’t help but smile when your heels touch the floor again.
“Thank you.”
He blinks, looking happy but surprised.
“What?” you chuckle a little nervously when he doesn’t say anything.
“Nothing. I just… wasn’t sure you actually liked me. Like, at all.”
You tilt your head, listening to him as he continues.
“I know that we kissed that time on the hammock, but we probably weren’t on the same page then, were we? Cause I thought we were, that we were alone and that we had something, but you… you played along because there were people watching, right? You were still acting while I wasn’t.”
You haven’t thought a lot about that moment, embarrassed about what happened and how you reacted, but he’s right. You were acting. You weren’t sure he was, but if he really wasn’t… What were his motives that night?
“Yeah, but you kinda literally took a sword to the heart for me later, and you’ve been really, really kind and sweet to me ever since.”
He grabs another cupcake, chewing a piece of it with a look on his face that tells you he’s… planning something. You wait, expecting him to say something but he just smiles and lifts the other piece to your mouth. Before you can even decide whether to take a bite or not, he nudges the cupcake against your mouth, getting streaks of frosting across your lips.
“What the…”
But he grins, puts the cupcake down, and smiles in a way that lets you know this was exactly what he wanted. Putting his fingers under your chin to lift your head, he leans down to kiss you. You hold your breath, feeling his soft lips against yours again.
He tastes of frosting and racing heart beats, and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are warmer than usual.
“You don’t need to thank me for that.”
And you feel warm, almost ecstatic, but also like you’ve… forgotten something.
Tumblr media
The day after, Jeongguk receives a call that has him hurriedly looking through the house for the keys to his bike, rushing off somewhere after telling you that he’ll probably be back in a few hours. ‘A few hours’ is too vague to really tell you anything, and you’re so used to not asking questions that you don’t think to.
While he’s gone, you decide to start the dishwasher, and you’ve come to learn that Jeongguk always has at least one mug in his office that he’ll keep refilling with coffee way too many times without washing.
Approaching the office, you’re not surprised to see the door to it ajar. It’s rarely closed, and it’s almost like it signifies the transparency between you. Jeongguk doesn’t say much about the case, but it’s not because you can’t know; it’s because he knows you don’t want to know. 
Or didn’t want to know. As you’re standing in the quiet room, his blue mug in your hand, you see a disheveled stack of papers. Usually, you would’ve walked past it, or maybe even re-stacked it neatly before walking past it. 
This time, Hoseong’s name catches your eye. Of course, it’s not weird considering it’s Jeongguk’s main case, but you still find yourself staring at the printed letters. 
Tumblr media
Three hours after he left, Jeongguk unlocks his front door, opening it and stepping inside. He sighs at how the people he despises most on the planet always just seem to slip out of his grasp. But when inside, he finds himself easily letting go of that thought and instead thinking about something that has him smiling to himself.
With his shoes and jacket off, he begins his search, expecting to find you either in the living room or your bedroom and getting confused when you aren’t. He peers inside the kitchen and even puts his head into his own bedroom, almost starting to get worried when you’re nowhere to be seen.
He’s about to visit the second bathroom when he passes his office, seeing movement from within the small sliver in the doorway.
“There you are,” he comments happily as he opens the door wider, looking around and taking a moment to process what he’s seeing. “I almost thought you’d evaporated.”
You look up from the floor, where you’re sitting with a bunch of papers spread out in front of you, Jeongguk’s empty cup beside you.
“These are the ones you’re observing?” you ask, lifting a paper toward him, a pen wedged between your index and middle finger.
He takes it from you, quickly reading a summary of months of hard work. “Mhm.”
“Okay,” you say, looking at another paper in your hand, twirling the pen absentmindedly in your other, “I think I have some suggestions.”
Tumblr media
After spending hours and hours with Jeongguk, having him explain the progress they’ve made and who they’re investigating, you take a step back to look at the post-its on the living room wall. It has all the fugitives’ relatives, their friends, coworkers, neighbors…. everyone. Since neither of the four men have used their card nor phone, they must’ve almost certainly gotten help, but from who?
You sink down onto the soft cushions of Jeongguk’s couch with a tired sigh, reaching for the remote and smiling when there’s a rerun of a zombie movie.
Jeongguk follows your lead, spreading out as well. “You wanna like… hold hands or something? Cause I could do with a good hand-holding.”
You can’t help but let out a laugh, feeling your chest warm from the inside. It’s so easy for him to make you all giddy, forgetting about all of your pains and worries. Or almost all of them, at least.
Still, you nod, and your smile grows when he scoots closer to you and takes your hand in his warm one.
Even as he directs his focus toward the TV, you keep yours on him. On his tired yet still bright, dark eyes, his nose, the faint hollowness under his cheekbones, and his mouth. His hair is just calling out for you to run your fingers through, but you stand your ground, settling for getting to hold his hand. 
“What?” he asks, smiling cheekily at you.
“You asked to hold my hand?” you remind, moving his hand between the two of yours, tracing the veins on the back of it.
“Yeah?”
“It’s cute. You buy flowers and hold hands and open doors.”
Surely, a guy like him can’t exist, right?
“I do. Which reminds me, you were just giving my flowers away?”
He looks at you, faking hurt. Slowly, and with your heart beating hard to nourish the butterflies growing in your stomach, you intertwine your fingers with his. “I didn’t know they were from you; there was never a card or anything.”
“Fine.”
Seemingly accepting your short answer, Jeongguk watches the movie with you for a while in silence, your head coming to rest against the top of his arm. You keep his hand between yours, trying to stay cool despite how being this close to him affects you. There are definitely some sort of butterflies.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about as well?” he mumbles quietly after a while.
“No?”
“At the barbeque, the guy that you were talking to? Who was that? And what did he say?”
You search your mind for a second before it comes back to you; the tall, handsome man who approached you. “I don’t know. He said his name was Haneul, but I don’t think he lived there. I think I heard something about someone having their cousin over or something like that, so I think that was him. Don’t think I saw him again.”
“And what did he say to you? You didn’t look…. very happy.”
You recall the way he felt… off and how he wasted absolutely no time, insulting your husband and offering to take his place. You definitely remember the unfunny feeling of actually wanting to have a rude Jeongguk around just to keep Haneul away.
“Uh, he hit on me.”
“Did you say you were married?”
You scoff. “Yeah, but he didn’t seem to mind. Basically accused you of lacking in bed and offering to take your place in secret.”
“What?” Jeongguk asks, sounding surprised. “He didn’t look that ballsy to me?”
“It was before he saw how intimidating you are.”
“I’m glad it seemed like I scared him off then. If he was bothering you?”
“Yeah…”
“So why didn’t you tell me? When I asked about him? I would’ve kept an even closer eye on you.”
That, you don’t have to search your mind for. You remember very clearly how scared you were that Jeongguk would laugh. Or that he wouldn’t even believe you because after all, why would anyone hit on someone like you? Especially a man who looked like Haneul because creep or not, he was handsome. Like so often, you fill with shame. Embarrassment for who you are and how you look. It’s been surprisingly easy to not focus as much on it, but it will always be at the back of your mind, and this is just a painful reminder.
“I… didn’t think you’d believe me.”
He squeezes your hand, and you hear and feel him sigh sadly. “I’m sorry for being so mean to you and for being such an overall disappointment. I want to think that I sensed that you were scared and that’s why I kept an eye on you after and asked you about it. But I couldn’t even tell that you were afraid of me as well, so I don’t know, honestly.”
“It’s fine…”
“No, it’s not. I guess I hope your future real husband will be better than your fake one,” he jokes in an attempt to lift the mood.
“Oh. I’m not… I don’t think the possibilities of me getting married are very big.”
“Oh? Because you don’t like… men?”
You nearly snort. Honestly, yeah, all of your problems and issues could be summarized into that short sentence.
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not interested in marrying a woman, but I’m not… I’ve never had a relationship of any kind with a man–that went deeper than acquaintances–which didn't leave me hurt in one way or another. And I don’t want to do that anymore.”
“I know you said your dad’s an ass, and I know what happened with Hoseong and us guys at the station, but what… If you want to talk about it, what else…?”
“Who else has hurt me, you mean? It’s complicated, I guess.” 
You look down at your intertwined hands, how Jeongguk’s looks so big between yours. 
You sigh at the memory of how… non mind-blowing your relationships have been so far. Most guys you’ve dated haven’t made even the slightest of efforts for your birthday–if they even remembered it–or to plan dates of any kind after the first honeymoon months. You’ve tried, but with many men, it feels more like they want a live-in maid, who provides sex. It's definitely a conscious effort, how you try not to match Jeongguk to what your younger self dreamed of in a man.
“You remember… at the house? When you said you loved your ex, and I laughed because you’re a man and not capable of love?”
“Yeah.”
“I think that sums it up. My dad didn’t care for my mom or me, he only returned when his new, younger girlfriends–whose bodies weren’t ruined by childbearing–grew tired of his disrespectful, old ass. He knew that she still loved him, and he took advantage of that. I guess I was a little weary around men from a young age after that, but still hopeful that there could be good men out there too. Then I started dating and noticed pretty quickly that… I wasn’t really important like I’d hoped. I wanted dates–even just a picnic in the park occasionally–and I guess I took birthday celebrations–of any kind–for granted. One guy got me a bunch of candy he knew I didn’t like, so he could eat it himself, and another guy entirely forgot it was my birthday even though his was ten days before, and I got him a relatively expensive watch he’d been wanting. One guy did take me out to eat at a pretty nice restaurant, but he was also shamelessly checking out the waitress right in front of me. I saw my friends be treated the same way, and we all just… kept trying. One of my friends was in a relationship for four years, and he was a real sweetheart; made time for her, got her flowers, gave her compliments, all that. Then she discovered he’d been cheating since day one. It wasn’t until Hoseong that I truly decided it wasn’t worth it.”
“You shouldn’t give up hope.”
“It’s easy for you to say, Jeongguk. You’re a man. Your fellow men look out for you and women still care for you. And to be honest… like I said, what happened to me… it’s not something you just move past. Wherever I go, I know that practically every man I meet on the street could decide to hurt me just because he wants to. And it would be up to him, the fate of my entire life is in the hands of every random guy I pass. If he wanted to kill me, there isn’t much I could do. Not only do I know that theoretically speaking, most of them are stronger than me and don’t care what happens to me, but I know the feeling of having it happen.”
“I understand,” he assures softly, squeezing your hand, “I didn’t mean it in a ‘get over it’ way, just that I know there are men out there who would treat you like an equal partner and who would like to do those things you described that you used to want.”
“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know, it just isn’t worth the risk for me. Romantic love isn’t everything.”
There is still a trace of pity in the look he gives you when you smile sadly at him.
Tumblr media
After brushing your teeth and changing into your sleepwear, you find yourself outside the door to your bedroom. The storm has passed, so you definitely should go back to sleeping in your own room.
As if he could read your mind, Jeongguk, on his way to his bedroom, slows down as he passes you. He turns, looks at you and smiles gently as he continues to back toward his door. “You don’t need an excuse, you know? If you want to sleep in your room, that’s fine, but I can’t say I’m not hoping you’ll sleep with me.”
You lift your eyebrows at him, as if to say ‘oh, really?’ He should definitely stop saying ‘sleep with me.’
He shrugs, “I like having you close.”
For half a second, you shut your eyes, realizing you have no defense against him. So you open them, sighing and dropping your shoulders before following him with some species of critter in your stomach. He chuckles.
Tumblr media
<previous | next>
author's note: please let me know if you like it! i feel like this part was really important and it was definitely hard to write because fortunately(!!!) i have not experienced what reader has and while i did my best to portray it how i think someone could react and deal with stuff like this, at the end of the day, i don't actually know and i'd hate if it comes off as wrong or glamorizing in any way. if it does, that is 1000% not my intention. on a lighter note; this is very much a calm before a storm lol
615 notes · View notes
eros7hanatos · 7 months
Text
➽ Falling Grades
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Professor!Dottore x Student!afab reader
Warnings: Teacher-student relationship, modern au, age gap, cockwarming, bribery, smut.
Word count: 1033
A/N: very heavily inspired by a character ai bot and another fic I read, the fic is by actuallysaiyan. She’s a goddess 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️.Even though I don’t play genshin anymore I’m on my knees for this man.
art creds: IllaOhara
Tumblr media
You made a mistake when you decided to be distracted by your phone instead of listening to Dottore’s lecture. Preoccupied by your distraction, the professor’s hand hits your desk with a loud thud, causing you to jump. 
“It seems my lecture on careless students wasn’t clear enough for you.” His voice sent chills down your spine. “Put the phone away.” He said, as he walked back to his desk to continue the lecture.
“And I expect to see you in my office after classes.”
Tumblr media
Soon the day was coming to an end, all your classes being finished. You made your way to Dottore’s office, being located on the highest floor in the building. As you knocked on his office door you bit your lip and took a deep breath. 
“Enter.” You pushed the door open, revealing the messy desk, covered in research papers and was that an ink spill? There were also multiple pictures and diagrams of the human body. Dottore was sitting on his chair, writing something on a piece of paper. “Do you know why I called you into my office, miss?” he asks, finally looking up from his papers. “Because I used my phone?” you answered. What else? He smiles, but it was quickly replaced with a stern and cold look on his face. “You’re partially correct.” he simply says as he then opens a drawer next to him, taking out a small stack of papers. He then takes the most top one, revealing it to you. You almost instantly recognize the paper. He slides you your latest test, the low score clearly written at the front of the paper before continuing to slide you other past tests, all low scores. You were clearly distracted by something too much to focus, your phone was only partially at fault. And Dottore knew that.
“Care to explain these?” You bit inside your mouth. “I’m so sorry. I…I had trouble with the material. I’ll do better next time, I promise.” You say as he lets out a sarcastic laugh, leaning back into his chair. “‘Sorry’ can’t fix everything. We should solve the cause of your dropping grades and I believe I know just what the problem is.” he gets up from his chair and walks towards you, towering over you. Your breath hitched, inhaling the expensive cologne he wore as his body was merely inches away from yours. Suddenly you felt small and trapped. Your heart rate increasing by the second. You weren’t really sure where this conversation was leading, but you really hoped that you wouldn’t have to repeat the year, or at worst, be expelled. You wanted to finish your degree, but who would’ve thought that one of your professors would be so goddamn sexy.
“I know I’m a distraction, miss. It’s written all over your face during my classes.” Dottore says, crossing his arms as he watches your expression turn frantic. “Professor Dottore, I-” you start, now worried that you might actually be expelled. “I didn’t mean to! I’ll…I’ll make it up!” you propose, quickly thinking of a way out. Dottore pauses for a moment, carefully considering your words before grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward. Causing you to nearly crash into his perfectly sculpted chest.You look up into his deep red eyes with pleading eyes.
“Seeing you’re so desperate, I have a few options for you.” His lips curve up into a small smirk as you look up at him with hope and desperation. You prepare yourself for what he’ll say next, but no matter how much preparation you had would make you prepared for this.
“You can either stay after classes every afternoon and study, along with a few other students. Learn a thing or two from your peers. Or,” he paused to give himself a smug grin, “You can sit on my cock while I tutor you myself.”
You swear you fainted for a second or two as soon as he finishes his sentence. He can’t actually be serious, can he? You look at him, cheeks flushed as he looks down and laughs at you once more, amused by the events unfolding in front of him. However you surprise him when you choose to sit on his cock.
And that’s how you ended up with his long length so deep inside you as he explains embryology to you. How ironic. Whenever you whined or tried to move he would slap your thigh and tell you to focus. “Do you understand?” he asks, after he finished his explanations. You slowly nod your head, squirming, causing him to harshly slap your thigh once more, the red spot on your thigh slowly growing in size and in shade. You whine out at the slap, trying to stay still but of no avail. “Do I have to remind you again that this is a punishment and not a prize?” You shake your head, keeping still as you grab the wooden desk in front of you, nails scraping on the wooden surface. You can’t help it. The way your cunt pulses around his length drives you crazy. It felt so good but so torturous without any movement. 
Dottore, on the other hand, was entertained by your reactions. He never expected for you to accept his offer so quickly. He knew you had a crush on him but he’d never guess that you’d be so willing to go this far to have this sort of relationship with him. However, he couldn't deny the fact that having your wet, heat around his cock made him more motivated. 
“That’s all for today.” he said, placing down the papers in his hands once he saw the time. It had already gotten quite late. “Today, you did good, amazing even. If this continues, you’ll improve to a B student in no time. And if you throw in a treat, I might consider bumping your grade up to even an A.” You whined as he thrusted up into you at the word ‘bumping’, your cunt convulsing around his cock once more. 
How could you resist such a good offer? 
Tumblr media
637 notes · View notes
kingofbodyrolls · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
End of the World (m) | myg | teaser
→ Summary: Your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise?  → Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Genres/AUs: science fiction, apocalyptic, survival, co-dependency to stay alive + heavy angst, fluff and smut. → Tropes: strangers to lovers, forced proximity (because love that shit) → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Word count: still writing (approx 10-20k) it’s a one-shot! → Author’s note: hiya. I’m currently writing this apocalyptic story with Yoongi, because… well. I’m fucking scared. So this is me working through and with my fear for something that I’m afraid is actually going to happen. We don’t need to talk about it, because a lot of bad shit is happening all over the world 😭 This is purely a story, though made up by my fears, yeah. Anyway, it’s okay if you’re not into it! The vibe for it is like The Last of Us and maybe a bit Fallout, I think if you enjoy that type of stuff, you’ll enjoy this one too. But it’s really heavy, but there’s a decent amount of fluff to balance it out, because, it’s still a fanfiction and it wouldn’t be that without some good old fluff and smut 🥰
Tumblr media
You know you must move, but before you leave, there’s a promise to fulfill for Yuri.
You relieve yourself and step back onto the road, eyes fixed on the distant horizon that seems miraculously untouched by the ravages of war. That glimmer of hope pulls you forward. You have to reach it. No matter the distance, no matter the obstacles, you must get there. 
It’s your only chance.
You walk and walk—days blur into weeks. Your clothes hang off your frame, tattered and too big. Bombings have become a constant backdrop, each explosion a distant rumble you barely acknowledge. The earth’s violent shudders no longer faze you. Hunger gnaws at you, a relentless companion, its grip tightening until you can’t even remember your last meal. Water, your only steadfast ally, has kept you moving; without it, you’d have long since fallen.
You trudge along the desolate highway, the city a distant speck on the horizon behind you. You have no sense of how far you’ve traveled, only that the remnants of your home have shrunk to a mere dot in your vision. The road stretches endlessly ahead, a bleak reminder of the ground yet to cover.
Dizziness is your constant companion now, your throat as parched as the Sahara despite your efforts to hydrate. Water is scarce, and you’ve been rationing it for days. Hope feels like a distant memory, and though the elusive horizon you’ve been chasing for weeks appears closer, it still seems maddeningly out of reach.
Your body feels like lead, your feet swollen and throbbing with every step. 
Sleep is a distant memory, haunted away by visions of blood-streaked faces, final breaths, and echoing cries. Bloodshot eyes and a disheveled appearance mark your struggle; you’re still in your tattered nightdress, stained with blood and reeking of fear and sweat. 
No food, no shower, just the relentless march through this wasteland.
You’ve lost track of time—is it still September? 
The biting cold cuts through you, your torn and ruined shoes barely offering any protection. You trudge onward, desperate to find shelter, weary of hiding in the bushes from strangers who might wish you harm. Paranoia grips you; every rustle in the distance, every shadow makes you jump. Trust is a luxury you can’t afford. You feel like you’re unraveling, teetering on the edge of sanity.
When your eyes land on a solitary house down a side street off the main road, you can hardly believe it. You’re nowhere near your end goal, the neighboring city, yet here it is—a lonesome house in the middle of fucking nowhere. You chuckle, convinced you’ve lost your mind. Why would there be a house out here, untouched by the chaos? You blink repeatedly, but the house remains. Your feet carry you forward, despite your spinning head and the jumbled mess of thoughts in your mind.
The house, partially concealed by tall trees and lush bushes miraculously untouched by the war, seems like a relic from a forgotten world. An old jeep, battered but intact, sits beside the porch with its white picket fence. You approach cautiously, every step feeling surreal, and lift your hand to knock. Your bloody knuckles leave crimson smears on the pristine white door, a stark reminder of the nightmare you can’t escape.
You lose track of time standing there, every second stretching into an eternity, before the door is abruptly ripped open. You find yourself staring down the barrel of a rifle.
“Who are you?” a male voice demands, harsh and suspicious, but the words barely register. Your vision blurs, darkness encroaching, and the last thing you feel is the hard impact of the porch floorboards against your head as you collapse.
Tumblr media
→ Do you want to join Yoongi on a quest for survival as the world crumbles around you? Let me know and I’ll tag you when it drops 💜
Also please let me know if you’re interested, excited about it— otherwise I’m probably just gonna post it on my ao3 only, lol. I’m scared 🫣
Read the second teaser + book cover [here]!
It's been posted!!!!
388 notes · View notes
mingi-s-dimples · 1 month
Text
splash of desire - wooyoung
Tumblr media
pairing: enemy & teammate!wooyoung x fem!reader
rating: 18+ (filth)
genre: enemies to lovers, filthy smut (mdni ty)
summary: your captain makes you share a room with your death enemy, who also happens to be your teammate.
WC: 3.1k
warnings: non idol au, dystopian (strictland), brat dom!wooyoung x even brattier!reader, cocky!wooyoung, cursing, cussing out, threats (once or twice, death threat once and knife once), size kink, shower sex, overstim, orgasm control, ruined orgasm (twice f), oral (m), foreplay (f & m), blowjob, choking (both by dick and by hand), handjob, hair pulling, pet names ( ), making out, deepthroating, slight dacryphilia, one scene with pleading/begging, completely consensual, unprotected (booo use protection irl!!!), death enemies to lovers, completely unedited & might edit later, totally forgot to mention something.
Author's Note: Enemies to lovers... shower sex AND Wooyoung? give me 14 thank you. I wrote this in ONE DAY... like 4 hours or something? I think it took me longer to actually re edit/write the entire fic rather than initially writing it 😭. My utmost fave part was when Wooyoung said he wouldn't back off if he kissed her !?!??! I'm afraid I'm in love with how I wrote this fic keisjs (I always say this). Anyways, enjoy my fic ! 🫶🏻 (also I'm on the rollll I'm still on vacation LMAO I got really bored.. and horny so, once again, enjoyyy) - wrote this together w my bestie, she chose a plot - i only had the smut in mind upsi - tysm Lis for helping me ajisebs love youuu .
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.
Tumblr media
You were apart of ATEEZ, a well known group of outlaws, rebelled against the Strictland Government. They were some.. entities, which distrupted the initial normal world with all of their activities. Hongjoong, your captain, suddenly decided to part the whole team on small groups, of 2 people, because the latest mission almost failed tragically. He thought that it happened because we were too many in the same place. In the end, he chose Wooyoung to team up with you and.. neither of you were happy about it. In fact, you started bickering with both Hongjoong and Wooyoung, because for some reason Hj thought that you's be better off on a mission with Woo. Little did he know that you'd actually kill him even before the mission started if you had the chance.
You looked at Hj in disbelief.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I AM ON MISSION WITH WOOYOUNG?"
You let out a heavy sigh, giving a piercing stare to Wooyoung.
"WHY HIM, OUT OF ALL PEOPLE? Captain. Please... please... put me on another team.." you said pleading, almost begging Hongjoong, but to no avail.
"Nope, end of discussion. You are going to do as I said. You both have one hour to prepare and pack things. I already made a reservation for a hotel hot too far from here. We gotta stay united but not in the same place, it's too risky."
"Guess we'll need to tolerate each other, y/n. I won't try to kill you, I promise." Wooyoung said, giving you the death stare with a smirk.
Hongjoong left the room, giving you a stare. He tried so hard not to burst out laughing, knowing you were pissed at him for pairing you with Wooyoung.
And here you were, in your own, nice and little room... but private. In 2 hours you were gonna live with your death enemy, which happened to also be your teammate, in the same hotel room. Ironic, isn't it? How much you hated him, his face, his cocky and bratty attitude. Everything about him made you curse at him on a daily basis. But now, you were gonna be closer to him than ever. You didn't even know what to say about it... you were just.. in disbelief.
*2 hours later*
"Oookay guys. Here is your room, you only have one bed tho, we can't afford a bigger room for now. Please don't fight, don't try to kill each other and please, for fucks sake, don't bomb the place. Enjoy your time" Hongjoong said, letting out a small chuckle.
He knew sth you didn't know.
"Okay. Dissappear, please. I don't want to see you this early in the morning." you said to Wooyoung, staring him down. You took a cigarette out of your pocket and lit it, going om the balcony to ease your mood.
"We both know you love me, y/n, don't act like this" He said teasingly, approaching you slowly.
"Fuck you, don't piss me off. Go away! " you said, pushing him away.
"Fine. I'll be in the room if you need me" he whispered.
"Fuck off you bitch" you whisperer, not letting him hear you.
You took your phone out of the pocket and dialed Hongjoong.
"Joong please! I can't live with this brat! We've been in the same room for 3 minutes and we already started bickering! Please change the layout... " you pleaded.
But you didn't hear anything. Instead, he hung up in you, giving you the final answer.
"Oh cmon, you fucker" you said to yourself.
*several minutes later*
You decided to go back in the room after smoking quite a few cigarettes. After all, you were trying to distract yourself from the situation.
But it didn't last long.
"Huh? where the fuck did he go?"
"Well, better for me, I won't see his face for a while. Maybe he's planning to kill me? I wouldn't be surprised"
You later decided to go take a shower to ease your muscles after the mission you had 2 days ago, but to your surprise and horror.. you met Wooyoung's gaze in the hall, right besides the bathroom's door. He was halfway naked, t-shirt on the floor and only in his briefs. You were trying to look away but.. froze. You stared him from head to toe, stopping at his collarbones, then at his waist... his underwear. He was.. packing.
"For fucks sake, Wooyoung! What are you doing?" you finally said, after eye fucking him for a long minute.
"What does it look like I'm doing? Chill, I wanted to take a shower. Unless you wanna join me?" he said laughing, but seeing your flustered face made his gaze darken.
"Oh.. maybe you want to join me after all, judging from your stare, hm?" he said, approaching you.
"Fuck off! Don't you touch me, what the fuck!" you said and slapped him, looking horrified in his eyes at what you just did. You always bickered and fought with him but never in your right mind thought about hitting him.
"Ouu, feisty." he said and slammed your wrists to the wall, right above you.
"The fuck are you doing?!" you said trying to escape his grip but to no avail. He was strong.. and besides being strong you made him mad.
"Oh kitten, I've seen your gaze. You've been eye fucking me for a while, is that right?" he whispered right into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
*click*
He closed the door with his left hand. You had nowhere to go. But... did you want to leave?
"Wooyoung it's not funny, I hate everything about you."
He tilts his head at your words.
"Come again, darling? I didn't quite hear you."
"You're fucking annoying, don't get on my nerves" you said, squirming and trying to get away from his grip. But with every word and every sentence he was saying, your force dissipated and you were starting to give in... maybe you wanted him after all?
You had a window of freedom and took something out of your pocket.
"Ouuu, a knife? Are you trying to perhaps flirt with me?" he said smiling, tightening his grip on your wrists.
"Drop it. I can't guarantee your safety with that shit around me, y/n." he said and took it from your hands.
"Shut the fuck up"
"Make me, love"
You gulped. You never thought that your... death enemy would turn you on but.. here you are, arousal pooling in your panties and trying to keep your composure and not jump on him in that instant. He was staring you down, you could feel how his eyes were eating you right there. He closed the gap between your bodies, you could feel his briefs getting thighter against your thighs.
"Wooyoung.. ? The fuck are you doing?" You said flustered, looking at the bulge forming in front of you.
"Perhaps I want to fuck you or... leave you hanging? Either way... it's so much fun seeing you this flustered... you've never been like this. It makes me go insane" he said, leaning in, hovering his lips over your collarbones.
You didn't try to run away now. You almost fully gave in but... there was still something holding you back. Was he always like this? Was he.. always into you.. like this? All these thoughts were driving you insane as you felt your cunt wetting your jeans. Did you want to give in? Did you want to leave? Your body was telling you something.. while your mind was telling you otherwise. But... you wanted to give in. Truth is... you've always wanted to fuck him. To fuck the cockiness and brattiness out of him. To see him flustered, to find out why he's always been bratty with you and only you.
Though.. he continued before letting you say something.
"You know... the problem is.."
He said as he leaned in, staring at your lips with hunger and thirst.
"If I touch you... or kiss you... I don't think I'll be able to back off."
He said... waiting for the slightest response from you.
"Wooyoung -" you mustered your courage to say, touching his lip with your thumb after he loosened the grip on your hands.
He took that as a yes.
Wooyoung leaned in for a kiss, one of his hands holding your wrists above and the other one on your waist, all touchy.
"To be honest with you, y/n"
He stopped for a moment.
"I've always wanted to do this"
He said as he leaned in for a deeper, sloppier kiss. His hand going down to your ass, trying to feel you up in every way possible.
"I hate you, Wooyoung."
"No. babe. You hate the fact that you actually want me" he said, planting a kiss on your neck.
And that was it.. you were making out with your death enemy. Tongues interlocking, lewd sounds being heard in the whole room. His hands going down to your pants and your hands on his shoulders, he took you in his hands and put you on the washing machine in the bathroom. In the meantime, you could feel his hands all touchy around your waist. He was not that shitty, after all. He was waiting for you to fully give in before making any move that would make you uncomfortable. But as he said... you'd been eye fucking him for a while now.
You unzipped your pants and he took them off. His hands going back to your ass, now tugging at your panties. As soon as he touched your thigh, really close to your cunt, you flinched.
He stopped.
"Hm? why did you stop"
"You flinched. All good w me all over you?"
"Yes."
"Okay, good girl" he said. smiling.
"Fuck you, Wooyoung"
"Oh yes, please." he said and went in for a wild sloppy kiss, biting your lower lip while he took of your panties and bra. You were already bare in fron of him while he still had his briefs on... which you took care of in a second. You first started touching his tip through the cloth, feeling how hard it has gotten these past few moments. He didn't lie, after all. He really wanted to fuck you... judging from all the pre cum leaking through. You tugged at them and took them off only halfway before his cock sprung up out of the enclosed briefs.
You gulped.
"Hm? did you say something, love?"
"Are you... perhaps.. surprised?" he said, chuckling at the view he had. Your hand was resting on his dick, which was halfway out of his underwear. He was right... you were fucking surprised at how big he was.
"N-no" you said flustered. He could see the look on your face. You wanted to fuck him right there.
He left you sitting on the washing machine.
"Where the fuck are you going? Don't piss me off, you started this" you said, staring at him.
"Wait a moment, I'm just gonna do something" and as he finished talking, he turned on the shower.
"Oh, my fucking god." You gasped.
"Wooyoung.." you said but couldn't finish your sentence as he took you in his grip and dropped you off in the shower, the water dripping off your collarbones.
"Didn't you want to take a shower, woman? The fuck you looking at" he said before one of his hands went straight to your neck, receiving a choked whimper from you.
"Ooh, you're a cocky one, hm?" he said as you stopped showing him how much you wanted him.
"You're one to talk, Wooyoung" you said and right after you finished your sentence he pushed you on the wall, your breasts against the wall and your back arched for the man behind you.
"Stay still, babe." he said as he slapped your ass, holding onto it for dear life. He was resting his dick on your folds, rubbing against them for a moment.
"Fucking god.. y/n. I hate how good you feel"
He said as he pushed only his tip in.
"It makes me want to destroy the fuck out of you"
He said as he pushed himself fully into your cunt, receiving a loud moan from you.
"Wooyoung ! " you shouted, trying to hold onto something. He had other plans. He took your hair into a fist and with his other hand he held onto you, bottoming out with every single one of his thrusts. It hurt but oh god... you never thought he'd fuck this good. You were holding on for dear life, the wall slippery from the water running on you and your knees weak.
"I'm not even - oh"
"Sweating yet, babe." You said, stopping in the middle because of one of his thrusts.
"Is that really all you - g-got?" you muffled.
"Hm? You want more, huh? What a needy cunt you have." he said, burying his face into the nape of your neck, still holding on your hair, pulling it back. "Isn't this good to you, darling? Hm?" he said as he slowed down his thrusts, but going deeper as ever.
"Oh - my god" you whimpered, arousal dripping from your folds, as he pulled out for a moment.
"The fuck are you doing" you said annoyed, cause he stopped you from catching your high.
"You said you didn't even sweat so I stopped. I thought you meant I'm not good enough to you"
"You're a damn nuisance, Wooyoung. I can see your dick throbbing. Did you really want to stop?" you said, smiling at the view.
"Not your damn business. Quite a mouth you have, it seems like you need someone to put you in your place" he said as he manhandled you. He turned you around and pushed you on your knees, his cock on your cheek, rubbing on it while his hand was holding your hair.
"Got something to say, y/n? Are you finally.. quiet?" he said, looking down at you.
"Never, you fucker"
"Ohh, bratty. I love it" He said as he pushed his dick in your mouth, feeling it right in the back of your throat, tears swelling in your eyes. His dick was girthy... you could feel how it stretched your mouth so well. This brat also didn't let you adjust to his size. Having no room to breath, you were choking on his tip, but little did he care. He loved seeing you helpess, fucked dumb and being sucked by you.
When he pulled out for a short second you coughed, gasping for air.
"You're.. cute" he said chuckling, stroking your head while you had his dick on your lips.
"You bet" you said and you softly bit his tip, receiving a moan from him.
"Fuck you, y/n. This is how we are, hm? Fuck that hurt" he said, looking down at you, plotting something.
He kneeled and pushed you around. He wanted you to sit on all fours.
"Ass up, babe. On all fours. Turn around, on a side. Now." he said and even before having time to move, he manhandled you how he wanted. You were now sideways on your knees and hands.
"Suck."
And you obeyed. But little did you know he had completely other plans that you were bound to find out as soon as you felt the free hand, the one that wasn't holding your hair, on your spine right down to your ass. He used two of his fingers to spread out your wet, dripping folds. One of it rubbing on your clit, the other one slowly finding it's way in your cunt. He curled his finger inside you, making you arch your back and stop sucking him off. You gasped at the sensation.
"Damn, I never thought you'd be this hot sucking me off like the little whore you are. Wanna cum, hm? I can see it on your face. All flustered up and weak for me" he said, pushing two fingers inside you.
He was right, you were so close to finishing, barely standing on your knees. Your hands were slipping, trying to hold yourself up on his thighs.
"Stop" he said.
"W-what why" you said angrily, looking at him and gasping when he pulled out his fingers, your cunt clenching on nothing.
"You fucker, it's the 2nd time you've fucked with my orgasm. What's your problem, want me to kill you?" you shouted, weak in your knees as soon as he put his hand on your neck.
"Hmm.. maybe I love seeing you so desperate for me. For my dick, for my fingers. But... did you just say you'd.. kill me? Is that right, babe?" he said as he choked you, staring you up and down.
"We'll see about that. Get up and face me. Now." he said, waiting for you to obey.
He then lifted you up right on his dick, placing your hands on his shoulders. One of his hand was holding you from below and with one he was leaning against the wall, not letting your head hit the hard tile in the shower.
"Wooyoungh-h, I gotta-" you muffled.
"Use your words, pretty. I didn't quite understand"
"I gotta, mhhm, c-cum"
"Like, now" you said and let out a muffled moan, trying to look back at Wooyoung.
"Nu-uh babe, I didn't yet."
He stopped for only a second.
"Let's make a deal. Cum at the same time as me. Won't be that hard, right? I can see on your face that you're out of it. Now... cum." he said and started wildly thrusting into you, with so much speed and deepness, with the hand he was leaning against the wall on your clit, rubbing circles on it while closing the distance between you two.
It was like... what? the 3rd time you we're close to it and he was playing with you. But he wasn't a brat until the end and you both came, still thrusting into you so you could take up his load right up your cunt.
As both of you were coming down from your highs, he leaned down to put you down in the tiles and sat besides you.
"Y/n... I never thought this would happen but.. oh my god. You felt so good..." he said while giving you soft kisses on your forehead. He hovered the shower over you, washing you up. You've never seen that side of him. The nice, loving one.. but you loved it.
"Wooyoung.. when I tell you I GULPED when I saw you in the hallway. I was going insane !"
"Then.. up for a round 2?" he said laughing.
"Shut the fuck up, it's late and we need to wake up early as fuck!" you said, scoffing.
"Fine, fine. I'll pass on it tonight. But... what about tomorrow night? We could try the bed, too. It looks pretty sturdy." he said smirking.
"Wooyoung, for fucks sake! SHUT UP!" you said running out of the bathroom, your cheeks flushed from what he just said.
"Dammit, this fucker"
317 notes · View notes
lebrookestore · 9 months
Text
backburner | n.jm (teaser)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Na Jaemin x reader
Themes: college! au, exes! au, the situationship vibes are STRONG, angst, fluff, exes to ???, reader is a serial overthinker.
Warnings: profanity, heavy ANGST, kissing, food, underage alcohol consumption and alcohol consumption in general, jaemin is lowkey an asshole, more to be added for the full fic.
Word count for teaser: 580 | Estimated word count: 12-15k
Summary: After three months of ignoring your presence entirely, Na Jaemin saunters right back into your life without so much as single warning, leaving you to once again pick up the pieces of your burning heart.
Notes from brooke: a late christmas present from me<3 i'm back to writing my college aus so i hope all of you will enjoy my pain (literally).
[send an ask to be added to the taglist!]
Tumblr media
It was one in the morning when your phone rang.
A sigh left your chapped lips as you glanced down from the screen of your laptop to the device sitting by its side, your eyes burning at the too bright light emitting from your phone. The rest of your dorm was dark, having switched the lights off earlier at the request of your roommate, who had an early class the next day. 
Unfortunately for you, you had an assignment due the next day that you had, as usual, left for the last minute. Music played through your headphones as you tried to construct what you deemed a coherent enough essay to submit. 
Scrambling so you wouldn’t wake your roommate up, you pushed your headphones off and swiped the call icon across the screen of your phone, accepting it a second before you registered who the caller was. The contact glared at you as if it was mocking you for your carelessness and hastiness, causing you to bite down hard on the inside of your cheek.
Well. It was too late now.
Swallowing hard, you held your phone up to your ear and whispered. “Hello?”
“Hey.”
A breath you didn’t know you had been holding in escaped from your lips, having you shut your eyes and process his voice. It was funny, how just one inconsequential word from a single person could change your entire disposition.
“Jaemin? Are you okay?”
He hummed in response. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think I might be a little tipsy though.”
You could just imagine him right then, a glass being gripped loosely by his fingers, leaning against some wall as he spoke to you over the phone. The image was enough that you slipped out of your bed and pacing about your room as quietly as you could, restless.
“Oh. Um, don’t drink too much.”
He chuckled, a sound so familiar yet so distant to you. “I won’t, don’t worry.” 
Jaemin liked alcohol, you knew this much. He liked the way it would slowly hit his head and render him more easy going than he already was, causing that pretty smile of his to show more liberally. You were well versed with everything about him, from his walk to the way his eyes would express everything he was thinking, the slightly changes making themselves completely obvious for you,
The two of you had been so in tune with each other. Sometimes, you forgot how easy that made it for it all to fall apart.
“Okay.” You weren’t really sure where you were supposed to go with this conversation anymore. “Do you need something?”
“Not really.”
“Then….then why did you call me?” Bewilderment crept into your voice as clear as day. If you were in front of him right then, perhaps he would have teased you, tucking your hair behind your ear and muttering something about how cute you were. 
He stayed silent for a moment. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
You stopped your pacing, coming to a standstill as his words settled over you. In the silence of the night, you were almost too aware of the way your heart rate increased ever so slightly.
Yunjin was right. There was hardly ever a time where your best friend’s advice wasn’t spot on, but this time you found yourself wishing you had complied and actually blocked him like she had suggested you do. Maybe then you wouldn’t have found yourself in such a position. 
Tumblr media
coming soon. | lebrookestore 2024
589 notes · View notes
i314flix · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
— PART ONE, PART TWO.
the one where the thought of someone liking you romantically has never crossed your mind, much less being liked by your own crush, sirius black, who proves to you that all your doubts are nonsense.
Tumblr media
pairing: sirius black x fem!reader
word count: 3k
rating: PG-15
content: fluff, established relationship au; gryffindor!reader
warning/s: mentions of being insecure, low self-esteem
Tumblr media
opening note. it took a whole year for me to finish writing this part two lmao, but for the readers who got to read part one way back, i hope y’all like this!
Tumblr media
Being seen with Sirius—and frequently, might you add—indeed became the talk of the town for the first few days.
As soon as the news spreaded, Iris and Martha, your close friends, interrogated you endlessly inside your shared room at the dormitory, asking a bunch of questions that ranged from how did Sirius confess and what did you feel for the aforementioned guy.
They labeled themselves as ridiculous and as oblivious as you were when they realized that all the gestures that Sirius has been doing in all the times they accused him of liking Iris were actually directed to you. They apologized, for not seeing it themselves and for not thinking of you as the person Sirius liked, and told you that they were going to be happy and supportive of you as long as they saw that you were happy too and that Sirius treated you well.
When your Hogsmeade date came, you spent the whole day just getting to know Sirius. Turns out, he was more well-mannered than you thought. He was a gentleman; he opened doors for you, offered to pay for everything, was the one who ordered your meal, stood up whenever you wanted to follow up something from the counter, and carried your bag when you bought some sweets from Honeydukes.
But what you liked most about him now was how he seemed genuinely interested in you and whatever that happened in your life. He made it apparent that he really was keen on discovering more about who you really were, from your hobbies, to your favorite things, and where you grew up.
“My parents… I don’t know if you’ve heard it from somewhere,” you began as you walked with him back to the path that led back to the Hogwarts castle, “but they’re, uh, Muggles. So, that means—”
“You’re Muggleborn,” Sirius supplied for you, appearing not even the slightest bit bothered by the fact. “And you don’t have any siblings, do you?”
You answered him, quite confused that he didn’t dwell too much on your revelation, but chose to drop it for now. “None.”
“Ah, so that makes you the only witch in your family.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, “uh, does that sound okay?”
He glanced at you with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t know. You’re a Pureblood, and you come from an excellent line of wizards.”
“You have a point,” he said, still nonchalant as ever, “but I’m… well, you can say I’m a bit different from them. I mean, to start it off, I’m a Gryffindor.” He chuckled. “Plus, I’ve moved out from my home decades ago.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I live with James over the summer. His parents treat me as their own. Nicest couple, the Potters.”
“Wow. I never knew.”
“Well, being a teenage runaway and an outcast in my own family isn’t exactly something I should be proud of.”
You both laughed.
You were relieved to find out that there was no issue about you being a Muggleborn, especially since as stated, he came from a family of impressive and some well-known wizards who—from what you remembered—believed that being a Pureblood was equivalent to being practically royalty in the wizarding world.
Even if you knew that he wasn’t like that to begin with, there was still some doubt in your mind that perhaps his mindset is the same as theirs, considering that you’ve been a victim of prejudice over the years you studied in Hogwarts and was even called a Mudblood by a Pureblood student when you surpassed them on an exam in second year.
So, to have a confirmation right now was great. You were happy to hear from him that he didn’t have any problem with it, unlike some people who you’ve caught muttering to themselves about how Sirius could associate himself with a person like you, which inevitably led to some insecurities building up.
“Do you reckon I can get away with taking you out again next week?” asked Sirius once you were back in the Gryffindor common room, stopping before you where you stood at the last step of the stairs leading to the girl’s dormitory.
Your eyebrows rose. “There’ll be a next time?”
“Yes. If that’s okay with you,” he said with a patient smile. “Or did I read the signals wrong and you actually hated spending time with me today?”
“Don’t be foolish. I didn’t hate it.”
“You didn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Then how did you like it?” He was suddenly doing it again, that thing he does wherein he moves closer to you and you were bound to move away because of shyness, but somehow at this instance, you couldn’t command your feet to do its usual response.
“Hm?”
“Was it nice?” He continued, a hand now placed on the stairs’ handrail, leaning towards it. “Was it okay? Was it average? Would you ever want to be with me again?” He was teasing, it was evident on his big smile and his mischievous expression.
“I think you already know the answer to that.” You frowned cutely.
“Oh, I really don’t.”
“Sirius…”
“Tell me what you think,” he urged, tone gentle.
There were girls from your house walking down the steps, seeing the scene of Sirius gazing at you and you looking flustered playing in front of them. They hushed among themselves, glancing at you in envy, and you felt your cheeks burn at the attention.
“It was nice.” You told him finally.
“Just nice?”
“Wonderful,” you corrected.
He nodded solemnly, waiting.
“And I’d like to do it again sometime.”
He grinned. “That’s more like it. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
You smiled down at the floor. “As if I was going to say something else.”
He lifted your chin up so that your eyes could meet. “Still, I like hearing it come from your lips.”
Before you went upstairs to your room, Sirius reached for your hand and kissed the back of it, winking at you and then heading to the boy’s dormitory.
For the following weeks, the both of you were consistently hanging out and going on dates. It reached a point wherein your respective friend groups were starting to merge. It was either Martha and Iris who were going to be with you two, while anyone from Sirius’ own friends tagged along and joined the party as well.
You were naturally growing more comfortable with Sirius day by day. You even allowed him to hold your hand by the third date. He has stolen a few kisses on your forehead and cheek, and has laid his head on your lap whenever you were in the Gryffindor common room, Sirius sometimes getting your hand and placing it gently on his hair, asking if you would stroke it as he tried to take a nap.
Everything was going at such a smooth and great pace.
Sirius was great. His friends were great. What you were feeling for him was getting stronger.
The only problem was the bitter people who had no business having a say in your blooming relationship.
You knew you shouldn’t mind them, but it was hard when you could hear students whispering about you in classes and during breaks, always going on about how someone like you didn’t seem to be a good fit for Sirius, either in deep belief that Purebloods shouldn’t date Muggleborns or that you were far too quiet and timid to be a wonderful match for the ever so magnetic Sirius Black.
You couldn’t agree more, to be frank. However, your greediness and happiness were what mattered to your most in situations like these that you managed to fade those comments out.
That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.
Or influenced you to sometimes see yourself in a harsher light.
“I knew you’d still be here,” Sirius spoke from behind you, a quick kiss being planted on your temple before he took the spot next to you on the sofa.
It was past midnight, and you were still working on an essay for History of Magic. You promised Sirius an hour or two ago that you weren’t going to stay up too late, but you haven’t been adding any new paragraphs to your essay because of your overthinking, so that meant you also haven’t reached your personal quota that was made in the first place to prevent you from cramming the said output.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” you replied, looking at him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Didn’t you say you have training for Quidditch in the morning?”
“I do.”
“Which means you really have to go to bed.”
“I tried to. Really. But I couldn’t.”
“Why not? Do you need warm milk or a frame that has dozens of sheep for you to count to help you get drowsy?”
He rolled his eyes. “Ha, very funny, but I actually wanted to make sure that you were already in your room. It’s not good to be here all alone.”
“I do it all the time. Nobody’s usually up in the common room at this hour, anyways.”
“Well, next time, tell me, so I’ll keep you company.”
“Oh, but that won’t be necessary.”
“I’m aware,” he said. “However, I insist. Come on, love, we’ve talked about this.”
You smiled, apologetic. “Sorry. I should know better, shouldn’t I?”
“Well, you told me that you’re still getting used to it, so I’m not holding that against you.”
“Yeah. But that’s just it, actually. I know that I should be getting used to it. To us… to you… but my brain keeps telling me that it’s bad to do so.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know,” you trailed awkwardly, realizing that you might have said too much, but you didn’t want to stop giving him a little bit more of your thoughts, getting a sudden rush of courage you’ve been wanting to have, “perhaps just, I feel like… I don’t deserve this. Any of what’s happening between us.”
Sirius stared at you, confused. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I just feel like this is all a wonderful dream that I’d have to wake up from soon.”
“____,” he began to say your name, but you shook your head, already sensing where it was heading.
“You don’t have to say anything, Sirius. It doesn’t have anything to do with how you’re making me feel.”
“Then what’s making you think this way? Is it because of what the others are saying?”
In your silence, he got the answer he needed.
“It’s absolute rubbish, you know,” he said. He sat up straight too, appearing more passionate now. “People don’t know what they’re blabbering about. All they want is to stick their noses into others’ businesses when they don’t know anything.”
“Sometimes they have a point, though.”
“Such as?”
“Such as you being a Pureblood and me being a Muggleborn not making any sense.”
He seemed frustrated at that. His nostrils flared a bit when you mentioned it. “Since when did that matter anymore? Lily and James are literally the same.”
“Yeah, but we’re not the same same as them. We’re still different. Lily’s different. She’s much more spectacular than I am.”
 ��Come on, you’re being absurd. You’re amazing, ____.”
You had the nerve to laugh. “It’s fine, really. You don’t have to make me feel better. If there’s something that I’m used to, it’s this.” You sighed, going back to your previous position and focusing back on your parchment. “I’m sorry I brought it up in the first place.”
“No, don’t be,” he reached for your hand and forced you to face him again, in which you did, but you still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I should be the one apologizing. I haven’t been checking up on you about this. I should have known better that this was something that would bother you.”
“What do you even see in me, Sirius?”
“What?”
“We nearly have nothing in common. You should be someone who’s at the same level as you are.”
“No, I don’t. I much rather be with you—regardless of how different we are, I don’t particularly care and I never thought of it as an issue nor will I ever do.” Sirius pursed his lips, appearing a bit nervous now because of what he was going to say. “Look, ____, I like you so much. I like every aspect of you and what kind of person you are. I see what you’re made of, and I cherish you very much because of it. I like your kindness, your wit, your energy, and your whole being. You’re simply the easiest person to adore, and I’m utterly puzzled that you cannot see it.”
Your tongue felt dry. No one has ever declared what they felt for you in that manner before. It caused your eyes to tear up a bit at the overwhelming reality that there was a person out there who saw you this way, who liked you for who you are and didn’t give two cents of what others thought of about it. You were so accustomed to being unseen, not given that much importance to, that to have Sirius tell you what you meant to him brought indescribable contentment in your heart.
So, without thinking, you leaned towards him and kissed his lips, bringing your arms around his neck while he parted his mouth in surprise, nonetheless wrapping his own around your waist to support your weight on him.
Sirius reciprocated the kiss, matching the vigor you were showing him, despite being shocked that you were the one who initiated your first ever real kiss with him. He was under the impression that it would take more dates before the both of you would reach this point, a concept that he didn’t have any problem with since he was sincere when he said he’d be patient with you, and that he’d be the one who was going to test the waters before asking if you were good with the thought of him planting a kiss on your lips.
“I like you so much too, Sirius,” you whispered, pulling away and gasping for air. “Having you be in my life is perhaps one of the most unexpected yet greatest things to happen to me.”
He grinned at that, pressing another firm kiss on your lips that made you sigh. “You’re so wonderful, love. I should’ve been with you since first year if only I wasn’t a bloody coward.”
You both laughed at his statement.
“It’s fine,” you assured him. “You have a lifetime now to show me what I’ve been missing.”
“You’re exceptionally bold tonight.” He observed.
“Well, the guy I have been crushing on and dating just made a heartfelt declaration of his attraction to me so I’m feeling my best.”
“About time that he did, honestly. Will this guy have the honor of being officially your boyfriend if he asked tonight?”
Your eyes widened. “That depends. Is he going to ask right now?”
“He’s about to. Just after he stops pretending that he’s pertaining to another guy and not himself.”
Another laugh and you were kissing him again, Sirius holding onto you tightly as he kept you in his embrace.
“Be mine?” he murmured against you, drawing his head back a little so he could stare directly at your eyes.
You smiled. You were on cloud nine; there was nothing that could ruin your entire year. “Yeah.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
Sirius leaned for a longer kiss, much longer than the one you just shared earlier. He thought of how he could stay all night like this, how he might have to fake sickness just to ditch quidditch practices so he wouldn’t have to wake up so damn early, but before he could seriously contemplate it, you retracted your mouth from his and was telling him that he should go back to sleep because he had a tiring day ahead of him.
He frowned, wanting to kiss you again but you shook your head, evading his advances and giggling. “Sirius, you have practice in a few hours,” you told him again, “and I have to finish my essay too. You should head back.”
“For real?”
“For real.”
“But—”
“No, no.” You stood up and pulled him with you. “As your girlfriend now, my opinion holds more bearing, so when I say that you should go back to sleep—”
“I should follow you?” he finished, allowing you to lead him back to where the boy’s dormitory is headed.
You grinned, teasing. “Only if you want to, of course.”
He snorted. “You promise not to stay up too late? Because as your boyfriend, I should be entitled to stop you from making bad decisions as well.”
“Yes, I won’t. You have my word.”
“Good.” Sirius pecked your lips. “Goodnight, beautiful.”
An even bigger grin made its way to your features. “Goodnight. I’ll see you at lunch?”
He nodded. “You’ll probably catch me standing at the Gryffindor table too. I have to announce to the whole school that you’re my girlfriend. Can’t have anyone thinking you’re still available, right?”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“I would.”
“Sirius.”
“Goodnight. Dream of me, would you?” He snickered, abruptly rushing to the dormitory and leaving you there, speechless.
You were positive that he was only bluffing to tease the hell out of you who was not a fan of too much attention, but somehow, considering Sirius’ track record of being mischievous, you suddenly feared that he was not bluffing like you reckoned him to be.
Not to mention that he could be really petty at times too, and given that a lot of students still did not believe that a person like him would like a person like you, making a dramatic proclamation of how much he liked you and how much he hated those who couldn’t keep their idiotic opinions to themselves would certainly make a point.
For some reason, you found yourself smiling at the idea, secretly pleased that you had Sirius—the person you were now sure would move the earth and moon for you if that was what you wanted.
Tumblr media
gentle reminder: this author is a sucker for validation so please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts about this! ♡
Tumblr media
175 notes · View notes
bvidzsoo · 1 month
Text
Love Me Like A Rockstar (14)
ー☆ Chapter 14: Follow You
Tumblr media
Author: bvidzsoo
Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader
ー☆ Warning: none ー☆ Word count: 7.8k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?
A/N: Hello, my lovelies! And the last actual chapter is here (as I still have an epilogue ready for you all), I can't believe we're wrapping up LMLAR and that I have to let go of the characters I have created for this story. I can't lie, I might have become really attached to Mingi in this story because I accidentally portrayed in him my ideal type, but what's new? I somehow always manage to hurt myself when I write with Mingi lol (ig that's the burden I have to carry if I write a story with my bias lol) I will be going on a holiday for possibly two weeks, so that means I won't be able to write nor update for two weeks (which sounds horrible and I'm already dying over it, but I hope I'll manage to find time to still write even if a little). Now, don't worry too much about the epilogue and I ask you to read the note at the end of this chapter attentively! ;) For once, I am asking you all to listen to Follow You after you've finished the chapter and not before or during it! I'm curious if the lyrics will be familiar hehe. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and let me know through feedback <3 divider
Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red
@sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng
@deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf
@hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss
@catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg
⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩
♫Playlist♫
Tumblr media
            Being here with him, doing this with him had no business being so nerve-wracking. This was Mingi, the guy I hated at first—did I?—and then found a friend in and—well, now found something more in him—wanted more from him. But the flutter of my heart and my stomach twisting despite still feeling somewhat calm, reminded me that no matter that I was with Mingi, this was a completely new setting for us. Yes, it was just the two of us going out and about, but at the same time, it was a date. Something we both discussed and agreed upon, leaving our houses with the purpose of going on this date, the two of us. And perhaps it wasn’t even me feeling nervous about going on a date with Mingi per se, but more the fact that I hadn’t done something like this in ages, which made me feel giddy about it. Like a child when they get the present they really wanted on Christmas Eve.
Mingi, like the true gentleman he was, had picked me up once we were both done with our classes for the day, the sun only half an hour away from setting. The sky had been coated in orange and pink hues as Mingi drove us to an unknown location, grinning from ear to ear as he talked about his day to fill the silence since his old Honda’s stereo had stopped working a few days ago. I didn’t mind that, not at all, if that meant I got to listen to his deep voice and excited tone as he told me about his professor asking about Outlaw and whether he was allowed to attend one of Noir Zenith’s performances. It seemed like word had gotten out lately about Mingi’s band, and even more people from our university were interested in watching them play, I feared soon Outlaw wouldn’t be enough to house the fans. The thought made me feel—made me feel proud and happy for him. Mingi deserved this, he was hard-working and diligent, and I wished him nothing but the best.
When I realized that Mingi was driving us to a rather high-end part of the city with tall and fancy buildings, I found myself more nervous about the surprise he had in mind for me. I didn’t exactly want to dine out in a super expensive restaurant—it really wasn’t my thing—but if this is what Mingi prepared for us, I wouldn’t mind. I knew I’d enjoy myself as long as he was by my side. But, thankfully, he veered us away from the main street and drove down a few narrower ones, buildings nestled together and looking cozier than ever. Graffiti and murals covered every second bricked wall, and I watched curiously as Mingi pulled over and parked the car at the side of the road, in front of a black building, smaller than the ones in the area but a lot more modern and fancier looking. It was dark inside and looked unlived in, but I didn’t question him when he just grinned and grabbed a blanket and basket out of the backseat, then grabbed my hand and guided me towards its front door.
He had fumbled with the key for a second and I snickered at him as he flushed, but then we were inside and I watched in awe the high windows, the place vacant of anything. It was dark, now with the sun setting as well, and I noticed that quite a few lightbulbs were still missing, but Mingi grabbed my hand and walked us towards the end of the hallway.
“Are you sure we’re supposed to be here?” I asked quietly, as if afraid someone would hear us. The place was unfurnished still and Mingi hummed as I noticed light coming from a room whose archway was covered by a black blanket so that you couldn’t see inside. I had paused and looked at Mingi questioningly as he chewed on his bottom lip, then released my hand and yanked the blanket down. My eyes widened at the scenery inside, completely taken aback by the fairy lights strung above and the fort which was built by three stands and a blanket dangled over them. Besides the fairy lights, there was a projector and the white wall was covered in the image of a forest, with a creek slowly flowing through, and the distant sound of birds chirping echoed around the room, it was quiet so as not to disturb any conversation.
My jaw was completely on the floor as I felt my heart race even faster, completely in awe at the view in front of me. I couldn’t believe someone would do something so sweet for me, and as I turned to look at Mingi, for the first time, he looked nervous. He smiled tentatively and I noticed his trembling fingers as he pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his tall nose, and then without thinking, I threw myself in his arms, hugging his torso tightly as I gnawed on my bottom lip, embarrassed by the sudden tears in my eyes as I buried my head in his chest. Mingi made a surprised noise in the back of his throat but didn’t hesitate to return the embrace, and I had to gulp multiple times to try and get rid of the lump in my throat. Nobody has ever done something this nice for me. It was thoughtful, there was effort put into it, and I knew Mingi did this all by himself.
“So, based on your reaction, I assume you like this?” He didn’t sound smug or playful, he sounded genuinely curious, and for a second, I couldn’t believe I was stupid enough to even think of ruining a relationship with someone this precious.
“I love it, Mingi.” I whispered into his chest, the softener of his clothes carrying a flowery scent that mingled with his cologne that I was familiar with by now. It felt safe, it felt warm, and Mingi was comforting to be around.
“Oh, that’s good.” He heaved a sigh and I finally managed to get rid of the tears as I pulled my head back to look up at him, his cheeks were flushed a deep red, a great contrast against his tanned skin and platinum hair, “I was scared you’d hate it, but Wooyoung told me to trust my gut, so I did.”
I smiled and released him, stepping back to offer him space so that he could proceed with his plans. He beckoned me further inside the warm room, towards the fort as he laid the blanket out on a mattress for us, placing the picnic basket next to it, “If the weather would’ve allowed it, I would’ve loved taking you down to the creek for a little picnic under the warm sun, but autumn and winter suck, so I had to get creative.”
“I wasn’t expecting anything less from you.” I chuckled as I had walked towards him, shrugging off my long coat. Mingi followed suit and I took my time to take in his attire, loose black jeans held onto his narrow hips by a thick belt, a beige sweater tucked in slightly at the front, and a black denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up. His wrists were decorated with beaded bracelets, the rings toned down as he only had three on his left and one on his right hand, three necklaces dangling at different lengths around his neck. His nails were bare today, void of the familiar black tint. And, without meaning to, it seemed like we wore matching outfits for our date. I wore black jeans which was loose at the knees paired with a black off-shoulder long-sleeved blouse and a beige sweater with holes over it. I didn’t want to comment on my observations as Mingi settled on the mattress with a grin, patting the spot next to him, “What’s this place though? Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?”
Mingi chuckled as he opened the basket, pulling out the thermos I had brought the hot chocolate in for him days ago, and then he grabbed two mugs, “I pulled some strings for us to be here, but we’re not trespassing, so don’t worry.”
“Who owns this building?” I asked curiously as I watched Mingi pour hot chocolate into the mugs.
“Well, last I heard Hongjoong bought it, so…” My eyes widened as I had taken the mug from Mingi, curious to know more, “This building will be Seonghwa’s art studio. He wishes to launch a brand soon, and Hongjoong thought it would be best if Seonghwa has his own office, or studio as Hwa likes to call it. I think he wants to turn the front lobby into a smaller art gallery of sorts, you should talk to him and see whether he’s interested in displaying your paintings and drawings.”
I hummed, thrilled at the idea of having my own exposition one day, “I don’t think I have enough creations for him to display just yet, but I will keep it in mind.”
It’s my dream to be a well-known painter all around the world, to have to travel to display my art in various galleries, to have people interpret my works to their liking and imagination, and to be able to spread a message through my work. I love creating and I love sharing my deepest thoughts through whatever I put on a canvas, or in my sketchbook and, perhaps, I love it even more when someone else appreciates it and interprets it through their own lens, through their own experiences.
Being here with Mingi felt warm, it made me forget about every concern I had prior, completely disregarding my nervous state as I now found myself comfortable sitting beside him and sipping on our hot chocolate, snacking from time to time on popcorn and whatever salty snack Mingi had prepared for us. The scenery through the projector never changed, and I found the chirping of the birds and the flow of the water as white noise rather relaxing. If I closed my eyes, I could easily picture myself with Mingi by the creek, the two of us sitting on a blanket in the green grass, the warm sun beaming down on us as we laughed and talked about whatever came to mind. It seemed like time passed by like a slug when in reality, it was flying away way too fast, but neither one of us cared. Wooyoung and Seulgi knew we were on a date—and since this building was Hongjoong and Seonghwa’s, they probably knew we were here too—and I had told my mother earlier today that I was going out with Mingi. There was no point hiding anything from her anymore, and she was beyond excited to hear the news. She had a night shift today, but she promised to pester me at breakfast about every single detail tomorrow, swearing she wouldn’t go to sleep until we had the chance to talk. And when she put her mind to something, I knew she would follow through with it.
Mingi and I had been talking non-stop since the whole fiasco in his studio—through texts, phone calls, or in person—and I found myself craving to be around him more and more. Surprising even myself, I bought pastries just the other day before going to my first class, and knowing Mingi would be in his studio, I surprised him with his favorite pastry before I was off to class, not wanting to bother him anymore. It also didn’t come as much of a surprise when he and Wooyoung sat with me and Seulgi at lunch, Mingi huddled up close to me as he wouldn’t stop nagging me about eating more, giving me half of his portion despite me not being able to stomach it. In the end, he finished both of our lunches, and I couldn’t have been happier. Seulgi and Wooyoung didn’t comment much on our antics, but I knew Seulgi was dying to tease me. I knew I was in for it later in our art class, and I wasn’t wrong.
The tension I felt around Mingi—due to not being completely honest with him—had now completely disappeared and was, instead, replaced with a tingling feeling that made me giggle and flush any time I allowed my thoughts to stray towards him. Towards his tall build, his firm muscles, his deep and raspy voice that covered my skin in chills any time I listened to it, and his sharp eyes that could make anyone weak in the knees unless they were creased due to his wide smile. His long nose and crooked teeth and that wide smile that had my stomach doing weird flips, his throaty giggles and rarely flushed cheeks. His hands, which were always warm in contrast to his chunky silver rings, which, surprisingly, have become comforting whenever they dug into my skin, his thick fingers intertwined with mine. His cologne and scent, which had me craving more of him, his clothes tucked away securely in my closet—and if perhaps one of my hoodies’ started smelling like Mingi, nobody had to know that I would snuggle up in it before falling asleep. His arms, which always brought a wave of comfort with them and made me feel smaller than anyone has managed to make me feel before. His hands and nails which I would stare at and flush whenever Mingi noticed what I had been doing, and ultimately, his platinum blonde hair, a color that I started loving instead of hating so ardently. It suited him, it made him look unfairly handsome, it sharpened his high cheekbones and his well-defined jaw, gave his eyes more depth and sharpness, and yes, I loved the color, but I also missed his naturally black hair. It made him look softer, more like the Mingi he was on the inside, easily fooling others of his true personality.
A personality that was goofy and giddy, yet a personality that felt everything intensely and spoke boldly, expressing himself directly and never expecting anything besides fair treatment and the truth in return. Mingi was a sensitive soul who offered without asking anything back in return, and he was rewarded rightfully by those around him who appreciated and loved him. He was easily lovable and I found it harder each day that passed by to ignore the need to cherish and protect him. I didn’t think coming clean with my feelings would be such a liberating feeling, that it would make everything so much easier to accept, to mull over. I was scared, of course, I still was, but I felt hopeful. I knew Mingi well enough by now to know he’d never pressure me into anything I didn’t want, that he’d never make me feel uncomfortable, and that he’d always take it slow if that’s what I needed.
When our mindless chatter finally subsided, the two of us now laid on our backs, staring up at the moon Mingi had hung up in the fort—it felt serene. I knew we were nearing late evening by now, but I couldn’t find it in myself to actually care, to actually look at my phone to check the time. I didn’t even want to look at my wristwatch to see—I wished to stay in this moment with Mingi for as long as possible. We had eaten almost all the snacks he brought and the hot chocolate had been long gone now, all we did was enjoy each other’s company right now. With a finger fiddling with the holes in my sweater, I reached the pinkie of my other hand out until I could poke at Mingi’s hand. I didn’t look at him, but I could see from my peripheral that his eyes were closed. He hummed when I poked his pinkie again, and then, finally gave in as he hooked our pinkies together, sending my heart into a frenzy as I tried to remind myself that this wasn’t the first time we’d be holding hands—it did nothing to my poor flushed cheeks nor churning stomach, I was horrible at hiding how he made me feel.
“Can I ask you something?” Mingi’s voice was quiet as if not to disturb our peace. He sounded just a little bit hesitant, and I got a feeling of what our next subject would be about. I hummed and listened as he took a deep breath, then asked his question, “Do you hate Yunho?”
My eyebrows furrowed as I glanced at Mingi, his eyes were still closed, except that now he was gnawing on his lower lip nervously instead of looking at ease. I didn’t have to think much about his question, I don’t think I have ever felt such negative feelings against someone before, “No, I could never hate anyone, to be honest. However, I did resent him for a long time.”
“And now?” I could understand his curiosity and the need to know more about whatever was once between Yunho and me. It didn’t make me feel uncomfortable, I was rather thankful that we could openly discuss it. I know that if it bothered him, Mingi would’ve told me because that’s who he was. We didn’t hold secrets from each other, we spoke directly and honestly.
“I don’t feel anything,” I whispered with a small shrug, finding it weird how impartial I had become to Jeong Yunho. A few months ago I still couldn’t think of him without distaste, let alone talk about him without my stomach dropping and heart clenching. I still didn’t appreciate the way he’s treated me, of course, I didn’t, but I found it easy to let go, to not care anymore at all, “It’s been over five years that we dated, and I’ve been over him for a long time now.”
“But you couldn’t completely let go,” Mingi muttered and I had to gulp, not that surprised that he saw right through me.
“He was my first love, my first in everything so I—” I gulped, wondering whether this was uncomfortable or not for Mingi to discuss, but he intertwined our fingers and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I took a deep breath and slowly continued, “I was attached to him, people always say you’ll forever remember the first person you truly loved, and I think they are right. It’s a bittersweet memory, to be honest, but not something I feel locked down in anymore. Even the resentment I felt towards him now feels so distant like it happened ages ago and not months ago. It feels good and refreshing to have gotten rid of such consuming thoughts and emotions despite never saying it out loud. I hated myself for latching onto that last fraction of emotion I felt towards Yunho, thinking it would make his life as miserable as he made mine but in reality, I was only holding myself back and hurting myself furthermore.”
I turned my head to watch Mingi, to take in his expression, and I was surprised to see him smiling. He was gently rubbing his thumb over my skin, “Yunho’s parents got divorced around the time you two started dating, and his older brother moved to another country in order to pursue the career he’s always wanted, so Yunho had it hard. Between the two of us, he’s always been the stronger person, the brighter mind with never-ending hope, cheering me on and encouraging me to never back down if I had goals to reach. Even when I knew he was suffering due to his family’s situation, he wouldn’t let me comfort him, wouldn’t let me be his shoulder to cry on. He had a huge ego back then, refusing to show the cracks or admit that he was doing worse than ever, and I think he was abusing every relationship he had back at that time. He needed validation and love, he felt worthless and used after his parents didn’t even warn him of their split up, just showed him the documents and made him choose who he’d want to continue living with.
“His parents were good people but they handled some things in a shitty way, and it showed because Yunho lost himself in alcohol and meaningless relationships for a while. I’m not calling your relationship meaningless, because as much as I can remember, you were the only one who was able to tie him down for a longer period of time back then. It’s not you who wasn’t enough for Yunho, it’s him who wasn’t ready to commit and love others the right way. I warned him often to stop whatever he was doing, but he was addicted to the feeling and even hurt me in the process. I’m in no way invalidating your feelings and whatever you have gone through, I just hope you can forgive Yunho’s foolishness one day. He was just a kid trying to navigate his life as he lost his path for a short amount of time. I can guarantee he’s changed now, he’s better than he’s ever been before and he regrets everything he’s done. If you feel like it, I’m sure he would even reach out to you to apologize.”
Mingi’s eyes slowly fluttered open as he turned his face, and his eyes widened when he realized I had been looking at him the whole time, “I probably would’ve killed for this information back in highschool, it would’ve made things a lot less complicated for me if he was just honest and explained things before he left me. It wasn’t always easy growing up without a father, and despite never caring much about what others said, Yunho made me feel unworthy and undesirable and perhaps it’s that which hurt more and not even the fact that he left me. I knew relationships didn’t always last, but I didn’t expect him to be such a huge asshole.”
Mingi snickered and bit his lower lip as I rolled my eyes, trying to restrain the giggle that threatened to bubble through, “Yunho would be digging his own grave right now if he were to hear us, too embarrassed and ashamed of himself to even apologize.”
“Serves him right.” I couldn’t help but laugh and Mingi did the same, looking content and not bothered by the nature of our conversation. After all, it was him who was curious about it and I had nothing to hide from him anymore, “What about you? Any past girlfriends I have to look out for?”
My tone was teasing and Mingi instantly flushed, turning his head away as if that would’ve hidden it. His glasses were placed between us and he cleared his throat as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Well, I wasn’t a heartthrob like my lovely best friend, so I didn’t date many girls.”
I raised my eyebrows, prompting Mingi to continue speaking as he sighed, “I dated a girl back in highschool for a few months, but I don’t know. She was nagging and I didn’t like the way she berated me whenever things didn’t go her way, so I broke up quickly with her. After that, I just wasn’t in the mood to date anyone. I was content with watching anime and reading my mangas and hanging out with Yunho.”
I grinned and pushed up onto my elbows, wiggling my eyebrows at Mingi when he quickly averted his eyes, “And in university? Come on, don’t be shy now, where’s the cocky and annoying Mingi I despised?”
“You were into it, don’t lie.” Mingi chuckled as I scoffed, but I couldn’t find myself to correct him. Maybe I was into it, but he didn’t have to know, his ego was big enough already. After a longer pause and a squeeze of his hand, he gave in and groaned, “Yeah, fine, I dated casually a few people but wasn’t into any of them much. I feel like nobody has ever seen past my looks or the fact that I have a band and sing, so I didn’t feel like being with someone who only wanted me for my looks and for the far-fetched idea that I’d become famous one day, subsequently making them famous too so that they could parade around saying their boyfriend is a rockstar.”
“It’s not a far-fetched idea, Mingi.” I muttered and he looked up at me again, looking hopeful, “It’s good to know, though, that I won’t have to fight any jealous exes in the near future.”
“It’s rather the exes I’d be worried about,” He snickered, and as I narrowed my eyes, a cheeky smile was back on his lips, “you are the jealous type, not them—”
“Now that’s simply not true.” I huffed and fell back, glaring up at the new moon Mingi had hung up in the fort, “I’m not the jealous type.”
“Are you not?” His voice dripped with tease and I rolled my eyes, “Because I’m pretty sure you don’t like Mina—”
“Who’s Mina?” I interrupted, eyebrows furrowing as I cast a glance his way.
“The blonde girl, my fan.” I gulped, suddenly feeling an unexplainable drop in my stomach and a scowl on my face as I turned my head further away so that Mingi couldn’t see it. Yeah, I simply couldn’t stand her. Mingi started laughing loudly and I huffed as I retracted my hand from his, crossing my arms in front of my chest. It only made him laugh harder, and soon I found myself grinning, his deep laugh infectious.
“I’m not jealous of her, though.” I tried to defend myself but it fell on deaf ears as Mingi continued snickering.
“I don’t mind.”
“Of course you don’t.”
Mingi chuckled at my scoff and then it was silent again as I felt my heart rate settle, Mingi’s breaths stable and loud in the fort. The sounds of nature alongside the projection of the creek would be able to lull me to sleep, but Mingi spoke up again before that could happen, “Remember when we were in the library all those months ago and I flipped through your sketchbook without permission?”
I hummed and gave him a pointed stare, making Mingi smile at me sheepishly, “Well, sorry about that, first of all, and secondly, there was a drawing of eyes which was scribbled over. That’s when you said those were Yunho’s but I’m pretty sure I can recognize my own eyes, doll—”
“Are you claiming again that I was drawing your eyes?” I raised my eyebrows and Mingi pursed his lips as he nodded, “I feel like we’ve had this discussion a million times before, Mings.”
Mingi chuckled and then shrugged, playing with the beads of his bracelet, “Yeah, but hearing you confirm it again would be nice.”
I sighed but gave in nonetheless, I would adhere to his wishes only today, “Yes, Mingi, my sketchbook is full of your eyes, of your face, of your body, of you performing on stage, of you sitting in your car—of you.”
I didn’t expect to see his face, even his ears, turn red in a second, eyes widening as his mouth fell open. For once I felt like I had the upper hand, that it finally wasn’t him making me feel flustered, and I smirked, raising an eyebrow at him teasingly. Mingi cleared his throat and patted at his cheeks, clearing his throat again as he opened his mouth to speak, stuttering a bit before a sound actually came out, “Well, I—uh, I wasn’t expecting such honesty. Thank you? I mean, that’s really cool, thank you. I knew you were obsessed with me since the second you saw me.”
And that’s why I mostly kept to myself about stuff like this, I knew it would get to his head, “No, I couldn’t stand you the second I saw you. Then you turned out not to be such an idiot and too annoying, thankfully.”
Mingi chuckled and intertwined his hands as he placed them behind his head, kicking his legs out, “Well, I actually knew you before meeting you at Outlaw. Wooyoung told me about Seulgi, and then the next day he pointed her out in the hallway and you were there with her. And, uh, yeah.”
It was my turn to tease him as I turned my head and grinned at him, “Did little Mingi have a crush on me before he even got to know me?”
I shouldn’t have felt so pleased by his sudden flush or the way he avoided eye contact, “Yeah, I did.”
And apparently, I was worth sticking around for so long, pushing to get through to me, to make me realize opening up to another person wasn’t such an awful thing, to make me realize liking someone else wasn’t the end of the world, and that I very much wanted to be loved and that I also wanted to love another. The silence that dragged on wasn’t awkward, but I felt Mingi tense the more I didn’t say anything, and as he looked at me with eyes that held light fear in them, I smiled. And then, I was turning onto my side and leaning over to kiss him. As always, his plush lips were soft and warm, welcoming and eager as I pressed a chaste kiss against them, trying not to smile but I failed miserably as Mingi sighed quietly. I pulled back as my intention wasn’t to turn this into anything deeper, but Mingi chased after my lips, our noses bumping together as I cupped his cheek with my hand, my hair falling around us as our lips pressed a little firmer against each other.
It was slow, neither one of us desperate or trying to prove anything as we got lost in the feel of the other, of the other’s warmth and taste—which was a mix of salted caramel popcorn and hot chocolate, Mingi’s cologne making my head dizzy as our lips slotted perfectly together, moving languidly against each other. My hand slipped to hold his jaw and he freed a hand from under his head as he held onto the back of my head, sucking my lip between his teeth without bruising them or nipping at them. I hummed against his lips and pressed another swift kiss against them before pulling away, my face hovering above his as I didn’t want to open my eyes just yet, basking in the feeling kissing Mingi brought with itself. Our noses bumped together again and I smiled as Mingi giggled, no doubt enjoying the proximity.
“So,” His voice was quiet and when I opened my eyes, I was met with an unexpected flush to his cheeks, that subsequently made me blush as well, “what are we now?”
“What should we be?” I asked, my tone warm as I bit my lower lip to contain my smile.
“What do you want us to be?”
“A couple?”
It felt like time stopped as I muttered those words, feeling nervous and scared, but so ready to offer everything I had to Mingi, to make him happy, to make him feel loved and appreciated. I never wanted to see him hurt, especially not because of me. I had seen Mingi’s smile before plenty of times, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the way his eyes disappeared and nose scrunched up, all teeth on display as he smiled up at me, making my heart flutter as I just realized something. I loved him, I loved this man lying underneath me and nothing would stop me from cherishing him like he deserved to be.
“Yeah, I want us to be a couple.” He spoke as he didn’t stop smiling, and I tried to keep mine in check.
“But we have to go on more dates, at least three more, to get to know each other better.” My eyebrows slightly furrowed and Mingi smoothed them out with his fingers tenderly.
“Of course, we’ll take it at your pace, I have nothing to rush for.” I felt grateful as Mingi winked and I pressed a swift kiss before I buried my head in his neck, letting him pull me closer to his body as I cuddled up against his side, “Can I tell Wooyoung at least”
“You think I won’t tell Seulgi?”
And we giggled together as Mingi pressed a kiss against my head, humming in contentment as our fingers intertwined, resting upon his beating heart. I’ve never felt more like I belonged than at this exact moment. Not even with my art.
Tumblr media
            By the time Mingi drove me home, it was well into the evening, the dark streets illuminated by the lampposts, some having burned down as Mingi turned onto my street. We didn’t feel the need to discuss much on our way back, our date was successful and filled with laughter and deep conversations that only confirmed my suspicions of Mingi. He was a good guy, too good to be true at times, but I was more than grateful that he was by my side.
His old black Honda Prelude came to a slow stop in front of my house and I unbuckled my seatbelt as Mingi turned his head and smiled, placing the car in neutral as he pulled the handbrake up. I turned and looked at him, our smiles almost shy as if we weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet, acting as if we wouldn’t see each other tomorrow. I agreed to let him pick me up for a breakfast date as we both only had classes starting at noon. If my heart fluttered and lungs convulsed at the thought of having Mingi pick me up tomorrow for a breakfast date, I would only admit it to my mother as now I had to explain why I wouldn’t have breakfast with her in the morning. I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, too excited to actually get the amount of sleep that was healthy. Perhaps I would even paint some more, for once, I wasn’t behind on assignments, but I felt the itch under my skin to create something new.
“Well,” I cleared my throat once the silence got too much, “I loved spending my time with you, Mingi, thank you for taking me out.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” He looked away abashed, but only for a second as he gave me a cheeky look, “I bet it’ll be hard to overdo my efforts now.”
“You wish.” I chuckled and grabbed my backpack from between my legs, “Don’t forget, I might be artsier than you are, love.”
It was certainly surprising to see Mingi’s face flush, ears included. If I remember correctly, Yunho’s ears always flushed before his face could if he was flustered, flattered, or embarrassed, and now I couldn’t help but find it endearing that the two best friends had similar mannerisms, “Uh—yeah, I—love?!”
I giggled and bit my lower lip, leaning over the center console with a cheeky grin, “Well, did you expect me not to call you nicknames? You call me doll, it’s only fair I return the favor—”
“But love?!” Mingi exclaimed, slightly confusing me as he rubbed his eyes behind his glasses, “I—I think I’m unwell.”
“What?” My eyebrows furrowed, suddenly concerned, “Why?”
“My stomach won’t stop flipping around and because I’m losing my mind?” Upon Mingi’s helpless expression and whine, my eyes widened and I fell back into my seat, not quite laughing as I couldn’t help but gape at him.
“Do I fluster you—”
“Very much so!” Mingi exclaimed as he hid behind his hands again and I might have malfunctioned for a second as I’d never seen him acting like this. Did he have a fever? Did a simple nickname turn him into a whiney kid?
“Well, it’s payback time for all the times you made me suffer, love.” Mingi looked like he was about to combust and I couldn’t help but cackle as I blew him a kiss before grabbing the handle to open the car’s door. But before I could step out, Mingi shot forward and opened the glove box.
“Wait!” He said hurriedly and I froze, looking at him curiously. He grabbed a black notebook and handed it to me, eyes boring into mine despite his still red ears, “Flip through it once you’re settled down, please.”
I smiled and nodded, feeling curious as I took it from him, and certainly blushed an ugly shade of red when he pressed a quick kiss against my cheek, making me stumble for a second as I got out of his car. It was his time to feel triumphant for making me feel flustered, and I couldn’t help but flip him off as his amused laughter was audible through the closed doors and rolled-up windows. He winked and waved cheekily before putting the car in first gear and motioning for me to head inside. Feeling giddy and curious, I waved before turning my back to walk to the front door as nonchalantly as possible, fishing my keys out of my pocket. Once I was inside, Mingi drove off and I slammed the front door shut, locking it quickly as I had half a mind slipping out of my boots and throwing my jacket onto the floor absentmindedly as I raced up to my room, not bothering to turn on the lights. I might have bumped into the edge of the railing and the edge of my door as I turned on the bedside table lamp, dropping everything on the floor except the notebook as I plopped down onto the bed.
My heart was racing as I got comfortable, almost forgetting my phone was in my back pocket and would be crushed if I sat on it, so I retrieved it and placed it on the bed next to me. My fingers trembled lightly and I licked my lips as I flipped the notebook open, surprised to find Mingi’s name written prettily on the first page with doddles decorating the rest of the blank page, all kinds of little animals and shapes signed by his friend’s names, no doubt them having drawn those in here. Too curious about the contents of the notebook, I started slowly flipping through the pages, eyes skimming over all the words and musical notes, Mingi’s handwriting was pretty despite it being rushed at times—most of the time.
Then, I flipped to a page that had my name only on it with a small heart next to it. My heart was suddenly in my throat as I took a shaky breath, flipping to another page, eyes slowly taking in all the words.
‘And the world is cold/But it's beautiful/I wish you were here now’, I could imagine Mingi’s soft tone singing these in a whisper before the beat picked up. ‘It's your magnetic hold/A gravity pull/I can feel you in waves/When your melody comes/It falls from above/I will not be afraid’, I gulped, eyebrows furrowing as I slowly traced over the words, Mingi’s pen having made an indent in the paper when he scribbled them down. Eager to read more, I looked further down, drinking in what I now realized to be lyrics, ‘So lost/Coming from me when I'm lost/You kiss my neck and then you're gone/Turn me off and turn me on oh/Eat up every word you say/My perception dilates’. I bit my bottom lip, heart racing just a little faster as I realized Mingi offered me a glance inside his mind, inside his feelings and how he’s viewed me and our relationship over the months, ‘Want you to waste my time/Mess with my mind/Fly me to the other side/Don't say goodbye to reds in my eyes/Love me enough to hate me/Waste my time, waste my time/Waste my time, waste my time’.
I gulped, suddenly feeling guilty for having tormented Mingi for so long, for having made him feel like I was playing with his feelings, ‘Like a phantom, I will steal your heart/Until we're dancing in the dark/Like a phantom, I will steal your heart/Until we're dancing in the dark’. I chuckled, imagining Mingi hunched over his desk with a frown on his lips as he jotted the lyrics down, then smirked in triumph at the fantasy of finally having my heart in his hands—and I think he’s rather close to achieving that now, ‘Chit chat, do you want that/Or wanna take me home tonight?/All this chit chat is holding me back/And I'm breaking just to bend your light/I thought I told you, I really need your sugar/A rollercoaster, I'm going supernova/Chit chat is holding me back/To you, you’. I tried to refrain from grinning too hard at the lyrics. Going back home with Mingi wasn’t a repulsive thought anymore as it would have been a month ago. No, now I would rather go home with him. I wanted to be around him, I wanted him.
‘Oh, my oh, my oh my/Why's it every night/I'm feeling so sleepless?/Oh, why oh, why oh why?/I'm losing my mind/Maybe you're the reason’, I couldn’t help but gulp at the thought of Mingi not being able to sleep, bothered by thoughts of me, ‘Started as friends, but less than lovers/It's all making sense/On days, I'm thinking about us/Yeah, I know I'm so selfish/Hate the thought of someone else/Making you laugh, smiling, happy, if it ain't me or myself’. I gulped, feeling like Mingi got a glimpse inside my head too, making me remember how quickly and easily my jealousy previously flared whenever I saw him talking to the blonde girl. ‘I was more than just a body in your passenger seat/And you were more than just somebody I was destined to meet/I see you go half-blind when you're looking at me’, my breath faltered for a second as I quickly read over the lyrics again, wondering just how obvious it was to everyone else but myself that I was into Mingi, that he was into me.
‘I, I, I never thought I'd find true love/I, I guess I wasn't looking hard enough/If my heart stops now, you're the one thing that made it all worth it/If the sky falls down, right now, you're the one that I'll worship’, the words had no reason getting to me, yet I couldn’t help but flush hard as I blinked my eyes and rubbed at them, trying to cool off for a second, but I was too curious of what more was in the notebook, ‘Well, I heard you whisper/To all your friends/I heard you telling them that/You need a man in whom you can depend’. I chuckled, feeling amused but completely in awe of Mingi’s lyrics, his words somehow making complete sense and almost like a challenge to admit he was right about me, ‘Well I'd be the gasoline/To keep you alive/And I'd be the cold, so unbreakable/We'd burn together straight through the night/That's alright’. And now I had no doubts that Mingi would do anything for me, but what he didn’t know just yet, was that I would be his ride and die from now on.
‘Oh, and my love/Did I mistake you for a sign from God?/Or are you really here to cut me off?/Or maybe just to turn me on’, and perhaps if breathing became harder, it would be obvious to anyone as I tried to regulate my breaths and ignore the flush over my body, ‘'Cause these days/I would be lying if I told you that/I didn't wish that I could be your man/Or maybe make a good girl bad’. I gulped and sat up straighter, flipping another page hurriedly to read more of the song’s lyrics, easily imagining Mingi up on stage, raspy and smooth voice blending into the microphone and making the hairs on my arms stand as we made eye contact, his gaze intense and sharp, challenging in a way that would get me all bothered and hot, ‘I've got a river running right into you/I've got a blood trail, red in the blue/Something you say or something you do/The taste of the divine’. And I honestly to God hoped to see them perform this song one day, curious of what the band would sound like together, of Mingi’s voice and his eyes, ‘You've got my body, flesh and bone/The sky above, the Earth below/Nothing to say and nowhere to go/A taste of the divine’. I was ready to turn another page when my phone dinged loudly, making me flinch in surprise as I was completely immersed in Mingi’s lyrics.
Mings 🖤: home i hope you enjoy whatever you find in there some are spicy lol
Without thinking much, I pressed the dial button next to his name and raised the phone to my ear, my heart beating out of my chest. It barely rang twice before Mingi’s deep voice greeted me through the phone and I gulped, mouth working faster than my brain, “Mingi.”
“Yes, doll?”
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
The deafening silence was filled with the loud thumps of my heart that only I could hear, and I was sure my pulse was way too high, but I couldn’t care less as I listened carefully to hear Mingi’s reaction. His gasp was loud as I licked my lips, eyes boring into the notebook again, “I read it, your lyrics.”
More silence, until there was a deep breath and Mingi’s raspy voice made me sink in on myself, goosebumps covering my whole body, “Good, because I think I’m already in love with you.”
I huffed out a breath, my smile was huge as Mingi’s chuckle that followed sounded breathless but somehow as if he was at ease. I couldn’t help but fall back on my bed, holding onto the phone tightly as I pushed the notebook to the side, eyes falling on my sketchbook, “I’ll send you something, listen to it now.”
“Alright, thank you.” Mingi hummed and then hung up, making my heartbeat quicken once again as I watched the dots in our chat move, and then a voice file was sent, with a message attached to listen to it with headphones. I quickly turned onto my stomach to reach for my nightstand, grabbing the headphones and connecting it to my phone as I placed it on my head, biting my lower lip as a familiar melody, lyrics, and voice traveled through the headphones, covering my skin in goosebumps.
『'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need
I promise you, you're all I see
'Cause I'm telling you, you're all I need
I'll never leave
So, you can drag me through hell
If it meant I could hold your hand
I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell
And you can throw me to the flames
I will follow you, I will follow you』
Tumblr media
❱❱ Epilogue
Tumblr media
A/N: Can y'all imagine this was supposed to be the last chapter?? lol, back in December when I wrote the whole plot this is how I tied everything up BUT THEN, maybe around two months ago I was tbh just gushing to my bestie about Mingi and some other things, and I realized, wait a minute-I can totally write this for LMLAR?! And so, that's how the epilogue came into existence, which I'm grateful for because I feel like it ends the story on a good note *cries*, would you like me to post the epilogue this week on Friday or next week on Wednesday? majority wins lol
Tumblr media
↳Perm. taglist: @orshii @jjoongstar @tinyelfperson @thestarskiller @zuuhaa
@aaa-sia @gong-fourz @a-tinycarat @sooberryworld @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad
@anastasiamin860 @yunhogrippers @vcutparis @tunaasan @blvckarabixnvoid
@yusalterego @arigakittyo @slowee00 @jaerisdiction @hey-syia
@vnessalau @oddracha @chatsgotmytongue @potatos-on-clouds @yunhowooyo
@watermelon2319 @yoongzsmile28 @klllerwaifu @apriecotte @hwasbbyg
@kyeos4ng @samiiy20 @woosanhobros @aswho1estuff @khjoongie98
@ateez-main-yapper @kang-ulzzang @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @ginger-mingi @redzie02
@unholywriters @autieofthevalley @roomsofangel @peachyy-joonie @baeksofty
@tunafishyfishylike @syubseokie @jycas @fandom-freak-geek @intaksfav
@itswaffleberry @e3ellie @skz1-4-3 @hoe4yunho @kyeomooniee
@winklehwa @eyesonlyformingi @khjssss @torieisawesome99
❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^
148 notes · View notes
yoonia · 11 months
Text
come undone | myg (m)
Tumblr media
⟶ Summary | As a reward for Yoongi taking you to the trip of a lifetime and away from your busy lives, you decided to surprise him with a special treatment to help him relax and for the two of you to bond as a couple. What you never expected was for him to show you a different kind of pleasure through it in return.
Tumblr media
⟶ Title | Come Undone ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Established relationship!au, Mature, Smut ⟶ Word count | 14,625 words
⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; brief mention of alcohol consumption, swearing, contains explicit scenes, including mud bath (which involves…mud), mud play, Yoongi tries to prank OC by dunking her into the mud, nudity, dirty talk, soft dom/switch!Yoongi, sub/switch/brat!reader, Yoongi may have an odd fascination on her feet, fingering, clit play, breast play, mentions of bondage, restraint (mild), sensory play, usage of pet names, sir kink, praise kink, begging, edging, ass slapping/light spanking, public sex, shower sex, hand job, unprotected sex (kinda…OC/reader is on birth control), rough sex, orgasm control/denial, implied creampie, aftercare
Tumblr media
⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi | Commission 
⟶ Read on AO3
Tumblr media
⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story was written as a commission for @pinkbtsarmy; I’m sorry that it took me so long to finish this one. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. There might be some changes added from the original prompt/details that we previously talked about as this fic completely ran out of course the moment I started writing it, but I hope you can still enjoy this story. Forgive me for the rough editing. Have fun reading!  Additional Note: This story is purely fictional, with the usage of bangtan members’/idol’s names as fictional characters. Any similarities in the usage of names for other characters and circumstances are purely coincidental. Some aspects of this story may not be scientifically or biologically correct, so please don’t take things seriously (and don’t do this at home without supervision!)
Tumblr media
This is what dreams are made of.
You keep reminding yourself about this as you try to relax. 
Because you have dreamt about this. It might have been a long period of time ago that you have almost forgotten what it was like to be daydreaming and imagining yourself to be in a place like this instead of actually living in it. And you have to keep convincing yourself that you deserve every ounce of the pleasure that is being offered to you, especially after the absolute hell that you had to go through just to be able to enjoy this moment.  
Looking out the window, you get a clear view of the thick, white clouds and the clear sky that is partly obscured by their presence. 
The sight should have been able to help you forget about everything that you are leaving behind, as this moment is something that you have been waiting for to happen for a long while.
The long, busy months that you had to endure before this long weekend had been a tormenting period of time that you just want to put everything at the back of your mind. The overflowing and frenzy-filled work, along with the family drama and crumbling relationships—both professional and personal ones—had tested every bit of patience that you now barely have left. 
And those dreadful months felt even longer when you could barely find any chance to spend enough quality time with your fiancé. Obviously, you have known this to be one of the risks that you had to take when you decided to have a relationship with Min Yoongi, one of the busiest and most sought out man in the country, but never before had it been this challenging. 
Matching up your schedule with Yoongi had become almost impossible for you to do, even with the help of his personal assistant and yours. While you had your own busy life to deal with, he too was swamped with his own busy schedule and had been busy flying off to various places across the globe with only a little time spared for him to spend with you.
If only the trip you are having this weekend had not been planned since a long time ago, long before your schedules collided and you were both thrown deeply into your bustling lives, maybe then you wouldn’t have been here today—sitting on what is probably the cosiest seat you have ever sat on your whole life, and flying on a private plane taking you halfway across the world, with your fiancé pampering you the best way he knows how. 
A private plane.
You feel giddy as reality sinks in and you are reminded of how inconceivable this whole thing is. To be able to experience such luxury while the world around you seems to be spiralling out of control sure makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world. And everything was made possible thanks to your wonderful lover, the man who is always willing to give you everything to make your wishes come true. 
Yoongi always goes far and beyond to spoil you. Whether it is by giving you something as lavish as flying you off with this private plane to a luxurious spa resort on a tropical island somewhere across the ocean to give you both a break from the hectic city life, or pampering you by doing something as simple as what he is doing to you now. He has your legs resting on his lap while he is giving them his full attention. His deft fingertips are pressing against your pressure points, starting from the soles of your feet and up to your calves, easing the knots in your muscles that you gained through the frantic hours leading to this flight. 
And he always takes pleasure in doing things like this, gaining his own happiness by making you happy. You obviously don’t mind it at all, since you know that he always has his ways to show you how to make it up to him once you are in the privacy of your shared bedroom. 
Speaking of which—
You enjoy the view as you lean back in your seat. Not at the view of the sky that you can clearly see outside the window, but at the handsome and talented man that you have the privilege to call as your fiancé. You watch Yoongi as he continues with his task, concentrating deeply while he is taking care of you and while being blissfuly unaware of the attention that you are giving him. 
Whenever you are together with him, everything feels right again. The calm and serene moment that you share together has always become your source of healing, a feeling that seems entirely evident right this moment, after being deprived of his love and affection and his whole presence as a whole for months. 
But there is something else that keeps nagging you from the back of your mind. A gut feeling that keeps reminding you to be cautious the moment you are alone with Yoongi, causing your body to be vibrating with anticipation since the start of the flight. Not even the mental exhaustion that you have been feeling is enough to suppress it. 
It would be hard to ignore it, knowing that Yoongi is a man who is capable of turning every single moment you share together into a risqué affair. Even a simple kiss would eventually lead to something else once Yoongi puts his mind into it. 
From the moment the plane took off, you had half expected that he would start something just to take your mind off of all the troubles that had been haunting you. And it would have been easy for him to start something within the long flight and with this much private space available for him to make use of. Yet he blindsided you by remaining calm throughout the flight and choosing not to initiate anything. 
Except for the harmless offer he made to tend your strained feet and give you a comforting massage so you can enjoy yourself.
Sighing deeply, you briefly close your eyes to allow yourself to bask in the serene feeling and try not to think of anything else. You raise your glass and take a slow sip of your drink to find some peace of mind, only to grimace as the champagne fizzles in your mouth.
“I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Yoongi says, making you look at him questioningly, before you realise that he must have caught you wincing and may have thought that he had been the one who caused it. The work of his hands comes to a sudden halt, though his fingers remain hovering on your skin, refusing to completely lose contact with your body. 
Yoongi looks genuinely concerned that you can only smile and shake your head at him.
“No, it’s not that, really,” you answer him with a content sigh. As you try to move and twist your foot, you realise that his hands have done magic to your body while your mind has been preoccupied with unnecessary things. Your muscles have grown more lax, with all the tension that you felt fading under his touch. “You have magic hands, I swear. I feel better thanks to you, and you really didn’t have to, it wasn’t hurting me that bad.” 
Another note to remember, you wonder to yourself as you twist your ankle on Yoongi’s lap. Never wear a pair of high heels when you are in a hurry to catch a flight.  
Especially not when you had to deal with a bunch of catastrophe getting in the way as you were heading towards your departure. From the small troubles rising before the flight—involving the flying permit and your travel visa—to the emergency situation at Yoongi’s workplace that came at the last minute. Then you had to deal with the long traffic jam on your way to the airport, and nearly forgetting to retrieve your luggage from Yoongi’s car trunk right before departing. 
With all of that drama already draining you, running across the airport in your high heels and almost spraining your ankles had only added the mental strain that had been weighing down on you. Much to your luck—or lack there of—as the unpleasant memories are coming back to you again after spending hours of trying to forget about them, you can feel the strain growing inside you again, negating all of Yoongi’s effort to rid of them for good. 
With another shake of your head, you take another drink of your champagne, hoping that the taste and the frizz would be enough to wash it all away. 
Oblivious to your mulling, Yoongi merely smiles and proceeds to rub his thumbs across your ankle. Right at the source of your pain. 
“You’re right. I may not have to, but I wanted to. You know that I would never deny a chance to touch and take care of your pretty feet,” he says, causing your heart to make a funny leap with that smile of his, while a soft giggle threatens to escape with his admission about his odd fascination on your feet. 
He often jokes about it whenever the two of you are alone, and you cannot imagine what people would possibly think if they should ever hear him say something like this. But with how many times he brings it up as an inside joke, sometimes you just cannot help but wonder if Yoongi truly means it. That the reason why he would always take his time caring for your tired feet any chance he gets actually has something to do with his secret obsession with this part of your body.
“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you? I thought I saw you wince earlier,” Yoongi asks you again while he calmly continues pressing his thumbs up your calves, while you just have to bite back a smile.
You were right, after all, about him catching you wincing earlier. Though you shouldn’t be surprised about it. Because Yoongi has always been quite observant of your moods, even since the beginning of your relationship. It would only take one look at you or a light touch on your skin for Yoongi to easily tell what is going through your mind and what you are feeling. 
And he would often make use of this ability, not only on your day to day lives, but also in the bedroom, when he takes control and claims his rewards after all the things that he has done to spoil and tenderly take care of you during the day. 
Drawn back to your dark thoughts, you whole body grows warm. Your skin begins to tingle right where he is touching you. As your anticipation returns, the sensation you feel from his touch grows rapidly, spreading through your body and making you feel like you need to cool off so badly. 
“It’s nothing like that, really,” you answer Yoongi while resisting the urge to down your drink. “I’m still feeling lightheaded after all that running around and dealing with the drama we got before leaving, that’s all.” 
With a small smile, Yoongi glances at your nearly finished drink and gently lowers your legs. “Hmm, if the champagne isn’t working, then should we order something else to make you feel better? I already asked them in advance for some of your favourite meal and desserts and I also got them to prepare a bottle of your favourite wine,” he teases you with a proud wink.
Your heart leaps a beat. “You—you did that for me?” you asks him, astounded at how in tune he is with your moods and needs before you can even express them. 
Yoongi responds by taking your hand in his and whispers, “Anything to please my kitten.” His endearment draws a warm flush through your cheeks, and it elevates further when he continues to speak. “After all,” he murmurs softly as he brushes his lips against the back of your hand, “you’re probably going to need all the extra energy that you can get once we’ve arrived at the resort.” 
If anyone else would have heard him just now, they probably wouldn’t be able to catch the hidden implications in his words and would simply think of it as his way to sincerely express his concern over your wellbeing. But you quickly recognise the undertone that is hidden in his words, as you have been anticipating this side of his to finally come out. 
The unmistakable twinkle you see in his eyes speaks of his intention even louder. It brings you back to the nights filled with his wicked little games, and those sinful moments where he would take you to a blissful place filled with pleasure. 
A surging heat rises in your core as your mind travels back to those nights. Then it emerges through a soft gasp as Yoongi presses a kiss on your palm. “Will it be the right time to once again try and convince you to put aside our clothes while we are within the confinement of our private cabin?” 
While your face heats up to his indecent offer, you can barely resist the urge to smile and let out a baffled laugh. “I was wondering when you were going to bring it up again,” you say to him. Because this isn’t the first time that he is suggesting this. Ever since it was confirmed that he was renting a private cabin in the resort where you will be staying at, Yoongi had immediately suggested to do away with the clothes while staying in the cabin.
“The cabin is located at a secluded section on the island, so nobody would see us anyway. Imagine all the fun that we can have without having to tear out our clothes beforehand,” was what he has often said each time he brought up the idea. And he always managed to make your cheeks burn when you tried to picture spending the time lounging in the private cabin while in the nude. 
Now, however, as you are merely hours away from arriving at your destination, you start feeling more intrigued at the idea, leaving your body growing aroused instead of feeling apprehensive about it. Even when you cannot possibly imagine what may happen the moment you are alone with him and with every piece of clothing set aside.  
With Yoongi, anything is possible. 
And you always love his sweet yet saucy surprises. This time, however, you have nothing to worry about when you think of what he might have planned, because you have your own wild card to use on him. A little surprise that you have prepared to make this whole trip more pleasurable for both of you.
“You know what—?” You can barely contain yourself just as you are thinking about your own secret plan, yet you manage to feign a semblance of innocence when you share your thoughts with him. 
“Since I’ll be making us both discard our clothes for the treatments at the spa once we get there,” you begin, referring and hinting at the spa treatment that you have booked at the resort for this weekend trip after he had the rest of the trip arranged, “I guess I don’t see why we can’t do the same while we’re at the cabin. Let’s try it and see what happens.”
Oblivious to your indecent intention, Yoongi seems pleased to hear this. 
With a soft chuckle, Yoongi lifts your hand to his lips again and kisses your skin. “Wonderful,” he gently says. There is a familiar slow drag in his deep voice which tells you that he is already working out a plan to make this weekend unforgettable for the two of you, not knowing that you are doing just about the same thing at the same time. “I’m going to make sure that you won’t regret it.”
Tumblr media
“Having any regrets yet?” 
In your eyes, Yoongi has an afterglow coming out of him. One that is undeniably deserving of him to have after the blissful release that you just shared. 
The gentle voice that comes from him when he is asking you this, along with the warm gaze he is giving you and the gentle touch of his fingers on your wrists, are all in complete contrast to how he acted merely moments ago. 
Looking closely at your wrists, right at the spot that he is now rubbing against, you can see some indistinct marks that are visible yet growing fainter now that your blood are flowing smoothly underneath your skin as they are being soothed by his touch. Each pulse of your blood feels warm, while in place of the straining exhaustion that you felt during the flight, a soft humming of pleasure is surging through your body. 
“Hmm—” you hum softly at the comforting touch that he is giving you and the waning pulses of pleasure that still remain within you, causing Yoongi to let out a light chuckle.
“Talk to me, kitten,” he murmurs as he brings one wrist to his lips and presses a kiss on it. “I need to know if I hurt you or if I’ve been too rough. I couldn’t help myself. After spending an entire day not touching you, the moment I got to touch your skin, I kept wanting more”—he presses another kiss and groans—”and more.” 
His words fade into another deep groan, as if the moment he closes his eyes, he is seeing himself making love to you all over again, doing all the sinful things which had led you to be in this position.
A mixture of pain and pleasure and a deep feeling of content rushes through you as you lean against his chest, bringing you back to the mind-blowing pleasure that he had just given you.  
Looking back to it now, you realise that you cannot truly blame Yoongi for letting go of any reservations once he was given the chance to. 
It was well in the afternoon when the private jet landed on the island. You were immediately welcomed by the warm sun and the fresh, comforting breeze that felt nothing like the stale and polluted air you had back in your home city. Yet you couldn’t really embrace it all when your mind was occupied with something else at that moment.
After Yoongi shared the idea of stripping down once he got you alone, you had expected that he would be taking you straight to the cabin to make it happen. That thought had led you to spend the entire car ride from the airport anticipating it, only for Yoongi to once again blindside you, deviating from the plan by instructing the driver to head towards the local marketplace on the other side of the island instead. 
You questioned his decision at first, before realising too late that it was all a part of his wicked game. That he wanted to make you forget for a moment about his illicit intention while making you wait until he would start touching you again. 
And his plan easily worked. 
The moment you arrived at the marketplace, you became completely entranced by your surroundings and any thought of Yoongi’s indecent plan flew out of your thoughts. With all the colourful trinkets, handmade accessories and art-pieces, and traditional-made fabrics in vibrant colours capturing your eyes, it was easy to get lost in the moment. Even Yoongi was enjoying himself as he gladly splurged through the market just to please you, spoiling you with gifts and souvenirs. 
His surprise continued with a short walk down the beach, where you enjoyed having your feet sinking into the wet sand and the waves hitting your ankles while you were playing chase with your fiancé. Then he led you to the fancy restaurant by the beach side where you had your early dinner. Accompanied by the view of the sunset and the gorgeous view of the ocean around you, and the man who was there to give you his full attention, you finally managed to find the sense of calm that you had been searching for.
Once he realised that you have completely forgotten about his perverse scheme, that was when Yoongi finally put everything into play. It wasn’t until the moment you walked past the threshold of your private cabin when you first realised just how far ahead Yoongi had planned the entire thing, once you failed to find your luggage right where they were supposed to be. 
“Remember what we talked about? Strip down and wait for me in the bedroom,” Yoongi gently instructed you when he noticed your reaction. “You’ll have them back when I say you can. For now, I want this thing off of you—” he said as he tugged at your summer dress, “and to see you on your knees on the bedroom floor.” 
Just like that, things heated up and escalated into a lot more. Right from the moment he found you kneeling on the bedroom floor, waiting for him without an inch of your skin covered before taking him deep in your throat. 
And things didn’t end there. As he took you to the living room where he continued pleasuring you in the most intimate of ways while playing his indecent games, taking you in all position on top of the myriad of furnitures that he could make use of. And then, right when you thought he was about to take a break late midnight, he once again took control of you, bending you over the kitchen counter after he found you making drinks while in the nude, accusing you of purposely teasing him with a sway of your hips while he took you from behind.
The night continued on to near dawn, as if time moved so slowly until the moment he took you back into the bedroom, where he tied your hands and ankles to the bedposts, keeping you restrained while he gave you an otherworldly pleasure that is still humming through your entire body which seems to be taking its sweet time to come down.
“No, I have no regrets,” you answer him with a voice that sounds unintentionally airy and hoarse. You can feel a moan threatening to slip out of you as you stretch out on the messy bed, giving both your body and mind a bit of reprieve as you lean against his bare chest. 
A content sigh slips out of your lips. This is how it is supposed to be, you wonder to yourself as you close your eyes and revel in his warmth, once you no longer feel the weight of the world on your shoulders. 
This is why being with him and submitting your pleasure to him feels so intoxicating. Because giving up control of your pleasure into his hands has always been the way to help you cope with all the hard times that you have to endure in real life. 
You shift in the bed to adjust yourself against him, and the warm flutters of your continuous orgasms are not the only thing that you can feel as you gently rock your hips. When the remnants of his release and yours begin to drip out of your worn-out core, a small amount of them left behind even after he did his work to clean you up after. 
Watching this, you can only count your blessings. Not only for all the blissful pleasure that you have been given through this trip, but also for remembering to take your depo shot on time before the trip. Because now you get to enjoy your trip and any intimate moments shared with him to your heart’s content without having to worry about anything. 
“Yeah, absolutely no regrets,” you hum softly while resting your head on his shoulder, drawing a chuckle out of him even without him knowing where your mind is wandering off to.
“How are you feeling now, kitten? Are you feeling any better now?”
Laughing softly, you hum against his chest before pulling away. “Much better, thanks to you,” you whisper to him, earning a soft peck on your lips which brings the gentle flutters in your chest back up. “It would be enough to help me sleep, that’s for sure. I’m just hoping that I won’t fall asleep right in the middle of the spa treatment with only a little time left to sleep.”
“Ah yes, the spa treatment,” he says with a smile, though the sarcastic tone in his voice is not too hard to notice. “Are you ever going to tell me more about it, or are you planning to keep your little secret to yourself until the last minute?”
Your eyes grow wide at his question. You cannot help but laugh and feeling embarrassed for being caught. “So you noticed, hmm?” you ask him, only for him to scoff at you. “I was planning to surprise you once we’re at the spa, but since you’ve been such an amazing lover through this trip so far—” 
You sit up and turn to face him as you finally spill your little secret. “Do you remember back when we watched that amusing wrestling match during one of our trips?” Yoongi merely raise his eyebrows in a silent question instead of answering you, so you continue, “you know, the one involving mud? The one that we later said it was hot while being messy at the same time and wondered how it must have felt like being covered in all that mud?” 
A deep, knowing look manifests through his gaze when he finally starts to comprehend where this is going. Biting back a smile, you continue by questioning him, “Guess what this spa resort is most famous for?” 
Yoongi sighs. “Let me guess, it’s not for their private cabins and the clear white sand on their open beach.” 
“Nope,” you tease him, shaking your head as he refers to the resort’s main selling point which made him choose this island to spend your weekend getaway, while you let him know the reason why you insisted to book a spa treatment while you are here once you found out more about this resort. “They’re famous for using scientifically processed volcanic mud for their healing therapy and spa treatments.” 
Yoongi blinks. “Why do I have a feeling that we’re not just talking about using the mud for facial masks?” 
“Well, I mean,” you shrug, “they do have that kind of treatment too, but we could’ve gotten them at the spa that I regularly go to back home.” You briefly come to a pause for dramatic purpose, making him wait before you reveal to him, “but that’s not what I’ve booked for us on this trip.” 
“Us?” he asks you with a grin. “Then what are we going to do with that mud, kitten?” 
You shift closer, unable to contain your excitement. “We’re going to bathe in it. We’ll soak our tired and battered bodies into the mud to get rid of all the toxins and to loosen our muscles up before we have to go back to work once the weekend is over.” 
Yoongi let out an incredulous laugh. “So—we’re going to have a mud bath?” 
You nod. 
“Together?”
You shrug. “I believe I did book us both a couples’ treatment package for the mud bath, so we’re in this together.” 
Hearing this, Yoongi looks a bit dubious at best. Yet despite his reluctance, you know that he isn’t going to say no to this. “It sounds…interesting,” he finally says after pondering about it for a while.
“It is interesting. I know it will be. It’ll be a new experience for both of us, and I know that it’s going to be fun. They said it’ll help us bond as a couple when we do it together,” you continue selling the idea out, loving how Yoongi seems to slowly grow curious about it more than he is hesitant about it. 
“Bond as a couple, hmm? Would it be more helpful compared to what we just did earlier?” he teases you while wiggling his eyebrows, causing your cheeks to heat up.
“Close enough, maybe,” you merely say to him, because both of you know that what you do in the bedroom together is already more than enough to strengthen the bond that you have created between the two of you. “But it’ll give us something to remember. And you promised to try new things with me whenever we have the chance to while we’re traveling together. You won’t regret it, I promise.”
“Alright, since we’re already here, and since you’ve been listening to me nicely since we got here,” he says while feigning a defeated sigh. “I suppose it’s my turn to take your word for it.” 
“That’s great. Oh, I can’t wait. This is going to be a lot of fun,” you express your relief as you kiss his lips, feeling hopeful about the upcoming new experience, while remaining oblivious to what Yoongi is secretly planning for you as a payback for your little surprise as he embraces you to sleep. 
Tumblr media
“Welcome to Pure Bliss Spa and Resort.” 
You have been feeling both excited and anxious the entire morning that you were almost shaking when you walked into the main establishment of the spa resort. The building itself is located not too far from where your rented cabin is. Just a bit deeper into the island and right on top of the hillside overlooking the spread of wide ocean. 
There was still a bit of a drive to get here, which allowed you to enjoy the sights around you even more—such as the private beach attached to the spa establishment which you haven’t had time to visit yet. 
From outside, the building looks quite glamorous as a private retreat. With a facade built out of natural stone blocks and strong column structures holding up its massive canopy, the establishment appears to you as if it is blending nicely into the hills surrounding it.
A different kind of vibe welcomed you as you entered the building, when you were met with one of the cosiest space that you have ever been to. Through the warm-coloured wood materials on the floors and furnitures, and the ivory and beige colours covering the floor, loveseats, and the walls around you, this place gives you a homy feeling that fills your chest with a sense of comfort even before you get to experience the healing treatments that they are offering you. 
It makes you feel as if you are walking into a warm embrace. Giving you some reassurance that it was the right idea to come to this place for a quick healing in this weekend getaway. 
You take a quick glance at Yoongi before responding to the receptionist welcoming you at the front desk. You have half expected to see him somewhat resigned to what you were dragging him here for, yet the clear and warm gaze he is giving you in return is telling you differently. Perhaps your excitement over the upcoming spa treatment is already growing on him, and it is making you feel even more thrilled about this retreat more than ever. 
“Hello,” you greet the receptionist with a smile, “we’ve already booked us the couples’ special package treatment for today. I believe it was made under my name.”
“Of course, may I have your reservation details?” With a nod, you give her everything that she needs to confirm the reservations that you made months ago. It takes less than five minutes for her to find all the details needed in her computer. “It is stated here that you have booked our couples package with the volcanic mud bath therapy and the couples full body rock massage. Is that correct?”
Again, you nod while trying your best to contain your eagerness. Relief washes over you as the receptionist clears everything out for you and says, “Your appointment has been confirmed, and the preparation for your private sessions is already set to go. Until then, you can wait in our guest lounge where you can enjoy our welcome drinks and snacks. Here are the keys to your lockers where you can place your personal belongings and retrieve the necessities that you will need for your therapy sessions. One of our staff will come to assist you and help you get ready for your mud bath session once everything is set up and ready for you.” 
After expressing your gratitude to the receptionist, you turn to Yoongi again to gauge his reaction. He seems pretty calm for someone who was caught off guard by your surprise plan. Though he didn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of soaking in a tub full of mud when you first brought it up, but there is not a sign of displeasure coming out of him while he is listening attentively to the receptionist as she continues to explain more about the mud bath therapy, before finally sending you off to the guest lounge where you can wait for your sessions to start.
A female attendant comes to fetch you and Yoongi at the lounge only a short while later. After showing you the locker rooms—where you are able to secure your personal belongings and change into the bath robe that they provided for you—she takes you through the establishment while guiding you through the next steps before your treatment. 
Through the short tour that she is giving you, you get to see the area where the massage rooms are located, and even get to take a quick peek at one of the vacant rooms which may be available for you to use later after the bath. You also get to see various other therapy rooms along the way, enticing you to one day try and experience them if you ever have the chance to.
Once you enter the baths section, you walk past the jacuzzi and sauna, and you are quite amused to see an indoor swimming pool that they provide for their water therapy sessions. Soon enough, you are heading towards the area where the rooms for the mud baths. Your anticipation grows when the attendant turns to you and asks, “Are we ready to head straight to the main course of your treatment?”
“Yes, absolutely,” you quickly answer, as you can no longer contain your eagerness. You slip your arm around Yoongi’s, and his lips curl up to a small smile as he looks you. 
The attendant leads the two of you through the hallway that feels slightly warmer and the air much denser compared to the previous areas. It continues until the end of the hallway which parts into two separate lanes, with singular doors occupying each of them. 
“We have provided separate rooms for our mud bath treatment to give more privacy,” the attendant explains as she shows you through the private section for the bath. “As you can see here, we have two types of rooms which our guests can choose—one with the separate, singular tubs, and the other with the joint tub that couples are usually more interested to try on. According to the booking details, I believe the couples package is the one you booked for today’s treatment, is that correct?” 
“Oh, yes,” you answer her with a smile. “It would be the first time for both of us to experience this, and I think my fiancé is a bit nervous about it,” you claim with a flicker of a glance at Yoongi who is looking at you with raised eyebrows, “so we thought that choosing the couples package would help us feel more comfortable as we’re trying it together.” 
“That’s a brilliant choice,” the attendant says, nodding her head. “Couples who came to us without prior experience to this kind of treatment have always chosen to use the joint tub to make it less awkward for them. We also believe that it would give you a wonderful chance to have a special bonding time with your partner.” She winks at you as she says this. “Let me show you where you are going to have your bath.” 
With your hand holding tightly on Yoongi’s cold one, you both follow the attendant as she walks into one of the rooms. It is a medium sized room with a stone tub right in the center of it which has been filled with an overflowing amount of smooth, creamy, grey mud. The tub is probably not that much bigger compared to a queen-sized bed, but it does seem to fit two person to lie inside it and have a long dip without feeling crowded. 
Just like the hallway outside, the room feels warm, but a bit more comfortable than the stuffy hall in which you walked through to get here. There is a subtle scent of lavender wafting in the air around you, which is probably what makes it feel less stuffy and more cozy as you step into the room. 
On either side of the tub, you see two long console tables made of dark-coloured hardwood. Each one of them holds an array of small candles, all having been lighted up with flames flickering against the flowing breeze, and ceramic plates holding up burning incenses that may have been the source of the delightful scent of lavender that you are breathing in. The lighting in the room itself is kept dimly-lit, yet the candles help illuminate the room without over saturating the interiors, making it seem calming and relaxing instead of giving you a gloomy sense of space. 
“This is one of our couples-only mud rooms which had been reserved specially for your treatment,” the attendant says, stepping aside so you can have a good look at the entire room as you walk deeper into the center of the room with your hands entwined to Yoongi’s. 
You follow your fiancé’s gaze as he silently observes the filled tub, and the attendant continues to explain, as if noticing where Yoongi’s attention is being drawn towards. “As you can see, we have prepared for you our special mud with the right temperature that would be comfortable for your first try. We only use the highest quality volcanic mud for our baths, taken from the local natural resource and processed exclusively for our bath therapy. As you may have read in our website, this mud acts as a detoxifier, with muscle relaxation and skin cleansing agent that will be activated under the perfect temperature. Rest assure, that we always replace the mud with fresh ones after each use and we have prepared freshly processed mud for your treatment today.” 
Hearing this seems to ease Yoongi’s mind a little more as he no longer seems as tense as he was before. The attendant smiles, obviously noticing this change in Yoongi’s mood and the astonished look on your face. 
“The recommended time for the bath is usually between twenty to thirty minutes, but you are free to end the bath sooner if you are feeling too uncomfortable under the heat. And you need to remember that you’ll have to step out of the bath before the heat starts to cool down, because then all the healing agents will no longer be active and the mud will harden on your skin. The lights above the door will turn on once the thirty minutes count is up and there will also be the sound of the bell to notify you in case you fall asleep or loose track of time—which often happens when a guest feels too comfortable under the warm mud,” she continues, pointing at the row of small lamps above the door, making sure that you would be able to notice them once they are lighted up. 
“Once you step out of the bath, you can proceed to the adjacent shower room where you can wash off the remaining mud on your skin. From there, you can press the bell or contact any staff through the intercom and someone will come to assist you and show you where to go for your next treatment. Do you have any further question?”
You turn to Yoongi, who still seems a bit doubtful, trying to see if he has anything to inquire from the attendant to answer some of the curiosity that you can still clearly see on his face. Yet he keeps his silence, so you figure that there is nothing more for either of you to say. “I think we’re good for now. All we have to do next is dip straight in, right?” 
“That’s right,” the attendant nods. “Just soak in the mud like you would in a hot tub, and let the mud do all the magic. If you have no further question, then I’ll take my leave and let you enjoy the bath. There are fresh towels and bath robes that you can put on either after the mud bath or once you’ve stepped out of the shower. A staff will come if you ever need any help. Just press the button on the intercom and we’ll keep in touch with you for further assistance.”
Once she is done showing you everything that you may need during your bath, you thank the attendant for her service and guidance, and she gracefully exits the room to give you all the privacy that you need. Just as the silence settles in between you, the excitement to start the bath grows on you while Yoongi appears to be completely fixated on the tub full of mud. 
“Well, this is—” he begins to say, and you chime in to finish his words,
“Exciting?” you tease him, earning a light scoff from him in response.
“Nerve-racking would probably be a more fitting way to describe it,” he says with a grin, though it is quite obvious that he has grown more intrigued by the sight of the bubbling mud before you now that he is seeing it for himself. 
With a soft giggle, you cling to his arm and tease him a little to help him ease up a bit more. “Oh, come on. This looks fun. You said you wanted to experience this with me.” 
Sighing, Yoongi looks over to the tub again and says, “I have to admit, I was expecting to see a pile of nasty mud when I first heard about this. Anything that would be—unhealthy.”
You tilt your head at him. “And now that you’re seeing it?” 
Yoongi takes one last look at the tub, squinting his eyes as he catches the sight of the small bubbles appearing on the surface and says, “It still looks nasty.” 
This time, you cannot help but laugh. “You heard what our guide said earlier, didn’t you? She said that it’s supposed to be good for your skin and body.” 
Yoongi gives you another scoff, though the dubious look he has been giving you slowly shifts into mischief when he sarcastically says, “That’s just her way of selling it to make sure that you’ll come back for more.” 
You can only shake your head at his comment and smile. “Well, you know that I’m already sold. We wouldn’t be here today in the first place if I hadn’t been,” you say to him, referring to when you first learned about the mud bath treatment while you were searching through the internet to know more about the resort. 
“Fine, let’s see if all that hype about this ‘healing factors’ from the mud is more than false advertisement,” he says as he presses a kiss on the tip of your nose. 
Yoongi walks over to the stone tub right after. Staring at the grey mess in the tub, he gets a bit closer so he can observe it further. He leans forward, his face hovering above the surface to feel the heat on his skin. 
The surface of the mud looks to be steaming, confirming everything that the attendant had told you about how they were keeping it warm while preparing this mud bath for you. You feel wary about the heat at first, before reminding yourself that the healing factors from the mud will only be activated under the perfect temperature. 
Curious, you walk closer to the other side of the tub and dip your finger into the mud. It does feel warm, almost similar to the temperature that you would normally prefer for your hot bath to soothe your tensed muscles. The mud feels just a bit slimier than what you had expected it to be as you pull out your stained finger and mesh it with your thumb.
Yoongi keeps his eyes on you the entire time you are feeling up the texture. “That looks,” he murmurs while frowning at the sight of it, “a bit gross.” 
“Oh, come on. Just get in. It’ll be fine, I promise,” you say to him as you straighten back up. 
Without waiting for him to respond, you start to peel the robe off of your body, making quite a show on it as you strip down right in front of his eyes. Yoongi never looks away from you, and you can clearly see his sharp gaze darkening at the sight of your bare skin. Tossing the robe away, you carefully begin to step into the tub, gasping slightly at the first touch as you slowly dip your toe into the mud. “Oh, my—” 
“Be careful,” Yoongi says as he rushes to your side. Gently placing one hand on your bare waist while holding out the other so you can have something to hold on to, Yoongi helps you to get into the tub and stays by your side as you adjust yourself in it. He continues watching you closely until you are settled nicely on the bottom of the tub, submerging your whole body into the mud right up to your neck.
“How does it feel?” he curiously asks you as you close your eyes briefly to enjoy the new sensation that is now engulfing you. 
You open your mouth to answer him, only for your voice to come out in a soft hum. 
After you are settled down in it, you find that the texture of the mud is quite—interesting. It is slick and heavy, and its warmth seems to be pressing against your skin, giving you soft massages which slowly help ease all the tension in your body. 
“It feels warm and relaxing. I can feel every tension in my muscles melting away,” you finally answer Yoongi with a hum as you lean back, resting your back against the back of the tub and finding comfort instead of feeling like you are being pressed down by the weight of the mud.
“You’re starting to sound exactly like the staff earlier,” Yoongi claims with a grumble, though you cannot miss the undertone laughter in his voice, as if he is amused to watch you enjoying yourself and finding some delight in being submerged into something that seems so—dirty. 
The expression that he is making makes you laugh, but you cool yourself down and straighten your back as you coax him to join you. “Come on, you have to come in and join me to know what it’s really like.” 
Yoongi frowns. “It doesn’t feel gross at all?” His lips turn down as he asks you this, but you barely notice it when you have been completely drawn to the mud, feeling amazed by how it feels on your skin. 
“No, it feels more like—” you answer as you slide your hands back and forth, feeling the weight of the substance against your fingers and your whole body as you shift deeper to relax. “Being weighed under a warm blanket. It’s not gross, I promise. A bit weird and new, but nothing that would make you feel icky.” 
Yoongi shakes his head and chuckles when he notices how entranced you seem to be. “Fine, if you say so,” he calmly says, despite still looking a bit unsure about all of this. 
Yet he still walks back to his side of the tub and carefully takes his robe off, getting ready to dive in. You keep your eyes on him the entire time, shamelessly watching him as he strips himself down until he is completely bare. He looks up just as you are perusing his body with your gaze, drawing a grin to his face. 
“You seem to enjoy what you’re seeing right now,” he teases. A bit more of his apprehensiveness fading now that he has his focus on you. Seeing that you are able to distract him from his discomfort, you continue eyeing him, humming as you openly appreciate what you are seeing. 
“I do, actually,” you answer him with a hum, which makes him shake his head as he completely discards his robe. “Maybe I’m just picturing you being covered in this beautiful mud.” 
Yoongi chuckles, and you are pleasantly surprised to see that your comment has somehow eased him up further. His smile only falters when he finally moves, carefully stepping into the tub with his left foot and slightly wincing when his skin makes contact with the slick mud. Once he steps his other foot in, he is no longer wincing at it, though he still appears quite uneasy about getting in. Yet he still lowers himself into the mud, allowing it to cover his entire body as he settles down right beside you. 
You wait until he relaxes with a sigh before commenting, “There you go. How is it?” 
His eyebrows are furrowed for a brief moment. “Tolerable, I suppose,” he says with a hum. “You were right about it being like a weighed blanket. This stuff is heavy on the body, and a bit—thick.” 
The way he says the latter—as the word seems to be filled with disapproval, while at the same time, sounds as if he is amused—makes you laugh. “Yes, it actually does,” you admit as you continue moving your hands around, staying close to the surface as you try to gauge the thickness and the texture against your skin. 
Lifting your hands up requires quite an effort. The way your fingers emerge from the surface while being covered by the mud seems like such an amusing sight. Curious, you raise your hand up and smear a thin layer of mud on your cheek. Unsurprisingly, it feels soothing on your skin, so you add a bit more onto the other side to make yourself a facial mask out of the mud. Your action draws Yoongi’s curiosity as he watches you playing around with the substance. 
“What are you doing?” he asks, sounding genuinely interested that an idea sparks in your head.
“Putting on a face mask,” you tell him as you dip your hand back into the mud, gathering some of them on your fingers while offering him, “want to try it?” 
“Why would you—hey!” he protests as you smear a small amount of mud on his cheek. He tries to wipe it off, only to add some more mud on his face as he brushes his mud-covered fingers on his skin. Confused and bewildered, he looks down on his hands before rubbing his face again, making more mess on his face when instead of wiping off the mud, he only adds more to it. “What the—” he laughs incredulously. 
“It’s fine. I’m telling you, it’s a face mask. Other spas often use mud for their facial mask treatments, so I figured, since we have a whole bath tub of it, why not put some on so we can have extra facial therapy?” you try to reason with Yoongi while holding back from laughing when you see the dubious look on his face returning tenfold.
“Hmm, is that so?” he teases you back, making you wonder what he is up to when he dips his hand into the mud and subtly shifts closer. The sly smirk you see growing on his face certainly has his bad intention written all over it. “Then, since we have all of this mud to use, why don’t we make use of the rest while we have the chance?”
Before you can figure out what he means by it, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, all while he carefully begins dipping your entire body backwards into the mud. 
“No!,” you scream out while laughing nonstop, causing all effort to stop him seem fruitless. Yet Yoongi doesn’t stop, though he isn’t going as far as actually submerging you completely into the mud. The moment you feel the mud touching your hair and coating the back of your neck, and once your breath is heavy from the weight of the mud pressing down your chest and the thrill of being submerged completely in it, he pulls you back up and helps you sit back against the edge of the tub. 
“Did I scare you, kitten?” he whispers against your earlobe, causing your entire body to shiver. Your breath is still ragged and your heart is still beating rapidly after his evil prank. It takes a moment for you to catch your breath, and once you are calmed, you splash a handful of mud at him to retaliate. 
“You’re so bad,” you playfully scold him as he draws back to avoid your attacks while laughing. 
“Sorry, kitten. I couldn’t help myself,” he says to you, kissing the tip of your nose and flicking at it, smearing more mud to your face. “You’re just so irresistible. And you did say that you wanted to try everything.” 
“Fine.” You roll your eyes and try to wipe off the mud from your nose and some that had gotten around your ears and your temple. “Now sit back and behave. We’re supposed to be enjoying the bath and have some healing, not play around like this and make a mess,” you playfully scold him, pointing at the mess on the floor around the tub which he created to distract both him and yourself from the odd trembling that your body is experiencing after his playful stunt.
 As if the thought of being under the mud, being made to feel helpless and finding trouble to breathe actually excites you in ways that you cannot understand. 
“Okay. Whatever you say, kitten,” Yoongi complies easily, something that should be making you wary. But as he settles back into position with his back resting against the side of the tub and his body mostly submerged in the mud, you decide that it would be best to join him and try to relax, allowing the mud to take effect on your body. 
You shift back in place, trying to regain the comfortable position that you had earlier as you settle down right beside Yoongi. Moments later, you begin to feel the effect of the mud on your body which is quite unexpected. You try to move your hands under the mud as you shift back, and immediately notice that not only do you feel like you are being weighed down by the thickness of the mud, you also feel as if you are being restrained by it. 
“Huh, interesting.” 
Yoongi has been sloshing around underneath the surface of the mud, moving his hands around to test out the thickness of the mud to feed his own curiosity instead of embracing it. But your comment makes him stop and turn to look at you.
“What is it?” 
You give him no answer and feel around a bit more. “Hmm, it feels a bit hard to move once my hands are lowered deeper into the mud. As if—” you stop to try again, trying to show him what you are trying to say, only to find that it is becoming impossible to move your hand further up, even when the surface of the mud starts to ripple around you. “It feels like it is holding my hands down so I can’t really move them as easily as before.”
Yoongi raises his eyebrows. “Are you saying that it makes you feel like you’re being tied down? Is that it?” 
“Yeah, that seems to be the case. Or maybe because what you did earlier loosened my muscles so much that my whole body feels lax now under the mud,” you answer him almost distractedly, as you are paying close attention to the sensations that you are beginning to feel all over your body. 
With your lack of experience of being in a mud bath before, you are feeling hypersensitive to every single sensation that the mud is giving you. The warmth that you feel massaging your nerves and the weight that is pressing down on your body are beginning to feel real good. 
And not just in a relaxing kind of way. 
While Yoongi continues moving his hands and legs around, allowing you to feel all the more restrained when you are unable to do the same with your own hands that had sunk too deep under the mud, you become more sensitive to how the mud is moving between your legs as you stretch them forward and slowly part them open. 
All of a sudden, your mind begins drifting towards all the more inappropriate things that you should ever be thinking about while being in a public bath. Yet with all the sensations that you are now feeling coming to you at once, it is becoming quite impossible for you to ignore it. A gasp nearly escapes you when you try to shift, when adjusting your position in the tub only leads to the mud touching your sensitive spots that are hidden underneath.
“Hmm…you know what? This does feel pretty relaxing, more than I expected it would be,” Yoongi suddenly says, though his voice seems to fade in and out when you are starting to lose yourself in a new kind of need that suddenly comes over you when the mud is starting to press down the area between your parted legs. 
“Is it now?” you answer him, though your voice sounds too airy, with your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths when you start feeling like there are invisible fingers pressing against your core. When in reality, there is nothing there but the heat of the soft, silky mud pressing down on you.
Surely enough, Yoongi is quick to sense this change of mood of yours. You can tell—even through your haze—when Yoongi turns his head to look closer at you and his gaze is locked on yours, searching, feeling amused and somewhat intrigued to see how your body seems to be reacting to the mud. 
“Are you okay there, kitten?” 
“Mm-hm, I’m just—” you sigh deeply with your eyes fluttering close, unable to hold yourself together when the mud moves, brushing against your bare pussy. It takes you another inhale of breath before you can continue to answer him, “I’m okay, really. I’m just enjoying all of this.” 
“Is that so?” Yoongi questions you. With your focus on the tingling sensation rising in your body and your eyes barely open to pay attention on your surroundings, you fail to notice it when Yoongi eases his way closer to your side. Until the moment you feel the mud shifts as he brings his whole body weight closer so you can feel his presence, with the new proximity and the subtle touch of his hand on your leg when he is searching for you causing the tingles on your skin to grow more intense. 
Just as the anticipation keeps building up, Yoongi finally makes a bold move and slips his hand between your legs.
He starts off by doing it lightly. A gentle tease at the are between your legs with his hand moving right under the mud. He barely makes contact to your skin, yet with the slight slosh of mud as he moves his hand closer, as his fingers are slowly reaching to the source of your heat, it feels like there is an invisible touch brushing against your center. The sensation sends a shudder through your whole body, bringing up a new kind of heat building from within your body.
Once he moves, not only the mud beneath but even the air seems to stir around you. And when his fingers finally find you, a light touch brushing against your folds with a thick slickness that is present between his touch and your hot skin, a spark lights up, your body jolts as a rush of pleasure strikes you so intensely. Though the weight of the mud keeps you still, restraining you under and keeping you from thrashing around. 
The pleasure that rushes through you comes in small spasms that begin from the depth of your core, slowly rising as he gives a gentle tease at your clit. The sensation coming from the warm, soft clay being rubbed against your clit and his fingers flickering at your entrance feel absolutely maddening, and you are slowly losing control of yourself. 
As the pleasure builds up, rising rapidly through his gentle touch, Yoongi halts every movement and starts moving his hand away. 
“Yoongii—” you whine at the loss of his touch, even though you can still feel the shadow of his fingers that remains in the sloshing mud pressing at your hot core, drawing a series of pulsing heat coming from within you.
“Patience,” he whispers, while he touches your inner thigh, brushing lightly in a teasing way which makes you want to push your hips up, fighting against the restraining mud to catch his hand. “How badly do you want this, kitten?” 
“I—” your words fade to a gasp when you feel the tips of his fingers returning, hovering close to your center. You cannot see it, but the disrupted mud helps give it away as his fingers are dancing close to your folds, keeping away just an inch to tease you. 
“Talk to me, kitten,” he mutters .While he is keeping his voice gentle, you can still sense the firm command that he is giving you, drawing the more submissive part of you to take hold. 
“I want it. So badly. Please, Sir, allow me—” A gasp stops you, drawn by the light touch of his finger on your skin when his fingers find your inner thigh. ”Allow me to cum. Please, I beg you.” 
“Such a polite kitten,” he praises, making your chest swell with pride which only heightens your sensitivity to his touch. “How could I not reward you when you beg me so sweetly?” 
“Yes, Sir. I—” 
Whatever it is that you wish to say to him evaporates when his fingers return to you, coming right back to where you want him to be the most. Almost immediately, you feel like you are about to erupt. The minor tremors which had been building before are now increasing rapidly, and there is no stopping it from escalating further when Yoongi abandons his gentle touches and begins doing it more firmly. 
Noticing how you are responding to him now, Yoongi decides to take more risk. Using the fingers that have been pressing against your pulsing entrance, he slowly pushes, sticking his finger inside you. He stops once he gets a knuckle in, and already your body shudders, while your walls pulse around his digit. The thought of any possible way there would be mud being pushed into you is brushed aside when your mind is muddled by the mixed sensations given to you from multiple things at once.
Yoongi draws back slightly and pulls his finger back out, using only his thumb to rub circles on your clit and distract you from what he is about to do next. Yet your muscles react before your mind can even process the feeling of his finger returning into your pussy, slowly sliding in between your tight walls, with your hips rising to chase him, denying his escape.
“Yoongi,” you gasp out his name, and he responds only by bringing his finger back to your hot entrance, not just one this time, but two of them, spreading your pussy walls as he slides them inside you deeper. “Oh! Oh, God—!” 
There is a dark flame in Yoongi’s eyes as he gives you his full attention. He can easily tell that you are getting closer to the edge. He can even feel it through the spasms coming from your delicate walls that are clenching around his digits as he continues sliding them in and out of you. At the same time, he continues rubbing your clit with his thumb in a rapidly increasing pace, adding a myriad of sensations flowing onto you at once. 
As your body begins to react to the heightened pleasure, the mud on the surface of the bath began to move around you, showing the world what is happening beneath the mud. Sliding closer, Yoongi slips his other arm around your back, holding your body up to him and keeping you from thrashing more wildly. His hand reaches your breast, and he begins to palm the soft mound, using the slick mud to easily rub and knead until you are arching against him in response. 
It only takes a few more passing seconds, a few more thrusts and rubs, with his fingers finding your hardened nipple to give it a pinch, and you are taken over by the wave of your orgasm, pushing you over the edge that you come so hard that the mud around you ripples wildly, sloshing at the surface despite keeping you locked with nowhere to go. There is no escape, as you are kept restrained under the weight of the mud and within Yoongi’s tight embrace as you are plunged straight into your climax.
Your cries of pleasure are threatening to join all the frenzy happening at the height of your orgasm, but Yoongi is quick to take action. He leans in to capture your lips and drown the sound of your moans before anyone passing by the hallway outside can hear you.
Yoongi keeps his arms around you as your body is taking its sweet time to recover, holding you up against him as he slowly pulls his hand away from your heat. He draws back from the kiss once he feels the shudders in your body subsiding, and your body slumps against him. Your muscles instantly grow lax in the aftermath of your climax and under the warm comfort of the healing mud.  
“What’s wrong? Are you feeling high from the ‘healing factors’, kitten?” Yoongi teases you as he slowly releases you from his hold, letting you slip back into your previous position in the bath tub. 
You open your tired eyes with a light chuckle. “Oh, I’m feeling everything. Thank you very much for your kind assistance.” 
Yoongi laughs at your comment. He seems pleased with himself—as he probably should—when he leans into you again, pressing his lips on your temple. It is then when you finally notice the mess that you have left behind on his body—the smeared mud covering nearly half his face that is beginning to dry out, and some that have gotten on his hair. You have no doubt that you are in a bigger mess after everything that he had done, yet you can care less about it, when the only thing that you can feel aside from the drying mud on your face, hair, and neck, is the way your body is humming softly with pleasure. And you can feel it coming from both your climax and quite likely the healing factor that the mud has given you.
Just as things begin to calm down, the lights above the door start flickering, letting you know that the thirty minutes time limit is up. 
“Perfect timing,” Yoongi says as he observes the lights and the timer beneath it. “Should we move to the shower to clean ourselves? We need to make sure that we didn’t have any mud getting into your private parts now, do we?” 
You wince at the thought of the mud reaching into the most delicate part of your body and immediately agree. “Seems like the mud is cooling down too, so we better get out of here.” 
While you are having trouble pushing yourself up with your legs feeling like rubber and your hands still heavy in the cooling mud, Yoongi manages to slip out of the tub with little ease. 
“Hang on, I’ll come and get you,” he says as he carefully reaches for the towels. 
After cleaning his hands and legs enough to move easier and then slipping into a robe to cover himself, Yoongi walks over to assist you, helping you escape the mud’s possessive grasp and holding you up on your swaying feet. 
Your chest swells when you see him coming down on his knees before you. With gentle hands, he helps clean your feet just so you wouldn’t slip on the floor, before helping you with your robe. 
You continue to cling onto his arm as you both make your way to the adjacent shower room, following the attendant’s guidance to find it. Stopping right in front of the alluring shower space, Yoongi slips his arm around your waist and sneakily starts undoing your robe.
“Should I help clean you up?” he offers, drawing a soft hum out of you when the thought of him pampering you under the shower seems enticing. 
“You want to give me a bath?” you ask him with a soft, tired laugh. 
“You know I’d do anything for you, which includes making sure that you are properly cleaned,” he teases you as he slowly strips you out of your robe. 
The remaining mud on your skin feels dry, and you want nothing more than to wash them all off to feel refreshed again. And then there are the underlying worries of having mud in places where it isn’t supposed to be. As if he knows what you are thinking, Yoongi coaxes you further by saying, “I was the one who made a mess of you earlier, shouldn’t I be responsible to clean everything away?” 
“I suppose you’re right,” you murmur softly as you turn around, pulling his robe so you can strip him out of it. “You do need to take responsibility for all of this mess.” With a single pull, you manage to undo the robe and push it off of his shoulders. Once the stained robe falls to the floor, you take his hands and begin pulling him with you into the shower. 
Any plans that you had on taking the lead simply fades when Yoongi grabs you around the waist and kisses you deeply. He keeps you distracted while he turns the shower on, surprising you as the water falls around you. 
You gasp into the kiss as the water hits your skin. Your entire body is still sensitive after the previous treatment that the water feels like light massages pressing on your skin. With your eyes closed, you allow your head to fall back and embrace the blissful pleasure coming from the running water. It feels calming and refreshing at the same time, until Yoongi’s hands come to your skin with their gentle touch which brings back the heat in your body. 
“Relax, kitten,” Yoongi whispers to you when he feels you flinching at his touch, though you make no move to avoid him. He smiles to you when you open your eyes and says, “Let me take care of you.” 
His soothing words help you feel more relaxed to his touch, even if your skin is still so sensitive, and there is a faint humming sensation coming from deep inside your core which becomes even more evident the more he keeps touching you. 
“If you insist,” you say to him with a hum. Then you reach up, brushing your fingers through the messy strands of his hair that are stained with drying mud. “But only if you let me do the same and help you clean up too.” 
Yoongi chuckles softly. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, as he begins rubbing the mud stains off of your face. “You know that I always enjoy it when you are touching me.”
With that, you quickly do the same to him, starting from his face, as you rub his skin clean from the mud, before moving to wash his hair using the shampoo that has been provided for you to use. 
Things become intense and quickly start heating up as you take turns taking care of each other under the running water. You take pleasure in the way he is tenderly washing your hair just as much as you enjoy doing the same to him. He makes your heart stutter as he traces your face with his lips right after his fingers are done washing away the remaining mud on your face and down to your neck, while you draw soft sighs from him when you do the same, as you clean his face, his jawline, and his neck from all the mud. 
Your breath quickens as his hands move lower to find your breasts. He takes his sweet time on your soft mounds, as he lathers a handful of the herbal-scented liquid soap on your flesh and starts rubbing, massaging them with his palms, and then moving to rub your hardened nipples clean until no more mud is left behind. In the wake of his touch, he leaves behind a trail of heat, surging all the way down your body from where he is touching you so intensely. 
The water raining down on you from the shower is beginning to grow colder while you are tending one another and washing away what still remains from the mud bath, yet his steady hands are helping you feel warm as he runs them down on your skin, going lower and lower, moving past your hips and not stopping until he gets low enough to reach your thighs. 
“Yoongi—” you cry softly as he runs his fingers along the inner side of your thighs. You can only let him as he grips at your thigh and slowly starts lifting one of your legs up, opening yourself to him. 
“It’s okay, kitten. I just want to make sure that we have your body thoroughly cleaned,” he murmurs against your lips, before giving you a soft kiss. “I don’t want to miss anything when we’re done here.”
By the time he slips his other hand between your parted legs, you are too delirious to give him a proper response. All that you can give him is a soft sigh as his fingers find your folds. The sounds you are making grow deeper, shifting into a series of gasps and moans as he parts your nether lips and begins rubbing his fingers gently around the sensitive parts of your body. 
Starting from your swollen clit, he moves his fingers in circles as he wipes away the slimy mud while coaxing a different kind of moisture to rise in its absence. Then he moves to your slit, rubbing back and forth until he no longer finds any of the slick substance left behind, and he doesn’t stop even when he feels your slick arousal coating all over his digits. 
Once he is pleased with the result, Yoongi presses down the tips of his fingers right at your hot entrance. He barely pushes his way in when your pussy reacts with a throb, every pulse that has waned down begins to come back alive under his touch. 
You start to sway, barely able to hold your weight with only one leg holding you up as he has a tight grip on the other to keep it lifted. The pleasure that keeps rising is beginning to make your legs quiver beneath you and your mind starts spinning, so you reach up and grab onto his bare shoulders, keeping a tight hold there for leverage. 
“Let’s make sure that I didn’t get any of that mess deep inside here as well,” he says, right before he pushes his fingers into your pussy, drawing a low, breathless moan through you when his invading digits are spreading your pulsing walls apart. A wave of pleasure rocks your entire body and you shudder, already coming so close to your climax even before he begins moving his fingers further.
“Is everything alright, kitten?” Yoongi teases you with a playful nip at the side of your neck. 
“Yoongi, I—” you gasp softly when his finger start getting deeper. “Oh, fuck!” you gasp before teasing him, “I don’t think that this is what they meant about using this therapy to help us bond.”
Yoongi chuckles softly. “What are you talking about, kitten? I’m just trying to be thorough.”
“Hmmm—of course, you are,” you sarcastically scoff at him. Yet your voice sounds feeble, and your moans are betraying you by showing how much you need him to go on.
“I can tell that you are properly cleaned down here,” he murmurs against your earlobe. “But why are you getting wet, kitten? I know that this isn’t coming from the bath earlier, nor is it coming from the shower.” 
You let out a groan. “You know that it’s your fault.” 
“Is it now?” he chuckles. “Is that why you are rocking your hips, kitten?” 
You gasp as you realise what you are doing, when your hips are moving back and forth and start grinding against his fingers before you can stop yourself. “I can’t help it. It feels so good.” You whine softly and nearly cry out when he presses down deeply against your sweet spot. “Oh, Yoongi—I think I’m going to cum.” 
“Already? So soon?” he groans against your neck as he presses a kiss there. He gives you a few more strokes, pressing deep inside your pussy, before pulling his fingers back out to stop you from embracing your climax. You open your eyes to protest, only to see his mischievous grin as he whispers to you, “What’s the matter, kitten?” 
“Why did you stop?” You pout, making him laugh. 
“Do you want me to go on?” 
“But we’re not finished yet,” you say to him with a soft whine. Looking away from him, you reach down between your bodies to find his erection and wrap your hand around its girth. Using the running water and the excess soap you still have in your grip, you move your hand up and down his length, rubbing off the small stain of mud which is still coating his skin. “You’re still a bit dirty here too, Yoongi.” 
Yoongi’s breath grows heavy as you continue stroking his cock, even when there is no more mud left behind. “You’re growing harder, Yoongi,” you tease him, “Does it feel good?” 
Opening his eyes, Yoongi groans at your touch. “You’re such a naughty kitten. I should punish you for being so bad.” 
“Hmmm—I think I do deserve a punishment, Sir,” you answer him with a low voice. “But can it wait? Please, Sir. I want to feel you inside me. It hurts. You promised to be thorough, and we don’t have that much time left.” 
Groaning deeply, Yoongi grabs your wrist and stops you mid-stroke and slaps your bare bottom to scold you. Once on one side, then once more on the other side to make it even. It draws a gasp out of your lips, while the pain quickly merges into pleasure when he briefly rubs against your tender skin.
“Such a brat,” he says as he steps back in between your legs and presses his cock against your wet folds. “Is this what you want, kitten?” he teases you as he rocks back and forth, rubbing his cock across your hot slit. You feel the tip of his erection pressing at your entrance, and you instinctively move to press against it, hoping that you can get him inside you. 
“Yes, please give me your cock, Sir. I need to cum,” you beg him as you rock back against him, enjoying the shudders rushing through your body which brings heat under the cold running water. 
“Remember that you asked for it,” he says with a deep groan as he presses forward, finally entering you with one firm thrust. You were already close, already sensitive with the orgasm you reached during the bath and then after while he was cleaning you off from the mud, and it doesn’t take long before you feel it rising back up again even before he starts moving. 
The first pulse of your orgasm erupts when he begins rocking his hips. He starts thrusting in and out of you in a rapid pace instead of taking it gently. His rough breathing falls against your neck, with deep moans slipping out each time he pushes his way deeper inside you to make you tremble against his body. 
“Did you enjoy the mud bath, kitten? Tell me what you felt while you were soaking in that messy mud,” he asks you with deep grunts escaping his lips, and without even once slowing down. “Talk to me, kitten. Tell me everything.” 
“It was,” you moan rather loudly as he thrusts forward just when you are trying to speak. “It felt pleasant. So good. Like the mud was massaging my entire body—” you stop with a gasp as your body starts rocking back against Yoongi in your desperate need to feel more. “Then I felt it moving around my—oh, fuck—my pussy, and it started to feel like it was touching me, rubbing against me.” 
Yoongi trembles against you as he feels your walls pulsing around him. Thinking back about the sensation that the mud was giving you draws the same exact reaction from your body as it did before. Only that they all emerge through you more intensely with Yoongi being embedded deeply inside you, his girth rubbing against your walls while you are reminiscing every single thing that you experienced while soaking under the soft, silky mud. 
“Then you started touching me, and I felt a lot more,” you continue with a strangled moan. “It felt like there were so many hands and fingers touching me at the same time, while the mud felt like invisible tongues licking all over my body.” 
“Fuck, that’s crazy hot,” Yoongi groans, and as he tries to imagine how it must have felt for you to find release while he was playing with you in the mud, he unintentionally pushes forward with one rough thrust, sending you rising against the cold tile wall with its force. 
“How did you—oh,” you moan when he shifts, finding a new angle which allows him to reach deeper. “What did you feel while you were in the mud?” 
Yoongi opens his eyes at your question, and his strokes slow down just a little as he recalls his own experience. His eyes grow darker when he shares them with you. “It felt warm. You were right about how it felt like the mud was massaging your body, because it felt the same with me. Only that”—he groans as he tries to remember everything and starts picking up his pace—”it felt almost like it was licking and touching me until I grew hard, almost like I was getting an endless blowjob while I was trying to move closer to you.” 
He starts moving faster again while being lost in his memory, as if he is trying to bring all the sensations back to his body again. “It felt so warm, almost like how it feels right now when I’m deep inside you.” He pushes forward again with a groan. “Only that this—the real thing—is much better. Way better.” 
A sharp gasp slips out of you when he goes back to his rapid thrusts, pounding hard into you like an animal. The sound of your bodies slapping against one another under the running water fills the shower room, while the sound of your cries echoes against the walls around you. 
“Yes, this is it. This is how it felt for me,” he groans deeply as he feels your pussy pulsing around his length, followed by the faint spasms of your incoming release gripping his cock with each thrust he is giving you. He reaches down between your rocking bodies, finding your clit and starts stroking and tormenting it until the waves of your pleasure wash over you and you shudder around his hard shaft.  
“Cum for me, kitten. Cum on my cock right now,” he commands you with a rough pinch at your clit, and you come undone in a blissful climax while he keeps stroking his cock in and out of you. 
Your bodies continue slapping against one another as he rides your orgasm. And he keeps going, continuing his steady thrusts until his body shudders against you as he finds his release, and he slides back into you as deep as he can for the last time as he lets himself go. 
The sound of laboured breathes fill the room once you both fall silent in your slow recovery. It takes a moment before Yoongi finally steps back and releases you, keeping his arm around your waist to hold you steady while he reaches out to stop the shower from running.
“I can see now why they said that this therapy would be perfect for a bonding moment between couples. I’ve never had so much fun as I have today,” Yoongi teases you once you are both dry and fully clothed under the robe, stopping any chance of him initiating anything else while waiting for the staff to retrieve you from the shower room. 
“I don’t think us getting frisky during the treatment and then after were the things that the staff meant when she talked about couples bonding over the therapy, though,” you respond while rolling your eyes. 
Chuckling softly, Yoongi pulls you close to his chest. “Probably not,” he says. “But nobody can blame us for getting the best of it by going a few steps further.” 
“Whatever you say,” you laugh at his playfulness, while almost forgetting that the day isn’t completely over yet. There is still a couple of other treatments that you will have to go through today before leaving the spa. Then you will be returning back to the cabin, where Yoongi will make good of his words yet again by claiming what he is owed. 
But his illicit games and his punishments can wait. Right now, you just want to make use of all the healing that the spa can offer, and enjoy it together with your loving fiancé while the constant hum of your pleasure is still clinging onto you. 
You hold his hand as you wait for the staff to come fetch you before taking you towards the next treatment, already feeling a new kind of excitement along with the contentment now surging through your body. 
This trip may have its ups and downs at the beginning, but after what you shared with Yoongi for the past few hours alone, you can already tell that this is going to be an unforgettable getaway for the two of you. 
One that you will definitely come to revisit in the future to find your sense of peace. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
⤑ Author’s Note | Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, and also feel free to leave comments and questions if you have any. Any kind of feedback is also welcomed. Thank you again for reading!
Tumblr media
— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Oct 29th, 2023
518 notes · View notes
weast-of-eden · 6 months
Text
I've been thinking about how I could contribute to the ACD/Granada Sherlock Holmes fandom for a while, seeing as I'm neither an artist, a writer, or anything actually useful lol. But then I realized something I myself always treasure are curated fic recs, which I could actually do! I've read probably like 25% of all the h/w ACD and Granada fics on ao3, so I compiled a short list for anyone who is just starting out with the fandom. Without further ado, may I present
Eden’s Top Picks for Beginning ACD/Granada Fics:
(edit: i made a second list here!!)
The Adventure of the Doctor's Heart by mistyzeo 12k | Rated E Summary: Holmes has observed much of Watson's habits and tastes over time, which is why it surprises him when his friend objects strangely to a folk song sung at the conclusion of a case. Disturbed by the Doctor's unexpected display of emotion, Holmes becomes determined to lift his spirits by any means necessary, with mixed results. Notes: obviously if you're going to read canonverse h/w, you are going to read mistyzeo. this one is just so good and angsty and features music (!!). it's got some steaminess but it also has wooing. basically it has everything you ever need. this is my odyssey, my iliad, my hamlet, etc.
Cameo by what_alchemy 8k | Rated M | For Archive Users Only Summary: Holmes and Watson become embroiled in a case Scotland Yard refuses to acknowledge. A soulmate AU. Notes: i honestly skipped over this fic for a while, since i'm not the biggest fan of soulmate aus. do not make the same mistake i did, because this shit HITS. this fic has hit after hit: soulmate-mark based case for our main duo, angst, hiatus feels, MORE ANGST, and ofc a happy ending. ugh. read this fic if you enjoy being happy.
A Tide That Does Not Turn by tweedisgood 3k | Rated T Summary: Holmes is a very bad patient with a devoted doctor who adores him. Watson wishes it was safe to speak up, but his friend is a tide that does not turn. Notes: do NOT read this if you don't like angst... ok now i'm sensing a pattern. anyways this is the first hurt/no comfort fic i read for this tag and i literally have cried more than enough tears over it. poor, poor watson :( iconic author though, read everything they write!
The Adventure of the Glad Outlaw by radondoran 7k | Rated T Summary: While Sherlock Holmes solves the mystery of a student's disappearance, Dr. Watson is more puzzled by the changing dynamic between his flatmate and himself. Notes: cute pastiche! a nice little mystery and a nice little get-together. ahhhhhh.... this fic is like cotton candy to me, so sweet and fluffy. defo recommend
Hands by MinorObsessions (draculard) 1.4k | Rated T Summary: Naturally, there are some things Watson thinks about Holmes that don't make it into the books. Notes: i'm also in the star trek fandom, so if you know anything about that then you know that hands are kind of A Thing in both circles and ergo i now Have A Thing about hands. so this is a nice little ode to holmes' hands, featuring some doctoring by watson AND a nice reverse appraisal at the end. it's so sweet :)
Conductor of Light by ColebaltBlue  1.4k | Rated T Summary: A Victorian stiff upper lip won't prevent you from falling in love, but it might prevent you from realizing it. Notes: they finally get their shit together! honestly i would recommend this fic to anyone just starting out with h/w fics in any medium. the characterization and dialogue is A1, and their argument is really realistic to me, idk. also features the iconic HOUN quote for its title so props to that!
A (Mis)fortunate Man by sans_patronymic 1.5k | Rated T Summary: December, 1880. Watson writes a note which may be his last. December, 1899. Watson writes back. Notes: READ THE TAGS BEFORE READING. this was a gut-wrenching read but god i cried at the end for watson. don't worry, this one has a happy ending. ugh now i wish there was a second chapter where watson lets holmes read the letters. to sum up: oof, my heart
The Second Smartest Man in London by FairSinner 73k | Rated E Summary: Dr John Watson returns from Afghanistan to Victorian London, wounded, traumatised and alone. When he meets Sherlock Holmes, his life begins to seem worth living again. But Holmes is a man who despises sentiment and Watson cannot seem to expunge it from his heart. Notes: congrats, you've made it to the end!! so now i must confess that it's been a loooong time since i've read this fic, but the private note i left on my bookmark was just "holy shit", so i'm sure it's a banger. i'm also sure it has angst because i love angst and i love bookmarking angst so i can read it again and again and suffer infinitely. enjoy :)
anyways, now that i've put these all here i realized how much i enjoy angst and hurt/no comfort fics. if any of you guys have a favorite fic you want to link or want to plug your own writing, feel free to!
328 notes · View notes
watermelonlovershigh · 4 months
Text
Spontaneous Pleasures {part 7.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)
AN: we're getting so close to them actually having sex. then after that, it'll go back to more mundane things they do in their everyday lives. sorry i keep dragging this on but i'm having fun writing this series. enjoy!!! and make sure to leave your ideas and feedback!!! xoxo
This story contains: fingering (both pussy & ass) blowjob, analingus, aftercare, comfort
{ housemate!harry - friendrry - au!harry - softrry }
word count- 2,159
After Harry spontaneously fingers you during what started out as one of your typical movie nights, you get a wave of dominance come over you, leading you to get on your knees and sucking Harry's cock while also eating and fingering his pretty little ass hole for the first time.
Tumblr media
> A few days later
"Har....H..Harry, mhm fuck!" you moan in pleasure as Harry fucks you with his fingers. What started out as a casual movie night, cuddling on the couch, soon turned into more when Harry's hand slipped into your yoga pants. Of course, there were kisses exchanged as well.
Grinning from ear to ear, he dirty talks, "Yeah, feels good baby? M' I makin' you feel so good? Fuckin' you with my, long, thick, fingers? Hmh?"
"Yes, yes, yes!" is all you're able to chant. It's rare for you to get fingered unless someone else fingers you. The angle at which you need to be fingered is something you've always found difficult to do to yourself. So you generally stick to clitoral stimulation or one of your dildos. But on the rare occasion you do get fingered, it feels amazing, when done right of course.
As Harry continues finger blasting you in the middle of his living room, on his sofa, he starts applying pressure to your clit with his palm, enhancing the sensation and causing your body to arch from its reclined position. The moist, squelching sounds reverberate throughout the walls of the house. Overwhelmed by immense pleasure, your mind becomes hazy and your toes begin to curl.
"You gonna come for me? Can feel you clenchin' down on my fingers."
You respond with a nod and out of nowhere, your orgasm hits you like a crashing wave. The intense pleasure you've been holding in your stomach erupts, creating a display of fireworks behind your closed eyelids. Your body trembles, your back stays arched, and your legs quiver as if they might close.
As you begin to come down from your euphoric state, the words "Oh my God!!" instinctively escape your mouth. Harry continues to pleasure you until he notices the signs of overstimulation and gradually withdraws. Now you find yourself lying on the couch, breathing heavily, as you attempt to regain your composure.
Rising to his feet, Harry states, "I'll be right back. Gonna get somethin' to clean you up with." While he's away, your senses begin to awaken again and you become aware of just how horny you still are.
Upon Harry's return, he cleans up the mess between your legs that he created from the spontaneous fingering session. Once he's finished with that, in a display of dominance from your horniness reappearing, you assert yourself by pushing him onto the couch and positioning yourself on the floor between his legs. Before Harry can utter a word of inquiry, you swiftly lower the front of his sweatpants, and he willingly aids in pulling them down even more until he's able to kick them off to the side of the couch.
His penis springs forth, looking as appetizing as ever. You reach forward and encircle his large shaft with your small hand, causing him to recoil slightly due to its sensitivity. Harry remains quiet, allowing you to have your way with him but his mouth is dropped open in an 'o' shape, breaths becoming heavier and more pronounced with each touch you give to him. Finally, you rise to your knees and lean over his lap, taking his dick into your mouth.
Upon feeling the head of his cock touch the back of your throat, he breaks his silence with a quiet curse of, "Shit" You adjust to accommodate to his size by tugging on what doesn't fit in your mouth, making Harry believe he's in heaven. Little does he know though, that what you have planned next will take him beyond the heavenly gates.
While removing your mouth from his cock, you continue to provide consistent strokes with your right hand as your face travels lower. When your mouth grazes over his testicles, Harry assumes you might engage in licking or sucking them, which he'd find incredibly satisfying. However, you exceed his expectations by bypassing his balls and positioning your mouth face to face with his puckering hole.
The act of performing analingus has never been your preference. You have only done it once, and that was with someone you knew very well. You would never entertain the idea of engaging in it with a one-night stand, as you had no way of knowing their level of cleanliness or when they last used the restroom.
However, you feel comfortable doing it for Harry. You're aware that he maintains excellent personal hygiene, especially when it comes to his bum, thanks to his experiences with men. He's well-versed in the practice of keeping his anus clean through regular douching and ensuring it remains free of excessive hair.
After gathering your courage with a deep breath, you plunge headfirst into the task at hand. Your tongue encounters the tense ring of muscles and slowly pushes its way inside. "What r' you doin'?" Harry blurts out. It's not that he dislikes what you're doing, because he fucking loves what you're doing. It's simply surprising, as he never envisioned you as someone who would engage in such activities. Nevertheless, he feels incredibly fortunate to have you in his life.
You pull away quickly with a smirk. Despite feeling a bit nervous about whether or not what you did was acceptable, you can see from his expressions that he thoroughly enjoyed it. "Did you like that? I bet you like having your little ass played with, don't you? I wonder if you'd ever let me fuck it. Would you? Maybe with one of my dildos, or I could purchase a strap-on. If I bought a strap-on, perhaps I could also fuck your throat. Just like you allowed that other woman to do. Make you choke and gag on my fake cock."
Harry has never seen you so confident with your dirty words. It probably has something to do with the orgasm he previously gave you. You're still out of it, he concludes as an explanation. And you referencing something he admitted happened in his past during that card game a week or two ago, he was hoping that by sharing that event, maybe, just maybe you'd get some curiosity and fantasize about trying it out on him. He guesses his plan worked.
Still breathing rather heavy, Harry answers back, "Y/n, you can do whatever you want with me. Anythin'. Nothin' is off limits." And he truly means that. You want to fuck his ass? He'll get on his hands and knees this instant. You want to fuck his throat? He'll open his mouth so wide his jaw threatens to snap. You want to tie him up one day? He'll tie himself up for you, if that's even possible. He'll be your submissive. The only catch is, you've gotta let him do the same things to you.
"Good to know." is all you say before continuing where you left off. You lubricate his tight hole with your tongue before slipping it inside and fucking him with it. Your right hand picks up its speed on his cock. Harry grabs the backs of his thighs to hold his legs open for you, his feet propped up on the edge of the couch, which you greatly appreciate.
After a minute of continuous action, Harry is nearing orgasm. His legs quiver, his breathing becomes strained, and his stomach muscles contract. As soon as you feel his cock twitch in your hand, you remove your mouth from his hole and proceed to place his dick back into your mouth. Although you don't neglect his bum hole. Slowly, you guide your left hand down until it reaches his tightening hole, then smoothly easing inside without any resistance thanks to the lingering saliva left from your mouth..
Just as you insert your fingers, Harry announces, "Y/n, baby, m' gonna come." True to his words, he ejaculates, releasing his warm jizz all over your tongue as you skillfully pleasure him. Simultaneously, you continue to stimulate his anus, ensuring he experiences the utmost pleasure.
Even after his orgasm subsides, you persist in pleasuring him with your mouth and fingers until he physically has to push you away, stating, "Enough, baby. M' too sensitive now." When he uses the endearing term, "baby," it fills you with warmth. Though it's mostly been used during intimate moments. You eagerly anticipate the day when he will use it more frequently and not just during your sexual activities.
With a pop, you release Harry's softening penis from your mouth and retract your fingers from his ass hole. Harry is left on the couch, panting like a dehydrated dog. He's trying to compose himself after what just occurred. You stand up on sore legs, from the hard floor that is, and go to the bathroom to get a damp cloth for cleaning him up with. He deserves aftercare too. While in the bathroom, you also wipe away the arousal that formed between your legs and change into a clean pair of panties.
Upon your return, Harry remains in the same position where you left him. However, there is a slight change as his head now rests against the back of the couch, eyes closed, and he's no longer holding his legs up. You step in between his legs and speak softly, "Let me clean you off" He raises his head slightly, his eyes barely open, and notices that you hold a damp cloth in your hands. Without uttering a word, he spreads his legs to provide you with more space and just silently observes as you lean down and meticulously cleanse his genitals, followed by his wet ass.
Harry's sensitivity causes him to hiss, but he relaxes once you're done. Placing the damp cloth on the coffee table, you stand up and reach for Harry's hands. "Let's go to bed. We're both knackered." Harry takes your hands and stands up with your assistance. Upon standing, he notices something shiny on the floor.
"What's that?" Harry questions looking downwards, prompting you to cast a glance downwards as well, seeking to identify what he's referring to. It's in that moment that you become aware of a small puddle, evidence of your overwhelming arousal while you were pleasuring him. Although you were conscious of your heightened state of arousal, you didn't realize it had reached a point where it leaked onto the FUCKING floor. This situation is unbelievably humiliating.
Stumbling over your words, you reply, "Ohh, um, well doing what I did to you got me wet. Like really wet. I didn't realize it dripped on the floor though. I'm so embarrassed."
"Don't be embarrassed, Y/n," Harry says softly, his hands cupping your face. "M' actually flattered that I got you so wet. It's an easy fix, we'll clean it up." With a nod of agreeance, you observe as Harry retrieves the cloth from the coffee table and bends down to eliminate the small puddle. In a matter of seconds, the area is completely cleaned and you both proceed to Harry's room where you'll be staying for the night.
Once in Harry's room, you go to slide under the covers when Harry suddenly asks, "Can we sleep naked?"
"Um, yeah if you want. But why?" Not that you have anything against sleeping naked but normally whenever you've shared a bed with each other, you have some form of clothes on. Typically you in an oversized t-shirt and panties, Harry in just his briefs.
As you both proceed to remove your remaining clothes, Harry answers, "I don't know. Just want to feel close to you, s'all. Your warm and your boobs make great pillows." That garners a laugh from you.
Now fully nude, he turns the one lamp that remained on, off and you each get under the duvet. "Come over here then." you instruct Harry. "Your pillows are waiting for you." He slides across the bed until he's settled by your side and gently places his head on your nearest breast while his top arm is slung across your belly.
In this moment, Harry realizes just how much he loves you. Never in a million years did he think he'd fall in love with the shy, timid girl who accepted his housemate position all those months ago. But gradually, after becoming friends, he realized how much fun you are to be around. How comforting your presence is. How you make him feel safe and warm. How you never judge him for his sexuality and accept him for who he is. He knows in this exact moment he wants to spend the rest of his life with you and you haven't even had sex yet.
But without a shadow of a doubt, he knows you'll be the best sex he's ever had and he has a feeling it's going to happen sooner than you anticipated. Like really soon. He can feel the sexual tension every time you do other sexual things. Tensions that make you just want to scream, "fuck me already." Soon can't come fast enough.
(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)
(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )
tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran
 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey
______________
My Masterlist Masterpost
The Next Morning {part. 8} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)
233 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Don't cha wanna dance?
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 30/31
Prompt: New year's resolutions
Rated: T
CW: Vague boner references again
Tags: No UD AU; dancer Steve Harrington; good neighbor Eddie Munson; Flirting; Sexual tension
Notes: Continued from day 22. This is for @sourw0lfs and @wormdebut specifically, who very gently bullied talked me into writing more dancer!Steve. 🩰
Tumblr media
Eddie has never understood new year's resolutions. He believes that, if he wanted to change something about himself, he could do it any time. Like quit smoking. Or stop biting his nails. Or be less of a goddamn push-over. 
Okay, so maybe the latter is something he should really, really work on, ‘cause it's gotten him into a whole shitload of unfortunate situations lately. As if chauffeuring Max to her stupid ballet classes wasn't enough. Now he's also helping out at the dancing school’s annual Christmas recital, because he's just such a nice guy, apparently.
While he tries to arrange the lopsided folding chairs into something resembling a neat line, he struggles to remember when he agreed to this shit. For the life of him, he can't recall. His brain was probably flat-lining when Max asked him, as it tends to do around a certain very hot dance teacher and his muscles and his tights and-
“Looking good!” 
He whips his head up. Steve is standing a few paces away. The tights are a pale pink today. Jesus Christ. 
“You too,” Eddie blurts. Steve's eyebrow arches and shit, he wasn't talking about Eddie, was he? “I mean, thanks, I … ow, son of a-”
“Oh, shit!” Steve is next to him in an instant, freeing his hand from the maws of the folding chair. Eddie swears, sucks his throbbing thumb into his mouth. “Sorry, these things are ancient. You need an ice pack? I've got some-” 
“‘m good,” Eddie says. Tries to go for suave. Fails because he's still got his own thumb up his mouth like a fucking two-year-old. “Had worse.” 
Steve’s face is a mask of doubt, but he doesn’t say anything. 
“Anyhow,” he smiles instead, putting the offending chair in line with the rest. “I just wanted to say thanks again. You're probably busy enough around the holidays, but Max insisted you'd be happy to help.” 
“I'm not,” Eddie says. Pauses. Grabs a strand of hair to hide behind. “Busy, I mean. I am happy to help, so … don't sweat it, or whatever.” 
A heartbeat passes in awkward silence. 
“So, what's with the, um …” Eddie says. Watches how Steve tilts his head at him, hair swooshing with the motion. Briefly considers stuffing his thumb back in his mouth to shut himself up. “... with the y’know. The getup.” 
Something flashes across Steve’s face, something dangerously akin to hurt. 
“What?” he asks, doing a hesitant three-sixty. “Something wrong with it?” 
Screw the thumb, Eddie thinks. He needs to find a way to fit his entire hand in there. And Steve, for what it’s worth, needs to stop twirling, or they're about to have a massive fucking problem.
“It’s fine!” he says. Maybe a bit too fast, because he thinks Steve’s mouth curls into a smug smile. “I just mean, um … you’re not … dancing today, are you?” 
Is he? Oh dear God, please no. The place is gonna be swarming with proud parents and relatives, Eddie is not ready for the inevitable consequences of Steve in his pink tights on that stage. Not in the skinny jeans he had to wear today, stupid fucking moron that he is. 
“Huh? No, tonight is all about the girls,” Steve says. Eddie is so busy sighing in relief and nodding that he doesn’t catch the next words.
“Sorry, what?” 
“That other recital I was talking about earlier? You coming to that, too?” Steve repeats, and fuck, what other recital? Eddie really needs to work on his listening skills. If he actually listened instead of staring at the guy like a catatonic caveman every so often, he might be able to maintain a halfway intelligent conversation. 
He’d also probably know why Steve is suddenly coming closer. Eddie tries to take a frantic step backwards and almost crashes into the folding chairs. 
“Oh, erm …,” he stammers. “When was it again?” 
Stever reaches up to run a hand through his hair, boyish and bashful. 
“Um, New Year's Eve,” he says apologetically. “I totally understand if you already have plans, it's just… There's a little get-together after the show, too, with drinks and snacks, and I thought-”
“Sure, I'll be there,” Eddie says. 
See, what did he say? Total push-over. 
The thing is, with the way Steve’s eyes light up, he can't really find it in himself to regret it. 
*
“Ew, what happened to your finger?” Max looks about as disgusted as she sounds. Which is probably fair, because Eddie’s thumb has turned a vibrant purple. 
“These little babies did,” Eddie gestures offhandedly at the chairs they're stacking against the wall. “So be careful.” 
“Were you staring at Steve again?” 
“Fuck off, I wasn't.” 
She pushes the hair that has come loose from its bun out of her eyes so she can give him a deadpan stare. Eddie glowers right back. 
“And even if I was, what's it to you? You can be glad I keep showing up to these gigs. Today, on New Year's Eve, it's really getting-” 
“What are you on about?” Her entire face scrunches up in confusion. “There's no recital on-” 
“Oh no?” Eddie pulls the flier Steve gave him from his pocket and pushes it into her chest. “Then what's this?” 
“That's not our school, dumbass. Check the address.” 
She studies it for a second.
“Huh? What d'you…?” Eddie is already squinting at the letters again. Sure enough, the address doesn't match the one he's been driving Max to. Instead, it's somewhere downtown. “What?” 
“That's the studio Steve goes to,” Max has already returned to stacking chairs. “Super fancy place. He used to be a pro, y’know? Before he tore that muscle?” 
When Eddie doesn’t reply, she tugs the flier from his limp fingers, folds it neatly and puts it into his jacket pocket. 
“Happy new year, doofus. Better wear bulky pants.” 
Tumblr media
All my holiday drabbles
348 notes · View notes
shadow4-1 · 4 months
Note
bro this MIGHT come off as the cringiest thing ever known to mankind but im probably the biggest game geek god has ever laid hands on so;
part time game developer!reader (or something like that anyways) was bored one day and decided to start to yk develop a game - in this au the cod games ovbi dont exist - but she makes a little demo of cod.. and when one day on base soap or some1 catches reader writing ideas and such (obviously not the actual missions they go on - that’s confidential) something in a note book he tells the others (more like gaz) and they get curious and bug reader until she tells them that she made a game demo including the 141…
and idk maybe she gives them the file so they can play it and they kinda like rate the things they say in the cutscenes or smth idk have fun with it
but yeah thats the idea thats been swarming through my mind for the past couple of days since i’ve found your account (WHICH I BTW LOVE i love how you portray all of the characters and shit)
byebye
Tumblr media
Oh my gosh not cringe! This is such a cute idea!!! (Also thank you for the really cute gif! I love puppies :3)
I'm such a huge fan of weird meta stuff in my fanfictions. Like, the characters know but they don't know they're in a videogame? Haha, ngl I've had some thought about this too! Lemme add to your imagine real quick:
You spent all of your early adolescence learning how to code and make lil' games on your shitty old laptop. Now, with the more advanced tech the 141 had provided you, you take to making even more cool things during your (limited) free time.
The first game you felt confident enough to show off was a rough prototype of a fighting game. It only had two characters loosely based off of both Ghost and Soap. You showed it to Gaz as more of an offhanded joke, but he was excited. He too knew some things about game development and decided to help you out on the project.
It still wasn't a polished game, per se, but it was playable. Soap caught wind of your game and begged to try it out. With Gaz's help, you set up the firmware using an emulator and the jailbroken game console in the rec room. You felt so shy showing off something you did for fun.
And it was a huge hit!
Even with only two characters recruits and officer's alike spent hours playtesting and figuring out how to make combos. The room erupted into cheers when Soap figured out the first finishing move!
"Oi, Bonnie! I think you migh've made something really special here!"
163 notes · View notes