#i haven’t used this pairing tag in a LONG while

[skyward-floored]

This is an earlier version of my fic Murkier Waters, which I’d saved because I thought Legend’s perspective was interesting, even if it didn’t end up working for the end product. It ends at an odd moment and is kinda messy so pleeeeaaaase read the actual fic for much better writing (and an ending lol).

Anyway, voila. Fishy Legend from a different POV.

————————————————————

“I think we’re lost.”

Legend groaned at Hyrule’s words, watching as the traveler looked around at the trees above them. He stepped into a particularly moist section of dirt while he wasn’t looking, which splashed mud on his boots, and he failed to hold back a sigh.

“I told you we should’ve turned left at that last pond,” Legend grumbled, and Hyrule shrugged with an apologetic smile, a bird cawing loudly in the distance.

Hyrule had sensed a great fairy somewhere in the vicinity, and Legend had tagged along with him, half out of curiosity, and half to make sure his successor didn’t get completely lost. He’d rather failed on that second point though, and they were now miles away from the others in a swamp unfamiliar to them both, getting more lost by the second.

He hated not having a map.

“You don’t think this is the swamp that the Smithy said still had some poison spots in it, do you?” Hyrule asked as he stepped over a puddle, and Legend hummed, looking around.

“How many swamps can there possibly be around here? I haven’t seen anything poisonous-looking though, so maybe Four was wrong,” he replied.

Hyrule nodded, waving a bug away from his face. “Yeah... maybe whatever was left here finally got cleansed or something.”

“Maybe.”

They continued forwards through the muck, swatting away bugs and avoiding one or two birds that swooped past. They had to fight off a couple of keese at one point, but that was the only thing that actively antagonized them, and their walk was fairly uneventful.

Legend wasn’t sure how long they’d been going when the forest opened up, a small lake coming into view through the trees, tall banks on all sides except the one they were standing on. The opposite shore was easily visible, but the water itself shone with an unnatural shimmer, the depths murky and dark.

“Guess we found our poison water,” Hyrule said with a frown, looking across the oily-colored liquid. Legend grabbed a stick and poked it into the water for a minute before pulling it out and inspecting it, but the wood hadn’t corroded at all, and appeared unharmed apart from the slick now coating it.

“Well it doesn’t seem like acid at least,” Legend hummed, giving the water a suspicious look. “I still don’t think we should cross it though.”

Hyrule didn’t appear to have heard him, suddenly perking up as he stared across the shore. His eyes shimmered a little, and Legend raised an eyebrow, leaning over and looking at him.

“Traveler?”

“I think the fairy fountain is over there,” Hyrule replied excitedly, squinting across the lake. “I can feel the magic way more clearly now!”

“Oh. Well that’s great,” Legend drawled. “Except for the fact that there’s a poisonous lake in between it and us, and even if it wasn’t poisonous, you can’t swim.”

Hyrule waved him off, rifling in his bag a moment before pulling out a pair of boots.

“Doesn’t matter, I can walk across water with these, poison or not,” he said with a smile, already slipping off his other pair and putting on the new ones. “It’ll be easy!”

“Well how am I going to get across?” Legend said grumpily, admiring Hyrule’s boots. He could tell they were magic just looking at them, despite their unassuming appearance. Well-made too, magic interwoven as the shoes had been put together, allowing the wearer to walk across water.

...He wanted a pair.

Hyrule looked at him in surprise. “You mean you don’t have any items that’ll help you get across?”

Legend kicked at the mud, mentally going through the list he had of all of his items. Of course he did. He had at least six different ones. Did Hyrule have no faith in him?

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well then come on! Let’s go!” Hyrule said with a smile, and without further ado began walking across the water, faint ripples emanating out from where his feet stepped on the surface.

“I need a pair of boots like that,” Legend grumbled jealously, then pulled out his ice rod to freeze a path he could walk across.

If he was alone, he’d just allow his mermaid transformation to take over and swim across, but he didn’t trust the murky water underneath him one bit. Hyrule didn’t know about his curse yet anyway, and he’d prefer to keep the number of people aware of it as small as possible. Though Hyrule would probably take it in stride, knowing him.

Either way, Legend wanted his feet on something solid, and the ice rod was perfect for that.

He was just glad he’d packed his snowshoe ring.

Hyrule was a small distance ahead of him by the time Legend was ready, and he smirked to himself as he watched the traveler, an idea forming in his head. Legend cracked his knuckles, then suddenly bolted forwards, freezing a path as he ran and quickly catching up to the other boy.

“See you on the other side!” he called behind him, and he heard Hyrule let out an indignant noise, the sound of his boots slapping against the water alerting him to the fact that the traveler was trying to catch up. Legend smirked, and flicked his wrist, slightly curving the ice and making it easier for him to gain speed as he charged across it.

Hyrule was fast though, and soon caught up, then passed him, hair flying in the wind as they raced towards the opposite shore. He didn’t waste his breath on words, merely shooting Legend a cheeky grin as he shot past, and Legend adjusted his cap with a competitive scowl.

He wished he could safely use his Pegasus boots on the ice as he watched Hyrule pull even further ahead, but he’d quickly slip out of control, even with his snowshoe ring.

But Legend was still fast without his boots and managed to put on a burst of speed, quickly pulling up next to the traveler.

Hyrule let out a breathless laugh, and Legend grinned back as they ran, sunlight sparkling off ice and water alike. He and the traveler were neck-and-neck as they raced, and Legend felt his annoyance at the day so far fade with every step he took, keeping pace with Hyrule as they raced across a likely-poisonous lake together.

It’d been too long since he’d goofed off like this.

The shore drew nearer and nearer, Hyrule and Legend both sprinting as fast they could, and Legend was sure that Hyrule was just barely going to beat him —

— Until a scaly green hand shot out of the water, grabbing Hyrule by the ankle and pulling him into the lake.

Legend’s happiness evaporated as Hyrule cried out in surprise, his yell cut off as he was dragged under. Legend jumped forwards and reached out for him mere seconds too late, catching sight of the fear in Hyrule’s eyes before he was lost to his sight in the murk.

“Traveler!” Legend shouted, voice cracking with panic, “Link!”

The water didn’t so much as ripple.

Legend stared for a only a couple more seconds, mind whirling, then he shoved his ice rod into his pack as he bit back a curse.

Hyrule couldn’t swim. Hyrule couldn’t swim and even if he could, some kind of monster had dragged him deep into likely-poisonous water, nullifying the power of his boots and very likely currently trying to eat him.

And Legend could easily save him with the magic in his bones.

Legend hesitated at the thought, looking at the oddly-colored water. He didn’t know what it would do to him if he transformed in its depths, what effects it might have on him if he swam around and breathed it in.

But Hyrule was down there.

Legend looked at the murky water one last time as he drew his sword, then took a deep breath and dove in without further hesitation.

The water slipped around him like a slick of oil, the familiar magic of his tail twisting around his legs as soon as he was submerged. Legend took the few moments while it did its job to look around, squinting as he searched for Hyrule, but saw no sign of him.

Legend’s legs finished painfully merging into a powerful cerulean tail, courtesy of the item he’d picked up all those years ago that had become as much apart of him as his regular magic. He shook out his fins, and finally saw something thrashing nearby. Swimming rapidly towards it, Legend spotted Hyrule struggling with a scaled creature of some kind, his face panicked as he held his breath.

Legend growled and prepared to strike at the monster, but then he took a deep breath.

And it burned.

The water was like fire the moment it filtered through his gills, sending flames searing all throughout his chest.

Legend gasped, but that only made it worse, more of the oily water pulled into his system, the taste of it sickening. He barely felt like he’d taken a breath, and each consecutive one felt worse then the last, stinging needles of ice spreading through his veins as he struggled to breathe.

Ah. Right. Poison water.

Which he was now breathing in, in no small volume.

He coughed, starting to feel sick, but then he heard a hiss and Legend was reminded he wasn’t the only thing in the lake. He managed to swing his sword at the monster despite the ache spreading through his muscles, and it screeched, slipping away with Hyrule still in its grasp.

Legend chased after it, ignoring the heavy feeling in his chest and the burning of his lungs, squinting through the murk.

He could barely see anything, surprising since his transformation usually granted him much clearer underwater vision. But despite the gloom and barely-there streams of sunlight filtering through the water, Legend finally caught sight of two glowing eyes, and he couldn’t help but return the hiss the creature sent towards him.

It was hard to fully make out, but he could just barely see green scales and red fins, glowing eyes and grasping claws that were still clinging to Hyrule, the traveler struggling weakly in their clutches as he tried desperately to escape.

A Zora. The corrupted version that lived in his and Hyrule’s lands.

...Obviously a long way from home, considering they were in Four’s era.

Legend swung his sword as the Zora abruptly released Hyrule and charged at him, eyes blazing. A shrill screech gurgled outwards, and Legend pinned his webbed ears back at the noise.

Claws slashed at his face and Legend reeled backwards, but he was satisfied to see a cut on the Zora’s chest. Black blood billowed through the water from both this and his earlier strike, and Legend was careful to avoid it as it spread, the dark cloud as black as ink.

This water was bad enough on its own— infected monster blood was the last thing he needed.

As if to remind him what he was swimming in, a sickening feeling abruptly swept through Legend, and he breathed in a shallow gasp. The taste of the water was all in his mouth, he could feel it and smell it and taste it and it was awful and Legend had to fight back the urge to be sick.

He gritted his teeth as his vision wavered a bit, coughing and fighting past the heaviness sinking into his limbs. Every breath he took he felt worse, every bit of water that rushed through his gills making his head grow thicker and limbs like lead.

If he was doing so badly, he could only imagine the state Hyrule was in, and hoped the traveler had managed to hold his breath so far.

If he hadn’t...

Legend shook his head. He couldn’t dwell on that. He needed to finish this.

Now.

The Zora screeched, and Legend watched as it streaked towards him, green scales blending into the water. Legend twisted away from it as it lunged, swinging his sword around, but claws gouged into his side even as his weapon struck the monster.

His side screamed in pain as his muscles ached, his lungs were on fire, but Legend threw himself forwards anyway, plunging his sword right into the middle of the Zora.

The monster let out an earsplitting keening noise, thrashing to get away from Legend’s sword, but he held tight until its thrashing slowed, then stopped. The beast abruptly fell limp, beginning to sink before it exploded into purplish dust.

Legend didn’t stick around to watch, darting for where he could see Hyrule struggling to reach the surface.

Hyrule saw him approach and his eyes went wide, eyes darting over his tail and scales, webbed hands and gills. He tried to back away, but Legend held out a pleading hand towards him.

“It’s me,” Legend warbled, ignoring how it hurt to talk, and Hyrule stared at him another few moments, gaze softening as recognition lit up in his eyes.

Then he clutched at his throat, bubbles trailing up from his lips.

Legend didn’t hesitate any longer, noting the blood in the water wafting from Hyrule’s ankle. He slung the traveler’s arm over his shoulders, and Hyrule didn’t resist, clinging to his arm rather tightly, and he began to swim for the surface. The Zora had dragged them deep, nearly to the bottom, and it was quite a ways upwards to go.

Legend’s tail seemed unusually heavy as he swam, and he found himself slowing considerably, struggling to focus on his goal.

The sunlight above began to smear, a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears, and Legend desperately pumped his tail, fighting to get him and Hyrule out of the horrible water. But his tail had gone numb, and the ache of his muscles and the fire in his veins and throat and side and everywhere were too much.

He wasn’t going to make it.

Legend gritted his teeth, and put all his remaining energy into giving Hyrule one last desperate shove towards the surface, feeling a spark of hope as Hyrule’s head appeared to breach.

Then he felt himself begin to sink, too weak to keep himself going.

Legend looked through half-lidded eyes at the blood he knew was his, wafting around his tail and shimmering in the weak sunlight. Even the smallest of breaths hurt, lungs and gills aching with fire, and Legend‘s eyes slipped closed, despite how he resisted.

He didn’t want to die like this, or at all, really... but he was content that he’d at least saved Hyrule from a similar fate.

At least he won’t drown... Legend thought as pain and darkness overwhelmed him, and his world disappeared into shadow.

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Egg Fried Rice

Rating: General Audiences Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Original Female Character of Color Additional Tags: Fluff, Mentions of food and alcohol, Flirting, Pre-established friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, There is some suggestiveness near the end, This is part of a series

Summary:

“I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I’m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.”

“The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand. 

“It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him. 

“You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 

Part 1: Sundane (it isn't necessary to read this one first, but it gives you some context)

A/N: What kind of writer would I be if I didn't use my personal issues as inspiration? :)

Read on AO3

He feels a little like a creep watching her this way, but he can’t help it. 

There’s something different about her. Suguru has been trying to pinpoint it for months - the change in her that’s made her seem less sweet, less timid and accommodating to the world around her. It’s almost as if there’s something that’s been lying dormant inside of her for a long time and is now finally starting to awaken.

Perhaps it’s the confidence she’s gained from the way she’s been sculpting her body. The little corner of the living room that they’ve designated as their home gym has undergone its own changes over the past half year to match her increase in strength and endurance: heavier free weights added to her personal collection, more resistance bands, a wider variety of kettlebells. She likes to say that she can’t completely change the body she was born with, but she’s trying her best to make it into the body she wants. 

He hasn’t said as much to her, but her efforts are paying off in a way that makes him look twice at her sometimes.

Or perhaps the change is because of her hair. 

After four years of letting it grow long, she’d decided she needed something different. He’d come home one day to find her in her bathroom with trimming shears in her hand. “I feel so liberated,” she’d told him, a satisfied smile on her face as she admired the haircut she’d given herself. He’d certainly been impressed that she’d had the courage to cut it at all, let alone to do such a good job of it on her own. 

He likes it. He thinks it suits her.

And while those things have brought about changes that Suguru can see, he thinks it’s probably the things he can’t see that truly make her look different. 

The sadness in her eyes is gone. He doesn’t see that wistful look in her gaze whenever certain songs come on. Suguru knows who those songs reminded her of. 

He doesn’t hear her crying in her bedroom anymore, the way she did every night for long months after the breakup. There is no longer the sound of her trying to muffle her sobs into her pillow. 

She frowns less and sleeps more.

She seems less… haunted. Suguru knows that those feelings that once pained her haven’t disappeared completely - and perhaps they never will - but he has noticed the difference in how she carries them. They no longer seem as heavy as they did before. 

He’s always liked the way she looks, but the things that are different about her now have enhanced that. 

They’ve made her more appealing. 

She hasn’t noticed him yet. She’s shimmying and shaking around the kitchen to whatever is playing through her noise-canceling headphones, chopping vegetables and combining ingredients to the beat of the song she’s listening to. 

Suguru could watch her like this forever, but he doesn’t want to get caught.

He waits until she’s turned part of the way towards the living room before raising one hand in a lazy wave to catch her attention. 

And then he promptly curses his own heart for the way its tempo increases as her eyes light up and she smiles at him. 

“Welcome home,” she calls loudly. She seems to remember that she’s wearing the headphones and pulls them off of her head to let them rest around her neck. “Sorry,” she says sheepishly, in a softer tone. “I can never really hear how loud my voice is when I’m wearing these.”

“Mm,” he grunts softly, making his way over to the bar that separates the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. He leans forward, squinting at the skillet on the stove. “What’s that? It smells good.”

“Just egg fried rice,” she answers as she stirs oyster sauce into the skillet. She looks at him over her shoulder. “Nothing as fancy as what the magnificent Geto Suguru would make for one of his clients, I’m afraid.”

“My clients are all rich, picky assholes with weird food preferences,” he replies. “I wouldn’t want what they eat anyway.”

She makes a little noise of agreement as she scoops fried rice into a bowl and sets it on the bar in front of him. “Beer?”

“Yeah, please.”

Rummaging in the fridge for a few seconds yields two bottles of the IPA they both favor. She smiles triumphantly and pops the caps off of them, setting one down on the bar and taking a swig from the other one.

“You allowed to have beer?” He asks the question teasingly around a mouthful of food, motioning to the clothes she’s wearing. “Thought you might be getting ready for a workout.”

“I was,” she admits, “but I realized I didn’t feel like working out tonight and decided to make greasy food instead.” She raises an eyebrow, taking his spoon from him and helping herself to his bowl of fried rice. “And anyway, I’m allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, Suguru.”

“The point of cooking enough for both of us is so we can each have our own… is it not?” He looks pointedly at the spoon in her hand. 

“It tastes better when I take it from you,” she laughs. She holds a spoonful of rice up to his mouth. He hesitates only for a moment before letting her feed him. 

“You’re definitely different,” he chuckles once he’s done chewing. He doesn’t realize he’s said the words aloud until she goes quiet, her brown eyes wide and staring. 

“Me?” She shakes her head, filching another spoonful of his rice. He lets her. “Different?”

He’s said the words now and there’s no point in trying to recall them. The question he asks himself now is how much of what he’s thinking does he want to reveal. “Different,” he repeats. 

She gives him a measured look. “Is that good or bad?”

“Isn’t that a trick question?”

Suguru doesn’t know why his rebuttal question makes her laugh, but it does. She doesn’t seem upset, so he decides to take a gamble and be honest. “I’ll say that it’s good,” he starts slowly, watching in amusement as she continues eating from the bowl of fried rice she’d fixed for him, “but I don’t want you to think it means everything about the way you were before was bad.”

“Oh?” She takes a swig of her beer. “And how was I before?” 

“Sad,” Suguru answers bluntly. “Heartbroken… insecure.”

The hand holding her bottle of beer pauses in midair, halfway to the counter. Instead of setting it down, she raises it back to her mouth, draining what’s left. “Congratulations on seeing something not many people have gotten to see,” she murmurs. “Me at my worst. How you can say that wasn’t bad is beyond me.”

“You’re still you, just different. More confident… and happier.” He picks up his neglected spoon. “You ate all my rice,” he laughs, pointing to the empty bowl in front of him.

She laughs with him. “I’m sorry. Here---” She leans over and kisses his cheek. “A kiss to make it up to you.”

He shrugs, trying to ignore the way an innocent kiss on the cheek makes him feel and hoisting himself off of the barstool to join her in the kitchen. He scoops more rice from the pan into his bowl, and she watches him. “You look good,” he tells her solemnly, his eyes still on the food. “Not just your body---”

“Oh, are you saying you’ve noticed my body?” She teases him, bumping her hip against his playfully. “In what way, if I may ask?”

Suguru actually short-circuits for a split second as his brain decides that it needs to conjure up specific images of the two of them in compromising positions. “What the fuck, Val… I’m trying to be decent here.”

His explosive words seem to catch her by surprise. “Wait… what?” 

“I said, I’m trying to be decent here.”

He expects her to laugh, to brush off what he’s saying - and what it implies - as a joke. 

She doesn’t.

“Since when have you worried about being decent?” She studies him, her head inclined to the side curiously. “You know one of the things I’ve always loved most about you is that you say what’s on your mind, no matter what it is.”

“I don’t think you want me to say what’s on my mind right now.”

She gazes at him levelly. “What makes you think I can’t guess what’s on your mind right now?” Before he can answer, she speaks again. “What makes you think what’s on your mind isn’t what’s also on my mind?”

He stands in the middle of the kitchen, a steaming bowl of food in one hand and his half-drunk beer in the other. There are a million and one thoughts racing through his mind, and somehow his brain pinpoints just one to voice. “What about… that guy?”

She takes a beat to digest his question and what it means. “He’s…” She trails off and looks briefly away from him. When she looks back, her mouth is twisted into a bitter smile. “Weren’t you there? You witnessed it firsthand - how it all blew up in my face. You saw it for yourself… I’m toxic.” She reaches out, plucking his IPA from his hand and polishing it off.

He tries - and fails - not to notice the way her lips fit around the mouth of the bottle, and the way her tongue darts out to taste the beer before she swallows it. “Toxic?” 

Her mouth twists again. This time it’s not quite a smile. “Toxic.”

“Hm. Toxic isn’t the word I would use, but that’s a conversation for another time.” Suguru moves closer to her, until he’s backed her up against the kitchen counter and there’s no space left between their bodies. “What you are is a food and drink thief,” he asserts, his voice low and quiet. “Fixing me food and giving me beer just to take it back for yourself.”

“I told you,” she whispers. “It tastes better when I take it from you.” 

His eyes are on her lips. “You realize I’m not that guy.” It isn’t a question. “He was a good guy. I’m not.”

“I know who you are, Suguru,” she laughs, a little breathlessly. “We’ve been roommates for three years now. I see how women look at you, before and after they’ve been with you.” She pauses, and her next words are pitched low and quiet. “And I know enough not to get attached. I’d be stupid to think I could ever fill that space.” 

“So you’re not looking to?” I’d let you, if you wanted. He doesn’t voice the thought.

“Why would I? I’d never be able to compare anyway.” She swallows the words she really wants to say, looking away from him again with a shrug. “Besides, aren’t you scared I’m gonna poison you?” 

Experimentally, he lowers his head and presses a kiss to her neck. He likes the sound she makes when he does that. “The new you seems like she wouldn’t give a fuck whether or not she poisoned me,” he chuckles into her skin. “Or anybody else, for that matter.” He raises his head so he can meet her eyes. “Am I right?”

“Maybe,” she assents, bottom lip caught in her teeth. She pauses, then: “I thought you were hungry.”

He casts a glance over his shoulder at his neglected bowl of fried rice. “I was.”

She reaches up, toying with the tie that his hair is gathered in. After a moment she tugs on it, letting his hair loose and recapturing his attention. “And now?”

He looks back at her. “The rice will be there. Right now, there’s something else I wanna do.”

“What a coincidence,” she laughs, raking her fingers through his newly-freed hair. “There’s something I’d like to do, too.”

Tag List: @strawberry1042 @darkfaerietails @jay220a @fattybattysblog @suguru-nugget @senseifupa @aleigant @gigiculona @rahuratna @tsukimefuku @whatshernameis

About Me | My Other Fics | AO3

End Note: This series will have an NSFW part 3. If you'd like to be tagged in it (or any of my other fics), feel free to let me know!

-Val 💙

[avaetin]

I'm trying something I've never done before. I think. A second person POV (Percy's POV) on a Percico prompt I'm currently working on. It's slightly sad. Just slightly. It's mostly fluff and domestic.

Anyway, it's a bit refreshing. And it feels a little more... personal. Because when I use 'you', it feels like I'm projecting a bit of myself to the character.

[marvelouslizzie]

A Lonely Night

summary: Your crush on your roommate gets out of hand. His smile ruins you in a way you never expected.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 

word count: 1.9K

warnings: 18+, masturbation (fingering, vibrator use), fantasies, daddy kink, no mention of y/n 

A/N: I actually planned this as a 3 part story where we see his POV as well. I hope to write the remaining 2 parts. I hope my inspiration lasts.

The gif represents the smile that ruined the reader. Who can blame her?

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing on such short notice. You're a lifesaver!

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

You don’t know how you ended up here. You had no intention of doing something like this. You didn’t intend to think about sex at all, especially not while your roommate is home. But when you saw his charming smile and those shiny blue eyes, you felt a jolt of electricity running through your body. It somehow felt like a 0.5-millisecond orgasm. It doesn’t matter how short it was, though, because you can feel the dampness of your panties, so you have no other choice but do something about it.

The TV is on, and it sounds like Bucky is watching the news. That’s not the sexiest thing to hear while touching yourself, yet you are grateful there’s something that covers the noises you make. It’s not like you are a really loud person. Especially not while touching yourself, but this time… You feel there’s something different about this time. The way your body responds to your own touch is not something you’ve experienced before. Neither is the wetness that is dripping out of you. It’s like your body is desperate for this. Desperate for attention and release.

You keep rubbing your pussy, touching all the different spots that make yourself feel good, and your whole body starts to shake, your ears buzzing, and your mind completely blank except for the image of Bucky. His smile and those blue eyes... You want him to be on top of you, touching you the way you like it, fingering you, telling you to be a good girl for him, and making you come over and over again. Then when you think it’s over you want him to push himself inside you, making your abused pussy clench with need. You can imagine how tired you would feel yet how wonderful it would be to finally have him inside you. He would start slowly, making you ask for it. You would either beg him to give you a break because you can’t come one more time or beg him to go harder, faster so you can just lose yourself. The thought of him consumes you while you are coming. It’s such a sweet orgasm, not all-consuming. It feels like you are floating in the air. So good. Exactly what you needed. What you don’t expect is how long it lasts. 

You don’t remember the last time you felt like this. Self-pleasuring is something you do often, but it never felt this good. Normally you would be done by now: already reached the top and breathing heavily while enjoying your after-glow, but this time it’s like your body wants even more. You can’t stop touching yourself. It just doesn’t stop feeling good, no overstimulation. At least not yet.

So if your body wants more, you are going to give it more. You will continue until you feel absolutely satisfied. That’s why you keep touching yourself, testing what feels the best and using your wetness. You haven’t used an ounce of lube since you started and yet your fingers are unbelievably sticky. You can’t help yourself but raise on your elbows and look at your pussy. You move your fingers apart and the wetness creates a bridge between them.

“Oh my god…”

He just gave you the most charming smile on the face of the earth. Nothing more. Why are you so freaking wet?

You can actually think of a couple of reasons. One of them is not having sex for a while. You don’t remember when was the last time. You can only remember it wasn’t impressive so you came home and took your vibrator out and rode it until you collapsed on the bed, finally feeling satisfied enough to sleep. Since then, you either used your fingers or your vibrator to get off, and your body needed more. A lot more.

The other reason is, your growing crush on Bucky. You knew this would be a problem when you decided to be roommates with him, yet it didn’t stop you. It’s delightful to see his handsome face every day, but it’s also torture. Seeing him getting out of the shower, with only a towel around his waist, or half naked while working out… It’s impossible not to get a crush. And on top of that, he’s super kind. Always considering you. He doesn’t sleep much, you know that, but he never makes any noise at night. Never disturbs you. Never eats your food. He never even brought someone over. At least not yet. You are dreading the day that might happen. It will hurt so badly, and there’ll be nothing you can do about it. Maybe that will help you get over your silly crush. But truth be told, you’d rather have it forever than hear him fucking someone else.

You keep rubbing yourself, over and over again until your head is thrown back. There’s this hunger building inside you. God, you feel like begging even though you are the one touching yourself.

“Please, please, please…” You try to be as quiet as possible. It’s just a whisper.

“I really need it, please…”

You do. You really do. You need to come so hard that you can’t breathe. Maybe then it will be enough. Maybe then you will feel satisfied. Your fingers start working even faster. You can feel your second orgasm, but there’s something on the back of your mind that’s holding you back. The thought of Bucky finding you like this. You don’t want that to happen. So you are holding back a little. You can’t risk it, can you? Otherwise, you won’t be able to look at him. You keep rubbing different spots trying to find the best one for this orgasm. Nothing works until you hear a sound from the living room. Probably Bucky moving around in the apartment. Somehow that sets you off. Your orgasm comes crashing in, taking your breath away while you silently keep touching yourself. You keep going until you can’t anymore. You feel buzzed, breathing heavily. That might be the best orgasm you had lately. You take a deep breath in, and then out. The thought of him catching you was terrifying yet you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. Can you be actually terrified and excited at the same time? If so, that’s exactly how you felt.

You lay there, in the comfort of your bed, and try to collect your mind. A part of you feels guilty because of what you’ve just done. Not the masturbation part, but pleasuring yourself at the thought of Bucky because he has no idea. He probably never even looked at you like that. Still, you can’t help but feel attraction, and it’s not just a physical thing. His personality is making everything worse. If he was just an asshole, everything would be easier, but he had to be the most amazing guy you’ve ever met. So, it’s his fault if you are masturbating to the thought of him, right? He’s just too perfect.

You breathe in and out, trying to deal with the guilt and your racing thoughts. Normally, this would be more than enough. Two back-to-back orgasms and the second one was so fucking intense yet you can still feel the need. It’s right there. Your core is silently begging while your wetness keeps dripping out of you. When you close your eyes and imagine Bucky pushing himself inside you, your muscles contract and your whole body begs for more.

Sighing, you open your bedside drawer. Here it is, your beloved vibrator. You close the drawer and look at it for a couple of seconds, trying to decide if you should really do this. He’s still in the living room, you can still hear the TV. It’s possible you might get caught, yet the hunger inside you takes over any rational thought. 

After a couple of seconds, you finally give in. Slowly, you push the vibrator inside you and your pussy clenches around it. Even without moving or turning it on, it feels amazing. The feeling of being full… You missed it so much. Then you start to move it in and out, slowly. You close your eyes and imagine it’s a real cock inside you, but it’s hard to get lost in that thought. The texture of the vibrator is far from realistic and the size isn’t that impressive. When that doesn’t work out, you turn it on and let yourself feel it. It’s better. Much better but still not enough. 

“God…” You complain silently while changing your position. You flip around and go on all fours, pushing your ass out as much as you can, the way you would do during sex. That finally hits the spot. You grab your pillow with haste and push your face into it, trying to cover any noise you might make.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck.” Your muffled moans can’t reach Bucky. He’s watching the TV after all.

“Yess, right there.” The words leave your lips before you are able to process them. Where are these words coming from? Who are you talking to? Is it a fantasy? You don’t know, but it feels good to let it out.

“Oh please, fuck me.” You try to push all the rational thoughts aside. It’s not the time for that.

“Fuck me, daddy, please.” You close your eyes and imagine Bucky again. Him taking his sweet time, edging you until you beg for release. You would give anything, absolutely anything to do this with him.

“Harder, please, daddy, I need it harder,” you mumble and then turn and press the vibration button again. It starts to pulse faster inside you and you feel like there is no air in your lungs anymore. You choke for a second, raising your head up from the pillow, and take a deep breath while your orgasm rips you apart. It’s nothing like you’ve experienced before. A part of your brain thinks you’re unlocking another level of orgasm while the other part is trying to enjoy this feeling while it lasts.

“Yes, yes, yes. Right there.” You let your head fall back on the pillow as you keep imagining Bucky. You have no idea how long your orgasm actually lasts. It’s definitely the longest one you’ve ever had. When your pussy starts to feel too sensitive you take out the vibrator and turn it off. 

Finally, you are feeling satisfied. You place the vibrator on top of your nightstand while you get on your back again. After taking a couple of deep breaths, you notice the lack of TV noise.

Shit.

Why did he turn the TV off? And more important, when? You look at the clock on the wall in front of you and the news program is not over yet. Did he hear you? 

God, please... Don’t let that happen.

You quickly stand up, putting your clothes back on quickly, and then you open the door as carefully as possible. The living room is empty. All you can hear is the shower running.

Thank god!

Bucky is taking a shower. So even with no TV on, he couldn’t have possibly heard you. The sound of the water would cover your moans, right? You hope so at least.

You go back to your room, clueless about the fact that Bucky heard everything, how he paid attention to every single detail, trying to memorize how you sound while coming. How you moan, how you rub yourself, and how needy you are.

Feeling like a creep, he jumped in the shower. Clearly, you were imagining someone else, and he had no right to listen to something as private as this. Yet he couldn’t stop himself. He couldn’t stop imaging how it would be the one that you call daddy. And he definitely couldn't stop his left hand from wrapping around his cock.

[daisynik7]

Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie 

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky.  “Told you, didn’t I?” 

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center. 

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching. 

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall. 

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral. 

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.” 

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror. 

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming. 

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit. 

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting. 

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog. 

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it. 

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued. 

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching. 

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you. 

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation. 

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs. 

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.  

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?” 

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you. 

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state. 

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?” 

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you. 

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb. 

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer. 

[bitchlessdino]

nobody's home (m)

Pairing: neighbor male nanny!seungcheol x afab maid!reader Genre:  smut, fluff towards the end Word count: 3.8k tags: working class au, mentions kids, big dick!Seungcheol, reader wears skirt and thong and panty hose, dom!seungcheol, brat!reader, rough sex, rough hair pulling and head movement, spitting and swallowing, heavy degradation kink, window sex, overstimulation, name calling (brat, slut, mr. choi), choking unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pies Summary: Seungcheol and you have never crossed paths for long, but boy have you imagined it. Too preoccupied with your jobs working for some of the richest families in the city, you've sacrificed your grueling hours when you could've been fucked your brains out all this time. However, big risks come with big rewards when the holidays arrive. Then there's nobody home to stop you. author note: horny, horny, horny, that was the entire process writing all of this. i feel like i pulled this out one of my deepest most darkest horny moments bc why am i so into writing every part of this and thats so rare?? i enjoyed this alot, please enjoy guys and happy new year! its almost 2024 thats insane!!!!

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @goblinvern @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @6969lilithcat @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @cottoncheol @embrace-themagic

You haven’t worked for this family all that long. Only long enough to realize the cute male nanny living in the house next door.

You've caught glimpses of him a handful of times on the lawn, overseeing the kids as they bask in the fresh air. His eyes sparkle like stars that lit the night sky and his smile outshines the opulence of this entire block of one-percenters. Witnessing that radiant smile aimed in your direction brightens your day each time. Without fail, you exchange polite greetings, accompanied by smiles and pleasant small talk, forming a delightful routine in your interactions.

As the housekeeper, you’ve had plenty of encounters while getting groceries, lawn or backyard parties, and windows. Lots of windows. You’d peer through when you’re cleaning, see him glance back at you, maybe sending you a wave as he’s mid-feeding the kid veggie tots. Your interactions with him were typically very brief and fleeting.

Now, there were no excuses. The holiday season is around the corner, and families in the neighborhood will soon be heading to the Alps, tropical destinations, or somewhere along those lines. That meant you’d be all alone in their mansion, much like someone else in the neighborhood.

You learn about it by seeing him at the grocery store. Trying not to get distracted by the loose-fitting dress shirt tucked in the waist of his trousers, you notice the little one he cares for rolls through the aisles full of toddler swagger in the shopping cart. You would gush at their delightful giggles if you didn’t find their caretaker so mind-numbingly distracting. 

With his broad shoulders, sturdy arms, and consistently solid build, you too would trust him with something so delicate and needy of attention. It was such a natural choice. However, the nearest option you had was, well, yourself.

He mentions that his employers preferred to keep their vacation exclusive to family, providing him with paid time off to use as he pleased. In turn, you mention being offered the same form of compensation, and am eternally grateful for such leniency. His expression sparks in piqued interest, briefly glancing at you before storing the hot chocolate package away in the cart. 

“Does that mean you’ll be away for the holidays?”

You muse at his question, fingers taking over your basket handle as he ponders on your response. A glimmer of optimism in his eyes beams in your direction, with a dimple etched deep in his cheek as he splays a hopeful smile. To which you answer jesterly, "Well, I hadn't implied that."

He softly chuckles, nudging you at the elbow, obviously trying to banger a proper answer. “Then tell me, what’s a pretty thing like you doing in a big house all alone during the holidays?”

His compliments delight you and warmth festers in your chest, greedy for more. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?"

Seungcheol doesn’t have a moment to react as the child in the cart regains their energy. He shifts his gaze away momentarily and soon you escape his line of vision, seamlessly blending in amidst the bustling crowd of grocers. 

Returning to the residence, you linger by the largest window, offering a perfect view of Seungcheol dining during supper. It's a familiar scene, replaying like clockwork at the same hours each time. His silhouette in the warm glow of the neighbor's dining room becomes a sight with more to be desired, and you imagine a world where the divide doesn't exist. Staring in his eyes, you picture your entanglement. The heat of your bodies weaving together like threads in a tapestry, each bonded tightly, with only the power of shears to tear you apart.

His eyes reflect the same intensity, mentally undressing you down to the skin, making you his perfect canvas. He ponders the texture of your skin, your hair, and the sound you make when he tenderizes your flesh with his teeth. He wonders how full you feel between his fingers, or how sweet your nectar tastes. He can only envision the favor, the sensation, the warmth; holding the fantasy close to him like a secret taken to the grave.

That day would come soon enough.

Anticipating each passing hour of every day, you are elated by the promise of bidding farewell to your employers at the airport. You assure them of returning to a pristine home, meticulously cleaned from every nook and cranny. A grin, so expansive it borders on pain, graces your face, and there's a noticeable spring in your step as they fade into the depths behind the security checkpoints.

Without a moment's hesitation, you rush home, eager to connect with a kindred spirit just a few cobblestones away from your work residence. Judging by the expression in his eyes, it's clear he has fulfilled his responsibilities and bid farewell to his employers as well, eagerly awaiting your arrival. He grins at you, pleased to see you approach him.

“I see it that they made it to their flight safe?”

You hum in confirmation. “You would be seeing correctly. How did your family make it?”

"Quite smoothly," he answers nonchalantly, the dimple on his cheek sinking into a subtle but contented expression.

A palpable wave of relief releases from the depths of your lungs, and a chuckle escapes as you observe Seungcheol displaying a similar reaction. Even in the subzero temperatures, you sensed the fire of his gaze, unraveling your logical resolve and liquefying you into a puddle of your own arousal. In the depth of your gaze, he discerns your hopeful anticipation, one that matches his. “So, what are the plans for the rest of their absence?”

The corner of your lips can’t help the way lifts, smiling slyly back at him. “I’m sure you have some ideas.”

You thank the heavens every day they never reinstalled those security cameras. Utilize their vulnerability, you invite the neighbor’s nanny into their home, and the automatic door locks behind him. No use in holding back, he claims the lips swiftly, tasting need and rebellion on your tongue in a rough liplock.

His lips full and plush, they part to speak, but not with words. His tongue aligns with yours, only to tangle in incoherent mumbles that escape in between, yet communicate with you in perfect fluency. Much like the intimate gazes you share from the windows multiple times a day, the fervent kiss unfolding spoke more than the audible language ever could.

His hands work around your body, shoving off your coat and cardigan, abandoning them on the hardwood to slip his fingers beneath your shirt. A shallow breath leaves your lips and you rush him against you, planting yourselves against their pristinely white wall. The texture of the plaster digs into your backside, abrasive against your flesh and Seungcheol locks you in place by holding your thigh against his side.

“You don’t know how fucking bad I wanted to do this to you,” he growls into your kiss.

You let out a sultry chuckle, fiddling with his earlobe between the pads of your fingers. “You can say it out loud. Nobody’s home.”

He scoffs. “I said, I wanted to—“ he slams his hips against you, his cock bursting at the seams against your torso, “—fuck the living shit—“ he does so again, digging your sobbing clothed cunt with his solid thigh, “—out of this stupid, pretty cunt. That loud enough for you?”

You moan through your firm pressed lips, grinding against his steel hard thighs. “Just the perfect amount.”

In admiration, your hands roam over his body, and shamelessly rips off his dress shirt, hearing the buttons skip against the cool tile. He grunts at the sensation of the frigid air enveloping his broad stature as it pebbles goosebumps on his upper arms. Returning your savage gesture, his hand fingers through your hair and dragging it back to pin your head on the wall behind you, fisting handfuls of your locks. “That wasn’t very nice of you. Could’ve asked for permission at least first,” he snarls, baring his front teeth.

“Can’t help it,” you grin, “you just look so good without it on. I bet you look without anything on.”

His chest presses flat against your body without even space to breathe and his unyielding gaze bore into you. He aligns his conceited grin against your lips to smash it brusquely—as if thanking you—pulling at your bottom lip between his perfect teeth. “I’m sure it’s all you think about when you see me.”

Quickly, he maneuvers you; twisting your heel and guiding with a hand on your waist, he forces you against the unyielding surface of the wall and trails that same hand over your chilled spine. 

You softly gasp at his touch, feeling the flood of your clenched walls seep through your underwear and layering your inner thighs. His chilling, velvet voice beckons, coating the inside of your ears. “But I’ve dealt with brats, you know that. Let me show exactly what happens when you test the limits of my discipline.”

Seungcheol lifts the flap of your skirt, barring the shape of your cheeks protected under a layer of pantyhose and caressing its plush cushion. Then came the flat palm of his hand coming against you at full force. You jolt upon contact, clinging to the foundation of this house to recover, yet mewl at the arousal erupting inside you. A sound emerges from the depths of your throat, vaguely sounding of his name as well as plead.

“You like that, don’t you? A naughty little brat you are,” he chuckles sinisterly.

You push your back against his hips, finding the mold of his cock readily and fitting between the rounds of your ass. His soft groan follows, his erection rubbing against the pantyhose. “God, you really like that.”

“I want it,” you whine impatiently, backing your hips on him, and crushing his length, “give it to me.”

“What kind of authority figure would I be if I gave into one of my brat’s demands?” He strikes your cheek again, stinging lingering dully as your flesh had barely recovered from the last hit, and drool leaking out of the corner of your lips. “Not a very good one,” he answers.

“Please, Seungcheol...”

He does do again, if not harder, and each strike collides with both cheeks. “You’ll be referring to me as Mr. Choi now, brat.”

You never knew his surname, but upon discovery, you notice how smooth it rolls off the tongue. How delicious it sounds out of your swollen lips.

“Mr. Choi…” You breathe out, your cunt vibrating at the notion of his power.

He hums pleased, rewarding the back of your neck with a gentle peck. “Good job. What is it you want?”

“Please, Me Choi, I want your cock inside me…”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you, now?” He chides, “Are you going to behave from now on?” 

You nod gingerly. “Yes, just give it to me, please…all of it…”

“Mmh, since you’re being so polite. I guess positive reinforcement is in order.” Seungcheol’s hand caresses your hips, reaching for the curves of your ass in confident determination. The soft caress of his rich voice proceeds, “Let’s just get these out of the way.” 

He ruthlessly tears the sheer material of your pantyhose, exposing your skin and the red lacy thong that hardly holds you up. You erupt in a startled gasp, welcoming the cool embrace of the air ventilation on your blistered skin. His voice drops to a lower octave and his groaning dissolves, melding into a soft sigh. “What a pretty little holiday gift for me. Only took me a moment to realize I have to unwrap it.”

“I thought of you when I decided the color,” you admit in feigned innocence, “you seem to like the holiday colors.”

“I do. Darling of you for noticing,” he praises with a hint of tease, “and my, does it suit you. Maybe there is hope for a brat like you.”

You hear the draw of his zipper, following the heavy drop of fabric to the ground. Slightly turning your head, you see he kicks the clothes aside and grins upon inspection of his full-length lining up between your legs. Your knees began to wobble, parting your feet for a more stable stance, and you swoon with your head against the wall. “You look so big…”

The head of his cock rubs against the lace, precum leaking from the tip and creating a small mess on your already ruined panties. You hear a smile in his scoff and feel the snap of your underwear before his tip breaches your molten warmth. He whispers, “Wait until you feel how big it is pushing in and out of that pretty wet cunt of yours…”

“Mmh, Mr. Choi…” Your breath halts as his girth parts your entrance, stretching your walls until it is Seungcheol and your lubricating arousal. He seethes in relief, letting your welcoming embrace around him soothe his intensifying erection and he bucks his hips, having you adjust to his size.

You rest your forehead on the wall, feeling him bury himself inside you. “Shit…yes, Mr Choi…”

“Such bratty pussy.” He spanks both cheeks once more, watching the recoil of your flesh. “My perfect bratty little pussy…bet you’re so used to misbehaving. It won’t be like that around me.”

He took one deep, languid thrust, automatically groaning, “Fuck,” then released his hips.

You immerse in his plunder of your voice, letting it ache in need as you repeat his name. Meanwhile, your internal temperature rises with the collision of his lap and your ass growing harsh and unforgiving. Pinning your wrist together single-handedly, he lets his other grip reclaim your hair, dragging your body to him for his own use. “You feel so fucking good around me.”

He tenses his torso to take sharper strikes, pulsing deeper and quicker. Your hand slides on the solid surface in front of you, pushing yourself against him as you take every inch. Your jaw drops low, echoing a hollow whine, devoid of incoherent thoughts and instinctive response.

Seungcheol lets go of your wrists and instead sandwiches them between your back and his chest. He finds the front panels of your shirt and tears it apart similarly you did with his, echoing that familiar sound of buttons being abandoned on the ground. 

“Because you deserve the same thing to happen to you,” he softly mutters, only to cup your cladded breast hungrily, squeezing your flesh to the point it spills out of the material as his teeth kiss your neck, “and because I couldn’t stop looking at these when you’re walking around that see-through blouse by that window we share.”

Thinking about the fact that you share something made his intention all the more intimate, and you cling to his body like saran wrap due to the simple fact. You melt as he marks your body with bites, the stinging resonating on your goosebumped skin. “I wear that because of you,” you manage to squeak, “only because you wear that t-shirt that clings to your body during the summer. How it got damp from sweat fixing that broken bookcase. God, is it satisfying to rip your shirt off.”

“That window was always the culprit, hmm?”

He pries you from where you stand and drags you to the referred structure with you giggling after him. There he bends you over the dining table placed strategically in front of it, while your ass points towards the glass screen. His spanks come flying, tenderizing the already raw and blistered skin, “This damn window you always linger by.” 

His nails dig into your kneaded flesh and he fits his cock right where it belongs, plunging back inside you as he secures your head against the table. “The way I wanted to fuck you on this exact table, spank this cute fucking ass,” he roughly tugs your head up, watching your tits bounce as he ruts in you like a damn dog, and meets your warm wide-eyed gaze, “Spit in that slutty, brat mouth.”

Your lips part without delay, death gripping the edge of the mahogany, and your tongue slings out enthusiastically. He breaks out in an amused grin before it melts back into a smolder, gripping you closer until he hocks a hot load of salvia in your mouth, forcibly closing your jaw with his hands.

“Hold it,” he commands, seeing the subtle frown on your face as you obey. He smiles sinisterly, hands on your hips as he slams you towards him, watching your head bob at the harsh rhythm. He places his palm over the column of your throat, teeth clawing your cheek. “Now swallow, you slut.”

He feels the shift in your throat as it goes down, relishing that light gasp of breath leaving your lips, “Good slut. You’re finally learning.”

His power, his strength, his cadence were inexplicably captivating and you succumb to his every whim. It only intensifies as you drink in his delectable lips, so soft in contrast to the abrasive snap of his hips, hitting in a spot so sensitive you don’t even predict it coming.

Your moan resonates through the entire first floor, palming the dinner table as you ride out your high in teary anguish as Seungcheol’s pace doesn’t seem to falter, in fact, it seems to have grown angrier. Furious. 

“You fucking slut,” he spits, rubbing your overstimulated clit in the thick of your climax, squeezing the tears out of your eyes. You clutch his forearm in desperation, writhing uncontrollably. “S-Seungcheol—“

“Misbehaving again, I see.” He pulls out of you to flip you on your back. He watches at your hot cheeks expel heavy pants, sweat filming your entire torso, and eyes rolling to the back of your head. “You’re still conscious; you haven’t had enough just yet.”

Dragging by the arm, he takes you against the tempered glass, chilling your bare spine. He lifts your legs off the ground and holds them on either his side, stuffing himself back into you. Your heat drips around his cock, and he catches it in his thrusts, pressuring you to feel every inch of his cock rammed inside. 

Your ass and the pads of your fingers press against the glass, smudging its once-pristine sheen. “Mr.Choi…”

He strokes your cheek, fondness in his eyes before it lowers to your throat and closes around it. Then his eyes penetrate through you, eying you in a dark allure as he robs you of breath, and catching the daze in your eyes as he ponders in thought. 

“What are you thinking dirtying up the thing you took so long cleaning with your fingerprints and cum, hmm? Marking your claim on the house you've spent all day and night on looking perfect? A house far from being yours? How does it make you feel?”

“…Exhilarating,” you sigh shallowly, staring back at him with a smile. Your arms loop around his neck, finding security and embracing his vigorous nature. “Like it’s all worth the painstaking labor to make a complete mess of it.”

He groans at your answer, reconnecting your lips in what feels like an eternity, and cradles the side of your face endearingly with one hand still around your neck. His lips devour yours, swallowing your moans, jerking his hips, and savoring the velvet of your walls clench around him so deliciously. 

“You were just as worth the wait. Made my job so damn hard thinking your pussy wrapped around my cock, made me fucking blank out most of my day. Not a good move for me, but–really–I blame you,” he slams you against the window before quickly returning to his rhythm pace. 

“You and your perfect body—” He grinds up into you, relocating your sensitivity and you whimper, “—Your sexy fucking voice when you greet me,” and he finally, makes notice of your face, using that hand that crushed around throat now gripping your chin, “—or this beautiful face that I couldn’t wait to see contort when I push my fucking cum inside.”

Usually, you know better than to let that kind of thing happen, but after the long duration of having only distant contact, his offer becomes tempting—alluring even—that you knew someone had to physically pry you off of him until you were filled with his seed. “Well, you’re so good with kids, wanna make some of your own?”

Seungcheol beckons closer, grinning mischievously, “Should I? You want me to put my babies in you? Fill you up with cum?”

You mewl at the thought, bringing his warmth closer, “I’d be so full…taking your fat cock and all your hot cum inside me…it’d be a dream, especially knowing how good you’re taking care of us, especially me.”

“You’d want that, hmm,” driving himself into you until you're lost in your own world again—losing the grasp on reality—and he persists. “You want my cum making a mess of you and this house just so I could put some babies in this pretty cunt? Hmm? That what you want?”

You nod mindlessly, anchoring yourself to him until he finally lets up. When he does, you feel the power surges through you as if you’re fresh new battery, the electrical current being the cum he shoots up into you. You let yourself ride this high, rocking into his hips, and soon your weight takes over, deducing you to a puddle. He takes his final pumps, cooing softly at your lips as you share a kiss, then drops you back on the dining table, letting you catch your breath as the cum spills slowly out of you and stains the floor under your feet.

He stands between your legs, tracing over the texture of your thighs, and his other hand claims your waist, meeting your face with a tired but tender smile. “Hi.”

You softly chuckle, resting a palm on the back of his neck. “Hi,” you repeat back.

“So dinner?” 

You playfully roll your eyes, bordering his hips with your legs. “Are you offering to cook?”

“My job requires me to, so yes,” he traces over your jaw, drawing in closer, “Wouldn’t want to feed my clients burnt Mac and cheese with their frozen Dino nuggies.”

“True,” your arms lock at the elbows around his neck, “But what else can you make besides Mac and cheese with Dino nuggies?”

“That is the question, isn’t it?” He answers vaguely.

You finger through his hair and notice how his perspiration has left him mouthwateringly disheveled, quietly contemplating how to stretch out this vacation time. Your solution: never leave each other’s side. 

“I’ll tell you what. We can think about what to eat…after a shower. “

You retrieve his hand, tugging him in your desired direction and he follows graciously with a knowing grin. “We can do that, but we both know that shower will end up more dirty than clean.”

“Good thing I’m an expert in keeping a clean home, now it’s your turn to clean my home.”

His dimple graced his cheek, visibly interested. “My pleasure.”

[lovelyhan]

— again and again ⟢

pairing: mingyu x reader

summary: your mother calls one day, asking if you’re bringing mingyu along for chuseok this year. in your panic, you end up giving her an affirmative—never mind the fact that you and mingyu have stopped seeing each other over half a year ago.

word count: 15.7k words

tags: exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut

warnings: medical jargon, mentions of shots (for pets), mentions of snake bites, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: i wrote this with bss' 7pm on loop for two straight days. nothing like the sweet taste of yearning <3 this also wasn't extensively proofread, so if you spot a few mistakes, i implore you to ignore them EJWHJHSDF

this is part of the doting on you! series.

smut tags: vanilla, mingyu is super whipped, praise kink, service top gyu, dirty talk, nicknames (babygirl, sweetheart, sweet thing), overstimulation, multiple rounds, unprotected sex, creampie, heads up that the filth is at the very end tho

taglist: @cherrycheolie1995 - @ashkuuuu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @christinewithluv - @fancypoisonapple - @odetoyeonjun - @minnie-mouser22 - @etherealyoungk - @davoraciousreader - @mariondior - @hella-sirius - @coveyland - @marlow234 - @dobomiyeon - @belysusonrisa - @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @seoksoop - @dreamhannies - @renjunphile - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @acgyu - @gae-uls - @pluviophile-xxx - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @yutadae - @smileyjimvn

additional notes: you might want to check your visibility settings if you can't be tagged!

When you hear the telltale ring as the call connects to its intended recipient, you wonder why you even considered this idea in the first place. Not to mention, you’re getting a nasty case of phone call anxiety—one that you haven’t felt in god knows how long. Maybe it’s because of the identity of the person you’re calling that your nerves are all over the place. 

In fact, you’re not sure if he’s even going to answer. There are a million and a half reasons why famous superstar Kim Mingyu won’t be able to pick up your call. He could be shooting for a music video or some fashion magazine. He could be in the middle of an interview. Or he could be out spending time with his members like tends to these days if his recent Instagram posts are anything to go by. 

But you try anyway because your mother sounded so hopeful in the phone call you just hung up on five minutes ago (The rice wine he got for us last Christmas was splendid! He’ll bring some again for Chuseok, won’t he?), that you just didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth.

So, because you can’t take back the pretty white lies you uttered (Uh, of course he will. Gyu told me he missed everyone back at home, too. Especially Namja), you’re attempting to rope Mingyu into the charade even if the odds are against you.

The first call doesn’t go through. Neither does the second. 

By your third try, you’re about to accept the fact that you’re going to have to make some due corrections to what you told your mother until you hear a groggy, “Hello?” on the other line. 

You nearly fall off your seat at the throaty sound of Mingyu’s voice, but you’d rather not get weird looks from your receptionist, so you breathe in as deeply (and quietly) as you can before mustering a smile that he won’t even be able to see.

“Hey, Mingyu, it’s me,” you begin, a bit proud of how your voice didn’t even falter. “It’s been a while. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

He doesn’t respond for a while, and the prolonged silence makes you bite the inside of your cheek. Did the call fall through? Did he not hear what you said? But just when you’re about to repeat the words—

“Kind of,” Mingyu grumbles, and you try not to think about how sexy his morning voice sounds despite it being two in the afternoon. “We finished taping a variety show today and I figured I’d get some sleep. It’s midnight right now.”

Well that’s news to you.

“Oh. You’re not in Korea?”

“Nah. We’re in New York for some brand collaborations,” he says, and you hear some rustling in the background, followed by a yawn. “Though I doubt you’ve been keeping tabs on us.” 

Okay, he doesn’t have to call you out like that.

Sure, you still catch posts from Mingyu, as well as the other twelve members of SEVENTEEN from time to time, but…after breaking up with him (on good terms, promise!), you thought it’s best if you didn’t see too much of them anymore. The block and mute buttons are your best friends, and while you didn’t use them on the members directly, gossip outlets were your regular targets.

So to speak, it’s been a peaceful six months since your break up with Mingyu. 

Until now.

“Do you need something?” he asks, and you realize you didn’t respond to what he said last. “Whatever it is, I might not be able to help you out right away. We’re holed up here until next month.”

Well…that’s all the confirmation you needed.

“I see,” you sigh, trying not to sound too disappointed. “It’s— It’s okay.”

“So you do need something,” Mingyu points out, voice much clearer now than it was two minutes ago. Like he was more awake. “What is it?”

“Nothing you should worry about, Gyu,” you reassure before making a face, not realizing how easily the old nickname just slipped out. “I’m sorry for waking you up. You should go back to—”

The sound of him whining at the other end sends another rush of vertigo through your entire being. “Come on, I’m awake anyways right? You know how hard it is for me to fall asleep again.”

“If I’d known we weren’t in the same continent, I wouldn’t have called altogether,” you say before quaintly adding, “Shit. This counts as an international call, doesn’t it?”

There’s someone else in the room with him, you think—a quiet drawl of Mingyu-hyung, what time is it? You immediately recognize it as Seungkwan. 

“Five minutes past midnight,” Mingyu says, and Seungkwan asks another question that you aren’t able to catch. “Who am I talking to? Bookkeu and Bobpul’s worst enemy.”

“Hey!” You scowl at him. “They never even whined when you and Seungkwan brought them to me for their shots!”

“Noona? Why are you calling this guy?” Seungkwan says a bit more loudly for you to hear. “Didn’t you dump him already? Good choice, by the way.” 

This time it’s Mingyu’s turn to utter out a semi-offended, “Hey! Mind your own business, Seungkwan-ah.”

A few minutes of bickering with his dongsaeng later, you figure that Mingyu must’ve gone outside of their hotel room for some privacy. You can vaguely hear the sound of the wind blowing on his end before he heaves a deep sigh.

“Sorry about that.” He coughs awkwardly. “Anyway, if you’re not going to tell me about what you needed help with, how are you? Is the clinic doing well? Did your receptionist finally ditch her shitty boyfriend? Does that one guy with a husky still hit on you?”

You’re a little overwhelmed by the sudden influx of questions. Last you checked, you haven’t spoken to Mingyu since you greeted him on his birthday over a quick text message. But then again, your ex does have a talent for completely ignoring the time that exists in between interactions. Mingyu’s always been amicable for conversation, idol or not, boyfriend or not. 

The mere thought that he hasn’t changed at all makes your heart ache in more ways than one.

You manage a quiet laugh. “I’m fine. The clinic’s fine. Chae has a new boyfriend now. He even helps us sort out new products on the shelves sometimes.”

At the mention of her name, your receptionist whips her head in your direction, one brow raised. You shake your head with a smile, gesturing that this is nothing she should even be remotely concerned about. 

It’s just Mingyu after all.

“Okay, how about the guy who—”

“I turned him down when he asked me out for lunch last week.”

He whistles. “Ouch. And he’s been trying to get with you all this time.”

“I don’t usually date my clients, you know.”

“Yeah? I must be special then.”

Then comes the silence—so thick, you can cut through it with a knife. 

“Uh, so I have a patient coming in an hour for a castration procedure,” you tell him a bit awkwardly. “Gotta prepare everything before the owner arrives.”

Mingyu sighs, and you can almost imagine him pouting. “You’re really not gonna tell me? I can still help you with whatever you need even when I’m out here. Unless it requires me to, you know, physically be there.”

You chuckle. “That’s the thing, Gyu. You can’t help me because I need you to actually be here.”

“Oh. Why? What for?”

You inhale sharp breath through your nose, closing your eyes as your face warms with embarrassment. Chae is definitely looking at you funnily from her station now, but you tell yourself not to give it too much thought.

“Mom asked if I was bringing you with me for Chuseok,” you admit. “I haven’t been home since Christmas, so… They kind of have no idea that we aren’t together anymore.”

Mingyu falls silent for a while yet again, and you realize that your anxiousness spikes whenever he isn’t talking like there’s no tomorrow. You wonder if he’s figured out what you’re trying to insinuate and is silently berating you for the lapse in judgment. But when Mingyu bursts out laughing on the other end, you suddenly don't mind being on the receiving end of his silence after all.

“No way,” he gasps between chuckles. “You were going to ask me to pretend to be your boyfriend over the holidays, weren’t you?! One of the fans wrote a story about the exact same thing once, except it’s between me and Wonwoo-hyung. It was in English though, but Vernon translated it pretty well.”

…Kim Mingyu admitting to reading fanfiction about himself and Wonwoo aside, you groan. “What am I supposed to do? My family loves you. I’d rather not dampen the Chuseok spirit by saying their favorite son has unfortunately made his unannounced exit half a year ago.”

“So you’re willing to pretend we’re still together just to keep them happy?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not like you’re an ex I should be ashamed of, Gyu.”

“Because I’m an idol that millions are vying for?” 

You roll your eyes. “No. It’s because out of all my exes, you’re the only one that Namja actually likes. That’s pretty much the highest honor you can receive in your entire life.”

Your heart does a little flip when Mingyu barks out another light-hearted laugh. You tell yourself that you’re only reacting that way because…it has been a while since you talked to him. That, and Mingyu was always so smiley whenever you brought up your ten year-old retriever.

“Point taken,” he says. “I’d totally be down to help you out, but…yeah.”

“I knew you would be,” you reply, a sad smile ghosting your features. “That’s why I called.”

Silence settles over the line once again, but it’s, by no means, awkward. It’s more…sentimental. Like two old friends reminiscing about the good memories you shared. 

Huh. You’re friends with Mingyu…

“Anyway, thanks for catching up with me, Mingyu,” you tell him before you end up saying something you’re not supposed to. “I’ll get going now. Good night.”

“Hey—”

You end the call before he can have the chance to make you falter.

Right behind her desk, Chae looks up at you with a knowing look. You flash her a smile that silently pleads for her not to say a word, but your receptionist has always been on the frank side.

“Something’s telling me you’re still hung up on him, boss.”

Sighing, you push yourself back to your feet, tugging on the lapels of your crisp white coat. That might be true to some degree, but it’s not like you can do anything about it.

You and Mingyu live in two completely different worlds. It’s something that you both came to terms with when you broke up. You just had to accept the fact that there’s simply no efficient way to work around his busy schedules and the appointments you need to attend to at the clinic. 

It was the most unproblematic breakup you’ve ever had, and it’s with a famous idol. Who would’ve thought. 

“Anyway,” you tell Chae before nudging the door to the operating room open. “Care to help me look for the anesthetics? I can’t remember where I put them away last time…”

Your receptionist is most definitely judging you inside your head, but despite how straightforward she can be, Chae still knows when to drop it. After a few clicks on the clinic’s desktop computer, she joins you on the hunt for that pesky bottle of anesthesia without asking any intrusive questions.

You make a mental note to treat her to some coffee tomorrow.

…

One of the reasons you seldomly paid your hometown a visit is the hassle that comes with the entire commute.

First you have to endure the long queue to get tickets before sitting through an eight-hour train ride to the seaside town of Haenam. Then comes navigating the local bus routes and schedules that always seem to change every time you go home. 

When you made it out of the train station for this year’s Chuseok celebration, you didn’t even bother stressing yourself out with taking the bus back to your parents’ house—flagging down a taxi that definitely charged you a ridiculous rate in exchange for your utmost comfort instead. 

You try not to think about how easier it was last Christmas, when you and Mingyu took turns driving one of his company’s cars on the way here—laughing and singing along to their songs on the road like nothing else mattered.

The scent of salt hangs heavy in the breeze when you unload your baggage from the trunk of the taxi. You had the foresight to make the trip before midnight, so you’re rewarded with the sight of the sunrise breaking through the nearby ocean—light glittering across the horizon like it means to say welcome home. 

That’s what you should feel; like you’re at home. But the fact that you’re about to bring some disappointing news to the table regarding your breakup with Mingyu isn’t doing your peace of mind any favors. 

You contemplated coming clean about it to your parents over a phone call, but it seemed too…impersonal with how attached they’ve gotten to your ex-boyfriend. Having a significant other that your family absolutely adores seems like a double-edged sword now that you think about it.

Once the cab hits the road again, you stand in front of your family home with a wistful sigh. It’s barely past seven in the morning, but your father must already be at the pier—sorting out today’s catch with the other fishermen in town.

Your mother loves taking walks in the market even if she doesn’t have anything in particular to purchase for the day. They’re early risers by default. 

You can’t really say the same for your younger brother, Haneul, though. That one likes to sleep until noon. 

When you ring the doorbell outside, you expect to hear the sound of excited barking from the other side of the gate. Namja was always the first to welcome you back whenever you’re in town, and just thinking about reuniting with him quells your anxiousness a little. But surprisingly, you don’t hear the telltale noise of your family dog’s excitement. 

What you do hear is the sound of the screen door opening and slamming back shut—slippers being hastily slid on before the gate creaks open, revealing Haneul still sporting a bedhead as he rubs his eyes.

“You’re back,” he says a-matter-of-factly, like he isn’t even thrilled to see you, but you’re too surprised to see him up so early to quip about it. “Mom said you wouldn’t arrive until noon.”

“I wanted to make the most of my vacation leave,” you explain before looking around the garden inside. “Where’s Namja? Did Mom take him for a walk, too?”

Haneul hums before taking your luggage. “Hm. You can say that.”

“What does that even mean?”

As if on cue, your ears perk up at the sound of a familiar bark resounding from the end of the road. You quickly whip your head around to see your beloved golden retriever, Namja, wagging his tail excitedly at the sight of you before letting out another woof when you call out his name in glee.

However, the moment you realize who’s holding his leash, you suddenly feel like you got struck by lightning.

It’s Kim fucking Mingyu.

The sight of your ex-boyfriend just...standing there when he told you he was on the other side of the world sends a million thoughts surging through your head all at once.

You try not to think about how gorgeous he looks in the early morning light. Loose, long sleeved shirt that still emphasizes his muscular build despite. Hair having grown past his chin, curling slightly at the tips. And those stupid fucking canines that peek from his lips every time he grins. 

The bastard is just standing there with zero disguises, as if his existence in this place, at this point in time, doesn't throw a wrench in all of your plans.

What the hell is he even doing here?!

“Oh, sweetie, you’re back!”

The sound of your mother’s voice is, thankfully, enough to snap you out of your impending mental breakdown. You were so taken aback by Mingyu’s presence that you didn’t notice her standing next to him, carrying the bag she usually brings for her early market visits as she flashes you a warm smile. 

You can only stand there in shocked silence as your mother makes her way back to the house with your dog and ex-boyfriend in tow. Haneul was already inside, so you can’t exactly glare at him for not giving you a head’s up. But given that you still have no idea what on earth is going on, you’ll play along. For now.

“Are you surprised?” your mother giggles before patting Mingyu’s shoulder. “Mingyu here said he got off work for a while so he could celebrate with us!”

“Gee, I didn’t know about that,” you say dryly, unsure of what expression you should even wear. “I thought he was going to be in New York until next month.”

She laughs again. “Oh, he told me and your father to keep it a secret that he’s going back to Korea anyways. Seems like the surprise worked, didn’t it, Mingyu-ah?”

The culprit himself agrees with a minute nod before loosening his grip on Namja’s leash. 

Your goldie immediately bounds towards you at the first sign of freedom, bracing his paws on your stomach as he attempts to lick your neck. It’s enough to distract you from the current predicament at hand, making you sigh in defeat as you sink to your knees and receive Namja’s slobbery affection in its entirety. 

As you snuggle up to the family dog, Mingyu says, “What can I say? I missed Haenam a lot. The scenery, the family, Namja, but of course…”

You can only sit there in growing disbelief as Mingyu mirrors your movements. He crouches low enough so that your gazes are leveled before caressing your face with a tenderness that’s both familiar and foreign at the same time. 

“I missed her the most.”

This is all a charade—that’s what you can confirm from the limited clues he’s dropping for you to pick up on. You can try to figure out why he’s suddenly here in your hometown—having arrived earlier than you, from the looks of it—a little later.

What’s important is that Mingyu, ever-so helpful, is actually playing along with the act you not-so-jokingly told him about on the phone.

You should be glad. 

…But why do those words make your heart ache anyways?

“Of course you do,” you sigh before peeling yourself away from his touch, carrying Namja in your arms as if he doesn’t easily weigh thirty kilograms. “Come on. Let’s get back inside and help Mom prepare whatever she’s planning on cooking for lunch.”

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter despite your obvious dismissal of his affection. You remind yourself that he’s racked up a lot of acting gigs throughout his career, so it’s normal for him to be a natural at this. 

But even if you know that this is all an act, you can’t help the way your heart lurches when Mingyu scoops Namja out of your grasp—the mere brush of his skin on yours more electrifying than it should be.

Namja whines in your ex’s arms, pawing at his chest before licking a long stripe across his cheek. Mingyu bursts out laughing as he coos at him, and your chest burns with an indescribable feeling.

A few moments later, your mother starts gushing about how excited she is to have both of you in the kitchen with her again as she leads you back inside the house. But all that rings in your head is a broken mantra of Mingyu saying I missed her the most.

As if repeating the words enough times will make them come true.

...

It’s one thing to know that Mingyu is in Haenam when he’s supposed to be overseas.

It’s another thing to see his usual overnight bag at the foot of your unmade bed, making you realize that he definitely came here much earlier than you anticipated.

Mingyu is currently in the kitchen, helping your mother out with lunch prep while she insists that you get some sleep first. Though the trains that led to the southern provinces were designed to be more comfortable than the ones contained in Seoul, nothing defeats the comfort of your old childhood bed. 

Except when you’re made aware of the fact that your ex-boyfriend probably slept in it after making the trip all the way here. 

The sheets even smell like him. A hint of that expensive fragrance he never seems to get tired of laces your pillows, and warmth rushes to your face when you realize you’re breathing it in a bit too much. 

So what if Mingyu slept here, right? Your parents’ house doesn’t have a guest room, and this was probably the only room available.

Oh, and in your family’s eyes, Mingyu is still your boyfriend. There shouldn’t be anything weird about your boyfriend, who went out of his way to quote-unquote surprise you, sleeping in your room, on your bed, without your knowledge.

And there definitely isn’t an issue with having to sleep next to him on said bed come nightfall.

You totally got this.

An attempt to dissuade all these intrusive thoughts is made as you unload the contents of your luggage into your old cabinet. It works for a while because all the old clothes you still kept tickled some memories from way back in high school, when becoming a vet was nothing but a pipe dream you came up with after Namja became sick on the day of his first birthday. 

In fact, as you look around further, you’re reminded of just how much time has passed since you moved out. The paint on the walls is starting to chip, and the floorboards creakier than you remember. Even the bed that was too spacious for your liking seems to shrink when you imagine Mingyu sprawled all over it with a blanket thrown over his large form. 

But when you recall how you two somehow made the sleeping arrangement work last Christmas, you figure that there isn’t much to worry about.

Aside from the fact that you’re not together anymore. Fuck.

“Hey. Are you awake?”

You jolt at the sound of a soft voice coming from the door. Mingyu’s handsome face peeks from the crack before he opens it all the way, lips pressed together in a hesitant smile.

“Your mom asked if I could fetch your father at the pier in a few,” he says. “Do you want to come with me or do you want to get some sleep first?”

“Do I want to—” you cut yourself off, throwing your hands up in disbelief. “Mingyu, what I want is for you to explain what you’re doing here.”

He cranes his head. “You said you needed help.”

“Yeah, but I was going to be honest about the breakup anyway!” you whisper, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from outside. God knows this house has paper-thin walls. “But then you’re suddenly here, cozying up to my family like we haven’t been ignoring each other for months already.”

“Hey, I’d never ignore you.” Mingyu pouts. “I even picked up when you called me at ass o’clock in the morning, remember? If someone’s ignoring anyone here, it’s you, sweetheart.”

You hate how you bristle at that little pet name. Mingyu doesn’t seem to notice how you react to it, so you steel yourself instead—refusing to give into his unintentional charms. “That’s not the point and you know it, Mingyu. You can’t blame me for reacting this way when you told me that you wouldn’t be able to help me out.”

“But I’m here, right? I thought you’d be a little happier to see me, but I might have been overestimating myself.”

You are. You are happy to see him. 

But having to live with the knowledge that Mingyu is right here, close enough for you to touch, yet can’t because your relationship has long expired? 

You weren’t ready for that. You don’t think you’ll ever be.

“Look,” he starts with a tone that’s meant to placate you, “you were right about not wanting to ruin the holidays with the breakup. I’m just here to help you out since you’re obviously not ready to break the news to your family. It’s not a big deal.”

You scowl at him. “Mingyu, it is a big deal. You are literally an idol with a packed fucking schedule. You can’t just play house with me here when you’re expected to be somewhere else.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “Listen to me first, okay? We were all given the weekend off because of Chuseok on short notice. You don’t have to worry about you unknowingly stealing me away from work because there is no work. Besides, I told you I’d still be here when you need me, right?”

How can he say all that with a straight face? Like he still thinks of you as anything but an old flame that’s long been snuffed out?

The problem with Mingyu is that he’s too earnest for his own good. Always wearing a spectrum of emotions on his sleeve. Always so honest about what he feels about certain things. It’s so fucking difficult to stand your ground against someone who’s nothing but forthcoming about every aspect of his life. 

But it’s not like you could ever resist him to begin with, right?

“Fine,” you grumble. “Give me a few minutes to prep. I don’t want to go out in the docks wearing this many layers anyways.”

You hate how your chest warms when Mingyu’s eyes light up at that. Fight back, maybe?!

He looks like he’s about to say something when an abrupt knock disturbs the quiet atmosphere of your room. From how annoyingly long it lasts, you single out your younger brother as the perpetrator.

“You better not be making your firstborn in there,” Haneul drawls from the other side. 

Mingyu flashes you a mischievous smile before cupping the sides of his hands over his mouth. “We might be making our second born for all you know.”

You won’t survive this weekend. You really won’t.

…

“Remember when we used to eat ice cream by the Han River?” 

You flash Mingyu a perplexed look as you climb out of the car he used to drive all the way to your hometown. It’s a mystery how his manager allows him to go places with their company car with no supervision, but it’s not like Mingyu has done anything in the past to warrant that kind of surveillance anyway.

Besides, if he’s spending the entirety of Chuseok with a bunch of bodyguards lingering around your house, you might actually force him to go back to Seoul altogether.

“Why’d you bring it up?” you ask. “I thought you didn’t like those kinds of dates ‘cause you had to amp up the disguises and everything.”

Mingyu pockets the keys to the car before leaning against the metal railings installed along the pier. Your father is yet to show up at your rendezvous point, so you figure it wouldn’t do anyone harm to entertain Mingyu’s attempt at small talk. 

“Hmm. While I did prefer just cuddling in the dorms and at your place, it always felt a little different whenever we went out together,” he muses, the wind tossing his hair around slightly before turning to look at you. “How about you? Do you have any favorite date of ours in particular?”

You sigh, unsure why he’s even asking you all of this. Yet you indulge him anyway with, “I don’t think it classifies as a ‘date’, but I kinda liked it whenever you hung out with me in the clinic while I tended to some patients. Even if your presence there is an occupational hazard in itself.”

He snickers to himself, and you know damn well he still remembers the flock of fangirls that ran into him in the waiting room when Mingyu paid you a visit out of boredom. Thankfully, they were the respectful kind, and promised not to divulge information about Mingyu’s whereabouts whenever they catch him at your clinic.

“The dogs are always happy to see me,” he chuckles. “The cats, not so much. Oh, but remember when someone brought in their pet snake? I think that one had a crush on me.”

You do, in fact, remember the day Mingyu got bitten by a boa constrictor named Yujin. Her owner is one of your regulars, since other vets in the city don’t have reptiles under their area of expertise. Yujin hasn’t bitten anyone since she first came for a checkup, so you figure that Mingyu must have done something pretty stupid to provoke the aggression. 

“You better be glad constrictor bites aren’t venomous,” you point out with an airy laugh. “Not even a true love’s kiss can cure a venomous snake bite.” 

“It can cure a handful of other things though.”

You turn to glance at Mingyu with a miffed look at his attempt at smooth-talk. He’s always been this way, so it doesn’t particularly faze you. But it still feels surreal to be talking with him right next to the open sea in your hometown as you both wait for your father to arrive.

“I never really got to ask,” you murmur, eyes still trained on a flock of seagulls huddling together near the docks. “How are you? You’re not burning yourself out again, are you?”

You don’t see it, but Mingyu smiles to himself. “It’s in our job description to push ourselves past the limit, you know. But…honestly? It’s been pretty lonely.”

You make a face at that. “Lonely? You’re literally with twelve other guys, like, eighty percent of the time. How does it ever get lonely?”

Mingyu hums before leaning further over the railing. He looks up at the clear blue sky, breathing deeply with his eyes closed, and for a moment, you’re a bit taken aback by how breathtaking he looks under the spill of morning sunlight. 

“You can still get lonely in the middle of all the noise,” he murmurs. “That’s why I was kind of glad I got to go back here for a while. I know I said I meant to help you out, but there might’ve been some selfish reasoning behind the choice, too.”

Your gaze softens at his words. Mingyu is one of the most intensely passionate members of their group, so it’s not hard to believe that he’s also one of those that ends up feeling this way. You remember having a similar conversation with him during a quiet night in your apartment, limbs tangled together under the sheets as he wonders if your lives would be different if he wasn’t an idol.

But of course, it’s your job to remind him that, even if it could become exhausting at times, he once dreamed of being where he is now. 

“They probably miss you already,” you say. “Don’t you guys usually film content for Chuseok?”

“Yeah, but all of that’s prerecorded. They’re all with their families right now, too.” 

“Really? What are you doing here then?” you tease.

Mingyu tilts his head to the side, lips curved into a lopsided smile that reminds you how it felt to catch feelings for him the first time.

“Who ever said you aren’t family?”

Unfair. He’s being so fucking unfair right now.

But you can’t even think about pushing him into the sea because your father has already made his entrance, waving at the two of you despite his hands being full of fishing paraphernalia. 

He sulks about how it took you so long to go back home, and you had to explain that things have been extra hectic at your clinic, especially when you inevitably earned the reputation of being ‘SEVENTEEN Mingyu and Seungkwan’s trusted veterinarian’ despite neither of them having dropped by since the breakup.

You don’t tell them that last part though. The last thing you need is for Mingyu to have something to gloat about.

“It’s a miracle how those nasty paparazzi folks from Dispatch haven’t caught on yet,” your dad says before climbing into the backseat of Mingyu’s company car. “Unless you’re already in cahoots with them? Remember, Kim Mingyu, leave my daughter out of any celebrity gossip! She’s already built a good name for herself.” 

A throaty laugh rumbles in Mingyu’s chest as he pulls out into the street. “You don’t have to worry about that, sir. Protecting her has always been my top priority.”

Your father nods, seemingly pleased with his response. “Damn straight.” 

You don’t express any outward reaction to what Mingyu just told your dad, but you don’t resist when he reaches for your hand over the center console. 

The moment you he squeezes your fingers, you squeeze back. 

…

The rest of the day is packed with preparing lunch and dinner options for your other relatives in town. Having Mingyu on board is an undeniable asset, since the man knows his way around the kitchen even better than you do. It’s a little endearing to think that, even if it’s the first time he’s meeting your aunts and uncles and cousins, his personality makes him fit right in. 

Turns out, one of your cousins’ daughters is a huge fan, and she couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw Kim Mingyu smoking fish in the backyard of your parents’ house. She made him promise to sign one of her photocards before they leave—a request that your ex is all too happy to oblige. 

By dinnertime, most of the guests have already left, and it’s just you, Mingyu, and Haneul sharing the rice wine Mingyu brought for the occasion, with your parents having already retired for the night. You didn’t even tell him that your Mom wanted another taste of it, yet he delivered anyway. 

“How are you guys doing it?” Haneul whines, a bit red in the face since he’s already had a few beers before your cousins all left. “When my ex-girlfriend moved to another city, it only took two weeks for us to break up. Long distance is the bane of everyone’s existence.”

“Everyone but ours,” Mingyu says before clinking his glass with yours. “You just have to communicate with each other constantly. If you’re honest about everything both of you are feeling, then it’ll be easier to work things out together.”

It’s so easy for him to say these kinds of things. As if your relationship didn’t go to ruin because of the long distance that always kept the two of you apart. You feel a bit bad for having Mingyu lie to your brother right in his face, but you tell yourself that you’re already here anyway. 

You’ll just have to fake it until you make it.

“But what if the other party doesn’t want to talk about it?” Haneul sighs, tracing the rim of his own glass with his finger. “I wanted to make it work. I really did. But she… She didn’t even want to try anymore. Lost faith in us so quickly, I could hardly believe she even loved me.”

You know Haneul is just drunkenly rambling about his grievances with his ex. He called you about it a few years ago, long before you even met Mingyu, and you consoled him by saying that his ex-girlfriend never deserved his love in the first place.

But even if you know the circumstances that led to your split with Mingyu are completely different, you can’t help but find similarities between the stories. 

You broke up with Mingyu on the first day of spring. When the snow was just beginning to thaw, and the wind started to bring in a warmer climate. They’d just gone back from tour, and you know you’re not the only one feeling the tightly-wound strings of your relationship beginning to fray at the seams. 

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now, but I don’t think we’re going to work, Gyu,” you murmured, not having the guts to meet his eyes. “I think it’s best if we just focused on our careers.”

You thought he’d throw a fit. Or at least ask you a bunch of questions. Did he do something wrong? Is he not enough? Yet Mingyu simply flashed you a sad smile before nodding right back at you.

“Okay,” he said with a kind of resignation that breaks your heart to hear. “Thank you for being with me all this time.”

In the present, Mingyu shifts beside you on the table—abruptly startling you out of that impromptu trip down memory lane. 

“Then, you’ll just have to take it in stride, Haneul-ah,” he murmurs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Mingyu manages a tight-lipped smile that pains you to look at. “If you really love her, you’ll respect whatever choice she’s come to make in the end. Even if that choice doesn’t involve you anymore. Even if it hurts to see her walk away after everything you’ve built together.”

When Mingyu turns to look at you, you feel like there’s cotton sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“It’s a good thing I never have to experience that with your sister, though. She loves me too much to let me go.”

Haneul huffs from across the table before rising to his feet. “You two are so in love it’s actually disgusting. You know what, let’s just go to sleep.”

Half an hour later, you find yourself standing in the middle of your bedroom as Mingyu gets ready to sleep. He seems to be talking to someone on the phone inside your bathroom, but you purposely decide not to listen in. It was probably his manager or one of the other boys checking in on him.

You don’t wait for him to finish when you climb under the sheets, leaving enough space for him to occupy on the mattress, should he decide to share it with you tonight. There’s also an extra blanket folded on his side of the bed, since Mingyu’s a notorious blanket hogger, and you’d rather not wrestle that six-foot hunk of muscle for warmth. 

Mingyu takes so long on that phone call of his that by the time he finishes, you’re already fast asleep, curled up while facing the wall so you wouldn’t have to face him. He chuckles, lingering just a few seconds longer by the doorframe of the bathroom. How long has it been since he’s last seen your face under the peaceful guise of slumber? 

It’s been too long, and he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to commit the sight into memory.

…

Sometime in the middle of the night, you’re rudely roused by the sudden drop in temperature.

It’s only the beginning of autumn, but you noticed that it’s a lot colder than usual. Even if you already have a cozy blanket draped right on top of you. You sigh, shifting on the bed to get more comfortable before realizing that you’re not exactly alone. 

Much like yourself, Mingyu is blinking out the drowsiness in his eyes as he turns to look at you with a question in his sleepy gaze. You shake your head in a wordless attempt to tell him not to worry. 

“You’ve been tossing and turning for thirty minutes now,” he says, and hearing his throaty voice in person doesn’t even compare to that phone call you shared a week ago. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “It’s cold, and it isn’t even winter yet.”

He looks at you for a while, as if thinking of what to say before he reaches out for you and tugs you into his arms. Even if you’re practically half-asleep, the sudden action kickstarts your brain into motion, and you struggle against his grip all while whispering, “What the hell are you doing?!”

“You told me back then I’m as good as a furnace on cold days,” he mumbles as he tucks you into his chest—making you hyper aware of every ridge of his toned chest through his shirt. “If it bothers you so much, just think of it as a favor from one friend to another. How’s that sound?”

Friend. You know that’s all that Mingyu is to you these days, and all you are to him, but even in this drowsy haze you’re in, the word still feels like an insult. A word meant to scorn the time you’ve spent as lovers. 

Just thinking about Mingyu as a friend leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, so instead of answering him, you cave and burrow yourself into his warmth—something that he seems pleased with, if the satisfied sound that rumbles in his chest is anything to go by. 

He holds you in his arms the same way he did last Christmas, but there’s an unfamiliar sense of possessiveness sinking uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. You know you shouldn’t think of what he’s doing as anything but a favor between friends. You’re perfectly aware that, as the person who officially ended things between the both of you, you have no right to yearn for something you already gave up on.

But when Mingyu tilts your head up so you can meet his sleepy eyes, you don’t even put up a fight when he presses his lips to yours.

It doesn’t seem like he planned on doing anything beyond that. In fact, you don’t think he meant to do it at all. Just a heat-of-the-moment decision that the two of you could just forget about come morning. 

However, the moment he starts to pull away, you force a hand across the back of his head, crushing your lips back together as you hook one of your thighs across his hips. Mingyu groans into the kiss, large hands migrating to your waist as he reciprocates your newfound hunger like you knew he would. His touch leaves trails of fire tingling across your skin, and every time his canines graze your bottom lip, you quietly moan into his mouth.

This is stupid. You’re both being incredibly stupid. The walls are anything but soundproof, and your parents are sleeping just across the hall.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when Mingyu is making your body remember what it feels like to have him all over you like this.

You missed him. His heat. His touch. His kiss. Everything. You missed him so much that it hurts. You missed him so much that when Mingyu’s fingers start to glide along the exposed flesh of your thighs, you detach your lips from his before pushing him away.

You missed Kim Mingyu with the intensity of a dying star collapsing in on itself, of black holes tearing through reality, but this isn’t how you should go about it.

“Let’s…” you whisper, not quite trusting your voice to carry out your message. “Let’s just sleep.”

Mingyu doesn’t argue. He rarely does. But neither do you when he tugs you back in the caging embrace of his warmth. 

For the first time in weeks, you find yourself drifting off into undisturbed slumber.

…

The next morning, you’re set to go back to Seoul, and by some stroke of luck, so is Mingyu. Still, the two of you decide to stick around until lunch time—neither of you breathing a word about what just happened last night.

But while Mingyu starts to load both of your things into the trunk of his car, your mother asks you for a favor at the last minute.

“Can you bring Namja along with you back to the city?” she asks. “He’s been really listless before you and Mingyu arrived. Your father and I were starting to get worried, and figured you might have to do a check up first.”

You raise an eyebrow at her claim, not really noticing anything amiss about your retriever’s health, aside from the usual signs of age. He’s ten years old, turning eleven this year, so it isn’t such a mystery to see that Namja isn’t as hyperactive as he was as a puppy. But then again, your mother has spot-on intuition about all the strangest things, so you indulge her request in the end. 

Besides, having a pet of your own to keep you company doesn’t sound so bad.

Fortunately, Mingyu is more than hospitable when you ask if you could bring Namja along for the ride—promising that he’s car-trained, and won’t make a mess as long as you pull over from time to time. In fact, your ex seems more elated with the idea of your goldie joining the road trip than you are.

“I can come visit Namja in Seoul whenever I want now, right?” he asks with a soft laugh, and you wanted to reply with, Yeah, if you aren’t always so far away, that is, but choose not to. 

The two of you take shifts in driving as usual. Whoever isn’t behind the wheel is in charge of entertaining Namja in the backseat so he wouldn’t end up whining for attention the whole drive back. It’s a setup that you’re pretty okay with, since it minimizes any sort of window for you and Mingyu to have a conversation. God knows you’re not exactly ready to talk about…whatever happened last night. 

So instead, you ask him about a bunch of trivial things so he doesn’t get any ideas.

“You sure your manager is okay with you returning the car while it reeks of Namja?” you laugh before switching lanes on the freeway. “He might not take the news that he sheds very lightly.” 

Mingyu chuckles before scratching behind Namja’s ears. “I promised I’d have it cleaned before I returned it to the office building. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm. Whatever you say.”

By your third stop-over, you decide to give Namja some food and water while Mingyu gets takeout for the both of you at a nearby fast food chain. You stretch out your limbs while your retriever happily laps from his water bowl, wondering how much longer it’s going to take before you reach Seoul. 

Before you have to part ways with Mingyu again.

You’re startled out of your train of thought when you see Mingyu practically sprinting back to the car, his sunglasses nearly falling off the bridge of his nose. Namja glances up at him quizzically, and you have to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, a bunch of fans spotted me in line, so we might have to get food back in the city instead,” he explains hurriedly as he helps tidy up Namja’s food and water bowls. “Let’s go. I’ll drive.”

After his meal, Namja is sated and sleepy—content with resting his head on your thigh as you watch the streetlights blur past the windows. Mingyu is a much faster driver than you are, so he’s able to cut the travel time shorter than it would have been had it been you behind the wheel. But the lack of anything to do has you quietly staring at Mingyu from the backseat while his eyes are glued to the road.

You can’t help but let your gaze linger on his strong arms, and the fact that you were tucked safely between them the night prior. But that’s your first mistake because now, you’re thinking about those desperate kisses you shared in the privacy of your room. Touching each other like you both feared the other would disappear if you didn’t pull them close enough.

You shake your head. No. This isn’t how friends should think about each other. 

Whatever happened back in Haenam, you’re just going to have to leave it there.

It’s already past eight in the evening when Mingyu eases the car into your neighborhood, and you try not to think much of the fact that he still knows where you live. 

“Guess that concludes our weekend getaway,” Mingyu says the moment he finishes helping you carry your stuff back inside your apartment. “Though it seems that someone’s getting pretty cozy really quickly.”

Namja is already familiarizing himself with his new home, wandering around the living room all while sniffing everything in his path. You stifle a soft laugh.

“Yeah. I guess it is,” you murmur before managing a kind smile. “Thanks for having my back, Mingyu. It…means a lot. Really, it does.”

He laughs softly, eyes trailing around the living room with a curiosity that isn’t so different from Namja’s. “You have your first boyfriend with you now. I can rest easy knowing you’re in good company.”

Your face flushes at the thought that Mingyu still remembers the reasoning behind Namja’s namesake. Namjachingu. When he was still a puppy, you said Namja was your first boyfriend, and that you didn’t need anyone else. 

He lived up to his title for years, too—always acting hostile around past boyfriends that you did end up bringing to your parents’ house despite coming from a friendly breed. The only boyfriend that your first boyfriend seemed to approve of is the man standing right in front of you, just when you thought you would never see him again within the four corners of your house.

“You know,” Mingyu begins, hesitation crossing his face for a split second before he meets your eyes. “My family’s in Seoul for Chuseok, too. I told Minseo to bring Bobpul and Baptori, and you might want to schedule a little playdate between my kids and yours.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Where’s Aji?”

“Too old to travel around,” he chuckles. “But I’m sure the other two can keep Namja company just fine. Join us tomorrow for dinner. What do you say?” 

You hesitate. This should’ve been where you drew the line. Mingyu has already helped you out of your initial predicament. You really shouldn’t create any more problems for yourself by joining his family for a late Chuseok dinner. In fact…

“What, you haven’t told your family that we split either?” you ask, half-jokingly, half-seriously.

“No, they know.” Mingyu shakes his head. “But they’ve always liked you too, so I see no harm in getting everyone to hang out in one place.”

You shoot him a pointed look. “You know this is just going to make things more complicated, right?”

When he flashes you that toothy grin, you already know that this is a losing battle. 

“It does, but it’s still going to be fun,” he says. “So, are you coming?” 

Sometimes, you wish you never met Mingyu at all. Maybe your life wouldn’t be so fucking difficult.

“Fine.”

…

The next day, you bring Namja to the clinic, and Chae is more than happy to see the brand new addition to the workforce. But while she’s giving your goldie more pets than he probably deserves, you ask if you have any clients coming this morning that called in advance.

“Oh, there’s this one guy who’s bringing in a maltese today,” she says, laughing a little when Namja whines at the fact that her attention is divided. “I think his name was… Seungkwan? Something like that. He has some records from last year, but he hasn’t been back since.”

Seungkwan’s coming today? Huh. Talk about coincidence.

You tell Chae about how Seungkwan and Mingyu belong to the same group, and your receptionist is adept enough to catch on to what you’re trying to say. She’s all too quick to suggest plans on how to mitigate the fans from flocking the entrance to the clinic, like that one time when Mingyu was too lax in disguising himself from anyone who could recognize him. 

But when Seungkwan arrives at your door, you remember that he’s one of the members that doesn’t particularly like being crowded by people, even if they are his fans.

He’s dressed discreetly—dark shades, a beanie, and a black face mask—while carrying an adorable pet carrier that’s probably worth half your monthly salary. Seungkwan is so straight-to-the-point with carrying out his business with you, that it’s hard to believe you and him used to joke around like old friends a year ago. 

But for some reason, when Chae excuses herself to answer a phone call, the façade he puts up falls apart in seconds.

“Noona, you have no idea how much I missed you!” he wails before throwing his arms around you. “Other vets just don’t cut it for Bookkeu! They’re always either too mean or too lax with her. You handled her just right today. Can’t believe Mingyu-hyung always calls you her worst enemy.”

You chuckle before patting his back, and Seungkwan pulls away with a pout on his face. “Hey, you guys are the ones who ghosted me after Mingyu and I broke up. You’re always welcome to come back to have your pets checked—non-showbiz girlfriend or not.” 

“That hyung of mine is stupid,” Seungkwan scoffs as he scoops Bookkeu into his arms. “Well, you’re kind of the same way, but I can’t exactly call you stupid or you might take it out on Bookkeu—”

“I would do no such thing, Seungkwan-ah,” you complain. 

“Okay, it’s just my personal opinion that maybe you two didn’t have to split up at all,” he huffs. “Mingyu-hyung has become more and more listless since you broke up with him. He might look like his usual self on camera, but when we’re not recording anything? He’s always so lost in thought! It gets on Coups-hyung’s nerves sometimes.”

Listless, huh… 

Your mother said the exact same thing about Namja. Speaking of, your gaze drifts over to your goldie who’s staring outside the door to your clinic, like he’s waiting for Chae to come back and shower him with attention again. 

Is Seungkwan insinuating that he and Mingyu aren’t so different?

“Maybe he’s just going through a blue period,” you suggest before writing up a prescription for the vitamins that Bookkeu will have to take for the next two weeks. “It’s been so long since we broke up. I doubt he’s acting that way because of me.”

Seungkwan breathes in deeply, like he’s just barely able to contain the urge to slap some sense into you. “Noona, listen to me. Kim Mingyu is catastrophically in love with you. When you called that night when we were sharing a hotel room in New York, it was the first time I saw him look so genuinely happy for reasons that aren’t related to our music. But that hyung of mine is too selfless for his own good.”

You startle a bit when he suddenly lifts Bookkeu closer to you and points her adorable face in your line of sight. 

“He wants you back, but he’ll never admit it, especially when you made your choice clear all those months ago,” Seungkwan says before pushing his maltese even closer to you. “But now, something tells me that you’re still hung up on him, just as much as he’s hung up on you—if all the things he told me about your trip to Haenam are true, that is.”

Huh. That time he took so long in the bathroom… He must’ve been talking to Seungkwan.

“Okay, but why does it feel like you’re using Bookkeu to threaten me into doing something?” You laugh softly. “Seungkwan, our time is up. And it’s not something we can just take back whenever we feel like it.”

“Wh—! Don’t you think things are only that way because both of you are making it more complicated than it should be?” He sighs, exasperated. “Also, yes I am using Bookkeu to threaten you. Promise that you’ll at least talk to Mingyu-hyung about this? We can’t stand seeing him so out of it anymore. Come on, you can’t resist those cute puppy eyes, right?”

You sigh, half-considering pointing out that Bookkeu is, by no means, a puppy anymore, but then again, you still call Namja that despite being more than a decade old.

“Alright, alright,” you relent. “I’m meeting his family tonight for dinner anyways. Might as well clear the air.”

Seungkwan gasps, a comical expression rooting itself on his face. “See! You’re having dinner with his family, too?! If you’re not back together by the time we fly back to the U.S., I'm never talking to either of you ever again.”

Now, it’s your turn to pout. “Who are you going to go to for Bookkeu’s check-ups then?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again before letting out a petulant huff. You can’t help the snicker that bubbles in your chest as Seungkwan tilts his chin up with indignance. 

“Point taken,” he says before narrowing his eyes and pointing his index finger at you. “But I’m expecting Kim Mingyu to come back to the dorms later, happy and not heartbroken. Okay?” 

You raise your hands before handing him your written prescription. “No promises.”

When Chae returns inside the clinic, you physically have to hold Namja down just so she can give Seungkwan a receipt for today’s visit. Your mother was right, he definitely was growing lonely back in Haenam. You haven’t seen him this excited in years. 

Seungkwan bids you another, more formal goodbye, now that you're not alone anymore. He doesn’t need to reiterate what he asked of you out loud—the look in his eyes is already telling enough. 

Given that today is a bit of a slow day, you decide to run a few diagnostic tests on Namja just to confirm whether or not he’s silently carrying some sort of disease. But all his results came out normal, except for a clinically insignificant but still noticeable increase in his body sodium levels. Might have to cut down the treats for a few days. 

Otherwise, he’s happy and healthy ten—going eleven—years into his lifespan. The reason for his lethargy back home must have something to do with innate loneliness after all.

Then you remember what Seungkwan told you about Mingyu. How he hasn’t really been himself since the breakup. You never really felt that during your time together in your hometown. He’s still the effortless charmer that you once fell in love with. The big softie that can get along with anyone and everyone, given the right circumstances.

Mingyu has always been a people pleaser. The last thing he wants to do is inconvenience others. So it’s kind of hard to believe that he’s been so out of it that even Seungcheol is starting to get pissed with his behavior. 

The sound of Namja barking jolts you out of your thoughts before your goldie pads over to where you’re seated behind your desk, whining as he nuzzles your hands as if he knows you’re thinking a bit too hard about something distressful. You let out a quiet laugh, scratching behind his ears just like you know he likes.

“I wonder what I’m supposed to do,” you chuckle. “Maybe I should’ve been born as a dog instead. Thinking about all of this is giving me a headache.”

Namja growls before barking again. Like he doesn’t approve of the idea of not having you as his fur parent. You let out another laugh that’s a lot less quiet before you decide to pull out your phone and shoot Mingyu a text.

Are you picking me up later or not?

…

Dinner with Mingyu’s family is splendid

The outdoor restaurant his mother booked in advance probably serves the best songpyeon you’ve ever tasted in your life. Add that to the fact that they accommodate pets in their alfresco area, this could easily be one of the next places you’ll take your own parents for a meal when you bring them to Seoul for a quick getaway. 

Namja is a bit shy around other animals—a result of being around no one but your family for so long. But when Minseo introduces him to both Bobpul and Baptori at the same time, the two little rascals easily coaxed your senior citizen goldie out of his shell. Next thing you know, they’re running around the outdoor dining area like a bunch of energetic pups.

“Unnie, are you back together with this guy?” Minseo asks in the middle of dessert, pointing her spoon accusingly at Mingyu. “You can do so much better than him, though.”

Their father laughs at their youngest’s comment, and their mother rubs Mingyu’s back as if she agrees, yet still wishes to console her son regardless. Mingyu is simply scowling at his family for how quick they are to throw him under the bus.

“Shut up, you sound just like Seungkwan,” he whines. 

“Well, we’re both right.”

You let out a laugh of your own before scooping some ice cream into your mouth. Then, tentatively, you say, “Don’t say that. Gyu wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend, you know?” 

“He’s always so busy though. Doesn’t even have time to come visit Bobpul and our other dogs anymore,” Minseo sulks. “He even missed my graduation! Can you believe it?”

Mingyu pouts. “I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” 

She huffs. “Not sorry enough!”

“Well, for starters, even if he is ridiculously busy, he still makes sure to call me before he goes to bed after a particularly tough schedule,” you say. “He also answers my calls even if our time zones are different, and it’s an ungodly hour where he currently is. Then when he finally comes back to Korea, he’ll give a bunch of gifts that reminded him of me on his trip overseas.”

You don’t know what compelled you to do so, but the words just gush out naturally. It was a little difficult the first time Mingyu had to hop on a plane to some other country to film some content with the boys, but you eventually got used to it, and managed to make a couple work-arounds.

Now that you think about it, if you were so used to it, why’d you decide it was best for you to part ways when he got back from tour? It’s been so long that you don’t even know the logic behind the reasoning anymore. You just remember feeling like it was the best decision at the time. And you were right—your careers have definitely thrived even after the breakup.

As you continue telling Minseo and their parents about how much of a catch the eldest son of the Kim family really is, you fail to notice the way Mingyu’s eyes never leave you the entire time. Soft, with just a hint of yearning that you’ll only be able to notice if you knew what you were looking for. 

“Ugh, fine,” Minseo huffs, and you don’t think she and Seungkwan are all that different from each other. “This is the first time I’ve seen a couple that’s broken up months ago talk about each other so fondly, still. You sure you two aren’t secretly dating again?”

“Minseo,” their mother scolds before flashing you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about her. Minseo’s just been really snappy lately. Must be because she missed Mingyu here very much.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if I’ll miss that credit-grabbing punk. He didn’t even acknowledge me in his latest Instagram post!”

“Speaking of dating again,” their father interjects before taking a sip of his wine. “Minseo’s right about one thing at least. You and Mingyu still have chemistry after so long. What’s stopping you from getting back together again?”

At your side, Mingyu flashes his father a cautionary look. “Dad, that’s a really inappropriate question, don’t you think?”

“Oh, yes, of course. My apologies. This old man is really just…curious, so to speak.” 

He bows his head slightly, and you make a little gesture that insists you took no offense. But the inquiry definitely made you think for a moment.

It’s like everyone you know completely supports the idea of you and Mingyu just burying the hatchet and rekindling your relationship. But didn’t they consider the logistics of it? You’re a full-time vet and Mingyu’s a full-time idol that travels out of Korea at least once a month. Though you’re a bit unsure of it now, that still played a part in why you called it quits in the first place.

Even when Mingyu took it upon himself to drive you and Namja back to your apartment, his father’s question still lingers in the back of your mind. 

What’s stopping you from getting back together again? 

The answer is pretty simple, but it’s not something you’re ready to face just yet.

It’s you. You’re the only one keeping yourselves from reigniting what you once thought was already lost. Your guilt. Your regrets. Your fears. You didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Mingyu would drop everything in a heartbeat if it meant you’ll take him back again. But as much as your friends joke about how you deserve better than Mingyu, you’re convinced it’s the other way around.

Mingyu deserves someone who can reciprocate the love he’s so willing to give tenfold. Someone who doesn’t flake out when he needs them most. 

Someone who isn’t you.

When he pulls over a red light, he lets out a sigh as he checks the text messages that popped up on his phone. After a few scrolls he says, “Oh. Jeonghan-hyung texted about some party in Gangnam. Do you want to—”

“Gyu,” you whisper, eyes riveted on the busy street. “What are we doing?”

He blinks. “Celebrating Chuseok together?”

“But we’re friends right?” You laugh somewhat bitterly. “Friends don’t normally celebrate the entirety of their Chuseok weekend bonding with each other’s families. Friends don’t make out with each other in the middle of the night. And…”

You let out a shuddering sigh before adding, “Friends don’t look at each other the way you look at me.”

You can clearly hear the sound of his breath hitching even if you don’t turn to look at him. It seems like he was about to say something in return, but the stoplight turns green, and he’s back to pulling his focus on the road instead of you.

In the backseat, you can hear Namja whining—ever the empath, that one. You immediately feel him pawing against your seat, as if silently asking what’s wrong. Turning around, you give him a few reassuring pats, not wanting to get claw marks all over Mingyu’s borrowed car.

The two of you are completely silent as he walks you back to the front door of your apartment. You know he didn’t have to, yet he did anyway. How Mingyu of him.

When you finally muster the courage to look up at him and bid him good night, Mingyu grabs your wrist—forcing you to meet his desperate gaze. 

“If I told you I wanted you back, would anything change? No, right?” he whispers, voice tinged with so much emotion, you can feel your own heart ache at the sound of it. “So I’m sorry if I’m being selfish for inviting you to every place I could think of. If I want to spend as much time with you as I can because I know I won’t ever get the chance to do so if I let this pass.”

When he presses your foreheads together, the look in his eyes is so smoldering, you can’t bear to look away. This is what a man that’s been yearning for you for months looks like, it seems. 

And you don’t think you can keep resisting him for long.

“Before I get thrown back into that haywire of a schedule again,” he whispers, and you feel every breath fan across your skin, “can’t you at least let me have this? Let me have you?” 

You don’t even know who it is that lunges in for the kiss. The next thing you know, Mingyu has you pressed up against your front door, devouring your lips where all your neighbors can see. But you don’t care. Not when he’s desperately holding your body flush against his as you reclaim what’s always been yours.

He whispers a bunch of things along the column of your neck as he loosens the strings holding your dress together from behind. Some sweet, some endearing, and others a touch too filthy for others to hear aloud. You stifle your little gasps when he wraps a strong arm around your waist, nudging your thighs apart with his knees so you can feel the hardness straining against his middle.

“It’s you,” he murmurs against your feverish skin, teeth grazing across your flesh ever-so lightly. “It’s always been you. And it will always be you.” 

You know Mingyu is a good actor. But it’s so earth-shatteringly different to hear the raw desperation in his voice. How earnest he is in telling you just how much he still loves you without saying the words outright. You can only dream of being as honest with your true feelings as he is. 

But tonight, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with letting yourself fall.

In the midst of your mounting desire for each other, though, a lone whine in the night snaps both you and Mingyu out of your newfound vigor. You nearly forgot about Namja, who’s impatiently waiting for either of you to open the front door so he can finally take a nap. You glance at Mingyu, and he glances right back, before the two of you burst out laughing like a couple of teenagers without a care in the world.

Once you’ve gotten your needy retriever settled outside, Mingyu practically tosses you on the bed the moment the door to your room clicks shut—all too eager to cage you between his arms as he continues where you left off. 

The suit he wore tonight looked a bit too good on his frame, but now you want nothing more than to claw it off him. He chuckles, sensing your desperation as he shrugs off his coat and unbuttons his dress shirt along the way.

“I don’t remember you being this desperate for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning down to grasp your face as he strokes your heated skin with his thumb. “I can’t say I hate the development though.”

“Mingyu,” you whimper as you guide his thumb to your lips, suckling on it in a way that you know makes him lose his mind every time. “Please. I want you.” 

It’s so easy to be honest with yourself. You wonder why you’ve struggled with doing that for so long, but then you remember that your brain is fogged with desire for the man that’s currently staring you down like he’s doing everything in his power not to fuck you into the mattress right away. 

But at that moment, you throw all logic and caution in the wind in exchange for taking even more of Mingyu’s thick fingers into your mouth.

“So good for me,” he whispers when he sees you inch your knees apart to welcome him in between. The hand that’s not being fellated by your tongue finds its way to the apex of your thighs—cupping your clothed heat in a way that makes you moan around his fingers. “How badly do you want me, sweet thing?”

“So, so badly,” you manage to wrench out despite your mouth being full, rutting your hips to introduce some friction between your aching pussy and his hand. “Please, Gyu…”

When he’s satisfied, his free hand migrates to your thighs, spreading you further apart as he brings his lubricated fingers to your sopping core. There’s something so fucking hot in the way he just nudges your panties to the side—groaning when he finds you already soaked for him. 

“You need something to stretch out this pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he murmurs into your ear, nipping at the lobe just the way you like it. “You want my fingers or my cock, babygirl? Better choose wisely.”

You want to say that you’re too fucking horny for foreplay, but also remember that each time you had sex with Mingyu in the past, the stretch of his massive cock can be quite uncomfortable if he doesn’t prep you. With how long it’s been since you’ve laid in bed together, you don’t want to rush into it without thinking of the consequences after.

So, you mewl, “Fingers first. Then your cock.”

Mingyu laughs—a deep, sexy sound—before planting a kiss on your nose. “That’s my girl.”

He carefully eases one digit into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he gauges your reactions. Part of you wishes to tell him that he doesn’t have to worry so much. That you still trust him with your own body even after all this time. You don’t say anything aloud, but Mingyu seems to get the gist from the look in your eyes either way, surging forward so he can press his lips back onto yours as he loosens you up.

“You’re always so quick to get wet for me, baby,” he sighs, stifling the noise that escapes you when he slides in a second finger to test the resistance of your walls. “You’ve no idea how much I missed this. Missed you .”

“Gyu, I—” Your breath hitches once he curls his fingers just so, making your legs rise involuntarily off the mattress, but Mingyu pins one of your thighs down with his free hand. 

“What was that?”

He’s teasing. He rarely ever does that. You shoot him a petulant look before taking his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging hard enough to coax a groan out of him. 

“I missed you, too,” you whisper. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good.”

A dozen emotions flit through Mingyu’s face in the span of a millisecond, but the one that remains is something not so different from longing. You hear him sigh a couple of words that you don’t quite catch before he’s taking his fingers out of your sopping cunt and pulling away from you. Just when you’re about to voice out a complaint, he starts undoing his trousers, kicking them away to some uncharted part of your bedroom before working on the rest of his dress shirt.

Not-so-newsflash: your ex-boyfriend is still fucking hot. 

But he doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re reacting to the sultry way in which he peels his clothes off—dark eyes still trained on your pliant form on the bed. As Mingyu palms himself through his boxers, you can’t help but press your thighs together in anticipation of what’s to come. 

There was a time when he railed you so good, you legitimately couldn’t walk straight the next day. You wonder if he plans on reenacting the whole thing tonight.

“Let’s get you out of that dress, sweetheart,” he breathes before gently guiding you back into a seated position, tugging at the hem of your dress before tossing it to the side. 

You feel your cheeks warm when he stares at the underwear set you have on tonight. Plain cotton panties and plain cotton bra. In your defense, you really didn’t expect to get laid tonight. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Mingyu chuckles. It’s either he can read minds or he still knows you well enough to figure out what you’re thinking. “I’m taking everything off anyways.”

As he makes quick work of what’s left of your clothing, you distantly remember the last conversation you had with Seungkwan. How you told him you’d ‘clear the air’ with Mingyu right after having dinner with his family.

You’re pretty sure what you’re doing right now is only blurring the lines even more, but you don’t really fucking care right now.

You let out a hushed moan when Mingyu latches his mouth onto your nipple, massaging your other breast as he swirls the appendage across your sensitive skin. His free arm snakes itself behind the curve of your waist, pressing you against his firm body while rutting his hips against the bed. 

He’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, and it fills you with a heady sort of hunger that only Mingyu can alleviate.

“Can I?” he whispers.

You feel his teeth graze across the skin of your chest, making your toes curl with anticipation. It’s been a while, but you can’t easily forget how much of a biter Mingyu is in bed. He loves leaving his marks on your body, and even if you always complain about how hard it is to cover them up, you let him do as he pleases every single time.

“Yes,” you whimper, rubbing your bare pussy against the ridge of his abs. “Do whatever you want with me, Gyu.”

The sound you let out once he finally bites down is caught between a yelp and a moan, your fingers threading across his hair as he suckles on your skin. He’s such a talker in bed, too—whispering all sorts of endearments that are too soft for you to hear, but add fuel to your growing desire regardless.

“So fucking pretty,” he says once he detaches himself from your breasts and marvels at his own work. The fruit of his effort is yet to become visible, but he’s left enough angry red marks on your skin to guarantee the lovebites they’ll turn into come morning. “And it’s all for me.”

Lacing your fingers around his nape, you mold your lips together in another kiss, tongues dancing to the rhythm of your erratic heartbeat as you grind yourself against his toned stomach. 

“Mingyu,” you whimper against his mouth—hot and heavy. “I need you inside me. Need to get stretched on your cock.”

He groans again, fisting your hair so that he can kiss you even deeper. As he busies you with his mind-numbing kisses, Mingyu gets rid of his boxers in a flash—positioning himself between your thighs. You nearly cry out when you feel the fat head of his cock sliding against your soaking slit. When he grazes your sensitive clit, you could’ve sworn tears started together in the corners of your eyes.

“Fuck, babygirl, so fucking wet for me,” he sighs as he lays you back down on the bed and eases your knees further apart. 

You bite your lip at the sight of his cock, still as long and girthy as you remember. Mingyu pumps his length all while sliding the head across your cunt, but you let out another desperate mewl to just fuck you already. 

“Shhh,” he says, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Let me take my time with you, sweetheart. I want you to commit all of this to memory. Gonna have you feeling me inside you for days.”

And you don’t doubt that. Kim Mingyu has a knack for making it hard for people to forget about him, and if he plans to fuck the shape of his cock into your pussy, who are you to complain?

When you feel his cock catch across your entrance, you genuinely wonder if it’s going to hurt. Mingyu’s attempt at foreplay was cut halfway through because he got distracted by his sudden desire to leave a trail of love bites all over your breasts. But the thing about having sex with Mingyu is that your comfort is his top priority. 

He would never do anything that he knows can hurt you.

“I’ll go slow, alright?” he whispers, and all you can manage is a nod. “Words, baby. You have to talk to me so I’ll know if you really want it.”

“Gyu,” you whine, arching your hips in a feeble attempt to get him to fuck into you. “I’m alright. Anything you do is alright with me, just— Please. Please fuck me full.”

He sighs, staring down like he doesn’t know what to do with you before finally, finally, you feel his dick breach your entrance—pushing inch by delicious inch inside you with restrained hunger. You fist the sheets at the familiar stretch, but it’s not so uncomfortable that the sensation burns. You’ve taken Mingyu’s cock dozens of times before, and it seems that your body still knows how to accommodate his ridiculous size.

“Pretty pussy’s happy to see me again,” he chuckles, his grip on your thighs tightening ever-so slightly. “Still made to fit me so snuggly. Did you miss my cock, sweet thing? I can feel you pulsing around me.”

“Yes,” you drawl. “Missed your cock so fucking much, Gyu. Fuck—”

You feel so hot, so full. It’s like Mingyu’s the only thing you’ve ever known—surrounding you in every direction until all that floats in your lust-addled mind are the letters of his name. Once he buries himself to the hilt, Mingyu doesn’t move right away, still so attentive to your reactions that even if you want nothing more than for him to rail you into the mattress, he won’t press forward until he’s sure you’re ready.

“Is it too much?” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Do you need more time to get used to me?”

Something similar to a growl reverberates in your chest as you stare at Mingyu hard. “What I need is…for you to fuck me until I black out.”

Mingyu’s lips turn up into a grin as he shakes his head. “Baby, the last thing I want to be is some sex-deprived savage after we’ve been apart for so long. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Then, he leans forward on the bed again, bringing his lips right next to your ear.

“But I can still make you feel good.”

He prefaces the words with a powerful thrust that you don’t expect, splaying your thighs further until they’re flat against the mattress. The slide of his cock still feels so unbelievably good that even if the sudden stretch should’ve been uncomfortable, you’re too blindsided by the pleasure to notice. 

Your eyes trail across the beautiful man above you as he fucks you in his favorite position. Mingyu has always had a thing for missionary—something about wanting to see your face as he wrecks you. You think you’re starting to share the same sentiment because not only do you get to see his fat cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt, but you can admire all of him at once, as well.

The exertion in those toned arms with every forward thrust. The conspicuous outline of his pecs. That toned fucking stomach. That gorgeous fucking face, so lost in the velvet heat of your pussy—

Why did you ever think letting someone like this go was a good idea?

“You’re going to laugh at me for this but,” Mingyu breathes, chuckling to himself. “I think I’m kinda close.” 

You do laugh, but it’s quickly silenced when one of his fingers finds your clit, rubbing it in quick, precise circles like he hasn’t forgotten how to get you off after all this time.

“I am, too,” you tell him. “Cock so fucking good, you can make me come in minutes.”

Mingyu lets out another guttural noise as he presses your knees to your chest, throwing your legs over his shoulder with a look in his eyes that promises nothing but pleasure. Though his fingers have departed your puffy clit, the angle he has you bent in has his cock easily grazing your g-spot with every thrust—reducing you into a pathetic, mewling mess underneath him.

“Your pussy’s a fucking drug, babygirl,” he sighs. “Haven’t wanted anyone else after you.”

Even in your cock-drunk haze, those words bring forth some semblance of clarity within you. But it’s immediately snuffed out when Mingyu amps up the cadence of his thrusts, fucking into you with the intention of bringing you to completion at the same time he achieves it. Your eyes are screwed shut, fingers finding purchase across the ripping muscles of his back as you babble an incoherent mantra of yes, yes, so close, so fucking close, love how you fuck me, love how you make me feel full—

And then, it’s over—a white hot flash like stars bursting behind your eyelids. You curl into Mingyu’s embrace as your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, and he’s all too glad to help you ride it out, pistoning inside your spasming walls with a rhythm that’s starting to stagger. 

“So goddamn tight,” he growls. “Where do you want my cum, sweetheart?”

You’re still too blissed out to give him a proper response, but from the way your legs tighten themselves around his waist, Mingyu figures that that’s the green light he needs to make a mess out of you. Mingyu sighs, burying his face in the crook of your neck before biting down—his cock twitching in the heat of your cunt as his release gushes into you in thick globs.

He comes so much that when Mingyu does pull out of your abused pussy, his essence trickles out of your hole as you do your best to catch your breath. The world is just starting to return to its normal axis in your vision, and the first thing that your eyes focus on is the sight of Mingyu smiling at you so fondly, it makes your heart hurt.

The look scares you. Like he’s about to say something that you don’t know how to respond to. 

So instead of giving him any leeway for conversation, you tug him back down into a tongue-filled kiss, rubbing your ruined pussy across his still hard length as you mewl against his lips.

“More,” you whimper. “I need more, Gyu.”

And he’s all too happy to oblige.

Mingyu slides himself back inside you with an ease that wasn’t present earlier—your mixed arousal acting as a good enough lubricant to accommodate him. His erratic breathing as he fucks his cum deeper inside you only serves to turn you on even more, making another orgasm creep ever-so slightly beneath your skin. 

“Babygirl can’t get enough of this cock, can you?” he sighs. “Seems to me like your pussy never wants me to leave.”

“Yes!” you hiss, moving your hips in time with his as you desperately claw at his back. “Love your cock so much, please—”

“Come for me again, sweet thing, I know you can do it.”

It’s unbelievable how a few choice words can get your body to submit to his whims without much thought. Unlike your first orgasm, the second one that Mingyu coaxes out of you singes through every functional nerve-ending in your body—sending you into a flurry of overstimulation that has you twitching under his touch. 

Just when you thought Mingyu’s finally done with you, however, he suddenly flips you onto your stomach—pressing your chest against the mattress while your ass is high in the air. The sudden change in positions makes your head spin, but you’re too dazed to protest.

When you glance over your shoulder, he’s showing you that same smile you fell in love with a lifetime ago.

“You can give me a few more orgasms, right, baby?” 

When he slides his still hard cock along your swollen cunt, you groan into the sheets—having momentarily forgotten that Mingyu’s stamina can go until morning. If you don’t stop him now, he might actually fuck you until you black out, despite his earlier refutal.

But honestly? You’re not against the idea. Not one bit.

…

When you wake up the following day, it’s to cold sheets and the startling clarity of Mingyu’s absence.

You never minded living alone. You’ve been doing it since your first year of college here in Seoul. You’re used to waking up with nothing but the silence of your room to keep you company.

Even when you eventually got together with Mingyu, lonely mornings have always been a staple, especially on days where he has early schedules. It fills you with a sinking feeling to see that he isn’t with you, but you’ve learned to take it in stride. 

Besides…it’s not like you’re together anymore now.

This is what you wanted, right? For him to not treat…whatever this is as if it’s a relationship thing. The two of you were just heavily pent up, and caved into your mutual desires last night. There’s nothing more to it.

However, when you pad outside the bedroom after shrugging on a flimsy oversized shirt, the scent of pancakes and frying eggs fills your nose. When you see Namja sitting right next to a tall figure hunched over your stove, you can hardly believe your eyes.

He doesn’t notice you right away—too preoccupied with making the perfect breakfast to pick up on your presence. Namja, however, is more perceptive, glancing behind and perking up at the sight of you. He lets out an excited bark before skidding over to where you’re standing, and you crouch down to the floor so you can give him a tight hug.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

Mingyu faces you with a smile that’s nearly blinding in the morning light, a spatula in one hand and a kitchen mitt in the other. It’s the exact same scene that you’re greeted with during lazy weekends where he doesn’t have any work to do, and your chest twists yet again at the memory.

“Yeah, I am.” You smile, rubbing Namja’s belly when he sprawls himself on the floor. “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have to go back to New York tonight?”

“Yes, but it’s still morning,” he points out, and you roll your eyes.

A few minutes later, Mingyu starts to set the table while you wash your hands. He tells you about how Seungkwan doesn’t want to room with him anymore over breakfast because Mingyu takes so long to close the lights when he’s binging a new drama. You tell him to be more considerate of his roommates or they might just dropkick him off the hotel room balcony in his sleep.

When you help him put away the dishes, the sight is so…domestic, it gives you whiplash. Bumping shoulders, splashing water, stifling mutual laughter... Being with him like this, tucked in your own little pocket of happiness makes your heart soar in ways that not even mind-blowing sex can help you attain.

You pray that Mingyu doesn’t breathe a word about it, but of course things don’t always go your way.

Just when you’re about to turn around to give Namja her morning fix of dog food, you find yourself trapped between the sink and Mingyu’s arms—unable to escape the fondness in his eyes even if you tried.

“I think,” he whispers, “we can still make this work. You and me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Gyu…”

You think so, too. With someone as understanding and compassionate as Mingyu, you know nothing’s impossible if you just quit being so stubborn. You were so afraid of him attempting to bring your relationship back to life last night, but…

Seeing him bathing under the sunlight in your kitchen after months of getting used to being alone again… 

Maybe it isn’t so bad to let him back inside your heart.

“O-Of course, you don’t have to answer right away,” he says, turning red in the face. Cute. “You can tell me when I get back from New York. How’s that sound?”

You’re about to open your mouth to respond, but the moment is quickly shattered by the sound of Mingyu’s phone going off. He sighs, releasing you from the figurative cage of his arms as he leans against the sink right next to you—fishing his phone from his pocket before answering it in loudspeaker.

“Kim Mingyu, where the hell are you?!”

“Good morning to you, too, Seungkwan-ah,” he chuckles. “Why? What’s wrong? I told Jeonghan-hyung I won’t be coming back to the dorms until noon.”

“Well, Jeonghan-hyung must’ve forgotten to tell everyone else because the entire dorm panicked when we realized you didn’t make it home!” the younger man squawks. “We thought something bad happened! You weren’t answering your phone last night either!” 

You and Mingyu exchanged knowing looks, and you have to stifle your laughter if you didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Seungkwan’s rage, too.

“Sorry about that, I was a little…busy,” Mingyu supplies. 

“Well, whatever you’ve been ‘busy’ with, you better get your ass back here! Manager-hyung is looking for the car you borrowed, and if you don’t bring it back soon, he’s going to give all of us an earful.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll be back in thirty. Bye, Seungkwan.”

“Hey—!” 

Mingyu ends the call with little remorse before letting out a long sigh. When his eyes dart back to yours, they flicker momentarily to your lips before he leans forward. You meet him halfway this time, pressing your mouths together in a firm kiss.

“I’ll be back,” he murmurs. “I hope you’ll still be willing to accommodate me when I do.”

Though it pains you, he peels himself away from your touch, leaning down to kiss Namja’s head as he gathers his coat in his arms. It just occurred to you that he’s been eating breakfast with you donned with the outfit he wore last night while you’re dressed in nothing but a loose, oversized shirt. The knowledge makes you blush a little.

When you hear Mingyu’s car drive away, you sigh, running your hands through your messy hair. Namja pads over to you, tail wagging as he anticipates another round of petting. Of course you indulge him.

“Kim Mingyu is such an idiot, isn’t he?” you tell your goldie, and you like to think the small huff he lets out means he’s agreeing with you. “Why wait until he comes back when I already have an answer for him?”

This time, Namja actually barks out loud, making you shake your head with a laugh.

You don’t mind waiting for Mingyu, really. He obviously doesn’t mind waiting for you. At this point, you’re at peace with the fact that you might still love him. Maybe, you never stopped loving him at all. Once he lands back in Korea and comes home to you, you promise yourself that you’ll definitely show him.

Again and again.

this is part of the doting on you! series.

[sugarnspice630]

Level Up - San

"The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?"

•pairing: dom!San x sub!reader

•word count: 1.3k

•tags: mdni, smut, overstimulation, humiliation, vibrator use (f receiving, m controlling), gamer san, Yunho, Jongho, and Wooyoung are featured in this fic with a focus on Jongho, bondage, reader gets ignored by San, slight praise, slight degradation, heavy teasing

Summary: San was tired of you interrupting his important game-play, so he took care of the problem by tying you up and making you cum many times, while the other members could hear.

Note: Reader internal dialogue will be blue text, San speaking but reader not fully paying attention will be red text.

A/N: Oddly enough this was a fantasy me and my ex had with each other, but we're no longer together so I changed it to be with men I care about now! Please let me know what you think and show your support by reblogging, liking, commenting, etc. Happy reading!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

San had enough of you interrupting his video game time with the members. Sitting in his lap, just trying to watch him play, giving him kisses every time he got a kill or did something good. Your constant need for attention was driving him crazy, and he had to do something about it. He excused himself from the party chat and muted his mic, or so he thought, before grabbing you off his lap and throwing you down onto the bed.

“S-San? What the fuck?!”

“If you’re not going to be a good girl and not bother me when I’m in the middle of an important mission, then I’ll have to force you to be one.” He snarls as he aggressively grabs your hands and ties them together before attaching your tied hands to the contraption hanging from above your bed.

“S-San I’m sorry!” You stutter in panic at the sudden shift in mood. You didn’t mean to set him off. You just haven’t seen him for a really long time and wanted to spend time with him, but I guess he needed his alone time. 

“Sorry is not gonna save you this time princess.” He turns away to grab something from the nightstand drawer. You realize what he grabbed, and you swallow the knot in your throat.

“S-Sannie please.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you can only watch as he pulls your pajama shorts and underwear away from your waist, turns the vibrator on, places it in your underwear, and snaps the bands back to your skin.

“Shut it.” He grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. You furrow your eyebrows and bite the inside of your lip. The vibrator was pressing right against your bud and already causing a sensation that you knew if it continued, you would cum many times. He lets go of your face and shakes the vibrator’s remote in a taunting way.

“The more noise you make, the faster it’ll go, got it?” You nod your head softly, trying to suppress the moan that is threatening to come out already. San leans back away from you and steps away to continue his game. You watch as he picks his headset back up, places it on his head, leaving one ear uncovered to hear if you make any sound, and continues like nothing happened. 

“Hey, sorry guys, I’m back now.” 

You’re biting the inside of your lip hard, trying not to make noise, and just taking it as it is. You’re trying to focus on San talking to the members to take away from the vibrating monster tucked in your underwear. 

“What do you mean?” He sounds concerned…fuck this vibrator is getting on your nerves. 

“No no, she’s…fine. All taken care of.” Maybe if you move your legs a little, it’ll take the pressure off your clit. You move your legs, but it doesn’t solve the problem and only makes you whimper. Fuck…did he hear that? How loud were you? You look up at where San is sitting, and he slowly turns his head to the side, indicating that he heard you. He picks up the remote, increases the speed, and sits the remote back down. You close your eyes tightly and squeeze your legs together. Fuck fuck fuck, that was a bad idea! The vibrator only presses closer to you. You squirm on the bed and try to pull on your restraints, it’s no use; they are not budging. 

“Wooyoung don’t, I got it. No, I said I got it! I’ll kill the Sova.” San please, for the love of god stop talking and just get over here and help me. You tilt your head down and accidentally let out a moan. You can’t even bring yourself to raise your head because you know what’s coming. You feel the speed of the vibrator increase again. “Guys, I told you she’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He’s talking about you, they can hear you. Maybe they could come and help?

“Y-Yunho? Jongho? Wooyoung? H-help.” You cry out and let out some moans in between. You hear San huff, and he turns around in his chair to look at you. You look up at him, and his pants are pulled down a little and his whole cock is out and rock hard. You stare in awe and feel your mouth water a bit. I-I want it. You look up at him with begging eyes, but when your eyes meet his, there is a cold, blank stare looking back at you. He brings his finger to his lips, signing for you to stay quiet, and increases the speed of the vibrator yet again. This has to be the highest setting by now! You moan out softly and you can feel the knot in your stomach twisting and turning, like you are close to your release. 

“S-Sannie please!” You watch as he turns back around, but you catch a slight smirk on his face. He’s enjoying this. That sick fuck! You whimper out a couple more times and squirm your legs together, trying to get yourself off as quick as you can so you can end this. “Don’t you guys enjoy the sounds she’s making~? Cute, little girl, can’t behave for me at all~.” He taunts the members he’s playing with. He’s humiliating you..on purpose! Fuck this feeling, it’s too much! I can’t! You hang your mouth open and cry out softly as you cum for the first time that night. You tilt your head back and just let all the feelings come out. 

“There’s one for you boys~. Should we try for more~?” What does he mean more? You feel the vibrator slow down back to its original speed, and it allows you to catch your breath for a few minutes. You look up to where San is sitting with half-lidded eyes. You desperately want him to turn around and see how much you are struggling, and to help you out. Your breathing is still heavy, but you are not moaning like crazy anymore. “What setting do you want Jongho~?” You move your legs again to take the pressure off and to try to get the vibrator off of your clit to prevent you from being overstimulated. “Oh hoh~ good choice man~.” You feel the vibrator pulse, and then stop, pulse, and then stop. Fuck! N-no!

“M-make it stop. Please~!” The vibrator pulsing and then not was exactly the sensation you needed to get you close to another orgasm. “I think she likes that one Jongho~.” You were already sensitive from the first orgasm, and if this motion continued, you were certain you would cum again sooner rather than later. Letting out a few pathetic whimpers, you close your eyes, and you can feel the corners of your eyes getting wet. “I-I can’t~!” “You hear her, Jongho? You’re making her feel this way.” You sob out from the overstimulation and moan out loudly. “San, please help me!” 

“I think the boys wanna hear you more princess~. I’m not doing anything to help you.” Moaning out at his words, you feel a knot forming in your stomach again. Every noise that comes out of you is a whimper or a moan, until eventually you feel the knot come undone and cum over the vibrator again. The shrill scream-like moan you let out would definitely be concerning if the other members heard it without context.

“My my~ that was a good one~,” San paused his words to turn around and look at you, tilting his head softly to the side and looking at you with half-lidded eyes. "Boys, I wish you could see her right now~. So fucked out and beautiful. I know, I know you all wish to see, but she’s mine, and I don’t feel like sharing.”

Looking up at San, you beg him to stop this torture, quietly saying ‘please’ over and over again. He gets up and gently caresses your face, lifting your chin to make you look at him. He smirks at you softly and asks a question, but more so to the members, cause you know he wasn’t giving you the choice tonight.

“Let’s go for one more, shall we~?”

[vampiresfromxenon]

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words 

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!! 

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

~

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy. 

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you. 

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love. 

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical. 

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations. 

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep. 

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads. 

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side. 

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you. 

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?” 

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space. 

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep. 

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know. 

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

 “I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice. 

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy. 

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks. 

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds. 

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-” 

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you. 

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him. 

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery. 

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel. 

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more. 

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy. 

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes. 

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again. 

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do. 

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words. 

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise. 

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you. 

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.” 

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips. 

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat. 

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing. 

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you. 

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest. 

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe. 

~

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :) 

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

[gothlcsan]

ESEX ; JEONG YUNHO

PAIRING non!idol yunho + afab!reader

GENRE 18+ SMUT

SYNOPSIS when you convince your boyfriend, yunho to take time away from his game to please you, both of you forgetting to turn off his headset..

WORD COUNT 2790

WARNINGS implied shower sex, dubcon (reader crawls under yunho’s desk without him knowing), chokehold (reader receiving), biting, kissing, mentions of breeding, non detailed aftercare, no protection (use protection yall), let me know if there’s more to tag!

a/n my first fic of the new year! thank you to everyone who has stuck with me throughout the year and engaged with my writing and this account overall. 🥺 id love to start 2024 with the goal of making friendships on here and writing for others so if you could share this and send any requests my way, id absolutely love it so much. happy new year everyone! much love. 🩶

Ever since you had gotten your boyfriend, Yunho, the new Spider-man two game for his playstation, he’s been a bit too occupied. You never minded when Yunho would set away time to play his games, always having an unofficial schedule of doing your own work or hobbies while he games. However, it’s been two days and the game was slowly (but quickly) getting in the way of both your relationship and life itself. He’s barely eaten, slept, and you were more than positive that the only thing he did in the bathroom was to use the toilet meaning; he was in desperate need of a shower.

Knocking on his door, you popped just your head in, having to step inside fully with a sigh seeing his gaming headset on. He was most likely playing with his friends (mentally apologizing to their partners knowing exactly what they’re going through) tapping onto his shoulder to grab his attention. Yunho blatantly ignores you, rolling your eyes as you shook his shoulder saying his name again to rob his attention from the game. This ends up with him pausing the game finally, muttering to his friends that he had to deal with something, the group groaning saying to make it quick. Turning his head he gives an annoyed, “yes?”

“Don’t be mean, Yunho. I was trying to not interrupt and ask if you wanted anything to eat but you couldn’t hear me.”

“I’m not hungry.” He goes to put the headset back on, stopping him by placing it back down onto the desk.

“Yeah see I don’t believe that because you haven’t eaten in a few days and I’m starting to get annoyed.”

Lifting up a handful of empty candy wrappers, you glare at Yunho stating candy wasn’t a nutritional meal, a pout forming on his face as he turns his hand to let the wrappers fall back onto his desk. Luckily, he was smart enough not to argue with logic.

“I’m just asking, come eat, shower, and then if you’d like to go back to gaming, cool. I hate sounding like your mum.”

Yunho blushes, apologizing as he tells everyone he’ll be back later on, saving the game before closing out of it. Standing up he feels the ache of sitting for too long, his empty stomach growling loudly as he sheepishly grabs for your hand to walk to the kitchen with you.

“You smell,” you said with a laugh, all but being dragged into the kitchen where Yunho finished multiple bowls of rice and plates of meat. You were happy to see him finally eat properly, enjoying your warm stew as he grilled more meat for the two of you to share on the portable grill.

Finishing your meal, the two of you slouch into your seats, Yunho thanking you for the meal. You laugh at him, telling him it wasn’t a problem and you were happy that he ate. Yunho excuses himself to go shower, giving you a kiss against your forehead before lightly jogging towards the direction of the bathroom. Usually you’d be bothered by having to make dinner and then clean up solo but hearing the shower finally running after a few days, you’ll happily do the majority of the work.

Placing the last of the dried dishes into the cupboards, you turn around hearing the bathroom door opening, anticipating for Yunho to come back into the kitchen (most likely to show you he showered like a puppy.) As if on cue, Yunho comes out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen in a pair of black shorts and a lavender gray sweater, towel wrapped around his neck to protect his hair from dripping onto it. Giving him a tight hug around his waist, you bury your face into his chest, inhaling his clean scent before looking up at him with a huge grin.

“You smell so good. Thank you.”

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Yunho says as he leans down and plants a kiss against your lips, walking back towards his gaming room.

“I love you!”

“I love you too, dork.” You yell back, going to your shared room to grab clothes to take your own shower.

Several hours later, you hit the realization that Yunho was still gaming.

Swiping your phone screen down, you purse your lips, seeing it was already one in the morning and Yunho was yet in bed with you. Placing your phone down next to you, you grab the collar of the baggy shirt you stole from Yunho, taking an annoyed look down at your lingerie hiding underneath the baggy fabric. It felt like a bit of a waste, becoming slightly upset by it. Deciding you weren’t going to get upset or put beneath a game, you climb out of bed making your way down the small hallway into his gaming room. Of course when you twist the doorknob and push the door open, he was sitting at his desk, headset on as he yelled at his friends who were surely doing the same to him. Letting yourself in, you stand behind him for a while knowing that he was engrossed into the game, oblivious of the fact you were positioned right behind him.

“Yunho.”

Nothing.

You nudge him a bit, “Yunho?”

Nothing. If you were a snake, he’d be bitten eons ago.

Huffing you roll your eyes, gently bending onto the floor until your hands and knees touch the carpet. Quietly, you slowly and carefully crawl against the soft carpet to make your way under the desk from the side, thanking Yunho in your head for having pristine cable management. Not wanting to ponder on the level of embarrassment you would’ve had to face if you got stuck or unplugged a cord. He still hadn’t acknowledged your existence, shrugging as you situated yourself to be directly in front of his lap, taking a deep breath before reaching for his shorts. His knee jerks, knocking his knee against the underside of the desk as he feels a tug on the band of the shorts, surprised. Yunho leans back and looks down, flinching clearly spooked when he sees you tucked under him.

“When did you get there?” He asked, confused.

“No, not you, my girlfriend. Shut up.” Yunho hollers into the headset, covering his microphone with his hand.

“You once again didn’t answer me and haven’t even got to see me in my pretty new lingerie.” You feigned a pout, yanking his shorts down.

“Babe-,” He’s cut off by you wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, glaring at him.

“It’s the least you can do, Yunho. If you want to play your game so badly, do so, but I'm using you.” You spat, watching his eyes widen and roll back as you moved your fingers up the shaft, to compare size, the tips of your fingers nowhere near close to passing the tip. He lets out a breathy sigh flinching as he mumbles a suspiciously quick “nothing” into his headset, his head falling back as you leave multiple wet opened mouth kisses up the shaft stopping around the tip.

“Is that my shirt?”

You grin widely giggling as you give him a nod.

“Mhm, I know how hard you get from seeing me in your clothes.”

Yunho must’ve forgotten his headset audio was on, groaning out a low, “fuck,” as he moved to kick off his shorts. His dick laid heavy against his abdomen and stomach, smirking pleased at his expression. Someone was desperate. Placing your hand back around him, you shift your weight so you can easily lean forward, wrapping your lips around one of his balls. Taking it into your mouth and giving it a few suctions at different pressures, Yunho groans loudly, this time a hand reaching down to lock your head into place. The twinge of pain on your scalp makes you wet in between your legs, clenching around nothing as you hum contentedly. Dropping him from your mouth with a wet pop, you fight his grip on you long enough to look at him and smile, hoping to get exactly what you want.

“Take it off.”

Removing his grip from you, he pushes back just far enough from the desk to give you space to maneuver the shirt off yourself, exposing the revealing lingerie hidden underneath. Yunho breathes deeply through his nose, feeling suddenly embarrassed by his deep fixation on you, Yunho clearly content with your choice. The black sheer lace complimented your skin, his long slender fingers reaching down to hook underneath the shoulder strap, moving alongside it until he reached the back of it - - unhooking the bra to fall onto your lap in one smooth movement. Your boobs fall from the bra, blushing as he helps you to move onto his lap, not allowing you a second to process before his large mouth is wrapped around one of your nipples.

“Yunho.” You enthusiastically moan into his ear, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck allowing your fingers to intertwine with his hair. His tongue swipes across the erected bud as he uses his hand to squeeze your boob, pushing more than just the nipple into his ravenous mouth. Your mind becomes clouded as the hand around your boob slips down your stomach until it passes the band of your thong. Long, slender fingers moving suggestively up and then back down your slit before suddenly delving two into your pussy. Clenching around the digits, you whine into Yunho’s neck who hushes you down by praising you, moving just the tips of his fingers not yet thrusting.

“Want, more,” You slur looking down at his hand, giving him an inviting kiss against his jaw that immediately turned into a soft gasp from the sudden thrust of his fingers. They felt incredibly deep already, your head leaning back to rest on his armchair, moans flooding the room. Erotically wet squelching from his fingers pushing into you makes you blush profusely, begging him to quench the fiery desire for him. Fortunately due to the fact you two haven’t had sex in the days he’s spent gaming, Yunho was more than eager to do as you wished.

“Let’s take these off, ok?”

Yanking the thong off your body and throwing thoughtlessly somewhere on to the floor, Yunho helps you up so you're comfortably positioned bent over his desk. He fixes your legs open for easier access, kissing up from the shoulder blades to the crook of your neck, giving a playful bite before refocusing his attention. Wrapping a hand around the backside of your knee, Yunho lifts your leg up, his dick sinking into you with little to no resistance. Your eyes roll up in satisfaction, wrapping your fingers around the edge of his desk to hold yourself somewhat into place, sweet moans already starting to flow past your lips. With each thrust another round of erotic noises are ripped out of you, your thoughts cloudy as you begged Yunho to never stop. He wraps his free arm around your throat, bringing you up to his chest in a chokehold. The grip was tight but gentle enough not to bring you any harm, the additional pain making you clench around him hard.

“Please, please, please,” you begged.

“Please what, hm?”

Your face burns up suddenly embarrassed giving him nothing but breathy whines that held no context.

“I asked you a question, please what?” Yunho reiterated, his grip tightening around both the backside of your knee and around your throat.

“Please breed me, I miss you.”

The entirety of your body inflamed in an instant blush, Yunho smirking as he drops his chokehold on you. You gasped for air, groaning between pursed lips as you felt Yunho’s large hands wrapped around your hips. His thrusts became sloppy but enough to hit all the right places, picking up in pace making the skin around your ass and thighs brighten to a pink. Feeling him twitched whilst inside you made your head spin in circles, it was more than evident both of you were close to your orgasms, taking in large breaths continuously begging Yunho to cum in you. Yunho’s breath warmly fanning your ear as he spoke and the weight of him being pressed against you to do so as he didn’t once slow down his thrusts into you, he bites and tugs at your earlobe before letting go.

“Should I fill you up?”

“Please, Yunho, please-“

“You’d look so cute filled by me.” Yunho cut you off, not having to see him to hear the smirk in his voice.

“Want you, please, please?”

Your eyes hooded over as he laughed over your desperation, fucking into you at a vigorous pace until his legs began to convulse and tremble.

“Fuck,” is the last word you pick up before your head fuzzes completely over, spilling around Yunho’s dick. Quiet moans are pushed out of you as Yunho reaches his climax, warmth filling you up. He slowly begins to lessen his pace, pulling back until he is almost completely out of you before pushing himself back into you balls deep. He mumbles about feeling warm but you’re unable to coherently grasp what he was saying, whining as he pulls out, clenching around nothing already missing him. You can feel your shared arousal drip down your thighs, whining for a kiss, smiling as Yunho felt your head into place to give you a loving kiss. Not caring about the sweat or anything else for that matter, you climb on top of his desk, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

The two of you spend a few minutes kissing as a way to “catch your breath,” giggling as Yunho pulls away asking how you felt. Pondering on the question with a hum, you watch his face slowly begin to switch to worry.

“I’m teasing! It felt so good, I missed you badly.” You reassured him, giving him another reassuring kiss on the lips.

Yunho begins to say something but freezes, his eyes wide in panic as he rips off his headset, leaning over you as he exited out of his game and clicked on something else you didn’t recognize. Asking him what was wrong his body simoustanly flushes a deep red, his gaze bouncing between you and the monitor.

“The game wasn’t off,” he pauses, “or the chat.”

You raise an eyebrow. “The chat?”

Yunho groans, begging you to not get mad at him, so red you were scared he’d combust into flames. Asking him again what he was talking about, his sudden concern starting to freak you out.

“The chat, as in my friends in discord, who was on call with me when you came in, heard us.. you know.”

It was your turn to turn red. You hadn’t thought about checking on that before continuing on since the two of you both were equally in the moment, hiding behind your hands in embarrassment.

“Oh my god, Yu, hopefully they didn’t listen.”

“What if they did?”

You weren’t sure why that question made your cheeks flare up the way it had, in between your legs warming and growing wet with curiosity. What if they had? Would they have stayed on and listened? Did they take their headphones off and acted as if they heard nothing? Lastly, why did the idea of someone catching you two suddenly turning you on?

Those “what ifs” ran through your mind at such a speed that made you nauseous, Yunho reassuring you it was nothing, pressing gentle kisses across your jaw and up to your lips. You decided to let it fade from your mind not wanting to overthink something so silly, allowing Yunho to pick you up off his desk bridal style heading out of the bedroom and making his way down the hallway towards the bathroom to shower together.

Now, you and Yunho had forgotten all about the mishap by the time the two of you had round two and cleaned up in the shower. However, for poor Mingi who was slumped back in his gaming chair with his arm covering his face, he was living through the shame of listening to his best friend and his girlfriend have sex. Which isn’t even the worst part of the entire situation, the brute of his embarrassment lied in the fact he had shamelessly masturbated to them. This quickly became a secret he’d have to carry to his grave with him. Groaning as he cleaned himself up, turning off his pc, and never bringing the situation up to anyone, thankful as you two never brought it up either, deciding it was best for everyone if no one acted like it happened.

[mercurygguk]

head over skates · jjk ; part i.

··· SUMMARY; jeon jungkook is the captain of the hockey team and one of the biggest fuckboys on campus. you happen to have known him for as long as you can remember but he is not who he used to be and you simply can't stand it.

so what happens when you're suddenly stuck doing a project with him for three weeks?

SERIES MASTERLIST · # TAG · MOOD BOARDS · PLAYLIST

PAIRING; hockey player!jungkook x f. reader

GENRE; fwb au, childhood friends to enemies to lovers au, college au

WORDCOUNT; 1,514

RATING; 18+

WARNINGS; swearing

a/n; HEAD OVER SKATES SERIES IS HERE!!!! it’s a drabble series now so these chapters will be short but that’s better than nothing amirite :)) i hope you like this first part! enjoyyy <3 also, please lmk what you think!

“The project will be done in pairs of two–”

Jihyo copies your smirk from across the room as you lock eyes with her. You were thinking the same thing – you and her will pair up and do this project together. As best friends and classmates since freshman year, you’ve learned that you work the best alongside each other. However, both of your smirks crumble into tiny pieces as Professor Kim finishes her sentence.

“–which have already been decided beforehand.”

You let out a quiet, frustrated groan as you slump in your seat. Jihyo pouts and shoots a glare at Professor Kim without her noticing. You watch with a bored expression as she pulls up a document showing the pairs for the project. You skim the document until your eyes land on your name, written in Times New Roman right next to–

Oh, hell no.

The universe has a sick sense of humor, is the first thought your brain is able to process as you stare at the name written next to yours. It’s the name of the one person you haven’t spoken to since senior year of high school. It’s the name of the one person you still hold a grudge against. It’s the name of your childhood best friend and high school crush – Jeon Jungkook.

When you first met Jungkook, he was just 5 years old and nothing like the man he is today.

Back then he had just moved in across the street and it didn’t take long for you to realize he was the cutest, most shy little boy – you can ask anyone who knew him back then. He was careful with everything from animals to dead objects to other people and yet he was just a pinch of wild and reckless enough to allow himself to do some of the crazy stuff kids do when growing up. He was smaller than the other boys at his age; short and skinny, a round head, framed by his thick strands of black hair. He also had big, star-filled doe eyes that could convince any adult to let him have everything his way. And having his way was something Jungkook got used to as he grew older – sometimes a bit too much perhaps.

As his best friend during all the years going from elementary school through middle school and the first years of high school, you witnessed it first hand – teachers and his friends alike were all willing to go out of their way to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. No one really knows how that came to be – perhaps it had nothing to do with Jungkook at all but everything to do with the fact that his father was the board director at one of the biggest enterprises in the country.

Jungkook has always been very oblivious, hence why he didn’t put much thought into the special treatment he received from everyone as soon as people found out just how rich his parents were. 

While in middle school, he had yet to realize how girls were starting to look at him, how they would giggle whenever he would flash his boyish smile in their direction, how they would almost trip over each other to get his attention and call his name during lunch breaks only to blush and say ‘nevermind’ when he would finally react. Jungkook had yet to realize that he was becoming hotter and less shy. He was oblivious as ever but still cute nonetheless. 

And while all this went down, you watched from the sideline, wondering when he would realize – wondering when your friendship would end. Because it would. You knew that from the moment Jungkook flirtatiously smirked and winked at your friend one day without realizing. Or maybe he did. Either way, you realized it on his behalf – he was slowly becoming a big flirt.

It’s now five years later and you were right. And as much as you like to be right, you’ve never hated it more.

Your friendship did end.

It started fading out almost as soon as Jungkook realized what he was able to achieve with his good looks and flirty nature. Now you and Jungkook attend the same college but in two different worlds most of the time. The chances of you and him ever going back to being friends like you were when you were pre-teens are minimal. And it’s not like you’re trying to befriend him again.

Cocky jocks who think they’re the shit aren’t exactly your first choice when making friends. 

And somehow during your high school junior year, Jungkook became one of them. He picked up on the term ‘working out’ and found out he had muscles and how to grow them. He also found out how to use those exact muscles to make the girls swoon, making them feed his ego way more than what is considered healthy. And as if that wasn't enough, Jungkook began practicing hockey.

And guess what? He was damn good at it.

Ego overfed.

As time went by, you and Jungkook talked less. He was busy with his new friends, playing hockey, and hanging out with girls that were way more interesting than his best friend, also known as you. Eventually you found yourself spending time with other people instead of him, finding it tiring and painful to be the second choice whenever his other friends didn’t have time or when his parents would mention you and he would 'suddenly' remember you existed. 

The sight of different girls from school entering and leaving his house without his parents knowing wasn’t that fun either if you’re being honest.

Although, you never actually told him that – but you didn’t have to because the two of you were gliding apart by each day you spent doing your own thing. It hurt but your silly crush eventually turned into anger which later turned into despisal and borderline hatred towards your former best friend. Because Jeon Jungkook was nothing more than just another jock with an overfed ego and way too many fangirls trailing behind him everywhere he goes.

Your point is deemed proven the moment Jungkook gets up from his seat in the back and makes his way to you – said fangirls all turn their scowling gazes to you the second they realize what is happening. You feel his presence before he opens his mouth to greet you, something about it making your stomach churn as he plops down in the seat next to you.

“Hey, partner,” he grins when you slowly turn to face him. “What are the odds, huh?”

You don’t spare him a glance nor a reply as you get up from your seat, leaving him behind and trying your very best to ignore the way his eyes follow your every move. Your professor seems less than excited to see you standing next to her desk as she looks up at you.

“Mrs. Kim,” you offer her your best polite smile, “is there any chance it’s possible to change partners for this project? It seems-”

Professor Kim glances back to your spot where Jungkook is sitting in the next chair, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back, hints of a smirk on his lips as he watches you and Mrs. Kim. “Miss ____, the pairs have been decided beforehand for a reason. I was hoping to save time and energy by doing this and will not be spending said saved energy on splitting up pairs just because you’re unhappy with yours.”

You feel a frustrated whine push at the back of your throat as the words leave her red-tinted lips. “But-”

“____, I know you prefer to work with Jihyo in every class you share,” she pointedly and calmly says. “But as the professor, it is my job to challenge the students and push them out of their comfort zone. If there aren’t any actual issues with having Mr. Jeon as your partner, I suggest you take on the challenge and get the best out of it.”

The fake smile she shoots at you has you frowning as you turn on your heel, defeat hanging over you in a gray cloud as you make your way back to your seat. Jungkook’s smirk has widened and he seems more than satisfied by the fact that your request got rejected by the professor. You slump in your seat once again, stealing a glance at Jihyo who got paired up with none other than Kim Namjoon – the top student of this class and her crush.

What a lucky bitch.

“Cheer up, ____,” Jungkook’s voice intrudes your thoughts, pulling you back. He’s smiling smugly when you turn to face him for the first time since he sat down. “I promise I’ll behave.”

You huff out an unimpressed scoff and turn your attention to your notes, the grip on your pen so tight your knuckles turn white. You miss the way Jungkook’s smile falters a little as you look away.

This is going to be the longest three weeks of your life – you’re sure of it.

all rights reserved © mercurygguk · tumblr

[clementine-thedestroyer]

Miguel O’Hara x reader - Sew cute

Warnings/tags: Miguel getting lowkey horny over his girlfriend knowing how to sew. Also, mentions of marriage.

Part two

I have this head cannon of rich bf Miguel finding his girlfriend’s hobbies adorable and taking every possible opportunity to fule her passion- I might make this a loosely related series, where it’d be the same concept but different hobbies.

I’m so sorry for the pun as the title.

It all started when a line of stitching on your pants began to loosen. The top stitching under the fly, specifically.

You complained offhandedly about it to Miguel, leaning against his side and pouting slightly as you whined about your favorite pair of pants starting to give out. Miguel chuckled softly at your dramatics, scrolling through his phone with one hand and rubbing your shoulder sympathetically with his other, eventually pressing a kiss to your forehead and promising to buy you a new pair next time you two went shopping.

Except, he never gets a chance. Because the next night, he comes home to the sight of you hunched over on the couch, your tongue bitten in concentration as a movie you’re not paying attention too plays on the TV, your head turned to something in your lap instead.

Miguel can’t help his curiosity- coming up behind you and peaking over your shoulder.

Looking down, he sees what you’re focused so intensely on, and it catches him off guard.

You held a thread and needle in one hand and what he assumed to be your pants in the other, carefully sewing a line of stitching into the fabric. Except, you weren’t working on your pants- your pants were sitting to the side of you- the stitching already repaired. Now, you had one of Miguel’s shirts- one he recognized as one he had planned on getting rid of because of a seam coming undone.

“¿Qué haces?” Miguel asks, placing his hands on your shoulders and rubbing loving circles into the tense muscles as watched you work.

You can’t help but shudder as Miguel’s fingers dig into your back, easing the pain from sitting hunched over for so long. You try to keep the shakiness out of your voice as you look up at him to answer his question.

“I’m fixing my pants. The ones that were coming apart- I told you about that yesterday, remember?”

“Love, that’s my shirt. Not your pants.”

“O-oh yeah.” You felt yourself flush in embarrassment, looking back down at the shirt you had stolen from Miguel. “Well- yeah- I finished the pants earlier. Then I found this shirt in with the rest of the clothes while I was putting away laundry. I-I hope you don’t mind that I’m fixing it-”

Miguel smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as he continued rubbing your shoulders. “Of course I don’t mind. But, I’m more than happy to buy us both new clothes. You don’t need to worry about pinching pennies.”

You turn to him, a grin spread across your still warm cheeks as you respond. “Miguel, there’s no reason to replace something so easy to repair! Plus, I’m enjoying myself!”

Miguel nodded, looking down to admire the stitching you had done on the shirt so far. “Hm… I didn’t know you could sew, mi amor.”

“It’s not exactly hard, just moving the needle through the fabric, you know? I haven’t done it in a good while, I forgot how much I liked doing this kinda stuff.”

Miguel was enamored by this new revelation. Before this, he had always seen sewing as more of an old person thing, but he couldn’t deny the warm, fuzzy feeling of domesticity he got from watching you lay in his lap as you delicately maneuvered the needle and thread through the torn fabric of his shirt. He couldn’t help but feel a hint of pride at the sight, it was like you were his little house wife.

Or…house girlfriend? Because he hasn’t married you yet…. But that’s really just a technicality. You’re his house wife, Miguel has decided it.

The next morning, when you handed him the repaired shirt with a proud grin, Miguel couldn’t help but feel treasured and loved from the simple gesture. Before this, Miguel would never have considered wearing something that had ripped them been repaired. He had the money to replace things, so why wouldn’t he? But from that day on, that shirt became his favorite, and he wore it every chance he had.

After that, Miguel started coming home with little handicraft and embroidery kits for you. Whenever he’d get see a kit he knew you’d like- maybe it had your favorite animal or something- he’d toss it in the cart and save it for a rainy day, whether that be a metaphorical or literal one.

And it all stayed like that for a while: Miguel bringing you small hand sewing and embroidery kits, you lighting up and getting started on them right away- usually spending the rest of the night on the couch next to Miguel with a movie or show on in the background.

Until one of your friends asked that you sign up for a sewing workshop with them. It was a relatively basic class, held at one of the local chain fabric/craft stores, but you had agreed to go, mostly for your friends sake.

The workshop was fun. You learned a bit about sewing machine tension and using patterns, and the sewing project given was simple and doable within the time period.

You didn’t realize that Miguel had come early, or that he was standing in the doorway of the classroom, watching you sew with a smile. He would deny it if you asked him, but he had arrived early on purpose to watch the last few minutes of the class. He had assumed the class was hand sewing, like everything else he had seen you do up till that point, and he was surprised to see you hunched over a sewing machine instead of your usual needle and thread.

It was like the first time he saw you sewing all over again: he was fucking smitten, and was going to make you his wife. That was all he could think about, because god help him, you already looked and acted the part.

Miguel was mesmerized by how focused you were as you moved the fabric through the machine. The way you bit your lip and furrowed your brow in concentration- it was precious, and Miguel wanted nothing more than to melt at how domestic you seemed while doing it.

And when you finished and came up to him? With a wide grin as you proudly presented the stuffed animal you had made during the workshop, insisting that you made it for him? His heart melted, right then and there. He squeezed that stuffed animal so tight and looked down at you with so much love, you were half worried he’d either pounce on you or make the poor stuffed animal’s head pop off (which Miguel might have cried about, at this point).

After the workshop, Miguel didn’t take you home. You and him stayed at the fabric store, him loading your arms up with fabric, patterns, and whatever else he decided you needed. “You like this one? No? You don’t? Well I think it’s just a good basic- like a black shirt, so we should just get it anyways.”

Oh god. And then he found the baby clothes patterns. You could’ve sworn you spent hours at that craft store.

[eddiessluttywaist]

the boy is mine (eddiessluttywaist's edition)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: romantic night at the trailer, based off of this prompt!

pairing: bf!eddie x gf!reader

word count: 1, 944 words

content/warnings: MDNI, fluff, kissing, lots of touchy feels, a lil smutty?

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage! also would like to credit @carolmunson for this prompt and @mrsjellymunson for tagging me! I haven’t written for eddie in so long, and this was a great way to get back into it <3 thank you! hope you enjoy my contribution <3

You basked in the scent of Eddie’s bedding, how he was ingrained into each and every fiber. Every motion, every shift of the sheets, you could smell him. He had foolishly left you to your own devices in his bedroom (which was surprising since the last time he did that, you almost dared touch his Sweetheart) so you indulged.

You curled up in the sprawling mess of blankets and sheets then grabbed the small throw pillow you had embroidered for him and buried your face in it. It was a delicate, pretty, little thing that stood out in his room even with its DnD theme, but he loved it. He loved that you made it, that you put so much effort into it just for him, so he slept with it every night. Unfamiliar with the concept of purely decorative pillows, he didn’t realize most people tucked such things off to the side before getting into bed each night. So, it smelled like cigarettes, convenience store aftershave, and his shampoo. The scent filled you with dizzying affection, only pulling it away from your face to then hug it to your chest as he walked back into his room.

“I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” he asked as he blew into one of the mugs and then used the bottom of his shirt to wipe it down. He was planning on cleaning those cartoon-themed cups properly for some absurdly fancy hot chocolate you had brought back from your family vacation. He was even planning on making another case for not wasting it on him, but, of course, his attention strayed easily when you were in his bed.

When his gaze finally fell on you, a lazy smile quirked up one side of his mouth. The handles of the mugs hung off the curl of his fingers which rested against his hips now as he took in the sight of you. He tilted his head to put it at the same angle as yours, his favorite pillow in your arms. You were an unbelievably endearing sight. The love that filled him was fluttery and overwhelming.

“And who said you could hold my favorite pillow?” He teased, sauntering over to the bed.

“I made it,” you scoffed with a smile.

He hums lazily in response, that crooked grin still hanging around as he shoved at the clutter on his bedside table. He picked up a small notebook, brow furrowed as he observed it only to haphazardly toss it towards his dresser to make more room. It was that or your tub of Betty Crocker, and he knew better.

You stared at his forearms, drinking in the movement of the musculature underneath. The warmth of his bedside lamp made it even better to watch the lines and curves of his tattoos beneath its comforting, golden light. How could something so simple be so beautiful? Your focus then trailed to the perfect structure of his hands as the mugs slid down his fingers. The ceramic cups clinked against the surface of the old table.

“I think as the creator, I have some right to hold it too,” you continued to make your case while he crawled into bed with you, giving you that subtle mischievous look he always got when he was toying with you.

His strong arms wrapped around you to secure you closer to him.

“I worked very hard on it, y’know.”

Eddie let out an “Is that right?” kind of sound, the texture of his jeans scratching against the bedding. He pulled you into him with such a desperate need to squish you as close as possible as if he thought you might be leaving soon. Those brown curls tickled your jaw while he nuzzled the side of your neck, audibly breathing you in.

“And it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to embroider all that Dungeons and—”

He finally pulled back to cut you off, smushing his face against yours in a way that made you giggle. Eddie’s kisses were always lazy and sloppy this late at night, but you loved them that way. His lips were warm albeit a bit rough from all the anxious biting that he abused them with. A pleased hum left him and vibrated deep in his throat, his large hands encasing the sides of your face and his fingers tangling in your hair. His rings would probably tug a strand or two when he pulled them away, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

The way your body relaxed reassured him, and he slid his arms down to pull you in again so your stomach could be flat against his own. Then, he let out a small chuckle when he had to separate from you to pluck the throw pillow out from between you. Eddie placed it elsewhere with emphasized tenderness while you stared at those ruddy lips that you missed already.

“Pillow was in the way,” he murmured in a low tone, kissing you back as you pulled him in for a few more pecks.

“And here I was thinking you were starting to love it more than me.”

“Aw, now don’t be like that. You know that’s not true,” Eddie drawled, grinning over that unconvincing little pout you gave him.

He sat back on his legs to move the bedding out of his way, then pulled you forward by your thighs which he readily settled in between. There was nothing he wanted more than to be thoroughly pressed against you. It wasn’t even about sex, at least not always. He just loved the feeling of you being so close to him. The softness of your stomach against his taut abdomen. The plushness of your chest pressed against the flat planes of his own. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the way your bodies fit together too, but he’d melt into you if he could.

Eddie was the type to lean into you while you were walking together, ending up so close that his wallet chain would keep bumping against you. He always sought out your hand to hold or your shoulders for him to drape his arm across (which of course always ended up with him folding you into him so your face would press against a Hellfire symbol or band name, and he could settle his chin on the top of your head). 

“I don’t think I believe you.”

You crossed your arms, failing to keep up with your façade, especially with that smile and those dimples.

“Well then, my dramatic lil lady,” He spoke with that same theatrical cadence that he used during campaigns, his brow furrowed with determination. You groaned over the incoming mawkishness, rolling your gaze up to the ceiling and smiling to the point that the apples of your cheeks ached.

“I suppose I must convince you.”

His hand settled on the side of your neck, thumb brushing against the center of your throat as he dipped down for another kiss.

“You’re so corny,” you laughed against his lips. 

“And you… taste like vanilla,” he sighed, laughing with you after.

“Mm, well, that is the work of Ms. Betty Crocker,” you smiled up at him, gently tapping his nose. “Speaking of…”

Eddie groaned, mentally cursing himself for even bringing it up as you squirmed out from underneath him to grab the container from behind the abandoned mugs. He watched you intently while you sucked a scoop of frosting off your finger. When you met his gaze, he gave you a cheeky grin that he failed to conceal by biting his lip and then wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“You’re a child,” you snorted, reaching out to tap some frosting onto the tip of his nose.

“And you’re devastating,” he countered in a voice so sickeningly saccharine with love that you wiped the frosting right back off. He caught your hand and sucked the sugar from the pad of your thumb before you could fully pull back.

“Who knew the local bad boy could be such a softie,” you teased softly, scooping some more frosting to feed it to him. Eddie playfully bit down just enough to make you laugh.

“I believe you mean ‘the local freak.’”

“Mm, tomato, tomahto,” you shrugged, lapping up some more frosting off your finger. His rich umber eyes seemed to glitter in the dull lighting, his pupils dilating. You looked up at him through your lashes when you felt his stare.

“We’re gonna have a problem if you keep doing that,” Eddie’s voice was rough even as he smiled over you.

“What?” you laughed, full of faux innocence. He just smirked. “No, what?”

“You know what.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you shrug, going to scoop some more frosting out when he snags the tub from you.

“Wh— hey!”

You already missed his warmth when he sank back onto folded legs, dipping his forefinger into the tub.

“You’re gonna get your rings all sticky,”

You blushed when that made him cackle, but you at least got the comfort of his body again as he hunched over you. His smile was tangible against the side of your neck, his hair tickling you again.

“Not the only thing that—”

“Eddie, shu-u-ush,” you laughed, and he flattened himself on top of you again, leaving tacky, sugary kisses on your neck while you pried the vanilla frosting from his hand. He gave up on keeping it from you, happy to have a free hand again to seek out your waist with.

Holding the container with one hand, you arched your other arm over him to scoop just one more—you swore just one more! —fingertip of frosting, but he was pulling back before you could even dip into it.

“Gimme that—”

“So rude taking things from me today,” you tutted, watching with a pout as he fed himself some of your treat.

“Have to have you all to myself,” he mimicked some toxic-alpha-dude-type bravado, but he couldn’t even get through it without chuckling at the end.

Eddie prodded at the dwindling supply of Betty Crocker’s then tossed the container back onto his bedside table. But you reached out to catch his wrist and brought his index finger to your mouth before he could bring it to his own.

He groaned, leaning onto one elbow while he gawked at you. His full lips parted at the sight of you, his thumb brushing against your cheek as you sucked on his finger. Damn.

“You never play fair.”

“And you like that,” you stated proudly once he slid his finger back out of your mouth.

“Course I do,” he grunted, sliding the pad of his thumb over your lower lip. “May have taken a few attempts to graduate, but I’m not that dumb.”

Your following giggle was breathy and fleeting as you sunk into the tension filling the room. You took in the growing heat in his gaze that tracked his thumb while it hooked your bottom lip. He mimicked opening his own mouth as you did so without even being asked, making him smile and drag his tongue over his lip. He slid his pointer finger down your tongue again, letting it trail down until he was holding your chin between his curled finger and thumb. Keeping your chin down and lips parted, he leaned in. The kiss was firmer—more determined—and desperate. He was putting every ounce of his desire into you, and this time you were the one melting. You felt like you were sinking deeper into that old mattress, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him with you.

[lady-lauren]

Apotheosis

↬ Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

↬ Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

↬ Warnings/Tags: breeding, talk of pregnancy, dacryphilia/tears, possessive actions, power dynamic/age gap, cum eating, excessive cum/creampie

↬ A/N: It’s been a while since I showed love to my favorite man 💕 Apotheosis: the highest point in the development of something; culmination or climax.

Tears are expected in Erwin’s world. Fat, emotional tears upon the loss of a comrade, tears of frustration at the end of a failed mission, cries of agony of a population ravaged by fear and unrest. 

But he could drown in your tears, feast on them like waters from the heavens. You’re pretty when you cry, delicate and overwhelmed, all from him and him alone. His actions, his words, his pleasure and pain.

“Take it, darling, all of it.” 

You’re barely undressed, tits spilling from the torn buttons of your uniform, leather straps of your gear pressing into the fat of your thighs as the fabric of your pants struggles at the spread of your legs. 

“C-Commander, I, please, I—” nonsense, it’s all nonsense as he flattens you against his desk, cockhead spearing through the unprepared, yet dripping folds of your cunt. 

It’s been weeks since he’s seen you. He has no patience left to spare. 

Erwin breaches the first ring of muscle into your depths, hissing through his teeth as he feels your pussy suck around him. 

He can’t even remember if he locked the door to his office before he pounced on you, his favorite little cadet. 

“Good girl,” he coos, thumbs smoothing over your ass as he bullies his way inside of you. You choke below him, sucking in air at the intrusion. 

It’s all too much, the burning spread of your cunt and the way he presses your aching breasts against the crumpled papers, fingertips mean and eager against your hips. But he adores when you get overwhelmed, gasping like you haven’t taken his cock countless times before. 

“I’ve been thinking of you,” he grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, your ass slapping against his pelvic bone, belly quivering as his cockhead brushes against the most sensitive parts of you. “I’m going to cum inside of you, darling, fill you to the fucking brim with me.” 

“Oh god,” you whine, wiggling against his hold as you come to terms with the full stretch of his length. His veins are throbbing inside of you, pulsing against your walls. He doesn’t give you the time you deserve to adjust, instead using your flesh like a toy and bouncing you back and forth on his cock. 

“I–we–I-I can’t have…we shouldn’t…” you moan and writhe below him, asschecks bouncing with every sharp thrust. 

The vision of you pledging your oath to the nation, to him, is crisp in his memory. Your fist over your chest, eyes gazing up at him from the second row of fresh cadets. He’d noticed your faith then, felt drawn to you like a moth racing toward a funeral pyre. 

He’s let himself be consumed by your dark flames, let dreams of you belonging to him, only to him, fill waking thoughts. 

“You don’t want my babies, darling? Is that it?” 

The sound that drips from your throat is sinful, longing, like his words have speared through your heart and ripped tender emotions. 

A heavy hand runs the length of your spine, stopping at the base of your neck to press you down harder, keeping you trapped below his strength. 

“Y-yes, Erwin, I–fuck, but we can’t,” your tone lingers on your opposing declaration, brave but lost. You mean it, but you don’t. 

Leaning forward, Erwin drops his lips to your ear, slowing his pace to a grind into your cunt. 

“Your pussy is desperate for me, I can feel it—you want to milk my cock, want me to fill your insides with my cum.” 

Your nails scrape at the wood in his desk, leaving lines in their wake. Your bodies are heady, sweat bleeding into cotton and leather straps catching against the press of his thighs to yours. 

“Let me tell you what I think about, darling,” he whispers wickedly, hand slipping between the press of your stomach into the edge of his desk. He is brutal with the remainder of your shirt, ripping threads and snapping buttons as he claws his way to your skin. 

“I think of you ripe with my child, my seed growing inside of this strong, perfect body. I imagine you glowing, flushed with hormones and proud at the mention that your child is mine. That I came in your body, took you, bred you.” 

Perhaps he’s being purposely crass—he wants a reaction from you, wants to feel your emotions bubble over and spill at his feet.

“Oh fuck,” you squeak below him as he continues to press into you, his cock hot and angry, his weight heavy upon your back. “I want that, god fuck I want your babies, b-but it’s so…” your thoughts trail away as the mental image becomes too much to handle—you, pregnant and showing, growing the Commander’s child in your womb. 

Erwin relents, pulling his aching cock from your cunt. He smooths his hands over your body, warm and affectionate, coddling you as he repositions to have you face him. 

“It’s too much…” your voice is soft, eyes blinking away the treacherous emotions that have settled into your psyche. 

“Look at me.” 

He says your first name as he pets your cheek, the taste of the syllables like sin on his tongue. 

“I want you,” he asserts, latching his lips to yours to prove his point, “more than you'll ever know, darling. You’re mine. You always have been.” 

He plucked you away from the Military Police the moment he laid eyes on you; requested a direct transfer to have you working below him, for him. Then he got inside of you, felt every raw desire and built an unwavering trust. Every time he’s fucked you, he’s been discreet, kept you away from prying eyes. Now he wants all eyes on you, on him, on how he’s taken you. 

Gently, he peels the tatters of your shirt from your breasts, placing hot, long licks along your nipples. You buck against him, brave hands tangling in his hair and pulling at the roots.

Taking his time with you almost feels foreign. Every fuck has been to satisfy the obession inside of him, a whirlwind of potent feelings and lust. Claiming you in the dark, a palm over your mouth, his fingers on your tongue and in your cunt.

Now he kneels before you, experienced hands unbuckling the worn scout leathers from your thighs, kissing at the grooves left behind in your tender skin. 

You awaken the most primal of needs inside of him—to have, to claim, to breed. 

The lines of his roman nose disappear between your legs, skimming along the folds of your pussy as he licks along your slit. 

“Erwin, please…” Naked, you sigh with the utmost content, head tilting back as you fall prey to all the emotions swirling in your gut.

“Please what, darling? Use your words, tell me what you want.” 

Gazing from between your thighs on his cheekbones, your slick on his tongue, his cock throbs against his pants as he watches the faintest of tears pool on the apples of your cheeks. 

He loves ruining you, overloading you with so much passion that it becomes visible. 

“Breed me. I want to feel you cum inside of me.” 

“Are you sure you’re prepared for this?” He rises to loom over you, tugging your body against his, his clothes sticking to your soft, dewy skin. “I will fill you until you can take no more, fuck you as many times as it takes to breed you properly.” 

Pupils dilated and dark, you nood, fisting your fingers around the leather strap that clings to his pectorals. 

“Please…make me yours, all yours.” 

Erwin slots between your plush thighs, golden hair falling against his brow as he shoves his cock back into your depths, groaning at the feel of you spreading for him. 

His size is to his advantage as he consumes you, bucking hips and bouncing you along his shaft. The boldness inside of you is growing, he can feel it in the way you move against him—hungry, greedy, eager to take everything he can give. 

A hand grips meanly into your thigh, while the other traces up your back, coming to rest on your jaw, keeping your gaze smoldering into his. He moves ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against yours with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds leave your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. He adores how he can feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your tight walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

A coil of pleasure begins to tighten within his lower stomach, boiling in his balls, hot and mean, like it is ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moan his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focus on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

“Everyone will know,” he murmurs against your wet lips, stealing your breath, “your babies will look just like me.” 

He knows how to play you, circling your clit so perfectly with his thumb that you’re already shaking. Your lower belly clenches, all the euphoria rushing to your head and making you feel drunk.

 “God you get so fucking tight,” Erwin grunts at the feel, starting the kind of brutal pace that told you he was already aiming for the finish line, ready to fill you up and watch you drip just so he could do it all over again. 

Everything is burning, like a warm, wet glow between your legs, filled to the brim with him. You gasp and moan, little sounds you just can’t help, too overwhelmed. He stretches you so wide that you feel breathless, tears leaking down from the corners of your eyes. 

“Good girl, let it all out. I’ll take care of you, promise.”

“G-gonna cum, Erwin, fuck…”

“Me too.”

His hips still for a moment so you can both feel the way his cock pulses, forcing his seed deep into your womb. The heat breaks you along with his thumb on your clit, making you cry into his chest as you fall over the edge. Your pussy is a milking compression around him, squeezing every last drop of his cum. There’s too much to keep in, hot seed dribbles out over your pussy and around his cock to paint the inside of your thighs and make a mess against his desk. 

But he doesn’t stop. 

His cock is still hard and twitching inside of you, fat and heavy as he starts to push back deeper into you. Your head dips forward against his shoulder, one of his hands holding your neck while the other splays across your belly before moving lower. Two fingers slide along the folds of your cunt, spreading around his intrusive cock so he can feel his leaking cum. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, “your cum feels so fucking good.” 

Erwin groans, lifting his messy fingers to your agape mouth. You take them in without question, sucking at the taste of cum and slick pooling against your tongue. He keeps your mouth stuffed with the digits, allowing you to scream around them as he picks up his pace.

He’s a man determined, sight sets on a goal. He promised to breed you, and he will. No matter how many batches of cum it takes for his seed to take hold. 

The squish of his cum spurting with every thrust is mesmerizing, breathtaking, and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of his pretty little girl taking in his cum. You’re a mess, streaked with tears and cum, spit dripping down your chin as you choke around his cum stained fingers.

Erwin removes his fingers from between your lips, angling you back so he can watch your tits bounce with every plunge of his cock. Brushing wet knuckles over your breast, he tugs on your nipple until you mewl. 

“C-Commander,” he’ll never tire of hearing his title in your mouth, “I want more.” 

“More what, darling? Tell me.” 

“More cum, god, fuck I want to drown in it.” 

In the back of his mind, Erwin is distinctly aware of sounds outside of his office door, shuffling feet and whispers. But nothing could stop him, not even God Himself could bust into the room and remove Erwin from you. He has you where he’s always wanted you—panting, weeping, begging for him to breed you, to keep you. 

He tugs you against him, using you like a little cocksleeve made to suck his cock dry. 

“One more,” he groans, “give me one more, darling. Let me feel you cum for me.”

You nod like you have any choice, pulling your thighs up farther so you can lay flat against his desk and take his onslaught. 

Long fingers circle back to your puffy clit, rolling the tender bud until you can no longer keep quiet. The feel of you is electric, spiraling, pussy spasming against him, slick gushing with every crest of pleasure that comes over your body. Your climax has you splitting apart, and also sucking him in so deeply that he can't help but to pour his load into you.

Erwin finally pulls his still throbbing cock from your cunt. You are ruined, the tightening of your belly in the aftershocks of your orgasm making cum continuously bubble out of your hole, drooling onto the edge of the desk and into his floor.

“You look so perfect covered in my cum.”

Erwin’s fingers are quickly back between your legs, making you whine as his fingertips glide over your swollen clit. He trails his fingers down your thighs, gathering what cum is still traveling down your legs. He pushes the lost cum back inside of you, making your back arch at the oversensitive feeling. Over and over again, he repeats the motion, taking his time to gather every viscous droplet and push it back into your quivering cunt.

“I expect you to meet me in my room tonight, understood?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

[xazse]

scara would be such an asshole to bunny!reader (or hybrid!reader in general) lol, constantly pulling your ears and pulling your tail..

can I request scara teasing bunnt reader and then he starts to feel a little bad when he notices his bunny is all sad and sulking!

How can he not feel bad when he hears your sobbing in the middle of the night?:( He'd probably fxck you dumb and fill you as a sorry <3

SCARAMOUCHE X BUNNYGIRL!READER

Notes: you guys are killing me so good 😭, btw if you do want more scara stuff leave me some prompts like the first anon did, I’m kinda running short on ideas. And I decided to combine two asks

Pairings: Scaramouche x Bunnygirl!Reader

Tags: Hybrid!Reader, Crying, Squirting, Mean!Scaramouche, Biting, NOT PROOFREAD (lol none of my works are)

Oh he’s such a bastard some days, when he thinks you’ve been a little too annoying some days he’ll simply tap your nose, he knows how sensitive the damn thing is, it’s the only thing that’ll get you to give him some time to hear his own thoughts, it doesn’t last long before you’re giving him feather light kisses all over his face.

A day where he’s relaxing in his office, all his work finished you come prancing in yipping for his attention again… for the third time today. He’s sitting in his chair when you come wrap your arms around his neck and sit down on his lap. Scaramouche really isn’t in the mood

to entertain you, so he gently pushes you off.

“Not right now..” Scaramouche scolds, he can’t see the hurt in your eye but you make no move to leave the room, you’ve been with him for a while but still aren’t used to blunt attitude.

The rest of the week is spent him pushing you away, turning you away, barely engaging with you, it hurts you so badly, you want to be able to talk about your day with him, cuddle and kiss him but he just isn’t going for it.

Your breaking point is when you were both in bed, you were half asleep and attempted to move on top of him just for the extra comfort, it was fine the first few seconds, your long fluffy ears relaxing before he once again brushed you off of him, insisting it was way to hot for you to be ontop of him.

That really was it, you started to sleep in the living room, giving scara the excuse that it was too stuffy in the bedroom right now, he didn’t even double check to see if that was the real reason. Later that night he’s awoken by soft sobbing, he’s been waiting so patiently for this, for you to break down already. He knows it’s a terrible thing to do, make his own girl cry just for the sake of pleasure, he can admit it was a little hard but nonetheless his pants tighten at the sound of your sniffles.

He treads soundlessly to the living room where you’re under the cover, on your stomach. your sobbing becoming more apparent. You haven’t noticed his presence yet, not until you jump from feeling a hand rubbing your cunt back and forth, only the thin layers of your panties keeping him from directly touching you. A small whine leaves your throat in-between your sniffling, and it’s so fucking hot, he doesn’t stop the motion of his hands before he’s palming his heavy cock beneath his hand.

His eyes are half lidded looking at your twitching tail, the small thing visible even under the cover. You don’t make a move to look at him either, simply content with just the pleasure he’s giving you. He removes the cover off your form he can’t see your face due to it being buried into a pillow, you won’t allow him to see your ruined face, won’t allow him to see the progress.

That just spurs him on further, his breathing’s increased a tenthfold. He grips your hips and lifts them up, but he lets you continue to sulk in the pillow, a nice arch being showcased to him. He doesn’t want to rush into fucking you, he wants you a little dumb and numb.

He pulls his underwear down a little, letting only his cock free, his balls heavy with need looking at your clothed cunt. He grabs ahold of your hips again and pulls you right against him: agaisnt his cock, he starts slow when he rubs himself against your pussy, groans are already leaving his throat in short pauses. He’s guiding your hips up and down.

You looked so cute, the ultimate submission from your part has his hips speeding up, he’ll worry about apologizing later, right now he needs to be balls deep inside of you.

He quickly pulls your panties down, exposing your pussy to the cool night draft. His sweet bunny is oh so wet from the grinding: it makes the situation much easier. He jerks himself off a few times before lining up with your hole and pushing himself In all the way.

A sharp whine leaves your lips, it doesn’t even take another second before your clenching down on him, he doesn’t give you time, already giving you fast deep strokes, so deep he has to use a little bit of strength to hold your torso down. The way his cock drags along your walls is so good, so dizzying, he positions himself to press his stomach on your back, getting close to your head right in your ear.

“So good, you feel so good..” the way his voice shivers makes you feel a tad bit better but that doesn’t excuse the hurt, your tears have dried up, your sobs have stopped but the constant sniffling remains.

He continues to fuck you hard, whilst still whispering obscenities into your ear, he leans up just a little, seeing your ears twitch a sudden desire fills him, a mean one at that: he bites the fluff of your ear down hard. Your eyes flutter shut hard and you cry out in pain, he feels your pussy contract around him, and a liquid coating his cock, he feels his body flare up , he’s hammering into you even harder than before while you cry and babble out his name repeatedly, it’s the first time he’s made you ever squirt but it’s still an achievement, he didn’t even know your ears were just that sensitive.

[hyewka]

Okay okay!

Imagine walking in on long time bestfriend Kai using a pussy pocket on himself! Like...he's whimpering and moaning, edging himself and bullying his pretty dick with it.

And reader is like standing there not knowing what to do in a situation like this except feel the heat pool between her legs until Kai loudly chants reader's name while he's cumming...moaning and whining as he drains himself of everything he's got.

(+ he has such a sweet, reddened face, all sweaty and breathy but his arms are all veiny, wrapped around his huge cock!!....???!!)

From your new freaky deeky anon that loves you so much!!

- 🩰

warnings. assumed kai stole mc’s panties, perv!kai, pocket pussy, sub!kai, childhood best friends, not proofread i got a little excited over this ask lol

when your parents decided to take up the chance of renting a summer vacation home with kai’s family tagging along, practically tight knit family friends because of you and kai’s inseparability since childhood, you agreed in a heartbeat. though you basically see hueningkai enough as it is, you haven’t seen his parents and sisters in forever.

it’s all cheerful and relaxing, getting pulled into a tight, all too familiar hug by kai’s mom when they finally arrive a few hours after you guys settled in, on about how much she missed you and playfully scolding you for not catching up with her that often. “any boyfriend yet?” she teases with a tilt to her voice.

you groan, cheeks hurting with the smile permanent on your face. “not yet aunty, still single.”

“but you’re such a pretty young lady!” Her flattery always has you feeling giddy because you know she means it every time. “stop it” you mutter, carrying her bag for her.

“you know he’s available right?” she gestures towards kai who was unloading the suitcases from the trunk. you unintentionally hone in the bead of sweat that drips down his face, the sun blazing hot shining on him. damn. you snap out of it when she speaks up again. “when you guys get married, i’m owed a thousand.”

you chuckle when he snaps his head to you guys as if his ears are trained to pick up on a conversation that had to do with marriage when it comes out of his mother’s mouth. this is such a typical interaction, always reminding you that you and kai might as well just get married already with like, five kids—you’re almost unfazed. “mom, stop!” he whines, the tips of his ears red.

“hey, this is a girl’s conversation you’re not allowed to join in.” she shoos and you almost double over in laughter at his facial expression as he immediately drops it, going in the house dragging two suitcases loaded with a duffel bag. he always pouts whenever he’s frustrated and its the funniest thing ever.

“he’s such a baby, jesus.” she sighs. “but he’s lovable.” it comes from a motherly place, but it still feels almost like she’s giving you a nudging.

he’s lovable.

but you know that. he is your best friend after all. So you laugh it off.

#######################

you feel like such a pervert. you’ve been standing here for an entire five minutes without a single movement of a muscle. but between the two of you, who was the nastier one?

the one peeking through the already halfway opened door coincidentally or the one having a pair of lace underwear pressed under their nose…while deliriously jacking off. well, okay, you’re kind of at fault for being glued to your spot and not just shutting the door for his privacy but jesus christ. kai was using an entire sex toy in a house full of family? you know the walls were pretty sound proof but your paranoia would dispel any reason for you to act on any sexual urges, so jesus christ.

was he that horny? well he looked it seeing that his legs were entirely spread on his bed. and were those his girlfriend’s panties? but his mom said he was available? so whose-

you’re scared shitless when you notice kai’s clouded, glazed over eyes firmly on you, no longer shut—your hand on the door knob shake. but once again you’re frozen in place, no matter how much your brain tells you to move, you can’t and even crazier, he doesn’t stop even when theres a flash of panic in his features getting rid of the panties pressed to his nose, no—in fact his hand almost blurs as he slides the pocket pussy up and down on his glistening cock. god, his cock. it’s pretty. holy shit it’s pretty. like every part of him, somehow he manages to make an organ that resembles a fucking overcooked hotdog look good. you feel your throat dry, because even more than it not standing weird or bending in directions, it was fucking huge.

you jolt a little when you hear creaking of stairs, immedietely entering inside hueningkai’s room and shutting the door behind you in panic. you lock it.

“fuck.” you breathe. you think you might’ve lost your mind. you really do. because in normal circumstances you would probably unintentionally cockblock him, or at least say something. anything. but you’re fucking enamored at the way his brows furrow, the way he hisses low curses, his broad chest unrhythmic as it falls up and down, heaving.

you’ve always had a hint of his size the few times you’ve caught what you assumed to be accidental boners, but you didn’t know it was this big. It’s almost intimidating. and it has you rubbing your thighs pathetically.

the squelching sounds of the terribly gracious amount of lube and what you assume to be his precum barely does the job of drowning out his pathetic mewls and whining.

all color drains from your face when he calls out to you. it almost felt like you were watching a camboy for a second there. “Y/N, fuck-fuck fuck, are you-” he chokes, the sweat making his face practically glow under the dim light of his room. “do you like this?” he pants, eyes wet and big—the most vulnerable you’ve seen them.

you find yourself dumbly nodding, like you were under some sort of spell, unable to get out words as his moan strains with a final breath, bucking his hip up with the pocket pussy firmly pressed down in his entire length. It looks straight out of a porno the way his mouth falls open, your name out of his lips sinfully once again as he tenses, orgasming.

your instinct is to immediately go to cover his mouth, because for a moment there, he was too goddamn loud! but, god was that a mistake. Because you get a closer look of the drenched panties peeking from under him and your breath hitches.

then your eyes slowly trail back to kai’s that were just completely fucked out. the sheets being covered with dried semen has you guessing that hes been going at it for hours.

was that why his texts to you to shut the bathroom lights were so weirdly full of misspellings? did he…leave the door open on purpose?

his whimper against your palm sends jolts, and your eyes widen at seeing he had his hand on his cock again, pain etched on his eyes, clearly from the overstimulation but he tugs until its growing hard in his hand again, all while holding his eyes on your face. you gulp.

this was going to be a long week.

###################

note. i love childhood best friends sub!kai like theres somethinggg about him