#its just gender exploration and soft love

[xxsunoosprincess]

Enhypen’s Favorite Positions (OT6)

How Enhypen likes to fuck you.

pairings: Enhypen legal line x reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni, fem!reader for Jay and Sunghoon, otherwise gender neutral!reader, light spanking, mentions of masturbation, overstim, and roughish sex.

Heeseung’s Favorite Position: Spooning

There is something so intimate about this position, it genuinely makes him feral. Beware anytime y’all are spooning. It doesn’t matter if it’s on the couch, the bed, hell, even during movie night with his band mates: the moment he has your ass pressed back against him he is bricked up. Maybe it’s the size difference? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that during those late nights on tour when he’s is alone in his hotel room, his mind immediately goes to wrapping his arm around your waist as he drives his cock into you from behind!! <3

Jay’s Favorite Position: Lotus

You guys never intentionally end up in this position, but more often than not, it makes its appearance in your night. Pulled into his lap, you can feel his thick cock so so deep! As soon as you throw your head back in pleasure, he’s mouthing at your tits. Sucking, biting, groping, all of the above… you can hardly fault him for the way his hips jerk up and he forces himself deeper. Boob lover Jay agenda in full force. He just loves seeing your face contort in pleasure, so this is perfect for my little romantic.

Jake’s Favorite Position: Reverse Cowgirl

Has Jake ever seen a more beautiful sight than your ass bouncing on his lap? No. Literally never. Doesn’t matter how often he sees it, he lets out a pleased sigh every time. Reclined back against the headboard, hands behind his head. This must be paradise. He loves seeing the handprints he leaves behind on your cheeks. And he’s just so loud! Moaning and whining… ugh how dreamy. He tries to be gentle, he really does, but he can only let you take charge for so long before things take their inevitable course. Rough grip on your waist as he fucks up into you, letting out those pretty moans all the while.

Sunghoon’s Favorite Position: Missionary

I am here to take down the rough dom Sunghoon agenda. This bastard is so soft for you it isn’t funny. Expect tender touches to your face, deep kissing, and some dirty praise while he bullies his cock into you. “Sweet girl takes me so well” type mfer. I’m sure of it. I really do think he is another romantic… still exploring himself and a little shy about it >_< !! He gets a little flustered when you mention try to talk about your sex life with him so be gentle… doesn’t mean he isn’t going to lay the best pipe of your life. I know this might be a controversial take but it’s MY TRUTH.

Sunoo’s Favorite Position: Mating Press

I think Sunoo is another one that is really soft and tender during sex. It’s the skin-to-skin contact, the sloppy kisses, and dry humping that screams “I want you so so bad!!” that gets his cock filling out in his pants (He has the prettiest cock ever but that’s a story for another time). That’s why I chose a mating press for him… when he is rutting into you and you wrap your legs around his waist or he has you near folded in half he has to fight cumming instantly.

Jungwon’s Favorite Position: Cowgirl

Hehehehe this made me smile. Just imagine him squirming and whimpering as you ride him. Actual art. So whiny and needy. Tells you how much he loves you over and over as he moves his hips with yours. Be gentle because he gets pussy drunk soooo easily. Mind goes blank and probably overstimulates both of you until you are both in tears. Loves when you lay on top of him as you catch your breath together, loves taking care of you. Declaring him the king of aftercare.

END.

Author’s note: Just a short lil thing to test formatting on mobile! Hope y’all enjoy. xx - princess

[xyfanficarchive]

Laios x Fat Reader HCs (reader of nonspecified gender with boobs and pussy)

18+ 😈

First of all. It's been said but. Fat is totally his type. real and factual and canon 100% i stake my life on it

i mean, he's not that superficial. Laios will fall for someone's personality and not their body. but trust, if he's walking down the street and someone attractive catches his attention so much so that all he can do is think "waow.... theyre really hot......" and stare (and he will stare, unsubtly and without shame, like, he'll turn his head as he passes you by and then trip over his own feet or walk into a lamppost or smth) then that person guaranteed has a lil more fat on their body

if youre uncomfotable with your body..... get comfortable. he's a handsy lover. he wants to touch you and feel you. and he's not shy about loving the way you squish under his hands and in his arms

its not even necessarily an erotic thing much of the time, when he feels you up and pokes and prods you (gently) all over; it's a simple pleasure to his brain to feel the warmth and weight of your breast in his open hand, to press your tummy and pinch the fat on your hips between his thumb and fingers, just to watch the supple flesh deform under his touch and bounce back into place. he'll trace up and down your stretch marks because he likes the way the skin texture feels different there, and touch the pads of his fingers to the dimples of cellulite on your butt and thighs just to feel how your skin embraces his fingertips. he can be pretty mindless about it, his hands drifting across your body as you lie together (yes, he uses you as a stim toy)

of course if you hate this kinda treatment that much, he’ll stop. he won’t torment you. but if, say, you ask him to only touch you in ways and places that dont remind you of your fatness too much, he’ll have an intuition that its because of feelings of insecurity whether you say so or not. and it makes him so so sad because all he wants is to show you how wonderful your body is to him, how delightful it is to touch you in all your softness, how the very presence of you squished up next to him is such a comfort that its all he can do to grab at you and pull you closer and closer to him in crushing embrace- there is no part of you that is so disgusting that Laios wouldnt want to explore.

on the topic of insecurity. if youre feeling bad about the way you look, whether its just a bad image day, or if you find out that you gained some weight and have to get new clothes made from the tailor, he will reassure you. but it will not be a tactful and gentle kind of reassurance, he’s not going “noooo baby but youre still so beautiful tho 🥺.” boy is so so delighted to inform you of all the reasons why its GOOD that youre fat. he has like a whole presentation prepared and he’s talking a mile a minute about how he loves that youre not afraid to eat a full days worth of nutritious meals, and how its good to put on weight to crawl the dungeon, about the energy you expend doing all that walking and fighting and the calories it takes to get revived if you die, talking about how you can go longer in the cold before succumbing to hypothermia and longer without food before youre incapacitated by hunger, how having a thick layer of fat means your vital organs are better protected from slashing and stabbing and blunt force damage alike, getting more passionate as he goes on. and by the time your eyes are glassy and ears are fuzzy from all the knowledge he imparted upon you he grabs you by the shoulders, fingers digging into your deltoids, glowering down at you with a look of such intensity that you shrink away, he finishes his rant with a deathly seriousness: “and….. it makes you really sexy, too..!”

and he does think youre so so fucking sexy; congratulations because it genuinely doesnt happen often! ususally he's too busy thinking about monsters and dungeon ecology and how to make his next incursion below more successful.... if you're reading to this point still somehow thinking that by "fat" i mean "exclusively chubby" then don't worry... i mean, yes he will drool over your cute little tummy pooch and your thick thighs, and he daydreams about sucking your full, round boobs - but he also starts sweating the first time he sees the way your breasts sag under your shift, he wants to taste your skin, he wants to leave bite marks on your back rolls, and side rolls, and he wants to dive in the folds of your belly, and when he sees your luscious pubic mound he gets dizzy and lightheaded because all the blood is going to his cock-

he'd happily die suffocating between your thighs

don't feel anxious about the way you smell around him - you don't, at least no more than anyone else after a long day of walking, but if you did, Laios is a known freak and he's totally into that. you'll never forget the first time you found this out; you were enjoying a simple embrace with him before washing up at the end of the day, your arms thrown around his neck as he leaned down and pressed his forehead into your shoulder, inhaling deep a few relaxed breaths before something changed, his body tense underneath you. you almost pulled away to ask what's wrong but - he grabbed you at the elbow and outright manhandled your arm to stop you from pulling away or pinning your arm to your side, and it's then that you realized to your utter mortefaction that he'd stuck his nose in the crook of your arm and was sniffing your armpit. you almost made a fuss asking him what the hell is he doing?!?! except for the fact that chilchuck was over in the corner organizing his pack and marcille was facing the wall combing out her hair in the mirror and neither of them have seemed to notice anything and you would never, never, never live it down from either of them if you were to draw their attention. but ultimately you couldn't help the way your heart softened to your big weirdo man when he finally pulled his face out of your pit, flushed red to his ears, his irises a thin golden ring around his wide dilated pupils, as he breathed out "I dunno why, but it smells so good..."

when he eats you out, he's literally huffing your pussy scent. he takes his time smelling you as he kisses his way down your thighs. and when he's buried in your folds, sometimes it's almost concerning and you think there's something wrong. is he starved for air, can he breathe down there??? (i did say he'd be happy to die there....) no. thats just how into it he is. one time you ask him what it smells like to him, thinking maybe his perception is significantly different, perhaps because of his hormonal profile or something, and he pauses to think for a moment before elaborating: "it smells like, musky and animalic... a little sweet, and kind of funky, like a little sour and salty almost like sweat, it's so great!" maybe not what you expected, but he only sounded more and more giddy about it as he went on.

he can tell roughly where you are in your cycle based on your smell. this comes far enough into your relationship that nothing can surprise you anymore.

he just loves watching you as he fucks you. the way the shockwave of each thrust ripples throughout your whole body, your tits jiggling back and forth with each gasp of pleasure, and the way it sounds so obscene with your wetness spread out over your plush thighs clicking when his hips make contact and when he pulls away. theres no time or space in your head to be self conscious when you're making those sweet uh uh uh uh sounds every time his cock bottoms out inside you. he loves to pull back and watch it happen, the way his shaft glistens with your slick between your pillowy lips, savouring the stroke of delicious pleasure shooting through his nerves as he glides back in, watching as his pubic bone meets your cushiony mons and the way you shake under it all, your body so completely open to him, he could hardly imagine a more erotic sight or a more beautiful person to share this part of him with

thats all i got for now hope u enjoyed <333

[nahoney22]

Hi!! Congratulations on 4,500 followers, you deserve it and SO MUCH MORE!! If you’re interested and comfortable of course, can I request from the fluff prompts “I like your eyes” and from the NFSW prompts “I wanna make love to you” and “you can be a little rougher” with Echo please? I love him and I’m so happy he made an appearance today, he deserves the sweetest and sensual things, thank you!!♥️✨

Moonlight***

🫧 Pairing: Echo X Gender Neutral Reader

word count: 1.6k

prompts:

“I like your eyes.”

“I want to make love to you.”

“You can be a little rougher.”

Summary: The flirtatious gazes and gestures finally leads to something more; but why is Echo holding back?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, Explicit Sexual Content and Language, Sex, Multiple Positions, Nervous Echo, Reassuring Reader, Dirty Talk, Praising, Light Hair Pulling, Light Rough Sex, Aftercare, Creampie, Cuddling, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Spoiler Free. NSFW under the cut.

Authors note: Cheeky asking for 3 prompts when I said you’re only allowed 2… buuuuut I’m feeling generous 😌🩶 and you didn’t specify pronouns so I defaulted to GN so I hope that’s okay?🩶

He stands before you, his breath dancing with yours as you both find refuge in a secluded corner, shielded from the prying eyes of the others. "You look so good tonight," Echo murmurs softly, his hand gently resting on your waist, pulling you closer. "It almost feels a shame to undress you."

A flush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you bite your lip, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. "Perhaps... but I sense this is something you've desired for quite some time, Sir," you whisper huskily, before claiming his lips with your own, feeling a rush of excitement as he presses you against the wall.

After the consistent exchange of flirtatious glances and the occasional suggestive remarks after months, the tension between you and Echo finally reached its boiling point. Unable to resist any longer, you whispered in his ear for him to follow you after the batch decided to have celebratory drinks at a rather upscale bar.

As you both slipped away, your hands couldn’t stay off each other. "I got us a room… do you want to do this?" you asked, your words muffled by the heat of his breath against your lips, followed by a gasp as he trailed kisses from your jaw down to your neck.

"Absolutely," he replied, his smirk obvious against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Just lead the way."

Taking his hand and ensuring the others didn't see (not that it was any of their business anyway), you led him up to the room, a mixture of excitement and a touch of anxiety coursing through you as you entered. You were both really doing this.

When the door hissed closed behind you both, you looked at each other, the realization that you were finally alone together hitting you.

Silently, he unclipped all of his armor pieces and set them aside, you doing the same with your gear, but also slipping off your shirt. Echo gazed at you, nothing but awe in his eyes.

You chuckled at his reaction and pointed to your face. "My eyes are up here, handsome."

"Well, that’s good to know because…” he smirked as he approached, a soft hand cupping your cheek as his scomp rested on your hip, “…I like your eyes."

He pulls you closer, both consumed by another fiery kiss until you tumble onto the bed with him falling on top of you, his hand exploring your chest, touching you in all the places you've fantasized about.

Shedding the remainder of your clothes and Echo's, he sits between your legs, admiring you for a moment. "I feel so lucky right now."

"As do I," you grin, your lips swollen and eyes filled with desire as you take in his form. However, when you briefly glance at his cybernetics, you notice him shift uncomfortably. He doesn't say anything, instead chuckling and focusing on his hand's work. Slipping between your legs, you gasp his name as he expertly caresses your sex with precision and tenderness.

"Mmm, do you like that, darling?" he whispers in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Do you enjoy it when I touch you there?"

"Y-yes, oh yes, Echo," you moan, your skin ablaze with desire as he swiftly brings you to climax, his words of praise and encouragement sending you soaring to cloud nine.

Your gaze drifts to his throbbing cock beside you, and you smirk as you reach out, taking it in your hand. His reaction is immediate—a gasp followed by a deep groan. "Such a beautiful cock," you purr, stroking along its length as his movements between your legs intensify.

Desiring to maintain eye contact as you pleasure him, you do struggle to keep your gaze fixed on him. Your eyelids grow heavy as the impending orgasm coils tightly within your core, causing your back to arch in response to his touch. He's biting his lip, gasping, his breaths deep and heavy as his hips grind into your soft palm.

"I want to make love to you," he breathes, and you eagerly comply with his request, releasing his cock and pulling his lips back down to yours, his member pressing against your stomach as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.

"Then love me, Echo," you pant, your voice filled with longing. "Love me."

He groans in response, taking hold of his cock as he positions himself at your entrance, teasing you with the gentle rub of his tip.

He locks eyes with you as he slowly sheathes into you, filling you gloriously. "Fuck, yes—just… just like that," you moan, sitting up on your elbows, watching as his tip disappears inside you.

As you lay back on the bed, Echo places his hand on your thigh, spreading your legs an inch wider as he begins to rut inside you, his movements slow and tender. "This is all for you, darling… all for you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter closed, savouring the sensation of his stiff cock pushing slow and deep inside you, your body tightening around his girth. But you crave more. You want him to love you passionately, yet at this moment, he's being too delicate.

"Faster, Echo, fuck me faster, baby," you moan, feeling him pick up the pace. But as you open your eyes, you see him deep in concentration.

"You can be a little rougher," you suggest, prompting him to still his movements, his cock remaining warm inside you.

Raising a brow at his concern, you reassure him, "You won't hurt me. I trust you. You can fuck me however you want."

His eyes flash with understanding, and suddenly, both of your legs are draped over one of his shoulders as he bends you almost in half, before he starts slamming down into you with increasing force, eliciting moans that scratch at your throat as he becomes more demanding.

Your hands grip at his shoulders, gasping as pleasure floods your senses, the sounds of his balls slapping against your skin reverberating around the room. "Is this rough enough for you, darling? Do you like it nice and hard?" he taunts, delivering a complete switch-up, bordering on rough yet remaining aware that he will be gentle if you ask him to be.

"Yes! Stars, yes!" you cry out in ecstasy, your legs aching from the intense position, but the pleasure is undeniably worth it.

"So perfect, feel so good around my cock. Can’t believe I waited so long to fuck you," he murmurs, his hand gripping your thigh tightly, his scomp ensuring your legs stay positioned over his shoulders. After another minute of him fucking you so good, he releases you, panting before flipping you onto your stomach.

Your face is buried in the duvet, hands gripping tight as he positions himself at your entrance again before sliding in. "O-oh, Echo!"

"That’s it, my beauty," he whispers, leaning over you to kiss between your shoulder blades. "Is this okay?"

It's more than okay. He's more than okay.

"Yes, don’t stop—don’t stop until you cum inside me, Echo," you beg, earning a sensual chuckle in return as he thrusts into you, his scomp resting on the base of your back and the other tangling in your hair, tassels of hair scrunching between his fingers as he delivers back shots like you’ve never experienced before.

With a steady pace and sharp, precise thrusts, your eyes sting from the intensity of him stretching you open and lightly tugging at your hair. "M-More."

He shifts from being on both knees to kneeling on just one, finding a better rhythm as he continues to plow into you, releasing your hair and placing his hand on your shoulder, pulling you back into him so you can meet his thrusts as he pounds you into the bed.

Stars blur your vision once again, your moans muffled by the duvet as he takes you from behind. You can feel your orgasm building again, and by his ragged breaths, you know he is too.

You're moved again, this time onto your side as he slides in behind you, keeping your leg raised in the air as his arms wrap around you, sliding into your slick hole effortlessly. Your gazes lock as he cups your jaw with his hand. "Are you close, darling? I'm—fuck—I'm not going to last much longer."

You nod feverishly, biting your lip as sweat glistens on your body. "Yes, yes, yes, please cum in me, Echo. I need you."

"I've got you," he murmurs, leaning in to tenderly kiss you, his thrusts becoming labored. "I love you so much."

Your arousal peaks at his words, and you whimper your reply into his mouth as you feel his seed fill you up and drain out of you. "I love you too, Echo."

Panting, you reach your climax, your body trembling, but he holds you close, murmuring softly in your ear. "That's it... you did so well." He kisses the side of your head as he slips out of you, the sensation lewd but a wave of tiredness washing over you.

When Echo returns from the refresher after saying he was going to get something to freshen you up, he pauses, his gaze lingering on you as you lie in bed, bathed in moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting shadows over your body.

Sensing his presence, your eyes flutter open, and you warmly smile at him. "See something you like?"

"Absolutely," he chuckles, stepping closer and handing you a cloth and towel. After you freshen up, you curl up under the duvet, Echo slipping in beside you. You nestle into his embrace, the silence between you comfortable.

But as you wince while shifting, he immediately panics. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, sweetie," you reassure him softly, kissing his cheek. "I'm just a bit tender. It's been a while," you admit sheepishly.

"Well… if you're sure," he says softly, visibly relaxing.

"I'm sure. I loved tonight. Thank you for being careful with me," you smile, and Echo can't help but plant a kiss on your hair, holding you close until the two of you fall asleep after a perfect night, at long last.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog g @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[starxanemone]

꩜ⴰ ࣪˖ FROM DUST TO DUST

michael kaiser x gender neutral!reader

you liked to see him crumble—from dust to dust.

warnings ! mdni ! sexual content — sub! brat!kaiser, dom!reader, praise kink, cock sucking, handjob, teasing and denial. also slight character exploration based on his backstory.

note — as a femdom, i am a firm and avid fan of the idea of submissive kaiser. oliver aiku is my next target. also, sorry this took a while : ( i'm busy with uni.

From dust to dust; there is nothing more beautiful than to view the evolution of things. A being grows—all supple skin and flesh and fragile bones—from a mere zygote, born from the fusion of sperm and egg.

And you think that man goes through the same cycle again and again throughout their life. From learning how to stand on one’s feet to no longer being able to do so. From seeking to finding, then to seeking again. From exalted kings to abdicated ones. All from different facets of the humans of society; they go back to their roots, ultimately. From dust to dust.

Michael Kaiser is nothing more than a mere cog born to inevitably contribute and connect with society that is just like him. Yes, by the gods, he was birthed, chosen to be an emperor, and how ethereal he truly is as he devours and rules lowly humans that grovel underneath him. No mercy was shown to anyone that attempted to overthrow his position, and not a simple glimpse was spared for those who raved on about the ‘impossible.’

He was arrogant and his mouth never knew when to stop running. But he would get what he deserves. Just like all the kings and queens, and emperors and empresses that stood before his rule.

They all fall down.

From dust to dust.

“Now, now… quiet down, liebling.” You hum, pressing your right hand tightly over his swollen pink lips. You know he loves it when you call him that, especially with the way his hard-on presses against your knee. He thrashes a little underneath you with his cheeks, ears, and exposed neck all tinted in pinkish and red hues.

You like to think that he looks like a work of art when he is like this. Not when he is in his most glorious state, but when he looks human in their rawest form. All supple skin and flesh ( you’d like to paint with your lips ) and fragile bones ( you’d like to caress ).

You pull downwards, cat-like eyes gazing intently into his half-lidded ones as you hover your face over his sweatpants. You press your cheek right against it teasingly, smiling a little in amusement when he glares down at you.

“Kitty’s got bite, hm?” You chuckle, rubbing your cheek against his crotch, feeling his cock twitch underneath the fabric as you massage his hips with your fingers.

“S-Shut up, a-ah—”

He spits out his words, though you get the feeling that it’s not as angry as he would have liked it to sound, especially with the way he holds back his moan and breathes heavily towards the end.

“Oh,” You pout mockingly. “But you wouldn’t be in this position if you weren’t being such a slut earlier. Like, seriously, making out with me in front of everyone and leaving a hickey on my neck where everyone could see? All because you were jealous of sweet little Yoichi?”

“S-Stop,” He rasps out, bringing his hands down to cup your cheeks to lift it up from his clothed cock.

You can tell that he’s irked with the way you call his rival ‘sweet.’ Your smile softens and you pull yourself up to plant your chin against his chest.

“Why are you so envious, mein schatz?” You bring your hand up, thumbing against his pink bottom lip. You watch in fascination as you press on the soft skin, nail biting onto the flesh, leaving a small crescent in its wake.

His lips part and you grin lazily, slipping your finger into his mouth to touch the wet muscle. Your eyes don’t miss the way his tongue runs over the tip of your finger, brushing over your nail before his mouth closes around it entirely.

You bring your other palm up to cup the side of his cheek as you sit up on his abdomen again. His electro-blue irises and sharp ebony pupils swallow you entirely as he sucks and licks on your finger willingly.

Oh how you loved seeing him crumble like this. All of his wits and pride dispersed with a flick of your fingers. You who have given him the feeling of something new—something so incredibly yet not supposed to be foreign for any living human. An emotion that he could only utter as a wistful wish underneath the eyes of the constellations.

Love. So this is love.

You pull your finger back, chuckling a little as he lifts his head up to chase for the sensation between his lips again before dropping his head back down upon realizing his actions. His cheeks are flushed cherry red and his brows are furrowed as if his senses had come back, and you know that he is beating himself up over the constant lapses of weakness before the gaze of someone else. But you don’t care about that.

It was never a weakness to choose to open up oneself to somebody.

You cup his cheek, firmly this time.

“Why are you always so envious? Tell me.”

But he was a stubborn one.

He keeps his lips pressed firmly, glaring up at you in a disobeying manner. It doesn’t look very intimidating with his black cotton shirt half-way lifted up on his upper body, his hair scattered around his head like a makeshift blue pearlescent crown, and the cute little wet patch marking his grey sweatpants.

“Not talking, hm? Okay, then. Fine. We’ll do it your way.” You hum in amusement before you’re snaking back down onto his hips.

In a split second, you grasp the garter of his sweatpants and pull it down, wordlessly gazing at the way his curved cock slaps at the skin below his belly button.

He hisses, “W-What are you—”

“Shut up. Don’t talk.” You murmur before dipping your head down to lick at the pinkish tip. It was already oozing with precum, bubbling and dripping down against the length of his cock, tracing a vein.

“F-Fuck—” He groans, throwing his head back against the pillows.

You pull your lips away from his cock and strike your palm against his inner thigh, leaving a red mark though not enough to cause any significant pain.

Nevertheless, he hisses, eyes widening in shock. “Why did you—”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?” Your hands smooth over the spot you had just hit before traveling north once more. When your hands reach its destination, you blink when you hear a silent whine leave his mouth.

“Please…” You hear him mumble and your gaze flickers upwards, seeing his disheveled state. Eyes half lidded with his soft lashes pointing southwards, cheeks turning a shade darker than it was previously.

His hips twitch upwards and your gaze softens.

“Okay,” You breathe out. “Okay.”

You have to admit. You cave in way too fast.

You place your hands on the sides of his bare hips, squeezing as you lick your tongue flat across the length of his cock, stopping near the tip. You keep your eyes trained on him and his gaze on yours, brows furrowed over.

You brush your tongue repeatedly against the underside of his pink tip—now all shiny underneath the fluorescent lights of your shared apartment from the mixture of precum and your saliva. His hips twitch and you immediately hold it down, digging your fingers against his skin, leaving marks on the flesh.

“P-Please,” He groans quietly, eyes closing. “Give me more, liebling. Please.”

“Hm?” You hum, tongue toying with his tip. The little crevice is soft and smooth against your touch, now all sensitive. You press your tongue against the underside of it harder before taking just the tip inside your mouth. Your fingers trace against the veins protruding the length of his cock teasingly. “But you haven’t— haven’t answered my question yet.”

You suck on his tip lightly, just enough to have his stomach and shoulders twitching, and hips buck between your hold.

“I-I want you to look at me!” He groans, body twitching when you trace your tongue with more pressure against his length repeatedly, humming a little as you listen to him speak. “I w-want you to look at me only and not that worthless, pathetic man. H-He won’t serve you half as good as I do. He can’t. I want you to love me, and me only.”

You pull away momentarily, chuckling at his uncharacteristic honesty. He whines at the sudden loss of your touch.

“Oh but I already do.” You smile, pressing your lips against the side of his stomach. “I love you, and only you.”

He doesn’t respond, simply staring down at you with pink cheeks and furrowed brows.

He never says ‘I love you' back.

But you already knew how he was. He was never used to the straightforward affection and loving words directed at him, but that never bothered you. Being with him entailed having the ability to read between the lines—it entailed being able to appreciate the little crevices and permanent folds that marred his shirt and was never able to learn how to iron. You appreciated the marks left behind by the past and the past that brought about this present—this gift—him, and only him.

And that was alright with you.

You loved him. You had the ability to build him up, make him crumble, and build him up again.

From dust to dust.

But mere dusts of cement clumped together could form a stable foundation, the same way a cluster of atoms can make up a single cell, and how multiple similar cells can form tissue.

You loved him from dust to dust.

You lick a stripe up from the base of your palm up to your fingers, keeping your eyes trained on his and his to yours and what you were doing, before encircling your fingers around the length of his cock, pumping him up and down slowly. He jolts and heaves out a breathy moan each time your hand squeezes at the right areas, up towards his shiny pink tip leaking with his fluids and down once again. Your other hand plays with his balls and you grin at the way he throws his head back, eyes rolling up.

“You must be so tired, mein schatz, but it’s okay, you can come to me. I will always be here to make you feel better.” You mewl, smiling up at him with half-lidded eyes.

“A-Ah, fuck, don’t speak like that to me, I-I’m gonna cum—” He bucks his hips helplessly, whining.

“But why?” You giggle, tilting your head innocently, “Can’t I speak like that to the person I love?”

“S-Stop, haah—” He brings his hands up to cover half of his red face, blue eyes glaring down at yours, but you don’t falter.

“My poor baby,” You pout, pumping your hand against his cock upwards and brushing your thumb against his tip. You hear him choke a little. “You’re so beautiful and you work so hard! I’m so proud of you, hm?”

“H-Haah— I-I’m gonna, gonna cum!”

"Give it to me, my love."

His hips buck against your hand a few more times before he’s shooting spurts of his cum onto your face. He moans, eyes squeezing shut.

You shut your eyes, feeling the liquid spill all over your face for a few seconds.

After a while, you open your eyes to him breathing in and out deeply, his body laying limply on the bed with sweat thinly coating every inch of his skin.

You chuckle, wiping the cum off your face and bringing your hand up to taste it.

He raises his brow as you do so and scowls. “Don’t— don’t do that. That’s dirty.”

“And I happen to be a dirty person. I don't mind." You grin, licking your hand.

He’s silent for a while before he speaks up.

“But is it true?”

“What?” You question curiously, laying right beside him flat on your back. You turn your head to look into his eyes levelly.

“That you,” He purses his lips, voice growing more silent. “Love me?”

You smile, genuinely this time.

“Of course.”

From dust to dust.

[yuff7e]

Yay! Okay so I'm gonna try this.

Could I please request Tanjiro, Inosuke, Giyu, and Sanemi with a demon male reader with:

...Damaged horns?

Bit of a backstory:

He's a kind demon with healing blood that can cure any illness and help to heal any injury. This also got him to be caught and held captive by humans and "work" in one of the local hospitals. And also because he was a demon and people hate demons.

People treated him badly, putting cuffs and chains on his feet, hands, and mainly on his horns, damaging them in the process. After some time people realized he's not bad and both sides made an arrangement...reader will have a source of food and shelter while continuing to help humans.

His horns used to be long, shiny, and just pride itself but now they look even worse than a rock by a sidewalk. Not only does it affect his self-esteem but it also causes him bad headaches.

The request:

Reader is healing slayers's small injuries until a headache strikes and our demon slayers comfort him (they know about his past and self-esteem) and show a gentle love to his horns as well. Maybe how would they show their love and care to reader and his horns differently.

Also the demon change made reader as closely tall as Gyomei, no matter the gender (if you decide to make this genderneutral).

Thank you so much for the opportunity. 🩷🩷

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒: 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒

𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

— heyy charliedakotariley!! sorry this took forever, i’ve been a bit inactive these past few days but im slowly coming back!! i hope this was what you wanted, enjoy :)

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐝

tanjiro -> inosuke -> giyuu -> sanemi

♬♪ -> lıllılı.ıllı.ılılıı

tanjiro kamado

you’re kneeling beside a wounded villager, your healing blood working its magic to close the injury. as the skin begins to knit together, you suddenly feel a sharp headache, causing your large frame to tremble.

“are you alright, [name]?” tanjiro’s voice is soft and filled with concern as he notices your distress.

“just a headache,” you manage to say, trying to brush it off, but tanjiro isn’t convinced. he’s aware of your past, the harsh treatment you endured, and how it has left its mark on you, especially your horns. without hesitation, he places a gentle hand on your shoulder and helps you to sit down.

“let me see,” he says softly. he carefully touches your horns, feeling the rough, jagged edges where they have been damaged. his touch is tender, almost reverent, as he explores the scars.

“it’s okay,” tanjiro whispers, his voice soothing. “you don’t have to be strong all the time. you’re allowed to hurt.”

his fingers trace the grooves and ridges of your horns with a delicate touch, not shying away from the damaged parts. instead, he focuses on them, showing you that he loves every part of you, including your scars and imperfections. you can’t help but feel a deep sense of comfort from his care.

you close your eyes, allowing yourself to lean into his touch. the warmth of his hands begins to ease the tension in your head, filling you with a sense of peace that you haven’t experienced in a long time. tanjiro’s presence is calming, and his compassion is healing in itself.

“thank you,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion, feeling tears of gratitude well up.

“you’re not alone,” tanjiro replies with a reassuring smile. “i’m here for you, always. no matter what.”

inosuke hashibira

inosuke barges into the room, his usual boisterous demeanor suddenly faltering when he sees you clutching your head in pain. the injured demon slayer, whom you’ve been healing, looks on with concern.

“hey, what’s wrong with you?” inosuke demands, though the worry in his voice betrays his tough exterior.

“it’s just...a headache,” you manage to say, your voice strained from the pain. inosuke’s frown deepens, and without saying another word, he stomps over and sits beside you.

“let me see,” inosuke says gruffly, his voice softer now. he reaches out to touch your horns, his touch surprisingly gentle as he traces the jagged edges. he’s heard about the mistreatment you suffered, and he knows how much it still affects you.

“they hurt, don’t they?” inosuke asks, his voice uncharacteristically calm.

you nod, unable to speak through the pain. inosuke’s rough fingers continue their gentle exploration, not flinching away from the scars. he looks at you with an intensity that softens as he continues.

“you’re strong,” inosuke says after a moment, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “stronger than anyone i know.”

the unexpected praise catches you off guard. you look up to see inosuke staring at you with fierce determination, and his sincerity is almost overwhelming.

“don’t let anyone make you feel less,” inosuke continues. “your horns, your scars, they’re part of you. and i like you the way you are. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

the sincerity in inosuke’s words brings tears to your eyes. you lean into his touch, letting the pain ebb away, feeling a new sense of acceptance and warmth from his words.

“thank you, inosuke,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion.

“yeah, yeah. just don’t forget it,” inosuke grunts, though there’s a softness in his tone.

giyuu tomioka

giyuu watches as you finish healing his wound, the cut on his arm closing seamlessly. he notices the moment you wince, your large frame jolting slightly from the pain of your headache.

“is something wrong?” giyuu asks, his voice calm and even, his eyes never leaving you.

“it’s nothing, just a headache,” you reply, though giyuu can see through your attempt to downplay it. he’s aware of your past, the mistreatment you’ve faced, and how it has left lingering effects, including the headaches. without a word, he moves closer and helps you sit down.

“let me help,” giyuu says softly. he reaches out to touch your horns, his fingers tracing the jagged edges with a tenderness that belies his usually stoic exterior. his touch is light, almost reverent, as he feels the damage.

you tense at first, but giyuu’s gentle touch quickly soothes you. the pain in your head starts to fade, replaced by a soothing warmth. giyuu’s presence is calming, and his compassion is deeply comforting.

“your horns are beautiful,” giyuu says quietly, his eyes meeting yours with genuine affection. “they show your strength, your resilience. don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. they’re a part of you, and that’s something to be proud of.”

the sincerity in giyuu’s voice brings tears to your eyes. you’ve never heard such words spoken about your horns, never felt such gentle acceptance and care. it’s a balm to your wounded spirit.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion.

giyuu simply nods, his fingers still tracing the contours of your horns. “you’re not alone. i’m here for you, no matter what.”

sanemi shinazugawa

sanemi watches as you heal the wound on his leg, the torn flesh knitting back together under your touch. he notices the moment you wince, flinching from the headache.

“what’s wrong?” sanemi asks, his voice rough but laced with concern.

“it’s just a headache,” you reply, trying to brush it off. but sanemi isn’t convinced. he knows about your past, the mistreatment you endured, and how it has left you with lingering effects, including these painful headaches. without a word, he moves closer and helps you sit down.

“let me see,” sanemi says gruffly. he reaches out to touch your horns, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he traces the jagged edges. he feels the rough, scarred surface with a careful touch, his usual harshness softened by an unspoken empathy.

“they did this to you,” sanemi says quietly, his voice filled with a mix of anger and sorrow.

you nod, unable to speak through the pain. sanemi’s touch is surprisingly tender, his rough hands moving with care and precision. his gaze is intense, but there’s a gentleness in his actions that contrasts with his usual demeanor.

“your horns are a part of you,” sanemi says after a moment, his voice softening. “they’re a sign of your strength, your resilience. don’t let anyone make you feel less. they’ve tried to hurt you, but you’ve survived. that’s something to be proud of.”

the sincerity in sanemi’s words brings tears to your eyes. you lean into his touch, letting the pain fade away, feeling a newfound sense of acceptance and understanding.

“thank you.” you whisper, your headache fading almost instantly.

sanemi simply nods, his fingers still tracing the contours of your horns. “you’re not alone. i’m here for you.”

[cera-writes]

Ehehehe Gambit! Yes hi you’ve probably already written something like this but can I have some Gambit smut with him being all like gentle and stuff? Like, a lot of praise and a lot of gentle whispering during it? And if you wouldn’t mind I’d like it to be gender neutral (afab reader is fine I don’t mind but just the pronouns and stuff)

I absolutely love your work!

A/N: Thank you! We love a soft dom Remy <3 Pairing: Remy LeBeau x gn!Reader Tags: sweet sensual sex, Dom-Remy, praise, mutual consent, adoration, body worship

"Be Gentle."

The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains of the X-Mansion, casting long shadows across the wooden floors. You were sipping a glass of wine, its contents doing little to ease your anxiety about tonight. You and Remy had already been intimate with one another a couple of times before this, but tonight would be different. You had asked him to show his softer side. You took another shaky swig of the cabernet sauvignon and set the glass down on the coffee table when you heard footsteps approaching.

Remy LeBeau, his usual swagger softened by a tender smile, approached you where you stood in the living room, seemingly waiting for him. You turned, feeling his presence as he swaggered over to you. Your eyes met his, and without a word, he extended his hand.

"Mm, don' you look like a sweet slice o' cherry pie..." he smirked, taking you in as his eyes slid over your form. Between missions and putting the sake of humanity first, there'd been little time to really give in to the sexual part of your relationship with him in quite a while. But you knew one thing, and that one thing was that you absolutely needed to be swept up in the Cajun man before you lost your own sanity.

As if sensing your anxiety, he gently beckoned you. "Come wit' Remy," his voice a low, soothing whisper that seemed to caress the air between you both. You hesitated for a moment, your nerves evident despite the established intimacy of your relationship. Remy's eyes reflected understanding and a promise of gentleness as he stepped closer, closing the distance between your bodies.

"Gambit know you asked for gentle tonight, cher," he whispered, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Let Remy show you how gentle he can be."

His words were a balm to your anxiety, and you nodded, allowing Remy to lead you up the stairs and down the quiet corridor to his bedroom. The door clicked softly shut behind you, sealing the two of you into a world of your own.

Remy turned to face you, his hands resting gently on both sides of your face. He leaned in, his lips barely touching your ear as he spoke, "You are beautiful, y'know dat? Gods, chere... every part of you is perfect." His praise was sincere, each word carefully chosen to soothe and arouse you. And Gods, was it already working. Your breath hitched in your throat, heart beating wildly as he spoke sweet words of affirmation to you.

As he pulled back slightly, his hands began a slow, deliberate journey down the your already goosebumped arms, stopping to intertwine your fingers. "Remy wanna touch every inch of you," he murmured, guiding your hands to rest upon his chest. You could feel the rapid thump of his heart beneath your palm, a tangible sign of his desire.

"Take your time chere," Remy encouraged, his voice still a whisper, yet filled with command. "Explore me."

Nodding, you allowed your hands to roam over Remy's body, guided by his gentle but firm direction. Each touch was met with a soft groan or a whispered compliment, heightening the intimacy of the moment. You bit your lip. "Remy..."

"Dat's it, cher," Remy breathed as your delicate fingertips deliberately traced the strong contours of his abdomen. "Si bon."

The room was charged with tension, thick and palpable. Remy's gaze never left the your blushed face, his eyes dark with passion yet clear with intent. He brought one of your shaking hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle with deliberate tenderness before stepping back slightly.

"Now, let Gambit see you," he requested softly, his hands reaching for the hem of the your shirt. With careful movements, he lifted it over your head, his eyes conveying nothing but reverence. "You takin' Remy's breath away," he admitted, his voice rough with emotion.

You bit your lip once more in shy reverence, too timid to meet his gaze while exposed but still, you felt safe even under Remy's intense scrutiny. He moved closer again, his hands ghosting over your skin with a featherlight touch that sent shivers down your spine. "Look at me, chere," his voice a low murmur, tilting your chin up to meet his lustful eyes. "Every part of you... jus' fascinant, "he repeated, his voice a reverential hush.

He led you slowly towards the bed, his movements unhurried and deliberate. As you sat side by side, Remy continued his gentle exploration, his hands and lips leaving trails of fire wherever they touched. "You feel so incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing against the your neck.

You gasped at the sensation, your body responding instinctively to Remy's skilled seduction as you let a soft moan escape your lips. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. "Relax, cher," he whispered, his hands moving to cup your flushed face. "Lemme take care of you."

With that, he eased you back onto the bed, following you down with a lithe grace that belied his strength. His body covered yours, not exactly pinning you down but offering a protective warmth. "Look at Remy," he demanded softly, his eyes locking with yours. "Only me."

You obeyed silently, your breathing quickening as Remy's hands and lips worked their magic. Each touch was calculated, each kiss placed with precision, building a slow, simmering heat between you both. "You're doin' so well," Remy praised, punctuating his words with gentle nips along the reader's jawline.

"Ah, Remy!..." you'd managed to breathe out, your voice a mix of need and utter surrender. This wasn't your first time with him, but Gods did he make it feel like a whole new experience when he worshipped every inch of you.

"Shh, cher," he soothed, his lips finding the yours once more. "Jus' feel."

And so you did, lost in the dance of his touch, guided by Remy's hands as he worked you into a frenzied, dazed mess.

Remy's hands roamed over your aching nether regions, his touch becoming more assertive as your passion was quickly nearing its zenith. His breath was hot against your neck as he nipped and bit the skin there, his own hardness pressed firmly and achingly against your thigh with need.

"Mon ange," he whispered, his voice thick with lust. "Tu es si belle, si parfaitement délicieuse." His fingers traced patterns on your skin, one hand playing with your chest and the other still between your legs, igniting sparks of pleasure with each stroke.

Your eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you. Remy continued, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Je veux te posséder, te sentir à moi tout entière." He dragged his lips down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Fireworks ignited behind your eyelids as you threw your head back, mouth forming the words, "Oh fuck, Remy!"

He grinned, eyes half lidded with pure lust as he reached for a condom and quickly slid it over his rock hard length. "Ready for me, chere?"

You bit your lip hard enough to nearly draw blood as he hiked one of your legs up, lining himself up with you. Once he entered you, his pace was slow at first before he settled into a comfortable rhythm between you both. You hissed in pleasure as you braced yourself on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. "Laisse-moi te baiser si bien..." he smirked, a flicker that same manner of cockiness in his voice that he usually spoke to you with, evident in his voice for a sheer second.

Remy's words became more fervent as he picked up his pace, needing to feel every bit of you. "Ouvre-toi à moi, laisse-moi t'aimer comme tu le mérites." He took one of your hands, bringing it to his lips before peppering kisses against your knuckles, his eyes boring into yours with half lust and half adoration at the sight of you under him. You were no longer trying to bite back moans as he thrusted over and over, ever so deliciously inside of you.

His hands then gripped your hips, guiding them into the rhythm that promised sweet release.

You arched into him, your body trembling with anticipation. He soothingly rubbed circles against the dip of your hip with one hand, the other still gripping your waist as he held you in that ecstacy shattering rhythm. "Dat's it, chere..." Remy's voice was a soothing balm amidst the storm of sensation. "C'est bon, mon cher. Laisse-toi aller à moi." You were flush against his skin, taking him the deepest you've ever felt him inside of you as you moaned deliciously, eyes rolling back.

With a final, urgent whisper of "Viens avec moi," Remy brought you both over the edge, your bodies entwined in a dance of pure pleasure and finally, sweet release. Your breaths mingled, heavy and ragged, as you floated back to earth, wrapped in the afterglow of passion fulfilled.

He kissed your temple before rubbing soothing circles on your back, cuddling into you as his breathing evened back out from fucking you so earth shatteringly good. "That was..." you trailed off blissfully as a yawn escaped your lips.

"Everythin' and more chere. Je vous aime."

And with that, you both eased into a blissfully pleased and fulfilled sleep.

[t4tstarrailing]

aventurine complete headcanons

divider by @/cafekitsune

contains general headcanons, relationship headcanons, and nsfw headcanons. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors, have been fighting a migraine for like the last three days.

reader uses gender neutral pronouns, however they are a male reader due to aventurine's in-game writing

general headcanons

cis gay guy that takes low dose estrogen to get his ideal body type and gender presentation. he knows it helps him, but he also does kinda look like an unhappy cat being forced to take its med when he takes it in the morning (he's just not a morning person, that's just his face tbh)

about 5'7", not at all muscular. he's got a fairly soft body, with a tummy covered in stretch marks and thighs to match. strong roman nose that looks like it's been broken in the past. his tits sit pretty and are a bit perky, but not necessarily big. sienna brown skin with peachy undertones, freckles scattered on him (mostly on his shoulders). think someone took a paint brush, dipped it in brown, and decided to use his shoulders as a canvas to try out splatter art. blonde chest hair and stomach hair that he makes sure is very well taken care of. nervous skin picker, his shoulders and back and chest are covered in acne scars from when he picked as a teen (and continues to pick as an adult).

not a morning guy, does not matter how many hours of sleep he gets and when he goes to bed. like, please do not schedule a morning meeting with him, he will not understand what's going on. this guy's breakfast is a hardboiled egg, some toast, a black coffee, some orange juice, a cigarette, his estrogen, and standing on his balcony while trying to come to terms with reality.

favorite snack consists of cherry tomatoes, crumbled feta cheese, and balsamic vinegar. literally, he's almost always got it on hand. will also eat raw sliced tomatoes until his mouth blisters from the acid.

favorite meal consists of tenderly cooked lamb, homemade flatbreads, rice, and a side of freshly sliced fruits. it's quick and easy to make, especially after a long day at work. if he's working from home, he's got a big pot of stew on the stove and some cabbage rolls cooking that he's babying at least once an hour.

no matter what he's making, however, there's always a layer of spice to his foods. type of guy to bring his homemade spice blend to the restaurant in case it's under flavored.

constantly trying out new restaurants, loves exploring the smaller joints. known to chat up locals for days just to find a list of places to check out, throwing them on a wheel to spin to let him know what he's going to be eating for the night.

when not on the job, his dress is still business casual. usually a pair of dark brown dress pants, brown dress shoes, and a pastel green short sleeve camp collared button up. if he's wanting to go out without being recognized, he'll cover up his tattoo with some concealer and slap on some dark sunglasses. useful when he wants to go try out a restaurant and not be pestered by IPC workers

days off look incredibly lazy for him, wearing only a white tank top and old boxer briefs. he might do some laundry, he might not. mostly he'll spend the day rotting in his bed, scrolling through social media or reading up on the news to shut his brain off for a bit.

preferred cologne consists of black pepper forward colognes, with hints of black tea and a sweet spice like amber. there's always a bit of spice. please dig your face into his neck to smell his cologne, he'll absolutely love it.

relationship headcanons

get ready for slow burn.... incredibly slow burn. he does not catch feelings quick and easy and, if he does, he will take a while to suss out the person he's caught feelings for. over analyzing, watching, making sure that he doesn't think that they're going to use him for his money. it's not unusual for him to spend at least year just analyzing his own feelings before jumping on them.

he's been independent his whole life, not relying on anyone, so the idea of a relationship to him is a bit of a foreign concept. he does hook ups and fwbs, but not actual serious relationships. the idea of having someone worry about him gives him anxiety, if he were to be honest, because he simply doesn't know how to handle that.

but once he starts getting silly with you and letting his guard down... oh boy, you're in it for the long run.

type of guy to pester you. if he sees you're in a bad mood or haven't eaten much throughout the day for one reason or another, he'll do some dumb shit like "here comes the astral express!" while he's shoving a spoonful of food at you. if you're lying on the couch, he'll lay his head down on your lap and poke your face. playful, gentle punching is a big thing of his, if he's trying to convince you to do something with him. "come onnnnnnnn," he'll whine while playfully hitting you, "come on, come on, come on!" of course, he knows boundaries and respects them.... but he also knows you damn well and knows you'll enjoy whatever he has in store for you.

big into physical affection. if you're sitting down for a long time, he's probably gonna join you and wrap his arm around your waist while resting his head on your shoulder. if you're reading something, he's reading with you too. if you're doing a craft, he's watching your hands and figuring out how the craft works. sometimes if he feels like he needs to show you some more affection than usual, he'll straddling your lap while you're sat down and just trace your face with his fingers, pointing out all the features he likes about you. likes to grab your face and pepper it with small kisses before settling on your lips to tease you.

if he's sat down and you're standing next to him, he's grabbing your hand and pressing kisses onto your knuckles, or holding your hand to his face. almost always the big spoon, but also likes when you lay down on top of him so he can wrap his hands around your waist.

i'm probably gonna get sent hate by the fandom for this suggestion. he doesn't spoil his partner materialistically. to him, gifts and money are to be thrown at potential work partners, people that he doesn't necessarily care about but needs to win over one way or another. and he struggles to not feel like that's what he's doing when he spends a lot of money on his partner. it takes a good 3 years of a strong relationship with his partner for him to even consider spoiling his partner materialistically because, despite him being very good at sussing out people that want to use him for his money, he is still hesitant when it comes to money.

so, instead of money, his top love language is cooking. he's insistent on cooking food for you, usually kicking you out of the kitchen until he's done bc he doesn't want you involved at all. he also likes making small handmade trinkets for you, usually something that he makes during his meetings. he's impressively crafty, able to weave and sew and knit, as well as do small amounts of wood whittling.

relationships are very downlow with him. don't expect him to be showing you off to the world for everyone to see. he's aware that he has many enemies as a stoneheart, and he isn't about to let you get hurt because of your association with him.

nsfw

vers with no true preference. will be a top, will be a bottom. does not matter to him. whatever his partner wants for the night or in their dynamic, he's more than happy to give it to them.

honestly? fairly vanilla guy. he just likes to have sex and doesn't like to make it too complicated. his kinks tend to be situational and depend entirely on the person that he's with, but for the most part he's vanilla.

oddly specific headcanon. he is very strict about condom usage, constantly carrying them around whenever he's going out for a night and thinks he might hook up with someone. he is not about to get someone pregnant or get a disease or anything. with long term partners, he's more lax about it, but he's still got a fairly big stash in his bedside nightstand.

sex with him, while vanilla, is shockingly intimate. when he's topping, he'd rather have you with your knees pushed to your chest on your back so he can press up against you, his face hovering above yours. if he's bottoming, he adores it when you fuck him from behind and wrap your arm around his neck to hold him up, arching his back. his eyelashes flutter very pretty when you moan right in his ear while fucking him. loves to ride you and have your hands on his hips, or feeling up his tits.

speaking of tits! god, his tits are so sensitive and puffy. wrap your lips around his tit, tease his nipple, play with them and he'll cum in his pants from that alone. very easy and quick way to get him teary eyed and overstimulated. will shamelessly pout if you stop teasing his nipples before he can cum.

moans real pretty and very loud. almost pornographic, to the point of them sounding fake. has most definitely woken the neighbors up before.

the only real kink he has, per se, is if he knows that someone is wanting to get with him just for his money, he gets off on the idea of fucking them but not giving them what they want. essentially, leading on people wanting him for his money is his kink. he'll fuck them, flirt with them, whatever they want from him. but he simply won't give them what they want.

call it a weird, contrived orgasm denial/edging kink with a bit of sadism.

one time he got told by one of the aforementioned people that "he was only good for his money" and discovered a mild degradation kink that night. he still thinks about him frequently, sometimes jacking off to the experience. of course, he isn't about to make his long term partners do that to him if they're not comfortable with it.

[konigbabe]

heavenly sin

Pairing: RE4!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Tags/warnings: smut (pure unfiltered filth, no plot); voice kink; p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; female masturbation; fingering; cunnilingus; established relationship; no y/n; references to Christianity and ferocity; extensive wordplay

Summary: It's been known that Leon is one kinky bastard.

A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. N is for narratophilia aka being aroused by sexual storytelling.

Tried something a little bit different to explore my knowledge of English. A wordplay of sorts (I basically threw random words together in hopes that it'd make some sense). Bon Appetit.

masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

“You enjoying yourself?” As Leon discards his gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity. “If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

It started as a joke, a fleeting spark in the sea of banter. Leon’s flirtatious nature entwined in perfect harmony with his tender heart.

Fresh out of the shower, your heart longed for the man whose sudden departures have become routine. A standard in your life.

The sun made its final descent below the horizon, the sky painted in shades of amber and gold – the bedroom awash in a warm and inviting glow, as if every object was kissed by the sun's final rays. The light filtered through the sheer curtains, creating patterns on the floor that danced like flickering flames.

And in the midst of it all, Leon's call came through, cutting through the stillness.

The conversation began innocently. Calling to let you know he’ll be home soon. It was as though his tenderness was butterfly's wings, fluttering in your chest and making your heart skip a beat.

His sincere words slowly spilt over into something else. Something more. Something promising.

It’s now that the phone lies next to your ear, and Leon's voice, like a silk ribbon, unwinds into your consciousness, stirring a deep and primal desire within you. Building the anticipation need inside you.

“After that, I’d bent you over the table. You’d already be naked and dripping,” Leon’s voice a song of Solomon, “but I’d be far from done with you.”

A gasp, soft and quiet, escapes your parted lips. Every fibre of your body, every cell is set on fire. The setting sun casting flames over your naked skin of yours. Flesh burning. Body wrapped in a cocoon of passionate flames – your palm pressing against the sensitive nub, the pressure light as a feather. Slow, languid strokes of your fingers follow Leon’s words.

Muscles tightening as the pressure keeps adding with each sentence. Slow and steady. With a pace of a gentle stream. Dipping one finger deep inside your slick walls, only to stop when you reach fully inside.

A stream of docile moans flows from your throat.

“Just to feel you take my cock. Hear those gorgeous gasps as you beg me to give it to you,” hand gripping the messed-up sheets underneath you, squeezing tight as you add another finger, curling them upwards.

“Rough, just how you like it. Pretty sure we’d break the table,” Leon’s words are accompanied by a light chuckle, hiding much more sinister and vivid ideas inside his head.

The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him cuss. Your voice carries the weight of longing, desire, and devotion. Making Leon wish to finally be home.

“Fuck. Could spend all day between those lovely legs of yours.” Leon’s voice descends to a low murmur, tinged with raw, feral hunger.

With a touch as tender as a butterfly’s wing, thumb circling the aching nub of nerves; it ignites a wildfire of ecstasy within your body. As you lightly graze your opening, feeling the softness of your slick walls, a delicate gasp escapes your mouth, akin to a prayer of submission to this moment of pure passion and pleasure.

“Just to taste that pretty pussy of yours on my tongue.”

Leon's voice pours into the phone, rich and sinful. You hear the front door open with a soft creak, the sound echoing through your body. He's finally home, his presence filling your senses with a heady aroma of musk and lust, a tantalizing potion that you can't resist.

He gazes at you with eyes like storm clouds brewing with desire. The air is thick with the scent of sex and your yearning, hanging in the dimly lit bedroom, resembling a heavy fog. You keep your gaze locked with his, transfixed as Leon strides in, his figure outlined by the glow of light seeping in from the hallway.

You don’t stop–

–instead, your fingers delve deeper. Nails grazing the tender walls, the slight discomfort only adding to the pleasure. Like a deer caught in headlines, your eyes stay on his.

The sound of your slickness echoes in the room as you thrust in and out, unconsciously matching the rhythm of Leon's steps – left in, right out, left in, right out – a dance of carnal desire.

And just like that, he stands on the side of the bed.

Leon’s eyes gleam with a fierce intensity. A perfect blend of predatory sensuality and effortless ease. With the grace of a pather; clad in a black henley shirt, the first two buttons undone, exposing the slight curve of his clavicles. It molds to his chiseled form as though it was a second skin, making Leon exude a primal magnetism that draws you closer to your high.

Spellbound by the scene in front of him – by you; fingers deep inside, eyes glazed over with orgasmic ecstasy as your work yourself to your high.

The air is thick with the sweet scent of your desire, a heady aroma that fills his senses with an overwhelming urge to indulge in your rapture.

He steps closer, placing one knee on the bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, but his gaze never leaves yours. It's as if you're the only person in the world that matters to him right now. The heat emanating from his body is palpable, and you feel your heart race as his presence commands the room.

“You enjoying yourself?”

His tone is low. A seductive purr sends a wave of electricity through your veins. Hot like molten lava. Dripping like honey, sweet and luscious. They linger in the air, coating everything around you with a sticky warmth.

His name leaves your lips in a deep sigh. Soft walls squeeze your fingers.

As he discards his fingerless gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity.

Leon’s arm flexes, the sinewy muscles bulging when put to work. Your eyes lock onto his, drinking in the raw masculinity and primal allure of his being. A contented moan escapes your lips, an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming sensuality of the moment.

“If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”

His towering form casts a shadow over you as he leans closer. Lips so close you can almost taste the desire that emanated from him. The heat of his breath dances across your skin, making your senses swirl in a dizzying haze of lust; igniting a fire that burns with the intensity of Samson's strength.

“Wanna gimme a kiss?” he whispers, his lips almost brushing against yours. You’re still able to feel the soft graze of the plump skin atop of yours, sending a fluttering sensation to your heart.

You can't help but feel intoxicated by his voice, each word rolling off his tongue with a silky smoothness that sends shivers down your spine. It's almost like he's casting a spell, using his voice as a weapon to ensnare you in his grasp. And you willingly surrender, caught in the web of his honeyed words; like Delilah, powerless to his will, swept away by the power of his seduction.

Lips grazing his, you push your face upwards to be closer. The kiss is both gentle and fierce; a tantalizing dance of lips and tongues that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The taste of him a mix of mint and spice. You stop the movement of your wrist between your legs. Stilling, feeling the wet squeeze around your fingers, your mind becomes a blank canvas, a vast expanse of nothingness.

The taste of him lingers on your tongue as he pulls away. Thick fingers wrapping around your wrist, he nudges your fingers out of you. A displeased grunt leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness. Only to have your breath stop; watching as Leon brings your hand, fingers visibly sticky with your juices, tongue swirling around the tip of your index finger before taking two of the fingers in his mouth. It’s as if he’s tasting the forbidden fruit, savoring the flavor of your arousal like the sweetest nectar.

Feeling the wet tip of his tongue swirl around your fingers, you can’t help but let out a soft moan. The rough texture brushes over the pads of your fingers. Licking every drop of you off of your fingers, leaving them clean before he licks his own lips.

“Missed that taste.”

His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense with desire as he slowly releases your hand.

“Missed you almost that much too.”

His words wash over you like a warm embrace, seeping into your pores and settling deep within your bones. As his body moves over yours, his hands glide across the burning expanse of your skin, tracing patterns of passion that leave you breathless in anticipation. The soft touch of his lips on your navel sends ripples of pleasure through your body, each sensation building on the last until you're gasping for air.

Leon sinks to his knees at the end of the bed; his movements smooth and graceful. Years of never-ending training left him in full control of every muscle. Arms sliding underneath your knees, he holds you firmly as he grips your hips with unyielding strength.

A single tug. Confident in its prosecution. He brings you to the edge of the bed, your glistening cunt hovering in front of his face. The sight of him there, between your legs, both captivating and overwhelming.

The wet tip of his tongue peaks from within his kiss-bruised lips.

Before you know it, you’re completely undone. A mess. Leon's tongue turns your body into a temple of pleasure; his movements sinuous and calculated. With each flick and swirl of his tongue, he's coaxing you to heights of ecstasy.

His tongue traces every inch of your throbbing cunt, flicking and teasing your clit as you squirm beneath him, one hand grasping his soft hair while the other squeezes your breast. His fingers, thick and rough, plunge deep inside of you, finding all the right spots to drive you wild. Each thrust of his hand sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you moan and writhe with need.

"Such a fucking filthy little thing," he growls against your skin, the heat of his breath making you shiver. He devours you with his mouth and hands, taking you to the brink of ecstasy and back again; fingers scissoring and pumping, working you over until you're a quivering mess of desire.

The blunt pressure of the tips of his fingers pressing mildly against your inner walls sending pinnacles of bliss across your body until you’re mewling at the sharp pleasure that ripples down your spine.

You claw at the sheets, unable to control the waves of sensation that crash over you.

And then, with a final, shuddering gasp, you let yourself go, your body convulsing in waves of pure pleasure. Ecstasy; Leon’s name a sweetened melody on the tip of your tongue.

He stands up afterwards, a towering figure before your eyes. Your aching legs fall from his shoulders onto the bed. Leon looms over you, appearing almost god-like, a divine being sent to ravage you with its passion.

Disposing of his shirt, you lay on the bed motionless, senses on high and in anticipation as you watch the man strip. With every article of clothing that comes off, Leon’s body reveals itself in all its glory. Shoulders and chest sculptured, shaped by years of intense training. Someone who’s worked hard to achieve such a physique. Rippling muscles that flex with every movement he makes. His arms thick with veins and biceps that bulge with raw strength, capable of holding you up effortlessly. You can see every ridge of his abs, each one chiseled to perfection.

“Enjoyin’ the view?” he rasps after ridding himself of the last article while you shamelessly stare at Leon’s sheer size and the strength of him.

“Very much,” you breathe out when he crawls on top of you.

His cock rests atop your stomach, heavy and pulsing with need; leaking as he marks you in his precum. Yet, neither of you moves. Unbothered, you remain locked in his gaze before his lips capture yours in a short passionate kiss. Drawn together by the irresistible pull of gravity, your lips meet in a collision of desire and longing.

Legs wrapping high around his waist, his hand leaves the side of your neck and travels the side of your body, igniting a trail of heat as it goes. Leon strokes the length of your thigh, only stopping when his fingers rest under your knee momentarily. Then you feel the blunt tip press against your aching cunt. The anticipation inside you unravels like a tightly wound spool, releasing a flood of sensations that spreads throughout your body.

“Ready?” he breathes out; his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against yours once again.

The silky texture of his hair brush against your fingertips. Legs tightening around his upper body, you pull him closer to you. “Yeah.”

The pressure against your throbbing cunt intensifies as Leon presses forward. The crown of his cock splits you open with ease, enveloping him. Welcoming him eagerly in your wet heat. As if he belongs there.

Leon’s touch’s electric, sending shivers down your spine as he claims you with each bite and kiss. His teeth graze your chin, softly nibbling at the skin as he lets out a guttural grunt. Keeping one hand on the side of your neck, possessive and tender, surely to feel the rapid pulse of your jugular vein, he hooks his thumb underneath your jaw and pushes upwards.

When your head is tilted upwards enough to his satisfaction, his lips latch on the front of your neck. Small, quick bites decorate the stretched skin. Followed by a wet kiss, he sucks on the skin. Vulnerable and exposed.

Moans cascade from your lips, an ode to his cock splitting you apart slowly. A divine intrusion into your depths, filling you.

He stills when he’s buried balls deep inside of you; bottoms out in your quivering walls, slick with post-orgasmic arousal.

The feeling of fullness, of being completely filled, is almost too much to bear. Your breath hitches in your throat, body trembling with pleasure as it strains to accommodate him; to make enough space to take him in.

Your eyes flatter shut as he waits, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hand cups the underside of your breast with his thumb teasing your nipple in a leisurely manner.

A moment of content falls between you. Bodies molded together; two halves of a whole.

After a few seconds, you press the sole of your feet into his skin, feeling the taunt muscle contract underneath you.

A subtle but unmistakable gesture. A wordless plea for more.

A fuck me of sorts.

Your body speaks volumes, a language he's learned to decipher. And with a low growl, he responds to your invitation. A low roll of his hips. A test of your readiness. It becomes a measured beat that tests your strength, the pressure of his cock firmly pressed against the walls of your cervix.

It has you sent into a harmonious frenzy.

Leon continues with the rhythm. Relishing in the tight squeeze of your cunt, in the way you sing for him, his name a sacred hymn on your lips. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure courses through you.

His hands sear a blazing trail on your burning flesh. Every touch feels as if he’s branding you, etching himself onto your skin.

The wetness of his lips causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. Moving like a reverent prayer. Worship of your body as his tongue swipes over your sensitive nipples.

Your name escapes his lips and is met with a low moan.

Tantalizing and peaceful.

Leon’s unhurried movements slowly transform into something more. Rough and hasty. Teeth nibbling at your jawline, feeling the bone underneath the skin, your nails bite into the tight muscle of his shoulder blades. Surely to leave indents that will bloom into bruises and marks. Your back arch, offering yourself up to him as you focus on meeting his thrusts.

As his hand wanders down the length of your body, his fingers dance along the curves of your waist and hips before grazing the globes of your ass; giving it a rough squeeze before wrapping his fingers under your knee and pulling away from your neck.

Meanwhile, his other hand braces his body weight by your face. Leon’s fingers entwine around your ankle. Pushing your leg up and over his shoulder, you moan over the painful stretch of your hamstring as he gazes at you.

He moves with a frenzied urgency. Lowering himself to rest on his elbows, his fingers find their way to your clit.

The way he flicks over the sensitive nub elicits a series of moans and cries from you only to be silenced by his lips crashing onto yours.

The kiss is wet and messy. Hungry. Both of you eager to take and dominate, his tongue dancing with yours in a frenzied manner.

It's like he's a man possessed, lost in the rhythm of his movements and the feel of your body beneath him. You writhe and moan, lost in a haze of sensation and desire as he takes you higher towards that ultimate release. That sweet orgasm. Every motion is a symphony, a perfect blend of power and finesse, as he explores the contours of your body with a deep hunger.

Mind becoming blurry, your senses are consumed by the raw, primal desire Leon elicits with his thrusts. Moving to brace himself better, it feels impossible when you feel the blunt pressure hit even deeper than before. Gasping, you move your hips, trying to take him as deep as possible.

The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, and you can hear the sound of skin slapping against the skin as Leon moves with increasing speed and intensity. His determination to tear you apart only grows each time your hips meet, sending bolts of electricity throughout your every cell. His thumb flicks over your clit, applying pressure and circling the aching bud until you’re quivering underneath the mass of a man above you. Inside you.

The sound of his grunts and moans blends into a symphony of pleasure, each note building up the tension within you. You feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption, bubbling with molten passion until it finally snaps. Erupts.

A tidal wave of pleasure washes over you. Sweeping you in a vortex of delight. A thousand stars explode in your mind, each one brighter than the last, painting your vision with vibrant colors. Your body convulses, spasming in rhythm with the waves of pleasure that ripple through you.

Gasps leave your lips. Desperate for air, you cling to Leon, whose thrusts never wavered. Whose fingers continue to tease your clit, now throbbing and exploding with sensitivity. His eyes lock on yours, lips parted with low moans escaping from between before you bring his face down to you, swallowing each cry of pleasure but eventually, he pulls away.

You watch as Leon’s eyes snap shut, brows furrowing in pleasure as he stills. His full length buried inside of your spasming cunt, filling you up with his cum.

Your body’s spent. Yet your mind’s still reeling from the sheer intensity as Leon remains buried inside; his breath ragged and uneven before he pulls out with measured slowness, teasing your oversensitive clit with a gentle tap. You shudder at the sensation of him trickling out of you.

“Hi.”

The simple word leaves your mouth in a breathless whisper. A mere welcome that was meant to be addressed when he first entered your home instead of now. A warmth spreads through your body, settling low in your belly as you take in the sight of him; the way his blond hair falls across his forehead, resembling a halo of an angel. Cheeks tinted in light pink and lips curved into a small smile as he looks at you.

“Hi.”

[hbmmaster]

I just finished watching how many Super Mario games are there NOW? and I just want to say it's incredible. it is a surprisingly interesting and complex question (it hasn't gotten any simpler since last time!), and your approach to it through a combination of statistics, linguistics, formal logic, genuine curiosity, supermariology, and humour is perfect. there are parts of the video that made me question how I approach the process of defining concepts, and parts that caught me entirely off guard and made me laugh out loud (I'm still laughing at "you wear it and it's soft", "an in-house Nintendo development studio", and jumping on paratext to remove its wings).

I love that you don't try to authoritatively answer the question itself, but rather examine what it's even trying to ask and why there isn't any single agreed-upon answer, through a mixture of serious analysis and lighthearted philosophical exploration (I'm reminded of the phrase "a process of soul-searching, comparative linguistics and playfulness" from lipu pu). and all topped off with a remix full of transitions so smooth they give me second-hand gender euphoria. it's a very jan Misali approach to a very jan Misali topic. thank you for creating this video, it's my new favourite entry in the Super Mario series.

:D

[reztoru]

──── With Love

彡 soft mornings with satoru in which he's a pest and wakes you up early to indulge himself in his favourite morning activities; doing you.

tw / cw : smut, soft gojo, he cums inside if you squint — but it’s never actually said (in fact it's never even said he nuts so fuck that guy fr) ,, gojo scars mentioned once, use of word "baby" once

pairing : gojo x reader 

gender not specified, no detailed physical descriptions of reader but their features are referred to as delicate once

a/n : i had this done weeks ago but forgot to post it. I've been so busy ahh

w/c : 2.2k

Minors dni - 18+

The air in the room felt heavy. With the sun trying to invade the expanse of your haven. Forcing you to squint to adjust to the newly lit space. Head rolling over to check the time. Five? Six? You couldn’t tell. Not with the overgrown cat sprawled on you, begging for your attention.

“too early…” you grumble.

Satoru couldn’t disagree more. He drops a hand in your line of sight, lulling your focus onto him. As he let himself lean down to nuzzle his face against yours, peppering you with kisses.

“Satoru,” you started, knowing where he was going with this, “we have work today, and I’d like to make it on time.”

He pouted, offering you his best heartbroken eyes. “Please… stay, just for a bit, I promise.”

God, if he wasn’t so pretty, and you weren’t so drowsy, you’d have kicked him out of your bed by now. You tried giving him an angry look, you really did, but those kisses he was laying on you, and his feathery touches were chipping away at your resolve.

Ultimately, you gave him a sleepy nod with a tired yes. And that’s all he needed to indulge himself in his devious morning schemes. He started with his hand travelling down your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. As he slotted his knee between your legs, giving himself support to hold his body up.

Now that you think of it, it isn’t such a bad way to start the day. With him manoeuvring around your form. As if he’s accomplished this in many past lives with you. In the same sweet early mornings, with the same conviction to serve — or maybe just to take.

Satoru gives you one last kiss on the lips, leaving a sloppy trail down your body as he makes his way to your core. Every little gasp that left you gave him a big grin.

“Needy much?” He says between kisses, nipping at your hip.

“Please, shut up.”

Thankfully, he listens; continuing to suck on your skin. His hands cupped the back of your thighs to push them up. The abruptness made you let out a little oh! as he sat up to kiss your ankle. Subsequently, he left behind a loving trail of him.

“Quite teasin’ or else I’ll kick you out of bed.” You uttered, a playful smile on your lips.

“And where’s the fun in that?” 

You roll your eyes and watch as he continues to pepper every inch of your skin with kisses. As if he needed to remind you – your body that he adored; yearned for every inch of you. So much so that he’d spend hours exploring the expanse of your essence, even if he’s done it a million times over. Finally, he reaches your core; but that doesn’t mean his teasing stops. 

His mouth brushes against you, poking his tongue out ever so slightly. But never enough or where you need him to. Honestly, you should’ve just suffocated him with your thighs; but he’d probably be more happy than anything – instead, you opt for his hair. You gave it a tug, making the man below you groan. You don’t give up, pushing his head closer to your core. Finally, he obliges, letting his tongue run alongside the length of you. 

And so, your breathy whines begin their dance around the cracks of the morning rays. The minimal glow kissed the outline of Satoru’s jaw, intertwining with his icy locks. He looked heavenly in this position – despite his awful teasing. You couldn’t help but think, he’s way prettier when he isn’t talking. With his face buried down by your hips as his tongue laps at you. You drop your head, melting into the comfort of your warm pillows. Your fingers comb through his hair, a hum vibrating into you.

This moment may be called vulnerable. Soft, and full of adoration. Pure love in which it envelops your heart in such a firm clasp, you ask yourself if it’s still working — if it’s doing you any good. Love that enters your home before you could muster out a hello or welcome. A feeling that’s been lingering long before you were aware of its presence. It’s almost scary, and uncomfortable. I suppose that’s what makes it all the more exciting.

The thrill of the unknown, what’s to come? The adrenaline that courses through your veins, anticipating what’s next. But of course, right now, you know.

You’re accustomed to the comforting warmth of him being so close. Watching as he brings himself to loom over you. You’re mindful of the pause he takes, as he looks at you for a sign to keep going. And he knows when you pull him closer, bringing his face down to yours is your silent say to continue; he knows because you’ve spent several nights like this together. And when you let out a small gasp as you feel him enter you, the sound travels into him; something that tells him you want him just as much as he wants you.

He lets himself bottom out, stilling as he presses his hips flush against yours. He allows his head to rest against yours, his breath is a little shaky. And thus he continues, slowly dragging his cock out, and plunging back in. He savours the way you feel around his length; the way you sound. Oh and the faces you make.

Satoru’s crystal orbs roll over you, drowning in the delicate features. He falls into a scarce trance, watching your movements. Mouth faintly twitching, eyes shut. Eyelashes reaching out to your cheeks, with salty tears tangling the tips. Despite this daze, he hears those silken gasps. It forces his eyes to fall to the back of his skull, offering out a groan; he leans down to hide in your neck. 

As a result, he allows himself to inhale your entirety; each sound, every movement. The way he consumes your entire being, you’d think it was almost toxic. Greedily taking more and more. His hips snapping into you harder, a little faster — letting himself get lost in staking claim to you for the nth time.

As his skin meets yours, again, and again, and again; it causes your nails to rake up his shoulders, fingers trying to find solace in his hair. And when they do, you pull his head back, allowing him to cast a gaze on you. “‘toru, ‘toru, ‘toru!” A silent chant that gripped onto his eardrums, making his eyes flicker down to your mouth. Mumbling in the same whiny tone, I know, I know. A shaky hand brings your leg to rest on his shoulder, pushing deeper into you.

And it’s then he decides, in this ashy greed, he’ll give parts of himself too. He’d offer you everything if he could. He’d give you the silky waters, to the ombre mountains. From the honeyed sky to the evening dew. He’d pick all the flowers in the world if only to make up for his hunger that eats you away.

For now, all he can offer is the soft pleasure that encases you both.

And he whispers, “a little more, yeah?”

Oh, but he knows you’ll let him indulge. If you had any sort of thoughts left and were more awake, you’d whine louder, be a little bratty. Instead, there’s only a quiet moan, more. Pawing at him, enticing him in. And how could he possibly stop when he wants it just as bad — when your eyes are filled with so much love.

With adoration for him and the way the morning light contours his silhouette. Offering him a warm glow as he moves into you, one that makes you have a sense of security. That tangy gleam caught his porcelain skin, making him appear to be burning up in a passionate hue. High cheekbones giving him a sophisticated cut; white locks that cling to the sweat on his forehead. And the subtle imperfections that grace his features, the bumps of scars whittled into him.

Bringing your hand to cup his face, focusing on him, letting your mouth take on its signature ‘o’. He thrusts into you, in a way that he’s memorized, a way that he knows will make your eyes roll. Those crystal orbs stare back, consuming one another. They left nothing to unveil behind them. Too many hours like this had passed. Moments of vulnerability, bare and raw. Traversing the depths of each other’s mind, body, and soul. Turning them inside out only for a taste of purity.

And right now, you’re a little too hazy; brimming with naught but him. He captivated all your senses. His scent and sound, all coursing through your body to your core. Oh, and the way he makes you feel so full. Each languid roll of his length pulls you closer and closer. It’s borderline unbearable how consumed you are.

Satoru, amid your haze, reaches up to grip the headboard, worsening your consumption of him. He gives a complete view of how big he really is. The sensation of being so filled with him as he bullies himself deeper into you is almost overwhelming. You try to turn away, close your eyes, something, anything to return to the pesky light of the morning star; to gain some control again, but it’s so good.

“please… don’t stop.”

Meanwhile, Satoru’s gaze wanders down your figure, taking in every curve, covered in a thin layer of sweat. The rays press on the surface of you. It mesmerizes him, how your form moves with each thrust and how the sun highlights each bounce. He’d call you divine, but the lewd sound of moans and skin meeting makes the entire scene seem sinful.

He lets his eyes dart up to your face, and you meet him there, bringing yourself to look into his solemn blues. His hands are ever-active, snaking around your back to pull you up onto his lap. He keeps you flush against him, rocking into you, faster and faster. His arm holds you tight, allowing his other hand to intertwine with yours. His lips find their place on your neck, leaving behind a trail of sugary words and dainty kisses.

“satoru”

“I know, baby. I know.”

His mouth lifts you into the clouds when his teeth graze your skin, nibbling your sweet spot. Truthfully, the bites and kisses aren’t only for your pleasure, they’re for him, too. Selfish man he is, needs this to pull him through the day — needs you to linger on him until he can savor you again. So, he’ll bite and kiss, knead and grab. It’s desperate.

You’d tease him any other time, but not right now, no. Not when you’re also being just as desperate to reach your high. As a result, you try to give yourself more stimulation, but Satoru swats you away. He isn’t entirely selfish, thus he’ll help get you there. You let your arm wrap around him, and in turn, he uses his freed hand to toy with you. Whispering quiet thank you’s, because he knows he’s a little mean for doing this so early, keeping you so late.

It’s your fault, is what he’d say. He’d tell you how it’s your fault for looking so captivating in the morning. How could he not want to ravage his stunning partner the second he wakes up? Especially when he gets rewarded with your melodic moans. You get rewarded too, of course, with a blossoming orgasm. That’s so close.

“Come with me,” he mumbles into you.

A string of yes’, and please’s fall from your lips. He keeps moving, letting his length slide into you. Paired with him playing with your most sensitive parts, it’s no surprise it doesn’t take much for you to transcend. To reach that pleasure that you’ve been yearning for this morning. That long-awaited climax; the only thing keeping Satoru safe in your warm bed.

And the intensity of electricity spreads through your veins, making your back arch. While your chest presses against him, you wonder if he can feel the way your body is burning up, or feel how your stomach tightens — or how your heart pounds against your ribs. The sensation is akin to a supernova bursting into all shades in the galaxy. It takes out any thoughts or worries in its burst. Mind going blank, and body going numb.

You pull him in for one last kiss, letting your moans slur into his mouth. It’s almost too much, how your body is a little airy and limp. But Satoru is there, and he keeps you grounded, pushing you through your orgasm. There’s most definitely a mess that’s been made, and you’re for sure going to make him clean it up, but for now, you breathe. Allowing your form to relax into him, floating into an oasis.

Gently, oh so gently, he lays you down. Watching the time sway by, falling back down to earth. You ask yourself if maybe you should just become a house spouse, with the way you’re never to work on time, anyway. Blissful pleasure turns into annoyance, and you do end up kicking him out of bed. He does clean up and buys you your favourites throughout the day. He’d insist that he loves you lots, and you’d reply with a snort.

“You’d let me sleep if you loved me.”

You know, though, it’s all with love, even if it’s mildly infuriating.

[mingirn]

only lovers alive

song mingi x reader

synopsis: you return back home after graduating college to a new relationship you have to navigate with your childhood best friend

warnings: smut, a lot of mentions of sexual acts, drinking, insecurities, jealousy, dirty talk, phone sex, sort of (very brief) exhibitionism, gender neutral reader

word count: 20,3k

notes: hello. i’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 1-2 years and saw a tweet that said ”i’d pick you up from the airport in every universe” and decided to let this out of jail bc of that. although the fic itself is inspired by this song. fic title comes from this song. i’m gonna schedule this to post while i’m asleep because i’m terrified to post after not being on here for such a long time. please be gentle with me >:(

It’s dark outside your window, but the streets are lit up by countless glimmering lights. Even though the day is turning into night, there’s still plenty of traffic. Beaming headlights join the streams of light from street lamps, and it’s just your apartment that is missing a glow from a lamp on its windowsill. You’ve got all yours packed up and sent away already, and you’re taking in the city for the last time.

”Are you going to miss it?” Mingis's voice is soft on the other end of the phone. You’ve got him on speaker, lying right next to you.

”I guess, yeah. It’s been nice, even though I haven’t spent much time exploring or enjoying the city.”

It’s true. You’ve just finished your last semester and finally graduated after moving hours away from your hometown to go to your dream school. It feels like eons since then, when you had to say tearful goodbyes to your friends and family and settle down in a cramped little dorm room. You’d been lucky enough to get student housing in your last year, a bigger place where you’d been living for the past two semesters. This city wasn’t just a stark difference to your hometown, it was the definition of complete and total opposite.

The town you grew up in was the type to hide, not really forgotten, just barely there. Small and tucked away between long stretches of forests and fields. You’d be blessed to live there your whole life, yet lucky to get away. You’d go home to visit during summer break and just bask in how simple life was back home, but beyond all, how it was still home to all the things you held most dear. Top of that list: Mingi.

”You’ll always be able to go back, maybe we can go during the summer and you can take me to that Chinese place you’ve talked so much about,” Mingi says. He’s starting to sound a little sleepy, and it’s a reminder that you should probably get to sleep soon. You’ve got an early flight to catch, then it’s just a span of a few hours separating you and Mingi. He’ll be coming to pick you up, so you suppose you better let him go too so he can get some sleep.

”You know I’d love that,” you smile, and slump down on your bed. ”I think we should head to bed though, maybe we should leave this future talk for some other time.”

He hums in agreement, and the line goes quiet for a minute. You can hear his breathing through the speaker, slow and steady. When you close your eyes it’s almost like he’s here.

”Hey, uh,” he begins, and he swallows audibly. ”Do you think it’s gonna be weird?”

Ah, there it is. You’ve almost been waiting, expecting, him to ask it.

”No, I don’t… It’s not like we haven’t seen each other since I moved away. We’ve spent almost all of the last three summers together, right?” you reason. It’s not really what Mingi is referring to, but you have to start somewhere. Soften him up, reassure him.

”Well yeah, yeah, I know. It’s just different because we weren’t doing those things then, and now it’s… well, different.”

”Mingi,” you say with firmness in your voice. ”It would only be different if you said and did all those things just because it was over the phone. If you didn’t mean any of it.”

Mingi takes another moment of silence, and you can imagine that he’s probably chewing nervously on his bottom lip. It makes you a bit nervous as well, the fact that you can’t see him. You’d always been so good at reading his face and figuring out what he was thinking. You need that more than ever now, the ability to read him, because so much has changed.

”I’ve meant every word I’ve ever said,” he says, and something about the words feels so heavy and serious, and he seems to realize it too. ”I really, really want to fuck you, not just over the phone.”

Mingis voice is normal when he says it, not a hint of underlying desire or desperation, but the words themselves send a flash of warmth through your body. It’s become regular at this point, this shift in your friendship. The first time you guys crossed over that invisible line had been under the influence of alcohol, you had come home drunk from the bar after celebrating good test results with some friends and Mingi had been celebrating getting a new job with your mutual friends back at home. It just sort of happened, you dialing his number and gushing about how much you missed him. The conversation went on for half an hour when you started trying to undress from your bar clothes and Mingi had asked what you were doing. He’d asked about what you were wearing, and what color your underwear was, then he informed you that he was just in his boxers, and for some reason you found yourself telling him about how sexually frustrated you had been lately in hopes that he’d offer help. And he did.

That first night it was quick and needy, neither of you initiated it, it just happened in perfect symbiosis. You checked the call log the day after and saw that you guys had been on the phone for hours, the last of which you had both eventually fallen asleep on call until your phone battery died. Tentatively, you had called him during the afternoon and asked him if he had any recollection of yesterday night's events. His voice had been raspy and breathy, throat raw from drinking and moaning, and you can still remember every inflection in the tone of his voice when he asked if you had liked it. That had been the start of it all, of an almost full year of phone sex, sexting, and swapping pictures.

”I’m glad to hear that,” you say, trying to sound just as casual even though you can feel butterflies swirl through your stomach. ”I really can’t wait, Mingi. Can’t wait to fuck you and can’t wait to see you, I’ve missed you so much.”

”I’ve missed you too… Get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow at the airport, just look for a handsome tall guy!”

You fall asleep with Mingis laugh ringing in your ears.

The next day, your plane lands at a far emptier airport than the one you’d set off from. It’s early in the day and the sun is high in the sky, occasionally passing behind weak and thin clouds. The air is so different out here than in the big city. The sounds are clearer, the people are kinder, and everything feels so much more simple here.

You sit on a hard airport bench and wait as your phone connects to the internet after having been turned off, seeing all your missed messages coming in. You’re just about to type up a response to Mingis ’You there?’ when a call from him pops up on the screen.

”Yeah, I’m here!” you chirp into the phone.

”’Here’ where? I’m just walking around and-”

”Mingi, you idiot, turn around!” you call out loud enough for him to hear it on the phone and in person, though he’s quite a distance away from you. You could recognize the back of his head anywhere, even though it’s short and bleached blond right now, it’s undeniably Mingi.

He spins around and spots you right away, making eye contact with you across the big, open space. Seeing Mingi in person for the first time in months washes away all nervosity, all the same as it stirs up a new sense of anticipation. You jump to your feet and you're both rushing towards each other, crashing together in a tight hug.

You find yourself closing your eyes, tucking your head into his chest, and inhaling his scent until it makes you lightheaded. He smells just like your Mingi, that same cologne he’s worn since he was 15, the same laundry detergent, and he smells faintly of sunscreen. It’s not the first time you’ve hugged him, not by a long shot, but it feels like the first time you’ve held him like this. Your arms around his middle, taking note of how big he feels in your hold, and you’re thinking about every little detail you’ve missed out on by being away from him. His warmth, his touch, his size, his voice.

”Hi there,” he murmurs, and his voice is so different up close. It’s deeper and darker, it reverberates through his chest. ”Was the flight okay?”

Something about the conversation he’s initiating makes you feel like now is the appropriate time to pull away, and that in turn has you questioning how appropriate that hug had been on your part. Mingi, however, feels cool as ice when he grabs hold of your bag and slings his arm around your shoulder to guide you out of the airport.

”Uh,” you begin, feeling a bit stumped. You continue, ”It was as good as you can expect, but the food sucked, I can’t wait to get home and eat my mom's cooking.”

”Tired of ramen and takeout?” he asks, chuckling.

”You could say that.”

You try to move on past your own weirdness. Mingi is normal and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be as well. Still, there’s a sort of buzz igniting under your skin from being in Mingi's presence again. You suppose it’s always like that, this initial excitement of seeing each other again and getting to update each other on all the things you’ve been up to while knowing you’ve got all the time in the world to hang out. But there’s this nagging voice at the back of your head that is frantically going through all the conversations you’ve had with Mingi on the phone. Late at night, underneath your covers, with Mingi moaning and speaking filth on the speaker. It doesn’t match up with the Mingi in front of you, the Mingi that has been your closest friend for years, and it makes you feel electric.

Mingi pops his trunk open and you load your bags into his car, then get inside and start the half-hour drive back to your hometown.

You only dare to steal little glances over at him. Watching him in the rearview mirror, seeing the sun set his brown eyes ablaze and paint his skin golden. His fingers strum along to the song on the radio on the steering wheel, he’s wearing a single ring on his right hand and his skin is already tanned even though summer has just begun. It’s almost like you’re meeting him all over again with the way you’re soaking in every inch of him, yet it’s forcefully clear to you that none of this is new. Perhaps that would have made it easier if he had just been a stranger where the slate was clean, but this is Mingi and there are things you’re both gonna need to navigate.

You’d foolishly expected that he’d lean in and steal at least a kiss but perhaps more right away, when you were still parked at the airport. More accurately, you had hoped so. It’s all you guys had been talking about for the past months, all the ways you’d want to ravage each other when you finally were face to face again. Apparently, Mingi thinks that can wait.

So you turn your head away, try not to look over at him or imagine his hand holding your thigh instead of the steering wheel. Instead, you focus your attention on the trees outside, and Talking Heads on the radio.

”Do you still like this song?” Mingi asks you. He takes a turn, and this is where the road gets lonesome and there’s more nature than buildings. The song playing is ’This Must be the Place’, and you know Mingi is asking because you’d been the one that bought him this CD for his birthday.

”I could never outgrow Talking Heads, you know that,” you smile at him. You’re starting to settle in now. The fields and the trees are so familiar, the air smells like your childhood, and Mingi is humming along to music you’ve listened to for years. You can do this, it’s not going to be weird, it’s still your best friend Mingi.

The ride back home starts to fill up with idle chatter. You’d think that you’d have run out of topics to talk about by now, seeing as you’d talk on the phone almost every day, but you still find new things to bring up. He parks his car in the driveway outside your house and helps you carry your luggage, all while giggling and joking with you.

It’s only been a year since you’ve been home, you hadn’t been able to come during Christmas, but that’s the longest stretch of time you’ve spent away from this very house. Not much has changed, your parents have kept your room exactly like you had left it, but something just feels different. It feels smaller, or you feel bigger. You catch a glimpse of Mingi in your doorway as you start unpacking your bags and for a second your abdomen flutters when you notice just how much of the door opening he can shield with his body. He has filled out a lot, and this shouldn’t be a surprise because you’d noticed it plenty of times before when you came home to visit. You suppose it’s not a surprise, but it’s the first time you’ve felt appreciation for it.

Of course, you had fantasized about his body since you entered his whole thing, and he had sent a lot of pictures that had helped you out with that, but seeing it in person is an entirely new ordeal. You feel your face heat up as your mind flicks through memories of pictures he’s sent you of himself naked, knowing what he looks like underneath his clothes. You have to wonder if Mingis mind is running in the same circles, if he’s as hyperaware of your skin as you are of his, and how he’s able to contain himself as well as he does if that’s the case. You hardly can’t.

”So,” Mingi begins. Your stomach lurches and plunges every time he pauses between words, fearing what may come next. Maybe this is when he breaks your heart and tells you he can’t do what you’ve been speaking about, that it’s just not the same when you’re face to face. You try to seem unbothered by your racing thoughts and decide to hear him out first. He continues, ”Uh, what now? Do you need any more help?”

”No, I’m all good, Mingi,” You’re rifling through clothes and belongings, lining them up on your bed. You can physically feel him behind you in your room as if he’s radiating this electricity and warmth that has your skin tingling.

”Maybe I should get going then. You know, to let you settle in.” You can hear him shift his weight between his feet. It suddenly feels unbearably awkward and strained between you two, and you know that if you keep your back to him it will only get worse. You need to face this head-on, cut through the tension, or at least pretend like the heavy atmosphere isn’t weighing you down.

You don’t want to let Mingi leave like this, without either one of you addressing things. If he leaves like this, with things unspoken and forgotten, the next time you see him it will be like nothing has ever happened. He’ll be right next to you but somehow further away than ever.

You guess you shouldn’t have expected to jump each other's bones the second you saw each other. Maybe that was unrealistic, but it had just felt that way on the phone. You suppose this is more natural, maybe you just have to stick it out until you’re used to being in the same room.

This Mingi in front of you is an entire world different than the one you’d grown up with. Despite the fact that everything is the same, that he’s in your childhood room and the sun is shining through the window just the same. The beam of light illuminates him directly, making his tan skin radiate.

You’re admiring him when he steps forward and closes the distance between you. Only the birds are singing outside your window, but in the total silence of your room, you can hear Mingi suck in a shaky breath before he leans forward and kisses you.

Time stills, the earth feels like it’s tilting or tipping, as if the very makeup of the universe is now irreversibly changed. Mingis mouth is warm and gentle but he’s keeping a pressure that has your mind whirling, just the way he’s kissing you with so much intent. You’re both breathing heavily and the air escaping his nose is so sweet that you can’t stop yourself from inhaling as much as possible, dizzying yourself to consume every bit of him that you can.

He’s already close, but he shuffles even nearer without breaking apart from the kiss. You can now feel his body against yours and Mingi moves his hands up to hold each side of your head, keeping you in place as he kisses and licks into your mouth. For some reason you’re so very present inside your head, thinking about each little detail of the way he kisses, reminding yourself to remember this moment forever.

You can feel when he starts to pull away so you chase after him, deepening the kiss for another second before he parts from it entirely. He’s just as breathless as you are, and there’s something in Mingi's eyes that you’ve never seen before. He focuses on your lips and leans in for another kiss that ends a moment too quickly.

Mingis hand ruffles your hair up, and his voice is laced with a laugh when he says a drawn-out ’bye’ and leaves your room.

You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can hear the blood pumping and wooshing from it all the way through your body, throughout each delicate vein in your ears. Your lips are tingling when you reach up to touch them, almost in disbelief at the fact that Mingi had just been kissing you right there. Your mouth is slick with his spit, and your finger moves cardinally to gather it up and plunge into your mouth so you can savor it.

You fall down on the bed, staring up at your ceiling, and close your eyes to relive the kiss as you imagine what it will be like the next time you see Mingi.

Almost a full week passes until you see him again. Your family practically swarms you for the first few days, your parents being overjoyed to have you back invite your grandparents to welcome you home and your favorite aunt comes to see you with your two young cousins. You get unpacked quickly enough, when you manage to find time between family visits and long drawn-out meals, and before you know it five days have passed. Mingi stays busy too though, he sends a few occasional texts about work and though he lives right across from you, you never even catch a glimpse of him.

Sometimes you lay in your bed at night and feel your heart race up at the thought that there is only a few yards of grass and asphalt road between the two of you. It’s a massive change from the last three years when you had been miles and miles apart. Now, it feels almost like you can sense him. Just across the street, breathing and shuffling in bed. You can picture him so well, long eyelashes resting against his cheekbone, his skin flushed from sleep, his long limbs tangled up in a thin blanket. Your hand slips inside your underwear with a hot fire fueled by embarrassment and insecurity burning in your stomach.

Your imagination moves between recollections of words he’s spoken and pictures he’s sent, to the image of him in his bed right now. He’s so very close, but so very unaware of how much that precise fact affects you. Each day away from him only tightens the strings in your body and you grow more frustrated that you haven’t actualized any of the promises you’d made on the phone. At the same time, you find yourself quietly thankful for the imposed distance. Mingi isn’t even here, but he still has such an impact on you that it has you rushedly getting yourself off with your face buried in your pillow to keep quiet.

You’re so deeply affected by all this, while Mingi is fine. You’re the one busy, but when Mingi comes home from work and has some downtime he doesn’t even text to see if you can spend time. Seemingly, he doesn’t care to find out when you can see each other again.

On day six you’re sitting in your garden with your mom and aunt. Your cousins are playing in the grass in front of you and calling for your attention. The sun is high and hot in the sky, and Mingis car has been home for a few hours. You’ve checked your phone multiple times to make sure it’s not on silent, or if you’ve somehow missed a text from him, but it’s been quiet all day.

Then, a car pulls up to Mingi's house. You recognize it in an instant, it’s Yunhos old Camaro that he had inherited from his dad when he got his license, the same car he’d posted a thousand pictures of on social media. He had even let you drive it for an entire block two summers ago. The paint job has sparkles of blue in it that glimmer in the sun, and you somehow feel like it’s taunting you. The front door of Mingis house opens and he emerges in a pair of short shorts and a t-shirt that he has cut the sleeves off of, and he’s got a pair of sunglasses sitting on his face. A feeling worse than rejection rushes through you when Yunho rolls down the window and waves to you, finally prompting Mingi to also notice you sitting there.

Mingi raises his hand to wave but the movement is cut shorter than Yunho's enthusiastic full-bodied gesture. Mingi gets in the car and the engine roars as Yunho drives away. The warm air feels bittersweet when it’s filled by the smell of exhaust fumes.

That night you’re lying in bed and you’re inching close to sleep when your room lights up for a second. In the haze of sleep, you assume it to be the headlights of a car, but it happens again until the stream of light persists entirely and you finally get up to look outside your window. It’s clear instantly where it’s coming from because Mingi is hanging halfway out his window with a flashlight in his hand.

Though he’s quite a distance away, you can see him well enough to tell that he’s shirtless and his hair is messy, but your focus is pulled from that to trying to decode what gesture he’s making with his hand. You shrug, and he disappears from his window for a few seconds before he pops back with his phone and starts pointing to it.

You search for your phone and open it to find 4 missed calls from Mingi. His contact picture pops up on your phone and you hurry to answer.

”What the fuck, Mingi?” you whisper into your phone.

”Were you sleeping?” he chuckles, and you can see his shoulders shake with laughter. Every little bit of this makes you want to hang up, or scream, or march right over to his house and have a go at him. How dare he go days without speaking to you, then call you up in the middle of the night and laugh as if you haven’t been in agony this past week? How dare he kiss you breathless in this very room and make no attempts at reliving it?

”No, I was just about to fall asleep!” you huff.

”Why are you whispering?” Mingi asks.

”Because my parents are asleep, dumbass.”

”Hm,” he ponders. ”So that would be a no if I asked you to sneak out and come over?”

You hope he doesn’t hear your breath hitch at the thought that he wants you to come over in the middle of the night.

”Of course, it’s a no! My mom is already peeved because of Yunho coming by earlier today. She hates how loud that car is. She’s gonna think you’re a bad influence, riding around in that and making me sneak out.”

”Imagine her reaction when she finds out you drove that car before you got your license, and I wasn’t even there. It was all Yunho,” Mingi jokes.

”Shut up! God, my mom has been warning me about him for years. She used to be convinced I was going to end up with him and it was her biggest nightmare,” you say. Your window is cracked to let in some air now that it’s cooler outside. The night is quiet, and all you can hear is Mingi breathing at the other end of the call. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can see that Mingis face is scrunched up.

”You and Yunho?” he scoffs. ”Why would she think that?”

”I don’t know, it’s not like she had any reason to. She’s just weird like that, you know how my mom is.”

It’s silent yet again, Mingi just sighing.

Your stomach does a somersault when a thought strikes you and you have to ask, ”You’re not jealous, are you?”

”Jealous? Of- of Yunho?” Mingi laughs breathlessly. You just hum, and you can’t take your eyes off of him where he’s sitting in his window. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and regains his voice, ”I have no reason to be jealous of him when I’m the one with your nudes in my phone.”

Something about that makes you curl up on yourself, suddenly feeling very shy that you’re only in your underwear and a thin old tank top. It brings up another thought that has plagued you. The pictures you’d sent were all meticulously posed and manipulated to be as appealing as possible. It had been your body, yes, but the most perfect version of it possible. Here, in your pajamas with your skin glistening from sweat, hunched over yourself, you hardly think Mingi can find any resemblance between the picture-perfect version and the one in front of his eyes.

”Oh yeah?” you murmur. You can’t let him see you falter, can’t let him call your bluff. You straighten your back and pretend to be more interested in something under your nails. ”You could have a lot more than just pictures, you know.”

Mingi lets out a noise that’s somewhere between a moan and a breath, just audible enough for his phone to pick it up.

”Fuck, look at me,” he says, and you do. You just do.

Mingi stands up, keeping his phone pressed to his ear with one hand while his free hand moves in a long, slow caressing motion down his upper body. It’s your turn to feel jealous now, stupidly jealous of Mingis own hands for getting to touch him. His fingers reach the waistband of his boxers and you nervously stop breathing as you imagine them dipping inside. His hand moves just a bit further down though, where Mingi wraps his entire palm around his dick.

”Can you see that?” he asks. He uses his hand to move his hard cock under the light material of his underwear, making sure to jut his hips out towards the moonlight so you can see every second of his show.

”I can see you, oh my god. Are you out of your mind? Mingi, what if-”

”No one’s around, no one’s gonna see except for you,” he assures you. You lick your lips, thinking back to what Mingis mouth had tasted like.

”You’re crazy,” you whisper to him.

”You make me crazy,” he says with a smirk. ”Would you lift your shirt up for me?”

Your fingers have dug into your thigh without you noticing until now that Mingi is directing attention to your body. There’s so much tension inside your body that your breathing feels labored as if there are coils fastened inside you and everything Mingi says and does tighten up every bit of your internal structure. He has you feeling lightheaded with words alone.

Sensing your hesitance, Mingi speaks again. ”You don’t have to, I just really want to see you.”

The last sentence has you moving without thinking, getting up on your knees on the seat under your window. You take a quick glance around the street and in the windows of nearby neighbors. The whole world is asleep, only you and Mingi are awake.

You use your free hand to pull your tank top as high as possible, exposing your stomach and chest to Mingi who has stopped touching himself and is keeping razor-sharp focus on you.

”You-… Thank you, you’re gorgeous, do I ever tell you that?” Mingi’s voice is low and hushed. Until now he has sounded loud and confident, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that Mingi has gotten shy. He probably didn’t expect you to follow through with his request.

You haven’t spoken in minutes and you’re not sure if you could make any noise without it coming out as a whine, but luckily Mingi speaks up once more.

”Can you get into bed? I’m gonna lay down, please join me, please, would you touch yourself with me?” Mingi pleas. He waits a second for the words to register, for you to spring into action before he does so himself. Part of you wants to stay and keep drinking in the sight of his body, but the expectations of what he’s going to have you doing has you obeying his words.

”I’m in bed now,” your voice is still hushed, and there’s a layer of excitement in it that brings on a wave of embarrassment.

”I am too, I’m gonna- I’m taking my underwear off. It’s been so long, I just need to…” Mingi trails off. His end of the call is muffled, and a little distorted, and you can hear him shuffling to get his boxers off.

”It’s been so long since what?” you ask to clarify.

”Since we last did this, since I last came…” he answers. Fuck.

”Have you not been cumming since we last had phone sex?”

Mingi quiets down for a second before he lets out a breathy laugh.

”Have you?” he asks with a tone in his voice you can’t make out, but it has your cheeks heating up and your entire body running ice cold.

You turn silent now, but it’s clear from how Mingi is laughing under his breath that he doesn’t need an answer from you to know the truth.

”Oh my god. Well, tell me then, how many times have you made yourself cum since our last call?” Mingi asks. He sounds so cocky, so full of himself that you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or shove your hand between your legs and revel in this stupidly hot version of Mingi.

”Maybe two or three times,” you mumble, hoping that he doesn’t catch it.

”Let's just pretend I believe that. What have you been thinking about?”

You whine, feeling your entire body surge with shame and humiliation. Despite all of it, you’ve bunched up your blanket between your legs and without thinking about it you’ve started rutting against it slowly.

”Mingi, please…”

”Tell me.”

”I think about you. I always do. I’ve been thinking about that kiss, and-…” Your thought is interrupted by a sound on the other end of the line, along with Mingis soft hums. ”Mingi, are you jacking off to me telling you I fantasize about you?”

”I’m jacking off to your voice,” he says so matter of fact it knocks the air out of you. He continues, ”The fact that it’s about me only makes it better.”

”Oh my god,” you sigh, closing your eyes and letting your hand move where you need it most. Mingis voice is sweet and gentle as he moans with each stroke, and his phone is so close to his mouth you’re tricked into believing he’s right next to you, breathing and huffing.

”I wish you were here right now,” he says, sort of under his breath, a little quiet. It feels a little secretive when he says it, like when you were younger and he would have you turn your back to him as he did the same. With your backs pressed together, he would tell you all his deepest secrets, and when you’d turn around again you would both pretend like nothing had happened. It’s a memory you have replayed a lot more recently than ever before, just due to how similar it feels to this arrangement you have with Mingi. As long as you aren’t faced with each other, as long as your backs are turned you can do and say whatever you want.

Instead of sulking about it, you force yourself to play along.

”I do too, I need you so bad,” you whisper, and none of it is a lie.

”Need to see you cum for me, fuck, I need you to make me cum,” he moans. It echoes through your entire head, that moan and those words, and it has you rolling onto your back and pulling your underwear down your legs so you can touch yourself properly.

”You’ll make me cum just by saying that, Mingi,” you say, pathetically so. Something about Mingi has you reaching the edge faster than anything else.

”Fuck, me too. Just hearing you say my name is enough to make me cum right now. I’ve never felt this fucking good,” Mingi groans.

”Mingi,” you let out again, out of pure instinct. ”Mingi, please give me permission to cum, I need it, please!”

He does, in a string of words and breathless moans he allows you to cum with him. Your orgasm rolls through your entire body in a blinding flash, and by the time it’s over you can’t gauge if multiple minutes or just a few seconds have passed. Your phone is pressed so tight to your ear that pearls of sweat coat the screen.

”You there?” Mingis voice is raspy, all fucked out.

You come to, clearing your throat, ”I’m here, sorry. Holy shit.”

”What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks. You don’t have time to feel overjoyed or even finish your train of thought (of oh, fuck, it’s finally happening) before Mingi continues, ”Yunho’s throwing this… thing, at his house. There’s gonna be a barbeque, we’re gonna get drinks, and he says it’s going to be chill but you know how he is. It’s gonna end up being a party by the end of the night.”

You’re staring up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers Mingi helped you set up when you were 15, and the answer is so obvious you don’t have to think about it.

”Yeah, I’ll go with you,” you respond.

”Well… I’ll take you, but maybe we shouldn’t make it too obvious when we’re there. All of our friends will be there, maybe it’s best to lay low?”

You clench your eyes shut. It makes you want to scream so loud it’d pierce your wall and travel across the street and through to his bedroom. A week ago he had been so concerned about things turning weird between you two and you’d written it off as a worry about your friendship, about how things would change after all the words and naked pictures you had exchanged. You hadn’t considered for a second that Mingi would be concerned for his reputation.

”Yeah,” you mutter. ”No, yeah, you’re right.”

”Okay then,” he says, so cheerily that you feel shame wash over you. ”I’ll pick you up tomorrow at five then?”

You hum in response and swap goodbyes before he ends the call and the beeps ring through your ear.

Your sleep that night is weighed down by a worry you can't dispel even after you wake up. You hardly feel rested, and your parent's voices barely register when they speak to you at breakfast. A lot of thoughts linger in your head, unshakeable doubts about whether things with Mingi are really going to be as okay as you had thought when you were in school.

Things had felt so much simpler then, like this steadfast belief that it would be just as it had always been. You had returned every single summer and were able to pick back up your friendship with Mingi with no trouble, despite all the months you had spent apart.

At least you would get to see all your friends again. Summer being in full swing would mean that everyone would be at their happiest, most free, possibly stupid, and risky behavior.

The day passes by sluggishly, you're merely counting down the hours. You try to read a book while lying in the sun in your backyard, but find that the words just flow together. You check your phone and see the half-hour call in your log from yesterday night, you’re just staring at Mingi's name and contact picture. It's just letters and numbers on a screen, but it's also a journal of your entire relationship. You can go back and see every single one, remember where things had started and where things had escalated. It took you weeks to send the first suggestive pictures to each other and they had been modest back then. A picture of your dark silhouette in the mirror, and Mingi replying with a blurry picture of his thighs in the dark of his room.

It's just another reminder that what you've got with Mingi is all contained in this piece of technology you can fit in your hand. Nothing is real or tangible, except for a few minutes of kissing. That's all you've got that counts as something; Mingi kissing you in your childhood bedroom for a few very good minutes before departing and ignoring you for days.

The kiss lives vividly in your head as you shower and get dressed.

You're sitting on your windowsill and watching the clock tick closer to five when the front door of Mingis house opens and he walks outside. He's got a pair of sunglasses on that he lifts off of his nose to peek up at your window, and when he spots you he waves and motions for you to come down.

You float down the stairs and out your door. The air is light and breezy outside despite the way the sun has been beaming down all day. Mingi is dressed in yet another shirt that shows off his arms, the slight tan line from his work t-shirt that he tries to even out is obvious to you up close and you squeeze his arm to tease him for it.

Both of you sit down in his car. The windows are rolled down to let air flow through and Mingi sets the car stereo to a low volume so you can faintly hear Tears for Fears play in the background. The engine hums pleasantly in comparison to Yunhos Camaro when Mingi starts the car. You watch his hands, waiting for him to shift the stick into first gear, but it doesn't happen.

Instead, time moves in both directions, very slowly but all too quickly as he wraps his hand around the back of your head and pulls you in for a kiss. Every single thought that has plagued you throughout the day vanishes the second his lips are on yours. It's replaced by the fact that these same lips had moaned your name less than 24 hours ago, that he had sounded so desperate when he told you he wished you were there.

Mingi deepens the kiss this time, letting it go on for longer than last time. When you have to part from it to take a breath Mingi trails his kisses from the corner of your mouth to under your ear. The kisses are chaste, barely there, but every single one leaves your skin tingling.

He doesn't return to your lips, he pulls back and regains his breath and his smile is so cocky when he reverses the car out of the driveway. You can't help but giggle then, and Mingi turns up the volume to let the music blare through the entire car. This is the Mingi you've missed, the one that drives through your neighborhood and ignores all the grouchy people who turn around and stare disgruntedly. He sings along too loudly, straining his voice to hit notes that sound awful even though you know that he's a great singer.

Everything feels as it always has when you pull up to Yunhos house and there are cars parked up and down the street. Mingi parks and as you're unbuckling your belt you see him look in the rearview mirror, grooming his hair and then wiping his mouth to remove your lip balm. It stings for a second but you don't let it persist. You just get out of his car and the two of you walk towards Yunhos backyard.

There is a voice in the back of your head that reminds you of the distance Mingi puts between you, this very conscious measurement that would leave no doubt for all your friends that you're strictly platonic. You push that away too, and make way towards all your old school friends instead. Seonghwa is the first to pull you into a hug, and it's all you need for the bubble to burst on all your worries.

Soon enough you're all laughing, the backyard is quickly filling with people and Yunho is having a hard time keeping up with all the people demanding a burger. The afternoon air smells just like high school, and the cheap alcohol mixed in the punch is just like the one you used to drink back then. The only difference is that everyone looks so much older, and the conversations have switched from homework, crushes, and drama to future plans and jobs.

"So what now?" Seonghwa asks you when a few hours have passed and the sun is setting. It's not getting dark, the sun is just changing from blue to lilac. You turn to him, feeling the way the alcohol has affected your vision, the way it's swimming a bit.

"What now?" you ask.

"I mean, are you back for good? Are you gonna settle down, get a job, do the whole small-town thing?" he jokes, but the question he poses is a valid one.

"Hm," you ponder for a second, looking up at the sky as if an answer is gonna rain down on you. "I guess I don't know. I need to get a job, but I'll give myself the summer to figure it out. It feels like the last one before things truly.. you know.."

"Change," Seonghwa interjects. "Before we truly grow up."

The conversation quiets for a moment before you both burst into laughter.

"Jesus, we always get so somber, don't we?" Seonghwa laughs.

"Remember prom? We went out for some air and you couldn't stop talking about the universe because you looked up at the stars for a second," you say.

"I don't remember that, I just remember Hongjoong going off on me because I teared up and ruined the makeup he spent an hour doing on me," Seonghwa recollects. You could remember that. You also remembered the eyeshadow Hongjoong had smeared across Mingis's eyelid, the messy dark brown he had lined his eyes with because Mingi refused to stay still for too long.

None of you had brought any dates that night, your entire friend group had decided to just go together and spend the night dancing with each other. When you had gotten a dance with Mingi towards the end of the night his makeup had started running and you had brushed your thumb under his eye. Nothing about that action or the dance, or the night as a whole, had been close to romantic. He had just been Mingi, the same Mingi as always, he walked you home that night with his arm around your shoulder just like he had every day after school.

It's only with the wisdom of hindsight you can identify little actions to speak otherwise. You can't recall what Sans eyes had looked like when you danced with him, but you remember in great detail how the lights had twinkled in Mingi's irises. All you remember from your dance with Wooyoung is that his hands had been too sweaty to hold, but you can go back in your memory to when Mingi had leaned his head on your shoulder and sang along softly to the song that was playing.

"What is it like when you talk to Mingi?" Seonghwa pulls you out of your thoughts. You don't know when your eyes close, but when you open them again the sky is starting to burn a vibrant pink.

"Well... I don't know. It's good. We talk about all sorts of things," you try to sound matter of fact, very casual. Reminding yourself of Mingis words, lay low.

"Yeah, you must," Seonghwa remarks, a chuckle sounding through his voice. It has you turning to him, eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

"Meaning?" you question.

"Just that there must be substance to your conversations, seeing as Mingi excuses himself from every night out when you call," he says.

"Yeah," you attempt to brush it off as a meaningless piece of information, but it feels like a lot more. You didn't know Mingi would rush home to talk to you.

Seonghwa hums, and your eyes are pulled to the ground where you've been digging your heel into the grass.

"I guess you guys have always been closer than the rest of us. Living across from each other, being childhood friends, all that," he says. There's no hidden meaning or intention behind his words, you know Seonghwa well enough to deduct that, but it still feels like he's trying to catch you out.

"Yeah," you repeat, absent-mindedly. "Suppose so."

Seonghwas mouth twitches a little as if he wants to say something else, but he keeps it shut. You're thankful, because even if he can read between the lines of your and Mingi's strange relationship, the fact that he doesn't say it out loud serves as reassurance to you. It's the same thin veil that you and Mingi drape yourselves in. Unspoken meaning unchanged.

A friend comes over and offers to top off your and Seonghwas glasses, and you decide to get up on your feet and move on from the sudden gloom that took over.

The music is loud and the air gets chillier as the clouds twist amongst pink and orange. You’re talking to Yunho and telling him the story about your mom's disapproval of his car when he notices your shoulders quiver with the drop in temperature. He fetches one of his flannels for you, helping you thread your arms through and telling you that you need another drink to warm up. Yunho makes you something stronger than the diluted punch, and it goes to your head with haste.

It does warm you up, and it pulls you from reality a little. It’s easier to laugh along with Yunhos jokes this way, without thinking about the tension between you and Mingi. It feels good and safe to just be worriless, to feel the wind in your hair and be surrounded by the sound of your friend's voices mixing together.

Your legs are getting wobblier, but Yunho catches you before you fall and he lets you stay posted against him.

You’re just watching the conversation your friends are having without joining in when you feel two hands on your waist. You don’t have to look back to know that it’s Mingi. The smell of his cologne is familiar enough to alert you.

”I think I better get them home,” Mingis voice is warm and round behind your ear. For a second you feel a little bitter, you kind of want to shake his hands off of you and scoff at him because he’s intervening just when you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself without spending a single thought on him. Is that not what he wanted? You’re keeping the secret, you’re not drawing any eyes towards you two. He’s doing that all on his own.

Had it been three years ago, you think your friends had been protesting your leave. You’re all grown up now though, and everyone is understanding when Mingi wraps his arm around your waist, and you both wave goodbye.

Mingi helps you into his car. Tears for Fears is still playing when he turns the car on and starts driving, and you feel a sort of agitation that you can’t place. He doesn’t speak a single word for a minute or two, and the mood inside the car is unbearable.

”I don’t think anyone could tell,” you say. Mingis face is bare of emotion, and you find yourself with an urge to placate him. ”We did well, don’t you think? I didn’t make anything obvious.”

You don’t know what response you expect to get from Mingi, but there’s a palpable shock within you when he pulls the car over to the side of the road and turns to you.

”What?” you ask. Mingis eyes soften when they flick over your entire body, to then end up at your face.

”Did you really.. worry about that?” Mingi wonders softly.

”Huh? I thought-… Yes, I worried about it, because you did. I mean, you told me we needed to lay low.” You’re starting to get thoroughly confused and frustrated.

”I know, but I didn’t think you’d drink so much and cuddle up to Yunho because of it,” Mingi says, his tone quickly working up to a sharpness you’ve never heard in him before.

”Drink so much?” you gasp. ”I was just having fun! It had nothing to do with you! Not everything is about you, Mingi, or about us. I don’t worry about it as much as you do. Believe it or not.”

”I don’t worry about it,” Mingi sounds accused.

”Clearly you do though. You take me to this party and give me instructions on how to behave, then spend the whole time ignoring me. Just like you did all of last week. Clearly, you have to feel ashamed, or- or…” you trail off, feeling your voice crack. Mingi sucks in a deep breath and leans closer, putting his hand on your knee.

”Please,” he urges, and there’s something in his voice that breaks your heart. ”Please, don’t think I could ever be ashamed of you.”

”Then what, Mingi?” you ask quietly, starting to feel yourself break now. Tears are starting to well up and cloud your vision. You continue, ”Do you just not want me? I get if it’s different when we’re face to face, I know it might not be what you expected, I understand if you don’t find me-”

”Stop it!” Mingi is almost shouting now, startling you. ”It’s nothing like that, you have to believe me. Stop saying these things.”

His hand lifts from your knee to hold your face where he wipes away a tear from your cheek. You don’t know what to say, even though there’s a part of you that wants to keep insisting. Mingi isn’t offering any kind of explanation or even an excuse, he’s not saying anything to quell your worries, and his hands on you are not enough.

”Kiss me. Please,” you whisper. There’s more you want to say, like prove it, prove that you want me. Kiss me and mean it.

”I’m not going to kiss you when you’re drunk and I’m sober,” Mingi says, offering up a solemn smile.

”I’m not though,” you argue. This entire conversation has been sobering. You’re still tipsy, your head feels a little heavy and your vision is still floating but you think you can blame it on your tears as much as you can blame it on alcohol.

”Well, you’re drunk enough that I don’t feel comfortable kissing you.” Mingis thumb strokes over your cheek to comfort you. It’s enough to calm you a little, because that you can take. You don’t think you’d want to kiss him either if the roles had been reversed.

”Okay,” you mutter. ”Are you sure it’s not because you don’t want me?”

Mingi sighs, ”We’ll talk about it tomorrow when you’re not-”

”I’m not drunk, Mingi.”

”Okay, okay. But I still want to do this tomorrow, when we’re both thinking clearly. We’re just misunderstanding each other, and this isn’t how I wanted it to go,” he tells you. He leans forward and kisses the top of your head instead, just above your hairline. It must be calculated on his part, to kiss you where your skin can’t feel the warmth of his lips.

”Okay,” you say again. This time Mingi lets out a little laugh at your dissatisfaction.

He starts the car back up and takes off to go home, leaving his hand on your thigh throughout the drive. When he pulls up to his house and you get out of the car your legs feel like jelly, and you realize you’re probably not as sober as you’d like to believe.

”Mingi?” you ask. He rushes to your side to hold you up, though that’s not what you meant. ”Can I sleep here tonight? You know how my mom is, she’d flip if she saw me-”

”I wasn’t planning on letting you go home like this, don’t worry,” he laughs.

So, with his arm around your waist, Mingi guides you inside and up the stairs to his room. It’s dark and you have to remind yourself to be quiet to not wake Mingi's family. While he leaves the room to fetch another blanket you sit down on his bed and look around his room.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here but not much has changed. You know for a fact that Mingi is still just as entertained by his action figures now as he had been at 13. It makes you laugh to see them all lined up on his shelf, right next to a couple of books that you had gifted him. He had forced his way through a couple of them and called you to complain about every choice the main character made.

You’re comforted by how much of his room remains the same. This is a place where you can remember and picture Mingi. By his big stereo, switching CD’s. Cutting out pictures of his friends to add to his collage wall.

Mingi comes back to his room with a blanket and a pillow that he throws next to you on the bed.

You’re watching his every move. When his eyes land on you he lets out a sound you can only read as disgust.

”Of course he gave you that,” he complains, more to himself than to you.

You can’t help but follow his line of sight though, finding that he’s looking at Yunhos flannel shirt.

”What’s so bad about it?” you wonder. Being under Mingis gaze always fills you with a sort of insecurity that has you twisting and turning.

”It's like, his move. Lending out his shirt. And then letting you lean on him like that..” Mingi mutters.

”Why would Yunho ever pull a move on me?” you ask incredulously.

”For the same reason I would, I assume,” he says. ”You’re really hot.”

A heat rushes to your abdomen and you can’t meet Mingis eyes anymore. Today has left you feeling anything but desired by him, but you don’t think he’s lying right now. He wouldn’t lie about finding you hot just minutes after refusing to kiss you.

”It wouldn’t matter what Yunho thinks of me. Like you said last night, you’re the one who has my nudes. Right?” you say.

Mingi sits down next to you, looking at his hands in his lap instead of at you.

”What if he wanted more than just your nudes?” he asks. This, too, feels like he’s asking himself the question. And you don’t know what to answer.

You don’t think Yunho poses any threat whatsoever, he’s just friendly and flirty by nature. But you let yourself think about what Mingi is implying for a second. What if he - or anyone else - would want more of you than Mingi does? Someone who could offer you a relationship that wouldn’t require secrecy. Someone who would bring you around his friends and hold your hand for everyone to see. Someone who would properly date you and want a relationship, as opposed to dirty phone sex at odd hours of the night.

You realize you’d always pick Mingi above all that, no matter if you had to have him only partially. If he was never yours.

You open your mouth to respond but shut it again when you can’t find the right words.

Mingi looks over at you. He speaks, ”Can’t you take it off?”

”Take it off of me,�� you whisper back.

His mouth twitches into a small smile.

”It’d be a lot sexier if I wasn’t taking Yunhos clothes off of you the first time I undress you,” he still sounds displeased, but his hands work the shirt off of you anyways. He discards it to the floor, as far away as it can come.

”These are all mine,” you say, meaning the clothes you have on. ”You can take those off.”

Mingi lets out a drawn-out breath, something to collect himself. His hands pause at the hem of your top even though you’ve already given consent, waiting for you to nod until he starts pulling it over your head.

Silence permeates in Mingis bedroom as he continues undressing you. It’s just the wind rustling his curtains that disrupts the quiet. He guides you to lie down so he can unbutton your shorts to take them off. His hands are so gentle and his touch is soft, when he has finished taking your socks off and all your clothes are on the floor except for your underwear he leans down and presses a sweet kiss right above your knee.

”Take yours off too, please,” you say softly. He’s not quite as delicate with himself, he doesn’t make a show of it. You can’t help but stare though, trying to really commit this to memory since it’s the very first time you’re seeing him strip for you, even if you know it won’t be followed up with all the things you’ve talked about on the phone.

Your eyes flick all over him, down his toned arms and up his torso as he pulls his shirt over his head, across his broad chest. You watch his fingers work the button on his shorts open, revealing his dark underwear. He’s not hard, at least not fully, and it’s strangely intimate to be so close to his dick for the first time but not in a sexual manner. Everything about it makes your heart feel heavy, you’re somehow aware of each pump of it, how it’s speeding up at the mere sight of Mingi.

Mingi, your Mingi, that hasn’t ever been yours. Not really, not properly, but still somehow.

You want him on top of you so bad, to finally feel him in the ways you’ve dreamt about for a full year. Instead, Mingi climbs in bed with you and pulls you close.

He is soft and warm in all the spots your bodies are connected and intertwined. You fall asleep to the sounds of his breath coming out slow and steady.

You wake to a breeze of air over your face. At first, all you can hear is the chirps of birds outside and the distant noise of cars driving around. You don’t need to open your eyes to know that it’s the middle of the day, the sun is bright in that midday way, bright enough that there isn’t a total blackness even when you screw your eyes shut further.

You just turn around and try to escape from it by burying your face into the pillow. The texture of the pillow feels strange and unfamiliar, and the more you come to you realize it also doesn’t smell like your bedding. It smells like Mingi, you realize, and shoot up in a startle.

You don’t have time to wonder why the bed is empty next to you, because you can hear steps on the stairs and seconds later the bedroom door creaks open. Through a squint you can see Mingi in the same state you remember him falling asleep. In just his underwear he walks up to the bed and sets down a glass of water and a plate, before petting his hand over your hair.

”Good morning,” he greets you, smiling big.

”Mm, yeah,” you hum back, still drowsy. It’s far more comfortable to let your eyes close again and just lean into Mingi's affection.

”You okay? Are you hungover?” Mingi asks.

”Yeah, but not from drinking,” you murmur. ”It’s from you yelling at me.”

”I wasn’t yelling!” There’s an undertone to his voice, an actual worry and fear that you’d be feeling a certain way today after last night's conversation.

”I know you weren’t, Mingi. I’m just messing with you, I remember every bit of that conversation,” you assure him. He lets out a sigh of relief, his thumb stroking over your temple.

”That was going to be my next question,” he tells you. ”So you remember the whole night then?”

You nod your head under his hand.

”Do you want to talk about it?” he asks you.

The question stabs at something inside your sternum. Of course, you want to talk, in reality, there are a thousand times you’ve held yourself back from saying to him and there would be nothing more freeing than telling Mingi all of it. There’s just never a time and place for it though and you’ve come to terms that there never will be. It would take astronomical changes to allow you to say what you want. Yes, Mingi, I’m in love with you and probably have been all my life. Mingi, it took us sexting to make me realize you’re the only one I could ever picture myself with.

You had of course let yourself fantasize a couple of times, but the details of any imaginary and hypothetical relationship between you two would quickly obscure, and Mingi was often a perpetrator in that. It would present itself on days when you lived in the afterglow of a nighttime call. You’d walk on clouds with the memories of Mingi moaning your name, then check social media and be greeted with photos of him with his arm around your lifelong friends and strangers you would get nauseous picturing Mingi talking to. Your name wouldn’t even come up in conversation, he’d appear single to them because after all, he was.

So you wouldn’t often entertain the idea of being something more. You’d just treat it as a passing thought, boil it down to what it was, a neuronal connection gone to grief.

You guess you had hoped to see something in Mingi to completely deny these thoughts. Like, a first kiss that you wouldn’t be able to break away from. Or the moment you finally have sex for the first time and it being this out-of-body experience that ends with both of you crying and confessing your love. Like a scene out of a movie.

You could even have survived the opposite. If the first kiss had gone sour and the spark died before it even ignited. At the very least, you would have an answer to all your questions. Instead of being tethered to this middle ground where there’s an undeniable passion and need for each other, but a considerable distance keeping you apart.

Though there were things you’d want to say, there are none you could verbalize.

”I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, finally. To convince Mingi of this, you open your eyes and roll onto your back so you can look at him. He looks unconvinced, so you continue, ”I think I was just confused and upset. I don’t know why. Maybe because you’ve barely spoken to me since I came back home. I had just… expected more.”

You find yourself surprised that you’re telling the truth. It’s not what you had meant to say, but it’s true and innocent enough. Mingis hand rests on the side of your face, where his fingers fiddle with your hair, and for a second his eyes focus on that, before coming back to yours.

”I don’t have any excuse,” he says. ”I guess I could say that I kept seeing your relatives show up at your house and I thought it’d be rude to whisk you away from all that just to fuck you. But I think the more time passed, the harder it got to..”

”Yeah,” you agree. ”To fuck.”

He smiles at your choice of words and nods.

”Have you not happened to notice I haven’t initiated a single kiss between us, Mingi? I’m nervous too. It’s different in real life. It was much easier on the phone to just do things,” you say.

”Would it make it easier if I told you I’d really like to kiss right now?” Mingi asks.

There won’t ever come a time when the prospect of Mingi wanting to kiss you won’t send a jolt of electricity through each and every vein in your body. Nor will there ever be an instance where you won’t act on that will, especially since it seems that there will be a finite number of them. As you prop yourself up and lean in to kiss Mingi you realize that, along with this being the very first time that you initiate a kiss with him, you’re also one kiss closer to the last kiss you’ll ever have with him.

Because there will be a last time. If you keep going like this there is no other possible outcome, there will simply come a day when Mingis's eyes set on someone else and your arrangement is concluded. There’s not an if, it’s simply a when, and every kiss from now on is going to lead up to that last one. You can’t decide if you should hold out and stave off that last one for as long as you can or fit in as many as possible until then.

All these thoughts disperse when your mouth meets Mingis and he kisses you back. It’s hard to think of anything other than his warm lips or his tongue softly licking against yours. It’s more playful this time compared to the last two, today you’re both feeling each other out and learning what to do, what feels good.

You find yourself out of rhythm at times, the position you’re in is a little awkward, and you fumble through a few kisses to lean closer to Mingi. You feel your stomach swirl when you realize that none of this deters Mingi, that you can in fact feel him smile and breathe out something between a hum and a moan every time you come crashing against his mouth. His big hand comes up to your jaw, long fingers curling around the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

Things get heady so fast with Mingi, he works you up so incredibly quickly, and it’s obvious from the sounds he’s making that he’s just as affected. He doesn’t pull away for a second, his hand keeps your head in place and he continues to clumsily kiss you as he guides you down onto the bed.

The air in Mingi's room is hot from the summer sun shining through his window. It’s not until now you realize that the only thing separating you from Mingis body has been his thin blanket. He starts peeling it away, and it’s then you remember that Mingi had undressed you the night before. A jolt of panic shoots through you now that Mingi can see you, entirely nude except for your underwear, in the warm, bright light of his room. You find comfort in the fact that he’s undressed too, but with Mingis eyes taking you in it’s hard to feel relaxed.

Mingi leans in for a long, passionate kiss, and against your mouth he muffles, ”You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Your head is swimming, Mingi keeps on kissing you, getting softer and more careful as he moves down your neck and continues to lavish you with compliments. So pretty, kiss, gorgeous, kiss, breathtaking, kiss. And if you had any doubts, he squashes every single one when he kisses from your collarbone, over your chest and down your stomach, all the way down to your hips.

He plants his hands on each of your thighs, not grabbing or putting any pressure, but you can still feel the weight of them.

”Is this okay?” he asks quietly. He kisses just above the waistband of your underwear, and at the same time, his hands nudge your legs apart. Your breath catches in your throat and you can only nod and let his hands move your legs to where he wants them.

”What about your family?” you ask him, suddenly realizing the reality of where you are.

”No one’s home. It’s just us,” he says. ”So don’t hold back on me please.”

His shoulders are big and broad between your legs. The sun illuminates him so prettily, his tan skin glows, and every little hair on his body is lit up by the sun. The heat has left a thin layer of sweat on his skin and it highlights his muscles in just the right way. He’s just glowing, near angelic, and you’re moved with the need to worship every part of him.

Mingi is still so tender with all his kisses, there’s no sense of rushing as he takes his time by really letting his lips linger. His mouth trails along your entire thigh, stopping now and then to lightly suck your skin into his mouth and have a taste of you. He only falters when he gets to the junction of your thigh, to where your skin is covered by the fabric of your underwear.

You’ve been short of breath for a while now, but when Mingis fingers dip into the waistline of your underwear you cease to breathe entirely. Your head is rushing, watching as Mingis hands pull your underwear down your legs, leaving you completely naked. You’ve sent him pictures before, he knows what every little inch of your body looks like, but Mingi looks at you as if it’s the very first time.

A thousand thoughts whirl through your head between the seconds your underwear hits the floor to when Mingi springs into action. A thousand worries now culminating, whether he’ll realize that it was better over the phone, if he’s disappointed by what he’s seeing, or if he’s repulsed by how aroused you already are.

”You’re,” Mingi begins, stopping to press a kiss at the seam of your thigh. He adds, ”Beautiful.”

His eyes aren’t even on yours, he’s single-mindedly focused on what’s right in front of him. His breath is fanning across your entire crotch, tickling your inner thighs, and as you feel it get closer and closer you instinctively close your eyes and let your head roll back when Mingi finally puts his mouth where you need it most.

He’s still so gentle, using his tongue and lips to tease you and explore what you like best. It feels like hours pass of Mingi lightly sucking and pressing wet kisses all over you, he’s really and truly taking his time and you have to believe it’s for his own sake because he’s only building up a frustration within you.

”Mingi,” you whine, reaching down to grab hold of his hair. It’s an objectively insane feeling, to have his hair in your hand and head between your legs, after all this time of dreaming of it. It’s enough to have you getting close, even though Mingi is still lapping carefully at you, and it's nowhere close enough to what you crave.

When you start bucking your hips against his mouth it’s like he releases all restrain and just goes for it. His hands wrap around your legs at first, pressing them towards his head, to then wedging underneath your ass so he can get all of you into his mouth.

Mingi moans out ”You taste so good” with a mouthful of you at the same time you tell him how good he is with his mouth, prompting him to smirk against your pelvis. It really doesn’t take long for him to learn what gets you closest to the edge, just where he should put his tongue and where to apply some pressure.

”So good, Mingi, you’re so good. Oh my god,” you sigh. You tug on his hair hard enough for your fingers to cramp, and Mingi only moans against you. Every sound you make seems to spur him on further, Mingi only getting more eager with the way he’s circling his tongue around you.

His tongue is getting you closer and closer, your stomach is splitting in two to hold onto the edge and trying not to cum. You’ve been waiting for this for so long that it feels a shame to cum just minutes after Mingis mouth is on you, but there’s no holding back. His hands grip your hips, pulling you flush to his face, and the second you lift your head to look down at him between your legs you start orgasming in his mouth.

He understands what’s happening before you do, applying enough pressure to get you over the edge before letting up and licking you slower to help you come down. All while he keeps his eyes on yours, letting your fingers scratch his scalp. Mingi listens to every little noise you make and stops the second your heavy breathing turns into an overstimulated hiss.

”Mingi, Mingi,” you whine. His cheeks are flushed a deep pink and his lips are slick with his own spit and your cum, and you can’t stop admiring him. All you can do is pray that Mingi looks into your eyes and mistakes your all-consuming love as the afterglow of a great orgasm.

He pulls himself up enough to crawl on top of you, and though he’s just spent minutes between your legs, this feels a lot more daunting. He hesitates for a moment as if he’s unsure if he’s allowed to kiss you, so you wrap your hands around the back of his head and pull him towards you.

Mingi is breathing heavily from the effort he’s just put forth, and instead of letting him catch his breath you only grow more desperate. Your hands clammer onto his shoulders, pulling him against you, then down to his waist, and finally around his ass so you can pull him against your core. He’s got his underwear on, but you don’t let it stop you as you grind up against him. He’s hard and you’re still wet with spit and cum, it doesn’t take long before you’ve soaked his boxers and the barrier between you both is practically nonexistent. You can feel every bit of him against you.

”Mingi,” you moan into his mouth. ”Fuck me, please.”

He pulls away and sucks in a deep breath.

”Don’t you want me to… uh, prepare you?” He sounds small and insecure. You watch his brows burrow and his eyes flick across your face, and you’re struck by how much he looks like Mingi. Your best friend Mingi, who you’ve built up in your head as a confident sex god, even though you’ve always been aware that he’s more careful and vary than any other person you know.

You suppose you’d just assume that that version of him would disappear in the bedroom, that he’d be the same as he is over the phone when he’s telling you all the different ways he wants to fuck you.

”I’m- I’m embarrassed to say this, but I’m so worked up you could just slide inside me,” you tell him, and Mingi moans in response.

”Are you sure?” he asks. You pick up motion again, sliding yourself against the entire length of his dick.

”I’m not just sure, I’m begging,” you plea. You hook your fingers into his boxers, trying to tug them down even though you know the position you’re in won’t allow you to undress him. You just need him to act, now, you can’t wait any longer.

It happens fast, Mingi pulling his boxers off and getting back on top of you, to then lining up his dick to enter you.

”Fuck, I forgot how big you are,” you mumble. The sight of him in comparison to you, lined up against you, is enough to make you cum untouched.

This is what you’ve been dreaming about for a whole year, this very moment. For Mingi to push inside you, hook your legs over his shoulders and fuck you until you can’t see straight. Actually being here, with the tip of his dick against your hole, it feels much different. It’s not the actual sex you’re looking forward to, it’s the fact that he’s finally going to be inside you. It feels like you’re claiming him, that the moment is finally here and he’s going to be yours.

”Are you okay? Are you ready? Can I-?” Mingi asks, searching your eyes for uncertainty.

”Please,” you nod.

He starts pushing inside, watching his dick slide with ease until he’s got the entire tip in. The stretch feels amazing, you could take all of him in one go but the fact that he stops and leans down to kiss you as he slowly thrusts his entire cock inside is way better. And god, he kisses you as if he’s not currently buried inside you. His lips barely brush against yours, and the kisses are short and sweet. Finally, he pulls back to watch himself bottom out.

The sun is shining on the side of Mingis face, and this is just not at all how you had pictured it. In your fantasies, there had always been a dark bedroom and Mingis body had been on top of yours, only distinguishable by faint lights outside the window. It was quick, rushed, and dirty, maybe Mingis hand would be clamped over your mouth to keep you from making any sounds since it would have to happen at one of your homes. Sometimes you’d imagine it happening in his car, parked somewhere secluded at night, it would be bumpy and awkward and sweaty and the focus would just be on both of you cumming as soon as possible.

You hadn’t pictured it like this. Like, Mingi looking at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

His hair is messy from your hands grabbing it, and the sunlight lights it up like a halo. Time feels unmoving, you’re drinking in the sight of him and trying to memorize every small detail.

He starts thrusting carefully and slowly. His back is upright, leaning away from you so he can watch his cock go in and out of you. You can’t stop watching him though. He’s so beautiful, his hair is a mess, and beads of sweat are starting to trickle down his chest. You reach your hands up, caressing his skin.

You wonder if you’re breaking some sort of unspoken rule. The two of you hadn’t discussed or set any boundaries, but when you slide your hands over Mingis chest and stomach, you wonder if you should have. This isn’t just fucking, you’re worshipping him and looking at him with intense adoration. He’s going so slow too, really taking his time. You’re not fucking, this is making love.

”I’ve never felt this good, you feel so good,” he moans under his breath. He curls his hands under your ass, picking you up so he can get better leverage to thrust as deep inside as possible. The new angle makes him groan, ”Fuck, you were made for me, weren’t you?”

It has you sobbing with pleasure. Mingis fingers are digging into your flesh, and he fucks you at this torturous pace for tens of minutes. You can truly feel the drag of his dick inside of you, when he bottoms out all the way inside to when the tip of his dick is at your entrance.

”You’re so good, oh my god! So good, you’re so handsome, Mingi,” you praise him, causing Mingi to pick up the speed.

You’re grabbing at his arms and shoulders, trying to pull him down, to get him closer. He lets you down on the bed and leans down, coming chest to chest with you, shoving his arm under your head instead. Your bodies are flush with each other now, Mingis pelvis rubbing against you and getting you close to cumming again stupidly quick.

His mouth is right by your ear, pressing a few sloppy kisses to your neck and temple. He is moaning your name and though his voice is hushed and strained you can still feel it reverberate through his chest, right against yours.

It’s precisely that which has you cumming, the sound of his voice calling your name over and over, telling you how good you feel. Your ears start to ring when your orgasm rolls through you and Mingi only picks up the pace to intensify it. You can faintly hear him, somewhere far away now, this otherwordly being showering you with so much affection it has tears forming in your eyes.

”You’re so perfect,” he’s telling you, fucking you faster. ”Just for me, all for me, you’re all mine.”

Somewhere through it, you realize he’s picked up the speed because he’s close too, but he wants to make it good for you before he pulls out. His eyes are on you, watching your breathing return to normal and feeling your hands unclench from his shoulders, and only when he’s certain that you’re coming down from the orgasm he leans back and pulls out. He only manages to get his hand around his cock before he cums all over your stomach, cumming so hard he shoots all the way up to your chest.

Mingis other hand is grabbing your waist and you can’t stop looking at the way he’s marked you up. There are red marks on you from the tips of his fingers, and little marks from his nails all over your hips, and you’re covered in his cum. Just seconds ago he’d told you that you’re all his, and in this moment you feel it.

”Fuck, that was…” Mingi is the first to speak. ”Shit, let me get you cleaned up.”

He scrambles for his underwear, starting to wipe his cum from your stomach.

You’ve managed to blink away the tears that welled up when you came, but there’s still a sob within your chest that you’re fighting to choke down. Everything about what just happened was about a thousand times more intense than you had ever dreamt of. Had he not pulled away you think you might have confessed to him right then and there.

”How are you feeling?” you ask him, clearing your throat and hoping Mingi reads it as just being fucked out.

”Very good,” he responds, without a hint of hesitance or a second of stalling. There’s a faint laugh in his voice, and he’s starting to smile. Nothing about him looks like you currently feel.

”Oh,” you say, struggling to find words. It’s not like you had expected him to just bare his heart and pour out confessions. You’d just expected something more to follow, after all of that. You had made love. There’s no other word for it.

Mingi leans down and kisses you once, so chaste you barely have time to kiss back.

He gets up and pulls out a pair of new boxers from his dresser, stepping in them.

”Fuck, I made you breakfast earlier and forgot all about it,” he tells you. You look over at the nightstand, where your breakfast sits forgotten.

”Oh,” you repeat. Your head drops back down on Mingis pillow. You speak again, ”I think I’d rather have a shower.”

It’s all so thoroughly strange. Mingi clasps his hand in yours and pulls you up from the bed, and you feel perturbed. You’ve seen Mingi greet Yunho with more affection than the way he helps you up on your feet. At least he joins you in the shower, but you feel weirdly disconnected from him. Even when he jokes and suds up his hair into silly hairstyles you can only manage halfhearted laughs.

Your body aches to have him closer, to feel him pressed against you and to have his lips back on yours again. The kisses he’s giving you now feel cheeky, as if he’s kissing you just because he can, and not because he truly wants to.

You suppose there’s reason to feel thankful, because at the very least Mingi hasn’t rejected you. His casualty is worth a lot more to you than the possibility that he could have pulled back and realized that everything about this was a mistake. He ruffles your hair after the shower, and it stings, but each second you continue to remind yourself that this is how things are supposed to be.

He lets you have one of his shirts after the shower, and he cooks you a very late lunch, then Mingi has to leave for work. Your legs are still unsteady when you make the walk back home to your house.

You prepare yourself to be ignored again. You busy yourself with cleaning your room, reading a book, cleaning out weeds in the garden, sending out job applications, anything you can to make the hours go by. You don’t want to check your phone, but your fingers itch to see if Mingi has texted you.

Nothing.

It’s not until late that night when you know Mingi's shift has ended that he calls you.

”Hey,” you answer, walking over to your window. Mingis car is in the driveway, but you can't see him in his room.

”Hi there,” he greets you. ”Busy day?”

”Oh you know, the usual,” you say. ”Mom wasn’t too happy with me spending the night but she was very relieved to hear it was with you.”

You’re still dressed in his t-shirt, and throughout the day you've been bringing the collar up to your nose to smell him on it. You find yourself doing it now too.

”Her head would explode if she knew what you were doing at my house this morning,” he teases you.

”Good thing no one will ever know then,” you joke, though it is the truth. It was always meant to be a secret.

”Right,” he says. ”So, do you think maybe you could come over tomorrow? My parents will be gone, I start working in the afternoon again, I was thinking maybe-”

”Yes,” you interrupt him.

Mingi laughs, ”Okay. Uh, do I sound desperate if I say that you can come over as soon as you wake up?”

”A little, but I like it,” you giggle.

”Good.”

”I’ll see you tomorrow then!”

You sleep so much better when you know that you’re seeing Mingi tomorrow. You wake up feeling completely rested, and you’re giddy as you sort out your bedhead and get dressed.

Mingis parents aren’t home, and there’s a spare key resting atop the frame of the front door that you use to let yourself into their home. It’s still early, early enough that you know that Mingi is probably fast asleep in his bed. You try to keep your steps light as you trudge up the stairs and into his room. The curtains are drawn, only letting in a stream of sunlight that lights up a sliver on his bed. The orange morning sun is casting a few inches of light on his thigh, so you let it lead you.

It’s where you first press a kiss. He smells of sleep and Mingi, you inhale the scent of his skin between kisses you trail all over his thigh and over the front of his underwear. Mingi sighs softly in his sleep, hips twitching when your lips kiss the tip of his dick through the fabric of his boxers. You’re looking up to watch his face, but when he’s still asleep as you mouth over his entire cock, you crawl up and kiss his lips.

Mingi huffs and puffs, twisting underneath you. You continue to kiss all over his sleepy, confused face. He cracks an eye open, transforming from a groggy confusion to a content smile.

”Morning,” he mumbles happily.

”Hey,” you whisper, kissing the corner of his mouth. ”Can I suck you off?”

He lets out a drawn-out moan that tapers off into a sigh, nodding fervently. His hands are weak and his fingers fumble to find purchase in your hair when you pull his underwear down his legs and take him into your mouth right away.

He sounds so lovely, all raspy and deep from his sleep. Even though he’s just come to consciousness, Mingi makes sure to tell you how good you are making him feel. He moans your name, over and over, giving you so much praise it’s making your head swim.

It doesn’t take him long to get close, so you choke out permission for him to cum in your mouth, and Mingi listens eagerly. Even as he cums he’s vocal, talking you through it and reminding you to breathe all while he praises you for how well you take it. He’s so gentle it’s making you moan as you swallow, and when you pull off his dick you scramble to get his thigh between yours.

Mingis hands guide your hips over his thigh, setting the pace for you to hump him. He keeps the praise coming, and when he feels you getting close he pulls you down for a numbing kiss. You cum on his thigh while deep in a kiss, and Mingi holds you close to his chest as you come down from it.

Somewhere in the post-orgasm haze, you both fall asleep. It’s peaceful and quiet, Mingi lulls you to sleep with the sounds of his breath and his fingers drawing patterns on your back. When you wake up again it’s in a sweat. His little bedroom is swarming with heat, so you decide on a shower, where Mingi has your chest pressed against the white tiles while he fucks you until you’re cumming a second time, this time while full of his cock. He bites down on your shoulder to keep from cumming until he knows you’re fully satisfied, and only then does he pull out and let himself cum on your ass.

When you’re pulling his shirt over your head 10 minutes later while he cooks you lunch, you catch sight of marks on your shoulder. His teeth had dug hard enough to bloom bruises on your skin, and your mind reels at the fact that he has marked you up.

Mingi has you coming over the next morning too, after you’d spent the previous night sending him pictures of the bruises his teeth left on your skin. His responses had been sporadic as he focused on work, but it didn’t stop you from going into detail about all the things you want Mingi to do to you.

It’s like all the limits have finally vanished, neither of you are held back by the fears and worries of before. It’s just like it had been before you moved back, when you only had phone calls to rely on. Back then, the comfort had come from the fact that you didn’t have to actualize all the things you spoke about. You had time to feel each other out and discuss what you want, all without having to put yourself on the line for possible failure. Now, you’ve found reassurance in the fact that you do have a physical relationship.

You know each other in your bones. You can read all the queues his body gives you, and you know what every little expression on his face means. You can sense differences in his sighs and you know what his voice sounds like when it’s getting to be too much. There’s no room for doubt when Mingi is in front of you, you just intrinsically know what he needs.

The two of you fall into a routine. When morning comes, you skip over to Mingi's house and usually he’s still asleep, tired from his shift the day before. You wake him up with kisses or gentle touches, and if he’s hard by the time you get there, Mingi loves to wake up to you already taking care of him. Some mornings you simply lay beside him, tracing his face with your finger. His hair sticks to his forehead so you brush it back, giving soft kisses to the side of his temple. Your pointer finger follows the contour of his nose and lips, feeling the warmth of his breath exit his nose.

Even though he’s asleep and unaware of your worship, you can’t bring yourself to stop. It’s in these moments you can be fully truthful with your affections. Letting your hands linger on his chest for a moment longer, focusing on his heartbeat underneath your palm. You whisper things to him you’re too afraid to say when he can hear you, just to release yourself from the need. It satiates you enough, like this airing out of your system, enough to keep you going until the next morning when you once again get overwhelmed with the sight of his sleeping form blanketed by sunlight. There is only one thing you forbid yourself from saying, three words that you vow to never let yourself speak.

A full two weeks pass of this. Every day you explore something new, things you’ve spoken about on the phone over the last year. With Mingis parents working daytime, you have full freedom to be as loud as you want. Mingi also takes full advantage of a free house. One morning he bends you over the kitchen counter while breakfast is still cooking. His mouth is always right by your ear, moaning and telling you how bad he needs you, despite fucking you upstairs in his bedroom just an hour earlier. Another day he has you ride him on the couch right before he leaves for work. You love it most when Mingi randomly decides to go down on you, whether it’s in the shower or he makes you lie down on the kitchen table. When he’s got his mouth on you he’s possessive, making sure to mark up your thighs and hips. It happens so often that he sometimes ends up darkening the hickeys he left a few days earlier.

Then Mingis schedule changes, and he has to work in the mornings. It doesn’t stop you, but it puts a damper on things as you know them. You have to meet in the afternoons instead, and with Mingi's parents home you end up sitting through long dinners with his parents, reminiscing and talking. It makes sex a little difficult, and Mingi hates the fact that you have to be quiet. He picks you up in his car a few times, but quick head while parked at the edge of the woods is a harsh contrast to the hours of sex you’d been able to have a few weeks earlier.

You’re caught by surprise one day when your phone calls and you rush to pick up only to find Yunhos voice at the other end. You’re so surprised that you pull your phone away and check the name on the screen, and sure enough it’s Yunho's contact name.

”Hey,” you reply, trying to play off the shock.

”Not happy to hear from me?” he teases.

”Shut up, you know I am!” you joke back.

He laughs in return and makes some small talk, telling you how much fun it was to see you and asking you how you’ve been.

”But, hey, uh,” he interjects. ”You ended up leaving with my shirt, is there any chance I could get it back?”

”Shit,” you curse, squeezing your eyes shut in embarrassment. ”You’re right, I totally forgot. Uh, do you want me to bring it by today?”

”That’d be perfect, thanks!”

When Yunho hangs up the phone, you chew nervously at your lip. Getting the shirt back to Yunho wouldn’t be an issue, it’s just that it’s in Mingi’s room somewhere, and asking him to locate it would probably lead to another weird moment where Mingi says something petty. You’re pacing around your room when your eyes land on his driveway and you remember that Mingi is at work. You’re just about to call Yunho and tell him today’s gonna be impossible, before the solution hits you.

Mingis mom opens the door to their home when you knock, and beams at the sight of you on their doorstep.

”Sweetheart! Hi there, Mingi is at work right now, I’m afraid,” she tells you while wrapping her arms around you for a hug. She always does this, even though you’ve been spending a lot of time over at their house recently, Mingis mother hugs you every time she sees you.

”I know, it’s just that I left something in Mingi's room that I need to get if that’s okay?”

So she lets you run up to his bedroom. You feel a little bad while rummaging through his room, but it doesn’t take you long to find Yunhos flannel shirt bunched up halfway underneath Mingis dresser. Mingis mom tries to convince you to stay for dinner, but you tell her you have to get going, and within moments you’re in your car on the way to Yunhos house.

It’s another picture-perfect day outside, the sky is a pristine blue and the wind is blowing just enough to bring some relief in this heat. Yunho is outside in his front yard, with the rear of his car jacked up.

”Hey, you!” you call, getting out of your car. ”Car trouble?”

You can tell by the fact that he has picked apart the entire wheelhouse that it’s not just something routine, but Yunho shrugs his shoulders.

”Not something I can’t fix,” he smiles. ”Dude, you’re quick. I called you, what, 30 minutes ago?”

You nod, sitting down on the tire Yunho has removed.

”Honestly, I was losing my mind at home. I’ve been doing jack shit for days now, I think I might die out of boredom,” you complain.

”Oh, so you’re saying you left the minute you got my call just because you had nothing better to do? It’s not just because you love me?” Yunho quirks an eyebrow, wiping grease from his forehead.

”Can’t it be both? And anyway, I had to go over to Mingis to get your shirt, so I didn’t leave ’the minute I got your call’,” you say, sticking out your tongue at him.

”It was at Mingi's house?” he asks.

Something comes over Yunhos face that you can’t pinpoint.

”Yeah.. I left with him during the party, and we went to his house afterward.” You hope he buys it as a reasonable enough explanation, it’s at the very least true. Just not the entire truth.

Yunho shrugs, and his eyes lose the edge they just had. He smiles, ”Leaving in one man's shirt to go to another dude's house, all in one night.. Impressive, I’ll give you that.”

”Fuck off!” you huff, kicking Yunhos shoe.

He laughs, slapping down a greasy hand on your knee to let you know that he’s just joking, even though you already know that.

”Although…” you trail off. ”Mingi did say that it’s your move.”

”Oh yeah, it is. I wasn’t expecting you to fall for it, though.” Yunhos's voice is still teasing, but not in the same way that Mingis usually is. You can tell that Yunho is just friendly, that there’s no flirting laced in his words or tone. It makes you miss Mingi.

”I don’t fall for things like that,” you retort, but quickly find your mind going to all the shirts Mingi has let you borrow these past weeks. You wear them all day, every day, even when you come back home after spending time with him. You even sleep in them, and you frequently bury your face in the collar to smell his laundry detergent. The few times he gives you a shirt he’s already worn you end up getting so worked up about it that you think you’d be getting yourself off while smelling it, if it wasn’t for the fact that Mingi now has you cumming at least twice a day.

So, perhaps you do fall for tricks like that. But only when it’s Mingi.

Yunho goes silent, and you can see that he’s chewing on the inside of his lip.

”What’s wrong?” you ask him.

His eyes flick over to yours for a second, then he looks at his hands. You’ve never seen Yunho this deep in thought outside an academic setting, and something about it is making you uneasy.

”You know,” he begins, but the words die as quickly as he says them.

”Yes?” you try again.

He pauses, looking up at you.

”You know that Mingi is my best friend,” he says. ”And I love him, I do, but sometimes he acts like an idiot. And I can’t- I just hate seeing it, you know?”

”Okay,” you mumble, only growing more confused with every word Yunho says.

”I don’t think it was right how he came here with you, then spent the whole night talking to everyone but you. But, he just gets so weird sometimes, right? And like I said, I love him, he’s my best friend, but- we just thought it would be different when you came back home. So, Wooyoung and I decided to see what would happen if I lent you my shirt, and-.. Yeah.”

”What… What are you saying?” Your voice is getting quieter. The cheery happiness from before has retired, and there’s something strange in the atmosphere now. You can’t understand what Yunho is getting at, but there’s a part of you that wonders and wishes. A part of you that can read between the lines of what Yunho is too afraid to say out loud.

”It’s not my place to say,” Yunho says, looking everywhere but your eyes.

”At least tell me what you intended to do with this shirt.” It’s still in your hands, his flannel, and your fingers are tightening around it.

”We just figured that maybe he needed a push,” he tells you, sounding so sheepish.

”You wanted him to get jealous?” you finally say it out loud. Yunho doesn’t meet your eyes, but it’s a clear enough answer. So you ask, ”What do you know about me and Mingi?”

”In all honesty? I don’t know anything. And it used to hurt me because Mingi is my best friend and I’ve known him since we were kids. But that’s what clued me in because I know for a fact that he would have told me if you were dating,” Yunho says. You’re holding your breath while listening to him. He continues, ”I, uh, I accidentally saw the preview of a text you sent him once. Something about.. well, that’s not important. But, I realized it then. We all thought it was just a matter of time, and that you’d make it official when you moved back home.”

You’re hearing every single thing Yunho is saying, but the words just won’t stick. You’re becoming more aware of the birds singing and the sound of the wind among the treetops.

”Mingi is in love with you,” Yunho says. At last. The rest of his words blur together. He has been, a long time, doesn’t know it. Yunhos mouth is moving, and you know what he’s saying, but the rational part of you that knows this can’t be true has stopped listening long ago.

Mingi is not in love with you. He’s just not, that can’t be true.

Yunho scrambles towards you, hands landing on each of your knees. He looks so concerned and his mouth is still moving.

”-you okay? What’s wrong?” You hear once your brain stops blocking your ears. You’re crying, tears falling from your cheeks down onto your hands.

”What did I say?” Yunho asks frantically.

And the confessions start rolling. You tell Yunho about everything, from that first night to everything that has happened since you returned back home. You tell him about the weird moment when Mingi drove you home after the party.

”Don’t you hear it though? He’s in love with you! My god, I think he always has been,” Yunho says.

You scoff, ”He ignored me for four whole months during my first semester away. He’s not in love with me, this is just.. out of comfort, it’s just easy.”

”You’re both in denial. You know what I’m hearing? That Mingi was so heartbroken when you moved away that he couldn’t even be a good friend. That didn’t just extend to you, by the way. He barely hung out with us during that time, and it only changed when you came home for Christmas,” Yunho tries to lay it out for you.

”You’re wrong. You’re wrong-”

”I can’t tell you what to believe,” Yunho says. His hand squeezes your knee, leaving dirty marks of grease on your skin. It’s a gesture of comfort, and you appreciate it for what it is. ”You need to talk to Mingi. Maybe disarm him by telling him that you’re in love with him first.”

The air feels different when you drive back home. It feels heavier, somehow. Yunhos words bear an incredible weight and no matter how many times you run them through your head they don’t get any easier to process. It would be different if it had come from Seonghwa or Hongjoong, who would say practically anything to comfort you. You don’t think Yunho would sweeten his words like they would, or even at all.

You sit through a quiet lunch with your mom, unable to get your thoughts in any other direction than the conversation you just had with Yunho. For some reason, you feel absolutely stuck there, and you can’t see a way for things to work. It feels as if time has been suspended in wait for your next move. The hours tick on though. You lay in your bed and watch the numbers on your alarm clock change. Seconds turn into minutes, and then hours, and your mind is still stuck in the same place as it has since you left Yunhos house.

You don’t realize when the clock indicates that Mingi is ending his shift. The numbers are just ticking, hypnotizing you. You startle when your phone calls and the pit in your stomach grows when you know that it’s probably Mingi.

Your fingers move on pure muscle memory as you pick up your phone and swipe to answer the call, then raise the phone to your ear. Through the phone, you can hear Mingis car running.

”Hello?” Mingi asks. ”You know, it’s usually the person who picks up the phone who speaks first.”

”Sorry,” you croak. You don’t even recognize the sound of your voice.

”Are you okay?” Mingi sounds so concerned it makes your stomach twist. It’s still the same Mingi you have known all your life, and he’s the same man you’ve been fucking the past weeks, but something feels as if it has fundamentally changed. You try to listen to his voice, read it for any hint of tenderness you’d have previously missed. You can’t make out any, it’s the same Mingi as always.

”It’s been a weird day,” you settle for.

”Then what do you say about changing into your swimsuit and we go to the lake? It’s so hot out, I can’t stand to be home. And maybe it can take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

”Yeah, sounds good.”

”I’ll pick you up in 5, better hurry!”

Mingi hangs up. Your head feels all fuzzy and distant, but you pull yourself out of bed and get changed. While putting your clothes over your swimsuit you realize you’re in one of Mingis t-shirts. Every single bit of this feels like a divine punishment. To be dressed in Mingis clothes and have marks in the shape of his mouth decorate your chest and the insides of your thighs, to be so thoroughly claimed by him but yet not be his, is agonizing.

You’re aware that Mingi would park in your driveway and come knocking at your door, wanting to impress and appease your parents at every turn. You just can’t deal with that today, so you hurriedly make your way down the stairs and out your door to wait for him outside. You’re just in time, because Mingi is making the turn up your street and it’s only half a minute before he’s pulling up to your house and you’re getting in his car.

”Hey, I missed you!” Mingi sounds cheerful, sporting a smile so big it’s splitting. You hate the way that time and space curl around Mingi each time you see him as if he presents to you in technicolor and slow motion. Your eyes pass over each feature, trying your best to handle what just seeing him does to your body.

Mingi keeps a pair of extra sunglasses in his car for you, and when you’re sat down he leans over to place them on your face. The gesture is enough to make your breath hitch, but he uses it as an opportunity to lean in for a swift kiss, and you feel as if you’re floating.

Today, Mingi has Fleetwood Mac playing softly throughout the car.

You’re just looking at Mingi with this pit in your stomach, this sense of impending doom sitting heavy in your abdomen. The world feels slow and strangely saturated. The seconds stretch on infinitely, allowing you plenty of time to watch the sunlight adorn Mingi's skin.

You’re aware that you can’t stop staring. When Mingi parks the car and you start making the short walk through the trees to get to the lake, your eyes are always set on him. From the towel slung over his shoulder to the sweat that has broken out and is trickling down the nape of his neck. You’re trying to make sense of the sight in front of you, the same Mingi you’ve made this walk with a hundred times, the only difference being that he’s had you in the most intimate and tender ways now. It forces you to rewrite history, the memories of your childhood innocence are permanently changed. If only you had known then, while sitting on the big rock and throwing pebbles out to break the still surface of the water if you had only known that the boy handing you rocks would end up being the man you fall in love with fifteen years later.

Your stupid, stupid heart. Sometimes you think the ribs, flesh, and muscle containing it won’t be enough to keep it in place. It beats so hard and fast it billows from your chest, through your arms, and out to the very tip of each finger. You have to flex them to stop that lovesick tingle from numbing you.

The water is beautiful. The lake looks just like you remember it, the wind is blowing slight ripples upon the surface and the trees are swinging lightly. Besides the gentle hum of nature, the place is completely undisturbed and it’s just you and Mingi here today.

You're placing your towels down and undressing in silence, barely glancing at each other. You sneak little glances at him in the corner of your eye, wondering what he’s thinking. Yunhos words are still echoing through your head, getting louder and more unbearable for every minute that passes.

Mingi is wading into the water before you know it, covered up to his knees, then thighs, then his waist, and eventually he points his arms and dives in entirely. He erupts back through the surface with a shriek that echoes over the lake, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing.

He rushes back up to where you’re laying on your towel, shoulders bunched up in reaction to the cold water. Mingi shakes his head above you to force droplets onto your bare skin, laughing loudly when you yell in protest. Things feel so extraordinarily regular, it’s as if you have transported back ten years in time. Even when Mingi gets down on his towel and leans over to kiss you, it still feels so normal. It just feels so right with Mingi, like this is what you’re meant to be doing.

Mingis's mouth is cold and wet from his dip in the water, and his hair continues to drip onto your face, but you find it hard to care when he wraps you up in a long, passionate kiss. He’s on his stomach on his towel now, as close to you as he can get. Your heart beats with a discernible nervosity at the fact that you are laid out in the open with Mingi making out with you. There would be quite a walk for anyone else to get here, and you would probably be able to hear branches breaking or even a car parking way before anyone could walk upon the scene and spot the two of you. The risk of getting caught here is low, but you still feel like you’re on display.

Mingis cold fingers wrap around your jaw where he keeps you firmly as his tongue enters your mouth. The kissing goes to your head very quickly, dulling all your senses as all your thoughts are replaced by what Mingi is doing with his mouth. He knows you so well that he pulls away seconds before you lose your breath, letting you regain it while he kisses the corner of your mouth softly. His hand trails over your chest and down your stomach carefully, feeling the way your ribcage heaves as your breaths get steadier.

Mingis eyes follow the path of his hand before he abruptly stops by your knee.

”What’s that?” he asks you. You have to crane your neck to see what he’s looking at. Not much remains of it, but there are still faint marks of dirt and grease on the top of your knees. Just on the outside of your leg, there’s an unmistakable fingerprint.

”Oh,” you mumble. Mingi detaches himself from you with a quickness that makes you lose your breath, and you scramble to get up too.

”I don’t- I feel like I don’t even need to ask who left that on you,” Mingi says.

”It was Yunho,” you rush out, wanting so badly to resolve this before Mingis thoughts spin and twist so bad that you can’t untangle them. It’s clear from the look on his face that your words and their haste only have the opposite effect.

”Yunho?” he questions, getting quieter.

”It’s not all what you think. He called me about that shirt he let me borrow a few weeks ago, remember? I went to his house to give it back and we got to talking. You know, just.. stuff, about life. I ended up getting emotional and he comforted me. I was crying and he put his hands on my knees, that’s all.” You read Mingis's face for any changes, but nothing happens. He only looks at you, taking in your half-truth excuse of an explanation.

”What is it that Yunho can comfort you about, but I can’t?” Mingi asks, his eyes staring into yours with so much intensity you feel like crying. You had expected everything but that. You’d rather Mingi accuse you of getting intimate with Yunho, that you’re lying and it’s a terrible cover story you’re spinning. You could defend yourself from all that, but not this.

”That’s not… Mingi, it’s not like that. I didn’t just choose to go there for comfort. It just happened, I just started crying, and that’s it,” you urge.

Mingis legs are drawn up to his chest and his arms are wrapped around them. He looks so small and vulnerable. His eyebrows are starting to furrow together, and you’re finding it hard to tell if it’s anger or sadness that is starting to show on his face. Both possibilities terrify you equally.

”Why?” he wonders, simply. ”Why did you cry?”

You can physically see the restraints he’s putting on himself to hear you out, to not race away with his worries. You wish it means what you want it to mean. That Mingis vulnerability was an act of love instead of self-preservation. He’s probably sat there worried at the threat of Yunho taking you away and replacing his role. That the fun you’ve had the past weeks, and the year before that, would be over, just like that. You wonder if he views it as a hindrance more than anything. Mingi has finally scored a way to have sex on the regular, without the commitment or worries of starting with someone new. What you have is a lot of comfort, and you suppose he doesn’t want to lose that.

Still, even this feels like a lot more than you deserve of him. If you can’t have Mingi in the ways that you want, you’ll have to do your best to preserve the arrangement you have now.

”It’s not important,” you mumble. You know it’s not a good enough answer.

Mingi lets the word hover in the air for a moment, pondering on whether he should let it go.

In the end, he decides to speak. ”There’s nothing you can tell me that would scare me off. You know that, right?”

”That’s not true,” you whisper, so quiet it’s almost a hiss. ”There is something I can’t ever tell you.”

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and it’s now a conscious effort to keep your sobs contained within your chest. The lake is still breathtaking, the wind is still and the sun is bright in the perfect blue sky. It’s a beautiful day to get your heart broken, at the very least.

Mingi stretches his fingers and you watch the tendons twitch and flex. You’re brought back to what you were doing earlier, shaking off your nerves.

”What if I say it first?” he says. You look up at his eyes.

”What?”

”That I love you,” he tells you. His eyes are big and dark, brimming with tears of his own. ”If I say it first, will you say it too?”

”Mingi-”

”I do love you,” he begins. ”It’s stupid, looking back, because I think I’ve loved you since before you left. I loved you that first night, I already knew it, and I felt so stupid when I woke up the morning after. Doing that with you when I was drunk out of my mind made me feel like shit. And then I felt even more like shit, because- because, it made me realize that it hadn’t been the way I wanted it to be. So I took comfort in the fact that it was over the phone, and I still had time to do it right. To start right, with you, I mean. I wanted our first time to be perfect. I knew I loved you when I kept thinking about it. But then, when you finally came back, it truly clicked. For a while, I had figured that I’d know how I felt about you when we had sex for the first time. But I was wrong because all it took was me seeing you to know that I’m in love with you.”

”Mingi,” you whisper, again, over and over. It’s all you can bring yourself to say, like a prayer, before you crawl over to him and press your lips to his. It doesn’t matter that it takes him a beat to respond, you don’t care at all anymore about how things get awkward or strange. You continue to kiss over his mouth until he’s ready to kiss you back, when time finally catches up to you and it dawns on you both that this is real.

You can’t stop kissing him, breathing out his name every time you part.

”I love you,” you mumble into his mouth. ”I’m so in love with you.”

Mingi smiles into the kiss. Your senses are overwhelmed with the taste of both your tears and the fact that you’re both now smiling and giggling, repeating ’I love you’s until the words merge.

He pulls you into his arms, tumbling over into the grass. He stops kissing you to just look at you, and you watch him too. Your Mingi, in the grass by the lake. Finally, your Mingi.

[noyasmashing]

hear me out... noya gets dommed by his partner who is SOMEHOW shorter than him. (bonus points if he booked them a love hotel. like they spent the whole day traveling and sightseeing in tokyo only for his partner to find out his horny ass booked them a love hotel for the night.)

oh anon, as someone who is 4’11, I LOVE this idea. also my first time writing more than just a hand/blow job so sorry if it’s bad 😓

I’ll try to leave this gn reader since you didn’t specify gender! mentions of the readers “cock” but can be interpreted as a strap! (plz keep the requests coming i need more motivation)

You and Nishinoya had been dating for a year now, and he was eager to escape the rural area of Miyagi prefecture and explore new sights with you.

So, when you suggested spending a night in Tokyo and booking a hotel, he was thrilled! He insisted on handling the hotel booking to spare you the stress, but of course, there was another reason behind his eagerness.

After taking the bus to Tokyo, you spent the day wandering in and out of charming shops, picking up souvenirs and trinkets that matched your unique interests.

As the night drew to a close, you and Nishinoya enjoyed a romantic candlelit dinner, feeling content and ready to unwind in the comfort of a hotel bed.

As you hailed a taxi, Nishinoya quietly directed the driver to a specific location, causing the driver to chuckle. You eyed Noya suspiciously, but he avoided your piercing gaze, pretending to look around with curiosity.

The beat-up car halted to a stop in front of a rather sleek hotel, its planters and greenery framing the modern exterior. The streetlights illuminated the taxi as the two of you stepped out, carrying your overnight bags.

"Yu? What is this," you asked suspiciously, placing a hand on your hip, catching onto the situation at hand. He swallowed nervously, looking down at you.

"I-I... well, [name], I just wanted to spend a romantic night with you," he confessed, hoping to soften your reaction. To his slight surprise, you replied with a smirk as the two of you ducked into the discreet entrance.

Less than ten minutes later, you had him pinned against the door of your room, his hands clutching your shirt as he nervously looked down at you.

"Did you book this so you can be as loud as you want?" you asked in a seductive voice that made his knees buckle. Instead of replying, he half nodded, embarrassed at his own reasoning.

Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss. Noya responded eagerly, by moving his body closer to yours, practically climbing on top of you.

You pulled away way with a trail of saliva following, “You’ll be excited to see what I brought.” You told him mischievously.

Walking over to your bag with him trailing behind, you pulled out a bottle of lube and his favorite toy. His reaction was adorable with his face flushing red in surprise letting out a small whimper.

With a breathy, "Please," He moved closer to you once again. You couldn't help but let out a sadistic giggle at his reaction.

"Wow, are you already begging?" you teased playfully, holding the bottle of lube and toy in your hands.

Noya's embarrassment turned into anticipation as he watched you with eager eyes. "I-I just... I want tonight to be special," he stammered, his voice betraying a mix of desire and nervousness.

You smiled, appreciating his vulnerability and enthusiasm. "It will be," you assured him, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before moving to his ear, "I’m going to ruin you.”

You led Noya further into the room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light. The ambiance was perfect for what you had in mind, and Noya's bashfulness only fueled your desire further.

His spiky hair was now tousled as he lay on the heart-shaped pillow atop the circular bed that you both would be sharing for the night.

At this point, he wore merely a shirt, and his well-defined thighs were widely apart, exposing his cock, that oh-so desperately wanted attention. You chuckled at his vulnerable position, comfortably seated between his exposed legs, exclusively for your amusement. His faint "be quiet" response elicited a gentle coo from you.

He exhaled a surprised gasp as your two fingers, coated with the cold lubricant, gently penetrated his tight hole.

“N-not so fast [name]… we have all night after all.” He reasoned with a shakily voice, fearing he might reach climax too soon if you were too hasty.

"You won't be able to think straight once I'm through with you," you retorted sharply. A hint of disbelief was present in your tone, as you questioned, "Did you truly believe you could secretly book a love hotel without me finding out?" Your fingers, now more assertive, continued their rhythmic movements within him.

He instinctively tried to close his thighs, an attempt to escape the intense stimulation. However, you were swift in preventing that, maintaining control. His response was a feeble, " 'm sorry, please... slow down, slow down or I'll-" His words were cut off as a wave of pleasure overtook him, causing the white liquid to leak from his poor cock onto his abdomen.

"Hmm, already cumming without my permission?" you inquired, detaching your fingers from his sensitive area, drawing a whine from him. Before he could utter an apology, you replaced your fingers with your member, silencing his words with a moan of pleasure.

His hands clung to your shoulder, his voice filled with desperation as you continued your relentless pace. "Too much, it's too much!" he cried, his back arched as you skillfully hit his prostate. Despite the exhaustion in your thighs, you continued your harsh pace not giving him a break.

He could sense tears forming on his eyelashes, an almost unbearable sensation accompanied by intense heat. His inner world was being invaded, as each thrust triggered his prostate.

You grinned, feeling a sense of accomplishment. In your view, it was a breathtaking sight. His eyes struggled to stay open, tears brimming, lower lip caught between his teeth. His legs twitched, hands tightly grasping the sheet. Oh, what a stunning spectacle it was. You couldn’t resist degrading him once more, “How is it that you tower over me, but right now you look so small?”

Leaning into your teasing words, he nodded, moans dripping from his lips as saliva filled his mouth, his mind not processing anything but pleasure.

You gripped his soft thighs and lifted them, transitioning to a missionary position. He felt the increase in your rhythm, his breath catching as he exclaimed, "Ah- gonna cum!"

However, just as he reached the brink, you abruptly pulled out, leaving him feeling empty as hot tears poured down his cheeks. He cried out a pathetic “noo”, his flushed erection twitching in disappointment.

"You can't expect me to do all the work. Why don't you ride me for a bit, yeah?" you directed in a husky tone, acknowledging the long night ahead.

[zorosbeau33]

Courting Gifts~ One Piece Omegaverse Headcanon Part 1!

Starring: Ace and Luffy! x gender neutral reader Genre: Fluff, sfw AU: Omegaverse, Omega Reader Wc: 1180 TW: Mentions of battle Masterlist~ Part 2~ Is ready! Thank you everyone for all your support! All characters involved in this fic are legal age or older in my au hope you enjoy!

This Goofy goofball knows exactly how to court. He gives me soft alpha/strong beta vibes. And he learned from Makino the ways to court long ago.

HOWEVER that being said, he also likes making you laugh. Courting gifts when it was just a crush were often goofy and maybe small inside jokes, or even mini pranks. 

Like a cupcake with sour flavored icing, still good but not at all what you were expecting. Boy did he giggle and laugh when your face puckered up with confusion.

Once he realizes these feelings are here to stay, or if you take initiative and heavily hint or gift him something. Then he gets sincere and downright smitten and soft

I hope you like the color orange, because he thinks you look so cute in the fuzzy luxury fur blanket with orange silk lining. Yes the fur has been dyed orange to match as well and you stick out like a sore thumb on this winter island but you're warm!

He is much more of a simple gift kinda guy, first sign is him not just sharing his food with you but getting a plate and filling it for you before looking after himself. 

He long ago memorized your favorite food 

He uses his devil fruit as a gift for you as well…yes in his mind warm hugs or warm handed deep tissue massages count as courting gifts. They're a promise from him to you he will take care of you forever if you allow him.

He has never understood collecting shiny rocks, seashells, and the like…until now. Something about courting makes every exceptional seashell and rock extra special now and if he thinks theyre pretty he will pocket them to give to you later.

“The way it shined reminded me of your eyes/smile”

He's much more of a physical show rather than buying gifts. So his presents may not be noticed immediately.

Giving you rides in his flame boat (he has to carry you so his flames dont set you on fire and boy does he love carrying you now)

Insisting on being the one to be paired up with you for anything and everything. From crew game night, to exploration parties, to mission assignments, even to his previously hated cleaning duties. 

Soft touches, on your waist, your hand. To help you get across a large gap (if he doesn't just pick you up). To reassure you if you’re expressing a moment of doubt/trouble. When he thinks your smile is especially bright and he just needs to touch your cheek to ensure you’re real.

 Or to push you behind him in times of danger or conflict, yes you can take care of yourself BUT he wants to be your support and fighter. He is first to cheer you on in a fight, but if he can prevent a needless dangerous encounter he will put himself in front so any animosity is directed at him not you.

When he realizes you might want clothes, or scented items he goes to Marco.

He understands the process, he gets how to scent something. However he wants his brother figure and the very honest bestie to help him judge which ones are best. He doesn’t want to over scent something and have it be oppressive. And he knows he’s rough on clothes so he’s making sure the things he’s giving you are good quality still so they’ll last as long as you want to keep them.

He also gives you a nickname, you’ve always had one but it was more of a teasing best friend kind of thing. Suddenly you have a much more dignified and polite nickname…its also a very classic 50’s romance sort of nickname like Doll, or Pumpkin, or Kitten…or Angel

Okay he’s alpha, if that wasn’t evident from his emperors haki and being captain etc 

Unlike his brother he is dumb…very dumb. Has never cared about courting a day before in his life. Used to say “EW” and stick out his tongue (even at 16)

He doesn’t even realize at first that the things he is doing is courting when he first starts. Probably because he doesn’t realize at first that he has feelings for you.

Robin did from day one, Zoro did maybe the first week, Sanji had suspicions too after a month or so, and the others later feel like they should have seen it coming since he constantly talked about how mouth-watering you smelled and loved to cling around you and just burrow in your neck to snuffle you. He learned not to nip when Nami yelled at him for it the first day he met you. Like I said the others feel they should have seen this sooner.

Giving you bits of his food, scenting you, constantly asking to hold your hand, and giving you every single cool thing he sees for you to “keep safe” but if you try to give them back he’d “no thanks you keep them!” then laugh and bounce off

Unlike what anyone would have expected Luffy figures out his emotions for you very quickly. It didn’t take Robins hints to him, he knew after you all finally got in a large altercation together against the world government or some pirates. He was always protective of his nakama, but before the enemy could land the devastating blow to your back in the battle. Luffy was screaming in rage. Bounding across the battlefield to you to protect HIS friend. His…ohhh…

He talked to Robin and Nami, they advised him on courting and how to make you his. He only grasped 30% but he’s trying

He would make the ship go broke in order to buy you every cool thing, or every soft nesting thing, or all the food you could eat. 

The king of bringing you random plucked wildflowers (several have been confiscated by Chopper as they were poisonous plants, Luffys eye for weird things haven gotten the best of him)

They're messy but he learns to make flower crowns for you both to wear. Talks about making them for your future kids

He didn’t used to own much clothing, but now he is expanding his wardrobe just so he can have more things that smell like him to wrap you up in.

You have exclusive hat permission, don’t abuse it but if you ever ask him, he does not mind putting it on your head for a while

He thinks you look so good in it too, makes him puff up his chest and yell to the world how awesome you are.

He has bought you one very nice present, one he had to work his butt off to get. Literally, Nami made him get a job on an island to pay for it and he was actually sincere while working there (sorry Baratie). 

It's a unisex gold bangle bracelet with a red ruby with your and his initials engraved in the gold along with the date you joined his crew (because yes he remembers the date perfectly)

[nahoney22]

Congrats!!!!! I’ve been loving your stories for so long and I’m so glad to be able to read your stories on this journey with the bad batch.

May I request the reader x bb member where the reader needs to use their safe word and the batcher’s reaction? I need some soft fluff in preparation for the series finale.

Lots of love! Thank you.

The Safe Word*** 🌊

The Bad Batch X Gender Neutral Reader

authors note: sorry for the wait! Hope this is okay - I went down the BDSM route as that is when safe words are typically used so I hope that’s okay with you? And I hope there’s plenty of fluff and comfort for you after as there is some angst. I hope you enjoyed the finale 🩵

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Uses of a safe word, explicit sexual content and language, brief mentions BDSM/bondage play such as shibari, knifeplay, spanking, dirty talk, degradation kink, light choking. There is angst but followed up comfort and aftercare, discussions of past negative relationships, established relationships with each of the batch.

NSFW under the cut:

Echo - Havoc

You and Echo had never considered using a safe word until recently when things started to spice up in the bedroom. But, settling on "havoc" felt right.

One night as Echo nestled beside you, his lips grazing your neck, kissing and sucking hour soft skin, his hand explores beneath your clothes as you found yourself bound to the headrest. It was a recent experiment for both of you. Yet, a sense of unease crept in as the loss of movement weighed on you, a feeling you hadn't quite anticipated.

The bounds were tight, restricting you of even wriggling your fingers and a surge of panic builds in you.

"Echo, havoc," you utter urgently, your voice tinged with uncertainty, making him withdraw instantly, concern flickering in his wide golden eyes.

"Is everything okay?" he asks softly, his gaze searching yours.

"It's my hands, I can't..." you falter, your heart racing as you gesture to your restrained wrists. Without hesitation, Echo releases you, peppering apologetic kisses on your wrists.

"Was it too much?" he inquires gently, his voice laced with worry, as you take a moment to steady your breathing, grateful for his understanding.

You catch your breath and nod, a little embarrassed by your reaction. "Sorry, I thought I was ready."

He smiles in understanding and tenderly kisses your forehead. "And that’s alright. We don’t need to do that again if you don’t want to. I want to respect your boundaries," he coos, his voice reassuring as he allows you to snuggle into his side, the warmth of his embrace easing away your worries.

You were so glad to be with someone as gentle and sweet as Echo.

Hunter - Marauder

It was you who initiated it first, drawn to the mesmerising way Hunter twirled his viroblade. And so you suggested the possibility of incorporating it into your alone time with him.

Seeing the excitement flicker in his eyes, you found yourself in his bunk that night, bared to the skin, watching as he manoeuvred the blade with practiced ease. As he pressed its edge against your thigh, the cold sensation sent shivers down your spine, your focus fixated on the blade rather than on him.

Your breath hitched, fixated on the blade's movements rather than on him. He hovered over you, the blade gliding up your waist until it grazed your cheek, the sensation causing an unexpected discomfort.

"Marauder," you say quickly, a safe word you and Hunter had for each other from day one almost, watching as he discards the blade in an instant, his eyes softening with concern.

"Did I hurt you?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry as he focuses solely on you.

You shake your head, silently apologizing to him. "Sorry, I just... I freaked out for a moment there."

He settles beside you, draping the blanket over you to preserve your dignity, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. "I sensed there was something wrong, your heart wasn’t beating as it usually does," he says, his tone filled with a hint of self-reproach for not noticing it sooner. "Let’s watch a holomovie instead, yeah?" he suggests, wanting to shift your focus to put you at ease.

Grateful for his understanding, you intertwine your fingers with his as he sets up a device for the two of you to watch something. Maybe you'll revisit knifeplay someday, but for now, you're content to enjoy a quiet moment together.

Wrecker - Meiloorun

Typically a gentle giant, Wrecker was particularly attentive in the bedroom. But tonight, something changed.

With your face buried in the pillow and fingers gripping the sheets, you felt a sharp sting as Wrecker delivered a firm spank to your arse. "You've been naughty, haven't ya?" he teased, his dirty talk adding to the arousal.

While playful spanking was nothing new between you two, Wrecker seemed to get carried away, delivering a harder blow than usual. As his hand made contact again, you couldn't help but sob out, uttering "Meiloorun," the safe word to halt his actions.

It took a moment for Wrecker to register your plea, muffled by the pillow but he quickly shifted you onto your back and holds you close. "Kriff, I'm so sorry. Was I too hard?" he asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Though your eyes stung with tears, they didn't reflect the distress evident in Wrecker's. "Just a little rougher than usual, sweetie," you said softly, cupping his cheek. "I’m fine."

"I hurt ya," he sighed, taking your hand in his. "I've never hurt ya before."

"It just stung, Wrecker, that's all," you reassured him, allowing his arms to envelop you protectively. "And you stopped as soon as I said our safe word. I appreciate that."

Wrecker holds you for a little while, whispering soothing things in your ear as you did the same with him as you both feel grateful for another. You knew it was not intentional and you reminded Wrecker of this. Next time, he knows to be more careful.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Wrecker.”

Tech - Tibanna

When you first started dating Tech, you never imagined he had such intriguing desires—like the one he was demonstrating on his device: Shibari.

"I believe you will look divine constricted like this as I make you succumb to me," his words dripped with lust, his eyes intense behind his goggles, sending shivers down your spine.

And so, you let him. While you and Tech had explored various kinky activities, nothing quite like this had been on the agenda. With the others away for hours, he instructed you to strip bare and sit in the pilot's seat as he skillfully threaded the rope through his hands.

"Let us begin, shall we?" he said, starting with a simple kiss before expertly binding you to the chair with intricate patterns. But, as he worked, something shifted within you. The mood didn't feel right, overwhelming you completely. Though he looked at you like a delectable treat, you felt like a trapped creature, desperately searching for a way out.

So, you uttered the safe word.

"Tibanna.” You breathed shakily as Tech was about to secure your feet to the base of the chair. He paused, looking up at you.

"Do you wish to be free?"

"Yes," you managed to say with a swallowed nod. That was all it took for him to grab a tool and release your most restricted parts, allowing you to move freely once again.

You stand, legs trembling beneath you as you hastily reach for your robe, wrapping it around yourself to conceal the rope marks now etched into your skin. Tech's gaze follows your movements, his expression a mix of concern and uncertainty, unsure of how to respond to the sudden change in mood.

“Darling,” he begins tentatively, closing the distance between you and gently placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn away, your back to him, “are you alright?”

Your response is barely audible, a muttered apology escaping your lips as you avoid meeting his eyes, feeling the weight of disappointment settle in the air.

“Nothing has been spoiled. I still have you,” he reassures you as he wraps his arms around you, drawing you close. “I never want you to feel uncomfortable with our endeavours. Perhaps this can be something we revisit in the future when you're ready. But for now, how about we step outside and admire the stars? They're rather impressive tonight.”

His words wash over you, a soothing balm to your nerves, and you nod in agreement, grateful for his understanding. As you lean into his embrace, you feel a sense of relief flood through you, knowing that he prioritises your comfort above all else.

Crosshair - Tooka

Crosshair was always a man of mystery to you, yet his cloudy aura somehow making him irresistible. It took a while, but the two of you made it work and got together. He was sweet on you, not even shy to show how he felt in front of his brothers around you. But in the bedroom, that was a whole different story.

When you suggested having a ‘safe word,’ he questioned why ‘stop’ and ‘no’ weren’t good enough, but he let you pick a word anyway, even if it was ‘tooka.’ He just never expected you to use it.

His hand tightened around your throat, eyes ablaze with lust as he pressed his body against yours in a rhythmic pattern, sending shivers down your spine. “Such a good slut, aren’t you?” he grunted, his fingers gently squeezing your windpipe as he moved against you.

Dirty talk was normal while choking and degradation was a silent kink of yours, but in the heat of things there was a word he used that made you gasp, a sudden wave of panic washing over you as you felt vulnerable.

“Tooka. Tooka. Tooka,” you repeated quickly, gasping for a breath you didn’t know had been taken from you as he released you completely, his eyes furrowing in concern as you almost backed away from him.

He was silent for a moment, watching you, trying to process what he could have done wrong. Then, he remembered a conversation you had after a drink or two, where you opened up about certain past relationships.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he lay beside you, giving you a moment before taking your hand in his. “I… I didn’t mean what I said. I’d never hurt you.”

You blinked away your tears and smiled weakly at him. “I know, Cross,” you whispered back, “just… lay with me, hm? Let’s not talk about it.”

He debated if that was the right course of action, knowing you were vulnerable, but he said no more.

He debated if that was the right course of action, knowing you were vulnerable, but he said no more. He draped a blanket over the two of you and allowed you to nestle into his side, rubbing soothing circles into your back, murmuring words of comfort and reassurance as you both sought solace in each other's embrace. “I love you,”

You smile silently and meet his gaze. “I know.”

You had never felt so loved and cared for since being with him.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @jedi-hawkins

@tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur r @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez

[moirindeclermont]

Shall I bring to you the unhinged list I promised yesterday??? So, yesterday it was all about intimate scenes that I wish for Pen and Colin in Bridgerton season 4 that could happen in canon. Today... Today is about stuff that won't happen in canon, but maybe someone will head my pray and let this happen somehow. Disclaimer, if you're not into this it's okay, but by now you know I'm unhinged, so let's go on this journey together.

I want a scene with Jealous Colin, maybe someone that flirts a little too shamelessly with Pen. Followed by the most scorching hot scene in which he bends her over their desk and things get real intense quickly, maybe with a spank or two.

You know it's coming. My personal favorite combination. Edging and dirty talking. I write a whole fic for this for a reason. Just Colin telling her the mot nasty stuff while she can't seek her release.

I know I will lose you here, but I can't believe the Benedict is the only one that get to experience a threesome... So let's make it Polin style. I admit, it requires a bit of plot because it's not something that can happen overnight. The gender is not important, but maybe two men (Colin + someone) that both worship Pen... Yeah, that I can see it.

Some stuff with clamps? Or even just ropes. Pen in ropes would be something exquisite. Of course they do this while looking in the mirror, do you really have to ask? It's soft!Dom Colin but to its extreme. And why not also reverse it, just Dom Pen in all her glory.

They love doing public stuff right? Then let's go and embracing it. They know people are watching.. and they love it. Colin would love to make the whole Ton recognize that Pen is an extraordinary woman, but she is also his.

A reverse carriage scene... I think Pen on her knees would be at the perfect height to experience the power that come with pleasing his man with hands and mouth. And talking about this, let's go to the land of numbers and explore what a 69 can bring to the dynamic, why not?

And while these will likely never happen, even though a couple could be achieved if the actors are comfortable with it, of course we will always have fanfiction (and I'm making a list for a future post with my recommendation). But some of these may service a plot purpose, although it's extremely unlikely that those plots will ever be considered for them.

But I'm very curious to hear it from you... What's your unhinged hope for Polin in season 4?

[softpascalito]

Pedro Pascal x Reader - Here with me

Summary: During his time in Morrocco, Pedro finds himself in need of reassurance. You are happy to help.

Relationships: Pedro Pascal x Reader

WC: ~1200

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Gender-Neutral Reader, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pedro is a softie in this, the morroco pics made me do it, pedro pascals cream-colored hat, age differene (not specified), insecurities

AO3 LINK

Notes:

i hope yall like this! it is my first time posting a pedro work so id love to hear your thoughts on it <3 also watch me settle the six pack debate through the power of fanfiction.

_________________________________________________________

“I look stupid.” He muttered under his breath as he stood in front of the mirror. You weren't sure if he was talking to you or to himself. Still, you had caught every word.

“You do not look stupid.” “Fine, then I look- I don't know - bad.”

You sighed, finally turning your full attention towards the man you adored so much.

“You do not-” You crossed the bedroom in a few strides until you were behind him and could gently brush your hand over his back:” look stupid or bad-” He opened his mouth to protest but you immediately cut him off:” or whatever other similar attributes you have prepared.”

Pedro grumbled but it soon turned into a soft sigh as you carefully brushed the wrinkles out of his white tee and stood on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder, glancing at him in the mirror. He looked more than good, in your opinion. His skin was sunkissed, the colorful trunks went well with the basic shirt, he had put on some comfy sneakers and the light fedora he'd brought from Los Angeles. His hair was still a little messy after the shower you had shared and bits of it stuck out below his hat, making him all the more adorable.

You pressed a small kiss to his shoulder, just below his neck. The skin was soft and warm, having absorbed the sun throughout the long day you had spent exploring the streets of Morocco.

“You were so excited about bringing the hat when we packed, baby.” You mumbled to him, searching for his gaze through the mirror in front of you. He still didn't look at you, his eyes instead wandering over his body once more. Your lips were still on his skin and the vibrations of your voice carried into it as you spoke:” What's going on?” Pedro let out another small sigh:” Its nothing, I'm sorry. Just a long week.”

You knew shooting had been draining, the long hours combined with the physicality of the role and the heat- you admired how well he coped with it. Then again, maybe he didn't. Very gently, you stepped back and lowered your heels to the floor, returning to your normal height. You placed a hand on either side of his hips and slowly nudged him to turn around until he was fully facing you. Your left hand stayed on his hip while your right one wandered up to cup his face. He hadn't shaved in a while and you ran your thumb over his beard.

“What's going on?” You asked again, gazing up at him. You both knew he couldn't resist opening up to you. Not when you were looking at him like that. The words almost tumbled out of his mouth.“I just want to go somewhere without it ending up on social media. I want to go out with unwashed hair and a stained shirt and not worry about repeating an outfit or looking stupid or old or-” You shushed him gently, your hand still caressing his cheek.

“Baby, you can. Noone will mind, I promise.” He still looked doubtful. You didn't want to push him but at the same time you felt like you wanted to get to the bottom of this. You knew he needed the reassurance.

“You're afraid you'll look old?” He shrugged a little but it was accompanied by a small nod. So, that was it. “Can I ask something?” Your thumb had begun to draw circles on his cheek and he gave another silent nod.

“Are you scared that someone will think you're old?” You paused for a moment:” Or are you scared I will?”

His large brown eyes finally met yours and-

Oh.

Pedro barely had time to react as you leaned up and pressed a desperate kiss to his lips, trying to convey how much you adored him, making up for the words you couldn't find. He wrapped his arms around you, almost protectively and it suddenly occurred to you that he must've had that thought for a while.

“Pedrito, I- I don't think that.” You mumbled:” What makes you think I do? And don't say it was the stupid hat, you've worn that before.” He kissed you again, buying some time before he had to reply. “When we were at the beach a few weeks ago and I didn't have my reading glasses with me.” You knew exactly what he meant. And you immediately felt guilty. It had been a rare day off for the two of you and you'd decided to pack up some towels, books and snacks and spend the day at the beach. And then he had realized that he'd forgotten his reading glasses. And you had teased him about it.

“Baby, I didn't mean- Why didn't you say anything?” You asked quietly. You had pulled back a little more, to properly study his face. Just like you, he seemed to struggle with finding the right words. “I didn't want to make a whole deal about it. And I didn't- I didn't mind it. At first.” He explained gently. His voice was low and his gaze kept flickering away from your face:” I don't want you to miss out on things just because I, well, just because I'm older.” You couldn't help but let out a small giggle at that. Pedro stared at you like you had gone crazy:” What's so funny about that?” He demanded. You grinned up at him, your thumb still rubbing circles into his skin:” I'm not some rich Hollywood guy with a fancy yacht. I'm not going to trade you in for some young hunk with a six pack.”

You could tell he still tried to look a little mad but the corners of his lips curled a little as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hide his smile. That earned him another small laugh from you. “With this role, I might have a six pack soon, you know.” He teased as he finally looked down at you again. Your hand that had rested on his hips slowly moved under his shirt, finding his small, soft belly.

”As long as it makes for a comfortable pillow, I don't mind either.”

That elicited a small smile from Pedro. He watched your expression closely as you shifted, turning a little more serious. “I knew how old you were when we started dating. In fact, I'm pretty sure I knew before that.” You said gently:” I don't mind. I want to be with you. Siempre.” Your thumb had found the small, bald spot in his beard and rested in it for a moment. They fit perfectly. “Okay.” He whispered. And then it was his turn to try and convey an emotion he couldn't quite grasp with a kiss.

You understood.

After a while, you pulled back and studied his face for a moment, the way his eyes seemed a little watery, the shape of his nose, his slightly reddened lips. You smiled.

“If you wear the hat, I'll wear the dress.” It took him only a second to catch on:” The yellow one?” He asked, his face lighting up at the idea. ”The yellow one.” You confirmed.

You'd never seen him wear a hat with more pride.