#His Obsession and Possesion au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mysinsforventi · 7 months

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~💜~ If I'm your truth, can you be my lie? ~💜~

~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~

dom! Lyney x sub! f. reader

(reader ISN'T traveler!!)

+ 18 (minors DNI!!!) (all characters in this are adults!)

(This was written before 4.1 release! Characters are not canon! Just my AU!)

Warnings:

(THERE IS A LOT!!): not canon (ooc), a bit of arlecchino x lumine at the end (just minor) , angst, smut, dark themes, cursing, manipulation, gaslighting, pedophile noble man, drugging minors, kidnapping, trauma, death/ murder, lying , self hatred, betrayal, anxiety, depression, identity issues, anger issues, rough sex, nipple/clit clips, anal sex, vibrator, double penetration, master-kink, breeding, creampie, overstimulation, name-calling, discrimination, spanking, a bit voyeurism?, dirty talk, teasing, oral sex both, fingering, reader crying (out of pleasure), hickeys, bitemarks, possesive behavior, obsession, fatui lyney, bit yanderer lyney, (let me know if I forgot something!!)

About:

As lumine's & paimon's travel companien you had the luck of seeing a lot of things, meeting a lot of people. There was never a time you were not grateful for beeing so close with the legend traveler. That all changed after entering fontain. Fontain the nation of justice. It changed you forever. All because a special magican boy has his eyes on you. Showing a huge amount of interest in you.

Neither of you knew, you were all just puzzle pieces of a much bigger game. Well one person knew.. or is it all just a lie? Then what is the truth? Can you be HIS truth? After all he is YOUR lie. Will the traveler lose another important person or win another good friend? Who is the mastermind behind these events? Who is 'the knave' really? Who is betraying who?

Blinded by a lie you try to find the truth. What a great magic trick. Creating a lie for you. Actually you were blinded by the truth, trying to find a lie..

~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~

(I noted were the nsfw part starts and where it ends, because the ff is so long! ♡ )

(Another fanfic I'll go to hell for! I'm acutally very proud of this one lmao! Please enjoy~♡)

~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~��~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~

Fontain, the nation of justice. Lumine and paimon, your best friends and you just arrived here. You had overcome many difficulties since your first days in mondstadt. So you walked with confindence along the habor of fontain. Yet neither of you had any idea that this would be your last journey together. That the nation of justice would take something else from the traveler. The only hope, besides her good friend paimon, she still had left. What tragedy..

"I heard that here in fontain they use all kind of different machines!", paimon explained, floating infront of the both of you. You looked at the huge waterfall and smiled amazed, "What a sight!! Did you ever see something like this on your travels lumine?", you asked curiously, looking over at your friend. The traveler nodded her head as she smiled, "One time there was a huge waterfall that moved backwards. The people used to keep whales as their pets and ride on them~", lumine explained while giggeling to herself. "W-WHALES??", paimon asked shocked. You glared at lumine, "You are messing with me right?!", as you laughed. "What?! And paimon trusted you!!", your floating friend pouted, stumping her foot in the air. This made all of you laugh, "noo the betrayal!!~~", you added in a dramatic voice and laughed more.

After you calmed down you decided to talk to a girl looking into the water for a while. Scared she would jump in. "Are you alright?", paimon asked the girl. "Huh? Oh! Yes I'm fine, thanks for asking!", the girl said, continueing to stare into the water. "We don't mean to bother you it's just you looked worried so we wanted to ask if everything is okay?", paimon tried again. "Please don't jump! This might be weird coming from a stranger but it's not worth it!", you added, looking worried, mentally getting ready to jump in after her.

The girl finally turned around to you, "I wasn't going to jump. There is no reason to worry. I was just looking at a hill were my brother and I played as kids", she said, smiling a bit softly at you before going back to this emotionless expression of hers. Did she just smile? No you must be seeinh things, all this way through the dessert must've messed with your head.

"Well hello there, I don't think we had the pleasure of meeting yet? Are you lynettes new friends?", a boy, looking very much the same as the girl asked, walking towards us. "No we just wanted to ask if everything is okay and got to talking", you answered with a smile, "even tho we don't got what she was saying..", paimon added, lumine nodded with a gently smile. "Mhh I see thats odd. Usually lynette never talk much, especially not with strangers. The only one she ever talks is with me. I'm lyney and thats my sister lynette~", the boy, lyney said with a bright smile on his lips. "Nice to meet you lyney and lynette, I'm y/n, the travelers companien", you said, "paimon is paimon and thats the traveler", she smiles at the twins before us.

"Y/n what a magical name..", lyney laughed and looked in your eyes with a soft gaze. You smiled back and giggeld, "Thank you lyney, your name reminds me of sugar, it sounds sweet~". Lyney blushed at that and coughed. This made lynette laugh quietly. You giggled as lumine and paimon just hit their hand on their heads.

Back then you didn't even realise how much impact this moment had. This interaction between all of you. The soft gaze, the warm, charming smile, the sweet words leaving his mouth that lyney gave you. The caring looks, the short, happy smiles, the purring that lynette gave you. You had no idea what that would mean in the future..

"The opera house? Sure let's go there later I just have to take care of something here first", lyney said, looking at the traveler with a smile.

Would you look at that.. it's not the same smile he gives you. You never noticed... He always treats you different from the travler somehow?? Not that you were jelaous but you never noticed this fact about lyney. Does he do this with all people? You wondered.

You all walked towards the aquabus. It was such a nice view from up here. The aquabuses looked so cool. Music was ringing through some speakers. You listened to it as you sat on the aquabus, waiting for it to move. The song was an interesting one. Yet sadly you couldn't understand the whole lyrics of it. But it went something like this:

… I'm sorry that I did this

The blood is on my hands

I stare at my reflection

I don't know who I am

Practice my confession

In case I take the stand

I'll say I learned my lesson

I'll be a better man

… I'm packing up my things

And I'm wiping down the walls

I'm rinsing off my clothes

And I'm walking through the halls

I did it all for her

So I felt nothing at all

I don't know what she'll say

So I'll ask her when she calls.

"Do you like this song?", lyney sat down next to you, blocking your view of the speakers. A warm smile on his face. You nodded, "It sounded good. I just wished I could've understood the lyrics some more but it echeos here so much haha", you giggeled, looking at lyney. He laughed to and pulled a card from his sleeve only to show it to you, "Sometimes the deeper you look the less enjoyable something gets my dear. Try to enjoy the song for the melody not for it's meaning. Happiness suits you better then a confused stare~", with that the magican threw the card into the air only to make a rose appeare. "Look what I have here for you~ So that what was hiding in my hat~", lyney gave the rose to you and smiled.

You paused as your eyes widened. Thanks to your boyfriend lyney you knew all cards and what the meant. Back then you couldn't have noticed but now.. the card that he showed you was a reversed magican! The reversed magician is a master of illusion. The magic that he performs is one of deception and trickery. You may be lured in by the showmanship of his arts, but behind that there may be an intention to manipulate for selfish gain...

Why did he show you this card? Has it something to do with the song you heard?

Looking at all the pictures of your photos together you still didn't think lyney was the murderer. Someone else must've framed him! You stood up as you walked outside of your teapot room, "lumine? I couldn't find anything either! I really don't think lyney would do such a thing you know!..", you sounded sad, upset. The traveler came to you to hug you, "We will prove your boyfriends innocence y/n! Don't worry okay?~", she smiled caressing your back. It has been almost 2 months since lyney and you were official dating. Yet it felt like two days since you two met. It is crazy. But you are so in love with him, your feelings for him were strong. So of course you would help him if he was accused of murder and had to stand trail! Lyney is a innocenct, good soul!

Or at least so you thought..

~ 💜 ~ The Trail ~ 💜 ~

You sit there, in the court, in the crowd, watching lyney's trail. Even if you just started dating not to long ago, you didn't believe a single thing that was said against him. Lyney was a kind soul, he would never do, such things! That was what you thought in the beginning of the trail. But now.. you weren't so sure anymore.. are you hurt? Is it the shock? You looked to your traveler friend, lumine. She seemed shocked as well, even more than you. For her it must be even worse than for you..

"Aren't you, mr lyney & you, mrs lynette both part of the house of the hearth?!", furina, the hydro archon just asked. A question that didn't really wanted to click in your head. Lyney? House of the hearth? Fatui? Bad person? There was so much going on in your head, yet your mind was completly blank. What did this mean?

After a few seconds you understood. You understood very well. But.. it has to be a missunderstanding right? Lyney would never..

"Answer my question mr. lyney!", the chief justice, nevieultte asked. Silence. You looked up to lyney, hoping to see a look of shock on his face. But there wasn't.. It looked more like.. guilt? Sadness? Maybe both? Clearly he feels bad that people think that way about him right? Poor lyney he really doesn't deserve this! "Yes your honor, it's the truth!", lyney answered with a serious look on his face.

Your breath stopped for seconds. The same words echoed in your mind. It is true? How did you never notice? Did he use you to get to know the traveler better? You looked up to your friend, lumine. She also looked down to you. Her face said it all.. hurt, disappointed, sad for you. But lumine quickly realised by just looking at you that you didn't know either.

Your heart hurted. Was it all just a lie? Maybe he never liked you.. it was all just a 'script' as furina put it? Actually you didn't know why you are so shocked. You kind of suspecte he hid something from you. You guessed right so why the hard feelings? The answer is simple really, because you are blinded by love. You fell right into his charm, into his trap, his illusion. Even now, your heart tells you it will be alright. He is a villain and? He murders people and? He is a liar and manipulator and? You still loved him! You always would no matter who he was or what he will become in the future. Caught in his charming web, no way of escape.

"Mr Lyney & Mrs Lynette are declared NOT GUILTY!!", finally the end of the trial was here. And you smiled, you were so happy. Even if lyney is a fatui at least he didn't hurt someone. Of course you still would ask for an explaination of him later! You still loved him after all, yet your trust issues are sending warn signals in your head through your whole body. Something still doesn't feel quiet right..

Looking up to lumine who just got ready to leave, you wondered, does she sense it too? Something is missing..

As trial ended you rushed over to your friend, lumine. She greated you with a soft hug and pats on the back. Oh.. she knew you were hurt. "Are you alright?", paimon asked, looking worried at you. You nodded while smiling softly, "It's going to be fine.. I'm sure lyney has his reasons! I want to hear his explainatiom first before jumping to conclusions!", you said towards your friends.

Not shortly after lyney & lynette ran after the traveler and you. It felt heartbreaking to see the way your friend acted towards the twins. Yet she had every reason to do so. After all she almost embarrassed herself infront of the hydro archon who maybe had information on her brother. Why would the hydro archon tell a criminals helper anything? Right?..

Still it hurted your soul to see the traveler leaving like that, "I'll see you later then!", lumine said to you as she left the opera house. So she DID sense it too! She knew something is off..

"Love, can we talk?", lyney asked you, sadness feeling his shaky voice. He is upset. The travelers reaction made him upset. The question is why.. because of his plans? Or does he really care?..

"Sure, where? Maybe somewhere more privat?", you asked with a gently smile towards the twins. "If it's okay.. would like to come back with us to.. um.. our home?", lyney asked, voice shaky, nervous. Is he scared you won't trust him? That you will say no? "Sure lyney let's go~", you smiled and nodded. There is a slim chance this could be a trap.. but oh well.. it's not like you couldn't fight yourself!

So you went back to the siblings house with them. "Sit down, would you like something to drink?", lyney asked with his usually cheerfull smile, but there was a pitch of sadness in his eyes. Sitting down on his bed you looked at him, "lyney why didn't you tell me?", you asked without taking your eyes from him. It was a honest question. Lyney held still in his movements and sighed, "I'm sorry.. I swear I wanted to! But the timing wasn't right.. I didn't want the traveler or you to hate me because I'm part of the fatui.. not all of us are bad..", lyney explained, looking at you with sorrow in his eyes. He looked upset. But was he upset over the 'script' failing or over their new found bound?

"I don't hate you lyney! I'm just.. upset why you didn't tell me sooner? I'll accept and love you no matter who you are or become!", you said, starting to tear up, "Tell me honestly.. was there a second motive involved as you and lynette approuched the traveler and me?", your voice was shaking as you asked what you feared most. The tears just started to overflow, running down your chin.

Lyney was lost for words. You were hurt and it ripped his heart apart. He never ment for things to be this way. All feelings for you were real and true! As for the traveller.. this was another story. But even if he explained it in detail to you, would you understand? Understand that he did all this just to protect his family, to give lynette finally the live she, no they deserved?! He didn't like the idea of beeing bad one bit. He loves to make people gasp in suprise and see their smiles and laughs. Hurting someone wasn't something he enjoyed, yet for his family he would go through with everything! Would you understand him? Stand by his side?

Lyney leaned in, pulling you in his arms and hugging you tightly. Trying to calm you down. "I know you have no reason to believe me. But all the words I said to YOU, all my feelings and actions for YOU, to YOU were real and came from heart. I showed you a part of me I usually keep hidden away.. the real lyney is a lot more complex and pathetic then the lyney on stage you know.. it's not something you just show everyone..", lyney whispered lost in thought, caressing with one hand gently over your back, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I was just so scared.. I'm scared of losing you. If you would give me the chance to explain how things came to be this way.. maybe you will understand the real lyney better?", it was a question to you.

You toke a deep breath while leaning against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. Suprisingly it was completly calm. Not a beat was off. Yet his body language spoke a different story. He looked scared, clenching his other hand in his lap to a fist, pressing his theeth together. He looked like he wanted to break down in tears but kept it under control. He hid everything away under this charm, under this cheerfull smiles. Taking his clenching hand in yours you looked up and smiled softly, "Thank you for telling me this lyney! I would love to get to know and love the real lyney, so would you please tell me more about you? I want to believe you! ", you said, kissing his hand with so much love as possible.

Lyney couldn't help but let out a gasp at your words. It felt like a huge burden was taken of off him. His heart was about to shatter in thousends of peaces. He loved you so so much, losing you would be like the sky would fall down, crushing every single shade of light amd hope underneath it. Without thinking he grabbed your hand, pulled you in his arms and hugged you tightly. "Thank you! I'll explain everything and I promise there won't be anymore secrets! I shall empty all my sleves and hat for you!", the magican said, his voice sounding a bit broken.

You hugged him back, gently caressing his back. Trying to calm him down. "I'm listening love~", you whispered, waiting for him to explain. For him to state his reasoning. For him to finally be a step closer to be himself around you. "It all started as lynette and I were still kids. Our parents died as we both were very young..", lyney started. You could tell it wasn't easy for him to talk about this. His breath grew heavier, voice slightly shaking. You toke both his hands in yours as you kissed them gently, "Don't force yourself if you're not ready! Today was a lot going on, we can talk another time love!", you said, worried for your boyfriend. As much as you wanted tl know the truth, your boyfriend's health mattered more to you. "No! I want to tell you this, I want you to understand that I'm not a bad person! J-Just give me some time please..", lyney snapped but sighed right after. He was different. Completly different from the 'lyney' you knew. Or you thought yiu knew. You just nodded and holding his hands in yours, waiting.

After a while lyney continued talking, "Because of our parent's death we were forced to live on the streets. I hated it! Our live was cursed. If it would just be me.. I couldn't have cared less but lynette didn't deserve such a live! It was disgusting, dangerous and I tried everything to get us out of this situation. So we leaned a few magic tricks we saw on the street, it wasn't anything special but it brought us some mora and some reason to live on. But it was far from good. One day a..", lyney stopped, shwalloed hard, clenching his fist, "a noble man came to us. He 'adopted' us, saying we were so talented. In the beginning I thought of it as a blessing. But.. it wasn't. Just another curse that was laid up on us! This noble man brought me to many different partys, festivals, just to grow his power, his social circle. And what better way as to use a young, 'handsome' and talented boy.. Tch!!..", the magican's eyes filled with rage. The grew darker in color and were filled with pure hatred. You never had seen your boyfriend like this.

"Lyney, it's in the past. You are here with me now!", you spoke in a soft voice, kissing his hands while looking at him. Seeing how his gaze grew softer right away. After a few minutes of silence he continued, "He forced me to peform magic on every party, mostly with lynette as my assistent, but more often I started to perform by myself.. he forced me to..", another sign that it was difficult to talk about this situation, your boyfriend sighed and continued, "I shouldn't tell you this. It's horrible but.. you have the right to know as my girlfriend. It will shock you a bit.. and I don't know if you will still like me after this.. so please get ready..", the magican said, hesitating a bit. He looked at the ground, hair falling over his eyes, so you couldn't see him tearing up.

What happened to him? You started to grow upset, thinking to ask your traveler companien, lumine to go and find this man. You know, just paying a visit, saying hello. How dare he make your boyfriend so upset? You sat up, moved out of lyneys arms as you placed your own around him. Pressing him to your chest, caressing his back gently, "Lyney no matter what you tell me it won't change a thing! It is the past! I won't leave you! So if you want to tell me, don't be afraid okay?", you whispered in a sad, warm voice.

Hearing those words meant so much to the magican. "Fine.. Thank you..", lyney continued speaking, "The noble man forced me to perform alone, drink with guests, wear clothes in ways.. that.. were not common for children. He forced me to sleep with rich women, man.. He teached me how to manipulate people.. As a child I thought I had to push through it, just so that lynette had a better live. Later on I started to realise how bad this all was. That it wasn't normal.. The snapping point was as lynette wasn't with me at all. I waited for her back at home but she never came. As I went to ask the noble man where my sister was.. he said... he said.. that one of the man at the party liked her and so he send her over to him as a gift..", lyney finished, his hands shaking, taking deep breathes.

Blood lust, rage, hate. You could feel it. It filled the room. Your own hands were cold, your heart beating fast. What kind of sick jerk?!! You really needed to talk to lumine about this! This bastard will pay!! That was your thoughts, yet you just bit your lip and hugging lyney thighter, kissing his hands.

"Stop this!", lyney all of sudden said. Holding in your tracks you looked shocked. Pulling away from him, "Oh okay.. I'm sorry!", you said a bit sad but worried. He must be very traumatized, you should leave him a bit, you thought. "N-No! Stop beeing angry for me! I can feel it.. the anger. Please don't feel angry.. like you said it's in the past and the noble is already dead!", lyney said, pulling you back into his arms. Making you fall on his lap, you blushed as you tried to sit up. Yet no chance since the magican held you close to him as he continued, "I ran after lynette, storming into the house of the noble. But as I arrived there the noble man was already dead. Father, the knave, arlecchino killed him. Father saved us. Also saving all the other young girls that were found in the basement! Lnyette didn't come to any harm. After this arlecchino made a deal with me, I could live happily with my family in order to follow her. Betrayal shall not happen and everyone would be treated as important. We shall get our freedom back.. I wasn't sure back then, after all I was just betrayed but.. father saved lynette so.. I ended up agreeing. Everything I do, have done is just for my family!.. Even tho I'm with the fatui at the end of the day I'm still just a brother who wants to protect his sister.." , lyney finished, sighing, looking to you. His eyes grew wide and he suddenly regreted telling you all of this.

You sat there listening to all of it, your heart was clenching in pain. It hurt. You loved lyney and lynette so much. You were hurt for them. What did they do to deserve this? Your hands were cold and shaking, tears running down your cheeks, biting your lip to stay quiet.

"Love.. please don't cry! I can't stand this hurt expression on your face! Look I'm all fine now, lynette is fine too. We have visions now and can protect ourselves! Besides.. we have you!", the magican whispered with a soft smile on his face. A caring smile, a real smile.. his real smile. Your heart jumped, yet you cried even more. Lyney finally for the first time showed you his real smile! This meant so much to you!

"Aghhh.. love.. please stop crying mhh? Look I'll show you something fun!", lyney said, grabbing his cards from the table next to him. "Pull one card! Doesn't matter which one!", lyney said, holding a few card in his hand. You giggled and pulled one, "It does matter does it? Fine I did and now?", you asked rubbing your tears away with the other hand, trying to calm yourself down. "Hold your card so that I can't see it, only you!", lyney said.

You did what he told you. "Now I want you to put this card, without me seeing it back into my hand okay?", your boyfriend said, holding his cards still in the hand. After you followed his request, he shambled the cards, "Now I'll mix them, I'll have no idea what you card was of course. But let my mind read yours, I'll pull your card out of this mixed card deck in a moment! Ready?~", he continued. You looked interested and curious as you nodded. "Is THIS your card?", lyney asked, pulling a card out of his deck. You pouted and giggeled, "Your mind trick didn't work lyney, this isn't my card". "Ohh... I see I wonder where it's hiding then? Mhh.. Oh I can see it clearly in my mind! Love, would you please check under the pillow next to you?", the magican pointed next to you. As you lifted the pillow and your card was underneath it you gapsed, "Noo wayy..". "Ahh see there it was hiding! And was this your card?", lyney smirked, taking back his card. You clapped your hands in excitement, "Yes!! This was amazing! You're so cool lyney!", you giggeld, hugging your boyfriend tightly. "And I'm glad you stopped crying y/n~", lyney smiled, caressing over your cheek.

"From now on I promise YOU, I'll try to be more like my real self and I'll always be honest with YOU!", lyney said, looking into your eyes. You smiled and leaned in to gently place your lips on his, "I know love! I forgive you and I believe you~", you said, kissing him again. Even if you still felt like you overlooked something, like something was missing you quickly dismissed it as he pushed you down on his bed. Kissing you deeper, caging you in between his arms, him now towering above you. The kiss continued until you both were barely able to breath. Then you parted to catch your breath. Your mind was blank, was lyney always such a good kisser? You couldn't remember. As you looked into his eyes all you saw was pure love, his cheeks were red, softly blushing. But his usually smile was gone, he just looked so cold. His eyes spoke another story..

"This is the real me.. without mask, without cheerfull smiles, without many words.. do I make you uncomfortable beeing like this?", lyney asked, looking into your eyes, watching out for any sign of discomfort. "No! You don't lyney! I'm curious to see more of the real you. I'll accept you for who you are, who you want to be!", you stated, hands reaching up to his face, just to cup his cheeks and squish them softly. A smile found it's way to lyney's lips. Soon after it disappeared again as he looked away with a sigh, "Thank you love. That means the world to me! But.. you maybe forgive me but will the traveler ever?..", the magican asked. He looked clearly upset. A sigh left your mouth. Even if you knew lumine pretty well you had no idea what to say. Giving information on her wouldn't do good.

"See.. like I understood your reasons, you have to understand that the traveler has been through a lot too. There is a good amount of bad history between the traveler and the fatui! Giving it's mostly fatui habringers that caused trouble and I'm sure the traveler knows that, eventually not all fatui members are the same. Yet we saw a lot, someone who used their own people as their doorstep, someone who kicked our dear friend brutally in the stomatch, someone who would gladly sacrifice any person along their way of power, someone who threw a whole nation into chaos and tried to drown it, someone who sold delusion illegaly and killed a got friend of ours, a psychopath who kinapped children, expieremented on them and drugged them.. these people were all fatui members. The traveler has been betrayed, hurt, got used so many times.. She probably just snapped..", you explained, looking at lyney. Another sigh left his lips, now looking back at you, "And you? You were there with her! Yet you forgive me? You saw those things too?!", he looked so hurt as he asked this. A smile came to your face, "Because thats the real me! I am me! I am my own person! And the traveler is their own person! The traveler maybe can't forgive you.. but I can! Because I am me!~", you said, looking into his eyes.

(Nsfw starts here~ )

Before you knew it lyney hugged you tightly, hiding his face in your neck, "Y-You can't just say things like this ma cherie~~", the magican stuttert. He got shy right there. Not expecting such an honest answer. Once again you suprised him, proving everything he thought he knew about you wrong. Throwing his mind reading skills under the aquabus. You really were something, he smirked in your neck. If you wouldn't be his girlfriend already he would've asked you to be his again. How much he loved you was actually insane. But that wasn't enough. Kissing and holding you close wasn't enough anymore. Lyney wanted you completly all to himself, he wanted you to be marked as his! Without thinking he leaned hin and sucked on your neck. Leaving a hickey. Then another one, and another one. He continued till your whole neck and shoulders were covered in hickeys and lovebites. Leaning back, panting heavy while admiring his work.

"Please let me show you how much I love you! Let me give you all the pleasure you deserve! Will you let let me take it a few steps further in our realtionship ma cherie?", your boyfriend asked you, serious look on his face, his cheeks called him out tho. He was so embarrassed to ask this. But he needed to know! You blushed yourself, heart beating fast, were you really about to do it? It's not like you were a virgin but thinking about doing such things with your boyfriend, lyney made you feel like one. You had dreamt about situation's like this.. might touched yourself to the thoughts of him taking you. But now, that it's about to become reality, you were actually a bit nervous. You wanted him obviously and you tried to say that but you just opened and closed your mouth like a fish on land. Heart beating out of your chest.

"I'm sorry love.. I got ahead of myself haha~ With your charming looking self it's really hard not to! Forget it ma cherie~ i just-", lyney stuttered, laughed akwardly and wanted to sit up. Noo you were silent for to long!! Aghh, you cursed at yourself inside your mind. The smile.. it looked fake. It was interesting how just now you saw the difference. He is back to his fake-self. Quickly you grabbed lyneys arm to pull him back on top of you as you yelled, "PLEASE FUCK ME!!", in his face above you.

A moment later you let out a loud gasp, holding your hand infront of your mouth. Why did you say it like that? Oh man.. what an embarrassement.. Hiding your face in your hands you waited for his reaction.

Lyney felt disgusting. You both had such an emotional moment and here he was.. semi hard under his pants, mind filled with unholy, sinfull thoughts of you laying under him. Obsessed with the idea to make you completly his. After you didn't answer he felt horrible. Was he about to become like the people he hated the most? Driven by their own sexuell desire not caring about others. He didn't want to be like. But these thoughts were lost the moment you pulled him back, saying the three magic words he never thought would hear from you. Lyney wasn't innocenct, he heard those words a lot, even if most are connected with bad memorys. But hearing you say those words was different! His cock twichted in his pants, only growing in size, geting harder. Damn.. you shouldn't have said that! A chuckle left the magican as he leaned down, stopping right infront of your lips, "Are you sure you can handle me?~", he said with a teasing smirk on his lips.

You held your breath has lyney leaned in, blushing hardly at his words. This damn tease..

"Why don't you test it out? I want all of you!~", you smirked back at him, just to laugh at his shy expression. He wasn't expecting that. Usually you were always the one blushing and he loved it. But now.. look who also has another side towards themselves?

Lyney chuckled and leaned in to kiss you deeply, caressing with one of his hands through your hair, "Then don't mind if I do show you the stars a bit closer tonight~", he whispered against your lips. Kissing you deeply, his tongue playing with yours. You couldn't help but to give in. Enjoying it, enjoying his sweet whisperes of compliments on your skin, against your lips. The room felt hot, yet you were so wet. Rubbing your thighs against each other while the whole make-out session happened. Lyney caressed his hands over your body, massaging all your sensetive spots. One hand of his moved under your shirt, playing with your breats while still kissing you.

You panted heavily into the kiss, nippels growing hard under his gentle touch. It felt so good. The magican pulled away, looking at you with lustfull eyes, "May I reveal your beauty to my eyes?", tugging on your shirt, he asked. You quickly nodded, lifting your arms up. One second later your shirt and bra layed somewhere forgotten on the room's floor. Lyney massaged your breats, playing with your hard nippels. Twirling them a bit,without hurting you. Curious over your reaction he leaned his head down, sucking on one of your already sensetive nippels. A smirk covered his face as you let out a loud moan. Suprised at the sudden pleasure overcoming your body. With his other hand he circled one finger around your nippel, but not touching were you wanted it to. While his tongue played and sucked on your nippel, you rubbed your thighs together. You were so wet already. Moaning and panting you had closed your eyes.

You opened them just as quick again. You were about to cum. "Ahh- l-lyney I-", you were trying to warn him. But the magican just hummed in knowledge and continued to suck. Taking his finger and gently flicking your other nippel, while sucking on the other you came. Moaning his name out loud, legs shaking. Cumming in your underwear. Lyney continued for a while before stopping as you calmed down a bit. "Did it feel that good? Ohh~ I must be really talented then with my mouth~ OOR.. could it be that I turn you on this much?~", a proud smirk covered his face. While still catching your breath you answered, "B-Both!", and sat up, pushing him to lay back on his bed. Climbing over him, sitting on his lap. "Would it be alright to take this off?", you asked, pulling on his bow and his clothes.

Suprised lyney leaned back, the view was great he had to admit. Maybe he should let you ride him next time, he thought to himself. Your question made him blush, his ears heating up, cock twitching im his pants. "Take everything off I don't mind~", he answered, smug as always. His heartbeat wasn't smug at all tho. Beating fast. You giggled and nodded, "Fine remember you allowed me too!~", you teased back. Your curiosity got the better of you and you couldn't wait to see your most beautiful boyfriend in his whole glory.

Taking off all of his clothes, just leaving him in his boxers you blushed. Damn he looked fine. You caressed over his chest, without thinking much leaning down, starting to kiss his chest, his shoulders, his arms, down to his stomatch, kissing his neck, leaving hickeys and lovebites everywhere. "Now everyone will know that the great magican lyney is taken~", you smirked, mostly to yourself, beeing proud. Lyney laughed, panting, with one hand gently caressing your head. "Let me return the pleasure to you", you smiled as you carefully removed his boxers. Gasping in suprise as his rock-hard cock jumped out, standing up all angry. A cute whine escaped the magican. Fuck, he had imagined you doing this for the longest time. He couldn't believe this moment was real.

Taking his cock in your mouth, filling up your throat as much as possible with his length. Taking it all in until your face met his hips. "Mghhh.. you're soo bighh~", you mumbled, mouth stuffed with him. Then you started slowly moving your head up and down, licking the tip with your tongue. Going faster after a while. Lyney could swear he was this close already. You were just so hot. You drove him insane. "Love, d-don't ahh- say those things! I-I aghh~ might lose control!", he whimpered out, holding on to the sheeds.

His cock twitching in your mouth. Was he close already? You moved your head faster, sucking harder. One hand caressing over his thighs, finding his full balls, massaging them gently. "Cumf in my mouthh~", you mumbled. Hearing him whine and whimper made you wet again. Feeling your clit throbb at the dirty sounds. "C-Cumming!! Nghh-", a second later your boyfriend, thrusted up in your mouth, leting out a grunt with a whine after. His hips jerking a bit, eyes closed while moaning your name in a dreamy voice. Cumming all into your mouth. There was so much. Without missing a beat you shwalloed his seed completly. Before you let go of him and pulled away, catching your breath.

The magican looked down at you, grabbing your arm, pulling you up in his arms to kiss you. A kiss full with love. "You did so well for me ma cherie~ Please let me taste you too?~", he asked into the kiss, licking over your lips. As you nodded he looked at you, "Sit down then~", he gestured to his face, laying on his back on the bed. A gasp left you at his idea, "A-Are you sure? I might be.. heavy..", you asked worried to hurt him. "Don't underestimate me! Sit down my love~", lyney said, looking serious at you. He really meant it.

With a nod you removed the rest of your clothes. You both were completly bare now. You crawled over him on the bed. Kneeling over his head. Your face all red, shy because you felt exposed like this. "What a great view ma cherie, lucky only I can see this everyday~", he whispered, caressing his hands over your ass. Massaging your ass while starring at your dripping wet cunt. You were so beautiful he could look at every part of you forever. What a perfect view but the show must go on so he leaned in, breathing against your cunt. Chuckling as you whimpered under his touch. Giving your slit a teasing lick with his tongue. But that wasn't nearly enough. "Sit down love~" he said to you, pointing on his face. Still kneeling over him you let yourself down on his mouth a bit more. "I said SIT!!", the magican grabbed your hips, pulling you down on his face, grabbing you tighs and holding you there. Holy shit! His voice changed tune completly. No, not only his voice, his entire aura was different! Fatui lyney is here and long may he stay..

A few minutes later and you came already twice. Lyney fucked his tongue into your hole, swirling it around inside, hitting all the right places. Then moving out, flicking your clit with his tongue. And repeat. It's like he couldn't get enough of your taste, your moans, your shaking legs. He was obsessed, with you! Tears running down your face, you grabbed the headboad as you leaned your head against it. Having not enough strengh anymore to hold yourself up. "C-Cumming again!! Nghh- lyney I'm.. cumming again!!!", you moaned, throwing your head back. The magican was unbothered, his pace growing faster, "Then cum!! Give it to me!", he ordered.

"AGHH L-LYNEEYY!!", you screamed his name, cumming into his mouth for the third time this night. Licking all of it clean, lyney removed his tongue from inside you. He smirked, happy with his actions, before geting an idea. He wasn't done with you yet! Just as you were about to catch your breath, he pushed two fingers into your hole, "You are still so tight ma cherie~ How will I fit my big cock in there mhh?~", he teased, smirking to himself as he started thrusting the fingers in and out of your used cunt. "T-To much-", you whined, moaning, yet moving your hips with his fingers. It felt so good but you were so sensetive that you coudln't help but to cry out. Not that you wanted him to stop, if anything you wanted him to go deeper!

"Mhh.. you are a bad liar ma cherie~ I saw the way you looked at my fingers all day, how you clenched your thighs together. I saw the way your eyes wandered over my back, my thighs. You eye-fucked me since the day we first met at the habor. So don't tell me it's 'to much'!", lyney looked up to you with a proud, teasing smirk. And you knew he was right. "M-More please.. lyney I want more~", you looked down at him, moving your hips faster. "That's my girl!~", the magican said. Fingers thrusting deeper, pace growing faster. You moaned his name loudly, eyes rolling over as you let out a loud yelp. What was that? Your head was spinning for a moment, it felt so good. "Ohh?~ Ma cherie let me show you a magic trick! In a second a waterfall will appear infront of our eyes, are you ready?~", lyney had this grin on his face that spelled trouble, yet you were to far gone already to realise that. "S-show mee ahh~~", you moaned, continueing to ride his fingers.

A twist of lyndys hand, currling of the two fingers. You felt how his fingers pulled all the way out, you whined at the lose of his touch. "Now watch closely love~", lyney said as he snapped his finger with the other hand. Trusting two fingers at once, full spead against your sweetspoat deep inside your cunt. While with the other hand he gently flicked your clit once. You didn't even know what was happening to you. Throwing your head forward, your mind became empty. A loud scream left you, you had lost all control over your body. Legs shaking like crazy, you squirted. All over lyndys face, all over the bed and all over your thighs. Panting heavily while holding on to the headboard. "Look at you~ I should make you my apprentice! You learn so quickly how to put on a great show~", lyney chuckled, removing his fingers from inside you, licking everything clean.

Still trying to calm down and geting your brain to function again you slowly opened your teary eyes. Did you just squirt? You never did that before.. oh wow!! "Mhh~ you taste so delicious, I want more ma cherie~", the magican under you mumbled. Pushing his tongue back into your still dripping cunt. Cleaning every last drop of you. Eating you out again. "Aghh!! L-lyn- aghj~ wait!! S-Still sensetivee~", you yelped, trying to push his head away. But lyney was having none of it, grabbing your thighs to hold you down, over his face, till he was finished. There was nothing you could do besides sit down and enjoy.

"Mhh~~ That was delicious~ This gave me an idea for my next show! The audience in the opera house would love your performance for sure! Maybe you will let me do this next time as our final act mhh?~", the magican grinned up at you from between your legs, gently helping you to lay down on the bed. Beeing so fucked out as you were right now you didn't even understand half of what he was saying, so just nodded. A chuckle left the magican. His cock throbbing in pain. "I'm sorry ma cherie, but I'm afraid I can't hold back anymore. May I show you a part of the real lyney or would it be to soon? You might.. not like this side of me..", the magican still was nervous. Hearing his voice drop into a bit of sadness, made you snap out of your lust-space. You took his hand in yours and kissed it gently, "You can go rough with me you know? I'm not made out of glas! I won't shatter easily! Besides.. i trust you lyney! No matter which you, I trust you!", you smiled, voice slightly cracking here and there.

With that the cheerfull glow in lyneys eyes was gone. The magical, charming self disappeared. As you looked up and looked into his eyes you got shocked for a second. This was new. His eyes seemed much more intimidating, much colder but not in a bad way. Just more serious. This lyney stared at you like you were his prey. A target he had layed his eyes on for a while. It felt like he could read your mind, see through your soul.

"Thank you y/n! For putting faith into my hands. Did I ever tell you how much I wanted you too see this side of me. But I was a coward. Like always, playing my games, hiding behind a mask. I really hope you'll still love me like this. I know I love you so much I can't put it into words!", lyney said, caressing with one hand through hair before leaning over you to kiss you on the lips. It was a deep kiss. You just smiled at him before returing the kiss. In your eyes there wasn't much difference. He still was your lyney! The one you loved!

"Spread your legs for me! I can't wait any longer. Let me stuff you full of my love! Let me make you mine!~", he whispered against your ear, caressing over your thighs. Kneeling above you he helped you spreading your legs, giving him the most beautiful view he so adored. "P-Please lyney! I wanna be yours~", you blushed at his confession and whined for his touch. For his love.

The bed made a 'thumb' noice as it was pushed forward against the wall. Lyney thrusted his whole cock into you in one go. Making you gasp loudly, clawing into his back. "You take me so well! You can be as loud as you like, let the others hear that I finally made you mine. Let the others know that I stole your heart. I want to hear you scream my name!", the magican said in between hard thrusts. Your mouth stood open, the pleasure was to much. You felt so full, walls strechted around his big cock. Threwing your head back with every thrust, biting your lip. Embarrassed that someone would hear you.

"Are you disobeying me? I told you-", lyney's voice got darker, grabbing your chin to have you look at him. "SCREAM-MY-NAME!", the fatui member said, thrusting hard into you with every word. Hitting your cervix over and over again. "Could it be that you have lost your voice? Huh.. what a pathetic whore! Here I thought so highly of you, wanting to make you my apprentice but actually with that dumb look on your face, making you my plaything sounds like a better use for you!", the fatui member whispered in your ear, biting into it. His thrusts geting deeper. "Still not screaming? Mhh.. I guess you leave me no other choice but to punish you..", lyney said as he leaned himself up. Snipping his fingers he suddenly held two clips in his hands. "Hold still otherwise it will hurt you!", he warned, thrusting deep into before staying still inside you. Putting one clip on your nipple, while he put the other on your clit. "There you go! Am I not nice my love? This will help you cum more quickly!", the fatui members smirked, pulling on the clip, making you whimper and moan.

Tears were running down your face. Your whole body felt so turned on. You felt so good. It was a bit painful but a few seconds later you wanted to cum so badly. This lyney was so mean but you loved it. It was so attractive and hot to you. As lyney picked up his fast, deep thrusts again you lost all sanity. Not caring about your noices anymore. Fuck it if someone heard you!

Lyney fucked you hard and fast, pulling on your clips, switching in between them. You screamed his name, cumming over and over again. Voice horse from all the screaming. "What a good whore you are for me! Finally obeying your master. I'm gonna cum soon! Gonna fill your slutty hole up with my seed!", the fatui members groweld, grabbing your thighs to push them up against your chest. Making sure his load would go deep inside of your womb.

You could only lay there and moan, whimper, scream and cum again and again. You were such a lovely mess for this member of the house of the hearth. Such a whore for this fatui member. So in love with the great magican. So obsessed with lyney. "P-please fill me up!! Want to you be yours!!", you moaned, whined. Not even sure if he was able to understand you in between the skin clapping and his own loud moans and whimpers.

"C-Cumming!!", lyney growled, thrusting deep into your cunt, all the way inside and stayed still. Warm liquide filled your cunt, your womb. You threw your head back, moaning. Lyney's cock twitched for a while, more of his seed coming out. Lyney pulled out after catching his breath, admiring his work. You looked so fucked out, so far gone. And he loved it. Within seconds his cock grew hard again.

"I'm not done yet!", he said, grabbing your arm and turning you around, to lay on your stomatch. The clips pressing into your sensetive spots. Making you hiss through your lips. "You are so attractiv love~ Your ass looks so fuckable. But for our first time this would be a bit to much right? So just let me fuck you from behind yes?", lyney chuckled, giving your ass a gentle clap. Pushing a pillow under your thighs.

His comment made you blush. A whine escaped you, a bit sad you wouldn't be able to do that today. But that was quickly forgotten as he pressed his cock, which was already hard again, into your cunt. Kneeling over you, behind you the fatui member watched as his cock disappeared in your needy hole. His hands, gloves still on, grabbing your ass. Massaging it, before thrusting all the way into you. Gently he spread your ass cheeks apart, revealling your other hole to his curious eyes. Shortly he was thinking off making you completly his today. Touching every part of you. But no, he had to be patient! He shouldn't overwhelm you! But.. that doesn't mean he couldn't use a bit of magic to please his curiosity!

"My my love, you don't get enough of me do you? Wanting me so much, even your other unused hole is clenching around nothing. You really want to be my plaything huh? Then let me gave you a taste what it's like. I wonder how much you can handle and how long you would last~", lyney whispered, teasingly smacking your ass. Before holding his hand infront of your face. "Remove my glove for me will you?", he asked. After you did what he asked of you he placed the glove under the pillow by your head. A snip of his finger. The light flickered before it turned of completly.

You got scared, about to ask what just happened. The next moment the light on the bedside table turned on gain. "Now check for me under the pillow infront of you will you?", lyney said with a smirk. So you did, removing the pillow with shaky hands. Revealling a vibrator in the same size as his dick. Your eyes widened, how did he do that??

"Ahh perfect! Let me take this~", lyney said, leaning over you to grab the toy. In the meantime pushing his cock deeper in you, grinding into you sweetspot, teasing you. Slowly grabing the toy as an excuse to mess with your insides. Slowly grinding his hips, circeling them a bit. Making you whimper and moan. Hands grabing the bed sheets.

"L-Lyney.. p-please", you whined, with teary eyes. This made the fatui member chuckle, "wrong title", he said, continueing to tease you. You moaned and throw your head back. Realising what he wanted. You blushed heavily. God damn.. this man.. he drives you insane! "M-Master please~", you asked, whimpered. "What a good whore you are! Your master shall continue the show now!", lyney said, leaning back as he sat up. Taking one finger and gently pushing it in your ass. "Your so tight. Tell me love, are you a virgin here? No harm done if not, just curious~", the fatui member asked, biting his lip at the thought. You moaned, hiding your face in the bed. "W-Why do you have to ask such an embarrassing ques-", you whined but got cut off by your own moan. Lyney pushed in a second finger already. Moving them a bit in and out. Not long till he added a third finger.

Out

Then a laugh left him. Taking his fingers out of your ass. Grabing the vibrator instead, turning it on. You were embarrassed and confused so you wanted to ask what was so funny. Yet again this question got stuck in your throat. Lyney pushed the moving vibrator into your ass in one go. Thrusting it in as far as possible. A loud scream left you, making your cunt clench around his cock. Your mouth standing open in silent moans.

"What a dirty girl~ Already used everywhere!But don't worry, I'll be the last one to use all of your holes. After all you are mine now!~", the fatui member growledy thrusting his cock deep into you. Continueing his pace from before. Your screams, the wet sounds of your holes and the bed slamming up against the wall turned him on even more. "Even if you would try to fuck someone else.. I'll be the only one that comes into your mind! You will always beg for my cock, for my love, because no one can please you as much as I can!", lyney growled, sweat forming on his forhead. His cock twichted at the thought of you begging him to fuck you over and over again. It drove him wild.

You screamed so loud as you came that the whole fontain nation had heard you. Waking up celestia with your crys of pleasure. Not beeing able to think at all anymore, you were so gone. About to pass out actually. Lyney let out a whine, "I'm about to cum! Fill you up again! I'll make you mine! Then you will stay with me forever! With us forever! Take all of me so you will always be on my side ma cherie!~", lyney moaned, mumbled, while leaving hickeys all over your back.

A loud smack was heard, his hips pressing all the way into your ass, pushing the vibrator deeper into you while pressing your back into the matress. His hot cum filling you up. Your head was spinning, not even knowing what he all said in the end. For sure nothing important just how good he felt.

"Je t'aime~", lyney whispered as he kissed your neck gently. Pulling out of you. Taking the vibrator out, turning it off and removing the clips. Laying it down on his table next to the bed. The sparkle of magic and charm slowly returned to his eyes. The magican carefully turned you around, laying down next to you, so he could lay you on his chest. "I'm sorry love, did I hurt you? Do you need something?", lyney asked, voice calming and soft. You tried your best to stay awake and respond. "W-Water", you whispered, voice almost gone.

(Nsfw end! Aftercare here~ )

Lyney gave you a kiss to your forhead before geting dressed in his boxers and his shirt, "Alright love, please wait, I'll be back with water and something to clean you up", with that the magican left the room. Geting the said things for you.

As you were laying there, a complete mess, you realised just how bad this actually was. You are in love, totally obsessed and a total mess for this boy. Damn it all.. how would you explain lumine all of this? The marks all over your body were so obvious. It wasn't the first time this happened.. and it's not like she was a saint either. Buut.. this time it felt more difficult. Probably because lyney is part of the fatui! Aghh.. doesn't matter lumine is your best friend, she will understand! You smiled in thought, lumine always understood you so there wasn't anything to worry about.

A minute later lyney came back into the room with some water and a wet towel. "Ma cherie, are you still awake? I'm back, here is your water", you nodded, slowly sitting up. Taking the glas and quickly drinking all of it empty. That felt good! "Thank you", you smiled and leaned up to give lyney a kiss on the lips. "Let me help you clean up?", lyney asked. You only nodded. Letting him do the work.

After you were done the magican cuddled back to you in bed. Laying you on his chest, caressing through your hair. Before he knew it you were already fast asleep.

"Love?", he asked, not geting answer, he let his mask fall once again. A serious look appeared on his face as he looked out of the window, at the bright shining fullmoon. With one hand still caressing through your hair.

"I love you so much y/n, you don't understand. I never felt this way before for anyone! No one was more important to me than my sister. But since you appeared in my live you share that spot with lynette! I just want to protect you and keep you close. You are different from the traveler! You don't deserve to get involved into all of this bloody mess which is about to happen!", lyney whispered to himself, looking down at you. His eyes glowing brightly, only seeing you. He pulled out a card from under your hair. A fatui card.

As he flipped it in between his fingers, a frown rested on his lips, "Our identity's got revealed and it messed up our plan.. yet with father on the frontline's it should only be a minor issue! There will still be enough time to win the traveler's trust again.. after all we need her as a final failsave in our plan..", a dark aura surrounded the magican, eyes cold, emotionless. His face a frown. Before he felt you cuddling closer to him. Did you feel his mood swing? Could you hear him? No you couldn't. You were knocked out cold, just like he had planned. A small smile formed on his lips, "Sorry love, I shouldn't think about such dark things when I'm around you. After all you deserve to hear and see only good things", lyney smiled down at you, his smile growing warmer, emotion coming back into his eyes.

"Lucky father likes you, so you can stay with us! Don't worry my love, father made already all the plans for you to be save. Welcome to the house of hearth~", your boyfriend whispered, throwing the fatui card in the air. Shortly after the card turned into flower pattels, falling down on the ground next to him. As he leaned down to kiss your lips, he snapped his fingers one last time before also laying himself to sleep. The door of his room got locked. The curtain falling close over the windows. Leaving the room in the dark. Lyney took of his shirt and cuddled closer to you, holding close while singing his favorite song to you,

" … I'm sorry that I did this

The blood is on my hands

I stare at my reflection

I don't know who I am

Practice my confession

In case I take the stand

I'll say I learned my lesson

I'll be a better man

… I'm packing up my things

And I'm wiping down the walls

I'm rinsing off my clothes

And I'm walking through the halls

I did it all for her

So I felt nothing at all

I don't know what she'll say

So I'll ask her when she calls. ",

mumbling the last words, the magican also fell asleep.

~ ❤️ ~ Bonus ending ~ ❤️ ~

"Let's go try meeting the hydro archon again lumine!", paimon said to the traveler as they walked towards the opera house. Continueing their search for information. Wanting to find lumine's brother as soon as possible.

"Uhh.. where is y/n when you need her?", paimon sighed looking creeped out at the fontain. Lumine seemed to have heard voices again. What a creepy situation. "With y/n here, paimon feels much more save! Uhh.. not to say paimon doesn't feel save with you! It's just.. nevermind forget what paimon said hehe!", the floating friend akwardly laughed.

"Lumine.. aren't you worried about y/n at all? We both know the fatui can't be trusted..", paimon asks, looking worried at the traveler. "Don't worry paimon! She is for sure with lyney & lynette. Besides this is y/n we're talking about. She can handle it~", lumine smiled, holding a huge amount of trust and respect for you in her words. "Yeah.. you probably right! Paimon just hopes nothing bad happens to her..", your floating companien said. Lumine nodded and sighed, "I'll talk to her again tomorrow and warn her. Better save than sorry!", she said with a bit of worry in her voice. Something wasn't right. Lumine knew that. She could feel it in the air.

Suddenly all the lights around the two turned off. Paimon got scared and hides behind lumine. While the traveler pulled out her sword, ready to fight.

Clack. Clack. Clack...

Footsteps on the floor could be hard loud and clear. Then someone was clapping as the person walked out of darkness. Fatui jacket shining in the moonlight. A small smile met the traveler eyes.

"Perfect! The rumors do you justice, dear traveler. I didn't expect any less. What a wonderfull performance you put on!", a female voice spoke, sounding dangerous but also so charming. Lumine held her breath. That was..

"THE KNAVE?? What are you doing here? Traveler watch out! She is the 4th ranked fatui habringer!", paimon yelled, still hiding behind the traveler. "Oh did my sudden appearance suprise you this much? But wasn't it a forseen event that we would eventually run into each other? Well.. calm down! I'm not here to fight you or to get the gnosis! Not yet.. at least~", arlecchino spoke with a small smile on her face, raising both her arms in the fatui position before crossing them infront of her chest, "I'm simply here to breath a peace of advice to you~", she said. "Why should we listen to you?!", paimon asked, clearly upset. "Oh, you will listen to me. I made sure of this. After all you want to see your friend again right? Y/n? Was it?", arlecchino smirked, playing with her nails while waiting for an answer.

A gasp left paimon. Lumine put her sword away, putting both her hand on her hips while making an effort to listen, "Go ahead fatui! I'm listening!", she said, voice angry, upset, scared. Scared of losing another important person. "That's a wise move traveler! Your friend is save with us. Now for my adive-", the knave started but got cut off by paimon, "What did you do to y/n?!". Lumine looked clearly angry. Waiting for answer.

"Why? Nothing of course! Actually I took quiet the liking to her. She seemed like a very good 'friend', you may call it that. So no harm shall ever come to her!", arlecchino answered with a soft smile. "What are you planning knave?!", lumine asked, glaring at the women infront of her. Making the fatui habringer laugh, "Haha~ Aren't you cute?~ Mhh.. telling you much would ruin the plan. So let's say I'll borrow your friend for a while. Of course.. she can stay forever if that's what she wants! Your friend is very important to us! To the house of the hearth!", arlecchino answered, walking with every word closer to the traveler. Holding in her steps as she stood right infront of the traveler's face. Smiling down at her.

"You won't use her for your plan! I'll save her!", lumine yelled, pulling out her sword, pointing it against the knave's throat, "You best not provocate me knave!", the traveler whispered dangerously, her eyes glowing. Paimon floated a bit away, giving lumine the space to fight. Yet the knave grabbed the tip of the sharp sword in between her fingers and pressed it in her skin, drawing blood of her neck. Lumine let out a gasp, not expecting that, dropping her sword on the ground. A chuckle left arlecchino, grabbing the traveler's wrist pulling her closer, in the knave's arms. "You might not understand dear traveler. In our house everyone is family! Y/n belongs to that family. I see her as my daughter I'm very proud of. She can bring out lyney's true potenial! And that is very important to me, these kids need to survive for a better future! Even if I don't.. lyney will need to awake his true potential! So I support their lovely realtionship all the way. But.. do you dear traveler?", arlecchino whispered in the traveler's ear.

For a short while lumine was so hypnotisted by her voice that she completly forgot about everything. This women is dangerous! Lumine needed to warn you as soon as possible. This whole aura.. the knave's action. The charming voice. All of it.. it reminded the traveler on lyney. Damn it.. why didn't she realized it sooner?

'The knave' was never arlecchino! Arlecchino is the fatui habringers yes. But 'the knave' is a title made for someone else. Lyney was always the knave!! Lyney was arlecchino's shadow!! Her succesor!

~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~💜~❤️~

( Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed!~ ♡ )

#genshin lyney smut #lyney smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #lyney imagines #lyney x you #lyney x reader #lyney headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #lumine smut #arlechhino smut #mysinsforventi

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z3nitsusgf · 2 years

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proserpina

homelander x reader

CW: dark!soulmate au, possesive/obsessive behavior, stalking, yandere tenancies, fem reader, angst(?), homelander needs his own warning bruh

“You’ve seen his cynical mind, the possessive soul he bears, you know his cruelty knows no bounds. But at this moment, he is simply a broken man who craves your affection so desperately it’s almost pathetic.”

Proserpina (Roman mythology): Proserpina, daughter of Jupiter and Ceres, goddess of fertility, was kidnapped by Pluto, king of the underworld, who fell in love with her after seeing her picking flowers.

—

You remember the first time anyone, other than your parents, ever saw your soulmate mark.

You were 16, still hanging out with friends at the park like a normal kid. The new tattooed ink on your wrist was a mystifying wonder to everyone your age. The way it appears overnight, rising to the surface of your skin like a beautiful art piece. Everyone wanted to see each other’s marks and foolishly hope one of the other kids was theirs to call home.

Your parents told you not to show anyone, that it was… too much for them to handle.

“Let us see yours,” they said, crooked teeth and flushed dirty faces crowded your vision, you were all so young still. And of course, you smiled and showed them your arm, letting them crowd around and stare at your binding mark.

You remember the sliver of proudness that beamed in your chest at their awed silence. The way they gaped at the motherland eagle, the ridges of its wings, and the sharpness of its beak.

Anyone would recognize the symbol, even at your age, it was something that you could identify. Even though he was a newly formed hero, still on the brink of coming out from Vought, you all knew what it represented. Even though he was a bit older than you, even though he was a powerful fucking supe - you were proud in that moment.

You don’t exactly remember when, but sometime after that people started to look at you differently.

You weren’t you anymore, you were Homelander’s soulmate. A way to get in with their favorite superheroes, a way to get cash, a way to get attention.

Of course, you’ve seen him, everyone has seen him. He’s like Santa or Jesus, an integral part of America. It only got worse as you grew up. Especially once he became number one, it was like a flashbang - you were bombarded with this new wave of emotions and feelings every time you looked at his face on a screen. It wasn’t a welling of love or adoration, but something more acrid.

People always asked you what it was like being Homelander’s soulmate despite the fact you’d never actually met the guy. They were always in your face, blabbering about how lucky you were. Prodding with their questions as if they were a part of it all.

“That must be so exciting!” Or “You must be so happy to have Homelander as your soulmate!”

It was nauseating.

You grew up with his patriotic ass plastered on every billboard and poster in New York, his movies, his comics, his interviews - always on screen. You could recount his fucking life story and you’d never even met him. You were 110% sure no one asked Homelander what he thought about his soulmate.

Not to mention your parents, god, they couldn’t get enough of it. They were so fucking happy, so fucking ecstatic that you were Homelander’s soulmate. How much rep you’d get, how much screen time, the privileges they said. His name left everyone’s mouths like he was their god.

So why didn’t you feel the rush of excitement? Why did you feel dread and damnation creeping up your spine every time you turned on the TV and he was there?

Probably because you’ve seen the horror stories. The awful dailies on the news where a supe “accidentally” killed their soulmate. Gruesome scenes of split spines, shattered bones, piles of ash and guts. Of course, people always said you had nothing to worry about. It was Homelander, he’d never do anything like that. But you always felt the fear linger when he did public speeches.

Unfortunately for the world, Vought had made it their mission to find every supe’s soulmate and “unite” them as one.

It’s a bunch of corporate media bullshit.

But people want to see their favorite heroes in a humble light, settled down, and cozied up with their “one true love”. Of course, Vought wouldn’t miss an opportunity to milk it, snagging supe’s soulmates left and right like they’re just stray dogs on the street.

It was only a matter of time before they found you. To be honest, you’re surprised they haven’t gotten to you sooner, that they left you alone to lead a “normal” life. After all, you’re The Homelander’s soulmate - that means a lot more than you thought it ever could.

Though you suppose you didn’t make it easy for them. You never posted about it online, you refrained from telling new people that you met, and you tried to cover it up all the time.

But all it really takes is some nosey neighbor or ex-friend from high school to rat you out.

And suddenly you’re being dragged to the the Seven tower, hounded by Vought employees and a perky assistant who won’t shut the fuck up.

Alice? Amanda? No wait- Ashley, blabbers away to you about how fortunate they are that they found you. She’s chipper as a chipmunk, asking you all kinds of questions that make your skin crawl, tapping away at her screen like you’re just another product ready to be shipped out. Are you single? Do you have any kids? What’s your medical history? Religious preference? Who should we contact in case of an emergency?

“He’s going to be so happy! I know it’s gonna be great.” She practically squeals in excitement, gripping the tablet between her fingers as you two ride the elevator up to the 99th floor, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach.

She turns to you with a wide gummy smile, “Just make sure not to say anything bad or to upset him, ya know?”

You nod slowly lips pursing, “Like what?”

“Oh you know, asking for pictures or calling him anything other than Homelander or sir.”

You stare at her blankly, “Why would he be upset by that?”

She blanches just a bit, you see her look away. Probably thinking about every little thing that could go wrong. Huffing out a laugh she says, “Nothing, nevermind. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

The elevator doors open and you’re ushered into a hallway, making your way in front of a big iron door. Their conference room.

The assistant turns to give you one last forced smile before the iron is sliding open, inside is all of the seven, Homelander at the end of the table. It’s all more imposing than you thought it would be. The sunlight streams in through the big glass windows, reflecting against the mirrored V-shape table.

You see everyone in their full glory. A-train, Queen Maeve, and Starlight is to the right. To the left Black Noir, The Deep, and a pair of floating glasses - Translucent. Most of them don’t even pay you any mind, hardly even looking up at you and focusing their attention elsewhere. You feel as though you’ve interrupted something.

“Hi, good morning sir! I’ve brought her.” Ashley is flashing a bright smile, her hand pushing your lower back so you move closer to the supe.

Homelander gives a slow nod, rounding the edge of the table, his hands behind his back as his cape sways with each step. He’s much taller in real life, looming over you. You decide to just take the plunge, sticking out your slightly trembling hand,

“Hi Homelander, sir, I’m-”

He snatches your wrist, it scares you more than you’d like to admit and you have to force the shriek from your throat down. Eyes going wide as he holds your wrist between his forefingers. His gloved thumb brushes over you skin, pushing up the sleeve of your sweater to reveal your his mark, staring down at it with bright clear eyes. You feel the leather of his glove brushing over your skin, it makes a dark feeling punch your gut.

You’d think after all this time he’d be happy, that his signature bright shining smile would spread across his face, maybe he’d tell you how happy he was or how excited. Instead, his brows furrow and his jaw clenches.

“Are you a supe?” He mumbles, eyes roaming over your body with a piqued interest that borders on perturbed fascination. You shake your head,

“N-no, sir.” He makes a sound, deep in his chest and you wince at the tightening in your hand. You try to pull back but he doesn’t let go. Panic starts to ebb up your chest, settling into your blood. You feel trapped. He’s nothing like the charismatic friendly man you’ve seen in interviews.

Thick gloved fingers curl around the flesh of your wrist, pressing the carpal bone. He could snap your entire arm and shatter each bone with just a squeeze. Hell, he could leave you paralyzed just for fun. You feel your pulse starting to pick up, you’re entirely sure he can feel the rush of adrenaline and dopamine in your system.

You’ve seen what he’s capable of. When you had this fascination with him and you wanted to know more, you’ve seen the liveleak videos of him slaughtering people, melting them with his eyes till they were nothing but a pile of flesh and guts. You’ve read the reddit posts and forums about interactions people have had with him, his pretentious and snarky comments that made even government officials weep. It made you fucking sick.

So when he doesn’t let up, when he just stares like he wants to burn a hole though your head, you feel yourself ready to crumple and accept your fate. Maybe this was Vought’s plan all along, to bring you here to be disposed of. You let out a tiny whimper, you feel the bones starting to shift uneasily inside your wrist.

“Homelander.“ Queen Maeve warns, the rest of the seven watching in tempt silence, more amused than anything. There’s a beat of rigid silence and you’re positive he’s going to just snap it then and there. But the supe rolls his eyes and drops your wrist like hot garbage, practically throwing it back at your chest.

You cradle your hand, massaging the soft bruising tissue as you stare wide-eyed at him. He glared down at you, the disgust prominent in his baby blues but there’s also a hint of something else, you can’t place your finger on it but it makes you want to hide away in the earth.

“Fucking pathetic.” Homelander sneers, turning on his heel and walking to the large window that overlooks the city. You gape, pushing back the tears that threaten to overflow on your waterline, head spinning as you feel everyone stare at you. In pity? In disgust? You don’t really care anymore.

Homelander is your soulmate and he’s nothing like you imagined. He’s a loaded gun in your face, waiting for the trigger to be pulled at any second and blow your brains against the concrete.

“Well, that was lovely but,” Ashley is ushering you out the sliding iron doors with a peppy smile, “The seven are extremely busy, we should let them get back to work!”

The last thing you see is the group of supe’s sitting in their seats and Homelander has his back to them all.

Ashley walks with you down the long hallway, blabbering about how, “He was just in a bad mood, he’s actually really nice.”

But you can’t help but clench your jaw, your heart pounds in your chest and you feel as though you’ll sink into the ground at any second. The way he stared, the way he gripped your wrist, he didn’t feel like how you thought he would. There were no sparks or honey-sweet emotions, shit you at least thought he’d give you a smile.

The entire elevator ride down the peppy assistant is telling you how things will be from now on. It makes you wanna claw at your face.

“Oh, it’ll be so cute! Everyone is going to love you, I’m sure of it!” She’s so damn loud and snippy you want to smash your head on the mirrored edge of the elevator. She won’t shut up about PR, and how they’re going to manage your socials, and put you on the red carpet - right next to your soulmate.

You get this horrible vision of you standing next to him, getting bombarded by paparazzi and having to cuddle up with him for life. You almost throw up in the elevator.

“Can I go home?” You cut her off, not giving a damn if it’s rude or awkward.

She balks, gaping at you with wide eyes. She grips her tablet between chippy-painted fingers, you think for a moment she’ll tell you no and that you’re not allowed to leave. But she calms herself, biting the inside of your cheek and says, “Of course! A driver will take you home.”

“Nah, it’s alright,” The doors open and you’re already making your way out to the front entrance, “I’ll walk home.”

You live all the way in Brooklyn, but you don’t give a rats ass. You don’t give Ashley the chance to debate it, speed-walking out of Vought and onto the Manhattan sidewalk. A buzzing fills your ears, like flies droning in a bottle. You heave, clenching your fists so hard the nails dig into your palms. You have this horrible feeling you’re still being watched.

By the time you make it to your apartment it’s nighttime and you’re exhausted. You’ve ignored every call from your parents and friends, especially the unknown ID that you know is Vought. You try not the cry in the shower, gripping the edge of the bath and willing yourself to breathe evenly. Nothing happened yet, so why are you so upset?

The days don’t get any easier. You have this constant feeling that you’re watched, as if you’re under a microscope. You’re surprised Vought hasn’t kicked down your door yet. You still ignore their calls, trying to return to normalcy.

But you’re a fool to think you could ever rid yourself of him.

You swear you catch glimpses of him, wispy mirages of him in the corner of your eye. The flash of his cape or a glowing reflection in your window, it makes you like feel like the lining of your stomach is being lifted, pulled up and apart from your skin and peeled away from your body inside of you. It makes for something brutal - violent, punch through and shred at your gut.

You start noticing that all your friends are suddenly pulling away. Leaving you in the wind as they look at you with sad pitiful eyes, jumping away when you get too close. Some of them go missing entirely, you can’t outright accuse Homelander of anything - but you know he’s responsible.

He follows you everywhere like a shadow. A slinking ghost, that’s imbedded so deeply within your soul you can never rid yourself of him. Manifesting into this world, through pure unadulterated rage. Born from the deep bone marrow sorrow that exists within everyone. Gliding through this plane like a dreadful curse, seeping into your skin, hollowing out what little is left of you. Clinging like a leeched bastard, rows of teeth digging into faithful necks, marred from years of trusting.

Maybe the world is cruel. Giving you such a dangerous soulmate.

You rummage around your kitchen, hair still dripping down your nape from your shower and onto your soft PJ’s. People chatter and scuttle about outside, faint car horns and the buzz of tipped streetlights are your only source of comfort. You reach for a mug in your cabinet, you swear you hear a whooshing sound behind you, but when you turn to look nothing is there. You’re too jumpy, too nerve-wrecked and scared over nothing-

“Nice place.”

You let out a scream, the mug in your hands sliding out onto the tiled floor. It shatters around your bare feet and you spin around to see who’s inside your apartment. There stands the number one superhero in all of his glory, the suit a vivid contrast to your beige-colored walls. He’s here, just meandering through your apartment like it’s a walk in the park.

He gives a muted laugh at your reaction, his hands tucked behind his back and covered by the flag. The outline of him in the fluorescent kitchen light makes him look much more demeaning, more intimidating.

Homelander can hear your heartbeat, the heavy pumping against its fleshy walls as you tremble. You can’t walk backwards without stepping on glass, so you wait with a bated breath to see what he has to say. He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes and looking you up and down like you’re just a slab of meat on the deli counter, and to him you probably are. Nothing but a sack of flesh and bones, not even a supe capable enough to keep with him.

“Homelander- sir,” Always so respectful, even to a fault.

“I- what are you doing here.” You wish you could say you weren’t absolutely terrified of him. He’s the world’s greatest hero, your soulmate after all. Aren’t you supposed to feel the most connection with him? The safest?

You don’t. There’s something not right about the way he stares, like he can’t tell if he wants to crush your head between his palms or just crumple onto your couch like he owns the place.

“Dropped your cup there,” He completely ignores your question, stepping closer to you. You can hear the crunch of porcelain under his boots.

“Spooked ya did I?” You gulp, staring at the blue and red super suit, he’s got that signature smirk on his jaw that he projects onto the public. The fake grin he plasters on when he wants to appear friendly and charming.

How did he get into your apartment? Why is he in your apartment?

You gape at him, breath hitching as you stare at him under the glow of your shitty kitchen light. The shimmer of blonde starlight strands, his eyes nearly glowing like crystal.

“How did you-“

He steps forward, breaching your personal space and his hands unfurl from their position behind his back.

“Ya know, I think you and I got off on the wrong arm.” He says it jokingly like he didn’t subtly threaten to snap your wrist in front of the seven simply because you existed. That he didn't call you fucking pathetic when you first met.

He’s too close, almost chest to chest with you. You can smell his cologne, a woody musky scent, masculine through and through. You’re sure it’s some stupidly expensive type that the public can’t even get their hands on. The shattered shards of porcelain lay at your feet, and there’s no debate in your mind - you could never outrun him even if you tried.

“What do you want?”

His smile falters just a smidge, you could only tell if you stared hard enough at his mouth to see the edges twitch downward. He’s getting impatient with your apprehension, your refusal to see him.

"Ashley told me you refused to have a driver take you home and that you’ve been ignoring our calls.” He plasters on the fake grin like it’s nothing, like it’s an accessory. It’s meant to be disarming, but there’s a certain feral gleam to his features that makes you tense in uncertainty.

Fucking Ashley, of course she told him.

You swallow hard, you don’t know how to read him, you don’t know what will work with him yet. He’s untouchable and you’re a weak human.

“Yes, I did.”

“Why’s that?” He hums, hands coming out to glide up your biceps. It makes an unruly shiver spark up your spine. He revels in it, this power trip - it makes him want to flutter his eyes closed and inhale the scent of fear like a fucking dog. You’re not what he was expecting, you’re better.

“I just, just thought that-” You sputter and choke on your words, how are you supposed to tell him you don’t want any of this? That all you’re life you’ve felt like this was all some big joke, a cruel prank from the universe?

Your heart pounds in your chest, so hard it makes it ache and you think you’ll pass out from the tenseness around you.

His gloved palm comes up to cup around your jaw, thumb sweeping across your cheek. It’s meant to be comforting, sweet. But all you can think is how easy it would be for him to snap your neck.

“I can’t have my girl being unsafe, I just won’t allow that.”

You look up at him with wide glassy eyes, he can tell you’re petrified of him and he loves it.

“No more of this ‘I can do it myself’ shit, yeah? You’re gonna let me take care of you.” He says it so softly you’d almost blow past his demeaning comment, the small lifting smile on his face setting it in stone.

You nod, lip quivering as you realize the full scope of your situation. He knows you now, knows where you live, where you work - you’re never going to get away from him. He knows all of your family and friends, god.

You choke on a sob, trying so hard to bury it before he sees. Homelander shushes you, his hand giving you a warning squeeze. There’s barely any strength, any effort, put into it. You know what it means though. He inhales deeply, a sigh escaping his parted mouth and he looks down at you. Blown pupils engulfed in swirling, sparkling azure, so magnificent as it ebbs and flows with his amusement.

“You and I, we’re going to be something special.”

There’s something wrong with your soulmate.

You’d thought that because it was America’s greatest superhero, he’d be all the glorious bullshit you’d seen throughout your life, but he’s not. Homelander, John, whatever he is - isn’t normal. And you don’t mean in the “Wow he’s a supe he’s stronger than me!” kinda way, but he’s wrong, your connection is wrong, it doesn’t feel right.

It’s not like how your parents described it to you, with bursts of passionate color and emotions, blooming with this fire of love you can’t snuff out. No, it feels off, like you’ve been dropped in a pit of vipers waiting to strike, waiting for them to ball around your neck and ankles till you suffocate. An unease runs through you, slithering up your spine when he’s around.

He doesn’t try to appeal to you, he doesn’t try to hide it or cover it up. Why should he? You’re his soulmate.

Of course, he knows what it means. He has his own mark, annoyingly enough. The etched black ink on his wrist made him curl his lip in disgust, why did he need a soulmate? He was the fucking Homelander.

But he can’t help the flurry in his heart at the thought of this binding mark. Soulmates are more than just lovers, they’re your entire being, the people that know you to your core and still love you. Or at least, that was what Vought taught him growing up.

Even if you don’t love him now, you will soon enough. You will because he doesn’t know how to handle it if you don’t.

Homelander looks past the fact you’re not a supe, that can be changed. He’s enamored by you and your menial life, what did you even do before him? He wants to flood your entire existence until all you know is him.

Your life is steadily taken over, flipped, and ripped apart by your soulmate as he invades every inch of your small little being.

You don’t have an apartment anyone, you share one with him in the tower. You don’t eat alone, dress alone, sleep alone. You’re never by yourself anymore, he’s always hovering, even when he’s not around you’re guarded in the tower like a captured princess.

Homelander comes home to you everyday, sometimes he just talks and talks and talks. Making up for years of being apart. He asks you all types of questions, “What was your childhood like?” and “Did you ever fall in love before me?” All the while he mooches off you like some needy cat, you never thought he’d be the physical type, but you guess now it makes sense.

He comes home in a mood, unsurprisingly. Ranting and raving about government officials and his “stupid teammates”, throwing his gloves onto the couch as he slips his way onto your lap.

You’ve done nothing but ponder while he’s been away. Pushing around stupid little decorations in his apartment, arranging and rearranging them till you got sick. You try to make conversation with the others but they keep their distance.

Homelander doesn’t even ask before he’s laying his head on your lap, kicking his legs up and just muttering about his day. You’ve learned to just coddle him, knowing it’s better than him taking his stress out on you in other ways.

So you do what he craves, slipping your fingers through his hair and scratching lightly at his scalp, humming at his words and pretending you’re sympathetic to his worries.

“I’m sorry, you don’t deserve any of it.” You mumble, so numb to the feeling in your chest you think you almost believe it.

He sighs contently, “I know, it’s just- so hard. Everyone puts this weight on my shoulders and I can’t handle it.”

You frown, smoothing your palms over his cheek. There’s a bittersweetness on your tongue, words you know you shouldn’t say.

John preens under your hands, leaning into your hesitant touch with so much depraved neediness you nearly feel bad. You’ve never seen him look so… submissive. He's fragile-looking, with pursed lips and downcast eyes that refuse to look up at you. He rests there, head in your lap like a little boy. You card your fingers through the blonde strands, they’re soft for the most part but you can still feel the hair gel that coats them.

You’ve seen his cynical mind, the possessive soul he bears, you know his cruelty knows no bounds. But at this moment, he is simply a broken man who craves your affection so desperately it’s almost pathetic.

You’ve come to realize that he can’t take care of himself.

He’s vulnerable in a way. Homelander has no capacity to help himself, he’s been taken care of his entire life. By PR, damage control, the doctors in the lab, hell even Madelyn Stilwell. They’ve all written out what he should be and say, they’ve manufactured him since the day he was born. You guess you can't fault him for not knowing how the world really works.

You’re bound to John in a way no one else on earth is, chained to his heart and mind whether you want to be or not.

#val.writes ❦#the boys.✮#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #homelander x you #the boys x you #the boys #homelander #tw. yandere

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thedivinershiddenarchive · 1 year

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thinking of: vampire!hunter childe who gets attached with vampire!reader ever since he met her but his obsession only worsens when someone tries to take her away from him.

cw. fem!reader, blood (svcking), yandere!childe, implied br33ding k1nk, possesiveness, semi-public s3x, s0mn0philia, dvb-c0n, implied historical au

a/n. don't mind me writing this after my wuthering waves mass post, the preview was so good. Bailian, Female Rover, Male Rover, my beloveds were so fine there. Anw childe time

masterlist | tag system | 17- & MASC-ALIGNED PLEASE DNI! THIS IS ONLY FOR FEMALE AUDIENCES.

BY PROCEEDING WITH THIS POST, YOU HAVE READ THE WARNINGS STATED ABOVE AND CONSENT TO VIEW AND CONSUME THE CONTENT.

Vampire Hunter!Childe who still bloodlusts in killing vampires except for you. Hell, he leans more in lust than bloodlust. He's obsessed with the way you bare your fangs at him. (I guess one is more into bloodlust while the other is just plain old lust)

He didn't want you to leave his side after he met you when he was eighteen, the two of you were inseperable! (more like you couldn't escape from him.)

Childe would give you whatever you wanted, the tastiest blood you'll drink (don't ask him where he got it though), the most comfortable dresses or corsets you could ever wear, the finest bedding for you to sleep in during the day as well as a big enough umbrella to cover your body so you wouldn't burn. Of course, he's not dumb enough to just give you an umbrella. He gave you lots of layers of clothing so you wouldn't burn when the umbrella would fly away from the harsh wind.

You wouldn't have to worry about that when he has you pinned to the wall of the darkest alleyway he can find, smashing his lips to yours, smirking at the sudden taste of iron in his mouth as he deepens the makeout. When you bite his bottom lip until it bleeds, you almost sound like a moan. He'll have your skirt bunching up as he teases your clothed lower region with his hand.

This guy thrives off pain with pleasure, it's basically the ultimate combo. Childe would get off to you simply sucking any part of his bodypart, his lips, neck, maybe even in that one lower region he loves so much. He doesn't want you to be too gentle with him but he doesn't want to die from blood loss either.

Usually you'll get tied up when it came to these occassions because you get out of hand when meeting lust and bloodlust altogether. Though he admits it looks so hot on you. Now he really didn't regret showing mercy on you when his family tried to execute you. Saying how you'll kill him, in which you literally and figuratively will. But it'll be worth it in the end.

Childe would keep you inside most of the time because people would come after you. Though he has other motivations other than that. You'd often catch other people's eye, especially to another family he was associated with. He doesn't like the simple glint of their son's eyes when he stares at you simply walking by. Who does he think he is trying to get interested on you? Doesn't he know that you're his? He wouldn't even take care of you like he does!

Out of jealousy from how much the son was trying to make moves on you, he tied you up while you were napping, ravaging your body and preparing it for him to enter his cock inside of you.

He'd start slow but gets impatient, biting your neck softly that you instinctively woke up with your sharp nails threatening to cut his neck off until you realize it was jut the ginger trying to fuck you in your sleep. You growled and pulled his hair so he could face you, his stupid grin shining in the dark as he moans when the two of your lips connect, the red liquid dripping onto your white shirt as the both of your legs tangle with each other.

Childe's breathing labored, grinding his hips until he bottomed out, pulling it out before slamming it back in. He saw how hungry you were from your eyes alone, the man just remembered that he (intentionally) forgot to feed you your daily dosage of blood. Childe just nods, throwing his hair to the side so his neck would be visible enough for your fangs to bite into.

Shit, he groaned at the feeling at first but slowly got used to it. Your face was flused against his neck as he kept up with his thrusts, his hand massaging your sides before gripping them, knowing very well it would leave a mark.

He couldn't stop himself, the feeling of you squeezing his cock while drinking his blood from his neck was painfully pleasurable. Oh he could do this all day, he couldn't stop making those pitched and loud sounds, he was sure the maids or butlers would've heard it right about now.

Ajax was doing such a good job in hitting all your right spots too, gosh he was good with his fingers playing with your cunt as he rails you roughly that the bed starts moving with him. He talks about how much it angers him seeing you with someone else, how you could've ignored the son's advances on you. Just the mere idea of seeing you with someone else made him go harder on you, practically moaning into his skin as you pulled away, watching how the blood quickly dripped onto the sheets with each and every ram of his hips.

He's starting to wonder what a hybrid vampire would look like. Maybe the hybrid would have your beautiful eyes as well as the same hair color as he does? Perhaps the other way around. Details aside, the main idea of even having one is much more important than what it will look like.

Just him whispering about it has you shivering. Maybe it was a bad idea having this man attached to you in the first place, let alone, think about having a family with him.

#notsodivininglover ; king’s pages #childe x reader #childe smut #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere smut

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talkbycolor · 4 months

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let me hold your hand forever.

A/N; i almost threw up writing this because its not the usual "omg i love this cute yandere boy, so silly!" shit i do

Pairing; "Rendacted" x GN!reader

CW; Ren/[REDACTED] having unhealthy, obsessive and possesive behavior, wow, who would have told / TW; mutilations, romanticizing mutilation by Ren side but MC is really terrified / this is an AU where MC rejected Ren's advances and he lost his infinite patience / character with extremely questionable ethics / wow another nsfw in this blog? / you’re lucky this isn’t visual / i know in canon Rendacted would never hurt MC BUT HEY god gave me the ability to write and im making that everyone else's problem / surreal strength for the sake of the plot, IMPORTANT POINT

It was quite comfortable, having a friend like Ren could even be strange, he looked like cotton candy and it was very nice to spend time together. But then again, you were just friends, it was a little strange that he mentioned being in a relationship with you.

But things have taken a bit of a drastic turn, Ren has spent his days trying to hang out with you, having lunch together, spending nights watching anime and horror movies, that would be nice if it didn't feel so overwhelming.

So it's time to confront him.

"Ren, hey, I know you like me a lot but we can't go out every day, I'm not always up for that so… I'll let you know when we can go out, okay?"

And there was only silence from the pink-haired boy, he seemed to be trying to smile unsuccessfully, just looking at you.

"Of course, angel, don't forget to call me!" He spoke nervously trying to hold back the storm in his throat.

Just when you were about to leave a hand grabbed your forearm, Ren was still looking at you with a smile, a sad smile.

"You're going to call me, right?" He asks, his eyes widening in desperation, Ren didn't want to lose you, he couldn't stand it, not again, what if you're thinking about slowly walking away?

"Sure, later" was the only thing you mentioned before pulling your arm to leave, it's not like you had an avoidant attachment pfff!

The days passed and life could be considered calm, you went out with your friends, you greeted your strange neighbor who loved to walk to her floors, work was not unpleasant and you even bought yourself a small dessert for dinner tonight.

You and Moth talked late into the night about the new episodes and since Haruko was so adorable, life felt peaceful once again. It's not that Ren was a problem, he was attractive and if you had enough self-esteem you would think you had a chance with him but…

I suppose not.

Speaking of Ren, what is he doing now? Visiting him would be a good idea, it's been days since they last spoke.

Once morning arrived you headed towards his large apartment and knocked on the door, not long after it was opened by Ren, who looked just like an abandoned puppy, you could almost see his eyes shine and his breath was lost just by seeing you in front of him. him.

"Angel, you're here! oh god, I-I'm so sorry for the mess, I didn't expect you to come… to my apartment…" It sounded a little strange, but it was just Ren being shy.

"Yeah uh… I'm sorry, are you busy? I can go, yes, maybe I should have let you know I was coming."

"No! NO! it's okay, you just surprised me, do you want a drink? I have your fav-… many options! I have many drink options" He corrected himself immediately with a smile, his face was almost the color of his hair and I was dying to say that I miss you so much.

"Or we can go out, do you want to visit the new cafe? Maybe we can-…"

“No” You interrupted, it sounded a little rude so you cleared your throat. "Now I'm not sure, I was just passing by to say hello, plus I don't have money to buy something…"

"I can buy it for you," he said almost immediately, his eyes fixed on you, almost sweating from having you close.

"That's very generous, Ren, but…"

"Please! It's your day off, right? We could go out and…"

"Ren, I'm not-…"

"Please, angel!" He begged, his hand had climbed to your arm and you didn't even notice, he was now gently squeezing your shoulder, wanting closeness, wanting to date, wanting you and you kept pushing him away.

The atmosphere was a little awkward now, you didn't know whether to be flattered that he thought you were interesting enough for Ren to want to spend time with you or scared by how desperate he looked about it.

"No thanks, I think I better go back to my apartment" You mentioned as you pushed his hand from your arm, you didn't even have time to turn to the door when Ren grabbed your arm tightly, a painful grip.

"Ren?"

"Can we be together, please? I-I'll make you feel special, I want you to be okay and I want you to…" his expression seemed so… surprised, to see you, embarrassed to act like that? scared of being abandoned? overstimulated? "all I want is to be with you!"

He almost roared out, his grip on your arm becoming more and more painful, he was pulling you away from the exit door.

"Ren, that hurts! REN! REN!"

"JUST LET ME HOLD YOUR HAND FOREVER!" He begged between screams, only a beeping sound existed in his head as he watched you fall to the ground in a pool of blood.

Now you were on the ground, screaming and crying out loud, it was agony, Ren had hurt you.

For fuck's sake, not only did he hurt you, he tore your fucking arm off and now you were writhing in your blood as you slowly lost consciousness.

Wake up.

Your body was still shaking, you were still terrified, and you had to escape, where was your arm? As soon as you woke up you found a sweaty Ren who was looking at you with a desperate and nervous smile.

It was a deranged look, almost immediately you started crying out of panic, your arm was gone, your arm, he tore it off, you were hyperventilating as you watched his left arm missing.

"REN! REN!!" You were sobbing in despair, the pool of blood was still on the floor, how long were you unconscious? not much because apparently Ren had tried to stop the bleeding and close the wound, seeing bandages full of blood made you vomit immediately, but that didn't stop you from crying in agony.

"Angel, please! s-stop crying, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, please forgive me! FORGIVE ME, I DIDN'T WANT TO! IT WAS NOT MY INTENTION!" He begged you as he sobbed himself, he had hurt you and that was something he never thought of doing, that he never wanted to do. "l-look, now we are equal, can you forgive me?"

What did he say ..?

Your throat had closed and the screams stopped, that guy was fucking deranged.

He ripped his left arm off of him.

For you.

He came up to hug you, wanting to be comforting, to make you feel accompanied in this, to give you love in such a dark time.

No no no no.

"NO! NO! NOOO! PLEASE, NO!" You screamed in panic as the tears came out, that couldn't be happening, disgust and terror filled your poor mind as you were caressed with so much love, Ren was going to take care of you and promised to never hurt you again.

"We'll be fine angel, just trust me, I'll take care of you." He spoke so lovingly, smiling as he held you, genuinely happy to be so close, to be able to touch you. "Now we match, right?"

He was joking at a moment like that, as if it were nothing, the sobs no longer came out, you could barely breathe while the tears didn't stop and he lulled you into your chest with the help of his only arm.

♡

#yandere x reader #ren x reader #14 days with you #yandere visual novel #im so normal about him i swear #fanfic #14dwy redacted #14 days with you ren #14dwy ren #14dwy ren x reader #gn reader

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suiana · 1 year

Note

I just saw your goth! Yan and I immediately FELL IN LOVE OMG LIKE SJJKDOEOJEXHOCOX okay but like what if goth! Yan's darling also has a similar style to them? :^)) imma sucker for goth couples frfr

sounds super cool anon!! (alternate universe with goth!!)

✎ yandere! goth headcanons PT.2 . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, possessiveness, a little bit of delusion if you squint etc.

(gn! reader x male yandere! oc)

✎ yandere! goth who is immediately attracted to you due to your sense of fashion and style.

✎ yandere! goth who makes an obvious effort to know you better. it isn't every day where he meets someone with a similar style!

✎ yandere! goth who exchanges ideas and happily talks to you about goth culture and fashion. it's so nice to have a friend with similar interests :)

✎ yandere! goth who initially just sees you as a cool friend. he only starts to fall for you after you stick with him despite the intensified bullying from the other kids. like, you would willingly put up with more bullying? for him? that's so cute!

✎ yandere! goth who, like his original au self, shows you his secret stash of knives and his poster clad bedroom once he falls for you. he doesn't show this to just anyone :) consider yourself special!

✎ yandere! goth who gets even more possessive over you. like, when you two were just friends he was possessive 100%. he didn't want to lose a friend like you! but now that you've intruded into his heart his possesiveness shot up to 1000%. a darling with similar fashion and style is something to be treasure.

✎ yandere! goth who gifts you one of his knives as a promise to you. he thinks it's more personal than a ring. I mean, the fact that you're both goths show that a ring isn't as important as something like a prized gothic knife, right?

✎ yandere! goth who thinks that you're just in love with him as he is with you. you both have so much in common! of course you would love him back right? you must be, you have to be. if you aren't he'll kill you.

✎ yandere! goth who talks about many things to you on a daily basis. from goth culture, to school to even how he wants your wedding to be like! oh, to see you in a beautiful victorian goth dress, walking down the aisle~ how absolutely lovely that would be <3

✎ "my darling~ I love you so so SO much <3"

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere blog #yandere hcs #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere goth x reader #yandere goth headcanons #yandere goth

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joonsty · 4 months

Text

Hybrid Au :

BunnyJungkook X Human Reader 🐰

Warnings : extreme possesive and obsessive behavior, smut, slight yandere themes? explicit sexual content; oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial/control, choking, unprotected sex, shower sex, creampie, marking/hickeys, rough, pet names, piss kink, rough manhandling? i guess bunny boy is stronger than reader. mentions of alcohol, pills, plot twist at the end, hint of soft/kook, I’m so fucking shite at recognising what bunnies do when they are angry or whatever so…I’m sorry. 🤍 uhm I feel like there’s more but I suppose I’ll remember later!

this is my first post on tumblr, so i guess im a bit nervous? I hope you like it!! requests are open, so feel free to send in suggestions & ideas! °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

your keys rattled in the little doorlock, failing multiple times on opening the door. “fuck“ you sighed out as you dropped your keys on the floor. If i were to describe you, i would say you were drunk, sticky & a hot mess, but most importantly totally fucked. It was times like these, where you were drunk, that you would forget the rules and the people around you. He tried his hardest, drilling the words into your mind, making your dumb stupid brain memorize it by heart. But even then, you forgot the most important rule.

never ever leave your bunny boy alone.

so yeah, in simple words, you were fucked. you didn't know about the evil that sat in your house, glaring at the four walls in so much anger and pain. If only you listened, if only you paid more attention to your bunny boy than you did to your friends. who even cared about your friends? he could kill them in a heartbeat. sure, it’ll hurt you, but the sweet pain he would see on your face, your warm tears dribbling down your cheeks, it would be worth it.

so welcome back to the present, you grabbed your right hand, and steadily plopped the key into the lock, twisting it in success. “finally” you groaned out. your feet was sore and burning. you needed a shit ton of pain relievers and a warm shower to make you feel better tonight, maybe even a cuddle from your favourite boy. but oh god, how everything was going to go down the drain.

you sluggishly walked into your apartment and halted, eyes immediately locking with the hothead in-front of you. “g-gukkiieeee” you slurred as you ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and breathing in his musky scent. oh god, he felt so nice, you thought as you pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

before you could even comprehend what happened, he pushed you off him, making you stumble back a bit. “hey what are you-?” “don’t fucking touch me.” he growled. his fluffy bunny ears standing up straight, and you even noticed how big? he almost seemed. he turned his back to you and walked away to your shared bedroom, leaving you in the main room, confused and dizzy.

“oh fuck it” you thought, as you walked yourself in the bedroom as well. to be honest, you’ve had enough with jungkooks behaviour. his constant fear of him losing you to someone else, or how he made you drop and block all your male friends because, “I trust you baby, it’s them I don’t trust” & all that bullshit.

as you walked in, you saw him sitting on the bed, earphones plugged in, blasting his music on the full. he didn’t even spare you a glance. you really hated when he was angry. but then again, it was kind of like this all the time. you shimmied out of your dress, grabbing his tshirt and some shorts and scurried your way to the bathroom.

your feet touch the cold marble floor and you jerk back a bit, “wooh okay” you mentally prepare yourself before stepping in the shower. your hand turns the knobs for the water and the drizzles of shower comes shooting down as the warmest of summer rain, your eyes squeeze shut as you bask & enjoy the warm water dissolving all your pain and aches away.

you stay like that for a few minutes, gradually getting sleepier by the second, eyes feeling heavy and your legs on the verge to give out. god you should finish this shower and head to bed so you can slee-

“who tf do you think you are, hm?”

you flinch as his voice finally reaches you. fuck, you didn’t know whether to be shit scared or shit turned on rn. “what do-“

“shut the fuck up, whore.”

your mouth instantly seizes up. you’re pretty sure he can hear the loud thumping of your heart, punching against your fragile rib cage & the small breathy whimpers that leave your mouth.

his rough hand latches onto your throat and you swear your stomach clenches a bit. his calloused fingers soothingly rubbing the sides of your throat. you can practically feel his hard abs pressing your back, but thats not all. you gulp, taking a deep breath in.

“baby, whats wr-“ you get interrupted again & his hold tightens just a tad bit more.

“did i say you could fucking speak?“ he grits out.

“you know all you had to do was tell me, and i would've fucked this dirty cunt of yours, but no, my dumb little bitch wanted to go and fuck someone else.“

you look at him with wide eyes, what the hell is he talking about?

in a swift moment, hes got you pressed against the wall. the pebbles of your breast brushing uncomfortably against the tiles causing you to bite down on your bottom lip.

“guess i have to remind you that this pussy...“

his hand roughly slaps your clit, making you jump in pleasure.

“belongs to me, and only me.“

------------------------------------------------

& thats how you ended up, face down and ass up on the satin bed. tears streaming down your face, while you begged him to “stop, its too much“and in response he laughed at your face, mocking your whimpers.

you could say that the initial pain was blinding, feeling yourself getting stretched out by him made all your racing thoughts dissipate as every nerve in your brain focused on not passing out. plain and pleasure, that's what it was about.

your hands roughly clenched around the black sheet beneath you, his body pinning you down, his thick girth hitting impossibly deep inside you. you immediately muffled your screams into the bedsheet, allowing drool to dribble down your mouth and stain it.

in a sudden movement, you felt his hand wrap around your locks and painfully pull back. “who fucks you better hm?“ he breathes out, as his pace quickens. “what” you whimper out as you bite down on your bottom lip.

his nose tickles your jaw, as he guides his mouth closer to your ears. “I said, does he fuck you better than me?” he pulls out, making you gasp at the loss of contact on instinct. “god- you’re test-“ “no” “what did you say?” he grunts out, as he repeatedly taps his cock on ur clit, gently pushing in and out, teasing you. your walls clench around nothing and you could finally say that the pain was getting worse, you wanted a release and you wanted it bad.

“no, no you’re the only one I want, please, please, please” you begged, pathetically.

“hm I didn’t hear you what did you say?”

“please bunny, I need to-“

“excuse me?”

“please please, daddy, let me cum, I’ll do anything, please”

his cocky chuckle filled the four walls, bouncing of em and directly piercing through your ears.

“good girl.”

daam fuck. you couldn’t deny the warmth that started to fill your belly by his praise. sooner than expected, you came. like he always says "cumming on daddys cock like a filthy slut".

and you was indeed, HIS filthy slut.

you slumped down onto the bed, heart pounding within your chest, sweat gathering on your forehead and a insane urge for more. he fell next to you on the bed and his large hand clasped around your waist, pulling you next to him. You could smell his cologne entangled with his musky scent, how could you resist him, you just wanted him to roll you over and dwe-

'you okay?' he whispered, big eyes staring at you, and you stared right back.

'yeah...' you answered, as your hands slowly crept down his abdomen, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. you softly palmed his solid, pink hard-on and low purrs resonated to your ears.

'what are you-'

he was interrupted. you spit on his cock and hungrily slide him into your mouth, taking him in as much as you could, a small gag from you makes him hiss and he throws his head back. you lick the stripe of vein on the side and swirl your tongue softly on his tip, oh how he wants to just grab your hair and force you on his cock until your a blabbering mess, but he doesn't want to ruin the moment.

you pull back with a pop and glare at the man who's now ready to do whatever you want.

"oh how the tables have turned..."

hope you liked that! i will be posting more stories soon! if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know! ♡

do you prefer shorter or longer stories? (ill keep it in mind for next time!)

thanks for supporting! if you have any requests or ideas, please dont hesitate to dm me! even if you just want to have a chat! ⋅ ୨୧ ⋅

@meowyoongii @amyyysposts @theuniverse4koo @era-genius @gukjshi

(tag list currently!)

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redsaurrce · 11 months

Text

LOVE SHOT - DOSE 4 <no, not Shin-won too>

synopsis 💉 Where jk becomes the part of an experiment where he wasn't supposed to take the love shot but ends up taking it in high dose and gets obsessed with yn by mistake

pairing 💉 YANDERE Scientist!jeon jungkook ft. Jimin x Scientist!fem reader

genre 💉 scientist!au , smut (minors DNI)

word count 💉 2,644

warnings 💉 kissing, profanity, jungkook is needy AF(as always), cock warming, unhealthy obsession, hella possesive, boobsucking, jungkook realizes something, what the hell jimin?

DOSE 3

taglist 💉 @aajjks @effielumiere @dearsullix @canarystwin @yourslut16 @imwithurmother @perfectlyfangirling @pnibts @bloodline1632 @hopeonysus @roundedreluv12 @jub-jub @maqsxi @kooscameras @jungkooksleftbigtoe13 @thatblena @yawnyanii @viridiphile @milkxgukk @outro-kook @puppiliciouslove @mata0-0mata @pk-jimin @jungchanie @ziraspells @twisted-loved @lunaofsun @inlovewithallmusic @sassyfoxunknown @teugiie @hsaranghoe @jjhmk @mryuyux @xxoverthinkerxx @fandems @hollyverday @ohmygodddsblog @fly-on-the-wall @lookformyvoice @slutforwwh @shakashakaa @meikoo @emochicksasukeee @dearly-somber

@mymomsaid-no @madnesstaking0ver @miyoung23 @outofst1le @jiminstreble @kanvis @k3lynn @imagine-this-motherfucker @dontcallmeelle @jkbabiey @1-in-abillion @bangmechanpls @uarmyhore @devils-blackrose @hrndez2008 @azur3s @erennjim @cherryunie @vynmin @fragmentof-indifference

You paced around your room waiting for Shin-won's call. With passing days, you saw less and less hope in the antidote when you noticed hardly any changes in Jungkook, rather he has grown a lot more fiesty, asking you to warm up his cock because "it hurts Y/N, can you please help me out?" Or let him suck on your boobs "to calm his racing mind and let him sleep soundly".

You were in a complex situation and you had no one to turn to except Shin-won who was working as a team. You had a long talk with Shin-won over call while Jungkook was asleep in the early morning.

You knew that if someone else got to know about Jungkook's situation, there will be unnecessary ruckus among your collegues, not to mention about the people who are waiting for you to mess up and seize the chance to drag you down, there were just too many hungry eyes looking out for your experiment to fail.

When you told Shin-won about Jungkook's health without going into the explicit details, he said that he had a good friend in States who is also a pharmaceutical scientist.

He said he'll try to reach her and then call you back. And right now you were waiting for that call.

The ring of your phone distracted you from your worries, "Hey! Did you contact her?"

"Uh-huh! I told ya she'll help us no matter what! Also she told me that she needs to check Jungkook herself."

"Herself? You mean she'll come here?" You asked him.

"Yep! She said she'll take the earliest flight and will be here tonight. I'll come over to your house with her." He answered.

"Okay that's great then, escort her safely from the airport."

"Sure!"

You had briefed to Jungkook about Shin-won and his friend coming over tonight to discuss about the solution for the love shot. Although Jungkook felt a little bit dissapointed that soon his reason to stay with you will be over, he still had to act happy for it.

When you opened the door, you greeted Shin-won and his said friend with a huge smile. "Hi, I'm Shin-won's friend Sucrose, you must be Y/N, nice to meet you." She forwarded her hand for a handshake and you returned the friendly gesture, "Yes I am and this here, is Jungkook, Sucrose come inside."

"I've heard everything from Shin-won and I will help you guys. From what I have gathered is that the suggested antidote didn't work on Jungkook? Am I right?" Sucrose asked as she took a seat on your couch.

"Yes you are." You answered.

"It was triple the safe limit?" She asked again to make sure.

"Yes, that's correct." You said.

"Alright I get it now, we need one more person to test the triple limit on." She suggested.

"WHAT??? Sucrose, we can't risk another person." Shin-won was bewildered.

She looked at him, "I'm not saying this for fun, it's been only few minutes since I'm here yet I can strongly feel how much Jungkook is trying to maintain his composure." She licked her lips and further added, "We need one more person so that I can confirm whether Jungkook is immune to the antidote or not, in that case we need to make a new antidote for him. There are many more possibilities and the only way to confirm it.. is to create another subject. You know the rule right? The more number, the less will be the error."

Jungkook sighed, "Y/N keeps chanting that all the time."

"Well, you're right Sucrose, I won't lie by saying that I have not thought about that but I just can't think of risking one more person." You said. "But if that's the only hope for us then, we need someone descreet. I can't imagine what will be the public reaction once they know about this, just the thought of it makes me shiver." You said anxiously.

"Then.. it has to be someone among ourselves, Shin-won, what do you say?" Sucrose raised her eyebrows.

"Huh? What??" He was caught off guard, "You want to test it on me? Me??" He asked with wide eyes.

"Yeah why? And the person you will see will be Y/N." She said in a straightforward tone.

"Wait! wait! wait!" Jungkook stood up all of a sudden, "Y/N is already busy with me, how can she handle one more? I'm against it! If that's our only way out, why don't you be the person he sees first, Miss Sucrose?"

"I very well might be that person Mr. Jungkook but I can't be by his side for I have to be busy with the experiments. As a scientist, we need to take risks and sacrifices many times, especially the scientists of your and my kind." She sighed, "What do you think Y/N, I assume Mr. Jungkook will listen to you and your junior Shin-won will listen to you as well."

You let out a deep sigh, all sorts of possibilities started flooding your mind. What if Shin-won ends the same as Jungkook? Ugh! You don't even want to picture all the things you do with Jungkook to do with him. It feels so wrong yet you are practically left with no other choice.

"Okay, I'll do it." You said with a frown.

"Are you serious Y/N??? What are you thinking???" Jungkook's insides were boiling at your response, no way in hell was he sharing you with anyone.

"Y/N, why are you agreeing to this?" Shin-won asked you in disbelief.

"Calm down you both. I have a reason to agree to this and at times like this, we must act professionally so I expect nothing from you except to sail through this till the end. Sucrose, will you start with your experiment?" You asked.

She nodded and turned towards Shin-won, "Shin-won, did you bring the shots?"

"Shots?- Ah you told me to bring it over with me because you had this plan from the start?" He asked her.

"Of course, now give them to me and Y/N.. I heard you have a laboratory in your house, do you have the necessary equipments?" She asked you.

Goodness! Shin-won really loves to boast how your house has a lab room, doesn't he?

"Yes, I do." You said while side-eyeing Shin-won while he awkwardly chuckled.

"Okay then please lead the way." She said.

You attached the wire chords to Shin-won's scalp and plugged in the monitor while Sucrose put on a mask and prepered the doses, she followed the exact same steps as Shin-won had with Jungkook.

When she injected the third dose, she silently gestured for you to come and stand in front of him. "Open your eyes Shin-won." You said and he slowly opened his eyes.

He blinked for a few seconds and took a good look at your face while Jungkook stood near the monitor noting down the records of the graph pattern.

Shoot! There it was! The loud shrill noise from the monitor and just like Jungkook, Shin-won's body temperature started to rise which soon followed with him blacking out.

The next morning Shin-won had regained his consciousness while you and Jungkook looked out for him. "Hey! Are you feeling okay?" You asked.

Jungkook helped him sit up and handed him a glass of water, "Yes I am.. so.. how long was I lying here for?"

"7 hours!" Jungkook immediately answered with his arms folded.

Shin-won frowned, "Just 7? What happened to the 18 hour duration? It's even lesser than half of Jungkook's duration."

"I know right, seems like you had a good night's sleep." Sucrose said as she came with a syringe. "Now that you are awake, I need your blood for the sample." She said as she rolled up his sleeve and took out blood from him.

"So, how are you feeling? Attracted to.. Y/N?" Even though Jungkook hated every single word that came out of his mouth, he still couldn't resist the curiousity.

Shin-won gulped as he looked at you, he hissed a bit. "Why? Is anything wrong?" You asked him.

"Y/N, why are you standing so close to Jungkook?" He said with a slight frown.

Jungkook's eyes went wide and he closed his fist involuntarily from anger.

You blinked, "what?"

Shin-won then closed his eyes and touched his forehead, "Y/N, I feel hot, can you please come and touch me?"

Jungkook's fist was throbbing from how tight it was fisted, he was ready to throw punches right then and there.

Meanwhile you sensed something was wrong, you narrowed your eyes, "Nice acting Shin-won. Stop faking it already." You said with arms folding up.

He tsked, "Doggone it!"

"What? You were faking it?" Jungkook frowned in confusion.

"Ugh yes, c'mon y/n i was about to have some fun." Shin-won pouted.

"You think this is funny?" Jungkook stepped ahead with the question.

"Ok fine i was gonna give up anyway by looking at that mad fist." He pointed towards Jungkook's hand.

Jungkook rolled his eyes, "Good decision."

You nodded to yourself while thinking about the antidote's reaction period, "Hmm.. it takes minimum of 4 hours and maximum 12 hours for the antidote to remove loveshot's symptoms, i assume in your case it has already worked?"

Jungkook who was listening to you turned towards Shin-won, "You really dont feel anything for y/n?"

He chuckled, "I don't."

Jungkook felt so relieved at his words, lord he was really pissed.

Sucrose fixed her glasses and said, "Now now i need Jungkook and Shin-won to come with me to our lab's korean branch, Y/N.. would you like to assist as well?"

"Ah.. you mean the lab you were working in States has a branch in korea as well?" You asked her with raised eyebrows.

"Yes! Its the Minerva Laboratories. Have you heard of it?" Sucrose asked enthusiastically.

Minerva.. MINERVA!?? ofcourse you've heard of it.

"Uh yes i have. Um.. well i think I'll pass, you both should go with Sucrose." You told them.

"Why won't you come along with us?" Shin-won asked.

"I.. I have some work to catch up on. I'll know the results afterwards, okay?" You said concealing the truth.

Jungkook gritted his teeth, "Y/n, we need to talk." He said that and grabbed your wrist and walked over to the balcony.

"Y/N, are you trying to avoid me?" He said after he let go off your wrist. Even though what he said was partially true, you knew better than anyone else about Jungkook's emotional swings- they were unpredictable nowadays.

You gulped, "Ningguang.. she works there. I- i just don't want to bump into her at all, i dont want to get reminded about Jimin.. so.. so i just want to stay away from everyone and everything that'll remind me of him."

Oh boy! Jungkook felt apologetic for misunderstanding you.. and at the same time his chest was swelling up from happiness.. you really wanted to stay away from Jimin? He loved how loyal you were to him.

He at once took you in a hug catching you off guard, "I knew it, you wouldn't betray me, you wouldn't break your promise." He breathed in the crook of your neck as he snuggled further in the hug.

You blinked rapidly with guilt once again stirring up in your heart, oh how you wish you could turn back time and stop all of this from happening!

You sighed, "Now that you know.. you all should hurry up and go."

Jungkook hummed in your hug.

Jungkook and Shin-won sat outside the lab since morning.. and it was evening right now, naturally Jungkook was growing reckless, just how long will he stay here? Any place without you feels like absolute hell to him.

He wants to go back home, to you.. because you were his home, you were the person who brings peace to his mind, you were the one he would call his, you were the one he belonged to.

His thoughts were interrupted once Sucrose swung open the door, "guys, here's the report and my conclusion at the bottom.. i hope this will help you guys work things out." She said with a hint of worry on her face.

Shin-won took the two reports from her hands and Jungkook looked over the details beside him.

"What?!" Shin-won couldn't believe the conclusion he just read.

"The dose works perfectly fine, no issues found.

1. Mr. S has shown no abrupt signs and the antidote has worked well. Mr. S has likely shown infatuation towards Ms. Y but it can be interpreted that way due to high dose of loveshot.

Antidote has ceased the symptoms.

2. Mr. J has shown strong infatuation towards Ms. Y with the antidote failing to cease the symptoms even after 5 days of taking the antidote twice.

Conclusion

Mr. J has strong feelings towards Ms. Y and the dose has likely caused the dormant feelings to display.

It can thus be concluded that the dose has amplified the feelings therefore sticking to it's main objective of- "even if there's slightly any love/infatuation, the loveshot will trigger those particular emotions."

Shin-won's face grew pale, "Jungkook, what does all of this mean? You like Y/N.. no.. you more than just like her, don't you?"

Jungkook bit his lower lip, "I guess so."

Shin-won shook his head, "Why didnt you say so when i was injecting the shot? Why didn’t you tell me?"

Jungkook sighed, "I was afraid that you might slip it up to Y/n before i even had a chance.. tell me, would you not tell her?"

Shin-won blinked, "um.. i- i think?"

Jungkook scoffed, "look at this kid." He playfully smacked Shin-won's head, "Now that we know, i just wanna go home and take some rest. You should go to your home as well and we'll rack our brains tomorrow."

"Wait! What's the rush? You are dying to see Y/n.. aren't you?" He wriggled his eyebrows, "stop with that, fine.. yes, i am dying to meet her, happy?"

"Dont tell me you're obsessed with her." He said nonchalantly while keeping the reports inside his bag.

Obsessed?

It seems like Jungkook has finally realized the feelings which had stayed dormant towards you, now that he thinks about it.. Jungkook indeed used to look out for you everytime even before the loveshot came in the scenario.

He was interested in everything you did, he noticed even the smallest of details about you that might go unnoticed by everyone else. He was always curious about you.

Always.

Upon not hearing any answer, Shin-won finally looked up from his bag towards Jungkook, he blinked, he wished to hear a no from Jungkook, he really did.. so he asked again, "Are... you.. obsessed with her?"

Jungkook's face morphed in a twisted look, "I need some time to think about it."

With that said, he walked away leaving Shin-won behind.

Jungkook was trying to add things up, the more he thought about this.. the more he felt ridiculous about himself.

Was it really not the loveshot that caused him to be so attached to you? Was he always like this? Jungkook ran his hand through hair, he just can't believe it.

He thought he loved you.. he loves you, he's sure of it, but.. "ugh! I need to see her right now." He drove his car as fast as he could.

When he reached your apartment, to his surprise the door was unlocked.

"Y/n?" He called out your name. He didn't hear you answer so he went inside and searched every room.

Did you go outside? He hurriedly dialed your number, he heard your mobile ring in the next room but you weren't there. Where could you have gone without your phone? Did you forget to take it? Or has something happened to you?

Just as Jungkook was stepping out of the main door, he received a notification.

"Whose number is this?" He looked at the unknown number in frustration from not finding you.

He clicked on the message.

xxx-xxx-912 : hey man, it's me! Jimin.

xxx-xxx-912 : you wanted the update right, here you go!

And there lied an image attachment of Jimin and you making out.

*clears throat* ehe what's going on!? 👀

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ecoamerica · 16 days

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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neteyamssyulang · 21 days

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➤ Wild Encounters - Neteyam x Fem human reader

➺ Summary: While on a late night walk in the woods, you immediately regret your decision

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Tumbled stones station part 2 - Okul x Fem sarentu reader

➺ With Okul busy and your friends away, you spent your time alone in your favorite spot. Thank eywa for that since your heat had started.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ I miss you more than life - Neteyam x Fem omaticaya reader

➺ After some time had passed, you finally decided to tell your little girl about her father.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ The chase - So’lek x Fem human reader x Eetu x Neteyam

➺ With the 3 males in rut, you were unfortunately caught in the middle of it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Reckoning escape - So’lek x Fem sarentu reader

➺ What was once a peaceful day turned out to be the worst, now having to not only protect yourself, but your two children aswell.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Ma nalor ‘evan - Subby neteyam x Fem human reader

➺ When Jake allows his son to have days off from his responsibilities, he immediately goes to you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Forbidden Moonlight

➺ You should have listened, should have stayed inside. Now you pay the price.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Forbidden desires - Neytiri x Fem human reader

Based on this request <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Savage temptations - Jake x Fem human reader x Neytiri

Based on this request <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Scandalous consequences Chapter 4 - Aonung x Fem human reader

➺ 6 months have passed since your children were born, you were forced to move back to awa’atlu and be with Aonung who continued to ignore you and the children, while Meyäi was having the time of her life.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Sensual Surprises - Tsu’tey x Fem human reader

Based on this request <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ In the arms of desire - Possesive Okul x Fem sarentu reader

Based on this request <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Fireside hearts - Modern AU neteyam x Fem human reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Aylu uvan si 'u - Neteyam x Fem human reader x Lo’ak

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Alphas obsession - Omega neteyam x 2 Alpha oc’s

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

➤ Tempted by the enemy - Modern AU neteyam x Fem human reader

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

#neteyamssyulang #reyas wips🩵#james cameron avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar the way of water #avatar frontiers of pandora #avatar pandora #avatar fanfiction

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t-lostinworlds · 1 year

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White Lies, Red & Blue Tights | Peter Parker

》 PAIRING: peter parker x female!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: college au; established relationship; fluff; crack-ish

》 SUMMARY: You and Peter accidentally dressed up in the same costumes for Halloween. But he was not wearing a costume, it was his suit. You simply didn't know that your favorite superhero and your boyfriend were the same. Who would've thought that seeing you in red and blue would be the breaking point of his lies.

》 WARNINGS: all in peter’s pov, peter being so down bad for his gf, fluffiness & cuteness overload, so much neck kisses (all from peter, boy’s obsessed), pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel), cursing, hints of shy!reader, hints of possesive!peter, suggestive moments (mostly heavy make outs), sexual themes (including: languages, innuendos & teasing jokes), peter having an idiot™ moment (which lead to a lil scolding but nothing bad), peter being horny af™ (he sorta has a thing for a playboy bunny costume or just lingerie in general lmao), allusions to sex but nothing explicit (it’s at the end. idk why. it just happened)

》 WORD COUNT: 14.6k+ (heh, are we surprised)

A/N: it’s me, hi, posting a halloween fic in nov. bc why tf not lol. not quite sure how i feel about this, but hey, it’s just a fun fic in general and there’s nothing wrong with that. this isn’t really set on any timeline (a.k.a. nwh didn’t happen lmao) bc this was supposed to be for last year and well, idk what happened but at least it’s here now? asdfghjkl hope you enjoy! <3

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ PETER PARKER MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

It's been nine months.

Nine months since Peter's been calling you his girlfriend and oh what a wonderful, joyous nine months it's been.

You two did know each other a little longer than that, though, but only for a few months more.

It was the first week—a Tuesday, to be specific—of freshman year when he got to class a bit too early. It was a rare occasion so to speak, given his…nighttime job.

He had plugged in his earbuds as he waited for time to pass, also to relax his nerves a little being that he didn't know anyone in this new school just yet. He didn't really have the energy to interact either after that intense fight he had with a rowdy gang the night before. It was a way to give himself some alone time, a sense of peace.

Peter was aware that people were already starting to fill up the lecture hall, but he didn't notice that someone was approaching him until he felt a tap on his shoulder. Hastily taking his earbuds out, he looked up to see who was causing the disturbance.

Only it wasn't a disturbance, it was more a gift in the guise of a breathtakingly beautiful girl.

Okay, maybe he was being a bit much but that was exactly what he thought when his eyes found yours, his heart stopping momentarily, beating again but with twice the normal pace—well, normal to his enhanced self.

"Is this seat taken?"

Who knew one simple question could make Peter's heart skip a beat? Well, it was more hearing your voice than anything else, but still. It was silly how something so mundane immediately caused the butterflies to wreak havoc in his stomach.

He stumbled upon his words like he was in high school again, settling on a squeaky,

"N-no! I-uh, it's not. You can sit, uhm—beside me."

He flashed you a shy smile as he hurriedly stood from his seat and pulled out yours. He didn't even know why he did it, exactly. He knew you were well capable of taking a seat yourself. But that day, his actions were working faster than his brain as its gears stuttered.

Besides, sitting back down while he was already standing would've only added to the embarrassment. It would've made him look weird and awkward. At least he came off as a gentleman…right?

There was no doubt his cheeks were already stained crimson, though, turning a shade deeper when you giggled out a soft,

"Thank you."

That was when you smiled, and that was also when Peter knew he was a goner.

He was rendered silent for a couple of moments, simply gazing—okay, he was probably staring but totally not in a creepy way—as you settled yourself and got ready for class.

It was when you flashed him another bright smile when he finally snapped out of it, clearing out his throat, gathering all his courage—and his own sanity—as he held his hand out.

"I'm Peter, by the way, uhm, Peter Parker."

"Y/N."

Peter thought it sounded lovely, your name, so lovely that he found himself repeating it in his head over and over. He also thought your hand felt wonderful when you shook his, your palm warm and soft, fitting perfectly in his hold—again, totally in a non-creepy way.

In case he wasn't painfully obvious enough, yes, he quickly developed a crush on you.

That day he thought you were the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen, your figure clad in a simple sweater and jeans. And as time ticked by, he thought you only grew even more beautiful every time he saw you—still do.

Nothing could compare to when he got to know your brain though, because goddamn your mind. Your thoughts and opinions, your perspective on things to the way you're practically a genius but are completely humble about it. Never did you make anyone feel inferior with your knowledge. If anything, you're more encouraging, willing to offer help to those who need it.

Add a wonderful, witty, kind, and funny personality in the mix and damn, Peter thought you couldn't get any more perfect.

It started out casual as it always did. From small talk during class whenever it got a little boring, sharing notes, pointers and opinions to helping each other out whenever the other was having a hard time with a certain equation. It was the only class you and Peter shared, a sudden—mostly biased—opinion coursing through him when he decided it turned into his favorite.

Then phone numbers were exchanged.

Sitting beside each other turned into getting morning coffees together, tumbling to lunch dates to then waiting for you outside your last period so he could walk you to your dorm once the day ends. It wasn't long before it progressed to late night study sessions, until that also became late night movie marathons—cuddles definitely included.

By then, Peter found himself looking forward to seeing you first thing at sunrise to the last person he talked to as the moon bid its hello. He always made sure he got to spend as much time as he could with you, his day a little less bright whenever he didn't get to see you for even just a minute or two.

From there on out, your relationship blossomed like a flower in spring despite the season moving from fall to winter. As the leaves turned orange to then covered in white, a simple friendship evolved into something more, a simple attraction growing into one of passionate adoration.

New Year's was when you two made it official.

And yes, exactly with a rather cliché yet wonderful kiss as the clock struck twelve, no less.

It was the best New Year's kiss Peter had the pleasure of experiencing, the first ever kiss you two shared. It was one so special that he couldn't wipe off his smile even days after, a tingling sensation coursing through him each time he remembered the feeling of your lips on his, that same tingling sensation intensifying whenever you remind him, every day, exactly how it feels to be given your kisses.

And no, it definitely was not his spidey sense.

The only ones that could probably top it are the follow ups in the future. Because now, well underway his sophomore year in college with your one-year anniversary right around the corner, Peter found himself wanting many, many more New Year's kisses shared with you to happen down the line.

And hopefully, right at the very end of it.

Some may say it's a tad bit premature given that you'd only been together for nine months—well, neither of you had even said the L word to each other yet.

Peter was sure he'd already fallen, though. But not wanting to rush into it, or rather, spook you with the rapid speed his feelings were advancing in, he decided to keep it to himself for just a little bit more.

Still, the phrase: 'when you know, you know,' had never felt truer for Peter the more times he laid his eyes on you.

That same feeling bubbled up inside him as he stepped out of his bathroom.

You were exactly where he left you ten minutes ago, sitting on his bed with your legs crossed, sporting some gray sweatpants along with his university hoodie, one that Peter absolutely adores seeing you in.

Your computer was placed in front of you with the screen tilted up, your brows deeply furrowed as you scanned it from left to right. Your nose would scrunch every few seconds, a habit of yours whenever you're deep in concentration. Lips pursed, your fingers hit the keys, presumably hitting backspace before rushing to undo what you just erased, and then backspacing again before typing in new words.

He'd seen you do it over and over—a couple a hundred times probably—the minute you arrived in his apartment and situated yourself on his bed.

It was a mundane sight, yet Peter still thought it was a sight worthy to be captured and hung up in a museum. After all, breathtaking, beautiful art deserves to be appreciated and adored.

You were in your element and Peter enjoys watching you in your element.

There was no doubt you were rereading the same thing you'd been glued to for the past couple of hours. You started revising it when the sun was still up in the sky. Now, the moon had already replaced it yet you still hadn't stopped.

In pure concern, Peter moved over to the bed and took your laptop without warning.

"Wha—Peter no, give it back," you whined.

With one glance at the screen, Peter sighed when his assumption was proven right, making sure to save the document before closing your laptop and putting it on his desk.

When he turned back to you, there was nothing but a pout on your lips, body slumped as you looked at him with the cutest puppy eyes in hopes that it'll work its magic and make him give it back to you. It usually did—you're very hard to resist with those eyes, Peter admits—but right now, he shook his head no with a knowing smile.

"You've reread that a couple of hundred times already," he said, tapping your leg and urging you to uncross them. And you did, slowly straightening them out with a deep sigh, probably realizing you weren't getting your computer back anytime soon.

It only made Peter grin wider.

"Overcompensating," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.

"I myself have reread it at least...a couple fifty more." He raised a brow at you as he started to crawl into bed, his palms landing flat on either side of your thighs with your legs in between his knees.

"You've read it twice!" you laughed, shaking your head as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, his face now only a couple of inches from yours.

"What I'm trying to say is," Peter started, kissing the tip of your nose sweetly before he met your gaze, nothing but honesty in his voice. "That essay is already brilliant, you don't need to revise it over and over."

"You always say that." You pouted, fingers threading through the hair on the back of his head. "It's such a biased opinion, too."

"Doesn't mean it's not true," he pointed out, tilting his head at you knowingly. "I mean, did you ever get a low mark whenever I say that about anything you've made?"

"No," you murmured, sighing softly before brushing the tip of your nose with his in the most adorable of ways. Peter's heart could only grow warmer and bigger at the gesture. With your pout in play, you said, "But come on, just—let me revise it one more time?"

Peter shook his head at you, his girlfriend, ever the perfectionist.

He adored it, he did, admired it even. But sometimes, you simply didn't know when to stop even though you'd already given it your all. And when you were already drained to the bone, it was only a matter of time before you started getting frustrated with it. After that, it'll only do more harm than good to a point where you'd even have the impulse of redoing everything when it was already impossible for you to make it even more perfect than it already was.

Peter already saw it happen a couple of times to know it as fact. So, he always made sure to step in when needed.

"You're overworking yourself again, sweetheart."

"I'm not—"

Peter cut you off with his lips on yours, his heart melting when your giggles hit his ears as he gently pushed you backward until you were completely lying down, him hovering above you. Laughter echoed around the room as he went to litter your face with loud, smacking kisses, only stopping once he was sure that there was no skin left untouched. Then, with a fake, exaggerated yawn, Peter let his arms give out, his whole body landing right on top of you, a soft oomf escaping your lips as he pinned you down the bed with his weight.

"Pete, let me go," you sighed. You tried to push him off but with no ounce of success since, of course, he's much stronger than you. "I need to add a few more things."

"No, you don't." Peter buried his face in the crook of your neck then, earning more giggles from you when he rubbed his nose on your skin as if he was a cat. "What you need is to give your genius brain a break," he mumbled, kissing your jaw softly before adding, "While I need to be given your cuddles."

You let out the cutest squeak when Peter sneaked his hands under your—his—hoodie, your whole body shivering when his cold palms made contact with your warm skin.

"Sorry," he chuckled against your neck, snuggling closer as he curled his fingers around your waist, caressing your sides tenderly with his thumb.

"You're cold."

"And you're so warm."

You shifted into a more comfortable position when Peter moved his hands to rest flat against your bare back, the fabric of the hoodie moving along with his wrist as he trailed his fingers up and down your spine comfortingly.

"Did you wash your hands, Parker?"

He chuckled, "Course I did. Why do you think they're cold in the first place?"

"You better have," you grumbled. Peter planted a kiss on your skin in response, silently confirming that he did wash his hands after going to the bathroom. Your fingers thread their way into his hair, scratching his scalp exactly how he liked it making a shiver run down his spine. You giggled, "Comfy?"

"Super comfy," Peter groaned, his whole body sinking into you more as he nuzzled his face on your neck with a deep exhale.

"Good," you sighed as you relaxed under him, a smile tugging at Peter's lips when you started drawing random shapes on his t-shirt-clad back with your free hand.

Comfortable silence rang in the air after that. Well, the room was mostly silent but for Peter, his ears were filled with your heartbeat, a steady sound that puts him immediately in a calm, peaceful state.

Every time he listened to it, somehow, his own heart would gradually start syncing up with yours. It was even the same the other way around when you're the one listening to his heartbeat when you lay on his chest. His enhanced hearing sometimes had a hard time picking up which thump was yours and which was his. It's cheesy but it's like they're beating together as one, and it's one of Peter's favorite things.

Shifting in his place, he glanced at his bedside table for a moment, his smile widening when he saw the small ghost lamp you giddily bought for him the minute the calendar showed October 1st. It was part of a set, the Jack-O-Lantern string lights draped on the wall right by his bed, coating the bland paint with an orange glow. You had the same decorations in your dorm room, a matching one to be exact. It was the most endearing thing seeing you get all excited when you both put it up together.

You love Halloween.

Peter found it adorable, especially when you told him you love going out of your way to dress up each year whenever you had the means to do so.

"You haven't told me what you're dressing up as at the Halloween party tomorrow," he asked.

It was an annual thing that one of your friends threw, yet this was going to be the first one that you and Peter get to attend together, more so, as a couple. You invited him last year but a certain duty called which took longer to get done so he wasn't able to make it.

He still felt bad despite you reassuring him that it was okay that he missed it. That also meant he didn't get to see your angel costume, which was part of the reason why Peter hated missing it.

He really wanted to see you in an angel costume.

But then again, you didn't need to dress up for you to look like an angel in his eyes—cheesy, he knows, but true, nonetheless.

Either way, this was going to be the first time Peter will see you dressed up as something for Halloween. He found himself getting curious, but also quite excited to see what you were going as this year.

"I'd rather not say."

Peter lifted his head to meet your eyes with a pout. "Why not?"

"You'll tease me about it," you hummed, fingers brushing back the stray strands that landed on his forehead. "Besides, I want it to be a surprise."

That piqued his interest even more.

"Can I have a guess?" Peter pushed himself up, resting on his forearms as he met your gaze with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him skeptically. "No?"

"Hmm, is it skin tight?" he guessed anyway, head dipping so he could connect his lips with your jaw, kissing it a couple of times before trailing down your neck.

"Maybe," you giggled, head tilting to the side to give him more access. Your hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you let him shower you with affection.

Peter's brows rose at that, your answer heightening his curiosity. Placing one open mouth kiss on the space just below your ear, he asked, "Is it made of latex?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Leather then?" he chuckled.

"Why leather?" you asked, confusion with a hint of amusement coating your tone.

"So...lace?" he hummed, voice dropping an octave. He lightly nipped your neck, his smirk widening when you gasped.

"What?"

Peter didn't know what he found more adorable, the sweet sound of your giggle that followed his incessant kisses, or the fact that you still hadn't caught onto what he was implying.

You're one smart woman, no questions asked, but you did have your oblivious moments sometimes.

"Is it a one-piece or a two-piece?" Peter continued, moving over to the other side of your neck, alternating between gentle kisses and light bites, a sigh reverberating out of you every time his tongue darted out to soothe your skin. "Maybe three?" he added.

"Still have no idea where you're going with this."

"Does it have something to do with bunny ears—"

"Peter!" you squeaked, both your hands covering your face, your lovely laugh getting muffled by your palms.

You two had been intimate before, more than a couple of times. You weren't each other's firsts either—well, you both were each other's seconds to be specific. Peter felt glad that you two got to share that experience. It's special in its own right. But still, you always got shy and downright flustered whenever Peter would joke or tease you about anything involving stuff in the bedroom.

He always found your reactions absolutely adorable, hence why he tends to throw them out a lot. Sexual innuendos, dirty jokes and even explicit reminders as to the things you'd done together—without crossing the line, of course. Plus, you reassured him you didn't mind it, hell, you'd even throw some back at him. You simply couldn’t help being shy whenever he did so.

Peter sat up, his knees straddling your hips as he removed your hands from your face. Interlacing your fingers together, he pinned them on the pillow on either side of your head, preventing you from hiding anymore.

"Should I take that as a yes?" he drawled huskily, wiggling his eyebrows at you, leaning down until his face was hovering inches above yours.

"You're a dork," you giggled, tilting your head up to peck his lips. His heart warmed at the gesture.

"Is that why you want it as a surprise?" he said, narrowing his eyes at you, adding with a half-joking, half-serious tone, "But only for me, right?"

"Peter!" you laughed heartily, the corners of your eyes crinkling, your beautiful face glowing with joy in a way that Peter couldn't help but close the distance as he leaned in for a kiss.

"What?" he chuckled against your lips. He released your hands from his grasp only for him to drape them around his neck, your fingers quick to play with his hair.

"How are you always horny?" you teased, delight coating your tone.

Peter pulled away with an exaggerated gasp, jaw slacked as he glared at you, feigning offense. "I am not always horny."

"Sure, you're not," you snorted.

"Fine, maybe, most of the time," he grumbled, sitting back up again so he could have a full look at you, so beautiful underneath him, especially with that wonderful smile gracing your lips. He tilted his head, hands running up and down your sides. "Then again, have you looked at yourself in the mirror? When my girlfriend looks like this, how can I not be horny?"

"I'm in sweats and a hoodie," you pointed out, shaking your head with a giggle.

"Which still looks very sexy on you, F-Y-I," he said firmly, no teasing, no bullshitting. You could be wearing a potato sack for all he cares and you'd still look incredibly gorgeous and stunning in his eyes. Smirking, he added, "And when it's my hoodie, even sexier—fully naked, though, now that's the sexiest."

You threw your head back with a hearty laugh.

Peter dipped his head then, unable to resist placing more kisses on your stretched out neck. He only pulled away once he was satisfied with the giggles you emitted.

"You're such a teenage boy," you hummed, pushing back the brown locks that covered his forehead with a smile, eyes glowing with amusement but also, adoration as they looked through his.

He rolled his eyes teasingly. "I'm closer to twenty-one than nineteen so technically," he paused, clearing out his throat, making his voice deeper as he said, "I'm a man now."

"Right," you laughed, nodding slowly, scrunching up your face. "Even though you just turned twenty about three months ago."

"It's basic math, sweetheart," he snorted.

"I say your basic math is flawed, Mr. Parker," you challenged.

He grinned at that, lips finding your jaw again, and it didn't take too long for him to be back to painting the warm skin of your neck with kisses.

Peter's addicted to kissing your neck, he will wholeheartedly admit. He's addicted to the soft sound of your giggles and satisfied sighs, to the delicious moans when he kisses it a little harder. He's addicted to the comforting warmth of your skin, the lovely scent that's so you mixed with your body wash, either marrying or aiding with how sweet you taste. He's addicted to the thump of your pulse, its accelerating pace whenever he'd press his lips against it, and being so close that he could hear your heartbeat entirely clear, especially with his enhanced abilities.

The culmination of every little thing made Peter feel safe, at peace, at home, right here in your arms with his face buried in the crook of your neck.

Or maybe he might've been a vampire in another life for all he knows. Then again, that wouldn't make sense because they're immortal. They wouldn't have a second life...right?

Kissing your neck comes close to second to kissing your lips though, because that—whew, that's a whole other, more powerful drug Peter's addicted to.

"Steering back to the topic before you distracted me," he spoke after a few moments, lifting his head just so he could raise a brow at you. "So, not a playboy bunny?"

"Peter!"

"I'm trying to guess!"

"And I told you not to guess!"

"Fine, if you're not telling me then I'll keep mine a surprise, too," he grumbled, feigning disappointment as he dropped his whole body on you again.

"Oh."

That was when your fingers started to scratch behind his ear, a low moan reverberating in the back of Peter's throat as his whole body shivered and then melted into your hold.

"Oh, yeah," he groaned.

"You're like a cat sometimes," you teased with a giggle.

"It just feels really nice—ugh," he let out another groan when you started running your other hand up and down his back, nails scratching his skin lightly, comfortingly over the fabric of his t-shirt. "Especially when you do that, too." He kissed your skin dazedly, nuzzling his face on your neck before adding, "But I know what you're trying to do."

You shrugged, mumbling, "I'm not trying to do anything."

"You're trying to lull me to sleep so you can push me off and get your computer," he pointed out, which made you laugh.

"Sometimes it's concerning how well you know me," you joked, though he could hear how amazed and grateful you were, simply at the fact of him being extra attentive when it came to you.

It was the same the other way around too. You know him, all his little ticks and flaws, just like that back of your hand. Peter smiled against your skin, his heart melting ten times over at the simple thought.

"What if I tell you I can actually read minds?"

"Well, I am very sure you can't."

"What's your proof?"

"Because if you can then, you would've already begun doing the things I'm thinking of right now."

Peter's head shot up at the suggestive tone in your voice. And with the way you were chewing on your bottom lip, eyes slightly a shade darker, it was enough to confirm that you were indeed thinking of something far from innocent.

"Oh?"

He sat up fully, your hands sliding down his body and landing on the bed on either side of you. Peter's fingers curled around your thighs then, spreading your legs apart so he could kneel in between.

"Is that so?" he murmured, teasingly moving his hands up, pushing the fabric of the hoodie to slowly expose your skin, inch by inch until he was able to run his thumbs just under the swell of your breasts, nothing in the way given that you were braless underneath.

"Mm-hmm." You nodded with a smirk, wrapping your legs around his waist, urging him to come closer. Peter leaned down with a deep chuckle, face hovering above yours.

"And by doing things, you mean..." he trailed off, his hands moving further up until you sucked in a breath, a soft moan following suit when his fingers squeezed. He smirked smugly. "Doing you, right?"

"Just kiss me, Parker."

Being with you, sharing sweet and simple to steamy and spicy moments with you, it's pure bliss and Peter wouldn't want it to end.

But along with the constant want of his heart to never let you go, his mind also never failed to remind him that with that kind of commitment, comes along the if and when he should tell you his well-kept secret:

That he's Spider-Man.

It wasn't due to the lack of trust per se, it was more so him trying to protect you. The whole cliché of a superhero keeping his identity a secret to protect those he loves by not giving his enemies the upper hand to use them against him—you know, that stuff.

With a side dish of not wanting you to carry that burden of worry and panic whenever he's out there doing his crime-fighting job. He'd seen what it's done to weigh down Aunt May, stress befalling her most, if not, all nights he was out on patrol. Peter didn't really want to hand that baggage over to you too.

So yeah, it wasn't a trust thing. Because he'd grown to trust you with every part of his enhanced being—Peter trusts you with his life.

And he knew you felt the exact same way solely from the fact that you always believe him each time he'd tell you a half-assed reason why he was out later than usual. You never question him whenever he'd tell you a lie as to why there was suddenly a bruise or a cut on his skin, one that would heal merely a few hours later.

As he said, you're one smart woman. It wasn't surprising to see the doubt that would flicker in your eyes whenever he'd throw an excuse that simply didn't add up. Yet every time, that doubt would only last for a split second before it'd disappear completely. Instead of questioning it, you let your judgment be somewhat clouded all because you trust him.

You trust that he wouldn't lie to you, trust his word above anything else.

The guilt would always chew him up from the inside out, harshly and ravenously until it would eat him whole.

Because if there was one thing Peter hated the most in this world, it was lying to you.

Yet he found himself spewing one after another on Halloween night.

•••

When Peter moved nearer to campus, he made sure to pick an apartment where he didn't have to deal with a roommate and with a window situated right by an alleyway. It made it easier for him to sneak in and out without raising much suspicion. He didn't have any incident of getting caught so far, not even remotely close encounters. He was always extra careful.

But tonight, Peter simply made the mistake of not checking his phone first before sneaking back into the window of his room.

He was cutting patrol short. After all, he had a Halloween party to attend.

And as always, timing was never short of impeccable.

The first second his feet landed on the hardwood floor. The next second he pulled his mask off his face and threw it across the room. Then, after that, the door swung open.

Peter spun around reflexively, aimed and ready to fire his web shooters until his eyes landed on…

You.

His heart stopped, beating again but at twice the normal pace. But the reason for his heart suddenly joining the marathon was not because you caught him in his suit, nor was it the likelihood of exposing his secret to you far too early than he intended to—oh no, definitely not that.

It was because he caught you wearing his suit.

You were dressed like him.

You were dressed as Spider-Man.

Peter pointed at you just as you pointed at him.

Two pairs of eyes blinked comically, both your mouths opening and closing like you were two fishes having a conversation out of water. You pointed at your own selves and then back at each other again, heads tilting to the side as your brows furrowed in confusion as did Peter's.

It was hilarious borderline freaky how you mirrored each other's movements.

Well, maybe you're just soulmates like that—yeah, Peter definitely likes that thought more.

One thing was for sure, though:

You're one hell of a gorgeous reflection.

"Spider-Man?!" You both squeaked at the exact same time.

Peter was doused in confusion from head to toe as he gaped at you, wondering about all the 'where' and 'how' and why on earth were you dressed as Spider-Man?!

Then it hit him.

"You'll tease me about it."

How did he not figure it out?

Peter found out early on how you were a fan of the famous web-slinger. He caught you doodling the superhero's mask in class to be specific, which Peter found so goddamn cute.

He always, always teased you about it every chance he got. It was simply because he found amusement in the fact that you had no idea that the superhero you'd been admiring from afar—quite literally as you'd only ever seen him swing above the New York, as you'd told him—was the same person who you'd invite over for a late night cuddle session, both innocent and…not so much.

Plus, the way you'd get all shy about your little crush was way too adorable that Peter just couldn't stop himself from poking you about it.

But still, it didn't really cross his mind that you'd actually be dressed as him for Halloween.

Okay, he wasn't going to lie and say that he hadn't thought about it before, letting you wear his suit for fun—fine, maybe for his own self-indulgent reasons, too. But that was for his own real suit, not a costume.

Still, Peter had to give props to whoever made this replica because damn did it look so fucking good on you.

It fitted you perfectly, hugging you—tightly, might he add—in all the right places in a way that showed your figure, one he'd come to memories and adore. It made him wonder just how long you'd been preparing this, and if you actually had it custom-made because by the looks of it, it was catered to your exact measurements. Well, you did mention how one of your friends was an expert on the sewing machine so maybe they helped tweak the costume to perfection.

Because to be completely honest—and maybe a little biased—it looked much better on you than it ever will on him and it wasn't even the real thing!

Well, maybe, not yet.

This was taking finding-it-hot-when-you-wear-his-clothes to a whole new cosmic level that's for sure.

And you donning his colors and symbols was definitely much, much sexier than any playboy bunny costume.

"Pete, y-you, how—what?" you stammered, still standing by his doorway as you stared at him in both shock and confusion.

"Surprise?" he said, trying his best to not let his smile come out as fake. "I wanted to match with you."

White lie, number one.

You tilted your head, the crease on your forehead deepening. "But why did you act so surprised?"

"I—uh, because I wasn't expecting you to burst through the door five minutes earlier?" He scratched the back of his neck. It wasn't exactly a lie, but it wasn't the full truth, either.

"Didn't I text you that I was coming early?"

"I was changing so I didn't get to check my phone."

White lie number two.

"But how'd you know?" You looked at him curiously, waving your hands over yourself. "About my costume, I mean."

"I may or may not have seen something red and blue in your closet—"

White lie number three.

"—and then when I asked you about it yesterday and you said I'll tease you about it, I figured it out."

For someone who didn't enjoy lying, it for sure was surprising how plausible his excuses were. Perhaps it came with the job, that with living this dual life, lying simply became second nature.

Peter wasn't proud of it. Not one bit.

You stayed silent, a cross between a frown and a pout playing on your lips. He could practically see the gears in your head turning.

And too stunned that you still remained standing by the doorway.

Peter walked over to you, reaching out with both hands. Your confusion didn't waver by one bit but you still gladly took them, fingers interlacing as you let him pull you deeper into his room.

After closing the door behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you in his embrace, dipping his head to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

"You're just one cute Spider-Fan, aren't you?"

"You find it weird," you said, tone shy, pout growing more prominent.

"What? Of course not!" he quickly said, brows furrowed. Weird was so far from what he'd describe you right now. Hot, cute, sexy, adorable, gorgeous and all his, more like. "I mean, I'm literally wearing the same thing."

"True," you hummed, eyes raking over him from head to toe. "You had this idea last minute?"

"Yup." He nodded, willing his ears to stop burning before you'd notice. "That's why I told you I had errands to run to first and I'll meet you here at eight—"

Peter jumped when his alarm started blaring, signaling that it was, in fact, eight o'clock. The time you were supposed to arrive.

It might as well have been a lie detector at this point. That's the fourth lie he'd concocted in a span of five minutes.

"Where'd you get your suit? It looks really good," you hummed, hands trailing from his broad shoulders and down his biceps, and then squeezing, your gaze burning through the same path. "Really, really good."

Peter blushed, stomach fluttering when you rested your palms over it, so unashamedly feeling his abs with a pleased hum and an appreciative nod.

If it was any other day, he would've teased you about it, reveled in the way you were boosting his ego. But he was too busy trying to create more lies to even dwell on it.

"It's like a prototype, you know, at work?" He scrunched up his face. "I borrowed it from Stark Industries."

Make that the fifth.

Your eyes widened, hands jerking away with a gasp, "You've got a million dollars on you?!"

"What? No! No," he rushed, softly wrapping his fingers around your wrists before placing them back on his shoulders. "It's not like the real, real thing you know, it's just...fabric."

Six lies in less than eight minutes.

"Fabric. Right. So they just let you borrow it easily?" You narrowed your eyes at him. There was a teasing lilt in your tone, but Peter wasn't quite sure just how much you were joking when you said,

"Or maybe you're...Spider-Man."

Just come clean, Parker.

"Pfft, that's ridiculous," he waved you off, chuckling so dryly as he took a step back. He fussed about in his room, picking up his scattered clothes to avoid your eyes. "Spider-Man wears red and black, doesn't he?"

"I—yeah," you muttered, voice turning shy. "I did notice that, sometimes."

Peter looked at you then, standing straight and spreading his arms to showcase his suit, honing in on his point. "Red and blue."

It somehow worked in his favor that the other one needed to get washed. It was at May's at the moment—okay, look, it was the only place he could wash it without the judgy eyeing and suspicious looks, alright? May just so happen to offer that she'd clean it for him. Who was he to refuse that?

"It's one of the very old prototypes. They used it to show the real Spider-Man the design and see how it looks," he explained. "They don't use it anymore. They were about to throw it away so I asked if I could borrow it."

That's one hell of a hefty seventh lie—right, Peter will stop counting. Something was telling him he was going to be spewing more than just a couple of lies tonight. He'd only feel worse if he kept tallying them.

You stood in the middle of his room with your lips pursed, brows deeply furrowed as you picked at your gloved fingers. He could tell that there was something else bothering you—well, if you believed all his excuses, that is.

"Hey, come here," he murmured, beckoning you over with open arms. Peter's heart melted when you slipped into his embrace, hands locking on the small of his back as you kissed his chin. A sweet affection, but he couldn't see past the faint frown that graced your lips. "What's wrong?"

"I feel a little bad," you admitted.

"Feel bad about what?"

"Because maybe you wanted to dress up as something else," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. He could practically feel your pout against his skin as you added, "I feel like I took that choice away from you."

"Hey, no, you didn't," he chuckled, gently prying you out of your hiding spot to cup your face. "I didn't have much else planned."

He mostly bought a cheap red and black cape along with fake fangs. He was just going to pair it with the suit he wore during homecoming—well, if it still fits, anyway. If not then he would've settled for some black jeans and a white, long sleeved shirt, slick his hair back, borrow some of your makeup to darken his eyes and call it a day. So it wasn't exactly a loss that he didn't get to wear it tonight.

"I wanted to do this for you," he hummed, offering you a tender smile.

There was no doubt that he'd do anything for you, no matter what. But saying those words right now didn't seem like the sweetest thing to say. Not when it didn't hold any truth in this particular circumstance.

It started to taste bitter when your eyes lit up, your smile just as bright. And when you tilted your head to give him a quick but appreciative kiss—a gesture that would usually make Peter's heart burst at the seams—this time, it only made him feel guiltier.

It just didn't feel right being praised for something that was a lie.

"You're the sweetest, you know?"

Peter's heart squeezed at that proud glint in your eyes. But he quickly brushed off the guilt with a smile. "You like it?"

"I do, very much," you said, grinning so widely. "How do I look?"

"Fucking gorgeous," Peter gushed, smirking as his arms snaked around you, hands traveling south to that lovely ass, the suit doing wonders in accentuating it. He squeezed it playfully. "Like, yes Miss Spider-Ma'am, shoot me with those webs and pin me to bed while you ride my—"

"Peter!" you squeaked, hitting his chest lightly with a hearty laugh. Your glare had no touch of fire as you shook your head. "Whatever happened to that shy, stuttering, cutely awkward boy I met in class?"

"Don't bring that up," he whined, head dropping, face pressed against your neck.

You always teased him about his chair-pull-out incident—your choice of words, not his—and how it was quite the move to swoon a girl. Simply accidental but subtly effective. It was safe to say he still got a little embarrassed about it despite you telling him you found it endearing.

"Ah, there he is," you giggled.

"It's been nine months, I think I've overgrown being shy around you," he said. And it wasn't only time that contributed to that. Peter just felt so calm and comfortable around you. It simply was so easy, talking to you about everything, sharing his innermost thoughts, being with you. It was a blissful breeze.

"Yeah, you have. Before, you always got so shy and so, so red whenever you tell me how pretty I am," you started, eyes sparkling with mischief as you played with his hair on the nape of his neck. "But now, you don't even stutter when you say how pretty I look when I'm choking on your co—"

"Y/N!" Peter burst out laughing, the burning blush traveling from his cheeks to the whole expanse of his neck.

"Don't dish out what you can't take, Parker."

He rolled his eyes. "Pfft, I dare you to finish that sentence or I'll finish it for you."

"Hmm, that's what you always do, isn't it?" You tilted your head, eyelashes fluttering.

"Want me to do that now?" Peter smirked as his palm found its way back atop your spandex-covered cheeks, giving it a few loving taps.

"Nope, because we need to go," you giggled, pecking his lips before escaping his hold. "We're way past being fashionably late."

"You're not playing fair," he huffed.

"I'm not playing anything." You shook your head with a chuckle, opening the door and offering your hand out. "Come on, you can survive a semi."

"You're so mean to me sometimes," Peter grumbled, retrieving his mask and slipping it into the newly added pocket in his suit before turning back to you, glaring with no malice at all. "Making fun of my semi—which you caused, by the way—when you didn't even greet me with a proper kiss when you got here."

"I didn't?" you gasped sarcastically, your gloved fingers interlacing as you made your way out of his apartment. "I'm sorry, Pete, those thick thighs are just so distracting. It's turned my brain to mush."

"The objectification!" Peter said in feigned offense, though he couldn't stop his cheeks from burning at the simple thought of you checking him out.

You laughed, pressing a hand on his chest to steady yourself as you pressed your lips against his.

Peter grinned, humming in satisfaction, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you warmly against his chest. Tilting his head to the side, he tried to pry your lips open with his tongue, letting out a sound between a whine and a groan when you denied him access.

"Let's not get too ahead now," you giggled, pushing him away gently. "We're already so late."

"Fine," he sighed, pouting like a petulant child. He let you pull him along as you made your way out of the building only to stop momentarily as he realized something. You looked at him quizzically. He smirked. "You wanna know exactly what happened to that shy, stuttering, cutely awkward boy you met in class?"

"What?"

"He got blessed with really, really, really good pus—"

"Parker!"

•••

Peter's stomach was in knots.

It could be the unrelenting guilt that's been bubbling in his gut since you showed up at his place, one that only grew more rabid as you two stepped into the party. He couldn't help it. Not when you'd been proudly smiling and gushing about how you two were matching all because he was an amazing, selfless, and such a sweetheart of a boyfriend.

Or maybe it was just him getting turned on seeing you dressed in his suit. It was doing things to him, seeing you repping the red and blue proudly as the Spider-Man insignia sat prettily in the middle of your chest. He hadn't even touched on the fact that the fabric left so little to the imagination. And when Peter had already memorized every perfectly imperfect inch of your body—hell, he might as well have x-ray vision, it wouldn't have made a difference.

A glance down...

Both.

It was both.

Peter had offered to get you a drink after you'd introduced him to your friend, the host of the party. It made him seem like a gentleman, and yes, his intention was pure. But he also really needed a breather away from your proximity because one more second pressed up against you and he was just about to drag you into the nearest bathroom. And he would've, but it just didn't seem ideal to whisk you away when you just arrived a couple of minutes ago.

Making your usual drink, Peter sighed, willing himself to calm down, especially when he couldn't really hide much under his suit. And best believe it's been growing tighter by the minute.

After checking one last time to make sure it wasn't too noticeable, he made his way back to where he'd left you with your friend.

"Hey, sweet thang."

Peter outwardly cringed at the overheard words. It was honestly part of the reason why his enhanced hearing was more a curse than anything else, getting to hear conversations he'd rather not know about.

He would gladly admit he'd never been good at flirting with girls. Hell, it took a while for him to get comfortable flirting with you, even when you already got together. He'd even come out and downright say he was bad at it. But he sure as hell wasn't this awful.

Who the hell calls someone sweet thang?

Although, the secondhand embarrassment he felt was quick to change into something else, something more primal when he found out who the guy was talking to.

"Female Spider-Man, nice," the dude whistled, and Peter could already picture him checking you out. Hell, he could sense the disrespect from that sentence alone. It made his blood boil. "Maybe I can know your secret identity?"

Surely enough, Peter found a guy dressed as a caveman—quite fitting, to be honest—right in front of you, too close for comfort as he leaned against the wall, one arm against the concrete to seem smooth and cool about it. Your friend was nowhere in sight, probably doing her rounds around the house. It was her party, after all.

And you, ever the sweet and shy you, stood in your place with your arms around your body, a stance that showed you were clearly uncomfortable. And rightfully so. Peter couldn't see your face since your back was turned to him, but he could already picture your forced smile. What he could clearly see, though, was where the dude's eyes were skimming around, blatantly and disgustingly on the places where they should not be.

"Peter Parker," he interjected, appearing swiftly by your side and hooking an arm around your waist, your body immediately sinking into his hold. He handed you your drink with a smile, his heart melting when you kissed his jaw with a soft thanks. He turned back to the caveman, offering his free hand as a means to introduce himself. "The boyfriend."

"U-Uh, yeah," he stumbled, wincing when Peter gripped his hand just a little bit firmer when he shook it. "Cool costume, man."

"Thanks, it matches with my girlfriend," Peter boasted, chest puffed out, grin wide and proud.

The guy nodded with a clipped laugh, quickly turning to leave.

Peter kept his glare on him to make sure he stayed walking away.

His eyes snapped back to you when you erupted into fits of laughter.

"What?" he asked, his blush creeping back on his cheeks.

"You didn't have to embarrass him like that," you chuckled, turning to face him, your arms finding purchase around his shoulders, drink carefully held behind him.

"He called you sweet thang, I think he's embarrassed himself enough," Peter scoffed. Squeezing your waist, his jaw clenched. "He should be thankful I didn't punch him in the eyes. Checking you out like you're a piece of meat, fucking pervert."

"Hmm, if this is how you are with me wearing this," you paused, a smile laced with amusement as your fingers removed the fake web that somehow ended up in his hair, one he didn't even notice until you flicked it away. "I wonder how you're going to act if I actually wore a playboy bunny—"

"Shut up," Peter grumbled, nudging your nose with the tip of his with a pout. "I did say only for me."

You nodded, chuckling, "You did."

"I mean, I wouldn't have stopped you if you wanted to—"

"I didn't, don't worry."

"You are free to wear whatever you want. I will never control that—"

"I know."

"But I will do the necessary precautions to ward off these disrespectful bastards—"

"I know," you giggled, kissing his lips to shut him up for a moment. "Which I don't really mind."

He raised a brow. "That so?"

"Mm-hmm," You nodded, teeth gnawing at your lip, a twinkle coating your irises. "You are kinda hot when you're a bit possessive."

Peter was sure his face matched the color of his suit then.

He swiftly hid into your neck, both arms around you tightening as he groaned in embarrassment. You laughed at that, free hand smoothing over the hair on the back of his head before you turned to kiss his temple.

"You're mine," he grumbled against your skin, lightly nipping on the spot just under your jaw, suckling in affection before smoothing it out with his tongue. "And I want everyone to know that."

Peter couldn't stop his grin when he caught your whimper. It was faint, barely audible, but not enough to get past his enhanced hearing.

The ability had its plus sides, too.

He kissed your neck a little harder in response, his heart—along with something else—jumping when you tugged his hair with a gasp. He was about to ask if you two should just ditch the party when a voice interrupted.

"Damn, look at you two!" Gwen—your best friend, dressed as, Peter assumed, that evil lady in that dalmatians movie—exclaimed, giving you a hug and him a commemorative fist bump. And going off the grin on her face, she knew exactly what she just interrupted.

Peter only knew her through you, and ever since you introduced them, she always gave him grief about how he stole you from her, in every sense of the word. It's been a running joke ever since, both of them acting like they don't like each other, stemming from them having this so-called 'rivalry' over your affections—all in good spirits, of course.

"Yeah, he surprised me with his costume," you laughed, sidling back to his side. "Absolute cheese wanting to match and everything."

Peter would've laughed at how hilariously quick it was for the horniness to be replaced by guilt if he wasn't the one suffering from it.

"Yeah, yeah, vomit," she scoffed, rolling her eyes teasingly.

"Jealous much, Stacy?"

"You know I can steal her back from you so easily, Parker."

"I'd like to see you try."

Gwen smirked when she turned to you. "Quick! I need to introduce you to someone, you know, to get a feel of her for me. Since your bullshit radar is usually on point."

Peter laughed when Gwen all but dragged—well, 'stole'—you away from him. He nodded encouragingly followed by a reassuring smile when you glanced at him over your shoulder, waving you off to tell you he was fine being left alone.

It wasn't long before Peter found a few of his friends from class, anyway, lost in the conversations of outfit compliments, college—both good and how much it sucks to some— and everything in between.

•••

Peter wasn't sure how long he'd been away from you. It could've been five minutes, it could've been fifteen—hell, it could've been a minute and time just simply dragged on without you by his side.

Either way, he missed you.

Call him clingy, he didn't care. All he cared about was finding you at this party that got a little more crowded as the night grew later.

Peter heard your laugh first before he saw you.

"So, what's the secret?"

"Secret to what?" he heard you ask.

"Holding down a perfect boyfriend."

"There's no secret," you said nonchalantly. "He's staying because he wants to, not because I have to 'hold him down,' or anything."

Peter found himself nodding in agreement, following your voice that led him to the living room.

He's undoubtedly down bad for you, though. So there won't be any leaving happening unless he decidedly becomes the biggest idiot in the universe. There's not even a fleeting thought of it on his part.

"You two make it look so easy."

"It is, but also, kinda not. I mean, we still have our differences, we still fight sometimes, and like any relationship, it still requires some work but Peter—" you sighed, and he felt his heart warm when he could practically hear your smile. "He's just so understanding and patient, you know? It helps that he makes me feel comfortable to voice out my thoughts about our relationship or even on something else, and whether it's good or bad—especially the bad. Like, I don't feel scared to talk to him about something that's bothering me because he never gave me a reason to. I guess we just made sure to have that safe space and to always, always be honest with each other—"

His heart sank.

Peter couldn't take it anymore.

It was eating him up, the guilt gnawing into his flesh each time he'd hear you sing his praises.

He didn't feel like he deserved it, not when he'd been lying to you for a good amount of time, even more on this night alone.

Within good reason, yes, but still.

It wasn't fair to you because you were right. You'd been so open and honest with him all this time.

And it was killing him that he couldn't say the same thing.

Maybe it was time to finally put an end to the secrets.

You yelped in surprise when he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Chuckling, he kissed your cheek as a silent apology, nuzzling his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder soon after.

"Hello to you, too," you giggled.

"Hi," he hummed, flashing you a small smile before turning to your friends. "Can I steal this attractive arachnid for a moment?"

Peter didn't really wait for a response as he interlaced your fingers and guided you toward the front door. His mind was too preoccupied, heart thumping loud and erratic as his nerves bit at his skin, all from the fact that he was really going to do this.

He was going to tell you the truth.

"Attractive arachnid?" you teased.

"Would you have preferred: sexy spider?" he chuckled, but too distracted by the chaos in his mind, he didn't realize how nervous it sounded.

"Hey," you hummed, pulling his arm to get him to stop. "What's up?"

"Can we talk?" he breathed out, eyes darting around before turning back to you. "Outside?"

•••

"Pete, is everything okay?" you asked once you both ended up on the building's rooftop. Waiting until you got back home just seemed too far away, too much time given to overthink things.

"Yeah! Of course it is!" he squeaked, unconsciously starting to pace as he mulled over how he was going to break the news to you. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Because you're not acting it," you pointed out, stepping in his way, cupping his cheeks to halt his movement. You brushed your gloved thumbs across his cheeks, the fabric rough against his skin to juxtapose the sweetness of your touch. "You're worrying me."

"Everything's okay, it's just—" Peter breathed out shakily, wrapping his fingers around your wrists and pressing your palms against his cheeks a little firmer, hoping that it would anchor him, calm the raging beat of his heart and the absolute storm that disturbed his mind. "I need to tell you something."

You nodded encouragingly, eyes never short at showing him comfort, perfectly married with your sweet smile. "You can tell me anything, you know that."

Peter screwed his eyes shut, leaning in to press a kiss on your forehead, the tip of your nose, a sweet peck on your lips before pulling away, just enough so he could properly meet your gaze. He needed to see you once he'd say the words. So with a deep breath, he finally admitted,

"I'm Spider-Man."

Peter had been imagining this moment for months. He'd already flipped through various outcomes as to what your reaction could be.

He'd expected you to be angry because he'd been lying to you all this time, keeping such a huge secret from you that you'd start doubting if he ever trusted you in the first place. Perhaps you'd be a bit taken aback, then, overwhelmed, ask him some space to think about whatever it was to think about. Worst case scenario, you'd leave him because it'll be too much on your plate, having a boyfriend who went out every night into danger, the possibility of him never coming back to knock on your window always in the air.

What he hoped for the most was that you'd probably end up confused at first, slowly piecing up the puzzle but would inevitably end with you being understanding, supportive, loving, and maybe kiss him senseless and tell him how proud you were of him.

Not once did he expect you to burst out laughing.

"Me too," you cooed in between chuckles, deepening his confusion when you took both of his hands in yours. "We are Spider-Man, Peter."

"Wha—no, I'm serious," he insisted, voice almost turning into a whine. Stepping away just so you could see his whole self properly, spreading his arms for good measure. "I really am Spider-Man."

"Wait," you hummed, amusement dancing in your eyes. "Are you jealous?"

Peter blinked.

"What?"

"Is this because I have a crush on—" you gasped, a look of realization crossing your face. "No wonder why you've been acting strange when you saw my costume!"

"That's not—"

"Is that the real reason why you wore the costume, too?" you cut him off. "So you can prove to me how you look better and even hotter in it than Spider-Man?"

"You think I look hot in this suit…" Peter trailed off, eyebrows going up to his hairline, amused. "Hotter than Spider-Man?"

He honestly didn't know if he should feel offended about that revelation, or quite pleased with himself. How was it even possible to one-up his alter ego in the looks department when both identities share the same face and body?

Peter was downright confused.

He was trying to get his bearings straight, trying to make sense as to what was happening because this was so far from what he expected—and he expected many different things. For the limited time he got to spend preparing what he'll say to you, rehearsing countless speeches in his head to accommodate whatever your reaction will be, Peter had none in his cue cards for this.

"Of course I do, I've got a handsome boyfriend, don't I?" you said unashamedly, offering him a sweet smile as you moved closer to him. "But Pete, I still find you hot even if you're just wearing your shirt and flannel, or your worn-out Star Wars pajamas. So, you've got nothing to be worried about. It's just a simple celebrity crush, I mean, I don't even know the dude."

"Wha—no!" he groaned, unknowingly stomping his feet on the ground which, in hindsight, didn't at all help his situation. It made him look like that kid who tried convincing people he had water powers, bend it with fingers but it only happens in the shower. "I'm not jealous!"

"That's something a jealous person would say," you teased.

"Y/N," Peter whined, head thrown back as he rubbed his hands over his face, nose turning red due to the rough material of his suit.

"What?" you laughed.

He dropped his arms at his sides, pouting in full force as he looked at you pleadingly.

"Why aren't you believing me?"

It was hilarious, really, how the one time Peter needed you to trust his word at face value, something you never had a hard time doing, was also the moment you choose to be extra skeptical about it.

"Because earlier today you've been saying a lot of stuff about how you got the suit to prove you're not Spider-Man and now you're telling me you're actually Spider-Man?" you explained. "Which one should I believe?

"Well—"

"Not to mention, telling me your Spider-Man while we're both in the costume seems...I can see you're Spider-Man, you are dressed as him, but so are a few kids around the city, it being Halloween and everything. So, I don't know, it seems like an obvious joke," you let out a nervous chuckle. Then, your smile slipped, eyes softened, glazed with something different. "Are you really him?"

"Yes!" Peter groaned in frustration. "Okay, you know what—"

If you weren't going to believe his words, then he might have to take extreme measures to prove it to you.

Show it rather than say it.

"...know what?" you asked, so many emotions flashing across your features, confusion being the most prominent. "Pete?"

He ignored you, taking out his mask from the pocket in his suit. Once he slipped it on, he ran towards the ledge, hopping on top of it with ease.

"Peter, what are you doing?"

He turned to you then, slowly walking backwards.

"Hey! Stop! This isn't funny!" you warned, movement frantic as you ran towards him. "Peter, you're getting really close to the edge!"

He stopped when the only thing left standing on the concrete was the front edge of his boots.

"Parker, get down there!"

Then, he jumped.

"No!"

Peter watched your figure grow smaller as he let himself freefall down the side of the building. He spread his arms wide, so obviously showing off before he shot his web at the concrete, pulling at it rapidly to launch himself upwards into the sky.

"Woohoo!"

He flipped over your figure with a laugh, landing back on the rooftop right behind you.

You quickly turned to look at him, shock written on your features.

He took an exaggerated bow, standing back straight to pull the mask off his head.

Peter was grinning like an idiot.

"Do you believe me now?"

You marched straight towards him.

Okay, maybe Peter got way too ahead of himself by fully expecting that you'd greet him with a heartstopping kiss. But instead, he was met by a harsh swat against his chest.

"Ow!" he yelped, more in surprise than in pain. "What was that for?!"

"You fucking asshole!" you yelled. "You scared the shit out of me!"

If your cursing didn't prove how mad you were along with the culmination of the sharp sting in your tone, the absolute fire in your eyes would've done the trick.

Because if looks could kill, Peter would've already died ten times over.

"You wouldn't believe me so I had to!"

"No you fucking didn't!" you growled, pacing in front of him, arms flailing. "I was getting there! I was still processing the goddamn bomb you just dropped at me but nooooo you just had to fucking jump off a 12-story building you, you—you fucking idiot!"

"Sweetheart—"

"Don't you fucking dare sweetheart me, Peter Benjamin Parker!"

He pressed his lips shut and threw his hands up in surrender.

"You could've just shot a web or–or showed me whatever tech you have in your suit, or climbed or stuck yourself on a fucking wall—there's a lot of those here in case you didn't fucking notice by the way! Or even just answered my fucking questions like a sane person but you just—ARGH!"

You shoved him by his chest but there was no strength in the action whatsoever. And not because you were weak nor was it due to his superhero abilities. It felt like it was because of something else.

Well, if Peter simply paid attention enough, he would've noticed how your breathing was starting to get uneven—or the fact that your eyes had started to water.

"There are literally a hundred different ways for you to prove it to me than just jumping off a building, you absolute idiot!"

"Okay, baby, you're right—"

"You are fucking grounded!"

"Wha—" Peter swallowed a laugh. "Grounded?"

"Yes!" you squeaked, pointing at him accusingly. "You are sleeping on the floor for a week—no, two weeks if ever we have a sleepover whether that's your place or mine!"

"Swee—angel," Peter called softly, choosing a different pet name in case you'd snap at him again, trying his best to bite back his smile because he knew it would only make things worse. But God you were just too cute sometimes when you're mad. "Don't you think that's a bit overkill?"

"Overkill?!" you shrilled, swiftly turning on your heel and marching towards the ledge. "How about I jump off a building? How's that for overkill!"

"Hey! Okay!" Peter ran to you when you climbed midway up the ledge. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back to safety. "Point taken!"

"Let me go!" You wiggled out of his hold, walking away from him as you dug the heels of your palms over your eyes. "You are so annoying I want to fucking—GRR! I hate you!"

Then he heard it, a sniffle.

"Oh no." He rushed towards you, his chest constricting when he caught sight of the tears that ran down your cheeks. He quickly pulled you into his embrace, rubbing your back in comfort as he whispered against your temple, "Sweetheart, please don't cry."

"I thought y-you—" you whimpered, burying your face into his neck, arms snaking around him, hands balled into fists behind his back. "I thought I watched you die. You scared me so much."

Peter's heart broke.

That didn't even cross his mind.

He honestly didn't think that it would've seemed like that to you. But now looking back on it, with you still processing the information, still doubting that he actually had powers, all you saw was him jumping off a building like he had a death wish. And not only that, but falling for a short amount of time but long enough to make you think he was about to meet his de—

Wow.

He really was an idiot.

"Shit, I'm sorry," he said, squeezing you in his hold as he brushed his lips against your crown. "I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that, I'm sorry."

"You had me so worried," you choked back a sob as you gripped him tighter. "I hate you. I thought I just lost you."

"Hey, no," Peter sighed, coaxing you out of your hiding spot so he could hold your face. He frowned, chest growing tighter with each tear he caught with his thumbs. "That's never going to happen, okay?"

You nodded with a whimper, eyes screwed tightly, fingers curled around his wrists to keep his touch in place. And he was just about to kiss your tears away when suddenly—

"I love you too much to lose you."

Peter froze.

Then it was immediate, his whole body buzzing with immense happiness, his heart melting, growing, thumping ecstatically, alight. That feeling burned all too powerful inside him that it easily translated into twinkling brown eyes, a bright smile, one he was sure would take a while to get rid of.

"You love me?"

Your eyes snapped open, and he practically watched you realize your own—probably accidental—spoken words in real time.

"Look what you made me do!" you groaned, wiping away your tears harshly, attempting to pull away but he only hooked his arms around your waist, caging you in.

"So you don't hate me?" he teased.

"Fuck you!" you growled, shoving him off—successfully due to the element of surprise—before stomping away.

"Hey, come back here!" Peter called out, giggling as he ran after you.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you up and spinning you around without warning, your squeal and his laughter married perfectly as they filled the night air.

You gripped his forearms tightly for support, probably taken aback by his sheer—superhuman, if he got down to basics—strength. He'd been very careful in hiding it around you, to not let you get suspicious, especially when you never see him go to the gym ever. And now...well.

He placed you back down after your constant wiggling and protests. With one arm secured around your waist, he turned you around to face him. And before you could even have the chance to scold him, he cupped your jaw and crashed his lips against yours.

Peter grinned when he could practically feel the anger leave your system.

Your shoulders relaxed with a shaky breath, palms flat against his chest, your head tilted to take every ounce of passion he was giving you.

He groaned when you let him kiss you a little deeper, your lips parting to let him in, body curving into his to be impossibly closer. You poured just as much fervor into the kiss that left him breathless, even for his enhanced self. But still, he couldn't get enough of it—your taste, your presence, your touch, your love.

Peter stroked your cheek adoringly once he pulled away, the tips of your noses brushing as he whispered to his world,

"I love you too."

He laughed when you all but buried your face into his neck as a means to hide, so obviously flustered and, no doubt, overwhelmed. What, with everything that had happened in the last couple of minutes alone, he couldn't blame you.

So Peter just held you there, gently swaying you side to side, littering whatever part of your face he could reach with warm kisses.

He honestly couldn't wipe the smile off his face.

"We are Spider-Man," he chuckled after a moment. "That's kinda romantic, you know, means we're a team."

"Shut up," you grumbled, finally emerging out of your hiding spot only to glare at him—cutely, might he add. "So whenever I'd tell you why I have this crush on Spider-Man, all I ever did was boost your ego without even knowing."

"See? Not jealous," he smugly said. Though his grin was quick to turn sheepish as he asked, "So...what'd you think?"

Peter's heart soared when a bright smile lit up your face.

"I think you're the greatest superhero of all time," you hummed, giving him a quick kiss before scrunching up your face. "But that comes second to being the best boyfriend of all time, though."

"Definitely not complaining," Peter chuckled. "I even think the second achievement is better, I mean, best boyfriend? To the greatest woman that's ever existed all across universes? Me? What?" Peter dropped his jaw purposely as he shook his head, his heart growing even more when you threw your head back with that lovely laugh.

Your eyes were twinkling with pure joy when you met his brown ones.

"You're crazy."

"For you? Duh."

Your smile softened, fingers tracing his jaw before you cupped his face, kissing him swiftly yet sweetly before looking at him with nothing but pure adoration.

"I'm proud of you."

Peter felt his eyes water, not knowing what to say. So instead, he pulled you back in for another, deeper kiss, pouring as much of his heart into it to let you feel the words he couldn't find at the moment.

"I'm so in love with you," he sighed against your lips, arms squeezing your waist affectionately.

You giggled, "I'm so in love with you too."

God he will never, ever get tired of hearing you say that.

"Now that that's out of the way," he murmured, pulling away to scan you from head to toe, blowing out his cheeks in appreciation. "You look so fucking hot in my suit—well, copy of my suit."

"Now that that's out of the way," you repeated, rolling your eyes. "I'm actually still mad at you."

He chuckled, brushing his lips against yours, "Then let me make it up to you?"

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Wanna swing around the city with me?"

"Nope!" you scoffed, stepping away from him, arms crossed, chin up, eyes glaring.

"But you always said you wanted to know what it feels like! You kept raving about how cool it must be and if given the opportunity you'd take it and well—" He gestured at himself from head to toe, basically the opportunity presenting itself.

"Yeah, and I still do," you agreed. "But you're not using Spider-Man as a means to soften me up now, Parker, nor will you use any of the information I told you in confidence to get out of situations you put yourself in."

"It sounds so bad if you put it like that," he grumbled, smiling at you sheepishly.

"You, as Peter Parker, still decided to give me a heart attack by jumping off a building and letting me think you actually died for a second. So, you're not getting off the hook easily by wooing me with your cool superpowers and superhero tricks."

"I said I was sorry," he conceded, walking closer to you, rubbing your arms with the best pout and puppy eyes he could give you. "Come on, it'll be fun!"

You furrowed your brows, lips pursed, foot tapping against the concrete as you acted like you were thinking about it.

"Okay, fine, let's do it," you sighed after a moment, waving him off. "I was planning to show you the playboy bunny outfit I hid under my bed—"

The way Peter's body shot up straight at that sentence was comical.

"—but since you really want to swing around the city then, until next time, I guess, whenever that may be."

"Yeah, no, we should go home." He nodded hurriedly, grabbing your hand and going towards the rooftop exit.

"Horny bastard," you laughed, shaking your head.

"Wait, on second thought," he paused, looking around before grabbing your waist, pressing you against the nearby wall with a wicked grin. He let his eyes travel over you, thumbing the material that covered your figure. "I kinda want you to keep this on."

You scrunched up your face teasingly. "A bit weirdly narcissistic but okay."

"It's not like that!"

"Sure it's not," you snorted. "Should we do it in front of the mirror too?"

Peter's entire face grew hot red at the suggestion.

You gasped, eyes widening before you laughed.

"Stop it!" he groaned in embarrassment, head falling on your shoulder. "I'm going to be watching you, not me."

"I didn't even say anything!"

Peter lifted his head up to glare at you.

"I'm not narcissistic," he scoffed, rolling his eyes, even though he knew you were just joking with him. "You know how I find it cute and hot when you wear my clothes? This just takes that to a whole other level."

"Right," you snorted, pushing his hair away from his forehead. "So, bunny or spider?"

Peter stared at you, offended. "Why are you making me choose?"

"Because I can't be both," you said as if it was obvious enough.

"Yeah you can," he said, grinning at you knowingly. "You're going to become Spider-Bunny."

You looked at him weirdly. "Spider-Bunny?"

"Mm-hmm." Peter nodded enthusiastically, his hair falling over his forehead again, utter mischief sparkling in his eyes. "Like I said earlier, you're gonna web me up to the bed and crawl on top of me like a spider. Then, like a bunny, you'll be bouncing on my di—"

"Peter!" you squeaked, burying your face on his neck, your skin hot against his. "You're extra, extra horny tonight, huh?"

"Your fault, by the way," he chuckled, squeezing your waist.

"Yeah, well," you started, pulling away to smile at him, one that made him feel a little worried. And rightfully so when you added, "It's your fault you aren't getting some."

Not to act like such a dramatic and horny ass teenager but Peter's entire body actually deflated at that. He pouted at you like a petulant child who got told all the candies he'd collected for the night are going to end up in a locked cabinet somewhere.

"Why?" he all but whined.

"Grounded, remember?"

"You weren't being serious," he snorted, crossing his arms with a smug grin. But when he saw your smirk growing wider, his smile slipped. "...right?"

•••

Peter sighed.

He made sure it was loud and exaggerated enough so you could hear him from your place on the bed.

But still, you stayed quiet even though you were still awake. He knew that, and you knew that he knew that.

"Sweetheart, come on."

You ended up back at his apartment after stopping by your dorm to get an overnight bag. And now, well, you actually claimed his bed.

Sometimes he wasn't so fond of you being a woman of your word.

"My mind still hasn't changed since a minute ago, Parker."

He pouted, even though you couldn't see him. "But the floor is really cold."

Well, it was his choice to just lay in the sleeping back with only his boxers on but still.

Peter heard you sigh, his body buzzing with excitement, hoping that you'd finally cracked. And he just about cheered when you called for him.

"Get up here idiot."

He scrambled to his feet, your laugh echoing around his room when he'd managed to trip over nothing.

But when he pulled back the covers to slip in beside you, he froze.

You didn't grant him the luxury of joining you in the shower tonight so you got ready for bed separately with you going first. You were already hiding under the covers when he got out of the bathroom, only able to eye you suspiciously when you'd kept the comforter up to your chin. He got too distracted by the already prepared makeshift bed on the floor to question you about it.

Now he knew why.

"You didn't change out of it," he said, voice low, eyes dark as he pulled the covers all the way off, revealing you still in the spandex. "It’s like you want this as bad as I do."

"Maybe," you hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to pull him over you.

"You just wanted to torture me first huh, you little devil."

It was rhetorical. Both of you already knew that yes, you did want to tease him about it first.

Either way, he didn't give you any chance to respond when he immediately crashed his lips against yours.

He eagerly pried your mouth open, moaning when your tongues touched. His movements were hurried, hands running up your legs, firmly squeezing your thighs before pushing them apart so he could slip in between. He pressed his body flush against yours, groaning at the close contact, his lips unrelenting as they traveled down your jaw to your neck, kissing at your warm skin, sucking, biting.

He didn't know what it was, exactly. But it was dizzying, having you fully covered in his suit under him, a stark contrast to him on top of you half naked.

He knew one thing for sure, though.

Peter just wanted to devour you.

"You drive me insane," he growled, his hips bucking, earning a whimper from you, his mouth traveling back up to your lips so he could kiss you senseless.

"Shit, Pete, wait," you gasped, pushing at his chest, his lips disconnecting from yours with a soft pop.

He pushed himself up, resting on his forearms, both your chests heaving as he looked at you worriedly.

You bit your lip. "We can't."

"What now?" he groaned in utter frustration, all because he could see the pure mischief in your eyes, matching perfectly with your sly smirk. You were planning something, and Peter was running out of patience to try and figure it out.

"It's midnight," you said, obviously trying to stop your smile from growing.

"So…" Peter scoffed a laugh. "Does our sex life have a curfew now?"

"No," you giggled, nodding towards his digital alarm clock, one that showed the date. "Meaning, it's Novem—"

"Nope!" He shook his head fervently, going back to kissing your jaw, relishing the breathy moan you let out when he sucked the spot below your ear. "I do not hear anything."

"But it's no nu—"

"Nuh uh, nothing," he grumbled, firmly pressing his lips against yours. "Shush."

"But Pete—"

"Shut up," he groaned, burrowing his face into the crook of your neck. "I swear if you say it I'm going to cry."

"A bit overdramatic," you giggled.

"You can't just wear this outfit and expect me to wait a whole month to do something about it," he said, lightly nipping at your jaw. "That's just cruel."

"So you already admit defeat?"

"Yes! Okay, fine! I don't fucking care, just—" he whined against your skin, hips instinctively rocking against yours. "Baby, please."

"Unzip me?"

You laughed when Peter scrambled off of you immediately, waiting in anticipation as you went to kneel in the middle of the bed, your back turned to him.

He hastily shuffled to you, grabbing the zip on your costume.

But despite all his impatience, he slowly undid it, just so he had the time to make sure that every new sliver of skin was given a sweet kiss the moment it was exposed.

He hooked his fingers on the material once it went slack, gradually pulling it off your shoulders. Peter leaned closer, ready to shower you with more loving kisses.

But then he saw it.

White lace under the red and blue tights.

His grip on you tightened, head dropping on your shoulder with a guttural groan.

"You are a fucking menace."

You giggled.

Peter would've mistaken the sound as sweet, innocent, if it weren't for the absolute devilry that danced in your eyes, a look of pure pride gracing your beautiful features as you glanced at him over your shoulder.

You knew what you were doing to him.

He watched with bated breath as you pulled the rest of the suit off your arms, pushing the fabric down until it rested just below your hips, exposing your top half. Then, you reached under the pillow, Peter catching a glimpse of something white and fluffy.

The air got knocked out of his lungs when you turned around to face him.

They were bunny ears.

You had fucking bunny ears on.

This should be illegal.

It was just criminal, pairing the lacy lingerie that barely covered anything with the suit that you already looked so fucking sexy in. The white practically jumped out against the red and blue, but somehow, it worked. Your bottom half was still covered in spandex, but he could see the hem of your lace panties peeking out, just enough to make him feel lightheaded.

You looked like Peter's sexual fantasies personified…but better.

So much better.

"Fuck, you're killing me," he groaned, body growing hot, and goddamn he'd never been so out of breath in his life. "You're so beautiful."

You sat on your knees in front of him, fixing up the ears before your fingers traveled down your neck, so obviously making a show out of it as your palms moved over your lace-adorned chest, tickling down your sides before you teasingly hooked your digits on the hem of your panties, toying with it.

He followed the path of your hands like a hawk, his own fingers twitching, whether desperate to touch you or to relieve himself, he honestly didn't know anymore. He was already too far gone by this point, just by looking at you.

Peter's eyes snapped back up to meet yours when you called his name.

He was just about to bust when you tilted your head sweetly, tongue wetting your lips as you blinked up at him all doe-eyed.

"Maybe Spider-Bunny wasn't such a bad idea," you hummed. "But we might have to change a few things."

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Y-Yeah?"

God he was already so wrecked.

Instead of answering him, you shuffled to his bedside table, opening the drawer and rummaging around for something. Once you found it, you threw it at him without warning.

Peter caught it before he realized what it was.

Confusion with a hint of curiosity tickled his bones when his eyes landed on his own web shooters.

Looking back at you, his question died down his throat, heart picking up the pace as you settled in the middle of the bed, laying against the mattress with your head propped up on the pillow.

You grinned like the absolute devil that you are.

But he was so sure you'd given him a one-way ticket to heaven when you lifted your hands up, crossing at the wrist before you pressed them against the headboard. With a tone so seductively sweet, you said,

"I'm all yours, Spidey."

Peter had never webbed someone up so fast in his life.

✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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chanstasy · 2 years

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ㅤㅤㅤ THE 12 STAGES OF GETTING CORRUPTED BY LEE MINHO.

PAIRING lee minho x female!reader. (ft. hwang hyunjin). CONTENT smut, pwp, dance partners!au, virgin!reader, fuckboy!minho, corruption!au. LENGTH +20k. WARNINGS unprotected sex, mentions of anxiety, consume of alcohol, possesive beahivour, jealousy, angsty scenes. NOTE my first plotted fic is finally here. i had the chance to experiment with my writing, and it resulted in this beautiful piece. i know you'll love it, please treat it well. now it's all yours !

TAGLIST ( ! ) @lixhours @vikcore @rdflare51 @tanyas97 @hyunlava @jerrykarrot @lomllino @hoes4lino @102598s @svrcoline @softie00 @velspa @goldenrvitaes @ryumayray @iliana26 @josefines-things @miumuam @raspbinniecreme @ladybaudelaire @wannabekriss @llinojin @theangelsangmetosleep @seobinniesshi @linobluved ― thanks to everyone that asked to be tagged ♡

ㅤㅤㅤ© erotichan 2022. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

DISCLAIMER ( ! ) this is not intended to promote unprotected sexual practices or the security of not getting pregnant/not contracting STD. please don't take this as your comprehensive sex education. all facts and events are fictitious. the written scenes do not represent any real person nor do they plan to steal/falsify their identity. any coincidence with names and places is pure artistic creation by and for entertainment.

If there’s one person you never thought you’d have your first time with, it's Lee Minho.

Everything you know about his life has been discovered against your will, and you have to say you know him all too well. You have been training as dancers since you were children and have gone through not only puberty, but also adulthood together. Sounds cute, doesn’t it? Yes, bullshit. Having grown up with the same social circles meant finding out about each of his relationships and adventures that you could never care less about, while he never heard the slightest anecdote coming from you.

Minho knows that today, having the same age and practically the same life as him, you are a total novice and inexperienced chick in absolutely everything. The issue here is that you two are not friends. You were convinced that it would stay that way until the last of your days, however, your relationship took a resounding twist the moment you got into your coach’s van.

STAGE 01: THE ASSEMBLING.

The day you parted towards the annual competition city started as normal as any day next to Minho could start. Both of you got into that van with a common destiny, but with interests as different as the seats you choose. While you sat in the back next to the academy junior, Hwang Hyunjin, he sat in the front ― and he didn’t take his eyes off the rearview mirror.

It’s a bit confusing to explain how it all started for Minho. He has had his eyes on you quite since you became teenagers. It was fair at first, you had stopped being a little girl and your physical appearance caught his attention. It got personal as the years went by and you didn’t show any kind of interest in the change he had made. You weren’t impressed by his good looks, by his personality, by his popularity, anything. The fact that you didn’t pay attention to him like the rest turned him so curious, it aroused a curiosity that morphed into a kind of obsession with having your eyes on him.

That being said, the routine developed with a fluid rhythm the first few days. You traveled, settled in the assigned rooms, shared your meals as a team, practiced, and ended up in the current situation. Searching for relaxation.

It took you three days to find out that there was a jacuzzi in the hotel, unlike Minho who made good use of it since arriving. The dark, humid night made it a bit difficult for him to differentiate the figure he found submerged in the water. Once he got close enough he recognized no one other than you. His muscles were atrophied, they got even more tensed from remembering how tight the air had felt to him throughout those endless traveling hours days ago. There you were, so quiet and calm unlike that trip where the only thing he heard over the coach’s old-fashioned choice of music was your laughter after the cheeky flirting attempts coming from the younger guy.

And there you were too, not knowing that only minutes separated you from making the biggest mistake you had ever made.

"Can we share?", Minho asks, leaning over the edge of the hot tub. His voice appears so sudden that it scares you.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him before answering. Nevertheless, he doesn't wait for your approval to dive to the other side. "You're already diving in," you point out the obvious.

"I know, I just didn't want to lose my manners".

You watch askance, he settles in with a small groan of satisfaction. Your arms surround your figure, holding yourself in place. It's not easy to hide how weird you feel with Minho's presence alone. It's not awkward, it's just a weird feeling that you would have had with any other guy.

Minho analyzes your reaction and draws his own conclusions from that strange expression on your face. With a chuckle, he confronts you as brazenly as he usually does. "I don't work out 4 hours a day for you to be disgusted at seeing me shirtless".

His comment makes you aware of how tight your features are, and you relax them. You must have looked so impolite. "Sorry, this is a bit strange".

"Why? Would it be just as weird if Hyunjin joined us?”

Your features contract again. Minho laughs, he got exactly what he expected.

“Just kidding”, he smiles. “I didn't know that Hyunjin and you were so close. I never see you talking in dance classes”.

The accusation turns you as confused as you can be. Still, you don't mind clearing things up. "We are friends. We usually talk outside class”.

He nods. "I see".

The hot water invites him to cup his hands to take a small amount and wet his dry neck. The drops fall along his collarbones, down his chest, and you realize your eyes are following them when they reach his pectorals.

“How about the rest of your friends? I haven't heard from them in a long time”, Minho interrupts your inspection.

Your eyes instantly flip to his. Your eyelashes give away the movement, and that's why you don't hesitate to respond with a little suddenness to hide it. A bit of irony, rather. “What do you mean you haven't heard from my friends? How odd. I thought you were popular with everyone”.

There's Minho's laugh again. You can vibrate in the same tune if you put your mind to it, and that seems hilarious to him. “Nevermind. I already remembered why I can't have a serious conversation with you".

"Because you don’t try it. You only say stupid things that make me uncomfortable”.

Minho arches one of his eyebrows. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Your question is tricky. Minho stretches his legs out on purpose, moving closer to you without being so obvious. You feel the closeness of his limbs and shrink in place. Your actions are a little bit demonstrative.

"No", you still whisper. "It's just that you and I aren't that close but you act like we were".

"What are you talking about? We've known each other since we were kids".

"That's why. You're still acting just as immature".

The laughter doesn't stop on Minho's part, and you still can't figure out what's so funny. Your body gets smaller and smaller, and he gets more and more comfortable. "Why are you so mean to me?"

"I'm not mean. I just don't like getting involved in these… type of situations… with you”.

He mirrors the confused expression on his own face, but the smile doesn't fade. He’s excited about knowing what your acting is about because it means he'll understand how you see him. With no second thought, he fires off his next accusation of the night. “Why? Are you afraid someone thinks we're close?"

The way his lips pout tickles your insides, in a bad way. Minho can look so arrogant even when he doesn't mean to.

You look around, making it more than clear that his words are true.

“It's nothing personal, Minho. You have a terrible reputation with girls".

“And what? That doesn't mean I'm―”.

“A whore?”

“No―”.

You giggle at your own insinuation. You don't even know where that came from. "I'm sorry", you drop your head down. "Judging someone by their body counts it's too old fashioned".

Minho won't let you pass it by, clearly. “You just said I was a whore”.

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to know what it felt like answering like you do”.

Thoughts mix inside Minho's head. There is something interfering with his initial purpose of getting your attention that leads him to be brusquely honest. The corner of his mouth lifts, but this time he doesn't laugh. No, he doesn't find what he's about to say funny. It is wonderful to him as if it were a discovery.

“I knew you were kind of a weirdo, but, now I get why you haven’t been laid on yet”.

Your eyelids fail to close smoothly, your blinks are literally jerky with how brazen and shameless what you heard was. "Excuse me?"

The realization that Minho knows this information about you makes you feel insecure all of a sudden, and the way your brows rise gives it away.

“What the even fuck does that mean?”, you add.

Minho points his finger at you to explain himself. “It is obvious that you are the ideal type of many boys, but you have a very loose tongue for them to take advantage of you so easily”.

You really don't understand how the conversation got sidetracked here. Your parted lips show that you have no words. You don't know if you feel scared or disappointed by what you hear.

“Is that what you do with girls? Is that why you're so popular?"

Minho snorts. Your accusation bears some truth and he doesn’t care to deny it.

“Do I look like the type of person who engages in small talk? No girl has ever stopped to meet me".

Worry leaves your body like a cloud of smoke. You can't take seriously that little part of his speech that tries to hold some pity. Your eyes narrow, and you bring your hand to your chest. "Oh, poor thing".

Your teasing makes him laugh, but his attention is drawn to the water running down your chest at your hand gesture. Just as you did previously without him noticing, now he inspects how easy it will be to move on inside the talk. You, of course, advance.

"You fuck all the girls you want but none of them know about your traumas," you insinuate with heavy sarcasm, putting on the most tetchy expression of pity. "It must be really hard being you".

It's inevitable, Minho laughs out loud. Genuinely.

“I didn't remember you being so funny,” he confesses.

"I already told you. It's because you don't know as much about me as you make it seem".

Your response feels victorious, righteous enough to make it your last words. You decide to put an end to your relaxation session, and so you get up with the purpose of leaving. You scan the surroundings until you find the towel you brought for yourself. Minho imitates you, and just as you, he realizes that it’s behind him. He reaches out his arm and takes it.

What a gentleman, you wrongly think.

As soon as you hold out your hand thinking he'll give it to you, Minho moves the towel out of your reach. You stretch towards it by inertia, and you end up inevitably closer to him. Minho looks up to meet your gaze that tries to be hard on him but only makes him smile mischievously.

"Do you really think I don't know you that well?", he asks.

The question feels out of place given the clear outcoming of the scene that doesn't seem so clear to him. You don't even say a word, you just insist on taking the towel that doesn't reach your hand since Minho has other plans. He is too curious about the discussed topic to let it go.

“How can it not be hard for you?”, he insists. "Aren't you desperate to have something, anything?"

You know exactly what kind of thing he's referring to. You can't understand why the fuck you're talking about your inexperience with Lee Minho.

“Unlike some people, I do know how to control what I have between my legs”, you assure proudly.

You press your hand on the edge next to him so you don't lose your balance, and reach out trying to snatch the towel away from him. Obviously, you fail to do so. Minho throws the towel away and doesn't even give you time to judge his actions. His now-free hand slides up the back of your thigh, giving you the gentlest push to get you to lean into his body.

It all happens too fast, it takes you more than a second to process that his hands have settled you on his lap. Your eyes stay locked on his as if you're afraid to look at anything that's happening and accept that you're, in fact, straddling him.

The air becomes warm, tense. You've never experienced this kind of modesty, it's an embarrassment that leaves you frozen. The fabric of your swimsuit is a bit thinner than usual, and it makes you realize that you are much closer to Minho than you think. It’s so intimate that it becomes ridiculous. It doesn't make sense for you to be in this position, with this guy.

“What are you doing?”, you ask in a whisper.

Minho brings his arms back, he rests his elbows on the edge of the jacuzzi showing that he will not touch you without you approving the situation. Of course, he then answers your question hoping that it leads to that approval.

"I want you to try to control what you have between your legs now".

You could have laughed, but you don't. His request is so obscene, you know he's referring to his cock — you can feel the contact with your crotch so vividly. Your heartbeat accelerates, it makes you nervous to be aware that your cunt is reacting. The heat that runs through your body also runs between the middle of your legs and the pathetically correct angle at which you are sitting.

Minho doesn't want you to misunderstand his seemingly vulgar intentions, so he adds the second part of his proposal. "Or you can slap me for being a whore like you said, and walk away".

But no, strangely, you don't want to leave. You don't want to slap him. Why the hell don't you want to walk away and slap him? You should run away right now!

"Why would I slap you?", is the only thing that comes out of your mouth.

You swallow hard, your throat feels dry. Your eyes drop to Minho's shoulders, and your trembling hands follow the target to rest on top of them. Your fingers are cold from exposing your hands to the wind after pulling them out of the water, but Minho loves the feeling of them on his skin.

You have so many questions, so many doubts, and so many things that you could use as an explanation as to why you are not resisting. It's definitely not because you want to do anything with him, but having to develop such a statement and expect Minho to believe it would be wasting your breath.

You lower your head a little embarrassed, and look at the small bulge that forms in Minho's shorts below you. You just wanted the damn towel and now you're wondering what happens next. You look up, and once you meet his gaze, you decide to be honest about what you think.

"I don't know what you expect me to do, but I don't like you taking advantage of my inexperience".

Minho instantly denies with his head. "I'm not taking advantage of it. I'm giving you opportunities to make it disappear".

Oh, how thoughtful he is.

"That doesn't mean I want to take them, Minho".

He understands, he really does. But he also knows the general reactions enough to know that if nothing was holding you back, you wouldn't be sitting on him right now.

“Do you want to do it right now? The answer can only be yes, or no”.

"Of course I want to, but this feels weird", you admit, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly. "Doing it like this, without prior context... it's weird".

"It's not weird, it's the easy way", he contradicts with a click of his tongue. "Do you know why so many people explore their love and sex life in a loose and carefree way?"

No, if you knew the answer you wouldn't still be a virgin at this age.

You shake your head from side to side, and freeze as Minho reaches up to your face to give it to you. His lips remain just an inch away from yours, and his eyebrows make a quick wiggle that you can't even register when you hear his voice.

"Because they don't get tangled".

The air compressing your chest is released in the form of a sigh that hits Minho's mouth warmly. His eyes invite you to believe that he is an expert on the subject that you should trust. So, without even thinking about it for a fraction of a second, you press your lips to his to test what he said.

"People just do that?", you question, almost disoriented. Your words are airy. “Without any kind of feeling or explanation?”

Minho brings his hands to your sides, acknowledging the green light. His fingers cushion your hips, subtly nudging them to press against his.

"No, actually there is a feeling”, he clarifies. "It's called lust".

“Lust?”, you repeat the word.

"Do you know what lust is?"

Of course you know, but somehow you're ashamed to admit it, and that's why your body speaks for you. The way your skin gets covered in goosebumps, your breathing becomes even heavier, and the tremor in your hips as you feel the friction in your cunt form the answer to his question.

You swallow again, conditioned by your obvious nerves. "I get an idea of what it is".

Minh smiles. His tongue slides between his lips as he licks them, leaving you plenty of room for you to imagine what he can do with it. The pressure in his hands increases, you move your hips closer to his on purpose.

"Well, let me clear the picture for you", is the last combo of words that gets exchanged between the two.

His moist lips meet yours in a juicily. It doesn't feel wrong as it should, in fact, it awakens within you a curiosity of wanting more. Your mouth follows the movements of his until you manage to find a comfortable path. Your bottom lip gets sucked on briefly, leaving you stunned and elated at the same time. How is it possible that such a small action can make you feel heat between your legs?

Your restlessness encourages Minho to limit your hips, and not only that, but to give them the movement he wants. He drags them back and forth and ignites that sparkling contact between your wet folds. The swimsuit is so suitable for this. The way both bodies achieve friction surprises you, you didn’t know that it was so easy and effective when it comes to getting turned on. You always doubted how someone could get wet so quickly before having sex, and now you understand it; your body reacts to what it has to react to with the right person.

Suddenly, your thoughts get interrupted by his lips’ absence. It works to catch your breath but it shakes you off just as quickly — Minho's mouth reaches your neck with no warning. Your eyes don't open, they press almost as hard as his fingers dig into your waist.

Minho definitely enjoys this more than you, he did want it beforehand.

You feel something strange in the area he’s kissing, something that makes you tilt your head to the opposite side. It's wet, it's ticklish, it's warm. The erotic sound you hear when you feel all that disappear makes you understand that he has released a suction on your skin. You don't know exactly how to react, however, you don't have time to do it. His palms climb up your back and push you gently to draw you to his face again. And your lips meet again.

Damn, your mouths can’t stop meeting between breath and breath.

Not sooner had you registered how hot your blood is pumping through your veins than you registered the entry of Minho's tongue into your mouth. You allow it, and you follow it. It's a new sensation and interestingly not as grotesque as you imagined. It's not as disastrous as it should be. The only disaster is your arousal’s moisture lubricating your insides. You are so aware of his pressing cock under you that you ignore the effect it’s having on your own sex. You're sure Minho isn't physically able to control his erection, but you know he's aware of it as well.

You press down on his shoulders so firmly that you dig your nails into his back, and push yourself away from his mouth. You move those inches away from his face with a sigh that feels as if you've let him suck your soul out. You make eye contact with him, but you quickly avoid it.

"Sorry, I, I don't know what the hell I'm doing".

Your honesty is joined by a short shake of your head. Minho tries to process your reaction, realizing that you're regretting humoring him. He silently surveys you, and he brings his hand up to your chin for you to look back at him.

“You good?”, he asks, hoping you'll pick up where you were.

But you don't. No, you're not as ready for this as you wanted to make it seem.

"Yes, but I don't know what I'm doing”, you repeat.

You sigh a second time, and taking advantage of the hold you still have on his shoulders, you push yourself up. Minho's arms scrabble from your figure as you rise, then fall to his sides when you finally decide to climb out of the hot tub. He just watches you, accepting that you will vanish like fog. His head follows your movements and the way the water trickles down your legs. You grab the towel that conflictingly started it all, and don't even bother to cover more than your nether so you can pull away without feeling like his eyes are piercing through your butt — even though they are.

A frustrated sigh slips past Minho's chapped lips. His elbows stretch out over the edge, making himself comfortable once more. The images of the recent sequence repeat in his head and cause him to let out a small chuckle. He ducks his head at the sound, shaking it from side to side in disbelief at what just happened.

His thumb flies to his bottom lip, and he slides it along it as if he can collect your essence from them. He lets his tongue peek between them, and licks to savor every last trace of you. He lifts his head and looks in the direction you left just to whisper to himself.

"You can come back when you know it, though".

02, 03. THE AWKWARDNESS AND THE CONFRONTATION.

You have felt uncomfortable after a strange situation with someone repeatedly throughout your life, but this is totally different.

Not a single word has been exchanged between you and Minho since both entered the practice room, none other than 'play the song'. It’s a very inopportune situation to have a number together for this dance competition. Luckily for you, Minho is too professional and competitive to ruin everything, but of course, he's also too cunning and quick to gain control. His eyes don’t detach from your smallest movements and gestures that only confirm how tense you are compared to the practices prior to the peculiar encounter that you had.

The song's bridge choreography forces him to come up behind you and take your right hand, and you feel more invaded than ever. You have never felt invaded by a choreography. It's false, it's an interpretation, it shouldn't make you nervous but it does. Minho's hand on your waist makes you nervous. His eyes search yours on purpose, they realize something is holding you back from giving your best as usual.

His mouth is right next to your ear, he whispers into it. "Why are you so tense?"

The deep, accusatory voice makes you duck your head as if you've been tickled. Memories of Minho's lips near that same area whip through your brain. It's so hard to hide.

"Sorry", you apologize for messing up the dance. "I'm just a little uncomfortable right now".

You let go of the hand you're holding, leaving his fingers uselessly hanging in the air. You tuck your hair behind your ears and release the pressed air in your chest to try following the beats again. The song keeps playing.

Minho sees the situation as an offer to find out if what happened was a one-time thing, or if it could lengthen. You, with your head down to see your feet, resume your grip on his hand without even seeing what you're doing. He watches your fingers and the delicate way they rest on his palm, he can only think of how brusquely they pressed into his shoulders while he had you on top of him.

His free hand goes back to your waist despite the choreography no longer demanding it. You notice his movements don’t match the song, and consequently raise your head. There it is his whispering again.

“You're uncomfortable?”

He questions it as if the option of being distressed about being intimate with him is possible. Unfortunately for his ego, it is.

“Yes, Minho. I'm not the best at pretending that I'm not bothered by making out with you and then having to dance like it's nothing".

He smiles. He likes that you talk back and don't just stay silent staring at him like a fool.

“It was just a couple of kisses”, he reminds you of the scenes. His hand presses against your side emphasizing the next words that come out of his filthy mouth. "It's not like I fucked you in front of the entire hotel".

Your eyes close. The images created by his supposition are so obscene, they even make you shy. Just thinking that you could have undressed, you could have allowed him to touch you, you could have let him explore your body and do whatever he wanted with you makes your hair stand on end. He chuckles, the scene reflected in the mirror is funny to see.

"Just pretend it never happened, (name)", he suggests, hinting something more appropriate for the moment. "It didn't mean anything to you, did it?"

You raise your head and look at Minho's face instead of looking at his reflection. You want to confront him and give him that long, boring explanation you were supposed to give before agreeing to kiss him ― but you don't. He arches an eyebrow at you at the intense eye contact, then lowers his gaze to your lips.

“We all had one traumatic and impulsive make out session once”, he assures as if he were totally convinced of it. “You are not the only one who will learn to deal with the memory”.

There’s something inside you that urges you to argue with him. You squeeze his hand in yours as if that's the impulse to give an answer ― words hanging from the tip of your tongue that only get stuck in your throat when the studio door is opened.

“My so obedient dancers”, interrupts that familiar male voice out of nowhere.

Looking over Minho's shoulder, the coach’s figure makes its appearance. He sees him walking in through the reflection, and you back away with small steps so as not to make the situation any weirder than it already is. You try to loosen your hold on his hands, but Minho doesn’t.

“Practicing hard without being asked”, adds the coach as you realize that Minho won't let go of you.

It wouldn't be a big deal considering the man in front of you sees you playing pieces that require physical contact all the time, however, he's not the only person walking through that door. Seconds separate his entrance from Hyunjin's, who sets his eyes directly on your joined hands. You gulp, worried about how the scene is displayed and how you'll perform in front of the two observers.

Minho makes eye contact with the younger man through the mirror, the smirk that spreads across his lips is evil. He licks them to sneak the gesture up, even though it's obvious that he's pleased with what he put on display so effortlessly. He is one step ahead of Hyunjin for the first time, and he knows it.

And you? You know that you got into this problem on your own without thinking about how it would affect you. And the worst part is that it’s barely starting.

04. THE DESIRE.

But not any desire, a desperate man’s desire.

Minho has felt this way before. He knows that feeling so well that he can decipher exactly what is happening to him. And that makes him sick, because it makes him feel weak. How could a few minutes of your taste become poison to him?

He can't stop thinking about you. About your body, your skin.

The dark, gloomy ceiling of the hotel room gives him plenty of room to return to that night. He only sees you, your hands, your thighs, your chest. He can only picture the way the water trickled down your legs when you got up, the drops wetting your back. His head is full of your hips grinding on top of his. He feels so dirty, so perverted. He closes his eyes in search of falling asleep once and for all, and all he sees is the multiple outcomes that the moment would have had if you hadn’t backed up. He sees himself removing that tiny swimsuit. He sees his lips kissing your chest, making you whimper. He sees you begging for more and sinking into his length until you’re full. He sees your cunt stuffed, jumping on his cock, writhing in pleasure for him.

Minho wants you, he has already experienced it with other girls. The problem is that this time it is not reciprocal.

“Shit”, he curses his frustration out with only that word.

He can't put into a sentence how much he really wants to have you after only one little taste. How difficult it feels to get you with how out of his reach you are settles one option between his hands. Ironically, his own hands.

He gives absolutely zero fucks to how unethical it is of him to imagine you naked. He cares little to nothing how wrong it is to think that the hand that slips into his pants is yours. Or worse yet, that it's your warm little hole.

Just imagining it makes his hips buck up instantly, he feels every part of his body getting warm with the light touch of his fingers on the underside of his dick. He palms everything on top of his boxers' fabric, feeling how hard he is. The grip around him becomes proper once he breaks the barrier with his underwear, he pumps his fist without even flinching in guilt. There is no guilt. His hisses are audible, the stimulation is concise and effective. The growls soon escape his mouth, he chases after his high as if he were running a marathon with a very fixed goal. His wrist moves fluidly, it's natural for Minho to find the rhythm of things and follow it without losing it.

He's focused, he's euphoric. “Agh, (name)”, he whimpers at a quite loud volume considering his roommate isn’t there. “Damnit”.

Minho transports to that night. He feels the touch of your hands on his skin, your gaze, the touch of your untouched pussy over his clothed cock. It is literally inhuman how quickly the pleasure builds with each stroke of his hand. His free fingers press against the sheets with the same anger that the precum spreads around his slit. His eyes are closed so tightly that flashes show up before his lids. Heat rises from his feet to his middle. The way his heartbeat speeds leaves him unable to think of anything else but the thrill of thrusting into you over and over again. His mouth waters just imagining how delicious it must be to wriggle his tip through your wet folds, to see you restless and desperate to have him inside you.

Damn, he looks so pathetic right now. His lips part with every moan that rolls past them, his cheeks are flushed, his hair disheveled from throwing his head back.

Minho has done this more times than he'll admit, and yet none have ever felt this way. His cock throbs so strongly, the feeling makes his thighs spasm. He sinks deep into the idea that it's your pure walls that are squeezing him instead of his hand, that when he presses around his base, he simply ejaculates. Disastrously. His hips lose nearly all control, he expands his thighs and gives in to the image of his cum filling you as it overflows all over his hand. He thrusts up once, twice, even a third time until his pelvis stiffens motionlessly from the intensity of the orgasm. His wrist doesn't stop until it hurts.

The prick of overstimulation reaches, and it makes him gasp. He rolls to the side feeling like he just fell from a fifth floor on impact. His breathing is so heavy, it echoes inside his skull along with the sound of his heart and fading whines.

It takes him a solid minute to open his eyes, accepting in advance that he won't run into you when he does. Indeed, the darkness of the room brings him back to reality as he looks around ― his head burying itself in the pillow. He shudders on the spot, unable to formulate another thought other than realizing how screwed up he is.

His hot cum all over the mattress isn’t the biggest problem to solve right now. Minho won't survive long this way. He needs to make you his for his own good.

05, 06. THE CHASE AND THE HAUNT.

Or maybe not said that way. After analyzing it in every way and with every possible outcome, Minho came to the conclusion that he needs to go after you. He is the one that needs to have something, anything.

Your acclaimed person is so distant from what happened last night in his room, and what currently goes through his head. As expected, you locked yourself in the practice room to polish your individual number only for your clothing staff to kidnap you through it to finalize the details of the outfits you would wear.

Minho was called to the room for the same purpose, and that's how he finally finds you. Accidentally, rather.

Of course that the kind and sweet stylist you share would never do anything to make you uncomfortable, in fact, she thought you had already left the wardrobe when she sent Minho to try on the two pieces he would have to choose from for his own outfit. Minho also didn't realize you were there until he moved the door and collided with your figure. Your shirtless figure.

"Oh, sorry", he apologizes, stepping back.

You look up and see him through the wardrobe mirror. You do nothing but laugh, the reaction seems funny to someone who has seen you in a bikini. Pretty up close.

"You saw me in a bathing suit already", you say out loud.

The accusation forces him to stop on his tracks just to prove that he is not acting with the same intentions as before. "I can still be a gentleman, don't you think?"

You laugh again instead of answering. Surely he can, but him saying it so confidently while standing there doesn't sit right. You don't feel exposed despite his eyes being glued to you ― some particular dance outfits provided you with the confidence that the exposure requires, they have helped you lose your shyness and face the staring. Minho confirms that he didn't take his time enjoying you now that he sees you again with just a tiny piece of clothing covering your chest. Those same curves, the defined spine, the smooth skin, those hips. Everything was within his reach and he hardly profited.

His silence turns you curious. You flip your head to look at his face as you unfold the garment that will cover your observed torso, trying to figure out what he is doing.

"Will you stand there until I’m done with my fit?"

Minho makes eye contact with you. His expression remains as serious as it can be.

“I could”, he hints. “There is only one fitting room”.

"You could wait outside, though".

He nods his head. "I could", he uses that tone that seems sarcastic with how obvious his eyes are. His gaze doesn't lie, he clearly couldn't. "Do you want me to wait outside?"

What a stupid question, you would think of any other situation than this. With anyone other than Minho. That fine line between seeking your consent and testing you makes your hair stand on end, and you don't know if it irritates you or you love it.

You look down at the zipper of the garment, deducing by the touch behind you if you’re able to close it. You lean to the side to look through the mirror and make the task easier, deciding after the failure that the answer you'll give Minho will be for your convenience.

“I want you to help me with this”, you shake the end of the garment that you can’t fit into the zipper by yourself. "If you're going to stand there like a fool at least be useful".

Minho is ridiculously attracted to your tough talk. He does like being the one in control, but something about your command arouses interest in him. Perhaps, it’s considering that he can approach you and go in search of his initial purpose. He comes up behind you and zips the piece up, you asked for his help and he gave it to you. Now, he will ask a question and expect you to provide an answer.

“Do you still feel uncomfortable about what happened that night?”, he shoots his bomb.

Clearly, it catches you off guard.

You know exactly what night Minho is talking about, it's the only thing you've been thinking about since it happened. You can no longer sleep, shower or eat without thinking about how close you came to sleeping with a guy for the first time. The answer to his question is no, you don't feel uncomfortable, but that's not what you say.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about it", he goes straight to the point. Unlike you.

Your stomach does something that it only does when you face fear. Anxiety. You won’t confess with words that you’re in the same state as him, you rather see him be the loser this time just for pleasure. You look up through the mirror like that morning in the practice room ― now you're controlling the situation and that gives you confidence.

"Too bad", you coo. "You said that it had to be done with no feeling other than lust".

"I know. But I feel like I'm not even thinking straight, it's like I'm not thinking with my head".

"Oh, so you're thinking with your dick".

Minho snorts, offended by your lack of seriousness. "Don't be so vulgar".

You're not trying to be vulgar, you’re just realistic. Minho moves his foot behind him, giving the door a brief but strong shove to close it. The impact startles you. You’re not entirely able to connect Minho's actions with his second intentions until he looks down at your face. There it is that familiar closeness to your ear that makes you aware of your surroundings.

"When you ran out saying you didn't know what you were doing… was that the only reason why you left?"

Your gaze remains lowered despite feeling Minho's fixed on your face. Remembering how embarrassing it was to run away makes you giggle.

“What other reason would there be? You know I've never done anything, I didn't feel brave enough to start that night".

Minho grins. The answer is a bit tricky, but it's not the denial he feared to hear. It has a firm structure to hold on to. He dares to lay his fingers on the back of your hand, he traces the blunt lines of your veins with his soft fingertips. It climbs slowly, with daintiness. The truth is that you're not thinking about what Minho is suggesting, otherwise, you'd run away again.

Even more so when his voice drops to a whisper. "So that means I'm not the problem, right?"

Minho cares too much. And you don't understand why.

Your fingers move trying to take his by intuition. He doesn't grant you the grip, though, his hand goes around your wrist. Up your arm, over your shoulder and back down before you can ask your question.

“Why is it so important?”, you ask. Criticize even.

“Because I don't want to struggle over something I can get”, he clarifies.

His fingers shove the ends of your hair, exposing your neck on the opposite side that he is. You raise your head, attempting to make an eye contact that fails awkwardly. Minho turns his head to the side he exposed, and sighs directly against your skin. His breath is warm, it makes you shrug. You feel his grip around your wrist and don't fight it back, you allow him to rotate your figure so that your back faces the wall. You look up into his eyes and inevitably take a step back — your body meets the wall to remind you that there is no escape. Neither from this moment, nor from Lee Minho.

Your attention drops to his lips and the way they move as he talks. “Let me try something different with you, angel”.

You shouldn't laugh, but your reaction is quite cheeky. You chuckle at the pet name he chose. Angel, the word repeats itself in your brain until you manage to meet his eyes again.

"You say that to every girl you've been with?", you nag at his offer.

Part of you is asking honestly, and part of you is expecting a sarcastic answer that would be very Minho-esque. How could he betray his faithful personality?

He arches an eyebrow, the gesture doesn't show the slightest intention of denying your accusation. “Probably”, he then says, taking a step closer. "But now it's your turn to hear it".

His hand falls to the side of your head, his palm firmly pressed against the wall to support his weight. Minho analyzes you. He knows that language in girls when it comes to this instance with them. The lack of rejection, the tension in the air. You, in addition to said tension, feel very nervous. You want to laugh out of fear and awareness of the unfolding sequence, but you don't have time to do so. Minho presses a kiss to your lips so gently that you have a hard time registering it. Your eyes don't even close, they stay open and lucid to look at him when he pulls away.

“What are you even doing?”, you whisper. Panicked.

“I told you so”, he mumbles with refined acuity. “I’m being a gentleman”.

The expression on your face reflects exactly what a question mark would reflect. You don't understand anything, and you don't keep quiet about it.

"I don't want you to be a gentleman with me", you express. Maybe, choosing the wrong words.

Minho interprets what he wants, and with a smile at the corner of those lips that just kissed yours, he lifts an eyebrow at you again. The cocky innuendo from him sends you instant regret.

You sigh.

"No―, I don't mean it that way", you clarify, trying to arrange your speech. But, it is exactly that battle with words that Minho has already expressed that he finds useless.

“You need to stop beating around the bush, (name)".

His suggestion doesn’t come alone, no, his free hand joins his act. He pushes under your chin and holds your head to access your neck. His voice drops to a whisper to fit the environment.

"If I'm not the problem, why do you avoid the great opportunities you have to gain experience?"

"Because I'm ashamed!", you admit. "I don't want to look like a fool".

Minho chuckles.

“Like a fool?”, he asks with an incredulous tone. “Do you have any idea how sexy you looked on top of me? Grinding your hips down on mine, enjoying whatever that messy thing that we were doing was”.

Your heart, strangely, remains relaxed. What becomes difficult for you is breathing. Minho's breath hits that spot just below your ear that he's been clinging to in every last interaction you've had. You have to admit that you're desperate to feel his lips on top of it again.

Amusingly, Minho does. His lips press against your skin just once, to show you that he understands what you want without you telling him.

“Do you think I'll make fun of you for being clueless?”, he questions your fears, wrinkling his nose to keep from laughing. "I just want us to feel good, to finish what started that time".

The idea gives you goosebumps. Though to be fair it's probably Minho's voice in your ear. His fingers expand, he drags them up your neck, down your chest, around your waist, and they finally stick to the waistband of your pants. Minho blatantly insists on pulling the fabric. You no longer have doubts about what will happen if you allow him to continue, and that is why you must stop him.

You place your hand on top of his, and lower your gaze to such. "Lee Minho, for God's sake, I'm not having my first time with you in a dressing room".

"You're right", he agrees with no second thought. "I need manners with you".

Well… being slumped on the bed in his hotel room after that was fair enough.

The outfit issue is long forgotten by the time the only clothes left on you are your underwear set. Minho discarded each item of clothing as if he was unwrapping a present, his eyes glistening at every inch of skin exposed like he was removing the lid from a saucer.

His lips are everywhere, his hands can’t stop roaming along your figure. It's the first time you've moved so unconsciously, you don’t even realize your fingers pull on his hair while he's on top of you. He has every detail covered, his knee between your thighs presses into the wet patch of your panties. His teeth nibble on your chest to leave a mark. Everything feels hot, intense, humid. You can’t describe what you feel in your stomach, it may be anxiety.

Minho takes his time, he certainly does, but you have no speed perception. However, you do have space one. Your eyes register every movement, you're afraid to admit you're paying too much attention ― you notice Minho's messy hair, how angry the veins are on his arms, how defined his waist seems circled by your thighs, and how incredibly sexy he looks holding his member in his hands as he tests how easy it may or may not be to bury himself in you.

The sight of your aching pussy, begging for a more intense touch is even better than he had imagined in his fantasies. A deep chuckle takes over his words, his thoughts are released with no shame. “How will all this fit inside you?”, he whispers while stroking himself. "Can you take it all?"

It’ll be difficult, that is a fact. Minho is extremely careful at sliding into your hole, he doesn't even remember the last time he was this slow and gentle with a girl. Hell, he also doesn't remember the last time someone hugged him so tight and warm. Even with the absolute control he has over his dancer's hips, he feels on a tightrope in not being able to stay completely still inside you.

Your complaints don't take long to arrive. The burning and discomfort is real, it's a stretch you never thought you'd experience. You feel so full, intruded to be precise. You dig your nails into Minho's arm, whimpering in desperation. You need him to do something to make the feeling improve. He moves guardedly, his hand lowers to your thigh and tries to make his thrusts more bearable with his soft caresses.

"You're too tense", he points out the obvious. His thumb moves back and forth on your leg to soothe you.

You whine out loud, feeling your muscles contract. Minho growls at this, it's impossible for him not to react to what you give him unawarely. You clench so deliciously around him, he feels like the devil itself is testing his patience. He tucks his head into your neck, which allows you to whisper in his ear — it might be intimate, but the words coming out of your mouth aren't as passionate as he hopes.

“Because it hurts like shit”, you exhale, gasping for air. Your chest is compressed, Minho knows he has to take responsibility for how much you're struggling to breathe.

He smiles, licking his lips to whip out the gesture. He raises his head, gaze meeting yours in such a candid way that you find it hard to believe that this is the same Minho you know. He takes your hand, making sure to maintain eye contact as he brings it to his mouth. He presses the most gentlemanly, sweet kiss to the back and lifts it over your head to keep it there.

Your heart races at his actions, they take you as unprepared as his relaxed voice that tries to convey coolness. “Try to relax, okay? I won't go any harder than this until it gets better”, he assures, knowing full well that standing still won't work — he moves slowly and fluidly so your pure, untouched walls conform to having something stretching them. "And if it doesn't improve, it dies right there".

You have no reason not to believe him, and your body knows it. Your body hears it. You throw your head back and close your eyes, concentrating on rescuing the good in everything that is happening around you right now. Minho smiles again, he can tell you're struggling but you're not making a fuss. Your fingers slip between his, and he automatically laces them together.

"That's it, angel", he cheers you up as he feels the change in your muscles. He squeezes your hand triumphant with the progression. "Do you think you can keep it that way?"

You know he's doing this for his own pleasure, but somehow, his accompaniment makes you feel like you're the center of attention. You nod vaguely, surprising yourself with the moan that rips the response from your tongue. "Fuck, uh, surely I can".

Minho's deep laugh makes you open your eyes, you now realize he’s watching you. There's something about the way your lashes grace your rising lids, something about the way your brows contract over your eyes that morphs your gaze into one of pure bliss. You smile, laughing airily at how fucked up you must look right now. Minho feels something similar to excitement twisting his gut when he sees that his goal is not as far away as he thought.

He leans in so he can hover all the way on top of you, grabbing your thigh with his free hand and gently lifting it up to make it hug his waist. He wants you closer than before, closer than ever. The feeling of your chest pressed against his is addicting. He doesn't let go of your hand, and he definitely won't do it until you dig your nails into the back of his while cumming. Minho groans, you feel so helpless and fragile in his grasp ― he wants to be the only man that lays his hands over you.

His hips adjust to the new angle, counting on your contribution. He goes so deep once you relax, so viciously, he's forced to press his forehead to yours. Your sounds become firmer, they turn into more understandable moans, they leave him no choice but to be honest with you before it's too late.

“Stay audible and clear for me, doll. I will only stop when you tell me to do it with your own words”.

And you exhale a little 'okay', but oh no, you definitely don't want him to stop this time.

07. THE CONFUSION.

The first thing you realized as soon as you opened your eyes was that you weren't in your room. Second, the clock said past 10 and that meant you were already late for breakfast. The speed with which you showered and got ready to go down to eat did not allow you to have a single thought, much less a memory of what happened in the afternoon-night. Sure, completely ignoring the ache between your legs and your muscles.

You entered the dining room and looked around for at least one person from your crew to confirm that they hadn't left for practice and abandoned you, which would be humiliating enough without having to explain why you were absent. You scanned the tables until you found Minho, and not too far away Hyunjin.

Strangely, he is still sitting alone.

You simply grab a snack so you don't waste any more time eating, then blindly take a seat at the table where he is. Hyunjin looks up from his cup and doesn't greet you in the bright, warm way that he's known for. His eyes are dark, dull, as if he had slept terribly and the exhaustion is now transmitted to his soul. Your clumsy attempt to open your snack makes you avoid his gaze.

“Am I too late?”, you ask, looking over Hyunjin's shoulder to see the coach sitting at the other table.

"No", he answers. "But we will be if you take too long with that snack".

You sigh, shaking your head in frustration. Your neck hurts, it's evident from the way you take your hand to your side to massage the muscles. The action is innocent, your only purpose is to relieve the tension, but it attracts Hyunjin's eyes. The mark on your skin is difficult to ignore for him, the hot water in the shower only made it more visible.

“I’m really sorry, I overslept”, you apologize, interrupting his staring ― straight at the hickey you still haven't realized you have.

You also don't notice that Hyunjin doesn't take his eyes off you since you’re too focused on munching the wafer. "Don't worry”, he says calmly despite throwing a sharp statement. “You probably ended up really tired from yesterday".

It is only then that you raise your head. One hemisphere of your brain automatically links his comment to the exhaustive practice the three of you had for the vast majority of the day, while the other is connecting the pieces of what happened last night. It collects the events and puts them together at a speed that your tongue doesn’t respect, since you speak before you even understand what he means.

You chuckle, it's so funny to you. "You know something I don't?", you joke, tossing your hair behind your ear awkwardly.

Hyunjin chews the last piece of his toast, and shakes his head. You are so oblivious.

"No, I just have a good ear", he explains, mimicking the giggle. "You're pretty vocal when you're having a good time".

The food goes down his throat with such a bitter taste that he needs to take that last sip of his coffee to wash it down. He’s so frustrated and angry that he can't even tell you to your face that he heard your particular encounter with Minho in his room, which he tried to get into at night and failed. He wipes the drops of the liquid from his lips with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and stands up abruptly. Your eyes follow his movements with confusion, his last words echo inside your head until you manage to join the dots.

Your eyes meet Minho's at the table across from you, and the change in your expression is clear. Your stomach drops to your feet. Damn, Hyunjin knows. You swallow quickly, dragging your chair to get up and go after him.

“Hyunjin, wait!”

His steps don’t go as far as you expected, he stops regretfully in the corridor that connects the hall with the hotel stairs and conditions you to bump into him. He turns at the sound of your hurried footsteps, knowing that the conversation that follows is not a pleasant one. He raises his hands in front of you, ending the talk before it even begins.

“Forget about it, (name)”.

“No, let me talk”, you insist on approaching him. "It's not what you think!"

The battle inside you to explain that between you and Minho nothing happens seems lost already. You don't feel like there's an explanation to why Hyunjin heard you having sex with him other than a failure to save what you thought existed between you two.

“And what is it then?”, he asks frankly. "I thought you and I were into each other, but I don't even know if you're single or not anymore".

"I am! What you heard has nothing to do with it—"

“I know very well what I heard, (name)”, he interrupts you. "I don't need you to explain in detail what you and Minho were doing, but at least don't make me think I have a chance with you when I don't".

His point is so, so consistent that telling the truth would make you sound like a liar. A stupid, indecisive liar.

"Yes, you do! Just let me explain this long story and you will understand!", you beg.

And Hyunjin really wants to listen to you in hopes of keeping that chance you swear that exists, but his pride won't let him. Nothing can erase that feeling of disappointment that overwhelmed his body when he heard you receiving pleasure, hearing you being satisfied by someone else while he spent the whole day thinking about the most discreet and respectful way to approach you. Dear lord, he felt like an idiot!

His eyes close, he’s mad with himself, he knows he's not in the mood for this to end well. "I'm sorry, but I don't want to hear it", he admits. He sounds as hurt as he is. "At least not now".

Hyunjin tries to turn around, but you grab his arm. "And when then?"

"When I don't feel like an idiot for hearing you fucking someone else".

You watch his figure disappear up to the hotel stairs, feeling much the same disappointment that Hyunjin feels now. You can't believe how careless you were. How you allowed Minho to continue with his plan. Good heavens, what kind of person are you? You don't have any kind of emotional responsibility.

You turn around as frustrated as before, colliding with the guilty person. There, standing like a statue, is Minho silently watching you. You snort, annoyed, walking towards the room completely avoiding him.

Of course, Minho isn’t taking your scene. He intercepts you by grabbing your arm and holding you back before you can keep walking away.

“(Name), what was that?”

"It's none of your business".

“What? You were talking about me”

“Yeah, and that's why I don't want to be seen with you, Minho. Don’t you get it?"

No, he doesn’t.

"No, I don't!", he says out loud.

“Don't you realize that exactly what I said would happen, happened? You ruined my only chance to have something serious with Hyunjin!”

Minho can't process how it's his fault, but what comes out of your mouth still hurts him. He can’t understand at what point he did something so cruel. Or worse yet, what did he do to get there.

His hard expression softens by the simple fact that his feelings have just been attacked. "Did I ruin your chance?"

"Of course you did!", you shoot angrily, coldly. "Hyunjin heard us yesterday when he wanted to enter the room and now he doesn't even want to talk to me!"

“And why would that be my fault?”, he chuckles pretty much with sarcasm. “You agreed to have sex with me, and making you being audible is ruining your chance with that dumbass?”

"He's not a dumbass!", you contradict, pointing your finger at him. “I am the dumbass!”

“You are being totally dramatic and absurd right now. You can't deprive yourself of doing whatever you want just because you're meeting someone, (name)”, he says with a logic that you can't take in right now. "You have a life besides Hyunjin".

You can't suppress the chuckle either. You’re not making the deep analysis it requires to what Minho is saying. Which to top it off, is nothing but the truth.

"It's called self-respect, in case you don't know about it", you dumbly contradict.

"I respect myself a lot, and that's why I won't let you blame me for helping you have a little more freedom in your boring life!"

You could laugh again, but instead, you stare at Minho with a flippant gaze that anticipates your hurtful words. “You see why I was not wrong to judge you? This is exactly how a whore who doesn't care about other people's feelings thinks".

Ouch. You really screwed it up there.

“You're even more conservative than I thought for someone that had just lost their virginity”, he points out immediately. "And totally hypocritical".

You bite your cheek to avoid biting your tongue. For the first time since you woke up, you control the urge to say something stupid. You swallow hard after the accusation and the humiliating situation you're going through, and simply let go of Minho's grip to continue walking. This time, you head towards the stairs. He looks at you, offended, unable to believe that you can't finish the conversation.

"Where are you going? I’m not the bad guy here!"

"I have to talk with Hyunjin", you say over your shoulder, not looking back.

You walk off like a coward, with no regret or consideration for what you just did. You don't realize how much your erroneous words weigh — you genuinely think that someone like Minho can't feel bad about your reproach, which on top of that is childish and hypocritical as he pointed out.

Minho watches you disappear as you did minutes ago with Hyunjin, and he feels something very different from what you felt. He feels offended, hurt by your spontaneous actions. Blaming him is clearly not the solution to your problem, but from now on he doesn't give a damn to what it is about. He's just going to focus on how to get rid of it.

You made a big, big mistake with him. You turned Minho into Hyunjin's rival.

08. THE JEALOUSY.

Of all the unnecessary things that could ruin the focus and dedication that must be put into the competition, a sex scandal was not on the list.

The coach stopped paying so much attention to you and Hyunjin warming up before practice because it seemed more important to continue with the paperwork he had in his hands ― which Minho was supposed to be helping with by sitting next to him on the floor. He's not doing it, obviously. His eyes are fixed on you two and how animated you look after the absurd argument he witnessed yesterday.

The talk you had worked effectively, he can tell.

He follows Hyunjin's every move, especially his hands that land on top of you less blatantly each time. The coach hears him grunt under his breath, realizing there is some kind of discontent from his older student.

"Stop complaining Lee, you'll get wrinkles".

“Why did you bring the junior? We could compete and win just fine without him”, Minho claims, finally vocalizing what runs through his mind.

“A minimum of three individual acts were required for registration”, the coach reports. "Don't make me repeat what you already know".

Minho snorts. Maybe he wouldn't be so bothered by Hyunjin's mere existence if it wasn't for the little detail that he's interfering between you and him. Even if the younger guy hadn't made that idiotic claim to you at breakfast he wouldn't be so irritated, he'd just continue to judge him as usual for trying to get close to you.

“Look at him, he's so messy”, he whispers as he watches Hyunjin pick up the choreography for the song. "You could have picked someone who executes the steps as neatly as (name) does, and not mess up all the body lines!"

The coach takes a look without stopping what he’s doing, just verifying that what Minho says is real. Of course, it is just an exaggeration and the chuckle he drops proves it. "Go warm up too, Lee," he orders to get rid of him once and for all.

Minho clicks his tongue at him and, possibly for the first time in his life, disobeys his superior's order. He gets up from the floor and leaves the room. He doesn't wait for the reproach that actually never comes. The coach knew that today was not going to be a productive day since the moment he sat down next to him.

You can't ignore Minho, your eyes follow his figure through the mirror as he departs radiating a dark aura. You know you're to blame for his attitude, but you also know how important the competition is and where you need to focus your attention. You keep your head on the practice until the extreme physical exhaustion makes your mind go blank, which helps you not to think about Minho. You sweat your soul out, go back to your room and take a shower to wash away all that sorrow and unnecessary stress that you’re currently carrying.

You wish you had known that all that inner therapy would be in vain before you got out of the bathroom and got ready for dinner.

With your hair already dried and wearing your pajamas you decided to choose decent clothes to leave the room, totally overlooking the plans your dance partner had. Minho spent the whole afternoon reflecting on his actions, lying on the bed in the room next door. He heard your every move, when you walked in, when you slammed the bathroom door shut, when the shower was running, and when the sound of the hair dryer became unbearable.

He can’t ignore what's happening to him. He can't let things get screwed up between the two of you before he's even gotten something real from you.

That's why your door opens with no warning, and the scare you experience is vivid. You turn around responsively, looking at Minho and the lack of expression on his face. “How the hell did you get in?”, is the first thing you ask.

Minho raises in his hand the card that you have previously seen the coach use to enter. "The coach got distracted".

You can't understand how he has such nerve to barge in like that and not look the least bit concerned. "What do you want to come into my room for?"

“I want to talk to you”, he informs, fighting the hard deviation in his eyes that have already noted that your pajamas are nothing more than a long shirt that barely covers the ridiculously short shorts.

Your demanding voice keeps him quite attentive, nonetheless. "I told you I didn't want to be seen with you".

Minho doesn't hesitate to turn the lock on the door. The very characteristic sound reaches your ears.

"I know", he assures after your reminder. "That's why I'm locking".

He walks closer to you, and even though you would prefer not to deal with this scene. Whereas a part of you is curious to know what will happen, the other pushes your body away. You only take a small step back that is more than enough to make you collide with the bed behind you. You don't even lose your balance and Minho still grabs your arm like you might fall. You don't reject his touch, and that's already a good sign for him.

"You can't just ignore me like we don't have to compete together in a few days".

"Watch me do it”, you challenge him with your gaze. "It's called professionalism".

“Drop that shit”, he practically commands, applying the most subtle force to pull your arm and stick your hips to his. “Just tell me the truth about what you told me the other day. Are you really mad at me?"

You don’t answer. Your palm presses against his chest at the closeness, but you don't push him away. Minho insists because you give him the place to do it.

"You want me to believe that I committed the worst atrocity in the world when I did not", he expresses honestly. His eyes don't lie, he's not being sarcastic as usual. "I really tried my best to give you a nice experience", he adds.

You simply can't fall for his manipulation that easily.

“You didn't do it for me, Minho. You just wanted to have sex, you said it yourself that the only way to get it so easily is to do it without any feeling involved other than sheer need".

"That doesn't mean that I can make an effort so that my partner has a good time, don't you think?"

You do believe it, but you don't understand why something like that would come from someone like him.

As if he could read your thoughts, Minho insists on convincing you that he is not a heartless being. "I did my best, any idiot would have finished in a minute and not even bothered to keep up with you".

Flashbacks from that night run through your head. The delicacy in each movement, in each brush of his hands with your skin, the guidance and coordination with you, the sweet things that came out of his mouth to keep your trust. Minho did, in fact, put a lot of effort into being your first time — but that proves absolutely nothing.

Your hand loses firmness, it falls down with the purpose of pushing him away. "You're not making any point with that", you whisper, convinced to put an end to the interaction.

But Minho wraps his other hand around your waist. He won't let you walk away now.

“Yes I am”, he doesn’t give up. “Can't you even see what's going on? You are taking it out on me for your lack of responsibility about your feelings for Hyunjin”.

It’s inevitable for your eyes not to pay attention to his lips while he speaks. Minho has the advantage of drawing you to him without trying, and it clearly makes a difference. Your fingers trail to his forearm despite not making an attempt to release their hold on your waist. Involuntarily, you agree with him. Minho scans the scene and realizes that if you were as offended at him as you led him to believe, you would have kicked him out of the room by now.

“It's not my fault that people can see me with you if you are the one allowing me to be close”, he accuses before pointing out the obvious proof. "Look at you, made a whole scene in the dining room and now don't even try to get away".

You recognize it, it is not debatable. You look around and accept that you enjoy Minho's attention, but of course, you can't let the rest of the world know that. Well, you're pretty lucky the door's been locked because you're not showing any signs of moving anytime soon.

Minho puts his hand under your chin and lifts your head with his finger. His eye contact is so intense that it makes you feel like he can see your thoughts, and in between, how anxious you are. His lips pout toward your face and for a second you think he's going to kiss you, which gives him another reason to say what he's going to say.

"You're such a hypocrite”, he whispers above your mouth. "You enjoy what I do to you but you push me away the moment someone else sees you".

His gaze falls to the current position you’re in, and his mind flies as far away as possible. God knows Minho is dying to push you onto that stupid mattress right now and lose all sense of mercy towards you. But he can't, fuck, he can’t see you the same way he saw all his previous hook-ups. He must control himself because he knows that he is the only man that has ever put his hands on you.

You don't understand very well what his silence means, so you muster up the courage to say a word. "I'm sorry", you mutter like any broken person would.

Minho chuckles. "You do?"

You nod. "I was so frustrated by Hyunjin’s reaction, I didn't think about what I was saying", you explain, getting the most cocky smile out of his lips.

He could never turn down your apology and carry on as if nothing had happened. You're so obvious, you can't even prioritize your supposed feelings towards Hyunjin. You're just a poor, delusional girl desperate to have something from Lee Minho. Like everyone else.

It is more than predictable that he will give it to you without you asking.

His feet shuffle forward to pull you back and lay on the bed without pushing you the way he wants to. Your arms mold to the mattress, supporting your weight on your forearms as you analyze what is happening. Your heart is beating fast and the voice in your head is getting louder, but you can't bring yourself to get up and put a brake on him. You don't want him to stop, even if you have no idea what he's going to do.

Minho just stands in front of you, getting that innocent look of yours from below. He is convinced that he has never had such a beautiful view.

"That's the only thing you care about", he says. "What you say, not what you do".

You feel the shame creeping up your body at acknowledging. You're ridiculous, but it's no surprise to you. No one in their right mind would be in your position right now.

Minho pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt and folds them over his elbows, making himself comfortable to continue. "It’s okay, if that's how you want it to be, lie in front of everyone to save your reputation", he giggles. "Just let me show you how good you can feel without having to miss out on that fool".

You're not entirely sure what that means, but his mere speech makes you nervous. You swallow hard and unconsciously close your legs. Minho prevents you from restricting his access by stepping between them. He pushes the left one with his knee and forces you to make room for him to kneel. Your head follows his figure as he drops to the floor, and you confirm that your heart is one beat away from exploding.

Minho finds you so cute, he can't help but squeeze your thigh with his hand to reassure you. "Chill out, angel", he suggests as he feels your tense muscles. "If I put myself in this position it's so you can kick me if you want to".

He gently pushes your other leg and presses a soft kiss to your inner thigh. It makes you shiver, Minho is barely touching you and you’re already feeling overwhelmed. His lips land on your skin two, three times, pressing higher and higher until he's on edge with your pussy. He hasn't clarified what he's going to do yet, but from the way he licks his lips, you've already caught the hint.

“You two looked so cute warming up earlier today… so close to each other”, he whispers. His warm breath hitting your most sensitive spot makes you shudder.

Minho finds it easier for his fingers to creep down to your shorts. He vaguely tugs at your waistband and manages to discard your lower garments, exposing you to him. There is no thought behind his eyes other than touching you. His fingertips are so smooth, you can tell when he rubs his digits along your folds. The minimal contact with your clit makes you whine.

“Does he make you this sensitive too?”, he asks, picking up his talk about Hyunjin. “Do you get this wet around him too?”

His thumb presses on top of your button-shaped organ, giving it the most subtle circles. You bite your lip, realizing that his talk has turned you on more than you can admit. Even you yourself don't know the way your body works, the heat that spreads from your core with Minho's fingers wasn't there minutes ago. Your breath loses its rhythm, you exhale audibly.

“Minho―”, you whimper, struggling with your words.

He looks up and sees your beautiful face contracting. He doesn't ask you what's going on, he already knows it and that's why he knows what to do next. His warm tongue intrudes over your slit, taking a small lick. He tests your sensitivity and confirms that you're a mess when your thighs twitch.

"You're a complete mess", he laughs under his breath. His eyebrows draw together on his forehead, eyes fixed on you with an expression that borders on empathy. “How could I leave you like this? All hot and in need of someone to make you cum so hard”.

His fingers split your folds widely, the cold air makes you gasp. He bites his lip, taking a split second to contemplate how glorious this moment is before immersing himself fully in your taste. He wraps his cushiony lips around your exposed clit and sucks fervently, ripping the most surprising moans out of your mouth. You have no control over your torso leaning forward ― Minho takes care by pressing his free hand to your abdomen to hold you in place. You literally gasp for air, bringing your hand on top of his. He smirks without holding back his supplies, forcing himself to kick the smile off his lips because the stretch doesn't allow him to suck properly. Your voice cracks as it leaves your throat, broken moans that sound as pathetic as how fast your juices leak out of your hole. His tongue collects them all, savoring your essence before detaching his mouth from your sex by licking his lower lip. His mouth and chin are drenched in you.

"You taste as good as I imagined", he confesses out loud, making little to no effort to hide that he is enjoying it.

Minho's words make you shy, they make you feel so embarrassed, but the idea that he fantasized about satisfying you has your head spinning. Minho wants you and you're barely acknowledging it. Your body doesn't wait for you to assimilate it in order to react, nonetheless, your walls squeeze while remembering how it felt having him inside of you. He notices it, of course he does by having his face buried in your pussy. He arches an eyebrow, judging you.

“You can’t stop clenching, can’t you?”, he giggles.

You don't answer, you can't. He abandons your hand over your abdomen and resumes the touch along your folds. He surrounds your hole with not-so-subtle pressure, you whimper louder than you expected the sound to come out. He's right, you're too sensitive. You can't stop clenching.

"So desperate to be filled, damnit”, he exhales. Even Minho sighs at how needy you are.

He briefly discusses the situation and what he wants to do inside his head. It would be so timely to get rid of his tight pants right now and bury himself inside you until you scream and put on a better show than the one Hyunjin heard. But you are not worthy of that after the questioning you did. He's so sorry, oh he really is by giving you a sorrowful expression.

“But you don't deserve my cock after hurting me like that”, he shakes his head to both sides and quickly lowers it. He can't believe those words are coming out of his mouth. "Holly fuck, listen to me, I'm denying dick to a girl".

You want to take him seriously, the pressure on your entrance is driving you crazy and not helping at all. You try to compose yourself and correct your posture but Minho gets up from his position just to hover over you. You lay your back on the mattress, looking up at him nearly terrified, feeling his fingers glide inside you. He moves closer to your face, teasing you with his provocative eyebrows.

“You see how seriously I'm taking things with you?”, he asks, slowly pumping his fingers.

Your slick, warm walls hug his digits in an indescribable way. Not even Minho, the guy with the most unlocked adjectives for sexual practices, knows how to explain how amazing it feels. Your chest feels airtight as the pleasure builds in your core, it's so intense yet so smooth. He curls his fingers in the right way at the right rhythm, everything feels good. The moan that escapes from the back of your throat sounds like music to his ears, which takes him to abuse that spot. The sinful sound reappears, over and over again.

"Fuck, angel, you do have a weak point", he whispers, pressing his free palm to your hip. Innocent of him to believe that would stop them from bucking up in desperation when your orgasm is building so fast.

“Minho, I'm―”, you whine out, unable to control the way your walls spasm around his hand.

“What, doll? Are you feeling that good that you're close to cumming?"

His almost mocking tone makes you squirm in place until you become small. You hear Minho's laugh and close your eyes tightly, not wanting to see his face as your head is buried in the pillow. The waves of pleasure spreading through your sex make you suck in thick air. Your head spins as you unconsciously hold your breath, you can’t control any part of your body as you feel your thighs tremble. Minho fingers you as if he's playing a game where he has the best score, he does it so naturally and knows exactly what the hidden tricks are. Maybe it's the fact that he enjoys sex so much that grants him the quality of being so good ― to see your half-naked body, your swollen lips, your messy hair, your nipples peeking out from under your shirt. Everything, everything about women motivates him to be an expert at making them cum.

And you are not the exception on that ground.

Your juices soak his fingers, he rides out your orgasm until your hips try to escape his hand. He doesn't waste the opportunity and pushes your closing legs open, burying his head between them. He licks a long strike along your slit to get you clean, collecting every drop that proves how ruined you are under his hands. You cry out, feeling so overstimulated. The void his fingers left is soon after replaced by his burning tongue, and you can only take his hair between your fingers in an attempt to make him stop. You look down into his eyes, catching your lost breath.

"You're a damn freak", you manage to mumble.

There's his chuckle again.

“Maybe”, he smiles proudly even though it wasn't a compliment. The strands of his hair fall into his eyes and it makes him look so handsome that it angers you to admit it. So you don't, you just growl.

You press your heel into his shoulder and mercilessly push him away from you. He was expecting something like that so he's not surprised, in fact, he smiles even more widely after falling on his butt. He supports his weight on his palms and watches you stand up, waiting for your comment. Since this doesn’t arrive, he takes the word himself.

"I was expecting a thank you at least".

“Get out of my room”, you order instead.

He fucking giggles. “What an ungrateful bitch”.

Minho gets up from the floor and shakes his hands like a worker after his shift. This time he obeys your order without prior detour. He walks backwards toward the door, keeping eye contact with you.

“Just a little reminder”, he points his finger at you. "I'll push you away too if you come back begging me because he doesn't make you feel as good as I do".

You don't take him seriously this time either, of course you don't. You sigh angrily and point to the door to emphasize that he needs to leave, which he does with the same mischievous smile that lives on his lips.

Minho walks away having had the last word, and poor you, because that is your second big mistake of the journey.

You proved him right.

09. THE OBSESSION.

A mentally unstable, horny girl obsession. That is to say, you.

It's been two whole days since that stupid slip you had with Minho, and every hour that passes turns into torture. You've forced yourself to spend time with Hyunjin in and out of practice to forget about what happened, and yet all you think about is that moment.

Now you're locked in your room like an idiot trying to ignore reality. You can’t avoid the memories of what happened in this very bed. The sheets under you were changed every morning and you can still smell Minho's scent on them. You can see yourself begging him to give you more. You went from being a virgin denied from any interaction with a man to only think about sex overnight. Or rather, think about sleeping with Minho.

The phone in your hand is of no use for distraction, so you toss it to your side. The darkness of the room is a whole canvas to recreate those scenes in your mind. This exact scene is identical to the one Minho had after having you the first time, and you don't even know it.

The roles have been reversed, and now you are the one facing the battle of neediness.

Just as you collapsed on the mattress an hour ago, you got up from it and left the room in search of the person who doesn’t leave your mind. You don't even try to do it casually and sneakily, which is a terrible sign that you've picked up the habits of that very son of a bitch you're looking for.

You just had to walk out the window into the backyard to see him in the hot tub like most nights, and like the one where it all started. You stopped in your tracks contemplating if you should interrupt him or if you should wait for him to come out ― before you could make a decision he looked in your direction and waved his hand inviting you to join him. You thought about it quickly, and shook your head in denial. Instead, you pointed behind for him to come out and follow you.

Minho didn't raise any suspicions, in fact, he assumed you just wanted to talk. How could he not give you a talk? He’s such a gentleman that gives up his rest in the hot water for you. He took the towel and wiped away the excess water, shook out his hair so the drops wouldn't fall, and hung it around his neck before walking through the glass door to follow you. You turned around without saying a word, dragging him into the laundry room.

Closing the door and forcing him to sit down is how you ended up in this situation, ready to show that you've lost all sense of sanity over a man.

Minho isn't afraid of almost anything when it comes to women, not even when you just locked him up, but he has to admit he's a bit disoriented. He sits on the small surface and leans back against the wall, watching you. You lean over the door, and stare at him in silence. Eye contact takes away the courage you mustered up for this confrontation, yet there is something within you that keeps you grounded. Probably, the thrill that goes up your body just thinking about giving back to Minho what he gave to you.

Your eyes roam over his bare skin, how ridiculously short his swimming shorts seem now that he's sitting down, the way his damp hair falls across his forehead, and the undried drops on his collarbones.

Minho blinks after a few dense seconds, suspecting that you don't have something to say as he thought. "You're not going to talk?"

His voice makes you look him in the eye again. "I don’t want to talk".

“And what did you bring me here for?”

Your chest swells as you inhale, sucking in air as an excuse to think about how to formulate your response. How difficult it becomes to be honest when your honesty is vulgar to hear. 'I want to fuck you to show that I can give you what you give me', is what should come out of your mouth.

“I need more”, is what actually rolls off your tongue.

Minho is confused, you can tell.

“You need more?”, he wonders, pulling the towel around his neck to remove it. He studies your expressions in search of an implicit explanation, but he doesn’t find it. He doesn't understand what you mean. “And what is more, exactly?”

“More”, you repeat.

You let go of the door latch, approaching with slow steps. Stealthy ones.

"I need more of whatever the fuck is going on between us, more of you".

He chuckles. That is not something he hears everyday. "You know I can't trust you, do you?"

You nod. You know very well that you have been very changeable, nearly bipolar with him, and that’s why you know how to prove that you are not lying. With your eyes fixed on his, you cautiously drop to your knees. Minho clearly won't heel kick you like you did, but you still have to be careful not to make a false move. His expression drops to a serious one. His Adam's apple bobs, he can't hide that your actions have taken him by surprise. With the lightest touch of your fingers on his knees, your hands progressively climb up his thighs. Minho's skin bristles. His gaze desists from eye contact and instead follows your hands. They are so, so close to his cock that it's reacting to your touch. He's just a man at the end of the day.

"I don't blame you for not believing a word I say", you admit, even compassionately. "But I need more".

Your fingers drift to his crotch, circle the bulge that's formed in his shorts. Minho doesn't speak, he doesn't blink. Your hand presses down on his hardening dick, his mind begins to soar. Your gaze meets his at just the right moment.

"I need to understand why I can't stop thinking about doing this", you say, pulling on the band to lower it as necessary.

The cold air hits his length, the erection takes place instantly. Your fingers surround it, your thumb circles over his head. He hisses, barely wrapping his head around the fact that you want him. Ironic, isn't it?

Aware that his voice will crack if he speaks loudly, he lowers it to a whisper. "You can't stop thinking about giving me head?"

His question makes you smirk, it encourages you to slide your hand toward his base. They are so cold and make him so sensitive. Your tongue takes a little lick, making him press the towel into his hand hardly. Minho groans, the sound is as pleasant as the next words that reach your ears.

"You're nasty girl", he mumbles.

And as if you already had it assimilated, you don't question it. You became, in fact, a pretty nasty person because of him. And it's only in that moment that you get it ― the reason you keep going after Minho is because you're obsessed with feeling filthy, badass. You're obsessed with gaslighting yourself into thinking you're not that boring virgin anymore.

Minho moans audibly, your strokes take a rhythm once you hear him. Despite never having done this before, his sounds give you the confidence to lean in and lock your lips around his length. To be fair, he completely forgot that you were inexperienced from the moment he saw your mouth water and lick your lips in front of his dick. And there you are, making him feel as good as if you did this daily. Your cheeks are so warm, so moist. Minho can't help but thrust his hips into your mouth, accidentally causing you to choke as his tip hits your throat. You laugh, sliding your lips out of him to collect the saliva. Still, a thread hangs from your chin and joins your shy smile that has him sighing.

"I'm sorry―", he apologizes for the offhandedness. He tosses the towel to the floor to free his hand and bring it to your head, stroking your hair to assert his regret. "I’m sorry, keep going!"

You follow immediately, making good use of your spit that lubricates him to the last inch. Your fingers take hold of the base, focusing your suction on his head. The whines you get are instantaneous, and you can tell he's not shy about being vocal. You can't figure out how, but hearing him makes the heat arise between your legs. You bob your head briskly, but with determination. Minho can only think about that night he felt so perverted touching himself thinking about you, and now he realizes that he wasn't so wrong. You're just as much of a freak as him.

You squeeze his base between your fingers, and automatically make him screech. “Agh, no―, uh, don't do that―, I'm gonna cum right now if you do that”, he warns.

But his warning doesn't sound like a threat to you. Your puppy eyes staring right at him are a tricky weapon. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No! No―”, he sounds desperate. He takes your hair in his hands, holding it out of the way. "Holy fuck, just, don't stop".

And it's the way he practically groans the words as he drags them out of his mouth that makes you obey him. You wrap your cheeks around his member and behave like a fucking porn star. Sucking, licking, stroking, spitting, doing all kinds of wonders that have Minho rolling his eyes to the back of his head. He looks ethereal this way. You don't know if it's the poor light coming in from the window at night, or the fact that he is under your absolute control, but you swear your heart is beating faster than any other time. Minho is pretty, and now you can confirm it without anger blasting inside you.

You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, and that's when you know he's totally lost. His moans turn to growls, his voice cracks. Your hand squeezes one of his thighs, but that doesn't stop him from expanding both of them as his hips jerk forward. His orgasm surprises even him, he cums faster than he expected. He shivers in your hold, can't even put the words in order to warn you of his ejaculation. You don't need one, the shots of his hot cum staining your fingers is enough. He's so messy with it even though he can't control it, his substance is everywhere. Your hands, his shorts, your lips, his abdomen. The expression of pure bliss on his face is so majestic that it overshadows the whole disaster he made.

Minho breathes heavily, uncoordinatedly, and you don't know if he's catching his breath to speak or to keep his sanity. To no one's surprise, he fails on the second option.

He reaches out his arm to take yours, and it's not as delicate as you'd expect. He pulls on it to make you stand up, and finally pushes you on top of him. Minho gives no fucks how sensitive he is for having just cum, he willingly makes you straddle his suffocated cock. You hold on to his shoulders, unprepared, but feeling the tingling between your legs intensify. The friction makes your panties get wet, and it makes him get hard again.

You sigh, lowering your head only to reach Minho's lips and capture them in a kiss. He reciprocates rushedly, hungry for your mouth that provides him with his own taste. His hands push your hips down on his, he seeks to turn you on until you can't take it anymore and beg him to fuck you.

But jokes on him, you are one step ahead this time.

You bite his bottom lip, pulling on it to break the kiss. Minho doesn't want to stop kissing you and it shows when a sharp complaint scratches his throat when you move away. You laugh, running your thumb over the bite. Your fingers climb up his face to wrap around his head and tangle in his hair. He’s still trying to catch his breath, and feeling the chill of your touch on the back of his neck makes it difficult for him. He feels dizzy, drunk on you. It will hurt his ego too much to admit that he is not in control, but that is already a problem for the Minho of the future.

“Do something, (name), please”.

You smile, loving how his voice sounds when he begs. “Should I? You look so cute like this, all desperate”.

As expected, even in this pathetic position, Minho doesn't pass it by. "Don't you ever call me cute again".

"I'll think about it while you tell me what you want me to do".

He squeezes your sides, losing his coolness. His fingers pull the band of your shorts so that you take the signal and get rid of them. You get up only for those seconds that it takes to remove the garment and Minho feels that he will die with your absence. He needs you close, he needs to feel you grinding on him. That's why when he grabs your arm again to pull you closer, he simultaneously grabs his cock and aligns it with your entrance as you sit down. You sink down on him so slowly, the stretch makes you gasp. Minho growls as well, he’s dejected. He has never gone beyond ejaculation, but he doesn’t care in the slightest. He wants to abuse his limits with you.

It’s still hard to adjust to the feeling of being full that you are not so familiar with, you can’t help but clench around him with the intrusion. You rest your forehead against his, moving the long strands of his dark hair. Now, you pull these as if the pain is non-existent for the man below you. Minho pushes his hips up at feeling your walls squeezing him, his tip hits so deep inside you that it has you crying out. His palms circle your ass, digging his fingers into your flesh as if he could tear you apart.

You finally start to feel the burning dying, and you gulp thickly before demanding the answer to your question. "You didn't answer me, Minho", you remind him. “What do you want me to do?”

He throws his head back, breathing heavily. He looks down at you, dragging your hips so you can ride him as if your life depends on it.

“Just fuck me stupid, angel”, he breathes out. “Literally―, fuck me until I can’t take it anymore”.

10. THE HYPOCRISY.

It was predictable, only that everyone involved in the matter decided to pretend that it wasn't. Or at least ignore it until the road took another course.

The competition is finally tomorrow. These two weeks have felt eternal, but they have not come to an end. Not even to its climax. The last practice was aimed at each individual act being polished to unfold flawlessly. Minho, like the perfectionist that he is, stayed in the practice room after the coach gave you the go-ahead to go to sleep. It wasn't too late at night yet, so he took advantage of the time unlike you and Hyunjin ― who found out about Minho's decision and took it as his step forward. Clearly, the younger boy hasn't been aware of everything that has been going on, and that's why he invited you to meet him one last time before heading straight to bed. The message coming into your phone changed your plans in the blink of an eye. With slippers and a washed bare face, you knocked on his door.

The fact that you didn't worry about how you looked should already have been your first warning. The second one was that you should have entered his room excited, eager, feeling butterflies in your stomach to be alone with Hyunjin, but it wasn't like that. You went like you had something pending, like you were doing this to pay off a debt to yourself.

It started with a friendly chat, sitting on the bed, the phone being picked up to ask for room service, one or two drinks to diffuse the tension, and finally the closeness between both bodies. Everything was perfect, but not for you. Only for the poor boy who has wanted this moment from day one.

You don’t know how you reached this moment, Hyunjin is now supporting his weight on his forearm while lying on top of you. His free hand cups your waist, drawing your chest to his since you're too far away for his liking. His lips merge with yours, they melt with your warm tongue. You want to enjoy it, you really want to feel like this is the big step with him, but you just don't feel anything.

His lips leave yours to trail to your jaw, press below your ear, down to your neck, but they stop before moving further down. Rather, you stop them. The impulse leads your hand towards Hyunjin's chest, and suddenly presses it. You push him away gently, you’re so embarrassed that you can't even look him in the eye.

Hyunjin not only worries about your reaction, but he’s so confused by your silence after moving him that he resorts to asking about it himself.

"I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?", he hesitates in a whisper. He sounds terrified. Everything was flowing so smoothly, he doesn't know where he screwed it up.

"No, of course not", you reply. You close your eyes to take courage, and raise your head. You meet Hyunjin's gaze and feel so sorry for ruining this that you can't help but hold his face in your hands as if your next words will break him. "You are not the problem".

The disappointment on his face is more than evident. You don't have to explain further for Hyunjin to know what is going on. Exactly what he feared that would happen, happened. He sighs, assuming he made his move too late.

"You're dating Minho, aren't you?"

The inspection he does with his eyes is overwhelming to you. He’s trying to take all the hints that he missed to put the puzzle together. It was right in front of his eyes and he couldn't see it. He still doesn't, so he waits for your answer.

"No, and that's even worse", you whisper now. Your hands clenched into fists, totally frustrated with this situation straight out of a movie. "We're not dating at all".

Hyunjin is quick in reading the room. He may have been innocent in thinking he had a chance, but if there's anything he's not, it’s stupid. He can see what’s in front of him.

With a sad expression, he says out loud what you have not yet accepted yourself. "But you feel something for him".

You don't know what you're supposed to say, but you just don't say a thing. You don't deny it, you don't contradict it, you don't question it. And unfortunately, that is more than enough for Hyunjin to understand that nothing will happen between you two tonight. Not tonight, and probably never.

Of course you feel something for Minho, you are so ridiculously attracted to him. You are a sucker for the way he makes you feel that you can’t enjoy intimacy with other boys.

Hyunjin sighs again, retracting his movements and getting up from his position. He takes your hand to help you sit on the mattress, collapsing next to you to solve the problem like two adults. Talking.

"I mean, it's not like I didn't see it coming", he admits. "But I still wanted to try making a move on you".

"And I apologize for that".

“You do?”

“I… made you believe something could happen between us. It was really hypocritical of me to give you high hopes when I didn't even know what I was doing”.

He just shrugs.

"It's okay. You don't have to take all the blame on yourself, I should have caught the hint when I saw him interested in you".

You rub your arm, a little nervous with the fact that you have to agree with him. Hyunjin shows no signs of anger or rejection, but you still feel bad about the way you came to this end. Both look around, unable to sustain eye contact, wondering what to do next.

“He’s older… and something like a fuckboy that always gets his way”, he mumbles. “And now.. he made this awkward…”

“Yeah…”, you whisper, thinking of a way to change it. When you do, you snap your fingers as if a lightbulb lit up. "We can still talk about tomorrow's competition", you suggest. "Right?"

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. "Of course we can".

With a small laugh, he makes himself comfortable on the mattress, giving you room to do the same. He checks his watch to make sure the service hour isn't over, and he shoots you a look before diving into the whisper. “Do you want to order something else? It’s on me for the bad moment”.

A chuckle leaves your lips.

“Sure”, you smile, extending your hand to the phone. “But let's not get drunk. We don't want to wake up with a hangover".

And honestly, you should have followed your own advice.

11. THE CONSEQUENCES OF JEALOUSY.

The night should have been over as soon as you and Hyunjin cleared things up. You should have gone to sleep in your room, he should have gone to bed and rested well, and Minho should have been back before dawn. But none of the three things happened.

Minho knew from the moment he decided to stay after practice that he would sleep in his coach's room, which allowed you and Hyunjin the freedom to stay up uninterrupted. The extra booze added to the night was a good idea for the first few drinks, but not exactly the smartest. Not even you remembered your lousy resistance to soju until, after God knows how many bottles, you fell asleep on Hyunjin's shoulder. He really hadn't planned on disturbing your sleep, but seeing how much you consumed under his company, he felt guilty. He took on the responsibility of convincing you to take a shower, and he provided you with clean, comfortable clothing so you'd get plenty of sleep and rest for the big day.

As soon as the sunlight hit your face in the morning, you knew the big day had turned into shit.

You woke up without seeing Hyunjin nearby and with an aspirin next to a glass of water on the bedside table. You took it and headed to your room as soon as you realized where you were. If only you had known that this little action would trigger a disaster, you would have locked yourself until the night.

You opened the door and walked no more than five steps. Enough to run into Minho, who was just returning to his room like you. His eyes collide with your figure coming out of that peculiar place, and wearing that particular shirt that he already knows from having seen his roommate wear it. It only takes that split second after you evade him to connect the wires inside his head. You walked out of Hyunjin's room wearing one of his shirts and looking like you were gutted from last night.

What the fuck?

He turns around, grabbing your arm before you walk into your room. The light that hits your face as you spin punctures your head, your eyes hurt to even look Minho in the face.

However, his harsh voice brings your sight back. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

It is difficult for you to associate the question, you don’t understand what’s happening.

“What?”

"Have you spent the night with Hyunjin?"

“Yes”, you answer naively, knowing that you haven't done anything more than sleeping. But of course, Minho is interpreting the opposite. “Why?”, you gasp, totally disoriented.

“Why?”, he chuckles, offended. “Two days ago you were with me and now you are with him as if it had meant nothing?”

“You insisted that I had to learn how to be free with my sexual life”, you remind him of his educational sermon. "I had to understand what it was I wanted with him".

For you it’s obvious, it’s consistent. For Minho, it’s a nightmare.

"I did, but it wasn't for you to go and sleep with Hyunjin the next day!"

You can hear the anger in his voice. You can hear the frustration. Minho believed that he had already won this game, but he didn't count on the fact that you didn't set the guidelines in the first place. You open your eyes wide, battling the light and the excruciating migraine that isn't helped by Minho's booming voice hurting your sensitive eardrums. His expression doesn't look good. You tug on your arm to loosen his grip, and subtly move away from him. Your shoulders shrug, downplaying what is insignificant to you.

“Why do you care so much?”, you ask, considering that your meeting with Hyunjin was silly and harmless. "Are you jealous now?"

The word twists Minho's insides. He can't be jealous of something that doesn't belong to him, but that's precisely what makes him angry. You are not his.

"No, I'm not jealous", he lies blatantly. "I'm trying to understand what your intentions are but you won't let me because you act like a slut!"

Yes, he could have chosen a different word. And yes, he didn't.

“A slut?”, you repeat, surprised rather than offended. "I'm doing exactly what you taught me to do".

"This is not what I was referring to, (name)".

“And what was it then?”, you criticize, taking a step closer to him. "Didn't you teach me to live your free and uncompromising lifestyle to enjoy it without depending on a fool?"

“Yes, but I'm not the fool here! It's supposed to be Hyunjin!”

You blink repeatedly, silently. You can’t understand how that reasoning is coming from someone as astute as him. He sounds dumb.

"I got it, now that I am doing with you what you do with all the women on the planet, you disagree".

"It’s not like that".

"No, seriously. I get it,” you raise your hand, stopping him from getting close to you. "You're a fucking possessive asshole like everyone said you are".

And even though your tone is sarcastic, it hurts Minho like the first time you called him out. He tries to order the events and link everything that has brought you to this moment, and yet he doesn't understand how that night in the laundry room turned into this. He never thought that not understanding what he felt for you would translate into those words that escaped from your mouth without the slightest remorse.

Fucking-possessive-asshole. You just missed adding womanizer.

Minho gulps, his expression becomes serious. Yours, reflects utter disappointment. You can't believe he actually attacked you like that, giving you no space to explain what happened. And even worse, you can't believe that he doesn't even try to remedy it and gives up instantly.

His body language changes in an abrupt manner. His shoulders drop, his hands can't decide what gesture to make to speak. He just avoids your gaze.

"I’m sorry, you're right”, he sighs, feeling completely humiliated. "You're absolutely right".

He throws down his hand in the air like a flag marking the end of a battle, and turns around without further ado. He walks into his room and slams the door shut with a loud thud that startles you. You stand motionless, staring at the door with the phantom trail of Minho's figure that just disappeared. You are so confused, so lost. You don't understand how Minho jumped to the conclusion that you slept with Hyunjin nor why you didn't deny it to prevent this. But you feel so hurt by his reaction, especially since it was the product of a mistaken belief. You wonder what would have happened if you had actually taken the freedom of sleeping with Hyunjin to fulfill your whim.

The stress that such a discussion adds to you is the last thing you need. Your stomach pays the consequences, your gut twists and it doesn't help at all with the discomfort that the hangover gifted you when you woke up. As soon as you take a step in the direction of your room, you already feel that your entire nervous system is failing. The competition is a few hours away, and just thinking about it adds anxiety to the list of unpleasant emotions.

In these conditions you will make a fool of yourself.

The option of sleeping seduces you enough to rest until you have to get ready, which doesn’t mean it will be effective enough. The nap works to avoid reality for a couple of hours and get a little more sleep, but when you wake up from it, the effects of the hangover worsen.

It all happens in fast motion from the second you get in the van to travel to the competition venue. Your head doesn’t stop hurting and spinning. Minho's voice and Hyunjin's image follow you along with the staff as you pass from one corridor to another. You feel nausea clouding your vision from the first to the last moment. The lights hurt your sensitive eyes. Your body aches just from standing on the stage. Your hands sweat before the music track even starts playing, your head is pounding so hard you can swear your brain is about to explode. You don't remember how to start, if it wasn't for muscle memory your body wouldn't have started executing the choreography on its own. Everything is automatic, you have no awareness of what is really happening or what is at stake. At least not until your gaze lands on the side of the stage, and your eyes meet those of your peers. Not just Hyunjin, who you haven't seen since yesterday, but Minho. It’s at that moment that you remember that you have a number with him.

You manage to reach your final pose, hearing the seconds of silence that postpone the end of the song and anticipate the applause and response from the audience. It takes you a few seconds to react, and when you do it is abrupt and hasty. You realize you have to change your wardrobe and instantly head offstage without looking at or greeting anyone. Minho and Hyunjin watch you sneak past the staff, then look at each other. Exchanging that look, both can decipher that something is not right. Just one look, exactly what it took you to mess everything up.

Hyunjin followed with his number, and even though Minho was free to talk to you before you had to perform together, he didn't. Maybe if he had, he could have prevented the disaster. Perhaps if he apologized, he could have saved the presentation. If only he hadn't waited until you were both positioned onstage to say something, it might have relieved some of your stress.

“(Name)”, you hear the whisper in your ear before the song starts. "We need to talk after this".

You don't even have time to answer once the track coming out of the speakers forces you to move. Minho's request bounces off the walls of your head, echoing non-stop. It resonates so loud that it overshadows the music. It adds to the pain and doesn't allow you to focus the way you need to. You can't think clearly. Your steps begin to fail. Your sense of coordination is nil. Your eyes meet Minho's as you make that spin that looked defenseless two weeks ago, and now is all it takes for your body to give up. Not only do you trip and fall before Minho can grab you, but the overwhelming feeling of making a fool of yourself in front of so many people erupts the urge to vomit. You get up as fast as you can and with the greatest embarrassment spreading through your veins, you flee the stage.

Everything you have been working and striving for months, gets thrown away in just one mistake. The only reason you're in this city, this venue, has completely lost its meaning. You don't even think about your dance partner, your coach, your academy. The humiliation turns you selfish.

In just minutes, everything becomes insignificant. It went from being the most important night of your year to being the most pathetic one. Your forehead is now pressed on the toilet, you still haven't made the effort to wash your mouth after vomiting your stress out. You’ve already lost track of how long you've been there, you’re just thinking about how you will go back to your city and never talk to anyone else from the academy again. Despite being dehydrated you still have water in your body to cry and let all the frustration out.

This is definitely not right, and it gets even worse when you hear footsteps approaching. You try to contain your sounds so as not to draw attention, but you don't succeed. The person on the other end literally sits on the floor to hear you.

“(Name)?”, asks that all-too-familiar voice.

As if to top it off, Minho is now behind the door. You press your palm to your mouth to become silent but it's just to no avail. Minho has already talked to the security people and he knows that you locked yourself in that bathroom. He sighs, hating to interrupt you in such vulnerability, he feels compelled to do so.

“(Name), I know you're there. I can hear you sobbing".

His voice is a whisper and you can still hear it because of how quiet the environment has become.

"Go away, Minho", you demand in a brittle voice. "I’m so embarrassed".

“I don’t care, I told you we should talk. Let's talk".

"I don't want to talk, I want to go home and get buried 8 feet under the ground!"

Minho gets into a comfortable position, leaning his back against the door to settle into place. He won't leave until he gets to talk to you.

"Forget the competition, that's not what I want to talk about".

“Nothing is more important than the competition right now!”, you express angrily, banging your hand on the toilet. "This wouldn't even have happened if I got into college like my mom demanded and didn't waste my time on this dancing stupidity!"

You can't see him ducking his head in sorrow, but you can hear him sigh. He sounds stressed, and is uncooperative with the situation.

"Don't say that, (name)".

“How do you want me not to say it? I wasn't able to take it seriously because of an immature affair!"

He doesn't talk this time, he can sense that you have things to add by the way you take a deep breath to continue talking. Of course he doesn't expect to hear such cruel things.

"I don't even want to continue dancing, you took away my desire to do what I enjoy the most by putting your dick in this!"

“I'm sorry,” he says in a low, embarrassed voice. His head flops against the door, he feels so sorry that it got to this point that it clearly wasn't part of his plan. "I really do".

"You don't, you just feel guilty that I ended up in this deplorable state".

Minho clicks his tongue. He doesn't like words put in his mouth. "Of course I feel guilty, it wasn’t my intention to go this far!"

"And what the hell was your intention then?"

“You hurt my feelings, (name)”, he avows. His words tangle on his tongue, the honesty feels like a trammel. "I acted cold and wanted to find a way to get back to you to get your attention but it all went to shit".

You look back in the direction of the door. You feel so offended.

“Did I hurt you? You played with my feelings and my career, and the one who gets hurt is you?”

"Well I admit I was just playing at first, I didn't think you would care too much and it would escalate to this!"

“Why wouldn't I care about it?”, you finally snap.

You get up from your position but do nothing more than sit by the door so that your voice is clearer to expose your naive and wounded heart. Minho hears your movements and fears of whatever he will hear next.

“Please”, in the most pathetic voice, you beg. “Just stop for a moment to think that for you it was one more time, but for me it was my first time. I never had the opportunities or the people to feel comfortable and I had finally gotten to be free with you”.

Minho feels the guilt digging into his chest and making a hole. Now that you put it that way, it sounds terrible. Unfortunately for him, you're not done yet.

“You did exactly what I told you I didn't like you to do. You took advantage of my inexperience with all this stupid game of freedom and then accused me of behaving like a slut!”

"That's not true, don't twist everything up".

“You are the one who twists everything and ruins it all!”

Your sobs come back, Minho can only close his eyes tight. That painful feeling in his stomach when he hears you cry is so foreign to him. He didn't want this to turn into an argument, but there just doesn't seem to be a point. At least, not until you drop the big confession.

You hide your face in your hands, blurting out what crosses your mind in such a vulnerable state. “Look what you’ve done for thinking I slept with Hyunjin”, you babble.

Minho suddenly frowns. He heard perfectly what you said, and that's why the confusion whips him. He turns his head as you have been doing, trying to elicit an explanation from you with telepathy. Now, cautiously pressing his hands to the ground as if your voice might pierce the door, he asks the crucial question.

"What are you talking about?"

And you answer, it’s a minor detail for you. "I didn't sleep with Hyunjin yesterday, Minho".

"What?!"

"You didn't even give me a chance to explain it!"

Minho feels despair. His eyes go everywhere, the hole in his chest gets deeper. A mix of uncertainty and anxiety washes over him at not knowing how badly he screwed it up.

“Explain it to me now!”, he demands.

You drag your hands out of your face so that the words are heard clearly and not distorted.

"We just kissed and I realized that he wasn't the one I wanted to be with".

"You can't be serious right now", he growls, banging his head against the door.

“I am, dammit! We cleared things during the night and decided to have a drink to get through the awkward moment. That was it''.

"I don't get it", he exhales. “What about his shirt? Why did you sleep in our room if you quickly put an end to everything?”

“I got drunk thinking about you and took a shower in your room so I could go to sleep sober, Hyunjin only lent me his clothes and let me sleep there so I could be safe!”

The explanation shakes him no more strongly than the realization. And no more than the last words he hears coming from the other side of the door before you break down in tears again.

"But of course you reacted like an idiot by interpreting the first thing you saw and ruined everything between us!"

Your sobs push him into silence. His thoughts inside his head turn so loud. He realizes how far he is from having done the right thing. It was all his fault from the beginning to the very end.

Minho has really screwed everything up.

12. THE REALIZATION.

Going back on your own and never letting people around you know about you again sounded like a good idea yesterday. Today, when you have no other transportation than the van you're sitting in, it doesn't sound as good anymore. The weather seemed to adapt to your sentimental situation, the rain now soaks the windows gloomily from the outside. You watch through it as you wait for the driver to arrive. There's literally two hours left for him to do so, but there's no other place in the entire city where you can hide. You want to be totally isolated and away from everything.

You need to think about what you will do when you get home. You need to relax, reflect, and act maturely after such immaturity.

Your earphones help you filter out negative thoughts with some music. Despite not paying full attention to your surroundings because of this, you still notice with no difficulty when someone opens the door and climbs in next to you. You remove one of the ear pieces, knowing exactly who it is without even seeing his face. There is no one else that needs to have a talk with you. Now that he raises his head and looks at you through his dripping hoodie, you feel the same discomfort as yesterday. You blink silently, waiting for him to say something. He simply doesn’t.

"I want to be alone".

"I can't leave you alone after what happened”, contradicts Minho. His words mix with the lyrics of the song in your left ear. "We're not done talking".

"I already told you everything I had to tell you".

"But I didn’t", he insists. “Please, (name). We can't go home and pretend nothing happened".

You take the remaining earphone and rip it off its cord, the music finally disappearing. The expression on Minho's face is serious.

“Isn't that what you asked me to do the first time we kissed? Don't get tangled up, don't worry about anything other than to have fun for a while”.

"This was more than just a little while, don't you think?"

You stay silent again. You can't read the emotions on his face even though your eyes scan each of his features, unlike Minho who only focuses on your glassy eyes. He reaches out his hand boldly towards your face, feeling the urge to wipe away the treacherous tear that fell down your cheek. He doesn't want to see you cry.

“Why do you even insist?”, you mumble. "I ruined the competition for both of us and made things awkward for everyone".

“Because we'll have a hundred more of those competitions to screw up. But I only have one chance to apologize to you".

You sigh at how dramatic it all feels. You brush away Minho's hand, lowering your head in embarrassment. Minho knows that it’s time to confront what happened before the stupid competition that is now a thing of the past.

“You were absolutely right about what you said”, he assures.

You bit on your bottom lip to prevent it from pursuing into a pout. You don’t even care about being right, not now.

“About you being a fucking possessive asshole?”

Minho chuckles with the way you say it. “Yeah”, he agrees. "But also that I didn’t stop to think that all this was not a game for you".

The intrigue about what you hear makes you raise your head to observe him. Your hair gets in the way, and of course he's the one brushing it out with his fingers. He tucks it behind your ear, staring at you.

"I should have been more responsible because it was important to you", he states.

"Forget it already. It becomes more humiliating if you make a big deal out of it”.

“I can't forget about it. And less if everything went to hell because I accused you of something that was not true”.

Minho places the hand you pushed away on your leg. He wants to test the waters and make sure there's still something inside of you that wants him close. Something that will allow him to pick up where you’ve left and move forward. You've already stopped him before, this doesn't seem to be the case. And that's enough for him.

"Please let me make it up to you".

Despite your wordlessly consenting, you callously deny.

“You can't”.

“Why not?”, he questions remaining calm. He’s obviously disappointed.

"Because there is nothing you can say that can make up for the way you hurt me".

Minho imitates the pout in a much more exaggerated way so that you feel sorry for him. The embarrassed expression on your face seems to reflect that you find it funny instead.

He nods his head to take your words in, and as expected, he contradicts them. "Okay, then let me fix it with actions".

You knew at that moment what was going to happen, and yet it didn't cross your mind that it was a terrible idea. Minho brings his free hand up to your chin, lifting your head to level it with his. Your eyes penetrate through his before falling to his lips that are quite obvious with his intentions. He gives you a second for you to move away, to push him, to curse him, but you don't. And he kisses you.

You know how much of a fool you are. You're such an idiot. You're the biggest, dumbest chick. But certainly, you're still the innocent girl that likes him.

Minho deepens the kiss, sliding his hand up to your jaw so he can get closer and alternate the movement of his lips. It feels relieving after such a stressful experience, but you’re holding onto that stress that you can't reciprocate properly and Minho notices it. He pulls away and opens his eyes, keeping them in your mouth.

"You're not kissing me back", he exposes. His hand takes yours, bringing it to his shoulder in hopes of encouraging you. "Touch me, feel how my body gets when I kiss you again".

You feel weak. It’s not your integrity that makes you hesitate to continue. Neither is your dignity, if it wasn’t clear enough. You lower your head, and slip out of his grasp. "This is not okay".

"Why not? Some things are solved this way, (name)”.

You close your eyes, and sigh in anticipation of your concern. You know you'll sound silly. "No, I mean, someone could walk by and see us.

.Minho doesn't want to laugh in this situation, but he chuckles. You sound so cute worrying about something so small. "The windows are tinted", he informs the small but obvious detail.

Before you can even complain, Minho grabs your phone and earphones from your lap. He tosses them aside, casually, and leans into your side so he can wrap his arm around your waist. You naturally slide into the seat, looking up at him while he makes you lean under his figure. You have no doubt that the reason everything comes out smoothly is because Minho is the one in control now.

"No one will see us even though I'm dying for them to do it", he whispers to pick up the conversation.

His lips sneak up to your neck so stealthily that you only notice when you feel them on your skin. Your eyes close, the wet feeling of his mouth on your most sensitive spot bewitches you. Minho can tell you’re relaxing, so he takes advantage of that to get close to your ear.

"No one will see us together even though you don't want anyone to associate you with me ever".

Your answer gets stuck on your tongue as you feel the brush of his teeth on your earlobe, coldly calculated after spitting out the accusation. He knows how to manipulate words so well that he inevitably has you doing what he wants. Denying them.

“I'm not as sure about that as I used to be”, you stammer, melting in his grasp.

Minho smirks, cockily. He lifts his head and stares at you, admiring how pretty you look under him. His teeth land on his lower lip to drag it, an involuntary gesture after seeing you being the best girl for him. You breathe heavily with his gaze on you, you feel nervous like every single time.

“I’ll believe you only because you look so honest and innocent right now”, he mumbles as if he had read your thoughts. His free hand caresses your side, enjoying the contact he thought he lost. "You look so pure just like when I first kissed you".

The word tingles inside you. Minho wastes no time and presses his lips to your neck again, strays down your throat and over your chest. You know he loves to take everything as if it belonged to him, and that's what he does by squeezing your hips between his wide hands. He inhales, feeling like it's been too many hours without you to stay sane. He feels so foolish to have believed you could give what is his to someone else.He licks his lips and slides his warm fingers under your shirt to touch your bare skin.

"I really corrupted you, didn't I?", he smirks, so proud of his acts. “I was your first time, your second one, your third one…”

His hands switch paths and move down to your legs, taking hold of your thighs only to press them against his waist. Your legs tangle as if they were meant to be glued together. Feeling the friction with your cunt makes him hiss. Every little movement reminds Minho of how much he has achieved.

“Shit, angel, I ruined you”.

Yes, the only answer to that is yes. But the one that comes out of your mouth is a whimper as you feel his knee rub between your legs. Minho is relieved to hear that sweet sound again. He feels your hesitant hand not knowing where to grab him and decides to take it. He carries it over your head and holds you in place with the slightest of force. He pecks your lips gently, keeping your attention on him. You feel that the air inside the vehicle has become so hot. Your heart beats fast, it speeds up when Minho intertwines his fingers with yours. He knows that look in your eyes so well.

"Now I understand why you let me go so far", he says out loud. “Because you ended up entangled. You like me, you love when I give you all my attention”.

You would like to defend yourself, but you can't. You feel short of breath, you feel that whatever comes out of your mouth will be incoherent in trying to deny the truth. Minho holds your jaw in his hand, he forces you to stare at him as he exposes you.

“You heard so many things about me with other girls and were delighted to know that you became my favorite one. Didn’t you?"

Your eyebrows pucker. You're so ashamed to admit it, yet you give him the faintest nod. He denies with his head, hissing in regret. His gaze travels down your body, checking out everything he has available to devour. The hand on your jaw follows the path his eyes took, his index finger traces the line of your lower stomach and hooks into the band of your jeans.

“I acted like a jerk even though I had you all to myself… You really let me be the first to teach you how to enjoy all this, and I was an ingrate".

His fingers intrude between your jeans and underwear, pressing into your covered folds. The warm, wet feeling doesn't take Minho by surprise, he knows you’re easy to arouse. It's almost like he's the only person in your entire life who's done it.

“This is what my voice alone does to you”, he laughs after recognizing it, burying his face in your neck. His fingers climb higher so he can focus on your clit, slowly circling it. “You are so ready to take me at any moment”.

His words make you squirm under him. He's right, your body is ready for him. Your hands cling to his bicep, channeling your desperation as you feel his fingers press into your hole.

“I need you”, you whine.

“I know you do, doll”, he whispers to keep his voice minimal. He brushes his nose against your neck, breathing warmly under your ear. "I'll give you anything you ask for if you promise me you'll be mine back home".

Oh, you are a lost case.

“Lee Minho, you fucking bastard”, you curse in the hottest way the named bastard has ever heard. "You would have to be an idiot not to realize that I am already all yours".

His deep, childish laugh sends chills all over your spine. Minho nods, licking his lips victoriously. He nimbly moves your underwear aside, and slides his digits inside you. Your nails dig into his arm, it feels so out of place yet so good. He pumps them so easily thanks to your wetness, you make it pleasurable even for him.

"Do I deserve you to make it so easy for me after how bad I was with you?"

"I don't care if you deserve it or not", you blurt out.

"Of course you don't", he wrinkles his nose. “You just want me to make you feel good because I got you used to that”.

Minho curls his fingers to emphasize his words, and your walls flutter around them. He bites his lips, abusing that spot he already knows it’s your weakness. The increase in your moans is predictable for him, he feels the success of hearing them just when he was expecting them.

"I turned you into the most spoiled girl, didn't I?"

You nod decisively this time. Your head burrows back into the seat with each pump of his fingers that ripples waves of pleasure into your core. He smiles, contemplating how pretty you look.

"I'm going to teach you how to be the best of all then".

The emptiness strikes you after his words, Minho withdraws his fingers and relinquishes the hold on your hand. Instead, he pulls on it to help you get up. He literally spins you on the spot with a flick of his arm. The other one surrounds your figure and makes your back stick to his chest. It's romantic, even, because it feels like a dance step.

“Be good for me”, he orders as he sneaks his hands towards your front. “Let me take this off”.

You let his fingers undo the button on your jeans and lower them just to press his hand on your back. He adapts you to the foreign position so naturally, your back arches for the first time to bend in front of someone. It makes you feel the blood rise to your face, even more so when Minho pulls your pants to expose your pussy to him. His hands caress the soft skin of your thighs, they hold you thinking of the infinity of times that he’ll be able to enjoy this view. He slips out of his pants just enough to free his cock, stroking it slowly. He gets so hard just seeing your soaking entrance waiting for him ― thankfully, he only has to shift his weight on his knee to align his head with it. Both hands grip your sides and pull your hips toward his, his tip slips between your folds with no help from them. You're as close as required.

“Do you feel what you do to me, angel?”, he asks. "My body is also always ready for you".

And just as he states the evidence, Minho pushes his head with just two of his fingers, thrusting forward to bury his whole length into you. He fills you softly, groaning just by how tight you are. You hug every single inch the right way, he needs a few seconds to adapt to how good you feel to finally roll his hips. His position makes the mere thrusting reach so deep, you don’t have any other option than press your face into the seat.

It is so wrong, and somehow he manages to make you feel like everything is falling back into place. His hips move so sensually and gently in contrast to the grip of his fingers around your flesh. He spreads your cheeks with his free hand just for the curiosity of seeing how your pussy swallows him over and over again, it makes him sigh. The way he has your spine arched and your knees trembling unsteadily drives him crazy.

He fills you with long thrusts, pushing his hips up just as he bottoms to press into that spot inside you that has you clenching every time. Minho just doesn't fail, he doesn't miss a beat, he doesn't get tired.

“This is so wrong”, you choke out. Your eyes are so tightly closed that you feel your head hurt. "Fuck, this is a madness―"

You can't even say your words properly because each one gets dragged with a different moan. Minho growls, he feels your walls suffocating him. They squeeze him so fiercely, and once he grabs your arm and pulls you up against his chest, it's even harder to bear. Your breath hitches with the new position, it compels you to sink into his cock on your own. You screech, dumbly, he’s so deep that you feel his tip rearranging your insides. You look down at your abdomen and swear you can see the small bulge over the obscene picture.

Minho still has something to say.

“Is it, baby? Is it really that bad that all we do is have sex?”, he thrusts up slowly, making you aware of how massive the stretching really is.

His free hand fumbles up with your chest and kneads your closest breast under his fingers. He wants to touch everything, feel everything after believing that he would lose it forever.

"There's nothing wrong with just desiring each other", he adds.

And it’s at that moment that you understand what really was, and what is happening between you and Minho. You throw your head back to rest it on his shoulder, making eye contact. You feel like your soul is getting sucked through his gaze.

"No", you shake your head in denial. "It's wrong to desire each other so much that we can't even control it".

Minho’s hips jerk with your indirect confession. The sudden push sends your hand flying to the window. The mark of your fingers on the misted glass is just one more proof that your words are true. The little jump you unconsciously gave felt so good that you instinctively repeat it, raising your hips and sinking down on his cock again. He remains still, completely forgetting what you've said.

“Shit, I can't even think straight when that tight pussy of yours makes me feel this good”, he curses.

His hand on your chest moves up to your neck, circling your throat. The other one goes down towards your hips, joining your movements to make them even more effective. And cleaner. He's moaning lowly, raspily, straight to your ear and it makes your thighs tremble. Minho is your vice, your addiction, your biggest and most difficult sin to forgive under God’s eyes.

"Do you really want to forget about this? Do you want to go home and pretend we're not meant for each other, huh?"

You can only shake your head to answer. Your fingers quiver at the window, they distort the shape of your hand into an incomprehensible one. You feel the sweat on your forehead and your breathing hitching, you know you’re getting closer to your orgasm second by second. Minho controls your hip movements so well that he elicits small whimpers between each one. His hand around your neck subtly moves up to your jaw, turning your head so you're staring directly into his eyes.

"I asked you to be good, doll", he reminds you, his voice sounding as breathless as you are. "Answer to me".

Your hand closes around his wrist, your walls contract harder. “Uh, agh, no! I don’t want to!”

Minho bites his lip, fighting the urge to kiss yours. "Then tell me you love me".

Shame rises through your body at the same speed as heat. If your cheeks weren't already burning you could dare to say that what turned them red was Minho's demand. No matter how much he has shaped your behavior, there is still a fine difference between the two. He can say anything regardless of the weight his words have, and manipulate it according to your reaction.

Your hot breath fans over his lips, you're having the hardest time saying three dumb words that, for Minho, aren't dumb at all.

"Say it", he claims when you take more than a second. His hand on your hip sneaks up to your front, and he complicates things further by dragging it around your pelvic bone. His fingers travel to your lower stomach, the outline of your womb, and down to your sex. "Say you love my fingers, my cock, all of me".

Whereas you definitely do, the rubbing between your folds won't let you speak. His fingertips return to your clit, circling it over and over again until only inconsistencies come out of your mouth. Minho smiles because he knows you don't have to answer to agree with him.

"Only then can I make sure that none of this was in vain, that you’ll actually be mine when we leave this city".

You dig your nails into his hand that is still holding your jaw. Your walls twitch around him, and once he feels it, he makes solid circles with his fingers on your clit. Your thighs jerk, they become completely unstable while chasing your high. Minho doesn't stop, he finds the exact pressure and speed as he watches your features contract in pleasure. He thought that the most beautiful image he had seen so far was that of having you under him, but now that he has seen you directly in the eyes while you cum around him, he’s not so sure anymore.

The high-pitched whine that rips through your throat is just a sign that you can't hold it in any longer. Minho's eyebrows shrink over his forehead as he feels your walls throbbing around him. He can't help but drop his head and press your foreheads together, causing both of you to close your eyes. Noses touching and split lips gasping for air from both sides.

“You’re a freak”, you breathe out. There’s no other word that can describe exactly what you’re thinking at this moment. That same word you thought about when he showed you just one of the few things he wanted to do to you with his mouth.

“Thank you”, he smiles with his eyes still closed.

He's so proud of hearing it, but he’s also used to such an adjective. His fingers don’t stop despite the criticism that he doesn’t take as such. Your hand forcefully grabs his and tries to restrain his movements, achieving only to slow them down. He lets the euphoria of your high burn down little by little, breathing heavily on your face. He’s still buried so warmly inside you and feels that if you just move an inch, you will milk him dry. Sadly for his scented and clean clothes, your hand sneaks down to his thigh for support. You give him a short squeeze to get his attention, little realizing the effect your touch has on his sensitive nervous system. His hips roll up lightly, but they make you whimper.

“It wasn’t a compliment!”, you clarify your previous comment. “But ff―fuck, I do love you, your fingers, your cock, everything about you!”

Minho opens his eyes just to see the fucked up expression decorating your features. Your hand goes up to his face, holding his head close so he doesn't pull away. There is no second thought running through your head as you let your fingers tangle in his sweat-dampened strands of hair. You can only confirm one thing that you had already suspected from the first moment that you innocently gave yourself to him.

Gaze locked in his lips, you share it out loud. “No matter how much I try, you’re so fucking hard to hate”.

Minho licks his lips firmly. He doesn't close the distance to kiss you. No, he literally giggles childishly. “I love you too, angel of mine”, he whispers. “We’re gonna have so much fun at home”.

His head drops lower and hides into your neck, inhaling in your scent to focus on something other than how pathetically he’s being edged. You haven't lost track of it, in fact, you're so aware of how intensely he's spasming inside you that you roll your hips shortly to help him. Minho hisses, picking up right where the feeling was forming before. All of his senses are so overstimulated that it doesn't take you more than a few slips to hear him moan in your neck. He inevitably nibbles the skin, trying to contain the real sound that would come out of his mouth while creaming your insides. His thick shots spread out to the point of leaking out of your hole, that it’s still suffocating him. You gasp with the wet sensation, feeling so filthy. So dirty.

“Oh my God, look at the mess you made―”, you blurt, looking down. The modesty hits on you for the thousandth time. “How are you even going to clean all this up?”

Minho laughs, patting your thigh. He’s still feeling playful after all. "I won't", he mumbles. "I'll let our dance partner, coach and driver see you covered in my cum".

The sigh that comes out of your mouth is dramatic, but it's genuine. Of course you couldn't expect anything else coming from Minho. You hurriedly slip out of him, feeling completely exposed to your surroundings. You hear his complaint by moving way too roughly on his sensitive member, but it's the least he deserves for being so vulgar. You move to the side, adjusting your clothes as if you were about to run out of a motel hysterically after having an affair with your lover.

Minho flops down on the seat as well, removing the hoodie he's wearing over his head. You catch a glimpse of him, contemplating how ridiculously attractive he looks with his hair falling into his eyes. The reddish hue of his lips is reflected around his cheeks, which only give him an unreal beauty in such an unethical scene you two had just starred.

He tidies up his outfit just like you did, positioning the removed garment on top of his pants with no intention of finding another solution soon. "This will work for now".

You have no doubt that it will, because none of you will get out of this car. Minho reaches out his arm to take yours, showing that he's not done with you.

"Come here", he whispers so softly that you allow yourself to be drawn away, trusting that nothing bad will happen from now on. He positions you on top of him, feeling that he hasn't held you close enough as he wanted previously. He needs to see your face, your beautiful eyes in front of him, seducing him to tell you things he hasn't said to any girl before. "You don’t regret letting me be your first experience, right?", he asks in a tone of voice you've never heard before.

It is a tone that exposes the fear he feels to hear your answer. You shift on your weight to sit comfortably, encircling his shoulders with your arms. You free one of your hands to the front and smooth his tousled hair, seeing his eyes with clarity. They are expecting reciprocity. And you give it to him by shaking your head.

"No", you emphasize your gesture. "Even if you're a freak, I don't regret agreeing to that".

His hands encircle your lower back, holding you in his arms. He is too immersed in his thoughts to laugh at your comment. The corners of his lips barely rise.

"Do you think I can be your first sexual partner, then?"

There aren't many answers that may be hanging on the tip of your tongue. Still, Minho feels that he has risked too much.

"Or you could slap me right now and run away".

You have no choice but to snort at his clarification, remembering those words from the first night the two of you had an intimate encounter. If someone had predicted that all of this was going to happen that night, you're not sure you would have believed them.

Minho's lips falling into a pout invite you to press yours against them before you give him an answer. You feel how his jaw relaxes and he lets himself be carried away by the enchantment of your mouth, which entices him to deepen the kiss himself. Minho regrets at that moment each and every one of the mouths that he has kissed before meeting you, because he realizes that none of these kisses have been worth it.

Your taste is such a sweet vice. He never wants to stop kissing you if it were possible. That’s why he is not the one who separates from your lips, instead, you move away so as not to leave things unfinished. You hold his face in your hands, taking the break you needed to settle the thoughts in your head. You do want Minho to be your first sexual partner.

"Why would I slap you?", is what you say instead of explicitly accepting it.

"Because I made the same huge mistake you made".

You laugh. The smile that spreads across your lips takes on what you both feared at first. What you two avoided and denied at all costs while immersing in that jacuzzi for the first time, is now a reality.

"You got tangled”.

Minho can't deny your accusation, and not because it's absolutely true, but because the movement that draws attention through the window makes both turn your heads in that direction. The image of the umbrella being opened and revealing the coach walking out the hotel’s door with one of his suitcases is clear. You know that he’s possibly approaching to put it in the glove compartment. Minho has no choice but to wrap his arms around your middle, hugging you close to him and pressing you against his body to keep you as attached to him as possible before you get interrupted.

It is a fact. Lee Minho was your first time. He has uncovered a new side of you. He has taught you to experiment on sex, and as if that was’t enough, he has corrupted you. But it is even more evident that he has not been able to follow his one and only rule.

He sacrifices his pride and uses all his will to confirm your words in a small voice.

"I absolutely did".

EXTENDED AUTHOR'S NOTE ( ! ) thank you so much for reading, you don't know how much i enjoyed writing this fic and how much it inspired me to start writing other things that are already on the way. you may or may not know that i was on a hiatus due to my mental health, and for the past few weeks i've taken the time to come back and finish hard work like this.

thank you for giving me the space to share what i like to do, i would love to read your opinions about this fic. i will appreciate them all as much as i appreciate your interactions. i'm so happy that you love this blog as much as i do. stay, let's share many other fics, i'll do my best from this side !

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