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youarewhatyoulove-blog · 1 month

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the violence of the dog days.

pairing: jeongguk x reader

summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.

you're hot and horny for jeongguk.

rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)

genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp

word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.

warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).

author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.

You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.

The heat.

With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.

But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.

Perhaps you are, you think.

Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.

With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.

“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.

A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.

The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.

You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.

All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.

Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.

You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...

He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.

You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.

It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.

The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.

For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.

The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.

Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.

Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.

You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.

“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”

“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.

“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.

Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.

Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.

“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.

“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.

“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.

“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”

“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”

You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.

“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”

This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.

“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.

Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.

God, what is wrong with you tonight?

You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.

Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.

A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.

He feels his dick stir at the sight.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.

“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.

“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.

“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.

“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”

A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.

You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.

“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”

You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.

He always does.

“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.

You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.

“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.

“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.

You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”

You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.

He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.

“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.

“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.

You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”

Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.

The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.

“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”

“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.

“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.

You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.

“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.

“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.

You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.

It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.

Your body practically hums at the thought.

You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.

Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.

When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.

It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.

You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.

You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.

“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.

But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.

“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.

But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.

So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”

“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.

“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”

Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.

You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.

But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.

A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.

“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.

“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”

His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.

“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”

And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.

It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.

“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.

Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.

“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.

You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.

Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.

You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.

At least, not until now.

So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.

“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.

With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.

Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.

When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.

Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.

You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.

Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”

Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.

You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.

Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.

He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.

You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.

Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.

How did you ever get this lucky?

“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.

Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.

The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”

Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.

You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.

“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.

A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.

You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.

Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.

Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”

You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.

But Jeongguk's not having any of that.

He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.

You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.

Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.

“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.

He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.

With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.

You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.

But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”

And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.

He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.

“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.

But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.

He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.

Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.

“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.

With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.

He doesn't put it in though.

First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.

“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.

He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.

“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.

“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.

“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.

You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.

“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.

“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.

“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”

Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.

“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”

“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”

You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.

Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”

Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.

Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.

“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.

The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.

Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.

“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.

You really are going to be the death of him.

He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.

His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.

“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.

“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.

It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.

“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.

“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.

You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.

Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.

Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.

He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.

The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.

By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.

Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.

“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.

“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.

“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.

As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”

He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.

You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.

“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.

In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.

Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.

“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.

“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”

Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.

And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.

You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”

And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.

One that dresses all your bruises.

It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.

But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.

Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.

The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.

The spare toothbrush at his place.

The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.

Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.

You never want to let him go.

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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 22 days

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Sea Sickness

Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)

Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.

Requested: Nope.

Author’s Note: I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully). Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.

Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.

@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters

I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes

I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).

Requests are still open. Feedback is always appreciated. Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.

Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat.

Word Count: 488

Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play). Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again. The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick. You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder. He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest.

“You feeling ok?”

“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement. It being really hot out didn’t help either.

“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.”

Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements. Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.

Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction. Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two. Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them. Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.

“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.” You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort.

Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.

#nhl imagine #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #hughes brothers #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl #nhl players #hockey #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich imagine #umich x reader

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infinitystoner · 4 months

Text

First Light

AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: Vetrnætr (Winter Nights) is a time to welcome winter and honor the gods of old. But, on the first morning of festivities, the only thing Loki wants to celebrate is you.

Pairing: Prince!Loki x Female Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Tags/Content: Fluff, Praise, Smut (Fingering, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms), Established Relationship, Pre-Thor (2011), Asgard AU

Rating: Explicit; 18+

Author’s note: A belated birthday gift to my amazing friend @loki-cees-all. You are the Goddess of Patience and Mercy and I appreciate you so very much! I hope this one lives up the hype. xx

It was easy to dismiss quiet mornings on Asgard in favor of boundless nights under the stars. But you never felt more content than when the first rays of daylight bathed the kingdom in a hazy glow. Beyond frost-kissed windows, the wind whispered a tale of winter’s early arrival, and you burrowed further under the protective arm curled around your shoulders.

Waking before Loki was a rare occurrence, and you offered up a prayer of gratitude to the Norns when you realized your lover was still slumbering beside you.

He was a being of little sleep, often arguing those bestowed with divinity had more stamina than the average Æsir, therefore requiring less rest. You disagreed.

Well, somewhat disagreed.

You pulled your lip between your teeth as you observed evidence of the prior evening’s chaotic activities: clothing and armor were strewn about the room, pillows and pelts haphazardly adorned the hearthside, and papers from Loki’s desk littered the floor, his bookshelves standing slightly askew. Even the bedposts seemed to be off-kilter.

Loki absolutely had the stamina of a god.

Still, he hadn’t been getting enough sleep lately. The past few weeks preparing for Vetrnætr had taken a toll on him. Loki had been responsible for coordinating the arrival of visiting dignitaries and nobility while also leading what he’d described to you as “lighthearted diplomatic discussions” with the royal council of Vanaheim. Queen Frigga, however, had confided that he was single-handedly responsible for not only fortifying Asgard’s long-held alliance between the Vanir and Æsir but also negotiating a new trade agreement between the neighboring realms.

You carefully tilted your face upward, committing the splendor of him in this moment to memory. Swathes of amber light illuminated the rise and fall of his chest, mapping the gentle exhales through parted lips that assured you he was alive. That he was real. That he was yours.

Your family and fellow courtiers had thought you mad when you turned down the advances of several of the Allfather’s golden warriors. But it was when you refused Thor that you’d stirred up any true semblance of trouble. Then again, the elder Odinson had attempted to court at least half the eligible maidens of Asgard, so it wasn’t that scandalous.

What everyone didn’t know then was that your heart secretly belonged to another. And even now, years later, it was hard to comprehend that he returned your affections. But he did, and he made sure you’d never have reason to doubt him.

For so long, he had existed in the shadows of those around him. Only a sacred few saw his light shining through. And once he’d revealed the whole of himself to you, how could anyone else possibly compare?

True, he could be unpredictable and disruptive, but Loki approached everything in life with an unwavering sense of humble dedication. His fidelity was one of the things you loved most about him.

“My beautiful miracle.”

You’d only meant to think it—but hearing the whisper of affection fall from your lips seemed the perfect way to commence the day. Tracing patterns across the exposed skin of Loki’s abdomen, you studied the contours of his handsome face. Long lashes fluttered against high cheekbones as his eyes darted back and forth behind closed lids.

“What is it you dream of?” you whispered, gently placing a kiss on his sternum.

“A prince dreams of many things.”

His reply caused your heart to stutter within your chest. The trickster had been awake all along, basking in the warmth of your sentimentality like a cat soaking up the sun.

“I should’ve known you were only pretending to be asleep,” you pouted as he finally cracked open his eyes to peer down at you.

“Mmm, you should have,” he said as he wrapped his hand around yours, bringing it to his lips and tenderly pressing his lips to your fingertips. “But, I did have the most interesting dream. It’s worth hearing, I assure you.”

Loki was nothing if not convincing, and you were curious.

“Go on then. I’m listening,” you replied with a playful roll of your eyes.

Loki cleared his throat as he fluffed the pillow under his head. Stars above. He was as dramatic as he was mischievous.

“It was the final night of Vetrnætr and the kingdom was blanketed in snow. I was tasked with riding into the forests alone,” he said, absentmindedly trailing his fingertips down your arm as he spoke, “to defeat a great beast with my magick.”

His voice was impossibly alluring, much like Loki himself. Soon, you were clinging to every word—mesmerized by the magnificent man beside you.

“I found myself in the depths of wilderness—where no other soul had dared to tread before. I, of course, was quite brave in the face of this unknown danger.”

“Fearless, some might say,” you offered.

He hummed in agreement, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Finally, I reached my destination. But a horde of Bilgesnipes was blocking the creature I’d come to slay.”

“Oh?” you said apprehensively. He solemnly nodded.

“So, I conjured a simple spell to vanquish them. Imagine my surprise when I realized they were not, in fact, angry Bilgesnipes but your dreadful snores plundering into my subconscious mind.”

Your brain stuttered—did he just? Bilgesnipes?! Loki smirked at the utterly bewildered expression on your face before mimicking the way you opened your mouth in shock. You’d walked right into his little trap and he was enjoying it far too much.

“Loki Odinson! I do not snore.”

You sounded less defiant than you hoped, and—in a bid to get him to renege the obvious lie—you wriggled out from under his arm and tossed a pillow at his stupid, handsome face.

“I beg to differ.” Deep, mirthful laughter rumbled in Loki’s chest. “Now, wait a minute—”

Much to his dismay, you’d moved to the edge of the bed. As you gathered one of the fur blankets around your nude form, Loki propped himself up on his elbows, those stark green eyes focusing on you with an intensity that didn’t seem justified this early in the day.

“Darling, don’t go. I was only teasing.” He grabbed your wrist, and the coolness of his fingers against your flesh sent a thrill rippling through you. “Allow me to make it up to you.”

The offer was tempting but, with Vetrnætr on the literal horizon, you had a never-ending list of obligations to attend to.

“You know we’re both expected at the first morning feast.”

“Yes, and that is still hours from now. Come back to bed.”

“It will take me hours to get ready for the celebrations.”

Loki clicked his tongue as you shimmied off the bed. “What a shame you don’t have a skillful sorcerer at your disposal.”

“Such misfortune,” you quipped, fingers reaching to secure the fur around your shoulders. A curse left your lips as nothing but cold air enveloped you instead. Loki shot you a wink as a wisp of seiðr danced across his palm.

“You’re not playing fair.”

“Where there are wolf’s ears, wolf’s teeth are near.” Dimples adorned the corners of his mouth as he grinned up at you.

“And now you’re not making any sense!”

“So come back to bed, little fox. Please. Help me make sense of things.”

Three thoughts inhabited your mind in this moment: a persistent chill was quickly settling in your bones and Loki’s bed was impossibly warm; applying the ceremonial makeup you were expected to wear today would take at least an hour—and having Loki glamour it on would be terribly convenient; and, finally, you were absolute shit at denying him anything. And Loki knew it.

He stretched his long legs as he awaited your submission. The action caused the silk sheets to settle low around his waist. Shadows traversed the deep V of his Adonis belt like divine brushstrokes while sunbeams highlighted the devastating muscles of his godly physique.

You never stood a chance.

Your pulse quickened as you propped a knee on the mattress, giving him a coy smile. “Satisfied, your highness?”

Loki inhaled as he surveyed your figure. It was easy to assume he was memorizing the smooth curves and soft dips of your body. Every imperfection, dimple, scar—he’d studied and worshiped each precious part of you. But in truth, he knew the map of your body better than he knew the wilds of Asgard—how to expertly navigate your release, to intimately claim you as his time and time again.

“Not quite.” His eyes glinted with desire as he curled his hands around your waist, guiding you to settle against the pillows. You watched in awe as he pulled the sheets over the both of you, adjusting the layers of covers and pelts as he caged you in his arms.

“Perfect.” It was no more than a whisper. But the sense of pride that thrummed through you must have been palpable, because Loki leaned down and brushed his mouth against yours. You barely had time to inhale before his tongue was swiping over your bottom lip and then moving against your own in eager, equal measure. He was heavy on top of you as he settled between your open legs—your collective arousal evident as your bodies seamlessly slotted together. It was exhilarating and grounding and you ached for him. When you dug your fingertips into the firm swell of his ass in a silent plea for more, he broke the kiss.

“What is it, my love?” you asked, noticing a glimmer of tears swelling in his eyes as he pulled away from you. You cupped his cheek, and his gaze flitted across your face.

“What did I do to deserve you?” Loki took in a deep, shuddering breath before kissing you once more. Sparks of white-hot heat ignited your skin as your heart hammered in your chest. Could he sense how wildly it was beating for him? “I’m so proud of you. You know that, right?”

How could words ever truly express that the love you possessed defied explanation, transcended comprehension, and overwhelmed every fiber of your being? How could you adequately convey that his praise was your Valhalla?

You finally managed to say, “I know,” but your response melded into a moan as Loki’s lips made contact with your nipple, rolling its twin between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re so good to me.”

“So good,” you echoed, arching into his touch as Loki’s hand skimmed your curves before dipping between your legs.

He found you slick and ready for him, and he easily slid two fingers into your cunt, his palm pushing upwards against your swollen clit. Delicious pressure built in your hips with each skillful turn of his wrist and you greedily bucked into his hand, grasping at his biceps for leverage.

You were quickly losing yourself to the adrenaline searing through you, igniting every nerve ending like a thousand meteors shooting across the night sky. Still, you knew Loki revelled in the euphoria of your unraveling just as much as you did. He yearned to hear your small whimpers of pleasure, to feel your hands on his body and your fingers twisting in his hair as you came undone at his touch. To be connected without reservation.

He’d once confided in you that the reassurance of your touch sparked something within him comparable only to his seiðr—you had become just as much a part of him as the ancestral magick that flowed through his very veins. Imagining a reality without either was like envisioning a world without sunlight or stars.

“Loki. Loki.” His name was witchcraft on your lips and his fingers deftly twisted inside you in response. When he slowed his movements, you clenched around him, desperately running your hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders. His skin was damp with sweat, his muscles quivering under your fingertips.

“And so eager. Gods, you’re gorgeous when you’re about to come apart.”

When Loki was nestled between your thighs, worshiping your body as if you were the only thing in all the Nine, time stood still. You were teetering on the edge of sweet release—right where he wanted you. A frustrated noise caught in the back of your throat as he removed his fingers, your thighs trembling as your climax began to ebb.

“Patience.” He spoke purposefully against your heated skin, as if reciting an invocation.

“Til árs ok friðar.” Loki paused, looking up at you with eyes so full of adoration you felt as though your heart would burst. He repeated the ancient phrase. “For a good year. And peace. That is my wish for you—for us—my love.”

You were completely lost under his spell. Your only tether to reality was Loki. His forearm heavy across your midriff. His tongue flat against your clit.

“F-faen, I’m– please,” you slurred, your chest heaving with ragged, uneven pants.

“That’s it,” Loki coaxed. “Come undone for me.”

At his words, the overwhelming tightness in your core snapped. Your orgasm ripped through your body—your mind clearing itself of every lingering thought. The wild beat of your heart became the soundtrack of your bliss and you sobbed as the tip of his regal nose rubbed against your sensitive clit. His tongue continued to lap at the warm center of your cunt as aftershocks rolled through you, your body involuntary jerking at the overstimulation.

“Too much…”

“One more, darling. If not for me, for Asgard.” A wicked grin spread across his face—his lips and chin glistening with your arousal—before he dipped his head back between your thighs. “Consider it a royal decree.”

It was pointless to argue with him, especially when he set his mind to something. You wound your fingers into his unkempt hair, and before long, you were curling up off the bed as you juddered under his touch for the second time.

“Thank you,” you said softly as you came down from your high. Loki pressed his forehead to yours.

“A final gesture of goodwill,” he murmured, the blunt tip of his cock nudging your entrance.

“We’ll be late to breakfast. I- I dare not disgrace your good name, my prince,” you said, gasping into his mouth as he pushed deeper inside you. You didn’t care if you missed every single celebratory banquet this week.

“I’m honored you think so highly of me, little wife.” You groaned in unison as he bottomed out with a swirl of his hips. “But it would not be the first time we’ve vexed the House of Odin thus. Nor the last, I hope.”

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson

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melobin · 4 months

Text

જ⁀➴ yoga class 𐙚 shotaro

part of the riize as porn plots series.

summary - your friend drags you to a yoga class where you get a one on one lesson with the instructor.

wc - 2.7k

warnings - yoga instructor!shotaro x female reader, dom!shotaro, bad use of yoga terminology, mirror sex, unprotected sex, cream pie.

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“i’m glad you decided to come! yoga is a great way to destress and the instructor is really good, he’s super hands on with his teaching” you nodded as you listened to your friend talk enthusiastically about the yoga class she just had to drag you along to. she claimed during the short time she’s been attending them, her body has felt lighter and she’s felt happier. you thought you may as well try it once, wanting to know what she was kicking up a fuss about as well as having her finally shut up about it “he’s cute too”

“so why don’t you fuck him?”

“because, i’m leaving that to you” she giggled before opening the door to the room in which the class was taking place. the inside looked exactly as you’d expected it too, mats on the ground, middle aged women in sports bras and leggings that seemed a little too tight for them. maybe they enjoyed seeing themselves in the reflection of the mirrors that surrounded half of the room, or maybe they just enjoyed the attention of the yoga instructor your friend had told you about.

“shotaro!” you followed her eyes to the man who stood at the front of the room. okay, maybe he was cute.

“jisoo, a pleasure as always” his eyes trailed to you “you must be the friend she was telling me about, it’s nice to meet you, i hope you enjoy today’s class, it’s always nice to see fresh faces” despite mentioning you face, his eyes didn’t stay there. the usual disgust you’d be filled with at the sight of someone shamelessly checking you out didn’t appear, instead you felt appreciation. maybe even arousal at the feeling of his eyes so shamelessly lingering on your tits. “have you ever done yoga before?” his eyes met your briefly, you shook your head.

“no! but i’m sure i’ll enjoy every second of it” he smile at you softly, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he bidded you both goodbye so he could walk toward the front of the room to begin the class. if he already had his eyes on you before the class had even began, you were interested to see just how much attention you could get from him by the end of it.

jisoo pulled you toward the front of the class, bringing you down to sit with your legs crossed and your hands resting on your knees, some pose she called the easy seat. you were close to where shotaro stood on his own mat, it somehow felt inevitable for you to make eye contact with the man, too focused on him to even look at your own reflection in the mirror behind him.

“we’ll start with something simple, don’t want any of you pretty ladies to pull anything and get hurt do i?” you heard some of the older women giggle between themselves toward the back of the room, you were right with their intentions to get his attention. as much as you wanted to make fun of them for it you couldn’t, you would’ve done the same.

“this one is called the tree” he stood on his left leg, bringing his right one up and bending it so he could press the flat of his foot against his left thigh, he then closed his hands together in a prayer like stance. it seemed simple, as simple as yoga could be you assumed.

he took the class through a few different poses, slowly bringing you lower to the ground, a standing fold that had you bending your body down as far as you could and the downward dog, that one you were familiar with. it seemed easy, a little straining but it hurt in a good way. you knew your muscles were going to ache in a few hours but you didn’t mind.

“okay!” his voice brought your attention back to him “this is going to be a little straining, but we’re going to go into a plank, i’d like for you to hold it for anywhere between thirty seconds to a minute, if you can” a plank, just the sound of it made you want to die, but you couldn’t help but want to impress him. you’d regret everything about what you were about to do but you had to be the last one standing with it, you had to be the one to last the full minute.

okay, maybe you were over estimating yourself with your ability to do that because you knew you weren’t going to last the full minute. once you were in the position and he told you all to

begin it didn’t take longer than, you’d estimate, ten seconds of your muscles to start aching, twenty seconds before your legs were shaking and twenty-five seconds before your arms were shaking. thirty seconds was definitely more than enough time for you to be in the position for.

“you’re doing well considering you’ve never done yoga before” you heard his soft voice come from beside you, he had crouched down to be near your face, you felt his hand ruffle your hair before he laughed and stood up, moving toward the next person. that’s all it took for you to collapse onto your mat, wincing at the slight ache than ran through your legs.

“okay okay good work, didn’t realise i had so many pretty, talented ladies with me today” oh the charm, he knew what he was doing. he knew his main demographic of class attendees were middle aged house wives who are attention deprived due to their husbands always being at work or in some bar with their friends, he knew how to get them giggling and coming back for more. you were almost ashamed to admit it was working on you too.

“the last few things i want you to go into will help your body stretch and relax, this one is called the puppy dog pose and it’ll require you to kneel down and part your legs, stretch your body forward, arms reaching out as far as they can go with your back arched and your thighs up right causing the bottom half of your torso to stick up into the air” whilst you did understand his explanation, you think, you were glad that he decided to give a tutorial of the pose himself.

this was the position that finally gave you the hands on teaching that jisoo had mentioned, it was only a few seconds of you being in the position when you felt shotaro near you. behind you. he placed his hand on your upper back and knelt behind you, putting pressure on the skin between your shoulder blades.

“you’re very flexible” his voice was quiet, it seemed as if he only wanted you to hear him “i have another pose i think you’d look good in” he pressed himself forward, shivers ran through you as you felt his cock press against you, slotting the length against the valley of your ass cheeks, it seemed to fit perfectly “what do you say about staying behind after class so i can show you, hm?”

you barely let out a whimper, the pressure he was putting on your body had your knees weak, cunt leaking, slick seeping through your panties into your leggings “sounds perfect”. he laughed at your reply, slowly standing up before walking around the room. you couldn’t help but watch him through the mirror, he wasn’t as hands on with anyone else as he was with you, the ladies in the back seemed to be filled with dismay due to it. jisoo on the other hand, simply met your eyes through the mirror and laughed, mouthing something that seemed be along the lines of ‘have fun.’ oh, you were sure you were going to.

the last ten minutes of the class seemed to drag on a little too long for your liking, you felt relief run through you when he said it was finished. you weren’t sure how many more yoga poses you could have done whilst dripping the way that you were, you could still feel the outline of his cock pressed against your ass. if you weren’t about to be fucked silly in the middle of the room, then you were about to leave extremely disappointed.

you lingered around as you watched the women flock to him, telling him how much his classes had helped them and shamelessly asking him if he would mind providing some more private lessons. he laughed at their obvious attempts of seducing him, eyes locking with yours when he told them “private? sorry ladies i don’t do private lessons, but i know theres some instructors who do” he had a smirk on his lips, the right corner of them tugged up as he brought his eyes back to the women in front of him, laughing a little at their over-exaggerated, disappointed sighs. you felt a hand rest on your shoulder, you turned to see a very amused jisoo.

“you didn’t think i just brought you here to do yoga right? go get laid girl, you deserve it” she giggled as she left the room, soon after the rest of the women followed and before you knew it, you were alone with shotaro.

“come here” he beckoned you over to his yoga mat that stayed on the floor “why don't you lay down for me pretty girl” you done as he asked, he knelt between your legs, fingers running up your outer thighs before he brought your legs up to rest on his shoulders, parting them so one sat on each shoulder.

“this one is called the legs up” his fingers ran back down the sides of your legs before digging into your inner thighs, you felt his nails press into your skin through the material, his cock loose in his sweats, pressing against your clothed core. “this kind of position really helps your inner core stretch” he parted your legs a little more, shifting himself so he was pressed completely against you. god you wanted him so bad.

“i can feel it” you breathed out, eyes struggling to stay open as you felt him grind his bulge against you.

“oh yeah?”

“mhm” it came out as a moan, you didn’t mean for it to, but shotaro seemed to really enjoy the sound that left you.

“i think i have a way you can feel even more”

“why don’t you show me that way?” he smirked, fingers crawling up your thighs until they reached the top of your leggings. he hooked his fingers around the hem of them, grabbing your panties in the process, and pulled them down your legs until they were being discarded onto the floor next to you, you arched your back in order to help him, not realising you had given him the perfect view of your bare, sopping cunt. he groaned.

his fingers dropped to run through your cunt, tips of them circling your clit in a slow motion before dragging down your slit to push one into you. with how wet you were, you were sure you didn’t need much prep to take him, especially with the way your needy hole sucked his finger into you. he was quick to pull it out.

“you’re dripping onto my mat, baby”

“whatever, i’ll get you a new one” you seemed eager, he loved it.

he pushed his own sweats down, cock throbbing at the sudden cold air that hit it. he was red, swollen. he definitely didn’t have the biggest cock out of the men you’ve been with, but something was telling you that it didn’t matter. he knew how to use it regardless.

“your little cunt looks like it’s begging for me to fuck it” he was refering to the way he swore he saw your empty hole clench in anticipation, the clenching only increasing when you felt the tip of his cock press against your clit. you could only whimper when you felt him drag it down your slit and the head of his cock press against your hole, a moan slipping from your lips as the head of his cock pushed into you.

his thumb fell to your clit as his other arm wrapped around your thighs, he pushed the rest of his cock into you in one quick thrust, your body shuddered as you took him. it didn’t take long for his hips to be rolling against yours, his thumb rubbing loose circles against your clit to stimulate you more.

shotaro knew how to fuck, there was no denying it. his hips rolled perfectly against yours, cock dragging against your walls, you were able to feel every inch of him, each vein that bulged out of his cock with each thrust. he knew what he was doing and you were more than content laying back and taking whatever he gave you.

“feel so good ‘taro” your words came out breathless, whines slipping from you in between them. you clenched around his cock as you spoke to him, wanting him to know just how good he really was making you feel.

“oh yeah?” there was a cockiness to his voice, it only turned you on more “need to fuck you from behind, need to see your pretty ass as i fuck your sweet little pussy” you whined as he pulled out of you, but were happy to let him grab you by your hips and press you onto your stomach, fingers digging into your sides are he pulled your ass into the air and reached down to press your upper back down against the mat. it felt very similar to the pose he had you in around twenty minutes prior.

“god, you’re so perfectly like this” you weren’t sure if he was talking to you or himself at that point, none of that cared as he eased his cock back into your awaiting cunt. you sighed in relief when you felt him fill you up again, he seemed to fuck you even better from this angle. his cock moved inside of you perfectly. fucking into your cunt with a feeling that could only describe as pure need and desire.

you could tell just how into it he was when you briefly looked into the mirror, his eyes were fixated on the way your cunt swallowed his cock, lips parted and cheeks flushed as he fucked you. you wondered how often he found himself in this position, if he got to others the way he got to you, it must’ve been often.

you were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt his hand leave your back and sneak under your body to press his fingers against your clit, pads of them rubbing against the nub, keeping a rhythm that matched his thrusts.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum” his words set a fire in your stomach, wanting to cum with him, needing to feel his cum shoot inside of you and have him fill you up “come on baby, make a mess on my cock, cum with me” his words were close to pushing you over the edge, your fingers gripping his mat, creasing it under you as your thighs began to shake.

“gonna cum” it was barely a whine, you sounded so sweet and desperate, felt so warm and wet, he knew the second you fell over the edge he’d be following. he wouldn’t be able to hold back feeling you tighten any more around him.

“i got you, baby, come on” that was all it took, you spilled over his cock, squeezing it tightly with you cunt as you came around him. his orgasm hit barely a second later, his fingers not stopping on your clit as he pressed himself as deep as he could inside of you, holding himself there as he let his cum fill you up. “good girl, taking every drop of me”.

you were whining until his fingers stopped, thighs quivering as he pulled out of you, both of his hands went to the lips of your pussy. he pulled them apart, watching the way his cum leaked out of your hole and down onto the mat below you.

“fuck” he cursed as he watched the sight in front of him before laughing “you really owe me a new mat”.

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#riize smut #shotaro smut #✧ melody posts

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tiredfox64 · 18 days

Note

Hello! Sooo I had this idea of a forbidden love story between Bihan and the reader. The reader is a good friend of Liu Kang and was assigned to assist Kaui Liang and Tomas with the Shirai Ryu and becomes friends with them. Despite all that, Bihan was already in love with the reader because she's genuinely a good and innocent person and feels the need to be protective of her while the reader struggles with her feelings because he's now a traitor even though she's attracted to him.

How Could You

Prior notes: Reader: I think I’m in love with Bi-Han. Any thoughts?

Liu Kang: And prayers, you’re going to need them.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Angst or even none. I don’t know you decide. I’m not your mom, Tyler!

Bi-Han was many things but you would have never imagined he would be a traitor to Earthrealm. It broke your heart to hear the news from Lord Liu Kang. But that feeling was swept away once he gave you more news.

“Not all hope is lost. Kuai Liang and Tomas have creating a new clan to defend Earthrealm. The Shirai Ryu. Your service is needed as I want you to help their clan grow strong. For now there are no threats but we can never be too careful.” He said.

You have your own mission now. A service to Lord Liu Kang, to the Shirai Ryu, and Earthrealm. But you can’t get over that feeling in your chest. That sorrow of Bi-Han being gone.

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Your service was indeed needed. Finding the right initiates was difficult even with the help of Harumi. The only one who was able to bring any hope was Hanzo yet even he needed a lot of work.

Your personality made it easier. Your heart of gold attracted many to come. None wanted to disappoint you. If someone failed and they saw you frown they immediately fixed their errors just to see you smile and cheer them on.

Your need to care for others also helped greatly. If anyone was injured you were quick to patch them up and make sure they were well rested. It quenched people’s worries about being badly hurt and never recovering. If you can care for a little bunny who was only acting hurt for attention, you can take great care of a person.

You also grew closer to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Kuai Liang would have thought this task would be much more difficult even with the help of his wife. Seeing how you brought hundreds to the clan and continue to bring more made you a true gem to him. Tomas especially was grateful of your good deeds. You were useful when training the initiates as you were able to simplify instructions to the others comprehension. If Tomas wasn’t able to make them do what he wanted them to do he would have thrown in the towel way too early.

You even sparked a great relationship with Harumi and Hanzo. Harumi not only appreciated your help when it came to training but housing all the new initiates. You made everyone comfortable and placed them in the rooms they most likely wanted to stay in. You gathered food and helped cook as well. Cooking for hundreds was not an easy task but you were always willing to help and give the healthiest meals. Everyone needed to be in tip top shape. Hanzo, though a rambunctious teenager with great anger, was able to be calmed by your presence. I think he could sense that you have a good heart. You understood his frustration and how he had to survive by being a thief. You reassured him that those days are done and he is in good hands. He will become great and strong, you will make sure of that.

The Shirai Ryu was flourishing. The combined effort of everyone resulted in a fine clan. A clan you felt like could be as great as the Lin Kuei. Things looked up yet you still felt down about Bi-Han’s betrayal. You’re not alone in that and you knew it. You couldn’t let others find out about your feelings. So when the end of the day would come and you were left by yourself, your smile would falter. Tears would prick your eyes. You thought Bi-Han would be good, at least for you.

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Bi-Han felt it was necessary to separate his clan from the binds of Lord Liu Kang. But at what cost.

He has earned them infamy which he could never accept. But he was forced to accept the fact that he lost you. He lost the one person who could warm his frozen heart. Hands that would hold his heart and let the ice melt.

Even when you two met there was a strange spark. You would always go next to him yet keep distance as to not upset him. You would say anything and everything to him when he never asked for him. At first he would tell you to shut up and leave him alone. No matter what you always came back. You would be hiding behind a tree and watching him from a distance just to get a glimpse of him.

You never knew why but Bi-Han made you feel things. Maybe it was his handsome face. Or that deep voice that when he grunted you felt something in your stomach. Or his muscles that seemed so fun to touch. Soon enough he started getting the hint.

You know what they say, opposites attract. Though he always found goodness to be a weakness he saw how it benefited. Whenever you visited the Lin Kuei wanted to impress you and so they worked harder than before. All those times Bi-Han would yell at them they never worked harder. But encouragement from you made them into fighting machines. Who would have thought.

Then you started to get real nice to him. That moment when you tucked that piece of loose hair behind his ear he always remembered to keep a loose strand of hair out. He wanted you to do it over and over again. Have your fingertips lightly graze his face and feel how warm you were against his cold skin. You noticed the effect it had on him and used it to your advantage to be closer to him.

He liked, no, loved when you praised him for his skills. It made him feel superior to everyone, including his brothers. Cause he should be superior to them as he was the grandmaster.

Bi-Han was disgusted by the people in his clan when they would make lewd comments about you. Comments about your chest, your hips, your thighs, your everything. Or when they criticize you for being too nice or too much of a goody two shoes. He didn’t know what came over him but he would end up nearly beating them to death during training. They’d act surprised that their grandmaster would do such a thing, nearly crippling some of his best fighters. But when it comes to you it doesn’t matter. He has to protect your honor. He has to protect you from the filthy eyes of lowlifes. You need his protection.

But your innocence. That was quite a shock to him.

Never had a kiss? Not even on the cheek? Well, he fixed that right up. When you confessed to him that you never gotten a kiss from a man he felt it was his duty to fix that. It’s an honor to be kissed by the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Even a kiss on the cheek sent you into a spiral. His lips barely touched you! Yet you reacted as if you two had a five minute make out session. Your mouth was shut tight and you placed your forehead on his arm to help cool you down. Bi-Han couldn’t help it, he had a small smirk on his face which he hid from you. He could only imagine how you would have reacted if he did it on the lips.

But he might never know. Because he messed up by being a traitor. Some days he feels like he did the right thing by gaining the Lin Kuei’s freedom. While others he feels anger because he can’t be near you.

When he heard that you were helping the Shirai Ryu he went mad. Anything in his sight was targeted. Spikes made of ice littered the land. Their jagged and cold form matched how he felt in his heart.

Now who will protect you from the filthy pest of the world. Bi-Han doesn’t know where you are. The Shirai Ryu are too good at hiding and that makes them cowards. Someone could take your innocence and what then. His brothers don’t care about you like Bi-Han cares about you. You’re only safe in his arms and in his sight. You must never be left alone with anybody. Filthy men putting their hands on you, that thought alone makes him furious.

You were his light in a gloomy world. Even if you were friends with Lord Liu Kang he saw you as your own person. A victim to Liu Kang who probably has you wrapped around his fingers. You need to be free just like him. Not following orders like you are now. You must be so depressed without him.

In a way you are as you still struggle to accept the situation. You’re no victim however. Even though Liu Kang said you were done with your task a while ago you still continue out of the kindness of your heart. It’s the right thing to do. But you will continue and mourn what could have been.

If only he kept you in mind when Shang Tsung made that horrible offer. None of this would have happened. This shouldn’t have happened.

You’re only left with sadness. You lost someone you were willing to love and change. You were so close to warming Bi-Han’s heart. You warmed it enough that he feels regret for what he has done. But he can’t turn back now. What’s done is done. Maybe in another timeline he was never a traitor. In another timeline you two are together where he can protect you and love you for who you are.

After notes: If I have not satisfied your needs you can force me to eat British Chinese food. Or you can yell at me either one goes, you can even tell me to redo it all. A little bit of a warning I might be silent for one or two days just cause of classes. Literally have to make a 6-8 minute speech about contraceptives in the span of two days. So either it will be backpocket fics, reblogs (I have faith in the 🍊), or nothing. You’ll know when you’ll know. Adiós!

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vampiric-tempt · 7 months

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By any chance, I think it would be rlly funny to do headcanons on how some mk1 characters react to gn reader drinking milk and like, them getting flustered when you have milk on your lips (dirty minded) 😭🙏

(preferably with at least Bi-Han, Johnny and Liu Kang?? U can add other characters ofc!!)

↳˳❝ mk1 men having dirty thoughts when reader is drinking milk ᵕ̈೫˚∗🥛

✦ headcanons w/ Liu Kang, Bi-han, Tomas Vrbada, Kuai Liang, Johnny Cage, & Kenshi Takahashi

a/n: I adored writing this request. It was so fun to do! Thank you sm for requesting anon!

Liu Kang ➤ As composed as the god of fire appeared to be. He too was guilty of his own fantasies'. It was a simple hangout at Madam Bo's and you had decided to order milk to ease the spiciness of your food. What Liu Kang was not expecting was the dribble of milk that had spilled past your lips and down your chin. You grew embarrassed, quickly looking around for a napkin to clean it up. Liu Kang shook away the thoughts, handing you a napkin. "Thank you Liu." You gave him a soft smile and he practically swooned. God, if only it were something else that would spill out of your mouth. Liu Kang thanked the elder gods for the wooden table hiding his excitement.

Bi-Han ➤ Bro became as stiff as a board. His eyes attentively watching you drink the glass of milk. As much as he appeared stoic, he shifted in his spot as a small trail of the white liquid spilled past your lips. And god did his mind fill with thoughts of him absolutely fucking your mouth to the point it was his own cum that would spill past your lips. However, as the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he simply watched as his own mind tortured him, arm flexing from how tense he was and a raging boner crying for attention. Of course, he did punish you for giving him those thoughts. Your moans filling the grandmaster's quarters later that night.

Tomas Vrbada ➤ By the gods, he was losing his mind. Tomas gulped in his spot, eyes watching how your lips met the edge of the glass as you drank the godforsaken liquid. And he simply lost it when bits of the milk fell past your lips, your finger reaching up to wipe it away in such a hot manner. You better believe Tomas scurried away and jerked himself off to the thought of you drinking that damn glass of milk. Little whimpers and whines of your name leaving the ninja's lips like prayers till his own cum covered his hand and stomach. "Fuck, they make me crazy." He pants.

Kuai Liang ➤ He tried to do his best to respect you. Truly, he did, but his mind had betrayed him. The way the milk had spilled past your lips and some dripping down to your collarbone, his throat went dry. "Can you pass me a napkin please?" You asked so sweetly. Kuai Liang, instead grabbed it and wiped the milk from you himself, a small smile plastered on his lips. "So clumsy." He says, mind already swarming with ways he was gonna please you later on. "Teasing me on purpose, weren't you?"

Johnny Cage ➤ He doesn't even hide it. He's staring, nodding his head in appreciation at the sight, and biting his lips. "God damn baby, you look so hot drinking that milk." He says. You nearly choke, milk spilling past your lips. "I'm drinking fucking milk." You deadpan. Johnny literally groans. "Fuck, look at the way the milk is on your lips, driving me crazy huh." You shake your head in disbelief, but the little smirk that reached your lips did not go unnoticed by Johnny. Next thing you knew, both you and him were on each other in private location, needily grasping at each other's bodies.

Kenshi Takahashi (before the mileena incident) ➤ The absolute side eye he kept giving you. It wasn't from annoyance, but pure lust. He couldn't help himself as he watched you drink the milk, jaw clenching from how turned on he was. You did notice his stares eventually, a teasing tone leaving your lips. "Something the matter, Kenshi?" You say as your tongue licks the access milk on the corners of your mouth. Kenshi sucked in a breath. "No, nothings wrong." But there definitely was something wrong as you had Kenshi tossing his head back in bliss from how good you sucked him off moments later.

╰┈➤ masterlist

#mortal kombat hcs #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat smut #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mk1 #gender neutral reader #mdni #johnny cage x reader #kuai liang x reader #bi han x reader #Tomas vrbada x reader #liu kang x reader #kenshi x reader

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quimichi · 7 months

Text

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ YOUR GOOD BOY ALONE, MY GRACE

Childe x Creator!Reader

"I've done my best, Your Grace," Childe murmurs. After a moment, he raises his eyes to meet yours, and he seems to be holding his breath. He speaks quietly, just above a whisper. "Am I.... still your good boy?" You can't tell if he's asking if you approve of his actions, or if his obsession is still being requited. He's desperate, and he keeps his gaze locked on your face.

"Yes you are, my good boy" The sound of his breath escaping him is sharp, and his eyes close. His body seems to relax with a sigh. He is relieved, grateful beyond words. But there is still desire there. His eyes flicker open again.

Childe's blue eyes are fixed on yours, his gaze devotional, his mouth soft. "What is your command, Your Grace?" "Come here" you purr gently. "As you wish," Childe follows your order without so much as a second thought. He seems to float over to you, the movements of his body graceful and sinuous. With no fear, he takes a seat beside you.

The sight of you touching him enacts a primal reaction. His heart skips a beat, and he trembles slightly. Every movement you make sends sensations of electricity through his veins. His eyes are closed, and the light flush on his cheeks makes him look like a painting. He breathes deeply, and he opens his eyes again. All he feels is love, adoration, and an overwhelming sense of need.

For you, and only you.

"Yes, I am your good boy...." The words fall from his lips like a prayer. "I'm yours, and only yours. I live for you, and I love you... and I desire you." His voice is hoarse— he needs air. But your hand is on his cheek, and his eyes are focused on that soft, smooth skin. He does not look away. The way you say the word sends shivers down his spine. It sounds like a promise, or a reward. Childe can feel himself shivering despite the warmth of your touch. His blue eyes are dark, and glazed as he stares at you. "What have I done to deserve your grace... Your love?"

"Everything", you could never imagine it any differently anyway. He's a loyal, trustworthy and appreciative servant.

Childe seems to choke, suddenly, and his cheeks burn bright red. He looks away from you, ashamed. "I only wanted to do right by you," he whispers. He can barely stand up straight, he's so weak. He leans closer to you, so that you can hear his next words.

"You're the only one who matters. And only you." He said almost in trance. "I will forever stay your good boy," Childe says, without hesitation. His voice is fervent. He is loyal to you and you alone. Nothing and no one matters, except for you.

"Your good boy alone, my grace"

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau x reader #childe x reader #genshin childe #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #self aware genshin #sagau childe #sagau creator

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ovaryacted · 5 months

Text

This is a random thought but just imagine inviting Leon over for Thanksgiving for the first time.

It would be so endearing, so sweet because he doesn’t really have any family left or someone remotely close to him. Maybe the Redfields would invite him so they could spend time with him but I think it would be so cute to see this white man coming into another household especially if it’s a household of color or of another ethnicity.

That poor boy would come into unfamiliar territory, not knowing how to interact outside of saying hi and hello and he would be awkward and nervous and you have to hold his hand to make sure his anxiety doesn’t spike. But when he makes a relative laugh, he thinks it’s okay and starts chatting it up some more. Shares a drink or two, and it’s really all smiles from there as the family members give off the vibe of “YOU AIGHT WHITE BOY!” and Leon thinks he’s won the jackpot.

Then it’s time for actual dinner, and after saying grace and the thanksgiving prayer, Leon goes to TOWN. He fills his plate up with everything he sees, not knowing what some things are but he just gets it anyway. You’re in front of him guiding him around the food selections, and he’s asking you along the way “What’s that? What’s this?”, while putting some on his plate anyway. Collard greens, candied yams, mac n cheese, ham, turkey, pork, cornbread, macaroni salad, mashed potatoes, dressing, lasagna, peach cobbler, banana pudding, apple pie, literally EVERYTHING. He’ll have the sweets on one plate so it doesn’t mix with the rest of his food.

And when he finally sits to eat, he eats it all in silence. Literally just munching away and basically inhaling his damn food. He’s hunching over his plate and not lifting his eyes up for a second, and if you look at him closely he’s just shaking his head in awe from how good the food is, feels like he could cry. He’s a foodie at heart and finds comfort in it, and knowing he’s getting home cooked food made with so much love would probably make him emotional because that to him is a privilege he never got to experience until he met you. You’re just watching him eat for a good minute, how he basically licks his plate clean, and when he really is finally done he asks if he could get a second plate. That grants him a kiss from granny and appreciation from some of the other relatives who cooked the meal, as if they were giving him a blessing.

Best believe, Leon would make sure to get multiple to-go plates, probably even a tray of stuff he’ll make sure to eat tomorrow. He’s satisfied, happy, and he’d be sitting on the couch next to you fighting the itis BAD because he’s ready to just fall asleep after eating so much. And he looks at you with so much adoration and love in his eyes, he doesn’t need to vocalize how thankful he is to have you in his life, you can see it all in his face. You just give him a soft kiss on his cheek and tell him those three words he loves to hear from you so much.

#ovaryacted thoughts #leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy drabble #somebody please just get this man some good food #I know he deserves it #he’s a big boy who’s gotta eat #HE NEEDS TO EAT GOOD PLEASE SOMEBODY DO IT #RE2 leon would genuinely have a blast I think #YOU AIGHT WHITE BOY!

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thesiltverses · 25 days

Note

Hello! I found the silt verses about three weeks ago and have listened to it several times since. I have a few things to say.

I absolutely adore that episode about the national grid workers. I think it’s my favorite episode of any podcast I’ve ever listened to. My favorite part of that first episode Paige is in is how she justifies not standing up for Vaughn, that cognitive dissonance that you wrote so well. This episode gives me what I wanted from that episode, the workers all banding together to stop the wasteful sacrifice of one of them. The actor who played the foreman did an incredible job as well. I think that having him discuss which of his workers he would sacrifice was such a significant moment, despite how brief it is. It cuts right to the big question that I took away from the podcast which is, “How much is someone willing to sacrifice in order to maintain their comfort?” And the utter disrespect of Glodditch (apologies for the spelling) refusing to cancel even the radio but asking grid workers to kill themselves for 200kw/h! Top tier episode.

I grew up in the south and went to college in Appalachia. I saw the disparity in technology and “advancement” if that makes sense that poverty brings, and the way you set up the world invokes that feeling in me again. You are an amazing world builder and storyteller.

I really enjoyed the cameos - I’m a big fan of malevolent/devisor, Old gods of Appalachia, and all of Jonny sims work, so hearing familiar voices was an absolute delight. Harlan Guthrie as an acolyte of the snuff gods might have been a bit too on the nose with some of the things that man writes, though… /pos

I’m transmasculine, and something that I really appreciate is how you manage to make a trans man do some objectively awful things, but still manage to make him a complex, full character that I was rooting for very frequently. Brother Faulkner is so, so important to me as a character. Paula Vogel has a play called “Indecent,” which is about the true story of a troupe of I believe German Jewish actors between the years of 1910ish and 1940s putting on a show called “God of Vengeance” by Sholem Asch, also a Jewish man. “God of Vengeance” has queer themes and received a lot of criticism from the Jewish community for showing Jewish folks in a “bad” light at a time when there was already so much hatred for Jewish people. Brother Faulkner being as complex and, in my opinion, malicious and cutthroat as he is at a time when trans people face so much bigotry, especially legislatively in the United States, brings this conversation about “God of Vengeance” up again for me. I also love how normalized non-binary people are in this world, without question. “Sibling this or that,” the hunter, adjudicator Shrew - big thanks from me for all of this.

All of this to say, I love this podcast. Can you talk more about the rhetorical gods? Is Babble one? What makes them one if they are, or why aren’t they? I’m fascinated by them. Can you talk more about the propaganda gods too?

Thank you so much for the thoughtful and kind words!

I'll check out Indecent, it sounds really interesting and I'm very glad to hear Faulkner works for you as a character. I think the topic of how to include and write queer characters who are capable of terrible things and thoughts (because, after all, these characters are human beings and not tutelary exemplars), within the context of both a rising movement of transphobia right now and centuries-old scapegoating / pathologising portrayals more generally, is a really knotty but a really important one, and I always want to make sure I'm approaching it with care and due responsibility as well as a sense of humility around the limitations of what, as a cis writer, I can actually achieve.

To that end, I don't want to ever take the audience response for granted, but I'm always really grateful to hear that the portrayal is working for a listener!

Propaganda gods: gods whose prayer-marks or ritual verses are fed directly to the enemy, enforcing destructive or sabotaging changes to reality (so rather than sending a destructive saint or angel to rampage over the foe, you might drop pamphlets or send radio messages to the enemy to 'convert' them).

Rhetorical gods: gods whose followers possess reality-warping powers of language itself (which is why 'rhetorical god' is a polite way of saying 'liar's god'). In other words, the paranoia around them comes partly down to the fact that a disciple like Val may appear to be a limitless shaper of new forms, rather than shaped into a limited form of their own, as a result of their worship.

#carmen maria machado has a fun mini-essay about queer villainous portrayals which I do recommend

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cutielando · 2 months

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dating - headcannons ~ jj maybank

you were childhood best friends

ever since you could remember, you would always do everything together

you guys also lived next to each other, so you were almost always having out at each other’s house

you would get together very randomly, kissing one day and deciding to just wing it from there

he didn’t have much material wise to spoil you, but he made up for it with sweet gestures

he is such a gentle and passionate lover

has to be touching you at any time

he would either have a hand on your thigh, a hand on the small of your back or his arm wrapped around your shoulder to practically smother you into his side

occasionally, when he would get jealous, he would downright squeeze your ass or slap it in front of everyone so they could all know who you belonged to

would never let you hang out at his house while his dad was there, too afraid that his father’s temper could get you caught in the middle of a fit of rage

he would take you to the best parties on the island

would constantly be with you at the parties, not trusting the other guys not to hit on you

fights anyone that dares to look at you the wrong way, or if he hears anyone saying something inappropriate about you or your body

he’s a gentleman, always opening doors for you, treating you like the princess that you were

would take you for rides on his bike whenever you two were bored or when you couldn’t sleep at night

from the money he was getting from his job, he would prepare the cutest dates, buy you flowers that you knew were not cheap, occasionally buy you some really nice clothes you would be eyeing in the shops

you guys would have constant sleepovers at your house, JJ doing everything he could to spend as little time as possible at his house

he was very cuddly in bed, especially when he was tired

he wouldn’t say anything, he would simply enter your bedroom, disregard his clothes somewhere on your floor and then fall flatly on the bed, instantly cuddling up to your body and hiding his face away from the world in your chest

he had your parents in love with him, showing them that he intended to treat you with the utmost respect

very jealous, like he would glare at any guy that you would talk to, not bothering to ask for context

he was also a very passionate lover

before you, he would only have meaningless hook-ups, nothing ever came from any of them and he didn’t want anything serious with either of them

when you came along and had sex for the very first time, he knew he was a goner

you would never even think about being with anyone other than JJ

he knew your body like the back of his hand, all of your weak spots were stuck in his mind like a prayer

would praise the hell out of you during the act

“You’re doing so good for me”, “My baby girl, taking me so well”, “You’re the hottest woman I have ever laid my eyes on”, “Your pussy’s so good, I can’t get enough”, “You drive me crazy, baby”

he was very big on hickeys, wanting to make sure that nobody got any ideas and they knew who you belonged to

he loved you with every fiber of his being, he never thought he could ever love someone as much as he loved you

you guys would 100% end up getting married, it was just a fact

goals, no question about it

would probably end up going full Kook, buy a big mansion on Figure 8 and have 2-3 kids

you kept each other grounded, you helped each other find happiness again and loved each other like there was no tomorrow

match made in heaven

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aziraphales-library · 6 months

Note

Hi! I love this blog so much, it's a lifesaver! I was wondering if you could recommend any fics along the lines of Angels hearing prayers (Specifically Aziraphale hearing Crowley's prayers) or even the alternative where demons can sense lust and Crowley is very aware of Aziraphale's less than innocent feelings toward him?

Hello! The first thing I thought of was this little ficlet on tumblr, so check that out. And here are three fics in which Aziraphale hears prayers (the first of which is post-series two!) and three fics in which Crowley can sense lust...

Just Called To Say Fuck You I Love You by Sodium_Azide (E)

Aziraphale discovers that being the Supreme Archangel of Heaven, in Heaven, means that one hears direct prayers. He makes this discovery when a lonely and heartbroken Crowley thinks about his angel during a sad wank session. Evocative imagery, yearning, and visceral appreciation and longing for him do a great deal to bring perspective to an angel who felt cornered into painful choices. Fuck this, he's going home.

So Much to be Consoled as to Console by Arokel (T)

“What are you,” Crowley drawled, “the patron saint of queer kids?” A series of lost souls over the centuries who prayed, whether they knew it or not, to the Angel Aziraphale.

The Still of Your Hand by AshCommaMan & EmAndFandems (E)

Six thousand years is a long time to pine for someone. Two thousand years is a long time to have sex with someone. Seven hundred years is a long time to be friends with someone. Eternity is a long time to love someone. It's worth the wait. Crowley and Aziraphale through the ages, as we've seen them - and some years we haven't - having lots and lots of emotionally fraught sex. Following from Rome to post-canon in 177K words.

Delectable by fuchsiaring (E)

Just as Crowley is nodding to himself, resolute in his plan, there’s a shiver in the air, like the way summer heat rolling off the pavement ripples with the swelter of it. Crowley can feel it in his chest, in his veins, thrumming in his bones. He knows this feeling, has felt it a fair few times in his centuries. Lust. -- Crowley senses lust from Aziraphale's flat above the bookshop. What's there to do besides follow the feeling?

In The Garden by kraken_creature (E)

"It started in the garden. No, not that garden. This garden came much later. Having swapped back into their own bodies, Crowley invited Aziraphale to lunch and he, with frustrating good humour about it, smiled and said that Crowley had succeeded in tempting him. And that was it. Crowley felt the familiar itch start in his hands, wanting to touch Aziraphale, wanting to hold him." Crowley spends an awkward time at the Ritz pining and lusting over Aziraphale, completely unable to articulate his feelings until he's compelled to make the first move.

I Was Never Forbidden Fruit by Sevynlira (E)

Sometimes a little miracle can get a lot out of hand. For sure if you have been holding onto it for a few thousand years. Silly angel.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #prayers #aziraphale can hear prayers #lust #crowley can sense lust #adult omens #mod d

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cinnamostar · 5 months

Text

02: home

part one.

pairing : minho x gn!reader

summary : “I have known you for thousands of lifetimes, and I don’t regret meeting you in a single one.”

wc : 7.3k

cw : childhood friends, arguing, angst, sadness, mentions of bullying + racism/xenophobia, best friends to lovers, fluff, sappiness, its so doooomed

a/n : pls read part one before this! i was in so much pain as i wrote this, so im sorry in advance, my dear reader. please let me know what you think! likes and reblogs appreciated

tags: @im-on-a-hellavator , @httpswilloww @atinyniki (its not letting me tag so i hope this works ;w;)

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Maybe that was a little too harsh, Minho thought to himself as he remembered your glassy eyes and the guilt that painted your face a depressing blue, the bashful glowing smile of yours he adored nowhere to be found. Oh, how his heart soared to the heavens when he saw you back at the pond you both once called home years later, the same vibrance you carried as a child seemed to have never left you even after so many years. How he missed seeing you smile so timidly, yet lovingly, at the tadpoles who swam underneath the pond's surface, how he missed seeing how breathtakingly beautiful you looked as the wind bellowed through your locks, and how he missed you.

It didn’t matter how many times the earth had rotated around the sun, it didn’t matter how long it had been, his heart could never let you go.

The instant he saw someone standing at the pond, his body and soul knew it was you, there was no way he’d ever mistake that nostalgic, comforting presence of yours as anyone else’s. The way the soft rays of the sun highlighted your features nearly made his heart skip out his chest, as if he just saw an angel standing before him; the cherub he once knew as a child had grown up.

How he hoped you’d finally come back home to him, how he desperately wished for years to relive the sweetest moments of his childhood, how he wished you were there for each and every milestone in life, and how he wished you two could finally make up for lost time. And while his heart yearned for you, the abandonment he felt in his childhood festered inside him, as if he had taken a swig of poison that sought to destroy the love and adoration he had for you in a bitter, resentful, rage. He couldn’t help it, the pain and misery he felt growing up had never truly left and your presence reawakened those wounds he never learned to heal. His heart stretched painfully in this twisted game of tug-of-war, unsure on whether he should feel thankful for your return or relent to the enmity that had rotted within him for god knows how long.

Yet, it was so easy to submit to the indignation he was feeling as it overpowered any sense of gratefulness, choosing to ignore the miracle of you being back as his mouth soured over the taste of resentment.

Had his prayers finally been answered? Has he finally wished you back into his life? I’m an idiot, he cringed as he began to regret his behavior. Maybe his anger wasn’t justified, maybe he should’ve met you with more grace. After all, you weren’t wrong, you were just a kid who knew no better. It wasn’t fair to him, but neither was his treatment to you after the fact. Ah. The guilt you must’ve felt over the years could not have been easy to manage on top of the stress of living in an entirely foreign country, as your tearful eyes showed him how much you had been agonizing over this. For so long, he had convinced himself you had forgotten him entirely, no longer cared for him as he mourned over you as if you had died, yet the years of the youth you both shared came rushing in like a tsunami the minute you both made eye contact. The overwhelming emotions of nostalgia and regret was a feeling only you two could ever understand, and my, was it complicated to choose how to feel with thousands of nameless emotions competing with one another.

The love Minho had for you never left, almost as if it laid dormant for years as it hoped for the day you two would meet again, the familiar butterflies of his childhood crush blossoming once again at the sight of you. Somehow, everything and nothing about you changed, it was something Minho didn’t have words to explain or couldn’t quite wrap his mind around. You were the Y/N he knew and doted on as a child, but you had grown into an astonishingly beautiful adult version of yourself and he found himself falling in love the instant his soul recognized you.

For so many years, Minho had tried his best to erase any memory of you, but his heart couldn’t deny the love it had for you and no matter how hard he tried, it was always you. Through the trials and tribulations of life, you were his safe haven, the very thought of you bringing a sense of peace and tranquility no other could, and during the lowest points of his life, his body always instinctually took him to the same pond as a refuge. He coveted you and your presence, yet the pond was the closest he could get to you and the feelings he had longed for.

Just maybe Minho was being unfair to you, he thought. After all, you both were just kids.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Since your run in with Minho, you had been suffering with an overwhelming amount of guilt, carrying the weight of shame on your shoulders as you came face to face with him for the first time in years. Having to finally confront the pained and saddened expression he wore was something you could have never prepared for, and the very memory of it was enough to make you break down in tears.

You knew what you had done to Minho was extremely hurtful, and you couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, no matter how hard you try. But knowing and witnessing it were two completely different things, and after seeing Minho’s watery eyes, you weren’t sure if you could ever forgive yourself. He was right, though. Maybe you shouldn’t have come back, maybe coming back was only reopening old wounds you both didn’t need to be dealing with all because of your selfish need to reconnect with your culture.

Though, after spending most of your life overseas, you were starting to feel like you didn’t belong in your home country anymore. You had lost touch with cultural traditions, basic etiquette, and even struggled to speak your native tongue as well. You still spoke like the eight year old that had moved away long ago, and it was becoming increasingly embarrassing as you compared yourself to everyone around you. You stuck out like a sore thumb and for the first time in your life, you began to realize you didn’t fit in anywhere. Not here, not in the states. You were too much of your ethnicity to be considered a proper American, and you were too American to be considered a true citizen of your country, despite spending the first eight years of your life here. Coming back home didn’t reaffirm your identity, but only left you more confused and questioning who you even were.

Minho was right, this was a mistake.

You so desperately craved a sense of belonging, and you became certain you weren't finding it here anymore, but you had to make it through the rest of your trip at the very least. You were just going to try to continue business as usual though, hoping you would not run into Minho again and would simply forgo the pond entirely. It should be simple enough, you thought. No one needed to know about your accidental meeting with Minho and you were sure he’d avoid you like the plague. It should be fine.

Well, that quickly changed as soon as your mom told you Minho’s mother invited your family to dinner at their house. The color from your face immediately drained as a cold sweat formed all over your body, your mother seemingly ecstatic at the news, “Oh, it will be just like old times! And you can finally see Minho after so long, isn’t that great, sweetheart?” she beamed, your father also nodding alongside her.

You cleared your throat as you forced a fake smile, “Yeah, that does sound great, mom. When are we going over?”

“Tonight! So make sure to be ready to walk over by seven, okay?”

Tonight? Oh, god, no, that was far too soon when you had just barely recovered from seeing Minho yesterday, and now tonight? Breathe, Y/N. Just one night, then you’ll never see him again, you ressaured yourself, trying to find a way to make this news manageable. You honestly should have seen this coming, your mom was also best friends with Minho’s mom, but for some reason that detail had escaped you.

Just one evening, just one dinner, then it would be all over, right?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Dinner was going as well as it could have. Minho’s mother spent a great deal of effort preparing a feast for your family and she showered you with compliments as soon as you walked through the door, commenting how you had grown into such a lovely young adult.

Minho and you only exchanged an awkward hello, which didn’t raise any alarms in either of your parents as they somewhat expected this, especially considering how your friendship ended as children. Nonetheless, it did not stop the onslaught of questions each set of parents asked in attempts to catch up, nor did it stop them trying to force a conversation between you two.

“So, Y/N, how was university in the states? Did you like it there?” curiously inquired Minho’s father.

“Oh, it was great! Definitely got to meet some life long friends there and had lots of fun,” you politely responded, “I didn’t exactly live the typical all-american college experience, but it was still nice. Excited to start my new job once I get back though! I got a really good offer and the position I wanted.”

Minho’s mother gasped as she congratulated you, “That’s amazing! I remember your mother telling me how stressed you were about those interviews, but I’m glad you got it,” she then turned her head to Minho while giving him a slight nudge, “Minho also graduated, he got a job offer as well. Tell them about it, Minho.”

Minho awkwardly cleared his throat, “Uhm, yeah, I just got an offer with a bank here as an analyst, but I’m waiting to hear back from another company before negotiating.”

You nodded as he spoke, looking anywhere, but him as your parents also commended him, you weakly congratulating him as well. Wow, this felt painfully awkward, but somehow neither of your parents seemed to care too much about the tension between you two.

“How about a special someone, Y/N?” Minho’s dad asked, the question catching you by surprise. Your eyes landed on the boy who sat across from you, who looked just as surprised, but fully interested in your response.

“Ah, no, not right now… Kinda focused on myself for now,” you respond, a stiff smile on your face, feeling nervous under the sudden intensity of Minho’s gaze.

Your mother let out a chortle, finding your embarrassment endearing, “What about you, Minho? Any girlfriends?” she teased, wiggling her eyebrows as everyone else joined in laughing.

“Minho does have a girlfriend! It’s such a shame she couldn’t make it tonight, she was a lovely girl,” his mom piped, “Reminded me a bit of you, Y/N, if I’m being honest.”

You didn’t know why, but something inside you sank, an indescribable wave of disappointment washed over you at the words girlfriend. Of course he had one, he’s, well, an attractive, smart, man. Of course, but why were you so bothered by it? You haven’t spoken to him in years, you virtually had no relationship with him and only had remnants of the past to hold onto, yet your stomach began to twist and turn inside you, almost as if you were jealous? Ah, no, this is weird, this isn’t right. Maybe the food just isn’t sitting with you well, maybe you caught a stomach bug that just so happened to show its symptoms just in this moment.

The boy coughed, “We, uh… We broke up, that’s why she isn’t coming.”

Everyone stood in silence, not expecting that kind of news over dinner, both sets of parents shooting him an apologetic look, but for some reason, you felt relieved to hear that. The pit that was forming in your stomach suddenly vanished, as if Minho’s words just cured you of your ailment.

“What, you never told us!” Minho’s mother exclaimed.

“It was a few weeks ago, it happens. I’m fine, really.”

Maybe that explains the tired look in Minho’s eyes when you first saw him yesterday, maybe that explains the somber look he carried that day, and perhaps he went to the pond for a moment of peace, just as you did, except your very presence ruined it. There returned the familiar hand of guilt that rested its heavy hand on your shoulders, never giving you the chance to take a deep breath.

Beside that, dinner did move on relatively well as everyone took turns to catch up or reminisce on the olden days, all while gossiping about who was up to what. As dinner came to a close, both sets of parents decided it was best for you two to be left with washing the dishes alone in the house, as they moved to the patio area to chat amongst themselves.

Minho and you silently stood next to each other as he washed the dishes, handing them to you for them to dry with a rag, much as you two did while growing up. Although you two were much older, there was a comforting air that hung around you two that allowed you to relax the tension your body had been carrying over the dinner, humming a quiet tune as you dried each plate.

“You still hum while doing the dishes?” Minho asked, a small amused smile taking over his features.

You froze in place, not expecting him to willingly speak to you, much less take the time to ask you a question. “I guess I still do,” you replied lightly, afraid that the mere sound of your voice would somehow upset him.

A quiet lull returned after your response, neither of you knowing what to do or even say around another as guilt nibbled away at each of you, but for your own different reasons.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry”

You both turned to each other, eyes widened in surprise as you both rushed mumbled apologies to each other at the same exact time. Neither of you knew what to do in this unexpected situation, awkwardness filling both your eyes as you both struggled to stammer out a response.

“I… I’m sorry for never telling you I was leaving, I should’ve known bet-”

“No, no, we were both kids. Neither of us knew better. I’m sorry for being so… rude. I don’t know what got into me. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered anxiously, continuing to dry the glass cup in your hand, “It’s a lot to handle all at once. I don’t blame you one bit.”

“It really isn’t okay. We were both hurting in our own ways, I think we both did the best we could at the time,” he smiled reassuringly at you, the same one he had flashed you the first day he dragged you out to the forest to find the pond, a smile you had come to miss.

“Oh, and sorry about… your ex? Break ups suck…”

“It’s fine, I actually am glad we broke up… she was, well… it wasn’t great for either of us,” he mumbled, not willing to divulge any further, “Break ups suck? Sounds like you’ve had your fair share.”

You laugh lightly, “Unfortunately. Mine weren’t as peaceful as yours. You sound a lot happier than I was.”

“Well, you’ve always been a crybaby. Guess not much has changed about you, huh?” he mused, a teasing smirk forming on his face.

You rolled your eyes as you snorted, playfully nudging him with your hip, “Shut up. You’re still as annoying as I remember too.”

“I bet you missed it.”

“I did. A lot. Moving sucked.”

He handed you the last of the dishes to dry, deep in thought as he leaned his back against the kitchen counter, “Was it hard?”

You sighed as you put the last dish away, turning to him as you swallowed thickly, “I think I cried nearly every day for two years straight,” your gaze was stuck looking down at the floor as you fiddled with your fingers, “It was really hard. I didn’t have friends for a long time. No one understood me when I tried speaking English, and I didn’t understand the other kids a lot of the time, but I always knew they were laughing at me.”

Minho’s heart ached hearing how your voice slightly quivered as you recalled the memory, he could tell it was your first time ever saying any of it out loud. There was an icy sadness surrounding you as you spoke, yet no tears were to be found. Maybe you were good at hiding them, or maybe you had grown too tired to cry for your younger self at this point, but it didn’t take away from the scars the loneliness had left on your heart. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been there for you.”

You shook your head, an exasperated laugh left you as a resigned smile took over your face, “It’s okay, it was years ago. I’ve learned to deal with it. Besides, I did end up making friends and I ended up learning how to speak English.”

Minho was amazed at your ability to force a cheerful expression while discussing something so traumatic, something he would have never expected you to be able to do. He couldn’t help but wonder what you had endured all these years on your own, wondering where the sensitive and delicate version of you he had once knew had gone, feeling angry that you had been hurt so much that your tenderness was forced to become a callous exterior.

The child he had once known was so fragile, he had to wear gloves when handling your porcelain heart, nervous his very own touch or breath could crack it if he wasn’t careful. Minho hated seeing you cry. He would defend you, fighting tooth and nail, like his life depended on it if anyone ever upset you, even going as far as angrily huffing and puffing at your parents if they ever raised their voice at you. And every time, he would comfort you right after in a gentle embrace until you calmed down, making sure to glare at anyone who tried to disturb your peace. How much did your little heart break over the years? Who was there to pick up the pieces and comfort you through those moments? Had you really dealt with it all by yourself? The thought alone made Minho’s heart writhe in despair, aching as he mourned this realization.

You reached out to grab Minho’s arm as you saw the downcast expression on his face, “Hey, it’s not your fault. I learned how to defend myself and I think I turned out pretty okay at the end of it,” you reassured before laughing, “Unless you think I’m lame now.”

Your laugh was enough to bring Minho out his incessant thoughts, a mischievous grin returning, “I never thought you were cool in the first place.”

“Minho!”

“Kidding, kidding. I’m just glad to have you back. I missed you lots.”

“I missed you too.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Over the past few days, you and Minho had become inseparable, spending nearly every minute of the day with one another, much like how you two did when you were children. For the first time in years, you finally felt that you belonged somewhere, no longer feeling out of place like you have since the day you moved away. It didn’t matter where you were, but as long as Minho was there, you felt like you were at home. He knew this too, he noticed the change from the first day he found you at the pond again to now. You were much more relaxed, as if all the worries in the world disappeared while you both were together, giggling over whatever stupid joke was made. You weren’t on edge as you were before, and the walls you had surrounded your heart with slowly crumbled away through his affections.

And even though over a decade has since passed since you two last spoke, it was as if time had paused since the moment you left, and only resumed from the day you both made up. Nothing has changed, except everything about the two of you changed. Your childhood friendship continued like it was nothing, playing like a song that had been paused, waiting to sing its tune, except you two were much older, more matured, and had experienced so much of life. Whatever you each went through shaped you into the adults you were today, yet the kids you each knew hid behind locked doors that only the two of you had accessed.

Yet, there was a more complicated matter that you had to address before it snowballed out of control. Your feelings. Love was never a word you and Minho shied away from, as you often told each other ‘I love you’ while growing up, it seemed natural during that time of childlike innocence. You knew you loved Minho, and you knew he loved you, but saying it as adults had an entirely implication and your feelings were indicating something much deeper than platonic love.

It was no secret that your childhood best friend had grown into a rather handsome man, and the childhood crush you once had on him was flourishing into something greater than just a crush. The smallest of gestures would send a frenzy of butterflies and warmth rushing throughout your veins, hoping to god Minho had not noticed just how much of an effect he was having on you.

If you two were walking through a crowded area, he’d grab your hand without hesitation as he led you through the swarms of people. If you had food stuck on the corner of your lips, he’d grab a napkin and wipe it off. If you saw a small trinket at the shopping mall you wanted, the very next day he’d come back with the item in hand, saying he bought it so you could remember to text or call him when you went back to the states. It was moments like those that felt so incredibly intimate to you, but part of you wasn’t sure if it could all be explained away by how comfortable you two were with one another.

And here you were again, sitting on the couch of Minho’s living room after he had begged you to watch a new scary movie with him, insisting this was to make up for the pre-teen years you both missed out on and that he would’ve forced you to watch one then. You tried to protest, saying that you guys weren’t kids anymore and there was no need for these ‘tests of bravery,’ yet you couldn’t resist the way he would pout and whine, begging you to do so for him just like he would as a child.

You were barely watching the movie, just peeking out from behind a blanket as Minho’s secure arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head laying on his chest as you cowered in fear over the pure suspense of the movie. Each time you’d flinch, you could feel a soft rumble come from Minho’s chest, doing his best to stifle a laugh and hide the fact that he was enjoying every moment of this.

“I fucking hate you,” you scowled, still recovering from the last jumpscare.

Minho giggled at your face, finding your attempt to look upset absolutely adorable, “No, you don’t,” reaching his other arm over you as he squeezed you into an affectionate embrace, “It’s not my fault you’re still a giant baby after all these years.”

You grumbled while doing your best to shove Minho off you, but there was no way you’d be able to overpower him. You’ve hugged Minho so many times throughout your life, but this time, it sent your heart racing so loud that you could hear it drumming in your own ears, silently praying that he couldn’t hear it too. Something about this hug felt different, especially when he kept you close in his arms, refusing to let you go as he snuggled into you. This trip was going to be the death of you.

Without fail, every time you jolted in your seat, Minho was quick to chuckle at each of your reactions and tighten his grip on you gently, not skipping a beat to plant a chaste kiss on your forehead while whispering to you that it was just a movie. If you were two kids, this would be something normal and innocent, but right now, it left you feeling like a flustered mess who was melting under the heat of his affection.

You were slowly feeling yourself short-circuit, your body starting to sweat from the heat of embarrassment that was washing over you. Surely, Minho would feel the amount of warmth emanating from you at this point, yet he seemed completely unbothered as his eyes were trained on the movie ahead of you. You were relieved that he seemed aloof to the distress you were experiencing, but also mildly insecure that he seemed so… relaxed despite the proximity you two shared. Maybe he had only seen this under the same childhood innocence and nothing more, maybe it was only you making a big fuss over this.

It was becoming too much for you to bear as you started to shift uncomfortably, slowly getting up while excusing yourself to the bathroom. Minho’s eyebrows furrowed with concern, “Are you okay?”

You nodded your head hastily as you made your way to the bathroom, “Uhm, yeah! Just not feeling well suddenly, not sure why. Just gonna splash some water on my face.”

He didn’t seem too convinced, he could sense there was something more to it, but decided to let it go. You raced to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you to finally catch a breath, shaking your hands as if you were trying to remove all the nervous energy out of you. Your face was hot to the touch, thankful for the cold water from the faucet as you splashed it onto your warm cheeks. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but it was long enough for Minho to come knocking at the door, “Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You swung the door instantly, startling Minho as he backed up from the door, his eyebrows raised at your change in behavior, “What’s wrong? Don’t lie to me, I can tell something’s up.”

Minho’s eyes narrowed as he looked into yours, trying to search your eyes for an answer as you bit the inside of your cheek, your eyes entirely avoiding him, “It’s nothing, I’ll be fine-”

“Y/N.”

“I promise, I’m probably just overreacting, Minho. I’ll be fine.”

He stared down at you with his arms crossed, pursuing his lips as he watched the corners of your lips twitch, a telltale sign that you were lying, “Am I making you uncomfortable? Was the movie too much for you? You know you can tell me anything.”

You shook your head panickedly, “No, no, it’s nothing like that, I swear! Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N.”

You gulped, you knew there was no way out of this. Minho knew you better than anyone else, he knew you weren’t randomly feeling ill over nothing, he knew it had nothing to do with the movie.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Minho. It’s okay.”

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about it, but can you at least tell me if it has anything to do with me?”

The stubbornness you found charming as a child was definitely an absolute pain in the ass as the adult man in front of you analyzed every microscopic detail you, trying his best to get to the bottom of what had you acting strangely. You couldn’t lie to him, no, he would know as soon as you opened your mouth it was a lie. Sure, you could tell him he was the cause of your unsettledness, but would that even go well? There were too many factors to consider, too much to think about and your long pause told Minho everything he needed to know.

He sighed, taking a step back as he started to make his way back to the living room, “It’s fine, I can tell. If this is too much, we can stop here. We can talk about it tomorrow morning.”

“N-no!”

The words flew out your mouth before you had the chance to even think. Oh, you were mentally cursing at yourself as Minho turned to you again, his face furrowed with confusion, “No?”

“I just… I mean, it’s just a lot, but it isn’t at the same time?” you sounded so unsure as you said it, which only caused Minho to tilt his head to the side as he tried to understand you.

“It’s too much, but it isn’t…” he mumbled to himself, his mind straining to figure out the riddles you were speaking, “I know I said we don’t have to talk about it, but you do realize you’re not making any sense, right?”

You forced a tight-lipped smile, inhaling sharply, “Uhm, yeah… It doesn’t make sense to me either.”

“You’re lying. You know exactly what you mean, you just don’t want to tell me.”

You winced at his bluntness, not really surprised at how direct he was being with you, “Do you not trust me anymore?”

His eyes glossed over with insecurity and worry as he asked that question, your heart dropping immediately, wanting nothing more than shoo those feelings away, “What? Of course I still trust you.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s complicated?”

“But why?”

“Why can’t you just drop it?” you raised your voice in frustration at his insistence, not willing to budge as he tried to pry his way into your mind.

“Well,” he hesitated, “The last time you hid something from me, you left. So forgive me for being a little scared.”

Your mouth dropped open at Minho’s statement, not expecting him to be so vulnerable with you out of nowhere, “I… Minho, I’m sorry,” you whispered tearfully, your stomach flipping onto itself as it digested the grief Minho had just voiced. You stepped towards him, reaching for his hands as you clasped them between yours, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I don’t really know if I should be saying this.”

“Trust me this time, please? I don’t want to be left in the dark again,” he pleaded, his mind reminding him of the day he waited for you as the amber sunset turned into the night sky.

Your hands started to tremble in his, your nerves taking over as you unexpectedly found yourself about to confess your feelings to a man who lived thousands miles from you, a man you had only started talking to a few days ago, a man who had somehow known you your entire life, despite missing so many crucial years together. Your breath hitched as the butterflies in your stomach got caught in your throat, your nerves signaling off as the electrifying feeling of adrenaline took over, “I, uh… I am really happy we’ve made up, I’m really happy to have rekindled our friendship with one another, and I’ve loved all the time we have spent with each other over the last few days, but…”

Trepidation ran through you, biting your lip for a brief moment as you hesitated to continue your sentence, “Maybe I’ve come to love it a little too much?” At this point, you were looking for every way possible to avoid saying your actual feelings, hoping Minho would connect the dots for you, but his face told you he had no idea what you meant. “Okay, you don’t have to tell me I’m still not making sense, I can see it in your face,” you sighed. He nodded, urging you to continue with patient eyes.

“I… like you?”

It was quiet, so quiet you swore both Minho and you could hear your heart thumping, your hands clamming up as you held his, terrified eyes examining his face for his reactions. He stilled for a moment, as if he was processing your words before breaking out into a grin, a hearty laugh escaping him.

“I already knew that.”

You froze in place, disbelief painting your face as you stared at him incredulously, “What?”

“Don’t tell me you’re also still clueless after all these years,” yet he took your silence as confirmation, shaking his head as he giggled, “Do you really think I was being overly affectionate with you for no reason?”

Your mouth dried up from nerves, stuttering over your reply, “I… Yes? I thought you were just… I don’t know, I thought you were just treating me the same way you did as when we were kids.”

“And do you know why I treated you like that growing up?” he questioned with a candied smile.

You blinked slowly, your head shaking cautiously as you tried to decipher his words, “Because… I don’t know? We were best friends.”

“Sure, that was part of it, but it was more like me having a giant crush on you.”

“...”

“... That means I still like you, if that wasn’t clear enough for you.”

There was no way this was real, this all had to be a dream, you just couldn’t believe your ears. Your childhood crush, the man that caused our feelings to go absolutely haywired in a matter of a few days, felt the same exact way for you this whole time and you just somehow missed it? No, no, this was certainly a dream, why on earth would he be into someone like you, someone who-

“Y/N,” he removed his hands from yours, resting them on top of your shoulders as he leaned down to come face to face with you, effectively waking you up from your reverie, “Let’s make up for lost time,” he whispered, his breath fanning on your lips, “Can I kiss you?”

You stared back with doe eyes, all your vocabulary escaping you as you gulped, nodding your head perhaps a little too excitedly. Minho’s smile only widened at your reaction, his rough hands traveling to cup your face with half-lidded eyes, his head leaning forward as his chapped lips closed the gap. His lips melded against yours, your hands grasping at his t-shirt as you felt your knees buckle under him, clinging onto him as if your life depended on it. You felt yourself weaken under his touch, becoming prisoner to his affection as the world around you quieted, much like the moment of silence that existed between the end of a performance and explosive applause of the audience. Everything stalled, as if the expanse of the universe took a pause and the supernovas’ violent bursts slowed to witness feverish kiss between you two. You were becoming lightheaded, pulling away from the dizzying kiss as your chests heaved in an attempt to catch your breath. Minho’s cheeks and ears burned a bright scarlet, a sweet smile grazing his features as his eyes brimmed with love and affection, softly whispering:

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Once again, the familiar, low, hum of mosquitos filled your ears as Minho’s firm hand led you down the same dirt trail you’ve traveled down hundreds of times, leaves brushing against the skin of your arms as you cautiously followed his grasp. Today, Minho told you he had one last surprise for you before you traveled back home, blindfolding you at the entrance of the forest as butterflies fluttered in your stomach, temporarily distracting you from the fact that this was your last day here before returning to the states, returning to your mundane life and leaving this mind numbing summer romance behind.

He slowed down his pace, signaling to you that you had arrived to your destination, his hands slipping out of yours as you felt his presence behind you, gently removing the blindfold as he softly whispered, “we’re here.”

As soon as the blindfold was off, your eyes blinked rapidly as they adjusted to the change of lighting, scanning the scene that stood ahead of them as Minho made his way into your vision, a saccharine smile beaming at you, “Do you like it?”

Like was an understatement as a grin broke out onto your face, your heart filling with an overwhelming amount of adoration as you took in the surprise Minho spent so long preparing for earlier this morning. There, beside the pond, laid a small plaid blanket with a picnic basket centered atop of it, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a bottle of wine propped up against the basket. You gasped with delight as your heart softened, “Oh, Minho, I love it.”

His shoulders relaxed at your words, no longer feeling nervous as he grabbed your hand and guided you to the blanket, sitting down next to you as he gingerly laid out the food he prepared in front you. “I made you some of your favorites,” he added, gently opening the bottle of wine and pouring you a glass, “I hope its as good as it looks,” he laughed anxiously, handling you a small bento box with the a serving cutely prepared, the vegetables cut out into small hearts decorating the rice. You took a bite of the food as soon as you had the chance, a small moan escaping you due to how delicious it was, your eyes widening in surprise, not expecting it to be so flavorful, “Minho, this is so good, you made this?”

He proudly nodded, pride bubbling up within him as you complimented the meal he made for you, one where he spent an agonizing amount of time to make because it just had to be perfect for you, especially today of all days, a day he wanted to send you off with the happiest memories.

You both continued to enjoy the date Minho had put so much effort in, occasionally teasing one another or chuckling at whatever lame joke the other made, both of you trying to avoid the looming topic at hand, the inevitable ending of this summer love story that was doomed to last for only a few weeks.

“So…” Minho anxiously drawled, “You’re leaving tomorrow…”

You smiled weakly as you cleared your throat, “That I am.”

He pursed his lips, struggling to ask the question you both knew you needed to address, “So… what does it mean for us?”

A heavy sigh escaped you as the tension in the air thickened, both of you intently staring at one another, trying to decode what the other was thinking before speaking, “What do you want it to mean?”

“I asked you first,” he responded a little too fast for your liking, not willing to voice his thoughts without hearing yours first.

“Well, uhm…” you paused, debating with your mind and heart as you decided your next words, “I am going back to the states, back to my friends, back to my job, back to my life.”

“Right,” he mumbled with a crestfallen expression, “Your life is there, not here.”

“It is.”

“What about me?” he whispered in a quivered voice.

“Well, your life is here, my life is not here. I don’t really…” you took a deep breath, tears starting to prick your eyes, “I don’t know how we would work.”

He nodded tearfully, knowing he couldn’t deny the difficulty of managing a long distance relationship, especially one like this, “What if I moved with you? What if you moved back?”

You shook your head, your heart breaking at Minho’s attempts to find a solution, “Minho, you don’t even speak English, you wouldn’t be able to find a job there and use your degree-”

“I can learn! I promise, I’ll start studying-”

“Minho.”

He stopped mid-sentence, his stubbornness refusing to let him accept the reality you two had found yourselves in, “Minho, you already have a job offer here, your friends and family are here. You wouldn’t be happy in the states, it’s so hard living there as a foreigner.”

“I’d be happy anywhere as long as I’m with you,” he begged, praying you’d at least try to see the glimmer of hope he was trying to conjure up, “I don’t care where, as long as I’m with you, I’d be happy.”

You bit your lip as you tried to suppress a sob, “You know that’s not true, you know your happiness can’t be dependent on me alone.”

“You don’t want to come back here?”

“I… can’t, Minho. My life isn’t here anymore, it hasn’t been in years.”

Crystal tears fell from Minho’s eyes, his eyes no longer being able to meet yours as the your words crushed his soul, the love he felt for you expelling into his tears as he began to mourn your loss once more, sobbing much like he did all those years ago. Through hiccups, he blubbered “Please, Y/N. Please don’t leave me again.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you sniffled, no longer being able to watch the man you love completely fall apart in front of you, cursing yourself for your cruel words that stabbed over and over again in his bleeding heart. “I’m so sorry, Minho. I don’t want this either, but what choice do we have? You and I both know our lives would never cross paths, we would never be able to come together.”

“We can try-”

“For what? To only cry years later to have this same exact conversation again?” you snapped, your frustrated tears and guilty conscience no longer being able to handle his pleading, it only wounding you more. You’ve already spent the past few weeks trying to scour for a possibility, a fragment of hope that showed you a timeline in which you two would be happy together, but it simply didn’t exist in this life, no matter how many times you flipped and turned the story. This wasn’t a movie, this wasn’t some romance novel where love would triumph it all, this was the bitter and harsh realities of life, and you hated it with all your heart.

You let out a despondent sigh as you lamented over the situation, your hands gingerly reaching out for Minho’s chin, forcing his teary-eyed face to look at yours, “Minho, I’m sorry, baby.”

He sniffled, his nose reddening as hot drops cascaded down his cheeks, “I’m sorry too.”

“I love you with everything in me, Minho, and I always will no matter where life takes us,” you murmured heartbrokenly, “I have known you for thousands of lifetimes, and I don’t regret meeting you in a single one.”

His hands reached out to hold yours, removing them from his face as he grasped them tightly, as if he was fearing you’d fade away if he loosened his grip, “I just wish we worked in this one,” he trembled.

“Me too, but…” you heaved, “Maybe in the next one, right? You’ll find me again?”

He laughed melancholily, “Always. I’d chase you to the very end of the universe if I had to.”

“Kiss me one more time? So I don’t forget?”

He smiled with anguished eyes, not hesitating to tilt his head as his lips captured yours once more, in one last, passionate kiss with all the devotion in the world, leaving the taste of your bittersweet love, one where only the two of you would know and understand.

You were leaving him again, but at least he got to say goodbye this time.

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